by Jo Goodman
"You remember him?" Her heart fluttered erratically against her breastbone.
He nodded. "It was kind of you to bring him to see to my soul, though it showed an astonishing lack of confidence in my recuperative powers." His eyes glinted with laughter.
Jessa had never felt less like laughing. Her smile was wan. She couldn't think of anything to say short of telling him the truth and she didn't think he was ready to hear that. She certainly wasn't ready to tell him.
"How did I get here? "he asked. "And where precisely am I?"
When Jessa tugged at her arm this time Noah released it. She stood, picking up the basin and held it in front of her like a shield. "Do you remember being shot?"
Noah's hand drifted across the blanket and touched his injured side. "Vividly." He turned slightly so he could face her. Pain tightened the full line of his mouth.
He suffered it in order to see her better. He saw the protest forming in her eyes and made a brusque motion with his hand, waving it aside before it was said. "Tell me what happened after I was shot."
Still holding the basin, Jessa sank into the rocker. Droplets of water splashed out of the bowl and fell on her hands. She didn't notice. She could only think that the web of lies was ready to be spun. "The highwayman ordered everyone back into the coach. Everyone but you and me and Gideon. They didn't think you could survive and I... I didn't want to leave you."
"They let you stay with me? I'm surprised."
"They threatened to... to hurt me and Gideon if the others returned too quickly with help. I think they meant to take me with them. After the coach left I bargained with the highwaymen. I told them that I would pay them handsomely to bring us here. I'm not certain why they believed me, but they did."
Noah regarded Jessa solemnly. "It's because you have the face of an angel."
Jessa nearly choked. She had never felt less angelic. Oh, Lord. This was going to be difficult. "The men brought us to Mary's cottage—we're not far from the post road now—and I gave them the valuables that were in Gideon's blanket."
"So they got everything that belonged to the others after all."
"Yes." She hesitated. "Do you think that was wrong of me? To give them what wasn't mine? I didn't have anything of my own."
"I'm hardly the person to judge, am I? What you did saved my life." His expression was gravely sincere. "I thank you for that."
Jessa was uncomfortable with Noah's gratitude. "You were trying to help me when you were shot. There was a debt."
"Well, it's more than been repaid." He would have said more but his body was reminding him there were more urgent matters to attend. Noah cleared his throat and looked past Jessa's shoulder. "I was wondering... that is, I need... is there a chamber pot?"
Jessa's face flamed. "Oh! Of course." She took the chamber pot out of the cupboard in the base of the nightstand. "I'll leave you alone."
Noah laughed, then grimaced in pain. "Yes. I think that would be best. I'll be able to manage." By the time he swung his legs over the side of the bed Jessa was gone from the room.
Gideon squirmed in Mary's arms as soon as he saw Jessa. "Ma. Ma. Ma."
Jessa's heart swelled and in that moment, and every lie she had told Noah, would tell Noah, was justified in her mind. "Did I hear him correctly?" she asked. "Did he actually call me Mama?"
Mary laughed happily and decided it was not a good idea to tell Jessa that Gideon had been calling most everything mama this afternoon. "Would you like to feed 'im?" she asked. "I've mashed the lumps out of the porridge."
"Yes, I'll take him." She sat down and pulled Gideon onto her lap. "Mr. McClellan is awake."
Mary nearly dropped the bowl she was setting on the table. She caught it before it slipped off the edge. "Why didn't ye say so?"
"I just did." Jessa ruffled Gideon's dark hair. "No, don't go in there, Mary!"
"Why ever not?"
"Mr. McClellan is... ah... he's occupied."
"Oh." Mary turned away from the bedchamber door, picked up her mending, and sat down heavily. "Ow long ago did 'e wake?"
"Not long." She wiped Gideon's mouth and chin with one comer of her apron. He was showing a strong tendency to like porridge only when he was wearing it. Not intimidated, Jessa waved another spoonful in front of him. When he laughed she plopped it in his mouth. "He asked a number of questions."
Mary fiddled with threading a needle. "Well, are ye goin' to tell me? What 'appened?"
"Shh. Lower your voice. Do you want him to hear?"
"What 'appened?"
"He asked the expected: where was he and how did he get there. I told him the story we outlined."
"Good. A little truth. A little of the other."
