Gage snorted. “He’s been paid far too well as it is.”
“I figured as much, but I thought you should know. He’s not above making trouble whenever he can. He and Roxanne Corbin got into a row because Mrs. Pettycomb repeated a remark that he had made about Roxanne’s expectations being too farfetched if she actually believed that any man would marry a horse-faced spinster. Roxanne came over and confronted him right on his front porch, called him a spineless little toad because he hadn’t dared say what he thought to her face. Well, he repeated the insult for her benefit, and Roxanne just about gouged his eyes out before he began to pound on her. I ran over there to pull them apart, but it was like being caught between two cats hissing and spitting mad. Roxanne was pretty bruised up, but Myers had deep claw marks down his face and throat. I didn’t offer to tend either of them, figuring they both deserved it, Myers for opening his mouth and Roxanne for seeking him out.”
“Myers should be more careful if he plans to live to a ripe, old age,” Gage remarked. “Courting disaster with the wrong person can make a man seriously regret his foolishness.”
“Diplomacy has never been one of Myers’s strong points, as you and I both know, but I doubt he can malign us too badly when we have truth on our side. Because of you, Annie is safe from his abuse and has become close friends with Calley. Annie’s life has changed for the better, and if she’s willing, we can start our own family. Perhaps someday she’ll be able to forget the child that was taken from her. If you’re in agreement, I’m prepared to repay you the money you expended in her behalf.”
“I’m in total agreement,” Gage replied, and lifted a brow in a lopsided query despite the ache in his head. “Will you invite us to your wedding?”
Colby chuckled. “If Annie will have me.”
“She will.”
The doctor laid a leather pouch filled with coins on the bedside table and then quietly left the room. In the stillness that ensued, Gage felt the hand resting on his chest begin to move in a leisurely caress, and he glanced down to find his wife smiling up at him.
“Have I ever told you, Mr. Thornton,” Shemaine whispered sleepily, “how very, very precious you are to me?”
His heart swelled with joy. “Does that mean you love me, Shemaine?”
“Aye, Mr. Thornton. That means I love you very, very much.”
Gage gathered the slender fingers in his hand and brought them to his lips for a gentle kiss. “And I love you, madam, very, very much.”
CHAPTER 19
William and Gage Thornton resembled each other in more ways than just looks, Shemaine decided after trying to keep them both abed for more than a day. Though Gage was still suffering from a throbbing headache the next morning, he completed his regular chores and then went back to work in the cabinet shop. That same afternoon, while Shemaine was out in front of the cabin washing clothes in the stream, his father attempted to make his way from the loft to the privy outside, even though a chamber pot had been placed conveniently at hand. After descending most of the stairs, he became faint, lost his balance, and toppled down the remaining steps, ripping open a goodly number of stitches and, in the process, starting the blood flowing again. Andrew witnessed the event from the back corridor and, wide-eyed with fear, ran out to the front porch to yell for Shemaine to come back quickly and help his grandfather.
The clothes went flying helter-skelter, and by the time she arrived, William had pushed the tail of his nightshirt down over his naked loins, restoring his modesty to some degree, and pulled himself to a sitting position against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. The grimace on his face conveyed the pain he was suffering. Still, he uttered no more than a choked-off moan when Shemaine tried to haul him to his feet. William was too weak to lend her much assistance and too heavy for her to lift alone, as much as Andrew tried to help her.
“Andy, go get your father at the cabinet shop,” she bade. “And hurry!”
Gage returned in short order with Sly Tucker, and between the two of them, they carried William back to his bed. His lordship, anxious to preserve propriety with a lady present in the room, dragged the sheet up over his waist before he would allow them to strip off the bloodstained nightshirt. It was Shemaine who gently swabbed his back clean while Gage pressed a towel firmly against the rent in an effort to stem the fresh flow of blood.
“Is Gran’pa goin’ to be all right?” Andrew asked worriedly, reluctant to come any closer than the top of the stairs, for the sight of so much gore had frightened the boy.
