But what if instead of emerging, Torin chooses to hunker in the rubble?
19
The Bellaire-Norton or Norton-Bellaire mansion, depending on who you were talking to, was as magnificent as Cora had described—not in New York magnificence, but in a small Western town magnificence. Ivy liked how Andre Bellaire incorporated the rough-cut, pinkish-brown stone she’d seen on other local buildings into his three-story home.
A cone-topped tower on the left and a copper-trimmed pergola in the middle lent distinction to the façade. Gardens edged by low walls of the same stone as the house showed plenty of new plantings.
One side of the carved double doors was flung open. Lifting up her skirts, Cora came rushing out, reaching the surrey before Ivy could even step down. “You’re here! I’ve been so worried—on pins and needles ever since I read Brian’s note and your letter. Are you all right? What happened?”
Suddenly, too drained to respond to her friend’s barrage of words, Ivy merely repeated what she’d said to Brian earlier. “I’ll be all right. Let me tell everyone at once.”
Brian came over and reached around his betrothed, extending a hand to help Ivy down.
“Thank you, dearest.” Cora went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “You’re our hero.”
“At least I didn’t get shot this time,” he said in a wry tone. “The idea might have crossed Torin’s mind.”
Cora slanted him a flirtatious look. “Then I’d nurse you back to health.” She took Ivy’s hand and tugged. “Come on.” She towed her up the path.
A tall Negro man, his hair wooly-white, stood in the doorway, a broad smile creasing his face.
“Rufus.” Cora flung a hand in introduction. “Remember, I wrote you? Some of Uncle Andre’s people came with him. They’re part of the family.”
Rufus gave them a little bow. “If you need anything, Miss Jackson, be sure to let me know.”
Brian came up behind them, carrying Ivy’s satchel.
Rufus held out a hand to take it. “I’ll have Sam bring up whatever else Miss Jackson has brought. Should I have him return the surrey to the livery or see to the horse?”
“Appreciate that.” Brian sketched the man a little salute. “Return, please. I don’t know how long I’ll be. The charge is already paid.”
Rufus stepped back to allow them to enter.
They walked into a large entryway patterned in leaf wallpaper above the chair rail and dominated by a sweeping staircase carpeted in green with a goldflor-de-lispattern.Oh, dear, my new dress will match the décor, Ivy thought with her first hint of amusement since her disagreement with Torin.
Perched on the railing at the bottom of the stairs, a statue of a woman in a Grecian robe, held a flame aloft. The sun shining through gothic-shaped, stained-glass windows above the stairs cast light through their flowered panels.
Mr. Bellaire and Cora’s Aunt Rose hurried through the large square opening to a room on the right.
Mr. Bellaire reached her first. “Ivy, my dear girl.” He took her hand. “Although you’ve grown up into a pretty lady, so perhaps, I should address you as Miss Jackson.”
“Ivy, please.” She hadn’t seen the man for four or so years, when he’d visited Cora’s grandfather while Ivy was there. He looked thinner, his once auburn hair almost completely gray. Lines bracketed his eyes and mouth. But his hazel eyes were just as warm, and his greeting showed he hadn’t lost an ounce of his Southern charm.
A smiling Rose nudged her new husband out of the way. Behind her spectacles, her gray eyes shone.
Cora’s great-aunt had also changed in the eight months since Ivy had last seen her. She’d always been sharply intelligent and erudite. But she’d dressed simply in muted colors and styled her brown hair plainly.
Today, she wore an elegant blue-gray silk, which made her eyes look bluer. Her brown hair, with only a few threads of white, waved in a loose updo. Gray pearl studs and a matching necklace graced her ears and neck. If anything, she appeared younger, lighter, and certainly, from Cora’s information, happier.
“Let me look at you.” Rose placed her hands on the sides of Ivy’s shoulders and studied her face. “You have shadows in your eyes. But you’re here now, and we’ll do our best to make everything, if not all right, then better.”
Ivy doubted everything would ever be all right. But she forced a smile and nod. “I’m so glad to see you, Miss Collier.” She caught herself. “I mean, Mrs. Bellaire.”
“Aunt Rose,” the woman corrected, lowering her hands and letting go of Ivy’s.
Mr. Bellaire touched her elbow. “And I’mUncleAndre to you, Ivy. We’re enfolding you into the family.”
His genuine tone as well as the welcoming words touched Ivy. “UncleAndre.AuntRose.” She fluttered a hand to touch her chest. “It’s good to see you both. Congratulations on your marriage. Another one of Cora’s schemes comes to fruition.” They all laughed.
