Pattern for Romance: Quilts of Love Series

by Carla J Gade

  How could she ever reconcile his love for Emily with her own desire for him to return her feelings of ardor. What kind of man would profess his affection to a married woman with his lustful kiss? How unlike the Joshua she had come to know and admire.

  The light in Joshua’s bright blue eyes pierced through her unwelcome contemplations. “How pleasant it is to enjoy one’s company, even with thoughts unspoken.”

  She wanted only to cherish this time spent with him in this splendid setting. This day she intended to consider his anticipated request of courtship, though she remained uncertain. “I find it pleasant indeed. It has proved to be a lovely day.”

  “A lovely day for a lovely lady,” he said.

  She smiled beneath the shade of her wide-brimmed Bergère hat. “Your mother’s gardens are magnificent.”

  “Yes, they are her pride and joy.”

  “My mother had a beautiful garden, but not so carefully plotted out. She had an herb garden, and her flowers all grew together in a riot of blooms. Quite different, but lovely all the same. She enjoyed spending time tending it, as I see your mother does.” Honour paused her steps and pointed to some leafy plants. “I do not recognize those plants.”

  “That is loosestrife, and there is hyperion. They are for Mother’s Liberty teas.”

  “Mmm. She served me some while under her care.”

  “Did Mother also serve you a course in her ideals as a Daughter of Liberty?”

  “Aye, she did. I enjoyed listening to her perspective. My family sympathized with your plight in the colonies, thus being partly why we removed to America.”

  The sun caught the highlights of Joshua’s ash-brown hair, so neatly gathered into its tie. “May I ask how these sentiments transpired?”

  “It is a mystery. My father used to receive anonymous packets with American newspapers and handbills. At first, he thought it ridiculous, but after time he was won over. He used to read them aloud to our family, but only at my begging.” Honour proffered a pert grin. “I found the ideas quite revolutionary.”

  “Ah, a progressive thinker.”

  “I see no reason the colonies should be subjected to tyranny,” Honour said. “Mrs. Wadsworth has explained to me the unjust hold the king has on the economy, as it affects business owners like herself. I’ve often wondered how it might have affected my father’s business ventures. He was taking a great risk.”

  “He was, and I admire him for it,” Joshua said as they continued along. “Sutton’s has suffered considerably since the Revenue Acts were implemented. But we do what we must for the greater good, such as supplying local textiles and tailoring homespun.” Joshua leaned closer. “I dare say some of the ladies in town dreadfully miss their imported chintzes and silks.”

  Honour laughed. “I must agree. But I give the majority of ladies credit for their commitment to the cause of liberty.”

  Joshua’s eyebrow arched and his mouth curved into an attractive grin. Was he impressed with her views? Or that she dared to speak of them? “Enough about politics. ’Tis too fine a day for dreary thoughts.”

  “I find them inspiring,” she said, halting.

  Joshua toyed with the single curl draping over her shoulder. “As I find you.”

  Honour lowered her lashes, then glanced up demurely.

  He took Honour’s hand in his. “You must be fatigued. Come.” He led her to the arbor where the cooing of doves from the nearby dovecote filled the air. “Honour—I must confess, there is something weighing heavily on my mind. Something you must know, since you are now well. Please sit with me.”

  Her heart quickened. Was he to tell her about his feelings for Emily? Would he tell her he was mistaken in his love for Emily and his heart only belonged to her?

  Then she noted the concern etching his brow, she longed to smooth it away. “It cannot be all that worrisome.”

  “It concerns your sister,” he said.

  “Temperance?” Honour squinted with confusion.

  “Her schooling.” Joshua pushed his hair away from his face. “You see, when I was taking her to Mrs. Hollister’s the woman confronted me with the matter of your outstanding debt.”

  “Which I intend to pay once her dame school resumes,” she said with a defensive lilt.

  “Temperance will not be attending Mrs. Hollister’s dame school anymore.”

  “Why ever not?”

  Joshua stood and paced a few steps away. He faced her again. “She has not been attending school for the past fortnight.”

