“They are still not telling us everything, and it has been over three weeks. We have given them no reason not to trust us. I’m just not ready to accept them with no reservations like you.”
“They are children, eight and twelve. I don’t agree with stealing, but they needed food.” She moved closer and lowered her voice. “Have you ever thought perhaps they sense you don’t accept them totally? If we want them to trust us, we must trust them.”
“You have not lost any of your naïvety.”
She settled her hand on her waist. “At least I don’t try to hide from life.”
“If I were hiding from life, I would be at my cabin right now. Not here for my sister’s party.” He turned on his heel and strode toward the front hall.
Rachel stomped after him, intending to continue the conversation.
Nathan came to an abrupt halt, the sound of male voices—familiar ones—drifting to Rachel. She stopped at his side and stared at Sarah hugging their brother then their grandfather. Rachel backed away a few feet. The last she had heard from Sarah only Patrick Stuart was attending the party.
The old man peered across the foyer, his sharp gaze skimming over Nathan and landing on her. His mouth compressed into a scowl, and he stepped toward his granddaughter and said something to her that Rachel could not hear. Then he put his top hat back on his head and stormed out the front door.
“I will talk to him, Sarah,” Mr. Stuart said then hurried after his grandfather.
Nathan closed the space to his sister. “We have decided to leave.”
“We have not decided that,” Rachel said, giving Sarah a hug.
Nathan glared at her. “I don’t want to ruin my sister’s party.”
“I know you will not do that.” Sarah walked to a window that afforded a view of the front lawn. “ ’Tis about time you two mend this rift between you. Patrick and I are tired of this feud. We want our family back.”
“Then you tell him that.”
“I will.”
“You think Patrick can talk him into staying?” Nathan shook his head. “He will not stay.”
“Don’t be too sure of that. Patrick and Grandfather are coming back to the house.” Sarah shifted away from the window.
Rachel glanced around for a place to disappear. But then the front door swung open again, and both men entered the house. Anger carved hard planes into the older man’s face. Who was he more upset with, her or Nathan?
“The only reason I am staying is because my grandson refuses to leave and take me home. I would walk, but my gout has been acting up lately.”
“Then ’tis good that Nathan is here. He can give you something for it.” Sarah smiled and slipped her arm through her grandfather’s. “Mr. Baker is here and so are Mr. and Mrs. Grayson, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun. We will have a merry time.”
Although Sarah’s voice was full of gaiety, the corners of her mouth twitched as if it were hard to maintain her grin. Rachel couldn’t even muster a smile. Her heart thudded in her chest. The constriction about her torso made breathing difficult.
As the trio entered the parlor, Nathan rotated toward her. “We can leave if you want.”
“This might be the time you and your grandfather can make amends. You certainly will not go to Pinecrest. I see your sister and brother’s reasoning behind getting you two here together for the celebration.”
“That is not what I asked you. Do you want to stay?”
“Being born English is not a crime. I have been looking forward to this party for weeks. I want to stay.”
“Then we will, but after my last visit to Pinecrest, I have come to realize my grandfather does not want to make amends, so I have no illusions it will ever happen.”
“That does not stop you from telling him you forgive him for what happened five years ago—whatever led to your fight with him.”
“But I don’t. I thought I had, but I’m discovering I really haven’t. He is responsible for Eliza and her child’s death as much as I am.”
Another group of people arrived in the foyer. Rachel pulled Nathan toward the library and closed the door. “You did what you could. I know you. There was nothing else you could have done under the circumstances. Forgive yourself then your grandfather. Have you ever considered he is a hurting man? He lost people he cared about because of the war with England. That doesn’t mean I condone his hating every Englishman or woman, but that hatred has been eating at him for years. Perhaps you should make the first move. Free yourself. Hatred and anger are poisons.” She listened to her own words and wondered if she would ever be able to do the same with Tom.
“So I’m supposed to march in there and tell him I forgive him. Then all will be well.”
“No. First you have to mean it. If you do, then at least you have done what you can. You are not responsible for his feelings. Only yours.”
A tic twitched in his jaw. “Have you forgiven your husband?”
The question iced her veins. “We are not talking about me. My husband is dead. I don’t have to spend time with him anymore.”
“How convenient for you. Because he is no longer around, you don’t have to follow your own advice.”
The sarcasm in his voice hit its mark, piercing through her heart and bringing forth all the pain that Tom had caused in their short marriage. And the guilt because she could not forgive him.
“If he were standing right here in front of you instead of me, would you be able to tell him you forgive him for his abuse, for leaving you stranded in a strange country with little means of support?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came to mind. All she could focus on was the palpable fury emitting from Nathan.
“That’s what I thought. You cannot, any more than I can. I tried several times and had it thrown back in my face. I will not try again. I did everything my grandfather wanted and that was not enough for him. In a short time after my father’s death, he pulled the family apart. We should have come closer together in our sorrow.”
“I know what it is like to have a rift in the family. I wish my circumstances were different, but I forgave my father on the voyage over to America. That doesn’t mean I am not hurt by his actions and pride, but I do not hate him.”
