Hyacinth (Suitors of Seattle) Read online

  Lawrence sighed. He'd wanted to propose during this picnic. "Could I have a picnic with her in my parlor?" He knew she'd probably say 'no,' but he really wanted to do the picnic now, not in a few months when it was warmer. And he did not want an audience.

  Mary thought about that for a moment before slowly shaking her head. "I'm afraid not. I don't want her alone with you in your home."

  "We wouldn't be alone. My house is always filled with servants." He hoped that would be enough for her. He doubted it, but he was grasping at straws.

  "That's not enough of a chaperone, and you know it." Mary shook her head. "You could use the parlor here."

  Lawrence wasn't about to have a picnic in the Sullivans' parlor where anyone could walk in during the middle of it. "How about if we go to the library and ask Amaryllis if we can use one of the back rooms? We'll leave the door cracked, but it will be like we're having a picnic all alone." They wouldn't be too cold, but they would have privacy.

  Mary considered that for a moment. "I think that's perfectly acceptable."

  Hyacinth frowned. "What if I don't want to go on a picnic, Mama?" Why did everyone seem to think they could make her decisions for her? She was an adult now, and she could make at least some decisions for herself, couldn't she?

  "Nonsense. You love picnics." Mary waved her hand and shooed the young couple off.

  Lawrence helped Hyacinth, who was still frowning, with her coat. "Will I ever get to make a decision about what I want to do?" she asked, her tone grumbling.

  Lawrence laughed. "If you marry me, I'll let you make all the decisions about what we're going to eat."

  Hyacinth didn't think that comment was worth responding to. She followed him out to the buggy, and he helped her up. She was starting to become suspicious of his Tuesday habits. "Where did you get the idea for a picnic?" she asked. Something strange was going on, and she wasn't at all sure it had to do with mental illness.

  He shrugged. "I got some really good advice." It was none of her business that he was reading an advice column.

  "You need to introduce me to this friend who keeps giving you advice. I'm dying to meet him." She knew he had no friends in Seattle other than her and her family. So who was giving him advice?

  "Maybe someday."

  He drove slowly through the streets to the library. "Wait here. I'm going to run in and make sure it's all right with Amaryllis that we use the back room." Hurrying into the library, he stopped at the front desk where Amaryllis was eating her lunch. "I have a favor to ask."

  Amaryllis nodded, setting down her apple. "What's the favor?"

  "I'd like to use your back room for a picnic with Hyacinth. Would that be all right?" He didn't add that he had a ring burning a hole in his pocket, and he was planning on proposing during the picnic. Hyacinth should be the first to know that, not her sister.

  Amaryllis shrugged, nodding. "Sure. Just make sure to keep your voices down, not that I ever have a problem with you two."

  "Thanks, Rilly!" He rushed back out the door and helped Hyacinth down from the buggy, before grabbing the picnic basket and heading back inside with Hyacinth holding his arm.

  He rushed into the back room and pushed aside the boxes of books that had yet to be shelved. Spreading the quilt he'd brought, he put the picnic basket in the center, and then held her hand as she sat down, arranging her skirts around her. "This is the first time I've cooked chicken, so I hope it's good."

  He pulled two plates from the basket and put what seemed to be fried chicken on each plate along with a helping of mashed potatoes, all cold of course.

  Hyacinth looked down at the food and wondered if it was safe to eat. You never could tell what the man was going to do when he was trying to be romantic. "Is there anything to drink?" she asked, wanting to know she'd have something to wash the food down with if it tasted horrible.

  He nodded, pulling out two glasses and a jar of water. "I don't know how to make lemonade, so I just brought some water. Is that all right?" He knew she liked water, but he wasn't certain if she'd be happy with it as picnic fare.

  She nodded, taking one of the glasses and holding it out while he poured the water into it. She took a piece of the breading off of the chicken to taste it, and it wasn't terrible, so she bit into the whole piece. When she pulled it away from her mouth, she saw that the chicken was still pink in the middle. "Stop!" she told him, spitting the food out onto her plate as gracefully as possible. "The chicken isn't cooked on the inside. It might make us sick." She was glad she'd spotted the problem before she swallowed the piece.

