Mutiny of the Heart

by McDonough, Vickie;

  Heather nodded. She should be amazed that the man owned another home besides this one, but she wasn’t. She’d heard that many people who lived in Charleston had second homes they went to in order to get away from the summer heat and the annoying mosquitoes and gnats that invaded the coastal regions. Suddenly, she realized he’d mentioned his mother. Heather had never considered that Jamie might have grandparents still living. How would Mrs. Reed react to Jamie? Would she embrace him as her grandson or find him a family embarrassment?

  Mr. Reed steepled his fingertips. “How did Deborah die, if I may ask?”

  “From an extended illness. Jamie’s birth was hard on her, and she never quite regained her health.” Died of a broken heart was more like it.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could have helped her.”

  He hung his head, and she truly believed he meant what he said. Perhaps over the years, the man had changed from the scoundrel who’d stolen Deborah’s innocence. But she didn’t want to feel compassion for him. She stared out a nearby window at a line of shrubs covered in brilliant pink flowers. That was something she’d noticed right off on arriving in South Carolina—the abundance of beautiful flowers. And the moss that swung from the trees like lace drying on limbs gave the place a homey feel. So different from Canada, which had barely begun to thaw.

  Mr. Reed tapped his finger on the table. “What do you suppose I should look for in a governess?”

  His rapid topic changes continued to take her by surprise. She dreaded some other woman taking care of Jamie, but there was no helping it. “Someone who is kind and loves children, I suppose. Someone who is patient and will be a good instructor.”

  “That sounds like you.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She turned her head away as her cheeks warmed. She would have to keep her defenses raised to avoid being charmed by this rogue, and keeping Deborah in mind did just the trick. She would have to watch herself so that she, too, wasn’t taken in by the beguiling Lucas Reed.

  “The Madisons will arrive at ten. I thought you’d feel more comfortable having another woman along as we shop for your clothing.”

  “We?” She lifted a brow to him. “Do you normally purchase your servants’ clothing yourself?”

  He grinned wide. “No, but Jamie needs apparel better suited to our warmer climate, too, and I thought we’d go together. There are times I’ll be busy with work and may not see Jamie for a while, so I’d like to spend this day getting to know him.”

  She nodded. “We shall be ready by ten.”

  four

  Heather liked Caroline Madison immediately. At Mr. Reed’s introduction, the lively blond flitted away from her tall, dashing husband and came to stand before her. There were obvious questions in the woman’s gaze, but she was polite enough not to voice them.

  Mr. Reed introduced them all, lightly touching Jamie’s shoulder when he gave the lad’s name: Jamie Reed. At last, Deborah’s son wore the surname that truly belonged to him.

  “Welcome, to Charleston, Miss Hawthorne. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Heather nodded. “And you, too.”

  Mrs. Madison bent toward Jamie and ruffled his hair. “And aren’t you just the spitting image of your father?”

  Jamie’s gaze darted to his father, as if he’d never considered they might resemble each other. Mr. Reed’s bright smile and sparkling eyes led her to believe he was proud of Jamie. Certainly not the reaction she’d expected from a wealthy man whose illegitimate son had suddenly invaded his life. Evidently he’d informed the Madisons of the situation before she and Jamie had come back downstairs. How had he gone about explaining the presence of a five-year-old son he’d never laid eyes on before?

  “Shall we be off?” Mr. Reed reached for a tricorne hat that hung on the hall tree in the entryway and set it on his head.

  “Are we to ride in a carriage, sir?”

  Mr. Reed smiled down at Jamie. “No son, it’s a lovely day and not far, so we shall walk.” The men took the lead with the women and Jamie following. Nearly six feet tall, Mr. Madison stood only a few inches shorter than Mr. Reed. They seemed good friends and carried on a lively conversation.

  “I do have to say Lucas certainly surprised Richard and me upon our arrival when he shared his exciting news with us.” Mrs. Madison glanced down at Jamie. “Besides my husband, Lucas is the most honorable man I know. I cannot believe he’d”—she leaned close to Heather’s ear—“father a child and not marry the mother and raise the boy.”

