With a rueful smile, she turned back into the empty house, dark and quiet after more than twenty years of gaiety and light. Her candle stood on a table in the stair hall, the flame struggling weakly in a pool of liquid tallow. Picking up the brass candlestick and shielding the flame with her hand, Meagan hurried up the stairway and down the hall to her spacious bedchamber. She pulled on a pair of clean, fraying breeches, a rough woolen shirt, and a warm gray coat. After turning up the cuffs until her hands showed, she found a ribbon with which to tie back her hair.
The back stairs that led to the kitchen were cold and winding, and Meagan slid her hands along the damp walls to feel her way down through the darkness. Her buckled shoes sat next to the kitchen door, and after slipping them on, she went outside to the stables. Her own dappled gelding was in the first stall. She was accustomed to saddling Laughter herself and only minutes later she sat astride his back as they trotted out to the road.
Moonlight cast eerie shadows as it filtered through the trees, but she had no time for midnight fears. The ride to West Hills took less than half an hour, and when she gained sight of the plantation house, Meagan slowed the horse to a walk. Hopping to the ground, she led Laughter into a grove of fruit trees and tied his lead to a low-hanging branch. In her breeches, the run to the mansion was easily accomplished, despite the muddy ground. The servants' entrance was as familiar to her as her own, and Meagan slipped in silently, pulling off her shoes. It took less than a minute for her to reach Priscilla's bechamber and she lost no time waking her friend, who immediately opened her mouth to scream.
"Don't do anything foolish!" Meagan commanded. "It is I! I have to talk to you!"
Priscilla pushed herself up against the lace-edged pillows, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Meagan! What are you doing now? I declare, you are the most shocking person—"
"I had to talk to you when I was certain Captain Hampshire wouldn't be around. I have arrived at the perfect solution to all our problems!"
Chapter 4
The high yellow wheels appeared slender to the point of fragility, and Dr. Dick eyed the post-chariot dubiously. A cool, sunny breeze ruffled his dark hair as he turned to speak to Lion Hampshire. "Are you certain that this contraption is strong enough to support the weight of human beings?"
Lion laughed out loud, his head bent as he finished strapping his valise to the carriage. "Elisha, you are entirely too skeptical! I assure you that not only is it strong enough, but it is also one of the fastest vehicles on the road." He came around then to clasp his friend's outstretched hand. "I thank you for providing me with such fine accommodations
. It has been wonderful to see you again and to meet Hannah at last."
"The pleasure has been entirely ours! You are welcome in our home at any time." Dr. Dick paused, frowning slightly. "Are you certain that this marriage to Priscilla Wade will go according to your plans?"
"Well," Lion smiled dryly, "I'll admit that her brother may have oversold her to me, but I believe she'll do. Priscilla's shallow beauty should suit my purposes quite well."
Elisha cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged. "I suppose farewells are in order. Again, thank you for coming to me; it's been wonderful catching up on each other's lives. I hope, after all you've told me, that your problems with Marcus Reems can somehow be resolved. It seems such a shame... Perhaps your marriage might help—"
"I don't lose sleep over Marcus, and haven't for fifteen years," Lion replied laconically. "His bitterness goes too deep to allow room for hope of mending matters between us. I cannot enjoy knowing that any man would name himself my enemy, but at least I am assured that the fault lies in Marcus, not in me."
Elisha's face puckered with sadness, not only because of what Lion had said, but also because of the tone of his voice. The gregarious, magnetic youth he had known so well at the Academy had a new, diamond-hard facet to his personality; cool, determined, and apparently lacking in sentimentality. Was it possible for him to have hardened so, or could this attitude be a defense? Blinking, Dr. Dick extended his hand. "Good fortune to you, Lion. Give my regards to our old friends in Philadelphia and keep in touch. If you should change your mind—if your plans don't work out—we should be delighted to see you settle here. Alexandria is destined to become a great seaport, you know!"
Lion grinned, white teeth contrasting with his tanned face. "I appreciate that, but I intend that my future will be all that I desire."
