Read Online Courting Miss Adelaide by Janet Dean - Free Book Online Page B

throat. “If you never met Adam, then the connection had to have been between your mother and Adam.”
    “My mother never mentioned him, but a friend said they were childhood sweethearts. I don’t understand any of it, but I’m going to search the attic to see what I can find.”
    Mary laid a hand on Adelaide’s arm. “Do you want company?”
    At the gesture, Adelaide blinked back sudden tears. “That’s a kind offer, but…why would you want to?”
    “I wouldn’t want to poke around in the past alone. Plus, I knew Sam, and I know Charles. Perhaps I can give you insight.”
    “I’d appreciate it,” Adelaide admitted, then led the way to her shop.
    Inside, they found Laura helping a shopper try on a hat. “Back already?”
    Adelaide took Laura aside. “Thanks for tending the store. Would you mind staying while Mary and I have a visit?”
    Laura greeted Mary, and then smiled. “I’d love to stay. I’ve missed the shop.”
    Adelaide ushered Mary up to her quarters, then lit the lantern and opened the door to the attic. Adelaide climbed the stairs with Mary close behind. In the dim light, Adelaide didn’t see the cobweb until it plastered against her face, a sticky reminder of the attic’s neglect.
    At the top of the stairs, the scent of lavender permeated everything her mother had touched, now mingled with the musty smell of age. Regret she and her mother hadn’t been close laid heavy on her chest. Maybe here she’d find the clue to her mother’s aloofness.
    Mary looked around the stand-up attic. “This is huge,” she said, then sneezed.
    “I’m sorry, it needs cleaning.”
    Mary laughed. “With two boys, I’m used to a little dust.”
    Along one wall stood makeshift shelves filled with long forgotten fruit jars, crocks, a glass butter churn with a wooden paddle, a jar of buttons. Across the way sat a dressmaker dummy and an elaborate wicker carriage.
    Under the window, Adelaide spied the large camelback trunk.
    Dropping to her knees, Adelaide blew a layer of dust off the lid, and then raised it carefully. She removed an old rust-stained quilt then pushed aside a stack of linens. Underneath she found a celluloid-covered box. She tugged it out, and then lifted the tiny brass catch to reveal a stack of handkerchiefs. “Granny must have tatted these.”
    Mary fingered the lace. “They’re lovely.”
    A visit from her grandmother had been an oasis in the desert of her life. She put the box aside to take downstairs.
    Still, no hint here to what went before. Adelaide led Mary past a dresser. Tucked behind a hall tree, she found the small trunk. She rolled it out, its metal wheels squeaking, and then opened the latch. Inside she found another quilt, a half-finished pillow slip, a Bible—Granny’s.
    Had she been foolish to think she’d find anything that would reveal her mother’s past in this dirty, stuffy place?
    About to give up, her hand brushed against paper, paper that crackled with age. “Oh, it’s my parents’ marriage license.”
    The license promised “until death do us part,” yet her parents’ marriage had ended nearly as quickly as it began. Her gaze swept over the wedding date. She gasped. January 17, 1866, not the October date she’d been told.
    “Is something wrong?”
    Adelaide’s fingers flew to her mouth. “They married six months before my birth. I didn’t know.”
    A spark of insight ignited in Adelaide’s heart. Her mother’s warnings about men now made sense.
    Oh, Mama, did my conception end your hopes and dreams?
    The afternoon sun glinted in through the window, sparking off an old mirror in the corner. Adelaide rose and walked to the window facing the street, thinking about her mother’s loss of independence and the load of responsibility she’d carried alone.
    A woman and small child, their eyes downcast, came into view. Adelaide’s pulse tripped. Emma, the orphan girl, held Frances Drummond’s hand. Dressed in black from head to foot, a veil covered