  Heather clenched her hands together, not caring to talk about the subject. If Mrs. Madison wanted information, she’d need to direct her questions to Mr. Reed. “Have you always lived in Charleston?”

  “No, I was born in Boston. My family moved here when I was only twelve. Father wanted to get away from the cold weather, and we’ve lived here ever since. We do, however, visit our Boston relatives during the heat of the summer. Richard’s family is from here, though. He’s the third generation of Madisons born in this area.”

  They walked several short blocks then crossed a wide street to where a number of vendors were selling their wares. All manner of food was sold in booths and shops. Jamie tugged on her skirt, and Heather looked down.

  “What’s she doing?” He pointed at a dark-skinned woman weaving a basket that looked to be made of straw.

  “Those are sweetgrass baskets,” Mrs. Madison said. “They’re made from marsh grasses that are harvested along the coast.”

  “That’s fascinating. So they braid the grasses into platters and containers?” Heather asked.

  “Not braid. If you look at the unbound grass, you can see that they are just long stems that are secured together with a strip of palm leaf wrapped around them.”

  “The tradition of making the sweetgrass trays and baskets was brought over by slaves from Africa,” Mr. Reed added.

  Jamie leaned against her skirt. “Is that woman a slave?”

  Heather patted his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

  “She probably is, as are the other weavers here.” Mr. Reed gazed down the street and shook his head. “I know most planters rely on slave labor, but I think owning another man is atrocious.”

  Heather stared at the man, surprised that he’d so openly voiced his disgust of slavery, which was a common institution in the South. She’d heard there had been slaves ever since the first ship arrived here. How did Mr. Reed run his plantation without the aid of slaves? Didn’t he mention growing rice? Producing such a crop surely took numerous servants.

  “You see those big platters made from grass, Jamie?” Mr. Madison said. “Those are called fannahs. The fieldworkers place rice in them then toss the rice up into the air and catch it again in the fannah. The air blows away the chaff—the bad parts—and leaves the hull.”

  “Oh.” Jamie studied the trays with woven handles on each end as if trying to visualize the process.

  Mr. Reed patted Jamie’s head. “You’ll get to see it done when we go to the plantation.”

  “Can I try it?”

  Mr. Reed grinned. “That’s a splendid idea. You’ll need to learn every aspect of plantation work if you’re going to run Reed Springs one day.”

  “Truly?” Jamie’s eyes widened as he stared up at his father.

  Heather’s heart jolted. Surely the man wasn’t thinking in such a direction already. Why, he’d only met Jamie yesterday. She didn’t want him falsely raising the lad’s hopes. Someday Lucas Reed would marry. In fact, she was surprised that he didn’t already have a wife, and that wife—once he did acquire one—would expect her son to inherit the Reed properties, not her husband’s illegitimate child.

  “Well, I hope for my sake that isn’t anytime soon.” Mr. Reed chuckled. “Are you ready to go see a couple of my ships, son?”

  “Aye, sir. I am.”

  “Might I broach a suggestion?” Mrs. Madison stepped forward. “We care as little for the roughness of the dock area as I’m sure you do for a dressmaker’s shop. Why don’t you
menfolk visit the docks while I take Miss Hawthorne to purchase what she needs? Then we can meet up and see to Jamie’s clothing.”

  Mr. Reed’s gaze collided with Heather’s, and her pulse shot forward like a startled horse. “Would that be agreeable with you?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Aye. There is no sense in you men having to wait around for us.” Not to mention she’d be terribly embarrassed to purchase clothing with them watching.

  “So you don’t mind if Jamie goes along with us?”

  Her heart somersaulted at the thought of parting with the boy. “I’d thought to take him with us,” she said.

  “But I want to see the ships.” Jamie’s pleading gaze bored into hers.

  She almost shook her head. Only a day ago, he’d been anxious to get off the ship that brought them to Charleston, and now he longed to see one again. Fickle boy. The truth be told, it was too soon for her to be separated from him. Yet he needed to gradually get used to the idea, and she needed to know she could trust Lucas Reed with Jamie’s well-being. This was a perfect opportunity for a short parting. “Aye, ‘tis fine with me if you go with your father, but be sure that you obey him.”