  He frowned, frustrated. He couldn't seem to follow instructions at all. "I'm sorry. I did make some jam sandwiches in case the chicken wasn't good." He reached into the basket again and pulled out some sandwiches wrapped in brown paper. "See if this is any better."

  She opened the paper and took a bite of the sandwich. She sighed happily. "That's much better." She looked down at the mashed potatoes that were lumpy and a bit gray. She was almost afraid to taste them, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings. She took a small taste of the potatoes. Not worth eating, but she didn't tell him that.

  Lawrence took a bite of mashed potato and almost spit it out. Who could mess up mashed potatoes? He sighed. He wanted his proposal to be perfect, so obviously it wouldn't do to propose over this picnic. Everything about it was far from perfect, and it just wouldn't do for his Hyacinth.

  They talked softly while they ate. She asked some questions about the Indian tribe she knew he'd visited the day before. "Are you going to use them in the book you're writing?"

  He shook his head. "Not this one. This story is more about a pioneer family and the trials they face. No, in my next book, I'm going to use the tribe. I'm working on plotting that one out as I write this one. I think I'm going to have the Indian tribe find a baby who was left all alone. They raise it, but it's a white child, so when it's grown, they send him back to live with the white people. I want to talk about the white world from the perspective of the Indians."

  Hyacinth smiled. "That sounds fascinating. I can't wait to read it." She put down her sandwich and took a sip of water. "How did you research the book you're writing?" She loved that he had the freedom to travel where he wanted for his research. She wouldn't have that any time soon, because her mother was so overprotective. She could just envision introducing herself as a writer, and then having to introduce her mother who would be staying with her.

  "I spent a year living with a family in North Dakota. I went to work with the father frequently, and sometimes I stayed with the mother and watched how she worked around the home. I have pages and pages of notes on how she managed. It was a good learning experience for me. I grew up with almost no money, so I understood that aspect of it, but they not only had no money, they had no way of buying the conveniences we have in the city even when they did have money from time to time. There aren't as many conveniences in Seattle as there were in New York, of course, but there are a great deal more than they had out on the prairie."

  "That sounds really interesting." She frowned. "I wish I could get that deeply into research for one of my books, but Mama would never allow it. She can't stand even having Jasmine and Daisy living in 'poor conditions' in the country the way they do. She thinks we should all live close to home, preferably on the same street, so she can watch over us."

  He laughed. "Well, if you marry me, you won't be on the same street, but at least you'll stay in Seattle. That'll make her happy, right?"

  She nodded. "Happier than she is with my sisters at least." She eyed Lawrence across the picnic blanket. "I sometimes wish I'd been born a man so I could have the kind of freedom you have to do the things you need to do to research your books."

  Lawrence choked on his water. "I'm very happy you weren't born a man." He moved toward her on the blanket, cupping her face in his hands. "If you were a man, I couldn't do this." He lowered his mouth to hers, catching her sigh of pleasure with his lips.

  Hyacinth wrapped
her arms around him, feeling the familiar tingling sensation shooting through her body where he touched her. She opened her mouth for his kiss and stroked his shoulders, loving being so close to him.

  Lawrence moved his hand down her shoulder and across her arm, trailing his fingers over her dress. His hand moved over her waist, and he could feel her corset through the fabric. His hand moved up over the corset to cup her breast in his palm.

  Hyacinth let out a gasp of pleasure and astonishment, arching into his hand. She knew she shouldn't let him touch her that way, but it felt so good.

  When Hyacinth didn't protest his touch, Lawrence carefully lowered her onto her back on the blanket and loomed over her, staring down into her brown eyes. Her looks were so different than her sisters, but he was so attracted to her. He couldn't imagine a girl who would suit him better than Hyacinth. "You are truly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

  Hyacinth blushed. "You look at me through different eyes than everyone else does then."