“Then sell the farm and go back to England.”
“I cannot. When I left, Papa said that my husband and I would not amount to anything. That I would come back begging for help, and he would not give it. I needed to make the choice, family or Tom. I could not have both.”
“That doesn’t sound like you forgave him.”
“I have forgiven him, but I have not forgotten what he said. Going back, begging for help, is not the way I will return to England. I will make something of this situation given to me. Then I will consider returning to England.”
“So this is temporary.”
“South Carolina is not my home. England is.”
“I see.” Nathan strode toward the door and opened it.
Rachel shivered at the sight of the coldness in his expression. “Where are you going?”
“To join this little celebration. Is that not why we came today?” He left Rachel alone. The click of the door closing resounded through the room with finality.
Rachel eased onto a chair, holding herself rigid for a moment before the effort was too much, and she sank against its back. In spite of what her father had done, she still loved him and hoped one day to return to Mansfield Manor, to visit at least. She wanted Faith to get to know her family. The economy in South Carolina was finally starting to improve after the recent war. If she could make the farm successful, she could sell it for enough money to allow her to return to England and establish herself without depending on her family. But what would happen to that plan if Nathan walked away right now? She still had much to learn. She wished she didn’t have to depend on him, but she did. She was realistic enough to know she couldn’t run the farm without Nathan, at least not yet.
“The Nathan I know loves to
dance. Why are you over here holding up the wall? Have you not seen all the ladies eyeing you?” Grinning, Patrick raised his glass. “Here is to you and Grandfather. You have not killed each other yet.”
“Should you not be dancing with all those ladies? Or have you given up finding a wife as Grandfather wishes?” Nathan peered at Rachel laughing at something Mr. Baker said. And then there was Mr. Chester hanging on her every word.
Patrick’s expression became serious. “She will not approach you. You will have to approach her.”
“Who is ‘she’?” Nathan asked while his gaze stayed glued to Rachel, now going out on the floor with Mr. Peterson.
“You know who I am referring to.” Patrick glanced over his shoulder at Rachel. “Ask her to dance. You have barely said two words to each other since your arrival.”
“It looks like she has enough partners to keep her busy for a while.”
Patrick studied him for a long moment. “You are jealous.”
“No, I am not.”
His brother waved his hand. “You can protest all you want, but I don’t believe it.”
Nathan needed the subject of their conversation to change. He didn’t intend to discuss Rachel with anyone. They all assumed the reason he was helping her was because he was interested in her. They were wrong. He cared for her, of course, but he felt obligated to see her settled. That was all. Then he would go about his life as he had before she disrupted it.
“What did you and Sarah think you were going to accomplish with this little reunion between me and Grandfather?”
“Just that, a reunion. We want our family back together.”
“We cannot go back to the way things were. Too much has happened for that to ever occur.”
“He will not be around much longer. Since you were at the plantation last, he recovered, but he has yet to get his former strength back. Lately his gout has been giving him a lot of problems too. So much so, he has turned over most of the running of the plantation to me.”
“He must not be doing well. Why didn’t you come get me?”
Patrick’s eyebrows rose. “You would have come to Pinecrest after what Grandfather did the last time you were there? Demanding Rachel and her maid leave?”
“I would have tried. You know I would have.”
“Yes, you would have, and he probably would have thrown you off the plantation again. He cannot throw you off this plantation. Try to see him before he leaves tomorrow.”
“I do not expect it to work, but I will see him.”
“Thank you.” Patrick inclined his head.
“In spite of what has happened in the past, I still love him. He is the one I followed around on the plantation. I wanted to grow up to be like him until I realized I did not love the same things he did. But I tried. I was willing to run Pinecrest and still be a doctor. There are other planters who are doctors.”
“What is stopping you from being a doctor now?”
Memories I cannot shake. Screams of men in pain. Sounds of cannon fire, which only signaled more wounded who would be brought to me. The sight of desperation in the men’s faces, wanting to live but knowing they were not going to make it through the night. And worse, the look on the English soldier’s face when I killed him. “I am tired of losing my patients.” Tired of being haunted by the memories.
“How about the ones you have helped? Rachel. Grandfather. And that has only been recently.”
“When I trained to be a doctor, I had visions of helping others. Curing them. Easing their pain. I know that it was not realistic, but during the yellow fever epidemic, I thought I could do something to keep everyone from dying just because I wanted to.” Nathan laughed, but there was no merriment in the sound. “I have accused Rachel of being naïve, but I am as bad as she is.”
“You two have a lot in common.”
“Patrick,” Nathan said with a frown.
“I know. She is not to be discussed. I will leave you to contemplate your future. I see Anne is free, finally. At least this Stuart is going to dance.”
As his brother slipped through the people on the dance floor to approach the daughter of a neighbor, Nathan scanned the room for Rachel and found her participating in a reel with a son of a prominent merchant in Charleston. For a moment her gaze zeroed in on him, holding his full attention, until she swung away and was lost in the crowd.
