“You would not dare!” Rosalind gasped, outraged.
“Try me,” he said through gritted teeth. “’Twill give the woman something to worry about…until we are wed.”
Glaring at him, Rosalind turned on her heel and walked off. He gave her no choice, she raged, other than to begin acting more like the blushing bride-to-be, thrilled to be marrying one of the wonderful Corwin brothers. Because of Nathaniel’s threats, she would be forced to feign interest in Abigail’s endless chatter about the upcoming event and cordially greet the guests who stopped by to offer their blessings. And although unbearably difficult, she even would have to make an effort to treat Nathaniel more kindly.
* * * * *
“You have changed,” Nathaniel commented as he and Rosalind sat on a grassy slope on the Corwins’ grounds four days before the wedding. The summer sun, swollen and orange, had just begun it descent behind the trees. “You actually have been…warmer…to me of late.”
Only because you have forced me to be, you fool!
Rosalind offered him a slight smile. “Seeing we are soon to be bound together until death separates us, I feel ‘tis better if I make an effort to be pleasant.”
Nathaniel laughed humorlessly. “You make it sound as though it is some form of penance to be nice to me.” His eyes settled on her profile. “Despite your misgivings, I sincerely believe we shall have a good life together, Rosalind. You have my word, I shall always do my best to please you…to make you happy. Do not resent me for insisting upon this marriage. ‘Tis just that my heart told me from our first meeting that you and I were meant to be together…and I always follow my instincts.”
Slowly, Rosalind turned to face him. The summer sun had streaked his light-brown hair with golden highlights and deepened the color of his skin to a warm bronze. Try as she might, she could not deny he was handsome. She supposed she should consider it a small blessing she would not have to awaken beside an ugly troll of a man each morning.
“Why are you staring?” Nathaniel asked, appearing somewhat uncomfortable beneath her unblinking perusal.
“I was just thinking I am fortunate to be marrying a handsome man,” she said honestly. She refrained from adding that Nathaniel’s looks probably were his only redeeming quality.
“Nay, I am the one who is lucky.” He reached out to touch her hair. “You are so beautiful and so good for me…and my mother. I have chosen well.”
Rosalind’s eyes locked with his, and for reasons she did not understand, she suddenly felt powerless to look away.
Nathaniel’s hand moved to caress the back of her neck. Gently, he urged her head forward, then leaned to kiss her – a soft, undemanding kiss that, to Rosalind’s surprise, was not entirely unpleasant. Perhaps Abigail had been right, she thought. Perhaps the man did possess a tender side after all.
Nathaniel reluctantly pulled away from her. “I do care about you,” he breathed.
Rosalind was acutely aware that not once during their betrothal had the word love ever been mentioned. She silently wondered if Nathaniel even knew the meaning of the word.
“Do you think ‘tis possible that in time, you might come to gain some affection for me?” he asked.
Rosalind finally found the strength to tear her gaze from his face. “No one, especially I, can predict what the future may hold,” she said, looking down at a cricket as it scurried beneath a leaf on the ground. “I know not what I might be feeling ten years from now.”
“I do,” he said, smiling. He covered her hand with his. “You will look back and wonder how you ever thought it possible to live without me!”
* * * * *
The sound of rain against the house awoke Rosalind at dawn the next morning, although she had not been sleeping soundly. With the wedding only three days away, sleep was something that constantly eluded her. The night before, she had lain awake for hours, desperately trying to think of a means in which to avoid wedding Nathaniel without jeopardizing her family.
And at long last, she had come up with a plan. Granted, it was dangerous, but she was willing to take the risk and carry it out…and rid herself of Nathaniel and his hold on her once and for all.
Her plotting was disturbed by someone rapping at her chamber door. “Mistress Rosalind!” Grace’s voice called from the other side. “Your brother is here and craves a word with you!”
“Ben?” Rosalind immediately was concerned. For what purpose, she wondered, would her brother venture out in a rainstorm, and at such an early hour? She leapt to her feet and hurried across the chamber to open to door. Ben, his long cloak dripping puddles on the floor, stood in the hallway.