  "They're all blind," he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again. This time his kiss was more aggressive, his tongue firmly staking its claim. His hands roamed up and down her sides, exploring her body through her dress. One of his legs moved between hers and he pressed his knee into the notch between her legs.

  Hyacinth clung to his shoulders at first, but slowly felt more at ease, and she roamed her hands over his back. How could this be the same man who went crazy once per week?

  She stopped, startled when she heard a loud throat clearing, pushing Lawrence away. Amaryllis stood in the doorway with one eyebrow raised. "I don't think this is the time or the place."

  Lawrence rolled off of Hyacinth, turning his back to both the sisters and facing the wall as he got his emotions and passions under control. His breathing was uneven as he fought to control himself. Of all the people who could have caught them, he was glad it was Amaryllis, but he was still mortified.

  Hyacinth sat up, looking over at Lawrence with his back to her. Was he ashamed of her? She blushed, pulling her knees close and resting her face between them.

  When neither of them said anything, Amaryllis shook her head. "I'm just going to leave this door wide open for the rest of your picnic."

  As soon as Amaryllis left, Hyacinth sprang into action, putting away the rest of the food from their lunch and rushing to put everything back to rights. She didn't know how she'd ever face her sister or Lawrence again. What had they been thinking, rolling around on the floor in the library that way? She knew the answer for her of course. She hadn't been thinking. Her mind flew away every time he touched her.

  Lawrence turned around and saw the blush on her face, helping her clear things up. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you know," he said softly. "I was the one who started everything." He didn't want her to think she'd done anything wrong. He planned to marry her just as soon as he could after all.

  "But I knew very well that what we were doing was wrong, and I should have stopped you. I can't let a man take liberties like that just because it feels good." She shook her head, more than a little embarrassed by the passion she'd shown him.

  "Does it?"

  "Does what?"

  "Does it feel good?" Lawrence needed to know that she enjoyed his touch as much as he enjoyed touching her.

  She nodded slowly. "It feels amazing." She knew she shouldn't admit it, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "I wish we never had to stop."

  He smiled, glad they'd come on the picnic after all. If she felt that strongly about how much she enjoyed being touched by him, then they would suit very well.

  *****

  Later that afternoon, Lawrence was trying to work, but all he could think about was how Hyacinth had looked with her hair mussed as she lay on her back on the blanket. He had to convince her to marry him soon. He wondered if she would marry him on the day he asked her. He closed his eyes envisioning how it could be.

  "Hyacinth, would you do me the great honor of being my wife?" he would ask as he knelt on one knee at her feet.

  She would clasp her hands together and look at him adoringly. "Oh, I can think of nothing I would like more. Let's go to the preacher now. I don't need anyone there but you."

  When his mind started to venture into the wedding night, and he was fantasizing about how soft her skin would be under his fingertips, he knew it was time to stop. A nice walk in the cold rain might cool his libido. Something had to.

  *****

  "Are you going to marry Lawrence?" Mary asked later that afternoon as she and Hyacinth sat in the parlor knitting.

  Hyacinth shrugged. "I don't know, Mama. Sometimes I think he's the only man I would ever want to marry, and sometimes I think that he's too crazy to even think about marrying."

  Mary smiled. "I think it's only love for you that makes him crazy. He seems perfectly normal when he's not doing one of the special things he does for you." Mary had noted her daughter's swollen lips and mussed up hair when she'd come in. It hadn't taken a genius to know what had happened with Lawrence. "You enjoy when he kisses you, don't you?"

  Hyacinth blushed. "I do like his kisses. Is that wrong?" She said a silent prayer that it wasn't, because she wasn't going to give up his kisses no matter what her mother said about it.

  Mary shook her head emphatically. "If you didn't like his kisses, I would tell you that you shouldn't marry him. But, if you like them as much as I think you do, I think you need to just ask him why he goes crazy on Tuesdays. There has to be some sort of perfectly logical explanation. No man just wakes up once a week and says, 'I'm going to do something incredibly stupid today.'"

