“Because it is where I wish to picnic.”
“Why?”
Patience. “There is a nice spot within.”
Lydia shifted the reins from one hand to the other and eyed the woods again. “Far within?”
The muscles in his jaw tightened, and he let out a long breath. “No. It is not far. No need to worry overmuch about snagging your dress.” Lydia studied him until he thought he could no longer stand her stalling before she finally nodded and nudged the mare forward. Curious woman.
They wound through the low hanging branches, down the narrow path, and came out of the trees and into a small meadow bursting with wildflowers. He turned Draco to watch his bride emerge into the clearing. Her face lit, and a smile bloomed on her lips. His irritation at her irrational behavior waned, and he offered a smile of his own.
“Do you like it?”
“Oh, it is very lovely.”
“So you do not mind that it lies within the wood?” He smirked. He knew he shouldn’t goad her. Her moods could quickly turn somber, and he too much relished the look of joy on her face. Still, he could not help himself.
Lydia laughed. “Forgive me. It seemed a strange idea.”
Charles lifted his shoulders. “I do not see why. I found this spot years ago. It has long been a favorite place of solitude. And peace.”
“And you chose to share it with me?” Her eyes searched his across the heads of the mounts that separated them. Charles tried to ignore the sudden ache to hold her.
“As I have vowed to share all.” He tugged the bridle to turn Draco before emotion could cloud his voice and walked through the clearing. Near its center, they came upon a shallow stream that flowed with clear water.
He swung out of the saddle and reached to help Lydia down. She offered her hand, but he ignored it, placing his hands on her tiny waist and lowering her to the ground. He let his hands linger on her for a moment, and she turned her face up to look at him. Pink tinged her pale cheeks, and he felt his blood warm.
She quickly stepped out of his grasp. “Thank you.”
Disappointment scurried through him at losing the connection, but he gave a slight bow and said, “My pleasure.”
She busied herself with spreading a large red blanket and pulling out various items from the pack he offered. She placed miniature meat pies, bread, and cheese out in front of him as he settled in a reclining position on the ground.
“It seems we have enough food to feed several more.” He chuckled and popped a small chunk of bread into his mouth.
Lydia frowned. “I told Betsy it would just be the two of us.”
Charles reached up and grasped her hand, gently encouraging her to sit. She gathered her legs underneath her and spread her skirts out. Despite the extra fabric meant to cover a lady’s legs while riding, without the hoops underneath, he could nearly make out the shape of her curved hips as she primly sat on the ground.
“Charles?”
“Yes?”
“I have something I…need to ask you.”
“Anything, my dear. What troubles you?”
“Why me?” She kept her gaze on her hands, which twisted in and out of her skirts.
“I’m afraid I do not understand.”
The pink in her cheeks grew rosy, and Charles reached across to grasp her hand, giving it a small squeeze.
She drew in a breath, and her words tumbled out. “I mean, why did you choose me when every young woman in the county vied for your attentions?” She drew her bottom lip through her teeth.
He chuckled. “You caught my attention in a way no woman ever has.”
“Oh.”
She sounded disappointed. How to explain? He put a finger under her chin and coaxed her face up so he could look into her eyes. “I saw a lady who seemed to possess a quiet strength. Then upon speaking with you, I found a woman with whom I could hold an intelligent conversation. A young woman who found more to talk about than fabric and gossip. Do you remember what we spoke about?”
She bobbed her head, a curl that had slipped free of its bindings dancing by her ear. “Yes. We spoke of horses.”
“Yes. It was then I realized I’d found a woman who could keep my interest, who could think for herself, and who could be a companion.”
“You truly thought so?”
“Indeed. And once I began to call on you, my convictions were only strengthened. I knew what I was looking for. I desired a woman who could stand by my side and be my helpmate. I found that and more in you. It is something hard for a man to put into the proper words, but I’ve been drawn to you since the moment we met.” He winked at her. “And the fact that such a woman came with a beautiful face and fetching form only made her all the more irresistible.”
Lydia giggled, a light tinkling sound that brought him great pleasure. He would have to strive to tease such laughter from her more often. He reached into his breast pocket and removed a small box. “I brought a gift for you.”
Excitement lit her eyes before she turned her gaze downward. “You did not need to do that.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Perhaps. But I wanted to, nonetheless.” He lifted the offering to her.
Lydia undid the small blue ribbon and pulled the paper from the box. When she opened it, a melody began to play. She gasped. “Oh, Charles, it’s beautiful!”
The carved box inlaid with pearls had cost a good sum, but the look on her face and the way she said his given name was worth ten times what he’d paid. “Do you like it?”
She clutched it close to her. “I do! Thank you.”
“I thought perhaps it would be a good place for you to keep your jewelry.”
“The box itself is beautiful, but I have never seen one that could play music.”
“They have quite a few in Natchez. The music is made by winding the knob at the back of the box. Then, when you open it, a small tube covered in a series of raised bumps turns inside. That is how it makes the melody.”
She smiled broadly at him, causing a small dimple in her left cheek to appear.
“I am pleased you like it,” he said.
