by Joann Simon
"So you are happy with it, my love?" Christopher stood with his arm about her shoulders as they watched Kit scampering through the greening patch of meadow before them.
"Nothing could be more right for us."
"My thought exactly. When we drive back to town I will put a deposit with the owner." He rested his cheek against the top of her head. "We will be happy here. Kit already seems to sense that."
"I sense it, too. I can picture the house already standing."
He chuckled. "We will see what we can do to satisfy that whim of yours as soon as possible, Mrs. Dunlap."
While they were in Eastport, they went to Silvercreek to visit with the Beards. It was a warm and happy reunion; Amelia and Molly rushing out into the yard, hugging Jessica and Kit, exclaiming how wonderful she looked and how the child had grown. Bertram Beard shook Christopher's hand, and the two began a friendly chat. Christopher and Jessica's news of their recent purchase was greeted with jubilation.
"Delightful!" Amelia exclaimed. "Now we can all visit together."
During their short visit, Elizabeth was out at a house party with Lucas. The two were getting along well, Molly confided to Jessica when they had a moment alone. It would seem the girl was at last taking a serious interest in Lucas, and this wasn't just a case of her running to him until the next beau appeared on the scene, or using him to get over her last heartache. As happy as Jessica was for Lucas—after all he'd been waiting so long for Elizabeth to return some of his affection—she felt strangely disquieted at the news. Was it that she was afraid Elizabeth would one day revert to her old tricks, and Lucas would be hurt again?
Molly bubbled over, too, with news that affected her own future. Jeb had asked for her hand, and they would be wed within the month.
"Oh, Molly, I am so happy for you!" Jessica exclaimed. "Pretty happy myself." Molly blushed. "We'll be stayin' on here at the farm, which pleases me, too."
"I wish you every joy." She hugged the older woman. "Both of you."
On their return to New York, Christopher put all his extra energies into moving their building plans forward. With an architect's assistance, he scouted for building materials; hired laborers to break ground, masons and carpenters to begin construction. If all went well, he said, early winter would see them in their new home.
As they sat one evening with their after-dinner coffee, Jessica studied his weary face; knew that as soon as his coffee was finished, he would go to his study to pore through papers until bedtime. "Isn't there something I can help you with?" she questioned.
He glanced up at her. "Help me with what, my love?"
"The building plans. I have time to spare on my hands. While you're busy at the office, surely I could speak to the architect or help you with the paperwork . . . or something."
He grinned. "And what do you know about building?" He said it teasingly.
"Well, admittedly not a lot, but I could learn."
"Thank you for the offer, but it is easier if I take care of it myself, and I should think you'd have plenty to occupy you between Kit and running the house."
"Physically, but not mentally, and Mrs. Hart is so efficient."
"I notice we have been receiving more and more invitations. It seems you have struck up a few friendships with these women—Alfred Harrison's wife, for one. I know she is active in some charities."
"Yes, I was at one of her charity meetings last week. They get together every two weeks to sort and mend used clothing for the poor."
"A worthy endeavor."
"Oh, I don't argue that. Lucy Harrison is a sweet woman, as are most of the others, but they haven't an intellectual thought between them. Or if they do, they certainly keep it to themselves."
Christopher had finished his coffee, and pushed back his chair. "You will have to remember that none of them have had your education. Give it time, my love. You are still adjusting, and I am sure you will shortly be more comfortable with life here." He stepped over and dropped a kiss on her brow. "I will be in my study. See you in bed, my love."
She knew Christopher was right; it would take her time to adapt to this new way of life. But that knowledge didn't ease the vague sense of mental isolation she felt now.
Still, in the weeks that followed, more and more society ladies were paying a brief morning visit to the house on Beaver Street, showing their social acceptance of the Dun-laps, and Jessica's hours were more fully filled. The name Rhea Taylor was never mentioned, although Jessica knew from comments Robert Bayard had passed on that a tight circle of her friends still supported Rhea in her desire to see the Dunlaps ostracized.
This fact alarmed neither Christopher nor Jessica; they did not need Rhea's friends. But every so often, the remarks that Rhea had made on the night of Jessica's social introduction with Christopher flashed through her mind. She tried to force the thoughts away. She could not allow that woman's vindictive words to upset her.That May, in 1816, Jessica discovered she was pregnant. The knowledge brought a satisfied, happy glow that she was sure Christopher would remark on. Yet she held back telling him the news until there was no doubt in her mind about her condition, finally broaching the subject one evening as they lay together in bed, reading.
"Christopher."
"Mmmm. You know that flue construction I was concerned about? I believe I have found the answer here
—a similar plan . . ." The book open before him was an architectural and building guide, and he was immersed in it.
She smiled to herself. "I'm glad we decided on that extra bedroom. We'll be needing it next February."
"Yes . . ."
"When the new baby arrives."
"Yes, new—new what?" He was staring at her, almost afraid to believe what he had heard, or thought he had heard. "Jessica, did you say new baby?"
