“Bastard?”
“Starr!” My husband swung to face me.
“Well, he can be, can’t he?”
Colin paused for an instant, then as he caught the gleam of mischief in my voice and eyes he burst out laughing.
“Aye, lassie, that he can.” He mimicked a Scottish sailor. “Come, let’s forget the bastard and get on with our evening.”
****
“I never knew how well wine and cheese complement each other.” I settled back against the big bed’s headboard, a glass of champagne in one hand, a piece of cheese in the other.
“Then I shall make certain you have them every night.” Colin grinned.
“No.” I laughed in reply. “Only on special nights …when we’re alone…and happy…like this.”
“Agreed,” he said, and fell to munching on his bread and cheese.
****
“Don’t get up,” Colin said when I started to rise with him shortly after dawn the following morning. “I have to be at the shipyards at six, but there’s no need for you to be disturbed. I’ll not be home for lunch.” He pulled a shirt from the armoire. “Father has promised to give me the day off tomorrow if I complete my work today. I’m looking forward to spending time with you, Starr. We need to get to know each other.” He looked over at me, his expression serious.
I nodded, and he went into the bathroom to shave and wash. Snuggling back into the big, warm featherbed, I let a sigh of contentment escape my lips. It was wonderful to be permitted to lie abed as long as I chose.
Three hours later I got up. I washed, dressed, and stepped out into the corridor to go down to breakfast.
The door to Captain Madison’s room across the hall stood ajar. Inside, the captain, naked to the waist, was shaving before a mirror and washstand while Marie smoothed fresh sheets over his bed.
The man has no shame. Disgruntled by his relaxed half-nakedness before the servant girl, I was about to go downstairs when Marie abandoned her task and sank to the bed sobbing.
Captain Madison in an instant was beside her, drawing her into his arms. To my astonishment, she leaned against his bare chest.
The captain spoke to her, much to my surprise, in French. I’d heard the aristocrats at Blackwell use the language when they didn’t want the servants to understand. She quieted sufficiently to reply. I could not understand what she was saying. She also spoke in French, but the expression her words brought to her companion’s face told me they had shocked and enraged him.
He swore softly. Then Marie noticed me and struggled from his embrace. Wiping her eyes with her apron corner, she rushed out of the room past me and down the stairs.
“Good morning, Mrs. Douglas.” The captain stood and addressed me, his words bitterly cold. “Eavesdropping? I’d have thought that was beneath the dignity of a person of your newly achieved position.”
“How could I be, when I don’t understand French? And if we’re discussing improprieties, you might either clothe yourself or shut your door.”
“I don’t see why my state of undress should bother you.” He snatched up a towel and sauntered toward me, wiping the remaining shaving soap from his jaw. “It’s not as if you’re seeing anything you haven’t looked at before.”
“Hush!” I glanced around the corridor to make certain no one was near.
“As you wish, my lady.” He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze raking over me. “You haven’t yet thanked me for explaining our similar fragrances to your husband last evening.”
“Argh!” I stifled the word “bastard” and turned to follow Marie down the stairs.
The pretty French maid must be another of his mistresses. I remembered Meg at the tavern and the woman’s possessive attitude toward him. Probably Marie had found out where he’d spent his first night ashore and they’d had a lover’s spat.
I stumbled over a small wrinkle in the carpet. Whore master! I screamed inwardly, as I jolted to save myself from falling. The man had an insatiable sexual appetite and was no better than Simon.
****
Late in the afternoon, I grew restless and decided to go downstairs in search of either companionship or adventure. I had breakfasted alone and then spent a largely solitary day except for occasional glimpses of servants as they went about their duties. I had the distinct feeling I was being avoided by Caroline and that she was keeping Randall with her to further isolate me. Gram, I guessed, was unwell, and Abraham busy with his various enterprises. I didn’t speculate about Captain Madison, content not to encounter him again.
