Trinity: Bride of West Virginia (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 35) by Carré White Page A

likes to eat, and I can add my own thoughts on the matter. Then we’ll work our way down the list.”
    “That’s very sensible, Mrs. Witherspoon.”
    “Thank you.”
     
    ***
     
    On Mrs. Dexter’s advice, I rose early the next day, dressing and preparing myself to face whatever might be in store for me. She warned portentously about morning callers, and no sooner had I finished breakfast when the first of several carriages arrived at the house. I sat in the parlor with the doctor’s wife, Mrs. Eleanor Watson, who held a small white dog in her lap.
    “We feared he would never remarry. The news came as quite a shock. I don’t recall seeing the engagement announced in the papers.”
    “It was announced in Boston,” I lied, not knowing if I should tell her about being a mail order bride. “We didn’t think to put it in here. It’s an oversight.”
    “Well, no matter. We’re all thrilled he took the plunge again. He was so heartbroken over Jacqueline’s death. Her illness came on so suddenly. My husband did everything he could to save her, but it was to no avail.”
    “I don’t know any of the particulars.” I took a sip of tea. “But from what I can tell, she had lovely taste in furnishings and … things.” I felt out of my depth, not having grown up with money. I was ignorant about this lifestyle. I hardly knew how rich people acted, copying their mannerisms and letting them begin the conversations.
    The following day, a neighbor, Mrs. Hanover, arrived, bringing with her a small child. She appeared to be closer to my age, her smile affable.
    “Hello. I thought I’d come over and introduce myself. We met at the party the other night, but I doubt you’ll remember.”
    I escorted her to the parlor, saying, “I’m drawing a blank. I’m sorry.”
    She sat on the sofa with the little girl, the child appearing to be less than five years of age. “Do you like hot chocolate?” She nodded. “Mrs. Dexter can make some for you.”
    “Thank you very much,” the girl said in a sweet little voice.
    “You’re very pretty. I love your hair.” Someone had curled it around her face in tight ringlets. “The lace on your dress is lovely.”
    “Mama bought it for me.”
    “This is my daughter, Marisa. My older children are in school.”
    “I see.”
    Mrs. Dexter arrived with a tray. “I can take the little one in the kitchen, if you like. She can have a bite to eat there. I’ve a child’s bib somewhere. We won’t ruin that pretty dress.”
    “Can I have hot chocolate?”
    “Well, of course you can.” Mrs. Dexter held out her hand. “Come with me.”
    Mrs. Hanover smiled politely. “I’m Elise.”
    “Trinity.”
    “We were stunned to hear Mr. Witherspoon remarried.”
    “He wanted to keep things private, I suppose.”
    She leaned in marginally. “The age difference … it’s … significant.”
    “Yes.”
    “What did you do in Massachusetts?”
    I wasn’t certain I could trust Elise with the details, eyeing her closely. “I was … a working woman.”
    “Oh, you were?”
    “I lived with other women in Lawrence.”
    “What sort of work?”
    “Sewing.” I would omit the part about working in a factory. Let her assume I had been a seamstress. It was close enough to the truth.
    “I see.” She frowned slightly. “Then how did you meet Mr. Witherspoon?”
    “Through a mutual friend. She thought we would be a good match.”
    “Oh.” An intelligent light flashed in her eye. “And you didn’t meet in person until you arrived in Clarksburg?”
    “Not really.”
    “I don’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s all right. I’m sure people are curious.”
    “I thought you were married to Mr. Nathanial Witherspoon.”
    “What?”
    “At the party. I didn’t realize it was the elder who was your husband. I saw you dancing with Nathanial. He’s not lived here for a good while. He left to go to school. Now he’s a solicitor in Boston.”
    “He danced with me because his father was