As much as possible of Kathleen’s spare time was devoted to Isabel, and to helping the gentle girl adjust to her new home at Chimera. Two weeks after Reed’s departure, Mary had left for Savannah to stay with Susan. This gave Kathleen and Isabel ample opportunity for private talks together, of which the two friends took full advantage.
By now, Isasbel was fully recovered physically from her ordeal. She had gained back most of her weight and once more resembled the young girl Kathleen had known. But Kathleen knew Isabel’s emotional scars ran deep. Her beautiful face was often shadowed by sadness, her brow furrowed by a frown. She smiled rarely, and almost never without sorrow dimming its radiance. Many times Kathleen would come upon Isabel unexpectedly, to find her lost in a private world of dark memories, her eyes vague and filled with pain. Too often a flicker of fear would flash across her delicate features, and her small frame would react in spasms of uncontrollable shudders.
Isabel avoided speaking of her husband, and Kathleen did not press her on the subject. Instead, the young women talked of their days together at Mrs. Bosley’s Academy for Young Ladies. They laughed over some of the pranks they’d played on poor Mrs. Bosley and their classmates, and enjoyed reliving their happy times there.
“Do you remember when Fran Carrington thought she was pregnant because her beau had kissed her during the Christmas holiday?” Kathleen laughed. “How worried she was!”
Isabel smiled. “Yes, and then when she came down with that beastly cold soon after, she nearly died when old Bosley was going to call Dr. Frobisher.”
Kathleen shook her head in mock dismay. “How young and naive we all were then!”
“Stupid, but blessedly innocent,” Isabel agreed with a sigh of regret.
An impish grin made Kathleen’s eyes sparkle like cut glass. “What about the time we stole a pair of Bosley’s bloomers and hung them from the tower window!” she chortled.
Isabel laughed delightedly. “I’d forgotten about that, though heaven knows how! I’ve never seen anyone turn as many shades of purple as the poor old thing did then. I thought she was going to have heart failure!”
“When she found out who was responsible, I wished she had,” Kathleen pouted. “I swear my knees still have indentations from those three weeks of scrubbing floors she gave us as punishment.”
Isabel frowned, and then smiled again in remembrance.
“Ah, but you got back at Cynthia Oberly for telling on us. Do you remember?”
Kathleen roared with laughter. “Oh, Lord, yes! I just wish I could have seen her face when she woke up and found her long blonde braids whacked off at her scalp!” Tears of mirth rolled down her cheeks.
Isabel rocked back and forth, trying to control her own laughter. “We didn’t need to see her. The entire school heard her shrieking! I was just glad Bosley couldn’t pin the blame for that one on us!”
Kathleen nodded. “Everyone knew we’d done it. Bosley just couldn’t prove it.”
“Just as she couldn’t prove who put the blue dye in her face cream!” Isabel giggled.
Spasms of laughter had Kathleen holding her sides in acute pain. “She had blue wrinkles for a solid week!” she sputtered. “That was even better than the time we sneaked into the laundry and put itching powder in the starch!”
Peals of laughter had Isabel crying helplessly by now. “I nearly died laughing at everyone trying to scratch delicately.”
“And in a lady-like manner,” Kathleen added, aping Mrs. Bosley’s stiff way of speaking.
“You were incorrigible!” Isabel assured Kathleen.
“Me!” she shrieked. “You were the one who decided we should butter all the doorknobs, Isabel, and glue Bosley’s book pages together on exam day, and empty all the inkwells and refill them with lemon juice.”
“You inspired me,” Isabel declared vehemently, “when you hid the limburger cheese in Audrey Humphrey’s bedsheets.”
“Is that why you exchanged ground-up bird droppings for Dotty Saunders’ dusting powder?” Kathleen challenged.
Long minutes later, their laughter hiccuped to a stop.
“It is a miracle we survived those years,” Isabel smiled in wonderment.
“No, but it is a wonder the others did,” Kathleen corrected. “It was all that mischief that kept me sane until I could go home.”
