Biltmore Christmas Page 8

  “None at all.” He flashed his charming grin as he eased down from the horse. He guided her foot into the stirrup, gave her a few instructions, and up she went, sitting sidesaddle. He climbed up and seated himself behind her.

  She felt his closeness and smelled the fragrant soap on his skin. Her stomach seemed to flip as he reached around her to take the reins. She hoped this would be a quick ride and that the wind would erase the heat she felt rising to her face.

  Suddenly they were there, and Jacob was easing her off before dismounting.

  “Thank you for the ride. It was a bit uncomfortable but saved me a great deal of time. And aching feet.”

  Jacob laughed. “You would get used to it. How long will you be visiting? I have some things I can do in the village, so I can return for you afterward.”

  “Oh no, that won’t be necessary. I can walk back.” She couldn’t imagine sitting that close to him again. It just wasn’t proper.

  “Nonsense. I can see those boots would blister your feet. Let me come for you. Say, two hours?”

  Her lips hesitantly lifted into a shy smile. “I suppose that would be okay. You don’t think I could get in trouble, do you?”

  “Of course not. I am a guest, and you are on an afternoon off.” He grinned. “Aren’t you? You didn’t sneak off from a day’s work, did you?”

  “Oh no, of course not,” she responded seriously before realizing he was teasing. She laughed before thanking him again and turning to go inside.

  The visit with Melissa warmed Selma’s heart, and all thoughts of the ride back disappeared until he returned. She became anxious thinking of sitting adjacent to him.

  Her sister walked with her to greet him. “Hello, I am Melissa, Selma’s sister. Thank you for giving her a ride.”

  “You are welcome, and I must say you are as pretty as your sister.”

  Selma saw the deep blush on Melissa’s face and smiled. She knew the feeling.

  Melissa managed, “Thank you, sir.”

  Selma couldn’t believe the next remark from the dashing Jacob Sinclair. “Maybe you would like me to come and take you to visit Selma one day.”

  Melissa looked delighted. “Oh sir, that would be wonderful.” She looked at Selma. “Wouldn’t it?”

  “I don’t know if we can receive visitors. I’ll see.” Selma hugged her sister. “I need to go. I’ll be back when I can. I’ll try before Christmas.”

  Jacob helped Selma onto the horse before mounting. Both waved as they turned in the direction of the estate.

  Minutes after they left, Jacob turned off the road onto a dirt path.

  Selma shouted, “Hey!”

  “This will only take a few minutes.” He stopped at the French Broad River. After sliding from the saddle, he helped her down and led her to a small gray stone bridge. “Please sit a spell. Let’s talk a bit.”

  “Really, I need to return. I didn’t eat lunch, so I must be back for dinner.”

  “You will, I promise. I just want to talk to you.”

  “Concerning what?”

  “You. Did you grow up at the orphanage?”

  Selma gazed at the river. It appeared white and moved so fast it looked as if it were churning soap. “Yes, I did. Me and my three sisters.”

  “Was it hard?”

  “Not really. It’s all I knew, so how could I say for sure? We worked hard, did chores, and went to school. We can all read and write. We know history, and, believe it or not, we were taught some social graces.”

  “Why would I not believe you?”

  She looked at his handsome face, his dark eyes glowingwith warmth. “I happened to glance out a window this morning. You were with a very attractive lady. You may not think I possess the grace she portrays.”

  “Oh but I do. And you are twice as pretty.” He smiled.

  “Are you patronizing me, sir?”

  “No, Selma, I am not. I find you more beautiful and charming than most. It doesn’t matter to me that you are from the orphanage, nor that you do not wear the latest fashions or try to flatter me with feminine wiles. I like your unpretentious approach to life.”

  Selma felt overwhelmed. She wanted to return to the estate, where she knew her position and where she was comfortable. “Please, sir, may we go?”

  “Do I put you at unease?”

  “Yes, I am afraid you do.”