He called to Joshua, his coachman, who hopped onto the carriage perch, and then Lion mounted his own chestnut roan. Hair shining in the sunlight, he waved to Elisha and to Hannah, who had appeared in the doorway, then rode away down Cameron Street.
It was still early when the white columns of West Hills appeared on the horizon, rising over the bare treetops. The yellow carriage was right behind him as he cantered down the drive.
Priscilla stood on the veranda, looking attractively nervous. The robe of her emerald green silk gown was parted to reveal a pale muslin underskirt tiered with narrow ruffles, while her lovely breasts curved above the low, round neckline. Only a woven shawl protected her from the crisp February air and she took care that it was held open across her bodice. As Lion came toward her she smiled at him coquettishly, dropping her eyes when he raised her soft white hand to his lips.
"You are looking exceedingly lovely this morning, Miss Wade. I am honored by this personal welcome!"
His eyes lingered on her bosom in a way that made her blush, her long lashes sweeping her cheeks. "You are too kind, Captain Hampshire... but now that we're betrothed, won't you call me Priscilla?"
He grinned. "Nothing would please me more. Now—are you ready to leave? Where are your things?"
Flustered, she hurried past him into the marble entry hall. A large assortment of trunks and boxes filled the area, and Lion let out a low whistle, at the sight.
"Ah—Priscilla, I was not able to bring an extra wagon for the baggage due to the weather, and I fear that if we attempt to load all of these onto my carriage, the wheels would sink out of sight in the mud!"
Her expression was horrified. "Sir, I hope you are not suggesting that we leave any of my possessions behind! I was given to understand that I could bring whatever I wished!"
Lion raised an eyebrow coldly, deciding that his fiancée was beginning to resemble a petulant child. "That, my charmer, was before I realized that you owned more possessions than even one of my ships could carry!"
"How insufferably rude you are!" she shrilled.
"Perhaps you had better become accustomed to it or else cease your spoiled tirades. Now, if you still want to travel to Philadelphia, I suggest that you choose two of those trunks and one bandbox. Anything else you need I will purchase for you after we arrive."
She bit off her next complaint as a vision of the fashionable dress shops in America's largest city flashed in her mind. Suddenly her face was sweet and lovely again as she edged closer to Lion until he could smell the heady scent of magnolia that clung to her. "I really must apologize for my behavior, Captain Hampshire. Why, if Mama were alive, she'd thrash me for speaking that way to you! I can't imagine what came over me. I certainly wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression of your future wife!"
"Don't worry," he replied with an ironic smile, "I won't form any inaccurate opinions."
Her crimson lips were turned up to him and Lion took his cue, lightly tipping her chin back with a lean finger. Priscilla closed her eyes, waiting, and was surprised to feel his mouth touch hers so lightly that for a moment she thought she had imagined it. Hesitantly she peeked out from under long lashes and found Lion smiling down at her in an odd way. There was a frost in his eyes that confused and vaguely frightened her.
Removing his hand from her chin, he inquired, "Where is your brother? We should say our farewells and be on our way."
Priscilla flushed, stammering in a false, high voice, "Well, it is quite the most peculiar thing! He seems to have eaten something at breakfast which did not agree with him and
has taken to his bed!"
Lion watched her closely, raising an eyebrow. "It is fortunate that you were not similarly afflicted."
"Yes!" She glanced around agitatedly, half expecting James to recover from his sabotaged meal and appear on the stairs to find her out.
"Where is your maid? Call her so that we may take our leave."
He went outside to summon the coachman to help with the trunks and Meagan popped out from behind the highboy in the parlor. She wore a demure gray dress and matching pelisse, giggling softly with excitement as she pulled the hood over her black curls.
"What a marvelous adventure this is! I am looking forward to practicing this small deception on your self-assured fiancé!"
Priscilla was wild-eyed. "It will never work! He will know—"
"Not if you can manage to collect your wits and stop acting so guilty! Besides, what does it matter to him who your maid is so long as you have one?"