  Honour attempted to stand, but Joshua stayed her with his hand. “Why was I not informed? How did this come about?”

  “You were far too ill to concern you with it at the time,” he said.

  She squeezed her hands in her lap. “But I am fine now.”

  “Thus the reason I can tell you about it. I could not allow another day to go by keeping you in the dark.”

  “By all means, enlighten me.” Honour pushed back her wide brim, staring into his face.

  “You see, Mrs. Hollister was not only concerned about being paid, but she had learned about the accusation of stealing from Mrs. Carter.” He winced as if regretting this disclosure.

  Honour’s lips parted, but she spoke not.

  Joshua continued. “A few of the parents were threatening to dismiss their children from her school.”

  “That is preposterous. I did nothing wrong!” she whined.

  “I know that. I tried to convince her of it, Honour, truly I did. But when Tempe was mistreated by the other children—”

  “Mistreated? What happened?” She clamped down on her lower lip.

  Joshua sat again. “They teased her mercilessly. A boy even accused her of stealing one day when she picked up his sister’s handkerchief for her. Mrs. Hollister was disciplining Tempe in the corner when I arrived. While I was settling the debt, the children assaulted Tempe with their teasing again. I found her in tears and immediately put a stop to it.”

  Honour’s palms flew to her cheeks, her eyes glistened with tears threatening to spill.

  Joshua blew out a deep breath. “She has not been back since.”

  At last she spoke. “Poor Tempe . . . I cannot believe I was not available to comfort her or deal with this dreadful situation myself.”

  “I did what I could in your stead.” The muscles in Johsua’s jaw pulsed.

  Honour stood. “You paid my debt. You took my sister out of school without telling me.” She stepped away, spun back around. “Who else has been keeping this secret? Everyone, mayhap! I do not teach my sister to lie, and I abhor that you required her to do so.” Honour stomped her foot. A twinge of pain pricked her abdomen, her hand protectively covered the spot.

  Joshua stood and escorted her back to the bench. “Here, sit.”

  She reluctantly acquiesced.

  “We thought it best to withhold the knowledge from you given the gravity of your health.” He raked his hand back through his hair. “Honour, you almost died.”

  The intensity in his face almost made her believe he truly cared. But she felt betrayed, deceived, abused, and knew not what to think. She cupped her cheek, shaking her head in dismay. “Now I must make new arrangements for her schooling, find someone else to barter with. If I can locate another school mistress in need of quilting.

  “Joshua, my debt to you has now increased and I don’t know how I shall ever repay it. Yet, upon my honor, I shall.” Her voice became raspy. “My honor. As if that holds significance.”

  He knelt by her side. “It does, and you do.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. Yet his ardent profession continued. “Honour, you owe me no debt. I am a man of some means, and it has pleased me to help you in small ways. I detested seeing Tempe mistreated. I am quite fond of her . . . and even more so of you.”

  “It is no small thing to me to provide for her.” She looked down at her lap to regain her composure, but the wealth of her turmoil erupted most unbecomingly, too fatigued to restrain it. “I do not bel
ieve this is how one treats someone whom they are fond of, Mr. Sutton. Your skills in this regard are most lacking.”

  Honour rose and Joshua followed suit. He looked down at her with intensity, his blue eyes a storm of emotion.

  Her lips parted as she took shallow breaths, and allowed her eyes to close for a single moment. As she opened them again, Joshua’s lips hovered above her mouth . . . and she . . . blurted out, “Even Emily Leach would agree.”

  Joshua snapped back his head, palm pressing against his forehead. “What does Emily have to do with this?”

  Honour bit her lip and released a diminutive breath through her nose. “I am referring to your disrespect toward the weaker sex. You have taken advantage of our vulnerabilities. I have seen it with my own eyes.”

  “Seen what?”

  She stiffened her resolve. “I do not have the liberty to say.”

  “So much for your sublime ideals,” he protested.

  “I have taken an oath of confidentiality,” she said.