“Do you suppose after all these years we should write to Mrs. Bosley, confess all, and apologize?” Isabel suggested.
“Bite your tongue!” Kathleen exclaimed on an exaggerated gasp. “She’d probably arrange for British spies to abduct us and deliver us up before her for past due punishment! My grandchildren would be grown before she let me loose again, and we’d be permanently stooped and missing our kneecaps from years of scrubbing floors!”
Isabel’s dark eyes twinkled. “Bad idea?”
Kathleen nodded vigorously. “Very bad idea, Isabel. Extremely bad idea!”
And so, bit by bit, Isabel recovered. Her sparkling laughter came more readily, as did her charming smile. Slowly she emerged from her protective shell, responding to the honest and unselfish love of her friend. Kathleen was delighted to see the improvement in Isabel, but wondered if Isabel would ever completely get over the dreadful things that had happened to her. It hurt to see Isabel close up around other people, to glance fearfully about as if expecting to be arrested and hauled off to Spain at any moment.
Especially in the presence of men, Isabel had a tendency to flinch if touched unexpectedly. She hated meeting strangers, and particularly detested riding about Savannah in an open carriage. Kathleen could literally feel the fear tearing at Isabel at those times, and she despaired that her friend would ever feel truly comfortable and unafraid again. Trying to convince Isabel that she was safe was a monumental task. Only love and time itself could work that miracle, and perhaps even that would not prove enough. She could only pray that someday Isabel would be wholly free of her dreadful memories and debilitating fear. In the meantime, she had to content herself with smaller victories; a smile here, a laugh there, Isabel's obvious affection for Andrea and Katlin, her willingness to help Kathleen in any way she could. Isabel had taken an immediate liking to Kate, and Kathleen was sure her grandmother was guiding Isabel on the road to recovery in her own unobtrusive way. While Isabel had cautiously accepted the friendship proffered by Mary Taylor, Ted and Susan Baker, and Kathleen’s Aunt Barbara and Uncle William, she readily trusted Kate at once, recognizing the same sterling qualities in the older woman as in Kathleen.
Chapter 6
Savannah continued with most of its usual fall activities, as well as some new ones instigated by the war. Work went on steadily toward the restoration of old Fort Wayne and building the new fort. Slowly but surely, the breastwork around the city was taking shape. Otherwise, no one visiting Savannah would have guessed a war was going on. No enemy troops threatened, though rumors flew constantly that the British were near, or had landed on this island or that along the Georgia coast. The only guns fired were those of the local militia training to defend the city in the event of enemy attack. A soon as uniforms could be sewn for all of them, a parade was being planned.
News of the war was slow to filter into Savannah, due to the British blockade which cut severely into shipping trade and port traffic. The residents had already learned of Isaac Hull’s victory in August, when his ship, the Constitution, had defeated the Guerrière. Just recently, word had come from the North of General William Hull’s surrender of Detroit to British Commander Isaac Brock in mid-August, and the surrender of Fort Dearborn and the subsequent Indian massacre at nearly the same time. It seemed the entire Northwest was now in British hands, which made the Constitution's victory all the more dear. But there was also welcome news of smaller sea victories by various privateers such as Reed’s in single-ship encounters of their own. The Americans appeared to be holding their own against the powerful British Navy and doing remarkably well compared to their counterparts on land, though they could do little to alleviat
e the British stranglehold on all the ports.
The church bazaar was held the first weekend of October, and Kathleen donated her time to work in one of the stalls. In deference to Reed’s absence, she prudently refused to serve in the kissing booth, choosing instead to work with Isabel in the fortune teller’s tent, a new attraction this year. Their booth did surprisingly well, collecting a good deal of money for the war effort, and Kathleen had a marvelous time making up ridiculous predictions for everyone. She foretold that Kate would meet a tall, dark stranger who would sweep her off her feet. For Susan she predicted triplets, all with an abundance of freckles. To Uncle William she prophesied another son to follow in his footsteps. When Aunt Barbara heard this, she told Kathleen she’d better dream up a second wife to present him with the child, for she certainly wouldn’t at this late date!