They ate quietly for many moments, enjoying the soft breeze that carried the scents of wildflowers across the meadow. The value of a woman not given to ceaseless chatter was not lost on him. Birds carried on their tunes overhead, and for a few moments Charles could almost forget the troubles going on outside of their little haven.
“Did you have a good trip to Natchez?” Lydia asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Yes. I was able to make arrangements with a lawyer who assured me all my shipping will continue through. Even if the North blockades the river, there are certain captains who will make it out to England by whatever means necessary.”
“Surely the North would not block a merchant ship on the Mississippi River. Why would they do such a thing?”
Charles lifted a hand to run a finger over her smooth jaw. “This is a war, my dear. They will do whatever they can to cripple the Confederacy. That means cutting off our money by cutting off our supplies coming in and our goods going out. But you do not need to worry. These are the concerns of men.”
She turned her face from him. “It seems to me it is a concern of us all.”
He rolled onto his back and looked into the clear sky overhead. The weather quickly warmed, and soon it would be too hot to sit out in the open. He did not wish to argue, only to enjoy some time of quiet peace. He didn’t want to think about the coming hardships.
“Indeed. It is something we must all worry with. But I pray it will soon come to an end. Many men I’ve spoken to say it will not last long.”
“Would you leave to go fight?”
The concern in her voice made him rise to a sitting position and study her face. Worry lines creased her brow. He lifted an eyebrow. “Would you miss me?”
She pressed her lips together and thought a moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “I do not wish for you to be in harm’s way.”
Did she have any idea what she did to him? When he spoke again, his voice was husky. “That is not what I asked.”
She fluttered her lashes and looked down. “Yes, husband. I do believe I would miss you.”
Forgetting the half-finished meal, he pulled her into his lap, breathing in her soft scent. She stiffened in his arms, but when he gently caressed her back, he felt her muscles slowly loosen.
“And what would you miss, my dear? This?” He kissed the tender place behind her ear. She gasped but didn’t move from his grasp. He could feel her pulse quicken under the caress of his lips.
“Perhaps,” she whispered. “Yes, perhaps this.”
A low rumble came from the back of his throat, and his lips found hers. She yielded to him, her arms sliding around his neck. He deepened the kiss and pulled the pins from her hair, letting the long dark braids fall down her back. He pulled his fingers through them to free the soft waves, and then pulled her tight against him.
A soft sound escaped her throat when he moved his kisses to her neck. “Charles.” She breathed his name. He began unbuttoning the back of her dress. Suddenly, she was no longer in his embrace, but standing before him, breathing heavily.
“Oh, no. We mustn’t.”
His chest tightened. “Why not? You are my wife.”
She looked at him with wide, doe eyes. “Here? In the open? No, that cannot be proper. A lady shouldn’t do such things, don’t you think?” She blinked rapidly at him.
“I do not think anyone will happen upon us. In all my years here my solitude has never been broken.” He clenched his fist at his side and tried to calm his frustration.
She smoothed her long skirts. “I… I am not sure if I…”
He rose and wrapped her in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her silky hair. She trembled.
“Be calm, my dear. I will never ask you to do anything that frightens or worries you.”
She looked up at him. “Truly?”
His heart ached at the uncertainty in her voice, and he vowed it would ever be true. He would win the trust of this strange and beautiful creature. “Truly, my love. This I vow.”
She put her head on his shoulder, and he gently stroked her hair while the wildflowers danced in the wind.
Ruth ran a rag across the shelves of the massive bookcase in the front entryway. She’d never seen so many books. She tried to read the titles, but some were words she’d not seen in Grandma’s teaching book. She squinted closer at a long word and tried to see if she could sound out its meaning.
“Ruth? What you be doing?”
Ruth spun on her heel to find Lucy staring at her with her hands on her hips.
“I’m dusting the bookcase like you told me.”
Lucy frowned. “Why was you looking so hard at that book?”
Ruth shrugged. “I ain’t never seen a big book like that before.”
Lucy frowned and walked over to the matching bookcase opposite of her and began dusting. “I’ll finish up in the house. Why don’t you go out and get a load of potatoes and onions to give to Betsy for supper.”
Ruth nodded and handed her rag to the older woman. No doubt Betsy had sent Lucy to do the job, but Lucy didn’t seem the type to want to get her white apron dirty in the potato shed. Ruth didn’t mind though. Besides, it would give her a chance to get a little fresh air. She’d already dusted most of the downstairs, and her back was getting stiff from working in all those little crevices.
She bounded down the brick steps at the back of the house and turned toward the building to the right. When she neared the door, she caught sight of a figure by the back corner of the structure. Her heart quickened in her chest. She slowly eased her head around the edge of the brick. A man in a big hat with wide shoulders ducked around the other side. She drew a sharp breath. Had Byram come back to steal her so he could sell her again? Or worse, keep her for himself? Panic rose in her chest, but she fought it down. She must find out. If she spotted him now, she could report him as an intruder and take her chances. If he came for her in the middle of the night… She shook the thought away.