  “This conversation is preposterous. I only intended to inform you of what I had done on your behalf, out of my sincere—”

  Three giggling girls came running toward them. “It is time for cake!”

  Honour frowned apologetically at Tempe. “I’m afraid there will be no cake for me. I am feeling rather poorly.”

  “As am I, but I shall not disappoint my guests.” Joshua marched off, but turned back and said, “I will have Redmond bring you home when we are through, Miss Metcalf.”

  As Honour watched Joshua and the girls walk back to the canopy, a shower of tears sprang forth. She hadn’t expected her courtship to begin and end in the same moment.

  Joshua took long strides across the lawn. He should have never left Honour in the garden. But as he approached the arbor he heard his brother’s voice, accosting her with sarcasm.

  “I find you here in tears, a tiny willow, weeping,” Andrew said, leaning against the wooden structure.

  “Leave her be!” Joshua called forth.

  Heart to his chest, Andrew feigned compliance. “I would never intrude on your ladylove, though you have staked no claim on her. A nasty habit you have.”

  Joshua perused his mean-spirited brother’s disheveled state. He caught Honour’s attention as their eyes met. “Please ignore the shabaroon. He apparently began his own celebration at the tavern this morning.”

  Andrew cocked his head back. “I heard the news of your shares.”

  “You shall receive yours in due time, you’ve only two years more until you reach your majority,” Joshua said.

  “In the meantime, will you get all I desire?” Andrew gawked at Honour as he hovered over her.

  The pulse in Joshua’s temple throbbed. “What has gotten into you, man?”

  Andrew pulled a blade from his frock. He inspected it from each side as it glinted in the sun. He touched the sharp point with his fingertip, piercing his skin.

  A small drip of blood streamed down his finger.

  “What . . . are you mad?” Joshua stepped forward.

  Andrew pointed the blade at Joshua, halting him. “No, forgetful. I did not yet give you your present. It is your birthday, is it not?”

  Andrew stared at the knife a moment longer with glazed eyes then handed it to Joshua, the tip stained in crimson. “Go ahead, take it. You have wounded my heart and now you shall have my blood, as well.”

  Joshua clenched his jaw and released a tight breath. “I know not what the meaning of this is, but we will settle the matter another time. Not in the presence of Miss Metcalf.”

  “She is privy to my secrets already. What is the harm?” Andrew sneered.

  Joshua’s head spun toward Honour, a mass of confusion crossing her strained face.

  “She weeps for you,” Andrew condescended. “As do all the young maidens, save one. Yet, you’ve managed to ruin her, too.”

  “I don’t know what you speak of. Go, Andrew. We will discuss this later. I’m going to see Honour home.”

  “Yes, you do that, brother,” Andrew said and he trailed his finger across her chin.

  She turned away.

  “Move away from her!” Joshua stepped closer. He needed to get her away from here. Away from him.

  But as Joshua approached, horror crossed her face. “Joshua, look out!”

  Joshua twisted around as Andrew slammed into his chest. The intensity almost knocked the wind out of Joshua, but he girded himself for the fight.

  Joshua pulled back with force, but Andrew lurched forward and grabbed the knife.

  Their bodies locked, and Joshua thrust the knife in Andrew’s fist downward.

  Honour sprung toward them screaming, “No, stop! Stop!”

  “Get back, Honour!” Joshua panted, throwing back his arm, attempting to shield her. But Andrew was unrelenting and came at him.

  Honour grabbed Andrew’s sleeve.

  Andrew’s elbow jammed up.

  Joshua rammed into his brother with a swift blow, crushing him into a bed of sage.

  Andrew stumbled up, but Joshua held him back with tight fists, Andrew’s strength waning. His brother’s face paled and contorted as he stared past Joshua.

  Joshua spun around, and beheld Honour lying on the ground—the knife at her side, a smear of scarlet staining her gown.

  A myriad of faces hovering over her awakened Honour out of her slumber. The images dissipated as her eyes grew accustomed to the bright moonlight streaming into the room. She intuitively looked toward the window at the cry of the night watchman in the street below, outside Mrs. Wadsworth’s shop. “Four o’clock, and all’s well.”

