Lavender Lies (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  "Julian, is that you?"

  "Yes, I'm here."

  She wanted to run to him, to feel his strength fill her whole being, but she dared not. "But what are you doing here, Julian?"

  She heard him move across the room until he stood over her. "1 suppose you could say I have come to right a great wrong, Lavender. It seemed while you were with me, I could never think clearly, and I punished you unfairly. After you had gone, I was forced to take a long, hard look at myself, and I did not like what I saw."

  "Julian ... the baby?"

  "He is fine. I will tell you about him in a moment. First let me say what I came to say."

  She swung her feet off the bed and came to a sitting position. "If you would like, I will light a candle."

  "No. It is hard enough for me to humble myself to you without having to watch the pity in your eyes."

  "I don't understand what you are saying, Julian. Why should I pity you?"

  He sat down beside her, taking care not to touch her. "Pity is the most I could ever expect you to feel for me, Lavender. I would count myself fortunate if you do not detest me."

  "Julian, I do not—"

  "Please allow me to say what I have come to say. It must be apparent to you by now that I have come to ask your forgiveness, and to ask you to forget what I did to you."

  She could not see his face, but she felt his nearness. She also felt a lump in her throat, and hoped she could speak. "I do not know if either of us will ever forget, Julian. So much has passed between us that was destructive. If I forgive you, will you also forgive me for what you think I did to your brother?"

  "Lavender, I do not believe that deep down I ever thought you were responsible for William's death. Now I have finally come to the conclusion that neither you nor I should feel guilty because William took his own life."

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and she was glad the darkness hid it from Julian. "Why did you wait so long to come to this conclusion, Julian? You could have saved us both so much heartache if you had understood the truth sooner."

  "I cannot undo what is done, Lavender. But I can see that you receive recompense for all you have suffered at my hands."

  "Julian, I want nothing from you."

  He was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke his voice was hardly above a whisper. "Not even our son, Lavender?"

  Her breath quickened. "I . . . what did you say?"

  "I have brought our son to you. I now know he needs to be with his mother. I think you need him, too."

  Lavender's hand trembled as she reached out to him, and she drew it back before it came in contact with him. "You have brought the baby to me?" she asked in wonder, hardly daring to believe she could have her baby with her.

  "Yes. But I have to be honest. I do not think I started out with the thought of giving him to you. I think 1 only meant to use him to force you to come back to me." Silence hung heavy in the room until Julian continued. "After I thought you might have met with an untimely death at sea, I realized ... I knew that if you were to turn up unharmed, I would give the baby into your keeping, asking nothing in return."

  She wiped the tears away. "Nothing?"

  "Perhaps you could tell my son about me, and when he is older he could come to Mannington for a visit." His voice became deep with emotion. "Perhaps, if you are feeling generous, you might even allow him to be educated in England when he reaches school age. You see, whether he lives with me or not, he will one day inherit my title and lands."

  She was trying hard not to cry. "I don't even know my son's name."

  "I named him Michael for my father."

  "You said you were going to name him for your . . . brother."

  "I changed my mind, because I didn't want to hurt you anymore, Lavender."

  "I do not understand, Julian. Why the sudden interest in my feelings?"

  He stood up and took her hand, bringing her up beside him. "I have much to answer for, Lavender. This is my way of saying I am sorry." She could hear the smile in his voice. "You will note I did not say I apologize, but that I am sorry. I remember everything you say to me."

  "I know you must love the baby. It must be very difficult for you to walk away from him?"

  "Yes . . ." He was silent again as if he were wrestling for the right words. "But I love you more . . ."

  Before she could answer, he had turned away and disappeared through the door. Lavender wanted to run after him, but she stood rooted to the spot. Could she have been mistaken? Had he said he loved her! She eased herself down on the bed, feeling as if she could not breath. She swallowed several times, hoping she did not give in to tears again.

  When she could stop her body from trembling, she moved out into the hallway, her feet hurrying to the front door. Before she got there, she heard a carriage drive away. Flinging the door wide, she watched as the carriage was swallowed up by the night.

  Her aunt spoke up from behind her. "Come into the house, Lavender, I have something to show you."

  In a daze of pain, Lavender's footsteps took her back in the house. She felt her heart beating faster as she saw the strange woman holding a baby! "Lavender," her aunt said. "This is Mrs. Mayhew, a wet nurse. I believe you already know the person she is holding in her arms."

  Lavender took a hesitant step toward her baby son. Tearfully she gathered him to her breast and rained kisses over his soft little cheek. She touched his hands, his hair, kissed him again and again, thinking her heart would burst with happiness. "Have you seen your great-nephew, Aunt Amelia?"

  "Indeed I have. He and I are becoming old friends. Now, since the hour is late, why don't you let Mrs. Mayhew take the baby to the bedroom and put him to

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  bed. There will be plenty of time for the two of you to get to know each other."

  Reluctantly Lavender relinquished her baby to the smiling woman. "I will be up later to see him," she said, asserting her rights and remembering when she had not been allowed to see her son.