Shemaine offered a smile of encouragement. “Your grandfather is going to be just fine, Andy. He’s too ornery to allow a little mishap like this to trouble him.”
Flushing red with chagrin, William shot a glance toward the girl and promptly became the recipient of a pointedly eloquent stare. Shemaine had no need to chide him for what he had done; he knew he deserved it only too well. Frightening the boy was only a small part of it.
Colby was already making the rounds and arrived soon after they had managed to stem the bleeding. He was furious that the elder had tried to get out of bed so soon after suffering such a serious wound.
“You leave this bed one more time and rip open any more stitches, and I’ll have no recourse but to lay a red-hot iron to close up the wound! Do you understand what I’m saying? I didn’t patch you up just so you could kill yourself going to the privy.” In a vivid display of outrage, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the necessary item. “The pot’s right there, just waiting to be used! So save me a few trips out here to mend you up and do so!”
Having bravely crept forward, Andrew now sank behind the head of the cot until his nose rested on the feather ticking. He wasn’t at all certain he liked the man scolding his grandfather. If ever he got sick or injured, he just hoped the doctor wouldn’t have to be fetched for him.
Colby Ferris didn’t limit his criticism to his lordship, but turned a glare upon Gage, who was standing at the basin washing his father’s blood off his forearms. “And what are you doing out of bed? Didn’t I tell you to stay there for a while?”
“I did. . . . for a while,” Gage retorted with a grin. “But I had work to do.”
“ ‘Tis evident the both of you are close kin!” Colby grumbled, and eyed Shemaine as a possible source of help. “Perhaps you can do something to convince these two to heed my advice.”
Shemaine smiled and began laying out clean linens for the bed and fresh swabs for the doctor to use while he restitched the wound. Remembering one of James Harper’s favorite sayings, she turned it into a question. “Have you ever seen the sun setting in the east, Dr. Ferris?”
Flicking a glance from father to son, Colby set his lips awry in perturbation. The two showed no remorse and would obviously do what they wanted. “I see what you mean.”
“Still, they might set a better example for the boy if they were more attentive to your instructions,” Shemaine added, smiling up at Gage as she handed him a towel. “I’m sure they would expect Andrew to do what you say, Doctor, just as my husband expects his men to glean guidance from his expertise.”
Colby smiled, realizing the lady was effectively getting her point across with gentle reasoning far better than he had with his ranting. Seeming suddenly abashed by the poor example they had set for the boy, Gage and William looked toward Andrew. It was William who twisted slightly to take his grandson’s hand and pull him around to the side of the bed.
“Do you understand that I brought this new trouble on myself by not listening to the doctor?” The child stared at the elder with widened eyes as he continued. “I should have had more consideration for your mother and the trouble I made bloodying the sheets and the stairs. I know what I did frightened you, and I’m sorry for that. I should have stayed here in the loft and not tried to go downstairs. Had I done so, I wouldn’t be needing more stitches now. Do you understand?”
The boy nodded, and William ruffled his dark hair, winning a grin from the youngster.
Wiping his hands on the towel, Gage gave his wife a smile as he ceded to her gentle arguments. “All right, my love, I’ll go tell my men to work the rest of the day without me. Does that please you?”
“ ‘Twill relieve my worries knowing you will rest.” Shemaine reached up and, lightly combing her fingers through his hair, gently felt the swelling that was still there beneath the neatly closed gash. “I don’t want anything to happen to you now that we’ve found each other.”
It was rumored that Gertrude Turnbull Fitch had caused such a row in Newportes Newes after the death of her father that officials of the hamlet had started making inquiries about her possible involvement in the plot to blow up Gage Thornton’s ship. To assure himself of some avenue into the Turnbull wealth, Captain Fitch forcibly hauled his wife aboard the London Pride and set sail for England before anyone actually decided to arrest her. She hissed like a viper, laying a severe tongue-lashing upon him, but Everette only smiled, for her threats carried little weight now that J. Horace Turnbull was dead. He promised himself that it would be Gertrude’s last voyage on the London Pride, for she had cost them more in lives lost than he had ever managed to pilfer from the coffers. James Harper and the crew guessed their captain’s intentions, but they didn’t dare let out sighs of relief. After the shores of England were reached and they had seen the last of the shrew, then there would be a celebration the likes of which they had heretofore only dreamed about.