Another of the annual fall events was St. Teresa’s Ball in mid-October. Held each fall at this time, it was an elaborate affair where all eligible young ladies made their official debut into society.
That evening, as Kathleen stood watching the white-gowned girls be led down the magnificent staircase on the arms of their escorts and presented to Savannah’s elite, she recalled her own debut a few short years past. She’d worn a specially designed gown of glimmering white satin, with long sheer sleeves of pleated silk that opened up like butterfly’s wings when she lifted her arms. Scores of jeweled butterflies were sewn painstakingly into the fabric, creating a unique and dazzling effect, catching and reflecting the light in a sparkling rainbow of colors.
Reed, devastatingly handsome, had escorted her down the long staircase. Together they had become Savannah’s darlings that evening. No one could recall a time in the history of the ball, and certainly not since that night, when any couple had made such a dramatic entrance or had had such a stunning impact on Savannah society. Since that time, Kathleen and Reed had enjoyed being considered one of the city’s most attractive couples—though they’d shocked and delighted its leading citizens with their outrageous behavior many times over. Savannah, it seemed, was willing to forgive Kathleen and Reed Taylor almost anything. . . .
In spite of Reed’s absence, Kathleen found herself invited to many other fall festivities, harvest balls, parties, barbecues and feasts. She attended most of them, finding it an excellent way to introduce Isabel to their friends and neighbors in a relaxed, casual manner. While Isabel balked a bit at first, she realized that Kathleen was sparing her the intimate prying that often resulted at more intimate gatherings. Grateful for this small reprieve, Isabel allowed herself to be pulled along in Kathleen’s wake, frequently with Kate on her other side to fend off curious inquiries and would-be suitors.
The twenty-second of October brought Alexandrea’s third birthday. This year Kathleen deemed her old enough to have a party, to which several of her little friends were invited. In this way, Kathleen helped to ease the disappointment of Reed’s absence.
Susan, adhering to her mother’s advice not to travel any more than necessary at this late stage of her pregnancy, sent Teddy in Mary’s care. Altogether, there were fifteen children aged two to four, enjoying refreshments and games at Chimera that afternoon. The weather was fine, and the party was held outdoors. Andrea received many lovely gifts on her special day—as well as a full set of teeth prints from Randall Wicker, who had bitten her within five minutes of his arrival. But by the time Della brought out the birthday cake, all animosity was forgotten, and Alexandrea Jean blew out her three candles with a proud smile.
At the end of the day, Kathleen gratefully kissed her two tired children goodnight earlier than usual and retired to her own bed more weary than if she’d worked in the fields all day.
Reed arrived home without warning at the end of October. He had been gone for four weeks, and Kathleen thought he looked thinner and in dire need of rest. The furrows in his broad forehead and the tiny lines fanning out from the outer comers of his eyes seemed deeper than before, though he assured her he was getting adequate sleep. And most important of all, he was alive and in one piece!
Kathleen was thrilled to have him home, though the visit was short. As she listened to Reed recounting various encounters with the British, she was sure he was glossing over the rough spots for the benefit of his mother and sister. He knew Kathleen was fully aware of the perils of sea battles, as well as the exhilaration of facing a worthy opponent over crossed swords.
What he did have to say that surprised her, was that he had been to Washington to register his fleet with the authorities. As a result, he was now involved in various secret missions on behalf of the government, in addition to his privateering ventures and general harassment of English vessels.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Kathleen told him when they were finally alone.
Reed stopped in the act of unbuttoning his shirt, looking at her in surprise. “Why?”
She shrugged, her frown deepening. “I don’t really know, Reed. It’s just a feeling.”
“Kitten, your imagination is working overtime. Nothing is going to happen to me. There is no more danger in carrying out government missions than in forays of my own.”