  "Very good, madam," the woman said, moving up the stairs.

  When Mrs. Mayhew had gone from sight, Lavender faced her aunt. "Do you know anything about this?"

  "I know that Julian brought an English wet nurse with him, but the woman wants to go back to England, so he found Mrs. Mayhew here in Williamsburg. She is very trustworthy, if that is what is worrying you."

  "No, it's not that. I was wondering how long you had known about the baby."

  "When Julian learned you had returned, he came here straightaway. We had a long talk, and that was when he told me about the baby and the bargain between the two of you. He told me that he was giving you the baby, and that he would be leaving tonight."

  Lavender whirled toward the door. "He is leaving? When? Where is he going? Why didn't he give me a chance to tell him how I feel about him?"

  "I don't know the details, Lavender. As to where he is going, he said something about the atmosphere around here being unhealthy for an Englishman. I assumed he would be returning to England."

  "I have to go to him," Lavender said, running to the door. "I have to tell him I love him, Aunt Amelia."

  "You cannot catch up with him, Lavender. If it is your wish, I will have Nicodemus see if he can locate him and ask him to return."

  "Yes, please, Aunt Amelia. Please send Nicodemus to find him for me."

  It was almost dawn when Nicodemus returned with the news that he had been unable to locate the duke. Lavender stood at the window, watching the sunrise over Williamsburg, feeling as if her heart would break. How could Julian declare his love for her, and then leave before she could tell him how much she loved him? Her joy in having her baby with her was overshadowed by the knowledge of the sacrifice Julian had made when he had handed his son over to her.

  "Well, I must say this looks like a happy gathering." Lavender glanced up and saw her brother advancing across the room toward her. With a happy grin, he swept her and the baby into his arms.

  "Chandler!" Lavender cried, needing his str
ength to lean on. "I am so glad you are here."

  He pulled the blanket aside and peered down at the baby with awe. "So this is my new nephew. He's mighty handsome but not very big."

  Lavender laughed through her tears. "I will thank you to show the proper respect for my son. He is a marquess, you know."

  He smiled at her. "I'm not impressed. You see, my twin sister is a duchess."

  Her eyes became serious. "I am home to stay, Chandler."

  His eyes locked with his aunt's. "One can never be sure how things will turn out, Lavender."

  "Perhaps not, but I have you, Aunt Amelia, and the baby." Sadness surrounded her heart as she was reminded that Julian had no one.

  In the days and weeks that ensued, Lavender heard nothing from Julian. The war was raging closer to home, and she had come to believe that Julian had returned to England. Each day her son became dearer to her, and ever night she cried herself to sleep, fearing she would never again see his father.

  September 14, 1782

  It was a hot afternoon as General George Washington rode his horse into Williamsburg, while crowds of people cheered and waved to him. Lafayette, who had been sick in bed with a fever, came riding at a full gallop toward his commander. Like a boy greeting his father, Lafayette threw his arms around the general's neck, while happiness danced in his eyes.

  Lavender watched the tall, distinguished Washington ride by, knowing she was witnessing an historic moment. The people of Williamsburg cheered their commander, ready to follow him wherever he led. Everyone knew the war was reaching a conclusion, though no one could guess who would be the final victor. Lavender felt in her heart that whoever won, she would have lost. She loved her country, but she had also come to love the country that had given birth to the man she loved and their son.

  With a heavy heart Lavender's eyes turned to Yorktown, where the most important battle of the war would soon be taking place.

  The ground at Yorktown thundered beneath the hooves of the oncoming British cavalry. In the ramparts the cry came again and again to fire muskets. The noise was deafening, as America and her allies pushed the British and Hessian troops forward until their backs were against the York River, cutting them off "from escape by land or by sea. The British were trapped, and still they fought on!

  The British and Americans, once proud brethren under the same flag, had now turned enemies. The British charged, regrouped, and charged again, but the Americans stubbornly held their ground. Losses on both sides were heavy. For days the dead and dying littered the ground, their lifeblood seeping onto the ground they had come to defend.

  October 17, 1782

  Smoke still clung to the morning air as a British drummer began to beat his drum, indicating that the British wanted to parley. When the Americans did not seem to heed the request, a British officer was seen waving a white handkerchief. At last an American officer hurried forward to meet the Englishman, tied a blindfold over his eyes, and led him back to the American lines and to George Washington, himself. The message that was handed to the general was short.

  Sir, I propose a cessation of hostilities for twenty-four hours, and that two officers may be appointed by each side, to meet at Mr. Moor's house, to settle terms for the surrender of the post at York and Gloucester.

  I have the honor to be,

  Cornwallis.

  George Washington's face did not show the emotion he was feeling when he spoke to his aide. "Tell the messenger that we will allow two hours to discuss the surrender, and not the twenty-four hours that have been requested."

  It was strangely silent that night as the star-filled heavens bore witness to a historic moment in time. Word was spreading all over Virginia. Indeed it would quickly spread across the United States. Hostilities had ceased and Cornwallis was to surrender! The war was all but over!