At first, Shemaine and Gage were both hopeful that Potts had been aboard the vessel when it embarked upon the return voyage, but they soon learned that he had jumped ship and was still in the territory. Some said he was keeping company with Morrisa again, and if that was the case, it was not hard to surmise that with Freida closely watching over her girls and their accounting of customers, Potts was having to pay through the nose for any favors he might be receiving from Morrisa. A tar’s wages could not last long with such prurient indulgences, and it was supposed that one day soon he would have to find work or resort to drastic measures to gain the coins he would need to merely exist.
Potts’s welfare was of little consequence to Shemaine and Gage. They were far more concerned with the threats he had made in the past and feared the day was swiftly approaching when he would again be seeking his revenge. Not an hour went by that they didn’t wonder if he was in the woods again, watching for an opportunity to kill one of them.
Soon after the departure of the London Pride, Calley gave birth to a little girl, and her joy was complete. Annie stayed for another week, just long enough for the woman to get back into the routine of running her household again. In the ensuing days a small wedding was planned for Annie and Dr. Colby Ferris at a church in the hamlet. Only a few close friends would attend the ceremony, but everyone else was invited to a large feast at the tavern, which served the best food in town. For that particular afternoon at least, the owner had promised to keep Freida and her girls from plying their trade on the premises, a situation that did not necessarily please the madam.
Mary Margaret kindly offered to come out and sit with Andrew and William while Gage and Shemaine attended the ceremony and festivities. Since it promised to be a late hour before they returned, the couple had invited Mrs. McGee to spend the night with them so she wouldn’t have to make the trip back at a late hour. The woman readily accepted. But William was not at all keen about the idea. His hackles rose at the thought of having an Irish nursemaid looking after him, but being for the most part restricted to his narrow bed by firm orders from the doctor, he could find no avenue of escape.
Gage showed no sympathy toward William’s grumbling complaints. “I’ve seen old boars with better temperaments than you have,” he accused, having grown exasperated with his father’s continual harping about Mrs. McGee coming out to watch over them. “You’ve complained about the discomfort of your bed, the lowness of the ceiling, the inconvenience of peeing in a pot, and a long list of other things, not the least of which is the fact that you and Andrew will be left in the care of Mrs. McGee, a perfectly capable, kindly old woman—”
“Old woman . . . humph!” William snorted, jamming his pillow more firmly beneath his head with a balled-up fist. “Old shrew, more likely! What is she going to do, run and fetch the pot when I’ve got to go? By George, I’ll rot in hell first!” It was positively absurd to imagine himself being attended by some harpy who’d think of him as an invalid and, in her zeal to be helpful, try to lift the tail of his nightshirt as he staggered weak-kneed toward the chamber chair. He had been imprisoned in this damned loft far too long and certainly needed no decrepit ancient assisting him! “Blast it all, Gage! I don’t need any nosy-posy tending me!”
Gage struggled valiantly not to laugh. He could understand his sire growing petulant now that he couldn’t move about with his customary agility and energy, but the wound had been serious and would take time to heal, definitely much longer than his father seemed willing to consider or, for that fact, had the patience for.
“Mrs. McGee will be coming here mainly for Andrew’s benefit,” Gage stated slowly, as if to help his parent understand the necessity of the woman’s presence. “And if, in the process of looking after him, she may consent to serve you a meal or do you some small service, then I would urge you not to resist unduly. Mrs. McGee is not so old that she can’t give you a proper tongue-lashing.”
“Just how old is the biddy, anyway?” William barked. “Doddering and dowdy, I presume!”
“Actually, Mary Margaret is quite a handsome woman.” Gage’s lips began to twitch with amusement as he realized his sire seemed far more concerned about the woman’s age than with anything else. “I suppose we could have found a younger woman to sit with you, but she might not have been nearly as comely.”