“Ben!” Rosalind gasped, moving to embrace him in spite of his sogginess. “Come in and dry off.”
He entered the chamber, doffed his cloak and wrapped himself in the blanket Rosalind offered him.
“Pray tell,” she anxiously asked, “what brings you here?”
“I have come to seek your help,” he said. “I would not disturb you so near to your wedding day if I were not desperate.”
Rosalind only stared at him.
“Faith is with child,” he said.
“Oh, I am so delighted!” Rosalind responded. “You both must be thrilled!”
“Aye, we are,” he said, smiling. “And we knew Faith might feel ill each morning, as is common. But this morn she was severely ill and took to her bed afterwards, too weak to get up.”
“’I know it must seem terrible to you,” Rosalind said, “but do not worry, Ben, ‘tis not an unusual occurrence for a woman who is with child.”
“I know,” he said. “But later this morn, Jacob Whitney and I are journeying to North Ammon to collect a cow I purchased. We shall be gone overnight.”
“You purchased a cow?”
“Aye. Jacob’s uncle offered it to me for such a pittance, I could not pass it up. We shall have butter, milk, cheese and cream right at our doorstep from here on. I must think of my future child now when making decisions.”
Rosalind still did not understand why Ben needed her help. “What is that you want from me? To teach you how to milk a cow?”
Ben rolled his eyes. “I am concerned about leaving Faith when she is feeling so poorly. I walked over to Mother’s to ask her to check on Faith, but unfortunately, Nellie and Elizabeth are ill and she does not want to leave them.”
“Nellie and Elizabeth are ill?” Rosalind’s expression reflected her concern.
“Aye, but not to worry. It seems they and their friend Rebecca got into some of Rebecca’s father’s secret supply of drink and…”
“They got sotted?” Rosalind gasped.
“I fear so. Mother was not at all pleased, but said it was a lesson well learned, for she is certain they shall never touch such a drink again.”
“So you would like me to stay with Faith while you are away overnight because you are concerned about her?” Rosalind asked, finally understanding why Ben had come for her.
He nodded. “I will fully understand if you refuse me,” he said, “especially since the time is so near to your wedding and I know there is still much to do. But I would feel very much relieved if I knew Faith was with someone during my absence. The prospect of becoming a father has made me overly concerned, I must confess.”
“I would love to help,” Rosalind said. And to get away from this godforsaken place for a day. “But I do not think Abigail would approve of me being away overnight. Not with the wedding so near.”
The door to Abigail’s door creaked open. Both Rosalind and Ben turned to look in that direction. Abigail, looking as if she were struggling to wake up, appeared in the doorway.
“I thought I heard Ben’s voice,” she said. “What brings you here at his early hour, lad?”
“Faith, Nellie and Elizabeth all are ill and I must go to North Ammon to collect a cow I purchased from Jacob Whitney’s uncle. I was hoping Rosalind could stay with Faith until my return on the morrow. I fear my wife will not eat while I am gone, and she nee
ds to keep up her strength.”
Abigail immediately appeared fully awake. “They are all ill? Think you that they shall be well in time for the wedding?”
“Aye,” Ben said. “I believe Nellie and Elizabeth shall be fine by morning. And Faith’s illness is due to the effects of being with child.”
Abigail smiled. “Oh, how wonderful, Ben! You are going to be a father!”
He smiled proudly in return. “’Tis why it is so important that Faith eats, for she must now eat for two.”
Abigail looked at Rosalind, whose expression was hopeful.
“Everything is in order for the wedding,” Abigail said. “There is naught more for you to do, Rosalind, other than to don your beautiful gown and speak your vows. So yes, you may go take care of Faith. But be certain to return as early as possible tomorrow, for the guests who are traveling from Boston shall be arriving here by evening, and a special supper is being planned to welcome them.”
Rosalind nodded, then turned to smile at Ben. “I shall gather some of my belongings and return with you posthaste.”