Kathleen disagreed. “Yes there is, darling. When you attack a ship, no one knows your plans ahead of time, but when you are employed on a so-called ‘secret’ mission for Washington, others must know about it, too. What if someone tells the wrong person? What happens if a British sympathizer finds out and warns them? What if there is a British spy right there in Washington, working side by side with American officials, privy to all the same information?”
Reed drew her into his arms, smiling down into her worried face. “You are getting all upset over something that has little chance of happening, honey. I’m not a careless man—not when I have you to come home to. ” His soft words, spoken close to her car, made her shiver, and his lips gliding down her neck almost made her forget what they were discussing.
“Just be especially careful. Promise me, Reed,” she whispered as her eyes closed in delight at what his hands and lips were doing to her.
“I will be, love. Now, can we stop talking for a while? I won’t be home for very long, and I certainly don’t want to spend all our precious time together discussing war strategy.” His hands, splayed across her back, arched her lower body into closer contact with his, as his lips nudged her loosened gown off her shoulders.
“What did you have in mind?” she teased, as her own hands slipped inside his shirt, her fingers weaving into his chest hair, palms gently teasing his hard nipples.
He laughed easily. “Working out some lovely strategy, instead.”
Kathleen wriggled enticingly against him. “Sounds fine to me, Captain Taylor,” she purred, pulling his lips down to meet hers.
Much time was spent over the next few days showing Reed just how much she had missed him. What remained of his time was divided between playing with his children and readying the Kat-Ann for her next voyage.
Regretting having missed Andrea’s birthday, Reed had nonetheless not forgotten it. He presented his daughter with a beautiful doll, and listened intently to her detailed description of her birthday party. Andrea’s version differed a bit from Kathleen’s recollections, which Reed solicited later. He wished he’d been here to celebrate with them, and he privately conceded with a grin that Kathleen’s retelling was probably closer to the truth than Andrea’s wide-eyed tale.
Amidst all else that was going on, Kathleen organized an early birthday celebration for Reed; just a small dinner party of their closest friends, since Reed would not be home on the actual date some two weeks hence. The dinner was relaxed and enjoyable, and the gifts well chosen for being such a spur-of-the-moment idea.
Everyone seemed to come up with something Reed needed or could use on his jaunts. From his children he received miniature portraits that he could carry with him wherever he went. Kathleen had found a local artist who was quite good, and she had also had him paint a miniature of herself, which she gave to Reed al
ong with an oilskin slicker which she knew he desperately needed.
In addition, he received a thick wool jacket to ward off the November chill. Mary and Susan had worked hard together to finish it. There were new gloves from the Bakers, a knit scarf from Isabel, and an intricately detailed copy of the most recent map Ted could lay his hands on. The entire Atlantic coastline, with all the islands as far south as the Leeward Islands, was included, as well as Louisiana and most of the Gulf of Mexico. Reed was deeply touched by their thoughtfulness.
Reed spend as much time as he could alone with Kathleen and the children. His young daughter delighted him with the recitation of a poem she had learned especially for him. Her auburn curls bounced as she nodded her head in rhythm to the words, and her small nose wrinkled as she concentrated. Reed choked back a chuckle when she finished and she eyed him expectantly with enormous long-lashed turquoise eyes.
“Very good, Andrea,” he complimented. He laughed outright when she bobbed a proud curtsy and scrambled immediately into his lap, unconcerned that her ruffled skirts were askew and being crushed in the process. She grinned up at him, patting his cheeks with her tiny hands.
Returning her grin, he kissed her pert nose. “Are you Daddy’s little darlin’?”
Andrea nodded, cuddling close. Over her head, Reed caught Kathleen’s eye. “I wonder where she learned all her feminine wiles,” he commented wryly. “Could it be she’s been taking lessons from Mama?” His blue eyes sparkled with merriment.
Responding to his mood, Kathleen gave him a wide–eyed look, fluttering her thick lashes. “Why ever would you think that, Reed? She’s probably seen Daddy pawing Mama when he thought no one was watching. I warned you to be more circumspect,” she teased.
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