"I did. I'm pregnant."
"Are you sure?"
"As positive as I can be without having a doctor confirm it."
He threw the book to the floor, gathered her up in his arms. "Oh, my love, that is wonderful, marvelous news. I had been hoping myself that it would not be long before once again . . ." Tenderly he cradled her against his bare chest. "You are feeling all right?"
"As well as can be expected. A bit queasy in the mornings, and tired, but that will pass."
He smiled to himself. "I am dense. It is not like you to doze off on the sofa as you have the last week or so.""You've had a lot on your mind." She leaned back so that she could look up into his eyes. "You are happy? There are so many other things going on right now . . . the house, your business."
"As if any of that could take precedence over our having another child! Of course I am happy; I am delighted." There was a flash of concern in his eyes. "But are you?"
"Completely."
He relaxed. "Good."
"And it's time for Kit to have a sister or brother."
I was afraid myself that he might be lonely, particularly in the country." He drew her back against him and tangled his fingers in the dark hair cascading down her back. "We will have to find a good doctor. Only the best for you, my love."
'I was going to ask Mrs. Hart's advice."
'I will do some investigating myself."
"Though perhaps a midwife would be sufficient. With what I know of medicine, I'm better versed than most of these nineteenth century doctors in diet and exercise."
"I still want you to see a physician." He spoke firmly. "I would not be comfortable otherwise. Yes, I know what you think of the archaic practices of medicine in this century, but we have nothing else to turn to."
'"I have already had a child, Christopher; I know what to expect And you were there with me—as you'll be this time too. There's no need for some strange man to be in at-tendance to tell me what I know perfectly well myself."
"Jessica," he warned.
"A midwife and I will manage everything very well."
"I will not hear of it. You are too precious to me."
"We'll get a reputable woman, of course, a
nd you have to admit a female is better acquainted with childbirth. I would be more comfortable, too."
"There are many very reputable physicians in New York."
She sighed, and in order to pacify the nervous father, at last agreed. "All right, I will see a doctor, but only on an advisory capacity. Don't expect me to heed every dictum if I think it unwise, and don't expect me to let him rule the birth. You may have him near by, but I will not have him interfering."
Despite the seriousness of the discussion, Christopher chuckled. "It would appear I will never be allowed to forget what a modern woman.I have married—and quite literally yanked back into the past."
"I can't forsake the knowledge I've been fortunate enough to acquire."
"No, you cannot, and I love you all the more for it. My stay in your time was so brief in comparison to the whole—I need you to remind me not to be complacent, to think of what I learned and remember how much man can and will achieve. If you will see a physician, I will be sure he does not step beyond your bounds. Then again, he can prescribe whatever vitamin tonics are available, disguised under another name, of course." His hand lifted her hair, and gently he stroked the nape of her neck. "I am going to be a nonconformist, too, in that I do want to be present at the birth of our second child as well."
"I'd hoped you would, Christopher."
"How could I wish otherwise? I would feel I was missing something. This is our child. I want to see it take its first breath of life as much as you." He sighed contentedly. "This news makes our reunion very complete, does it not?"
"Very complete." She ran her hand up the length of his arm, let him draw her down beneath the covers.
Yet later, as they lay warm and satisfied from their tender lovemaking, their old fears came creeping in, and they fell silent. Though neither spoke, each suspected what the other was thinking. Could it happen again? Could they be separated? It had been shortly after Kit's birth that fate had interceded in their happiness. No, life could not repeat itself so terribly, they both prayed separately.
CHAPTER 13
With the birth of their second child to look forward to, Christopher forged ahead on the construction of their home, often traveling to Connecticut through the spring and summer to supervise the masons and carpenters. He wanted his family in their new home when the baby arrived, and would do everything he could to reach that end.
Although it was still too early to begin making purchases toward furnishing and decorating the house, Jessica scouted the shops, making lists of the china, glassware, linens, and drapery fabrics she wanted. Christopher had yet to ask her assistance with any of the building plans, but the preliminary hunting helped her feel she was part of all the excitement. Her journeys from shop to shop filled her afternoon hours, and she'd arrive home satisfyingly weary only a short time before Christopher's own return from the office. When he returned home several times to find her rushing to change before dinner, he commented.
"Jessica, don't you think you are overdoing it a bit? You need your rest."
She laughed. "I feel fine. You know the doctor gave me a clean bill of health, and I've been eating properly and getting plenty of rest. You notice I've been sleeping in of recent mornings."
"Yes. Which is one reason I am concerned. Perhaps you are pushing yourself too much. Mrs. Hart can run some of these errands."
"But I like to get out of the house. I need something to do besides make social visits and oversee household affairs."
"Very well, but I intend to keep a careful eye on you myself. One hint of shadows under the eyes and I will force you into a nap every afternoon, Mrs. Dunlap." He grinned, though she sensed he was quite serious.
