1 A black Delivery: Part one

Dear Journal, it has been a year since I have written in you, and I do apologize.

Today is Sunday, June 7, 1885. My husband and I have procured a rather large manor overlooking a lovely, willow-lined stream. The home is of a very classic style. Restoring it has been a challenge, but also uniquely rewarding.

It has been a hectic, marvelous year since we first took up residence. I have made some very valuable acquaintances. Two of them, Thea Williams and Beatrice Peters, I am sorry to say, are currently missing. It is of terrible concern to me. They have not been seen for days now and we are at a loss as to where they may be.

Along with the aforementioned missing ladies, plus me, there are two other ladies in our little circle, Clementine Christensen and Viola Jenkins . . .

Matilda's hand ceased scrolling across the worn pages in the old black-bound journal. Updating her journal no longer seemed important today. Those efforts were not upper most in her mind at all. She placed the silver fountain pen and journal on the cool grass, since her thoughts could not escape dwelling on her missing friends.

There was just no way these two ladies would vanish of their own free will, Matilda thought. Simply put, she could not conceive of any reason for them to want to, or need to leave.

As the afternoon passed, the disappearance of her two friends continued to weigh heavily on her mind. She could not seem to unburden her thoughts, even though she wanted more than anything to believe that there was a logical explanation. Matilda continued to reflect on their small circle and the intricacies of each member.

Her friend, Beatrice, has a medical condition that requires frequent attention, plus she is madly in love with her husband, Andrew Peters. Andrew seemed to be a kind, caring, and loving man. Beatrice's disappearance has been quite the blow to him. The poor man does not sleep or eat. Every day before and after work, he sits down at the jailhouse, waiting for someone to take him seriously. The constables all laugh at him, saying she left with another man. Poor Andrew!

Thea Williams, unbeknownst to her family, is a mistress to Sir Edward Brandy. She is very happily involved with him. One might add, it has been speculated that Thea could be pregnant. Since her disappearance, Sir Brandy has started refusing company, including his wife.

Clementine Christensen is the daughter of a retired Yale professor. Her father scarcely lets her out of his sight. When the poor girl is at home, she is expected to study. When she is with ladies of the circle, Clementine is supposed to be expanding her view of the world.

Then there is Viola Jenkins. She is suspected of being abused, perhaps even beaten down, by her husband. She has an inkling that the other ladies know, so their interactions have been sparse of late, if any. On the surface, one would not suspect such circumstances.

And the fifth member of the small circle of friends is Matilda and her heart went out to all these ladies. Matilda Larkin has been happily married to a well-mannered, intelligent, and sophisticated man named Hugh Larkin for three years. Still newly-weds, Matilda thought. The prominent Larkin family is well known in the area and even politically involved throughout the state. Their wealth and influence is wide-spread, and Hugh was considered "quite a catch" for Matilda.

Although the "heir to the family fortune," Hugh never presented himself as other than a down-to-earth, intelligent thinker and doer. And of course he expects and appreciates the same intelligence and drive from Matilda. She loves that he always challenges her. Her largely impulsive and adventurous personality compliments Hugh's more reserved, mature nature, even though in actuality he is only one year older than she.

When they were still children, growing up as close neighbors, he went so far as to try to teach her everything he would learn. As they grew older, Matilda could recall him continually telling her that as girls aged, they could be far more than housekeepers, cooks, and child-bearers. She remembered Hugh stating that women should have the same education as men, so the conversation could be more intricate, a fond memory for Matilda.

Sighing contentedly, Matilda could feel her concentration finally ebbing away, her tense facial expression beginning to relax into her normally soft demeanor. A small smile graced her lips as she listened to the birds chirping away close by. She casually glanced up at the tall oak tree she had propped against, admiring its leaves with their lively green color, dancing in the gentle warm breeze.

She loved her time at this park, usually each Sunday after church, weather-permitting, of course. She could relax on the soft cool grass and let her mind flow with various thoughts and plans, unencumbered by one's everyday interruptions, challenges and issues. Only this Sunday was different . . .

The moment faded as her attention quickly diverted to a large stream that ran briskly through the park. The water was clear, pristine, and somewhat inviting. Matilda's gaze fell on the frail wooden footbridge that crossed over the stream. Her eyes wandered the length, knowing it ended at a small, narrow pathway enshrined by trees.

A walk would do nicely, Matilda thought. After all, sitting under an oak tree could only do so much for her mentality and she was now feeling restless.

Matilda stood up, abruptly shaking out the bottom of her dress, then she loosely tossed her hair to remove any leftover debris from the tree or grass. When she considered herself presentable, Matilda bent down to procure her pen and journal. Tucking her items safely away, she casually walked toward the bridge.