"The other is called lying, Mary. And nothing good is going to come of it."
Mary simply let Jessa's warning roll off her back. She laid a patch on one knee of her husband's breeches and basted it in place. "Do you think you should check on 'im again?" she asked after a time.
It was not something Jessa wanted to do. She was not prepared to be engaged in further conversation with Noah McClellan. Using Gideon as an excuse, Jessa suggested that Mary be the one to peek in the other room.
Mary was only too happy to oblige. She was visibly disappointed when she found that Noah, far from being talkative, had fallen asleep. She carried out the chamber pot, ignoring Jessa's quiet laughter, and emptied the contents at the privy. When she returned to the cottage, Jessa was at the hearth, Gideon balanced carefully on one hip, stirring a kettle filled with chunks of ham and beans. Mary put the chamber pot in Noah's room then returned to her mending. "That pot can be yer chore from now on," Mary said. "Seems to me I left yer family's service so I wouldn't 'ave to do the like anymore."
Jessa grinned. "You never emptied a pot during your length of service. And don't try to say otherwise. Mama used to despair that you were not meant to be a servant."
"Lady Anne was in the right of it there. She was as 'appy to see me go as I was to be gone."
"I missed you," Jessa said truthfully. "Mama may have despaired of our friendship, but I would have been lost without it."
Pleasure at Jessa's words caused the tips of Mary's ears to redden. She bent her head quickly and applied herself to affixing the knee patch.
Smiling, Jessa took the kettle from the hearth and spooned a bowl of ham and beans for herself and Mary. Gideon was placed on the floor on a blanket and Jessa sat down to her meal, feeling as if the routine of past weeks was finally going to be resumed. Caring for Noah had meant that more household responsibilities had fallen on Mary, and Jessa was determined to right the balance of chores. Throughout the meal she and Mary talked quietly of inconsequential matters, and for the first time since the robbery their conversation was not focused on Noah McClellan.
"I think this scamp belongs in here."
Jessa and Mary both gave a start of surprise at the intruding voice. Noah was leaning casually in the open doorway to his room. He was wearing his breeches but no stockings or boots. His dropped-shoulder shirt was open at the throat and only partially tucked in at the waist. It was obvious that Gideon had interrupted him while dressing. What impressed Mary and eased Jessa's mind was the fact that he did not seem at all bothered by the interruption. His masculinity was not challenged by the squirming infant in his arms. Mary thought Noah McClellan looked supremely male. Jessa preferred not to think.
"I'll take him," Jessa said, crossing the room to Noah. She held out her hands. "You shouldn't have creeped in there," she scolded Gideon. "I'm sorry, Mr. McClellan. Mary and I didn't even know he had left the room. Oh, that doesn't sound very good, does it? I usually keep a better eye on him, but..."
"It's all right." Noah smiled. "He's just testing his freedom. Rather like I'm doing." He looked over the top of Jessa's head and made a short bow to Mary, then he walked to the table and introduced himself. His steps were slow and halting, marked by some pain, but he chose not to dwell on that.
Mary's mouth gaped and she
stammered her name.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mary Shaw. I've been told you are a friend to my rescuer. I'm grateful for your care."
Jessa rolled her eyes as Mary bounded out of her chair and bid Noah sit down. She had never seen her friend simper, yet that was precisely the response Noah was exacting from Mary. "Really, Mr. McClellan," Jessa said firmly. "Do you think it's wise for you to be out of bed?"
"Very wise," he said.
"But your wound," she protested.
"I'm on the mend." He turned his attention to Mary. "Might I have something to eat?"
Mary's hands fluttered. "Of course ye can!" she said quickly. "I'll serve it right up. Oh, what ye must think of our manners." She hurried to the hearth. "Get 'im a pair of Davey's stockings, Miss Jessa. 'Is feet must be cold."
Ignoring Noah's protest, Jessa set Gideon back on his blanket and climbed the ladder to the loft. She found a pair of heavy stockings in Mary's small clothes chest and brought them down to Noah. She looked at him doubtfully. "Can you put them on?"
Because she was so patiently skeptical, Noah had an urge to prove he wasn't an invalid. He took the stockings and rolled them over his feet and up his legs. Bending over made his head swim and brought a grimace of pain to his lips, but he was determined not to let her know. When he straightened, his smile was in place though a trifle wan. "Nothing to it," he said cheekily.