  Hyacinth giggled. "Lawrence does."

  "I don't think that could possibly be true." Mary frowned. She wished she could come up with some sort of plausible explanation for the man's craziness. "Ask him about it."

  Hyacinth sighed. "If he goes crazy next Tuesday, I will ask. Otherwise, I'm just going to assume it's all been my imagination, and he's as normal as everyone else." She would definitely like to think it had all been her imagination. No woman wanted to be married to a man who was crazy one-seventh of the time.

  Mary shook her head. "We all know he's not as normal as everyone else is. Especially on Tuesdays." She thought about it for a moment. "I wonder if Amaryllis has some idea of what's going on with him? She knows him better than I do, and she's known him longer than any of the rest of us."

  "I guess I could ask her," Hyacinth mumbled. She wasn't looking forward to having to see her sister again anytime soon, though. Not after Amaryllis had caught her rolling around on the floor with Lawrence. What was she thinking to do that in the middle of the public library? There were better places to go and kiss your beau. There had to be.

  Chapter Nine

  If you have trouble learning to speak to a woman, find someone else to practice on first. Maybe you could try speaking romantically to your friend, your sister, or even your mother. Most any woman would be thrilled to help you learn to romance someone. Just make certain it's not a woman who is in love with you that you choose. That might be awkward. William Livingston, Advice Column to Lonely Men published in The Seattle Times, January twenty-sixth, 1897.

  Lawrence read the column once more and thought about who he could practice on. Of course, for him there was only one answer. He'd have to talk to Amaryllis. So she'd know he wasn't losing his mind, he carefully cut the article from the newspaper so he could show her. Today was Hyacinth's day to spend with her mother, so it was the perfect day to practice.

  He went to the library as soon as it opened and walked straight to the front desk where Amaryllis was seated. She was putting a stack of cards in alphabetical order, and he waited until she stopped for a moment and looked up at him. "Lawrence. Good to see you. Where's my sister? I see she's not attached to your lips today."

  Lawrence blushed. "She spends every Tuesday with your mother. I think she avoids me on Tuesdays, to be honest with you." He frowned as he said the words, even though he knew they were
true.

  "Why would she do that?"

  He shrugged, not wanting to elaborate. "I have a favor to ask you." He needed to be honest about what he was doing. There was no way he could practice on Amaryllis if she didn't know. It would be awkward enough as it was.

  "If it involves picnic baskets and my younger sister, the answer is a very firm no. I don't ever want to walk in on what I walked in on last week again."

  Lawrence made a face. "No, this is worse. At least for me."

  Amaryllis sighed. "Worse? Is that even possible?"

  "Well, you see I've been taking advice from a columnist in The Seattle Times," he began, briefly explaining about the advice he'd received from the paper. "The column comes out every Tuesday. This week's advice is to practice talking romantically to a woman you feel at ease with. For me, in Seattle, that's you. So, I want to talk to you later, when you're not expecting it, and I want to try and be romantic. I thought you'd rather I didn't just walk up to you and start doing it."

  Amaryllis let out a slight giggle. "You want to practice courting on me so you can court my sister?"

  Lawrence frowned. "I know how ludicrous it sounds, but that's what the column says to do." He dug into his pocket and handed it to her.

  When Amaryllis read it, she shook her head. "Oh, Lawrence. This man has no idea what he's talking about. Just be yourself and Hyacinth will love you. I honestly think she already does."

  He sighed. "But can I practice on you? Please?" Mr. Livingston's advice had worked well so far, and he wasn't about to abandon the man now.

  Amaryllis shrugged. "I suppose, but if Alex walks in and sees you sweet-talking me, I won't be responsible for the consequences. He might very well go insane over something like that. You're not exactly his favorite person in the world anyway."

  "Your husband needs to trust you more." Lawrence shook his head at her. "There's one person who will not be welcoming me into the family with open arms."