Nathan then searched the large parlor, which had been cleared of some of its furniture to make an area for dancing. When he glimpsed his grandfather by the entrance alone, a grimace on his face, Nathan sighed. Perhaps it was the right time to approach him and see how he was. The ashen tint to his face worried him. From his pallor it appeared he was not spending any time outdoors, which was not like him whatsoever.
Nathan started toward his grandfather and saw him twist about and, using his cane, limp out into the foyer. Nathan followed him down the hallway to the library. As his grandfather entered the room and shut the door, Nathan hung back, not sure of the wisdom of bothering him when it was obvious he wanted to be alone. He and his grandfather had always liked their solitude, not like Patrick or Sarah. He could respect that. Perhaps he should talk with him tomorrow, before he returned to the farm.
Nathan hesitated. A niggling in the back of his mind prompted him to make his way to the library. Grandfather had not looked good. He had noticed his hair was damp. Had a fever returned? He had not been coughing, but still…
“Nathan, is your grandfather all right?” Rachel asked behind him.
Pivoting toward her, he noted the flush to her cheeks, the concern in her eyes. Sarah’s lavender gown fit Rachel perfectly after a few alterations, which she had done the evening before. The color heightened her beauty even more, and the short sleeves and scooped neckline emphasized her femininity. This was his opportunity to ask her to dance.
“I am not sure. He didn’t look well. I was going to check on him. For the past half hour he has been standing off by himself. That is most unusual for him at a party like this.”
“Then I will not keep you. I hope he is fine.”
“You can say that after he threw you off his land?”
She tilted her head. “Yes. I don’t want any harm to come to him. He is your grandfather. I don’t agree with his blanket hatred of anyone English, but I can see his side. He lost two very important people in the Revolutionary War. Losing a child would be the worst tragedy. I know that since I have had Faith.”
“After I check to see if he is all right, would you dance with me?”
She smiled, a smile that brightened her eyes and gave her a radiant glow. “I would love to. I will wait out here. I don’t want your grandfather to get angry because he sees me.”
Nathan stepped close—so near that her scent of roses, from a special soap she had brought all the way from England—surrounded him. “I am sorry about our argument earlier. I don’t want us—”
She pressed her gloved fingers against his lips. “We have to be able to express our feelings and concerns. The fight was just as much my fault as yours. Seeing your grandfather did not make matters better.”
He clasped her hand and turned it so he could raise her palm and kiss it. “My grandfather does not deserve your compassion. Wait here and I will be back in a few minutes after I satisfy myself that he is fine.”
Nathan crossed to the door of the library and pushed it open a few inches. Peering inside, he saw his grandfather standing in the middle of the room, his back to Nathan, his cane moving back and forth as though he had tremors.
Nathan went into the library, leaving the door ajar. “Grandfather?”
His grandfather shifted around partway, his dilated eyes fixing on Nathan. Sweat rolled down his face. He wobbled then crumpled to the floor. Nathan surged forward and caught him before his head hit the wooden planks.
Nathan eased the old man down and brushed his hand across his forehead. Heat burned his fingertips.
“Rachel,” Nathan called out.
She hurri
ed into the library. “What is wrong?”
“Get John and Patrick. Grandfather has had a relapse.”
As she left, Nathan turned back to his grandfather, who started shivering, curling up and clutching himself. Nathan had seen this many times before. This wasn’t the same ailment he’d had six weeks ago. This was malaria.
Twelve
“George has agreed to take you all home to the farm. I should be along in a day or so. Until then he will stay there. I wish you would stay here. Sarah would love your company.” Nathan stood in the upstairs hallway at Liberty Hall outside the room his grandfather was in.
“There’s so much that needs to be done at home. Besides, for the past two days your sister has had company. I am sure she would appreciate some quiet.”
“True. ’Tis hard enough all the work she normally has to do to be the mistress of a plantation, but now that she is with child she needs to rest.”
“She told me she feels fine, better than with Sean.”
“She would tell you that to keep me from worrying about her.”
“How did you talk Mr. Baker into staying with us?”
“It was not hard. He fancies himself in love with Maddy.”
“I thought that. I think she returns his affection.”
“Grandfather has had malaria before. Hopefully, he will recover as he did last time. I have given him cinchona bark and I am trying to keep his fever down. Otherwise ’tis out of my hands.”
“And in the Lord’s. We shall be all right. Nothing else has happened in the past three weeks. Whoever was in the swamp has moved on. I cannot see anyone wanting to live in such a vile place.” Rachel shivered, remembering the few times she had gone a short distance into the bog around her farm.
“You could cultivate the low-lying areas with rice and indigo. That would produce more money.”
“We can talk when you come back to the farm. Right now, concentrate on your grandfather.” Because if he didn’t, he would blame himself if his grandfather died. Rachel did not want that for Nathan. He carried enough guilt because of the soldiers he could not save and Eliza and her baby. Impulsively she reached up and brushed her lips across his cheek. “This may be your opportunity to repair your relationship with him. I shall not be around to distract your grandfather.”
From This Day Forward Page 16