Lion came through the door then and Meagan immediately stared at her feet, assuming an attitude of meek subservience.
"I thought I told you to call your maid," he said sharply. "What trunks have you decided on?"
In her panic Priscilla pointed to two of them at random, then hurried over to Meagan's side. For a moment Meagan feared she might attempt to hide behind her. Lion stared at the two of them while the coachman carried out the cowhide trunks.
"What the devil is going on here? Where is your maid?"
"H-here," Priscilla gasped and Meagan wanted to pinch her.
He strode across the floor to peer at her, then drew off the hood on her pelisse. The long black hair spilled down her back and recognition sparked in Lion's eyes.
"It's you!" He turned to Priscilla, who shrank back against the paneled wall. "I've seen your maid this past week and I distinctly recall that her skin was a different color," he said caustically.
Meagan could see that her friend was on the verge of a teary confession so she impulsively stepped between them and smiled sweetly at Lion.
"Lily has lived at West Hills all her life, Captain Hampshire. Her family is here and Miss Wade is far too kindhearted to separate her from them. Whereas I—" she attempted a forlorn expression, "I am merely an orphaned waif who knows no life but service to my betters. Also, Mr. Wade thought that I might provide some small female companionship for Miss Wade. We are nearly the same age and it is sure to be difficult for her, moving north and beginning a new life among strangers..."
She knew that her speech had been excessive; no servant would ever be so bold, but since Priscilla was obviously incapable of acting her part, Meagan had no choice but to act it for her.
Lion was eyeing her suspiciously, but finally he let out a harsh sigh. "Something isn't right here, but I have neither the time nor the interest to sort it out. Half this day is wasted and we have a long journey ahead."
Once inside the richly upholstered carriage and with her betrothed riding outside, Priscilla seemed to relax.
Meagan was grinning as she bubbled inside with relief and her sense of victory. "Don't worry so, Priscilla," she laughed, "it will get easier from now on. Just try to keep your head!"
"I don't know why I ever let you talk me into this," she replied miserably. "He's going to find out and then we'll both be sent home! James will murder me and you'll be forced to go to Boston in the end and—"
"Oh, do stop it. No such thing will happen. You may believe that your Captain Hampshire is somehow superior to ordinary people, but I have complete confidence in my ability to outwit him. Besides, after we reach Philadelphia I'm sure I'll hit on a new course of action. I certainly do not intend to pass the rest of my days as your maid, you goose."
"But what about James? What will happen when he discovers that Lily hasn't come with me and the news of your disappearance reaches him?" Priscilla began to panic anew at this latest thought.
"I told Lily to inform James that Captain Hampshire decided there was not enough room for her and promised to find you a new maid in Philadelphia. As for me—no one would expect me to sit by and accept my fate in Boston, but James certainly would never guess that we could outmaneuver this nonpareil you are betrothed to." A fresh burst of laughter escaped Meagan's impish mouth, but Priscilla was not amused.
Barely an hour later Meagan's own confidence suffered its first shock when she realized that their carriage was approaching Mount Vernon. They ascended the hills on which the mansion stood and Priscilla gazed out the small window to admire the view. The entrance to the circular drive looked out over miles of surrounding countryside including the majestic two-mile-wide Potomac River which divided Virginia from Maryland. The water was still and bright in the afternoon sun, while all around were woods, cliffs, meadows, and neighboring plantations.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she sighed, turning to find a panic-stricken Meagan pulling at the loose tendrils of hair around her face.
"Dear God, Priscilla, you are both frightened and blissful at the wrong moments! Now is the time to be wild with terror, you ninny! He's taking us to Mount Vernon!"
Priscilla gazed back at her blankly. "Why, I shall be very pleased to see General and Mrs. Washington. After all, he is going to be the President soon—everyone says so. Perhaps Lion intends that we should lodge here tonight!"
"How can you be so dense?" Meagan cried. "The Washingtons know me! They have known me since I was a child! They were at my house just this past Christmas to offer their sympathies! What will I do?"