“You are certain you feel up to it?” Ben asked. “I do not wish to cause you to fall ill for your wedding.”
“I am fine,” she assured him.
* * * * *
By the time Ben and Rosalind had covered a quarter of the distance to Ben’s house, the soaking rains had dwindled to a fine mist. The mud and slippery rocks along the path slowed their progress, much to Rosalind’s frustration.
“I wish we could walk faster,” Ben said, as if reading her thoughts. “Jacob shall be over to get me in less than an hour for our journey to his uncle’s.” He looked at Rosalind, hesitating before he spoke again. “So,” he said, “it appears this wedding is going to take place.”
“I fear so,” she said, not wishing to divulge her secret plan to him. To speak of it aloud, she feared, may curse it and prevent it from succeeding. “Nathaniel knows he can make me do his bidding simply by reminding me of what he will do to Mother…and you. How can I possibly fight that?”
Ben frowned. “The man seems obsessed with wedding you. Do you think ‘tis possible he does love you?”
Rosalind’s laugh was bitter. “Hardly. His words and actions tell me he is fond only of my appearance and innocence, nothing more. I could be as intelligent as a tadpole and it would matter not to him.” She stole a sidelong glance at her brother. “You will not believe what I witnessed Nathaniel doing the day Mother, Nellie and Elizabeth were here to meet with the dressmaker.”
“I can only imagine, knowing Nathaniel,” he said.
“I spied the captain and some red-haired wench…fornicating near the Corwins’ pond!”
Ben halted abruptly, paying no mind to the fact he was standing in the middle of a muddy puddle. “You jest!” When Rosalind shook her head emphatically, he asked, “Did you…watch them?”
“Aye,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “And it did naught but fill me with disgust! Nathaniel pounded into the woman with such force, the leaves on the nearby trees were shaken from their branches! And the foul words that spewed from his lips were enough to instantly strike me deaf!”
Ben could not help but laugh at his sister’s exaggerations. “And how long, pray tell, did you watch?”
“Too long!” She and Ben resumed their walking. “I finally became so angry, I walked right up to them and gave Nathaniel a kick right on his bare buttocks!”
“You did not!”
“I most certainly did!” Rosalind could not help but giggle at the recollection. “The trollop screamed and gave Nathaniel such a mighty shove, he fell backwards. There he sat, his naked bottom deep in the mud!”
“No!” Ben laughed. “The almighty captain’s pride must have been sorely wounded!”
“Among other things!” Rosalind’s giggling increased. “He came stumbling after me with his soggy breeches about his ankles! I was so angry, had I a knife at the time, I would have been tempted to geld him!”
Ben’s smile suddenly faded. “Your tale is amusing, dear sister, but I cannot help but pity you for being forced to become the wife of such a man.”
Rosalind sighed. “I try not to dwell on it, otherwise I shall surely go mad. But ever since that day at the pond, Nathaniel has changed and become…tolerable.”
“Tolerable is no way to begin a marriage. Even when there is deep love between and husband and wife, such as the love Faith and I share, marriage is difficult at best.”
“Speaking of Faith,” Rosalind said, “I hope she is feeling better when I arrive. I am just so pleased for both of you, having a child!”
Ben smiled. “I must confess I am nervous. Already I am fretting about everything that could go wrong.”
“Everything shall be just fine,” Rosalind assured him. “The birth of this babe will be so easy, you will instantly want a dozen more.”
“Poor Faith!” Ben chuckled. He turned to look at Rosalind, his curiosity forcing him to ask. “And what of you and the captain? Surely he will be eager to produce a Corwin heir in all possible haste.”
Rosalind’s temples throbbed at the mere thought of bearing Nathaniel’s child. “Although I am very fond of children, the thought of Nathaniel having to bed me to conceive them is reason enough to make me not want any!”