  But all was not well. She felt completely out of sorts.

  Honour clutched the quilted counterpane, the weight and texture of it bringing assurance she was no longer dreaming. The dream, a remembrance from the afternoon at the Suttons. She’d been knocked to the ground. Or had she fainted? Either way, she was lying on the ground looking up at the concerned onlookers gathered around her. Upon sitting up, Tempe had clung to her with all her might, crying inconsolably. Joshua and his father helped her to her feet, worry etched deep into their brows.

  “We thought we’d near lost you again,” Mr. Sutton said. “Thought you’d been stabbed a second time.”

  It had taken a few moments to realize what he referred to, but then she recalled the knife, the fight.

  Joshua took steps back, as Deborah and Mrs. Wadsworth tended to Honour. Aye, all was well . . . save her broken heart. And Joshua’s.

  She failed at romance, failed at providing for her sister. She failed her parents.

  Tempe’s soft breathing as she lay by Honour’s side continued to bring sobering thoughts. What would become of her if Honour had met her demise? She should be grateful people cared enough to protect and provide for Tempe and her when she could not. People like Mrs. Wadsworth, the Suttons, Joshua.

  Honour’s finger traced the familiar pattern of the quilt so imbedded in her memory. Thoughts of Mum’s instruction to her children to heed God’s Word for direction in their lives made her want to remain under the comfort of her mother’s quilt forever. But it was not to be. What she could do, is follow her advice. Honor her.

  Tempe stirred, and Honour stroked her hair with feather light touches. She pondered the lessons that Tempe learnt in school, her lessons of the commandments.

  Honour thy father and mother; that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.

  That was God’s promise to her even now. Thank you, Lord. You heard my prayer before I uttered it. Aye, you heard my heart.

  Honour breathed a deep sigh, and tucked the quilt under her chin. She would honor their parents, by loving and providing for Temperance. It would be her focus, as purposeful as every stitch in her mother’s quilt. As for her bridal quilt, it was long gone, and so were her selfish notions of romance. There was no room in her life for it, nor for Joshua Sutton.

  12

  Joshua picked up the needle case
from his chest of drawers, rubbing the grain of the carved fish scales. ’Twas no small gift he received from Honour and Temperance. Any expenditure was surely a sacrifice from Honour’s meager savings. He pulled the cod’s head off the wooden trinket. It was a fine case for his bodkins and he would cherish it—especially now.

  He looked inside the hollow container and there he found a slip of foolscap with something scrawled on it.

  Inside this fish, an answer find. Have your wish, love is blind.

  He read it again. This message, Honour had intended to let him court her. She loved him? She loved him.

  Until Saturday.

  Joshua groaned. He set the needle case down and read the lines again. He pounded his clenched fist down on his high dresser. Everything was in a royal state. From Honour’s anger about his interference in her personal matters, to Andrew’s drunken diatribe, to Emily’s influence over it all. Though he highly doubted Emily had any indication of the hold she still had on his life.

  She needed to know. Rather, he needed her to know. Apparently, she was the one who held the key to the mystery of his ruined relationships. How had she become so entangled in his affairs?

  Joshua threw his banyan robe onto his bed, and grabbed a fresh shirt from a drawer. With haste, he tucked the muslin into his breeches, resolving to decipher the riddle this very day. His sanity depended on it.

  Foregoing his breakfast, Joshua set to his mission. A short time later, he found himself stomping down the steps of the Leach brownstone without answers. “The mistress is not home at present. She is out making morning calls,” the Leach butler informed him. Must he chase Mrs. Leach all over town? Perhaps Emily was visiting her parents, or her Aunt Eunice. To Mrs. Lankton’s he’d go.

  The long walk did him good, gave him a chance to cool down. The faint scent of the salt breeze drifting off the harbor filled his nostrils. The day was fine with a hint of autumn color embellishing some of the ivy clinging to brick buildings and wrought iron fences.