  “I am sorry. I have no intention of doing that. We will go.” He stood and took her hand to help her up. He pushed her long hair back and grinned broadly. “Next time we’ll need to tie your hair to keep it from blinding me.”

  Selma blushed. “That would probably be a good idea.”

  His fingers lingered another second as he tucked a loose strand back in place. “But I would miss the sweet smell of it tickling my face.”

  As she was about to climb on, she paused and fixed her eyes on his handsome face. “Thank you for the ride. And thank you for being kind to me and my sister.”

  “You are most welcome, Selma. I have enjoyed your company today. I hope we encounter each other again soon.”

  She smiled. “Maybe we will pass in the hall.”

  Chapter 3

  Selma ran her hand over the smooth ebony table. She lifted a small cup from the rose and white tea set, circling the rim with her finger. Carefully setting it down, she glanced at all the treasures in the room. Usually she was so busy cleaning and preparing the bedrooms that she didn’t take the time to admire the furnishings or accessories. How could it be possible for someone to have so much wealth as to build this massive home and acquire all these belongings?

  Selma had developed an interest in art and knew a little about paintings from books in the village library, so she knew the paintings by Renoir hanging throughout the house were very expensive. He was just one of the artists whose works were displayed.

  “Are you in a trance, Miss Bradford?” Maggie’s tone pierced Selma’s thoughts.

  “No, Miss McAllister. Actually, I was stopping a moment to admire the room. I never take time to appreciate what’s around me.”

  “Because we don’t have time for that, Miss Bradford.”

  “Oh, I am sorry. It was only a minute. I feel we overlook all the beauty God created.”

  “You think God created these things?” Maggie pointedto the table holding the tea set.

  “I think God inspired us to create by giving us the materials we use and the abilities to shape them.”

  “A righteous girl, aren’t you?” Maggie lifted her head and sniffed.

  “Made righteous only by the blood of Jesus, not myself. You see—”

  “Get back to work, Miss Bradford.” Maggie turned and hastily left the room. However, she quickly reentered. “You made me forget why I was looking for you. Please return Mr. Merriweather’s books to the library downstairs. Do you remember where it is?”

  “Yes, ma’am. You showed me my first day.”

  Maggie handed her the books and left without a word, leaving Selma to stare openmouthed after her.

  I need to pray for her when I pray for Rosie….

  Jacob settled into a wingback chair in a far corner of the library. The New York Sun and The New York Times had arrived, and he was anxious to catch up on the news in his home state, especially information about the possible merger of Brooklyn and New York City. It was about creating a larger metropolitan area. He wondered if that was a good thing.

  It was President McKinley’s first year in office and, of course, the newsmen were keeping up with his every move and decision. Jacob turned the pages and noticed an interesting article about one of his own ships loaded with Yukon gold, which that year had weighed anchor for Seattle. Another section headlined women’s suffrage.

  Jacob leaned his head back and sighed. Change was in the air, along with Marxism, Impressionism, and other radical movements. He was afraid his country sometimes left God out of the picture. He knew, however, that He was always in control.

  A thumping noise brought his head up
, and he focused his attention across the room. He smiled. “Good morning.”

  Selma’s head turned hesitantly toward him. “I dropped a book.”

  “I see that. Something you’ve been reading?” He loved an intelligent woman. He seldom encountered one in his world. It was about gowns and batting eyelashes.

  “No, sir. I am returning books for a guest.”

  “Please come sit a moment.”

  “I shouldn’t. I must get back to work.”

  “I fail to see why. After all, aren’t you supposed to be nice to guests?”

  “Actually, I am to care only for your rooms.”

  Her smile hit him in the heart. The lady possessed wit. He laid the paper down so he could concentrate on Selma.

  “I think my friend and your employer would want you to appease me by joining me in conversation at my bidding.” He could tell she didn’t know what to do, so he added, “Please.”

  Selma glanced toward the door. “Well, only for a moment.” She sat on the edge of a settee across from his chair. “You’re reading a paper from New York?”