Jessa's look remained doubtful but she withheld comment. Mary set a bowl in front of him and a large chunk of fresh-baked bread. Noah thanked her politely and began to eat.
"Please," he said. "Sit down. I didn't mean to interrupt your meal. Mm, my compliments. This is delicious."
Mary snorted delicately as she picked up her spoon.
"Anythin' would taste good to ye now. Ye 'aven't sipped more than 'erb tea since ye been 'ere."
Noah broke off a bit of bread and dipped it in his ham and beans. "No, I mean it. This is very..." He stopped and tilted his head in Gideon's direction. "There he goes again."
Sighing theatrically, Jessa scooped Gideon in her arms as he tried to creep past her.
"Ma. Ma. Ma," he said, flinging his arms wide and struggling for release. Jessa held him fast, ignored his crying, and continued to eat her own meal.
"Who is Davey?" Noah wondered aloud, watching Jessa's easy handling of her young son. It occurred to him that perhaps he was wearing her dead husband's stockings. It made him slightly uncomfortable. Beneath the table he wiggled his toes.
"Davey's me 'usband," Mary said."'E's in Lunnen now, lookin' for work."
Jesse was amazed at the ease with which Mary could lie. She studiously avoided Mary's eyes and concentrated on her food.
"I see," said Noah. "Then you women are alone."
"'Ardly," Mary scoffed. "I've got family scattered all over. There's always someone to lend a 'and if me and Miss Jessa need one."
"That's good. Still, it couldn't have been easy for you to care for me. I appreciate the sacrifice you've made."
"It was hardly a sacrifice," Jessa put in. "I was returning a kindness."
"I was wondering why you didn't pay a visit to either Linfield or Stanhope. I believe I mentioned them both when we were traveling together. Someone from either of those places would have come to take me off your hands."
Jessa swallowed hard. There was nothing addled about Noah McClellan's wits. "Frankly, I didn't give it a thought. You shouldn't have been moved again anyway."
Mary pushed away from the table. "I think I'll take myself off to Sarah's for a while. Gideon can come with me. Sarah's children like to play with 'im."
Jessa felt as if she was being abandoned to the slaughter. "Mayhap I'll go with you." She made to get up but Mary pressed her back and whisked Gideon from her arms.
"No. Ye stay 'ere and explain the 'ole of it to Mr. McClellan."
"Noah," he interrupted. "Please call me Noah. And what is there to explain?"
Mary ignored most of what he said. "Ye explain it all to Noah, Miss Jessa. 'E'll understand. Mark me if 'e don't. I'd just be in the way 'ere while ye work it out among yerselves."
Noah looked from Mary to Jessa, plainly bewildered. "Explain what?" he asked again.
This time both women ignored him. Jessa's shoulders slumped and she stared at her hands in her lap. Mary busied herself bundling Gideon. Jessa had hoped the explanation could wait. Mary thought there was no time like the present.
Too quickly, as far as Jessa was concerned, Mary was ready to leave. "How could you do this to me, Mary?" she whispered frantically as she opened the door for them. "Your brain turned to mush the moment he looked at you!"
"Nonsense. Ye tell 'im everything. Just the way we planned it. I tell ye, 'e'll not mind. I see the way 'e looks at ye."
"How he looks at me?" Jessa stammered, stepping outside. "What do you mean?"
"Yer the one with maggots in your 'ead. 'E's interested in ye, I tell ye. 'Is eyes just gobble ye up."
"Mary!"
"Go back inside. 'E's bound to wonder what yer doin' out 'ere in the cold." Mary gave Jessa a small shove. "Go on wi' ye! Now! I tell ye, there's nothin' to worry about." She turned and began walking briskly in the direction of Sarah's cottage.
"Mary..."Jessa whispered her name forlornly. When her friend didn't turn around, Jessa backed into the cottage and right into Noah McClellan's hard chest. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, twisting around quickly. Her eyes were on the same level as his open collar. Jessa blinked hard. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." Noah's arms lifted on either side of Jessa. Behind her, he pushed the door shut, effectively trapping her. His eyes bore into hers darkly but with a hint of laughter. In truth, he found all the furtive whispering and telling glances more amusing than mysterious. "I'd like to have that explanation now."