She went to him, put her arms around his neck, and ruffled his hair. "You'd better be careful yourself. You're turning into an overprotective father-to-be."
"Do you blame me?"
She pressed her cheek against his chest as he held her close. "No, I suppose not."
Yet Jessica continued her shopping forays. Weeks before, to appease Christopher, she'd made an appointment with one of the most reputable physicians in New York. The doctor had told her nothing she hadn't already known herself.
She knew her own limitations, but in fact couldn't have been in better health. Her morning sickness a thing of the past, her pregnancy troubled her very little except for a voracious appetite, which she resolutely kept in check. She found she needed physical and mental activity.
One exciting event late in June broke up the work schedules of husband and wife—Mawson's wedding. Calm and composed right up to the day of the wedding, Mawson went about his business without letting Christopher's good-natured teasing bother him.
But the morning he was to meet his bride at the lovely little neighborhood church a few blocks away, he fell apart. Jessica noticed his changed state at the breakfast table that morning when the man reached for the salt dish and poured a heaping teaspoon of the stuff into his coffee. She giggled.
"Willis, I would advise you to drink that cautiously." She grinned as the man lifted the cup to his lips.
"Eh?"
"That was salt you just helped yourself to, not sugar."
"You don't say." Bashfully, Mawson set the cup down. Guess I'm a bit fuzzy yet. Your husband kept me up till all hours, carousin'."
"Here, let me get you another cup." Still grinning, Jes-sica went to the sideboard as Christopher picked up on Mawson's comment.
"How else to bid good-bye to the holy state of bachelorhood—a long overdue celebration on your part, I might add. And you know I had you home promptly by midnight. I had to talk you out of a visit to the Ship's Tavern."
"Wanted to drop by to pay my respects to the old crew. Don't know when I'll be stoppin' in that direction again."
"For the sake of your marital happiness, I would suggest it not be for some time, if ever," Christopher laughed.
"Ayuh. Truth in that. Good bunch, but a bit on the wild side."
"An understatement."
"Well," said Mawson, pushing back his chair, "best be gettin' up and readyin' myself."
"Don't you want your coffee?" Jessica slid the fresh cup in front of him.
"Time's gettin' short. Can't have Abbey waitin'."
"You have over three hours to the ceremony!" Christopher tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile. "And I have never known you to waste more than twenty minutes in dressing."
"Still, best check out them new duds. Not used to doin' myself up in all that paraphernalia. Labor in itself."
"You haven't even touched your breakfast, Willis," Jessica pointed out to him as he started to rise.
"Stomach's a touch uneasy this mornin'. Dunlap, you'll come up in a bit and make sure I got my vest on proper?"
"I will, but first I intend to eat a good meal."
"See ya, then." Mawson wandered from the room in a daze.
When he was gone, Christopher laughed outright. "It would appear his Yankee composure has left him at last. I had better keep an eye on him or we will find him arriving at the wrong church at the wrong hour."
"The poor man. I don't remember your getting such an attack of nerves on our wedding day; or else you hid it well."
"If I recall, I was rather calm throughout, except for the marriage license we almost left behind. But then our situation was rather different."
"Yes," she smiled softly, remembering as well as he the very private vows they had exchanged, becoming husband and wife in their own eyes alone, long before circumstances had permitted them to make their marriage legal.
Christopher did manage to get Mawson neatly attired and ready to step out to the waiting carriage exactly twenty minutes before they were to present themselves at the church, Mawson fairly much in possession of his wits except for a last-minute scurry through his room searching for the rings he'd forgotten he'd given to Christopher the day before.
The wedding itself was lovely. Jessica felt tears misting her eyes as Mawson and Abbey said their vows.
There
was no lack of confidence in Mawson's voice now—only strong purpose and a depth of love as he placed the smooth gold band on his bride's finger.
Later they all gathered at the bride's parents' house, the rooms overflowing with people, to refresh themselves with home-cooked delectables and to toast the beaming bride and groom with champagne. Robert Bayard approached Jessica during the festivities, champagne glass in hand, a broad smile on his face.
"Another of our trio of bachelors has met his fate."
"Which means you must be the next."
"Perhaps. The lady of my life, however, has yet to come knocking at my door."
"There must be some fortunate woman in this city."
"Once I had aspirations, but she was taken by another." For an instant his expression grew wistful. "We shall see."
Later, when bride and groom bid their guests good-bye and moved toward the carriage that would carry them to the Hudson dock6 and the schooner that would take them on their honeymoon journey up the Hudson, Mawson paused beside Christopher. The two men quickly embraced.
"Much happiness to you, my friend." Christopher's voice was husky.
"Ayuh, and same to you. Haven't told you before how glad I am for you and Jessica. Fine lady you have there, but you know that."
"I do."
"I'll miss the little one . . . miss you all, in fact. You've been a good friend to me. Won't be forgettin' it."