  “You look as if you are about to jump and run away.” Hegrinned broadly. “Yes, dated days ago, but I love to know what’s going on back home.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Have you ever traveled, Selma?”

  “No, never.” She cast her gaze downward a brief moment.

  “You would be intrigued with New York. It is a big city. It especially will be if it merges with Brooklyn.”

  “Yes, I heard that may happen. I am interested in what’s going on outside Biltmore Village. I think I would like very much to travel.”

  “I predict someday you will. Honestly.”

  “That is my dream.” Her eyes sparkled. “I want to see as much of God’s world as I can.”

  Jacob nodded. “He certainly made a beautiful world. I am always amazed at His creation.”

  “As am I.” Selma stood. “Thank you for allowing me to join you, but I really must go. Miss McAllister seems to keep a close check on me, always waiting around the corner with new orders. …”

  “Why is it that I feel someday you will be the one doing the bidding?”

  Selma shook her head. “That is not really important to me. I am very happy with my station in life. The Bible states that each of us should do our best at whatever position we have. I must go.”

  Jacob watched her walk out and close the door behind her. His voice was soft as he said, “You are very wise, Selma the chambermaid. I hope to learn many lessons from you.”

  At dinner that evening Selma noticed Rosie was in a bad mood. She was mad at Maggie, who’d reprimanded her on the way she treated a guest, mad at the guest, and mad at herself for letting her feelings show.

  She vented as she ate. “Selma, I don’t know how you can be so sweet all the time. Especially to Maggie. She is the meanest woman I have ever known.”

  “Rosie, let me share with you something Mama Elsie taught us at the orphanage. First, we are all different, created by God to be that way. Second, we may have no idea what another person has gone through in life or how lonely that person may be. But know this. Most people respond to love. If you keep loving someone, usually you will be loved back. God gives us that love. In the New Testament, He tells us to love Him and love our neighbors unconditionally. Think about how you feel when you truly know someone loves you. That’s what we all want.”

  “I’ve not been to church very often. But I think I understand what you’re saying. Maybe we can talk more one evening after dinner. Not tonight. I am too upset.”

  “I would love to talk to you. And when we have a Sunday afternoon off together, we can catch a ride into the village and attend the three o’clock church service.”

  “I think I would like that.” Rosie turned back to her food.

  Selma pondered her conversation with Mr. Sinclair that morning. It pleased her that he spoke of God the way he did. He seemed to be a good man. As she continued thinking about the Christmas guest, Selma almost choked whenshe heard Rosie say his name. “What did you say?”

  “I said, of all the gentlemen I have seen here, Jacob Sinclair is the most handsome. He is nice, too. I have encountered him in the hall several times, and he stops and inquires of my well-being. No one else does that.”

  At her words, Selma felt heat rush to her face, and she knew her cheeks must be glowing.

  “You think he’s handsome, too, don’t you? Come on, tell me.”

  “Yes, I think he is. And he’s nice. But we really shouldn’t be talking about a guest that way.”

  Rosie laughed. “I can’t help but notice someone that handsome.”

  “Rosie!”

  “Well, he is a dashing sort. And you obviously agree. I see you turning red at the mention of his name.”

  “That’s enough.” Selma looked at those around her. “Please excuse me. I have to get up very early in the morning.”

  As she left the table, she heard Rosie say, “Sweet dreams.”

  She didn’t look back, leaving Rosie and her irritating smile behind.

  Jacob awoke and stretched his long legs over the end of the bed. His mind wandered until he finally thought about it being the day before Thanksgiving. His mother had admonished him when he told her of his trip to the Biltmore estate for the holidays. Now he thought of his parents and how lonely they would be through Thanksgiving and Christmas without him. How could he have been so selfish? He feltashamed. Yes, he worked, but he still leaned on his retired father to take the reins when he was out of town. Which, he admitted, was often. What has gotten into me? Why am I thinking like this?

