Chapter 5
Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you. Matthew 5:11,12
THOUGHTS OF CLAYTON Bridgewater the Third consumed Mia’s mind over the week of Christmas. She found herself checking her cell phone on numerous occasions in case he texted her. Sometimes before bed after she read her nightly devotional and had said her prayers, she caught herself looking up at the moon shining down gloriously over Central Park from her bedroom window, wondering if he was looking at it, too.
Although she was overjoyed to spend time with her parents, seeing the relationship between them and her aunt improve, Mia found herself thinking about Clay and his reputation. Was he really the bad boy everyone seemed to think he was?
She wondered if the penalty of consequences had changed him. Or had lawyers made things too easy for him? Had something or someone transformed him? While she had no doubt Nora was trying to push her away so she could have a chance to bring about the wishes of the Chandler family for a union between them, she couldn’t help but wonder if her family knew what Nora knew. She also wondered to what extent Clay’s problems had damaged his reputation, and if they were related to alcohol or drug issues.
Various newspapers and society columns offered press coverage and photographs from the recent ball, and she remembered how many times they’d paused for reporters to take pictures throughout the event. While her aunt and mother took great pains to find and clip the articles and photos to paste them into scrapbooks, Mia dropped the clippings they gave her into a desk drawer in the brownstone bedroom. Not one to enjoy the spotlight, she tried to pay little attention to them. She did like one of the photos of her pictured with the other debutantes in a group, and one of her and Clay together in a formal pose, and one of her in an elegant dip when they’d been dancing. When she thought about framing the photo, she was pretty sure she’d fallen head over heels with Mr. Handsome. Her aunt had been right. There was something significant about these events that seemed to lead to romance.
Nonetheless, a frenzy of last minute Christmas shopping and the presence of her family beckoned her attention. There were events her aunt had planned for them, a few gifts to mail, and several sewing projects to complete because they were gifts. She had little time to daydream or wonder about Clayton. They would attend the Christmas Eve church service at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, admire the decorations in Central Park, and enjoy the crowds in the department stores.
There were gift wrapping counters to stand in line at, and an even longer one when she waited at the post office to mail presents to her sweet daycare students in Kentucky. And, there were her dog walking adventures, something she hadn’t had time to explain to her aunt yet. Perhaps she’d even avoided giving an explanation, knowing Sylvia might take issue with it.
“Who are all your gifts for?” Mia’s mother asked while they waited patiently in the local post office line. Her mom was holding some of the gifts since there were too many for Mia to carry. Sylvia had taken her dad to lunch at a fancy French restaurant in Upper Manhattan to catch up with her brother, and Mia was enjoying some alone time with her mom.
“One each for my sweet daycare students, Joey, Shiloh, Ella, Aaron, and Eli. Oh, and one is for Rowan.” Rowan was Mia’s best friend in Kentucky who’d already sent her a handmade scarf. It was crocheted from a lilac colored angora yarn. “I’m sending a toy boat to each of the boys, and a doll to Shiloh and Ella. For Rowan, I made a winter fashion shawl using a plaid wool fabric in dark green and navy blue.”
“Sounds like excellent choices,” her mom replied as she shifted some of the packages to her other hip. “The children’s mothers from our church will appreciate these gifts, and I know they all miss you. I’m sure Rowan will be happy to receive your gift, too. I’m glad you two are keeping in touch.”
“Did you find anything for Sylvia while we were shopping today?” Mia asked, wondering if the gifts she had for her aunt would be adequate. What does one buy someone who has everything? She’d settled on sewing a plaid shawl for a more personalized gift for both her aunt and mother, and a wool scarf for her dad. Today, she’d found the perfect gold pins to accompany the shawls, and gloves for her dad. Each pin had a gold bow with a locket dangling from it. She’d also purchased all three of them interesting books from the bookstore they’d visited yesterday. There was a mystery for Dad, a bakery romance for Mom, and a Regency novel for her aunt.
“I did find something for Aunt Sylvia.” Her mother nodded. “It was difficult, but I settled on giving her one of those wooden food boards for serving appetizers. It comes with accessories like bowls for dipping sauces and pronged forks. It’s in this other bag I’m carrying, and it sure is heavy. Is it our turn yet?”
“Not yet, but a great choice, Mom. She does a lot of entertaining with her friends. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” Mia smiled. “What’d you get Dad?”
“A new, long-sleeved, white button-up, collared shirt and an olive green silk designer tie to go with his black or navy suit,” her mom explained. “He wanted something new to wear when he’s preaching.”
“Good idea. I bought him a pair of brown leather gloves lined with sheepskin wool, and I’ve been sewing him a red and navy blue, plaid, wool scarf. I thought they’d look nice with his winter coat.” Mia brightened when the clerk beckoned them forward. “Oh, it’s finally our turn.”
“Your dad will appreciate those gifts, Mia. His gloves are worn out, and he doesn’t really like his current scarf.”
“Good to know,” Mia acknowledged as they stepped up to the next available postal clerk at one of the many windows. “Why don’t we stop for lunch at an Italian restaurant around the corner? They have the best ravioli and salad.”
When they’d finished mailing Mia’s packages back to Kentucky and had stepped away from the window, her mom asked, “Is the restaurant expensive?”
“Don’t worry, Mom. Aunt Sylvia gave me a credit card I can use for anything I need,” Mia explained.
A FEW DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, Mia wandered into the formal dining room for breakfast, humming the melody for “The Little Drummer Boy.” As she sipped a peppermint mocha from the carafe on the buffet, and ate a few bites of a flaky croissant prepared by her aunt’s cook, she reached for one of the several daily newspaper editions on the table. Had her parents or aunt been awake, she’d likely have disregarded the paper to ask them about their plans for the day and engage them in other conversation. Since she was alone, it gave her something to do as she prepared for the day ahead.
As she turned the pages to read a few of the headlines, a smaller headline in a society column caught her eye. COUNTRY BUMPKIN HEIRESS ESCORTED BY HEIR TO BILLIONS AT HIGH SOCIETY BALL. Her heart sank when she caught her name and Clay’s in the article. She had a feeling this was a payback from Nora for being caught in a kiss with the man she sought to please her family’s ambitions.
Mia scanned the column, her heartbeat racing as she read the brief entry about her and Clayton. She couldn’t be sure if Nora Chandler was behind the article, but she was fairly certain. There was a photo of her line dancing barefoot with the other debs and guests, and it appeared as if it had been taken using a cell phone rather than one of the professional cameras used by reporters covering the event. The columnist sited a private source for the photo and information. The writer went on to attack her education, social graces, and evangelical faith. Tears pooled in her eyes as she caught phrases such as lacking sophistication, unrefined, lacking polish, and a fish out of water.