  “I will.” Jamie bounced on his toes and clapped his hands, making his father smile.

  Mr. Reed reached down and took Jamie’s hand. “Shall we meet up at McCrady’s at noon?”

  Mrs. Madison nodded. “Noon should be perfect.”

  Mr. Reed grinned, warming Heather’s insides. He looked down at Jamie. “Shall we be off then?”

  She watched the men cross the street, and on the other side, Lucas Reed stooped down and said something to Jamie. The lad nodded, and his father hoisted him up into his arms. Jamie looped one arm around Mr. Reed’s neck then turned back and grinned at Heather and waved.

  “They’re getting along famously, aren’t they?”

  “Aye.” Almost too well. As much as she wanted Jamie and his father to have a good relationship, Heather dreaded seeing him distance himself from her, but it had to be. Once Mr. Reed hired another governess, she’d be on her way back to Canada.

  “And it’s kind of Lucas to be so concerned with your feelings.”

  Heather glanced sideways at the woman. “What do you mean?”

  Mrs. Madison giggled and waved her hand in the air. “Nothing actually. It’s just that most men in Lucas’s situation wouldn’t ask if it was all right with the governess to take his own son somewhere.”

  Heather winced. Though the words were spoken casually, she felt rightly put in her place. She may have been the one to raise Jamie and bring him here, but she was just the hired help now. Then why had Mrs. Madison taken it upon herself to escort her to the dressmaker’s shop instead of letting Mr. Reed’s housekeeper do that?

  Two hours later, Heather’s legs ached. She had stood still while the dressmaker measured her, had tried on several readymade items that the woman had in stock, as well as stood in front of a mirror while the other two women decided which colors looked best on her. The result was two fancy silk gowns for evening wear, one green with a gold-striped petticoat and the other a lovely lavender with soft blue accents. The three day dresses made of lightweight linen would feel much more comfortable in the heat of the afternoon, but what excited Heather the most was the new drawers, chemise, stockings, and petticoats. She hadn’t had any new undergarments other than those she’d sewn herself from rough fabrics since she left England. If only she didn’t have to wait until the dressmaker made them. At least she’d be able to wear the one readymade day dress that was to be delivered to Mr. Reed’s house later this afternoon.

  “I especially liked how you looked in that dark green gown. It goes well with your coloring.” Mrs. Madison waved her lovely silk fan in front of her face. “You will love the linen fabric. It’s less formal but necessary here and much cooler than wool.”

  Heather struggled to keep up with the taller woman’s longer stride. “I think you purchased far too many outfits. I could have easily made do with less.”

  “Fiddlesticks. If you hadn’t been so persuasive, I’d have ordered more garments. Lucas said to be sure you had all you needed.”

  “I’m only going to be here until he hires another governess. Perhaps if he employs someone close to me in size, she will be able to use the same clothing. I’ve little need of lightweight dresses in Canada.”

  “Who knows?” The woman waved her hand in the air and dashed across the street. Then slowing her steps, she peered over her shoulder. “Perhaps you will be here longer than you think.”

  Heather hurried, not wanting to be left behind. She fell in behind Mrs. Madison to allow a man and his wife to pass, then hurried back to her side. “Why do you say that?”

  Mrs. Madison shrugged. “Just a hunch, my dear. You’re the best person to raise Jamie. You’ve been with him all his life, is that not correct?”

  Heather nodded. “Aye, ‘tis true.”

  “Well, then how could another woman be better than you?”

  Heather’s heart soared then plummeted like a quail spooked from the grass and shot from the sky. She’d love to be there for Jamie, but how could she stay in this country she so despised? Her family had lost everything because of the colonists’ bid for freedom.

  She contemplated the woman’s words as they continued down the street past a silver shop where fine quality cups, platters, and jewelry were displayed in a window. The hammer of a cobbler reached her ears as they walked past his open door. A young boy stood in front of a printer’s shop, hawking papers. Charleston certainly was a busy place.

