What Is Visible: A Novel by Kimberly Elkins Read Free Book Online

expression—not only did he not smile, even for the photographs, but he positively grimaced. Julia, of course, knew him to be of a naturally stern and even morose disposition, but on this, of all occasions, she believed he should have been willing at least to lift the corners of his thin lips. After all, she had been his friend years before Chev had ever met him, and he should be welling over with happiness for both of them. Instead he’d lumbered around like a kettle on low boil. She had thought she’d understood him, her Charlie, but now it was quite clear she did not. She was fairly certain that her husband—ah, the delight of that word even in her thoughts!―understood their friend more fully, and she couldn’t place a finger on it exactly, but she was sure she didn’t like it. Charlie had already taken up larking about the Institution far too much for her taste.
    But Julia was in such a pleasant frame, she was willing to forgive Sumner. And maybe even Laura would not have ruined the wedding; it had been so perfect. The poor child―perhaps she should have allowed her at the reception, if not the ceremony, and then she wouldn’t be so desperate as to suggest coming with them on the voyage. Julia could not identify with that level of desperation, and she realized the strange depths of the girl’s longing were beyond her. Then again, Laura was young and impressionable, and it was quite apparent that she harbored some absurd, though harmless, attachment to her mentor. Julia couldn’t imagine, even for a moment, what it must be like to be cocooned in darkness and silence, unable to experience the beauty and varieties of the world: the slap of the waves against the ship’s hull, the crystal blue of the water mirroring the sky, matching Chev’s eyes. Who was she, with all the treasure of the world before her, to begrudge such a creature a crumb of happiness? She would buy her a lovely present in Europe, a feather-bedecked bonnet, perhaps, something which she would enjoy touching. Yes, she would show Laura that not only was she not a threat to the couple’s happiness, but that the new mistress of the house could open her heart, at least a tiny crack, to let the girl in, or at least not to completely exclude her. She felt better already just contemplating such compassion on her part, and she knew that Chev would be impressed.
    Julia meandered down the deck, careful to keep her parasol aloft to protect her skin, and nodded at the seamen and the few other early arriving guests. She wondered if they recognized her; if they didn’t, they would soon: Mrs. Samuel Gridley Howe. And though she had promised Chev otherwise, she fully intended to be recognized also as a poet, a major American poet, and sooner rather than later. There would be children, of course, but there must be far more poems than children, and she already had an inkling which one she likely preferred. She’d brought with her in her trunk her well-thumbed copies of Thucydides and Petrarch, both of whom served as inspiration for her latest work. She might have to write under the covers, but she could manage it by pretending to write copious letters home.
    She thought she saw a familiar figure walking toward her from the starboard side. She shielded her eyes against the glare―yes, it was Jeannette, her new sister-in-law! What in heavens was she doing here—a surprise bon voyage perhaps? She didn’t appear to be carrying any presents or bouquets, though.
    Jeannette hurried down the long deck. “Oh dear,” she said, “oh dear,” taking Julia’s hands in hers. “We didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”
    “So late for what?” Julia asked, but the twisting in her stomach told her she already knew the answer.
    “Laura insisted on counting the steps, the whole length of the dock. Eight hundred eighty-seven, I believe. And then Oliver, Oliver had to pet the cow in the hold. Quite remarkable really, one cow to provide milk for a hundred and twenty