The question was purely rhetorical, for any advice Priscilla might offer would be worse than useless. As the carriage rolled up the long drive, Meagan decided she would be ill and suspected there would be no problem convincing Lion of this. Her face was chalk white and the look in her eyes could easily have been interpreted as pain. When Lion opened the door to the carriage, waiting for the coachman to put up the steps, he looked her over critically. Privately he thought that her conversion to female attire had done little to alter her disheveled appearance.
"Miss—ah—"
"Meagan!" Priscilla supplied immediately. Meagan felt like choking her again, for she had told her a dozen times that her new name was to be Eliza.
"Yes, well, Meagan, I'm going to ask that you remain in the carriage due to your—ah—state of disarray. We shouldn't be long, for I cannot spare much time. We shall pay our respects as speedily as possible."
Meagan watched as Lion helped Priscilla down the few steps to the ground, her heart thudding with relief. She noticed absently that they made a handsome couple; even the colors of their clothes, complexions, and hair were complementary. There was another coach ahead of theirs on the drive and Meagan recognized it as James Madison's. She had visited Montpelier many times with her parents and felt a fresh chill at the thought of his presence here.
By the time they had been inside half an hour, Meagan's uneasiness began to lessen. Mount Vernon in itself had a quieting effect on her. She knew that the Washingtons were contented in their home, and their love for it was reflected everywhere. Meagan was personally quite partial to the house, for it lacked the overt luxury of her parents' mansion. The perfect simplicity of the huge, white, red-roofed dwelling lent it an elegance that excessive ornamentation could never achieve, while the network of outbuildings which fanned out from the mansion had a clean charm all their own. She had spent many happy hours in her youth walking in the hanging wood which grew down to the river and riding through the surrounding meadows. It was common knowledge in Fairfax County that General Washington was heartsick at the thought of becoming President, and Meagan pitied him for having to leave his home again for the service of his country.
Her thoughts skipped back to Lion Hampshire and she wondered idly why a sea captain should be so interested in paying his respects to the future President, especially when the day was so far advanced. She vaguely recalled James Wade saying that Hampshire had been a delegate to the Constitutional Convention over which Meagan knew General Washington had presided. That seemed a partial a
nswer, but she was still mulling it over curiously when the red front door opened and Nelly Custis appeared. Laughing, she tossed her brown curls and called to Washington, her younger brother, who followed her outside.
At ten and eight years of age, Martha Washington's grandchildren were delicately attractive and likable. As they ran onto the lawn, Meagan repressed an impulse to call to them and pulled her hood up around her face, sliding farther down into the seat. She watched, stomach knotting, as Martha Washington came through the door, arm in arm with Priscilla. The General's lady was several inches shorter than her companion, but her highly dressed white hair covered by a Belgian lace mobcap gave her added stature. She was wearing a simple pearl-gray silk gown with a large folded kerchief covering her shoulders and bosom, and the smile on her face was unquestionably sincere.
Several minutes passed before the men appeared, talking and gesturing enthusiastically. Meagan was astonished to see the animation in Lion Hampshire's expression. She was also surprised to see that he was slightly taller than the General, for all her life she had seen Washington tower over other men. Now there was a look of sad resignation in Washington's deep-set, gray-blue eyes and Meagan guessed they were discussing the Presidency. The gentle, black-clad James Madison had to tip his head back to see the faces of the other men as they talked, but in spite of his diminutive appearance and soft voice there was an aura of power about him. For years he had been part of the backbone of Virginia politics, but had only recently won the respect and fame due him by creating the structure of America's new Constitution with his Virginia Plan.
As the group neared the carriage, Meagan hunched over and pretended to search for something near her feet. Voices came right through the window to her and she felt sick with fear. At last the farewells were said, the sound of the well-known childhood voices sending a wave of melancholy over her that blotted out all other emotions. Pressing her face into the folds of her skirt, Meagan fought tears as she realized for the first time the upheaval her life was about to undergo. It was too late to turn back, but sadder still was the knowledge that there was nothing to turn back to.
Touch the Sun Page 3