* * * * *
As Ben’s house, a sturdy, newly built two-story structure with clapboards on the outside, came into view, Rosalind breathed a sigh of relief. She hated to admit it, but the journey had exhausted her. She prayed that her waning energy would not interfere with her ability to help care for Faith.
To her dismay, her brother noticed her weariness. “I do not know if bringing you here was such a good idea, Rosalind,” he said, hesitating at the foot of the path that led to his door. “Perhaps I acted too hastily, rushing to fetch you the way I did.”
“Do not be foolish,” Rosalind said, taking a deep breath and smiling. “I am pleased to help out in any way I can. And, truth be told, being away from the Corwins’ house feels wonderful, as if I have been freed from prison.”
“But you are wet from the rain and risk catching a chill,” he said. “I would never forgive myself if you became ill because of me, especially so near to your wedding.”
Rosalind chuckled. “If that were the case, and I were too ill to go through with the marriage, I would be grateful to you…although, the Corwins seem so determined to see me wed, I suspect they even would prop up my corpse and still pronounce Nathaniel and I as husband and wife!”
Ben shook his head and sighed. “I have enough to worry about with Faith being ill. I do not wish to be away and worry about you also.”
“Will you please stop fretting? I have been caring for Abigail with no problem, have I not? Now come, let us go inside. You will be leaving for North Ammon soon and should be spending this time with your wife!” She strode toward the house, leaving Ben where he stood.
Rosalind entered the house and looked about. The house was larger than her mother’s, tidy and uncluttered. Ben had built most of the furniture himself. It was simple but sturdy, and Faith had decorated the chairs and benches with needlepoint pillows. Bowls of fresh spring flowers sat on the tables. Rosalind doffed her damp cloak and warmed her hands in front of the fire.
“Is Faith asleep upstairs?” she asked Ben as he entered. “I do not wish to disturb her if she is.”
Ben removed his cloak and tossed it onto the thick oaken table. His eyes did not meet his sister’s. “Faith is not upstairs.”
Rosalind scanned the sitting room, wondering if she had missed Faith there when she entered. “Then where, pray tell, is she?”
He looked at her, and in his eyes Rosalind clearly saw anxiety.
“Faith is visiting her sister, who gave birth to a daughter yesterday. She will be staying with her for two days to help out.”
“Help out?” Rosalind clearly was bewildered. “While she is ill herself? I do not understand.”
“Faith is fine,” he said. And s
o are Nellie and Elizabeth.”
Rosalind moved closer to her brother. “You confuse me, Ben. For what purpose would you ask me to come here by telling me false tales and worrying me so?”
Ben lowered his gaze and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “I-I…”
“You what?” she demanded, wondering if her brother might be losing his mind.
“He did it for me,” a voice calmly interrupted from the kitchen doorway.
Startled, Rosalind snapped her head in the direction of the voice…and gasped.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Rosalind.” The voice now was directly in front of her. She felt two strong arms pull her against a familiar broad chest.
“Dear Lord,” she choked through her tears. “Is it really you, Shadow?” She buried her face in the soft leather of his shirt and sobbed out her relief. “I-I thought you were dead!”
“Do not weep,” he whispered, his own voice uncharacteristically heavy with emotion. “I am fine.” He pulled her more tightly against him and kissed the top of her head. For the first time in weeks, Rosalind felt she was where she truly belonged.
After several long moments, Rosalind pulled far enough away from Shadow to gaze up at him. In a trembling voice she whispered, “You cannot begin to imagine how desperately I have missed you or how many tears I have shed for you.”
“Oh?” A hint of a smile curved his lips. “I thought you hated me.” He reached to wipe a tear from her cheek. “You were so angry when you left.”
Fresh tears filled her eyes. “I was so wrong, Shadow. I never should have said the terrible things I said to you.” Swallowing a sob, she gathered the courage to add in a breathless whisper, “ I do not hate you…I love you.”
“And I, you,” he murmured, leaning to kiss her. The moment their lips touched, Rosalind melted against him, her knees suddenly weak, her heart hammering in her chest.
Too Far to Whisper Page 26