  The British marched solemnly down the road. While the sunlight reflected off the guns and swords, they surrendered to the Americans. A haunting melody filled the air as the British fife and drum played the old English song, "The World Turned Upside Down." The words to the old nursery rhyme were most significant, since the world for the British had turned upside down. As the music echoed across the meadow, the drumbeat set a marching pace for Cornwallis’s defeated troops:

  If buttercups buzzed after the bee,

  If boats were on land, churches on sea,

  If ponies rode men and grass ate cows,

  And cats should be chased to hole by the mouse,

  If the mamas sold their babies to the gypsies for half a crown;

  Summer were spring and the t'other way round,

  Then all the world would be turned upside down.

  The English scarlet jackets mingled with the green of their Hessian counterparts. The uniforms of the French troops that stood at attention on the sidelines rivaled the changing autumn leaves. Looking ragtag in comparison, the victorious American troops stood like poor country cousins, but there was a proud tilt to their heads that lent dignity to their threadbare uniforms.

  Chandler had been granted permission to escort his sister and aunt to the surrender sight so they might witness America's triumph. As Lavender stood beside her brother and Aunt Amelia, tears ran down her face. The defeat was painfully bittersweet for her, because she had come to know and love so many of the English.

  The mood of the Americans was one of elation, as men, women, and children gathered to watch the surrender. Young boys hung out of branches of trees so they could see the defeated enemy. The Americans had fought long and hard for this day, and Lavender could feel the idea of freedom spreading like wildfire throughout the crowd. She could not help thinking what a proud day this would have been for her father. In spirit she felt they were all here today: the dead, the brave, the dying, even Brainard Thruston's spirit.

  Chandler steered Lavender and his aunt away from the crowds so they could be cool beneath the shade of an oak tree. Lavender, hearing riders passing nearby, stared up just in time to see several high-ranking British officers ride by. Suddenly her heart caught in her throat as she saw Julian mounted on a black horse, sitting tall and proud. He had chosen to share his country's defeat and humiliation.

  A sob escaped Lavender's lips when she felt his dark eyes turn to her. For a long moment they stared at each other. There was no mistaking the pleading she saw in those wonderful expressive eyes. He was silently beseeching her, as his wife, to share this moment of defeat with him.

  Lavender took a hesitant step in his direction, wishing she dared to share his pain. Her heart winged its way to him as she mentally tried to reach out to him.

  Julian dismounted from his prancing black steed and handed the reins to Hendrick. Lavender felt Julian tugging at her heart when he raised his arms to her in a silent plea that urged her to come to him.

  "Go to him, child," her aunt whispered in her ear. Lavender looked to her brother. "Your place is with your husband today, Lavender," Chandler agreed.

  Lavender no longer hesitated. Gathering up her gown, her feet seemed to fly across the distance toward her beloved. Julian took a step in Lavender's direction and scooped her into his arms, holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe.

  His eyes searched her face, and he saw the love shining in her eyes. "I love you, I love you," he murmured, unmindful of the curious glances they were receiving from both sides.

  "I love you so much, Julian," she cried. "I would have told you the night you brought the baby to me if you had not rushed away."

  He took her hand and moved her away from curious onlookers. "I never thought you would love me after all the cruel things 1 have done to you." A smile lit his face as he pressed her closer to him. "I may not deserve your love, but I will accept it anyway."

  She pressed her tear-wet cheek against his. "My dearest love, you are the most deserving man 1 have ever known. I love and respect you with all my heart."

  He stared into her blue eyes that were swimming with tears. "You have my word that I will be the man
you can honor and love." He wanted to kiss her, but too many people were watching. Instead he took her hand and turned her to face the line of scarlet-clad soldiers that marched down the road, many crying openly.

  "I feared you had returned to England, Julian, and I

  would never see you again." '

  "No, I could not bring myself to leave. I came by the house several times but could not gather up the courage to knock on the door."-

  She touched his cheek. "If you had, you would have found a very warm welcome."

  He caught his breath, too overcome with emotion to speak. His eyes moved over the long line of marching English soldiers. "It would seem your America has won, Lavender," Julian said, his hand tightening on hers. She could feel his anguish for his country, and wanted to comfort him.

  "Perhaps you and I could set an example for our countries to live by, Julian."

  "Which is?"

  She smiled up at him, loving this tall, dark man with all her being. "I mean, if you and I can overcome our differences, I predict our two countries will one day become friends again."

  "Will you bring my son and come home with me to Mannington?" He searched her face, fearing she would not consent to return to England with him.

  "Yes, my love. I will go wherever you want me, Julian." She smiled. "And as for our son, he needs both his father and his mother."

  His eyes moved over her face. "I wish we were alone. There are so many things I want to say to you."

  "We can wait, Julian. We have the rest of our lives together."

  Julian's dark eyes sparkled, and he pulled her into the crook of his arm. They both silently watched the once proud English soldiers surrender their arms. Julian felt Lavender beside him, lending him her support. "This day, with its humiliations, will pass, Julian," she said, pressing her body closer to his. "But the love I have for you will endure forever."