Jessa was not amused. She quickly ducked under his arms, escaped him, and began clearing the table.
"Jessa."
Not looking at him, Jessa said, "I haven't given you leave to call me by my Christian name."
"It's the only name I know," he said reasonably. "And that much I had to learn from Mary."
"Mary talks too much."
Noah went to the window seat and sat down, stretching his legs along the length of the bench. He plucked Gideon's blanket off the floor, folded it, and put it behind his back. "She did rather leave you in the lurch, didn't she? But what could you possibly have to tell me that's so terrible?"
Jessa itched to wipe the smug look off his face. She restrained herself. Smug he might be, but it was better than the look that would surely follow once he knew about the marriage. Jessa placed the bowls in a bucket of water to be scrubbed later and sat down at the table. She felt more comfortable with the barrier and half the length of the room between them.
"I hardly know what to tell you first," she said. "You've asked why neither of us paid a visit to Stanhope or Linfield."
"And your explanation did not ring quite true."
Wonderful! He already suspected she was a liar. "Well, it was true as far as it went," she began. "But there is another, more important reason why I didn't inform anyone in either of those places where you were." Jessa plucked at a piece of lint on the bodice of her drab brown dress. "You see, when you met me in the coach I was running away." Her wide gray eyes lifted, imploring him. "I couldn't tell anyone where you were or I should be found myself."
Noah sat up a little straighter. "Running? From whom?"
"My husband's family," she said quietly. "Or rather, my dead husband's family. Robert passed away a few days before Christmas." Tears glistened in her eyes. Surely, Jessa thought, she would burn in hell for this. "It was the influenza. There was nothing the doctors could do for him. It was very sudden." She drew in a breath. "We lived with his parents at Grant Hall since the time we were married. Robert was an only son and the heir. Now Gideon is the heir and his grandparents want him."
Noah was at a loss as to how to comfort her. "Surely that's not a bad thing. My own parents dote on their gra
ndchildren."
"I expect your parents don't make it known they want nothing to do with the mother of those children."
"Of course not," he said, beginning to understand. "Is that what's been made known to you?"
Jessa nodded, sniffing inelegantly. She pulled out a scrap of linen that had been bunched under the cuff of her sleeve and wiped her nose. Composing herself to show Noah that she was not without backbone, she went on. "The duke and duchess of Grantham don't want me at the hall and they've spoken rather plainly about it. They objected to my marriage to Robert and have made no secret of their desire to have me gone since his death."
"But why should they object?"
"Being an American, I doubt that you'd understand."
"I might."
Jessa pretended to look doubtful, hoping she had captured his full attention, then pressed on. "I brought nothing into the marriage. I was the paid companion to Lady Howard when Robert met me in London during the Season. It's not an accepted thing, you see, to take a position like that when one's parents are—were—quality. My father was a baron. It is not nearly so grand as being a duke but it allowed my parents entry to almost anywhere they chose. They loved parties and dancing and entertaining. I do not mean to suggest that my parents were dissolute or without any cares. They simply enjoyed life enormously and they did not look to the future—mine, or their own."
"They were in debt," Noah supplied, forming a picture in his mind of how events had proceeded.
Jessa nodded. "It could have gone on for years that way. It's not so unusual. Papa would pay a little here, a little there, and everyone was satisfied. He could charm anyone. Our estate brought in a satisfactory income and there was no cause for worry. I certainly had no idea anything was amiss."
"And then?"
"And then there was the fire." Tears clogged in Jessa's throat and she swallowed with difficulty. Her face was taut, her skin pale. "It happened two years ago, in the dead of winter. Mama and Papa were killed. The house and the stables were destroyed. Will, that's Davey Shaw's younger brother, carried me out of the house. I had fallen on the stairs, trying to get away. By the time I regained consciousness there was only a smoldering shell." Jessa's fingers toyed with the handkerchief, twisting and pulling. "I'm sorry. You're probably wondering why I'm going on. Really, I had no intention of telling you all of this. It's just that you asked why Robert's parents objected to the marriage and that's the whole of it. Everything of value was lost in the fire. The estate was parceled off to pay the creditors, and still some of them went away with empty pockets."