  Jacob took his Bible from the nightstand drawer and sat on the edge of the bed. His fingers rubbed the worn leather that carried his family name. It had been his father’s, and the family tree page was faded. He thumbed through, stopping to read a verse here and there. Feeling more peaceful, he eased the Bible back into the drawer before dressing.

  He was just about to leave for breakfast when he heard a knock. As he opened it, his breath caught in pleasant surprise. “Hello. By what good chance does the lovely Selma knock at my door?”

  He noticed her stricken look as the words tumbled out. “Mr. Sinclair, I had nowhere else to turn. A message was sent by the orphanage that Melissa is very ill. The housekeeper has given me permission to go to her, but I have no means of transportation. I know I shouldn’t—”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get my coat.” Jacob noted she already wore hers. He placed his hand at the small of her back and led her downstairs, where he called for a carriage.

  The ride was bumpy, as he drove with haste. He looked over at Selma only once, and her worried face saddened him.

  When they arrived, Jacob helped her down. They found Miss Caps inside the front hall.

  She led them to Melissa’s room while explaining that the doctor was unavailable. “He is in the country delivering a baby. At times Melissa has been feverish to the point of being unresponsive. I have left my assistant with her.”

  Jacob heard Selma’s cry as she ran to her sister’s bed. He turned to Miss Caps. “Do you have any rubbing alcohol?”

  “Yes. Should I get it?”

  “Please. And a cloth and a pan of cool water, that is, if you don’t mind. A nurse used this procedure when I was young.”

  “Of course not.” Miss Caps left the room.

  Jacob turned and approached Melissa’s bed. His hand reached for Selma’s shoulder and squeezed it.

  She didn’t seem to notice. She was talking softly to her sister.

  When Miss Caps returned with the supplies, Jacob rubbed the alcohol on Melissa’s arms, neck, and face, followed by cool water. He turned to Selma, whose eyes intently watched with hope. “Selma, I am going to leave the room. I want you and Miss Caps to undress Melissa and rub her whole body, just as I rubbed her arms. Use the alcohol, followed by the cool water.”

  “Of course,” Selma whispered. “I understand.”
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  Jacob left the bedroom and paced the front hall, praying for Melissa to get better. The assistant brought him tea, which soothed his stomach that was grumbling resentment at being unfed. However, he had no desire at the moment for food.

  Hours later a door burst open, and Selma exclaimed, “Oh Mr. Sinclair, I think her fever has broken.”

  Jacob asked, “Is she dressed?”

  “Partially, but I have her covered. Please come and see.”

  Jacob followed and, upon entering the room, headed straight for Melissa, who was coherent and talking to Miss Caps.

  Melissa smiled at Jacob. “Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I understand you were responsible for bringing my fever down.”

  “With help from these two lovely ladies. I am so glad you are better. We were worried about you.”

  Selma took his hand. “I, too, thank you. You were wonderful.”

  Jacob captured her tearstained face in a glance and then stared into her beautiful green eyes. “Thank you, Selma. I’m glad I could help and thankful that it was my door on which you knocked.” He saw the slight blush on her cheeks and added, “I’m glad you consider me a friend.” He watched the smile soften the tense expression on her face. “Shall we leave Melissa to some rest? I believe she will be fine now.”

  “Yes.” Selma turned to Melissa’s bed and knelt to cuddle her in her arms. “See you soon, sweetheart. Have a good Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

  Melissa’s smile seemed to be that of an angel as she returned her sister’s hug.

  Jacob patted her on the head. “Get some rest. That is the most important thing now.”

  Jacob again placed his hand at the small of Selma’s back as he led her out of the orphanage. He was reluctant to remove his hand when they approached the carriage. It felt so comfortable there.

  The ringing bell woke Selma from a deep sleep. Her neck was stiff and she wondered why. She felt the heat in her cheeks as she remembered her dream. Mr. Sinclair had asked for her hand in marriage in front of all the guests at Biltmore. She shook the remaining thoughts from her head, knowing such a thing could never be.