Ruth eased around the side of the building, her back scraping across the rough brick facing. At the back corner she peeked around and found a broad chest inches from her face. She yelped and jumped back, losing her footing and falling on her behind. She scrambled to regain her feet when a hand reached out and clasped her arm. The scream died in her throat when she saw the calloused fingers were darker than the skin on her arm. She looked up into the wide eyes of a man.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Ruth snatched her arm from him. “What you doing sneaking around like that?” she hissed.
He took his wide-brimmed straw hat off and nervously swapped it from hand to hand in front of him. “I, um, well…”
Ruth crossed her arms over her chest. “Well what?”
He looked so sheepish she nearly forgave him for frightening her. How could a man this massive look so timid? He easily stood head and shoulders taller than her, and she was by no means short.
“I guess I’m goin’ to have to ask your forgiveness, miss.”
Ruth raised her eyebrows. “Miss? I ain’t no white lady.” She immediately regretted her sharp words.
He ran a hand over his face. His cheeks filled up, and he puffed out a blast of air. “My momma taught me to be respectful of young ladies, no matter what color they skin be.”
Despite herself, Ruth smiled. “I think I might like your momma.”
The big man grinned, revealing white teeth that stood out against his ebony skin. “My name’s Noah.”
“I’m Ruth.”
They stared at each other a moment, and a strange feeling tingled through Ruth’s spine. She wiped her hands on her skirts, feeling awkward. She’d never had trouble speaking to people before. Why were words sticking in her throat?
“So, you didn’t say why you had to ask my forgiveness.”
He dug the toe of his brown shoe into the grass. “It’s because I was watching you.”
“You was watching me?”
He pressed his lips together and nodded.
“Why?”
Noah shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Ain’t never seen a girl so pretty before.”
Ruth’s stomach fluttered, and she felt her face growing warm. She had no words at all now. What would Bridget say? She’d always been the one the young men looked at. Not Ruth. Sadness gripped her heart.
She pulled herself to her full height. “That’s right nice of you to say, but you still shouldn’t be sneaking around on people.”
“I know. Sorry. I was just afraid to talk to you.”
Ruth studied the sincere eyes set above his wide nose. He seemed like a gentle giant and maybe even a friend.
“You work up at the house?” she asked.
“I work in the barn. I trim the horse’s feet, take care of all the carriages, and fix most of whatever needs fixin’ ’round here.”
“Well, I’m happy to meet you, Mr. Noah the fixer.” She grinned. “I’m gonna be working as Mrs. Harper’s maid.”
He stuck his hand out, and she let him enclose her fingers in his huge ones. He held on just a little bit too long, and her breath caught. She slipped her hand from his and turned to hurry back to get the potatoes before anyone wondered where she’d gone.
“Wait!”
She looked over her shoulder.
“Can I see you again?”
As in courting? She frowned. “Is that allowed?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
Ruth swallowed hard. Before she could think better of it, she said, “I’d really like that.” She caught his grin before she turned and ducked into the potato room. She leaned back against the wall and told her heart to stop pounding like the hooves of a runaway mule. When she finally felt composed, she gathered the items she needed and made her way through the rose garden and back into the kitchen.
“Well, I was wondering
if you was ever gonna bring me my potatoes.” Betsy huffed without turning around. Her head was wrapped in a thick red cloth, and she stood frying something on the hot stove.
“I’m sorry. I got…distracted.”
Betsy turned to look at her. “Oh! It’s you. What happened to Lucy?”
Ruth shrugged. “She took over dusting in the front hall.”
“I shoulda known she’d make you go out there. Don’t you let her boss you around. She’s always looking for anyone she can get to do her bidding.”
Ruth giggled. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind. I was tired of dustin’ anyway.”
Betsy eyed her. “You look mighty pleased. Something you want to tell me?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“That so?”
“I… just met someone, that’s all.”
Betsy’s eyes twinkled. “Did ya now? Musta been a handsome someone judging by that look on your face.”
Ruth shrugged. “He said his name’s Noah.”
Betsy forked a chicken leg out of the grease and set it on a platter. “Noah’s a good boy. Many of the young girls have had their eyes on him. He ain’t never married, though.”
Ruth found a knife and settled on the kitchen stool to start peeling potatoes. Her movements were still awkward, and she took off too many hunks of the vegetable, but she was getting better at it. “He’s allowed to marry whoever he wants?”
Betsy didn’t answer for a long time. Ruth almost didn’t think she’d heard her.
“Child, I don’t know what kind of place you came from, but I is sure glad you ended up here,” she finally said.
A lump gathered in Ruth’s throat, and she fought back the tears that threatened to fill up her eyes. She didn’t deserve to be in a place this good.
Betsy cleared her throat. “Noah’s a good boy,” she said again. “Hard worker, kind, honest.”
Ruth finished up the potatoes without answering and took the bucket over to Betsy. The cook handed her a plate of cornbread. “Here, take this into the house.”
Ruth shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause I can’t whistle.”
Betsy laughed. “Who done told you you had to whistle?”
The Whistle Walk: A Civil War Novel (Ironwood Plantation Family Saga Book 1) Page 9