tomorrow?” Violet asked.
“Guy Chapman’s funeral service and burial.”
“The ground’s not too frozen?” Tessa asked.
“Henry and his helpers were able to open the plot yesterday,” he replied.
Violet’s mood plummeted.
She finished her tea and folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t want to know gruesome details of the burial.
As though he sensed her discomfort, Ben Charles changed the subject, asking her if she cared for dessert. She was full, as was Tessa, so he paid the bill and they headed for the house.
“I hope snow holds off a day longer,” he said as they sat huddled in a row on the seat of the buggy.
The heavy gray sky issued a warning.
“Is Mr. Chapman’s family traveling?” Tessa asked.
“Only a son from Iowa, and he’s already here,” Ben Charles replied. “The rest of his family is close by.”
The ride home went smoothly, since Ben Charles had already cleared the road for the horses on their way to church.
“I’ll be reading,” Tessa said once he assisted them down from the carriage.
He led the horses and buggy to the carriage house.
After hanging her coat and changing out of her good dress, Violet decided to look around the rest of the house. So far she’d only familiarized herself with the kitchen and dining room and the pantries. A formal sitting room at the front of the house was filled with ornate furniture, framed paintings, potted ferns and bric-a-brac. Violet assumed it had been decorated by Ben Charles’s mother many years ago. After checking the dirt in which the ferns grew, she got a pitcher and made several trips, watering the thirsty plants.
Across the hall and farther down the hallway she discovered a massive pocket door. Initially she’d assumed this side of the house backed the funeral parlor, but since it didn’t she rolled back the door and instead discovered another well-appointed room. This one held more comfortable sofas and chairs, paintings of floral arrangements, several colorful lithographs, a pianoforte and a massive stone fireplace.
On either side of the huge windows at the front were large open shelves displaying vases and busts and wood carvings of horses.
Violet liked the muted wallpaper, the geometric-patterned carpets and the glass bowls of shells and small stones. She’d never seen so many different types of shells and she studied several of them.
Seating herself on a comfortable sofa, she enjoyed the immense space and the care and detail that had gone into every object. The other was a formal room, perhaps for receiving guests, but this one felt welcoming and comfortable. Basking in the tranquility, she breathed deeply and closed her eyes. It had been a long time since she’d had a moment’s peace like this.
Nearly half an hour had passed when footsteps alerted her to Ben Charles approaching from the hallway. He entered the room and spotted her. “You must be chilly. I’ll add a log to the fire.”
“Now that you mention it, I guess it’s a little cool in here. I was enjoying the room so much I really didn’t notice.”
He opened a hinged box near the stone fireplace and took out a good-size log, which he added to the fire. After he used the poker to arrange it, and added a few sticks, the flames licked around the log, sending their warmth into the room.
“Better?”
“Much. Thank you. I hope it’s all right that I came in here.”
“This is your home, Violet. That’s why I told you to make yourself comfortable.”
“No one could be anything but comfortable in this room. Did your mother decorate it?”
He glanced at the wall surrounding the fireplace. “No. Actually about five years ago I refurnished this room to be less formal and more peaceful.”
“Well, you achieved that nicely. I admit I haven’t been in another home as nice as yours, but I can’t imagine anywhere more like a place of refuge.”
“That’s kind of you to say. Thank you.” He brushed his palms together. “I didn’t come to disturb you. I wanted to check on the fireplaces and see what was needed this afternoon.”
“You’re not disturbing me. If this is where you spend your Sunday afternoons, please don’t let me displace you.”
“I don’t want you to feel as though you have no privacy.”
“When I need privacy I’ll go to my room. Which is another joy to occupy, I mean to assure you.”
“If you’d like to make changes, feel free to do so. Is there anything you’d like to add or remove?”
“Perhaps a few shelves for my own books, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. Just show me what you’d like to see.”
She sat forward. “I saved a photograph from a magazine. It shows shelves above the windows. If you think the idea is acceptable, I could pay for it myself.”
He shook his head. “Show me the clipping and I’ll see to it.”
“I’ll go get it right now.” Halfway to the door, she paused. “If that’s all right.”
He waved her on. When she returned he was seated on one of the sofas, a large book open beside him. He took the picture from her. After a few minutes of discussion he asked her if he could keep the magazine page to show the carpenter. “He’s the same fellow who did this room. He’ll do a good job for us.”
“I have a few framed pictures I’d like to hang in my room if that’s all right with you.”
“Perfectly all right.”
Tessa joined them, carrying a tray loaded with a teapot and three cups. “Time for refreshment, don’t you agree?”
She set the tray on a nearby table and served them.
Ben Charles watched Violet’s demeanor change, and recognized she was uncomfortable with the role reversal. “We don’t want to push ourselves on you, Violet,” he said in a gentle tone.
Her dark gaze moved to his, and he read her uncertainty.
“Perhaps if you think of Sunday as a family day, and remember we want you as part of our family, you’ll be more comfortable.”
A flicker of pain crossed her features, but she quickly hid it. “I’ll try.”
Chapter Five
The afternoon sun streaming through the front windows enhanced the color of Violet’s eyes, which always appeared so dark. In this light they were a rich deep mahogany, flecked with gold and green. The last thing Ben Charles wanted to do was impose on her and scare her off. Apparently she had no one else, and everyone needed a family. His might be small, but he and Tessa had a lot to offer.
“We have a new player to draw into our games?” his sister said as she settled beside Violet. The last word had ended on a higher note, indicating her question.
“I was hoping to make a good impression this first weekend,” he replied with good humor. “Not send her packing.”
“What games are you referring to?” Violet asked.
Tessa got up and took one of the game boards from the wall.
“I thought those were colorful lithographs,” Violet said with surprise.
“They’re game boards,” Tessa replied. “This one is my favorite.”
The game she referred to was ’Round the World with Nellie Bly. Tessa had loved to play this one since she was a child. “She’s