  Could she live in this country and put aside her feelings for Jamie’s sake? She’d never considered that could be an option and wasn’t sure now that it was, but so far the people she’d met had been more than kind and receiving, not the rebellious troublemakers she’d half expected to encounter.

  “Ah, there’s McCrady’s now. I hope the men are already there. I’m famished.”

  One thing was for certain, Heather would have to think long and hard before making a decision to stay in America—if Lucas Reed even asked her to.

  Lucas couldn’t remember a more enjoyable morning. Jamie had tossed questions at him faster than a clipper could speed across the ocean at full sail. The boy was smart, curious, and well behaved.

  “How many ships can you build in a year?” Jamie asked. “Well now, that depends on any number of things. The weather for one. Also, the availability of skilled workmen.”

  “Perhaps I’ll be a shipbuilder when I grow up.”

  Lucas caught Richard’s amused glance and smiled.

  “Maybe you will, son.” He ruffled Jamie’s hair then recaptured his hand. The child seemed to trust him totally and had expressed no fear being away from Miss Hawthorne, even though well over an hour had passed.

  “I have to say, I don’t believe I’ve seen you looking happier, Lucas, than you have today.” Richard nodded.

  “I am happy.” Warmth flooded Lucas’s chest. With Jamie’s arrival, he realized how lonely he’d been. How much he’d wanted a family but had been afraid of pursuing a woman. What if his brother found out about her and decided to purloin her as he had Deborah? He clenched his fist. Marcus would have to get past him first.

  “I hope you realize what a blessing from God the boy is.”

  Lucas relaxed his fist. “I surely do. I can’t help thinking over and over how much he will change my life.”

  Richard cleared his throat and leaned a bit closer as they strode down the street. “I don’t suppose I need to tell you that there are likely to be repercussions. While I, for one, think it’s an honorable thing you’ve done, some people will look down on you for taking in the boy or for not marrying his mother when you learned she was with child.”

  Skirting a pile of manure in the street, Lucas cast his friend a quick glance. “I never knew about him until he and Miss Hawthorne arrived at my door.”

  “Well, it’s hard to believe you didn’t expect the possibility of a ch
ild when …” Richard waved his hand in the air. “You know.”

  Lucas clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re my closest friend, Richard, but there are things even you don’t know. I’m asking you to trust me on this, and I hope I have your support whatever the result may be.”

  “Of course you have it, and don’t feel you have to explain things to me. What man doesn’t harbor a few secrets?”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your friendship. Even though I’ve only known you a few years, I feel closer to you than many people I’ve known all my life.”

  Richard swatted a fly away from his face. “When a man becomes a believer in Christ, he becomes part of the family of God. We’re more than friends; we’re brothers.”

  Lucas smiled. It was true. He thought of his friends who were Christians and knew that he was close to them in a way he wasn’t with unbelievers. Now that he was a father, he’d need to teach Jamie about the Lord. He’d better read up on what the Bible had to say about children. A verse from Proverbs popped into his mind: “Correct thy son, and he shall give thee rest; yea, he shall give delight unto thy soul.”

  His father had certainly taken pleasure in quoting verses on disciplining children, although it hadn’t helped Marcus. Lucas had come to resent the quotes, too, because they often occurred before a punishment. Could that, perchance, be the reason he hadn’t become a believer in God until well into his manhood?

  “Fresh fish fer sale. Oysters, lobsters, and the like.”

  Jamie stopped and watched the near-toothless hawker. “He looks like Mr. Simons from back home.”

  “Does he now?” Lucas patted his son’s head. How long would it take before Jamie called Charleston home?

  “Aye, but Mr. Simons has teeth. Big ones.”

  Lucas chuckled at how Jamie widened his eyes when he’d said big. “And what type of work did that man do?”

  Jamie shrugged. “Don’t know. He just came around a lot, wanting to talk to Aunt Heather.” His brow crinkled. “I don’t think she liked it when he visited.”