William squinted suspiciously at his son as he pressed the point. “How old did you say she was?”
Gage shrugged. “Actually, I didn’t. I don’t have any idea how old she is. I never felt inclined to ask, but it can’t be too much older than you, if at all. What are you, sixty-five? She’s got to be around that age, plus or minus.”
Andrew came thumping up the stairs with an armful of books and, upon reaching the loft, immediately scurried to the cot, where he dropped his burden beside the elder.
“Mommee Sheeaim said you can read to me if’n ye want, Gran’pa, ’cause she’s gettin’ dressed and can’t take time right now.” Propping his elbows on the edge of the cot, the youngster settled his chin in his hands and peered at his grandfather cajolingly. “Will you, huh, Gran’pa?”
William could not resist his grandson’s heartwarming entreaty. Clearing his throat, he assumed a more benevolent demeanor for the child, but his cheeks took on a ruddy hue as he flicked his gaze toward Gage and gestured lamely toward his leather trunk. “You’ll find a pair of spectacles in the top receptacle. Will you fetch them for me?”
“I’ll get ’em, Gran’pa!” Andrew cried eagerly, and ran to the chest as his father lifted the lid and folded back the cover of the first compartment. Receiving the eyeglasses with an admonition to be careful, the boy returned to his grandfather and watched curiously as the elder put them on. William glanced askance at the child, who, greatly intrigued by his own reflection in the lenses, leaned close in front of the elder’s face.
“Do you see a little squirrel?” William queried fondly.
“I see Andee!”
“I think that’s a little squirrel you see,” William teased as a grin was wrenched from his lips.
“Oh, no, Gran’pa!” Andrew curled a finger inwardly and jabbed at his own chest. “That’s me! Mommee Sheeaim show me in the water when we go down by the pond! That’s Andee!”
“I see a little squirrel from this side of the eyeglasses.”
“Can I see?” Andrew could hardly restrain himself as he pressed his face alongside his grandfather’s and tried to look through the lenses from the older viewer’s direction.
William’s grin broadened as he cut his eyes askance. “See an
ything?”
Closing one eye, Andrew squinted more intently. “Huh-uh.”
“Then perhaps you should wear them yourself for a better view.”
Andrew willingly allowed the wires to be affixed behind his ears, but when he tried to look through the spectacles, his eyes soon crossed. Turning his head this way and that, he tried to right his vision. “Gran’pa! I can’t see nothin’!”
Gage pressed a lean knuckle across his lips to forestall his laughter. From his point of view, the strong lenses made his son look more than a little bug-eyed. He tiptoed across the room to the stairs and paused there to glance back as his father scooped up a sketch of a squirrel he had drawn earlier that day.
William held it in front of the boy and urged, “Now take the glasses off.”
Andrew obeyed, and his expression changed to one of elation as he saw the lifelike sketch. “Oh, Gran’pa! You draw squirrel good like Daddee draw ship!”
Gage descended the stairs with the same care with which he had crossed the room, for he was unwilling to disturb the two, who were completely engrossed with each other. It had warmed his heart immensely to see his father playing with Andrew, for it was a cold fact that he had never thought his sire would ever care for his grandchildren. Now he was seeing the elder in a different light, one that had been illumined by the natural inquisitiveness of a child.
Shemaine looked up as Gage came into their bedroom and immediately turned around to show him the laces that had become ensnared at the back of her bodice. “I must be getting fat! Or Victoria was as thin as a reed when she wore this gown! I had to let out the laces so I could breathe, and look what I’ve done trying to get them adjusted!”
Coming up close behind his wife, Gage slipped his arms around her and assumed a thoughtful expression as he cupped her breasts within his hands. “Aye, there’s more than a handful now.” He leaned over her shoulder and, plucking the neckline away from her bosom, peered down into the garment to admire the swelling fullness that rose tantalizingly above the lace-trimmed chemise. “Two ripe melons ready to be devoured. I can hardly wait ‘til we return tonight.”
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