As I was coming downstairs, the beauty of music issuing from the drawing room stopped me. Someone had put their fingers to the keys of the pianoforte and burst into a rapturous cascade of rippling, masterful melody.
I listened, a smile tipping my lips. I’d missed music since my mother’s death. But this was well beyond the realm of dance hall tunes. Eager to see who was producing the delightful sounds, I tiptoed down the remaining steps and across the foyer to the half-open drawing room door.
My husband sat at the keyboard, his fingers gliding over it, his expression one of rapt concentration. A narrow ray of sunlight crept through a crack in the draperies to fall across him and turn his rich blond hair to gold. In that moment he appeared an angelic wizard, weaving an ethereal spell with his music. Entranced, I eased myself into the room without his noticing, since his back was to the door, and into a dark, recessed corner to listen.
The notes filled the still, late afternoon air with an aesthetic cadence. In those moments, I realized that my husband was a master musician.
“Here you are!” Abraham Douglas’s voice, harsh with annoyance, brought Colin’s recital to an abrupt end. The music ended in a tangled crash as my spouse whirled to face his father.
“Father…” Colin tried to speak, but was again interrupted.
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Abraham’s face was livid with anger as he crossed the room and flung open the drapes to let in the harsh reality of the sun’s wilting rays. Startled, I slid behind a tall wing chair. “I send you to the docks to see to the Winsome Witch’s outfitting, and half an hour later I find you trifling with this confounded music box. Either you’re an incredibly swift worker or you’ve entirely failed to do my bidding. Well, speak up, boy! I’m waiting.”
“Please, Father, I…I had this sudden inspiration.” Colin was stammering, flushed and sweating as he tried to justify his actions. “This melody sprang almost full-fledged into my mind. I had to capture it before it was gone, possibly forever. I had to rush home for a moment, just a moment, to…”
“To play with a cursed bit of wire and wood!” Abraham’s voice rose in outrage. “Now you listen to me! You’ve a man’s responsibilities in this family. Try to live up to at least some of them.”
“Yes, sir, I’m going, sir.” Defeated, Colin started to move past his father, but Abraham caught him by the arm.
“I’ve said you have a man’s responsibilities in this family,” he growled, his voice lower but retaining its bitter ring. “That means producing my grandson. Starr’s a lusty little piece of heather, if ever I saw one. She’s capable of bearing you a dozen children. Thus, my lad, if you fail to become a father within the year, we’ll know who’s lacking, won’t we?”
“Father, I…” Colin, distraught and perspiring, fumbled for words.
“Don’t dare to tell me you can’t,” Abraham barked. “You’re a man. Act like one! Now get to the Winsome Witch. I’ll expect a full report about her progress on my desk tonight.”
Colin wet his lips and went out. With a disgusted grunt, his father followed him. I huddled behind the chair’s high back with clenched fists, anger forming an ugly knot in my stomach.
****
The following morning Abraham gave Colin his promised day free to spend with me. After overhearing what had transpired between father and son the previous afternoon, I understood the reason. And after the understanding Colin and I had reached on the first day of our mar
riage, I knew we would not fulfill the purpose of my husband’s holiday.
I had another idea of how we might spend the time. As I waited for Colin to shave, wash, and dress in the privacy of our bathroom, I ventured to make the request that was burning in my heart.
“Colin, may we visit Darcy’s cabin and grave today?”
For a moment there was silence behind the partly closed door. Then he replied, “Of course, Starr. I should have offered to take you. I’ll order a carriage. We’ll drive out after breakfast.”
****
Darcy’s cabin was about a half-mile beyond the edge of the village. Situated in a grove of softly murmuring white pines, through which the river was visible, the little structure was a well-built log structure with glassed windows and a small stable at the rear.
Emerald green ferns and a soft bright carpet of moss provided a groundcover about the small house. Its freshly peeled log walls, not yet weathered, provided a stark reminder of how recent Darcy’s passing had been. The peace and serenity of the setting made it seem all the more incredible that the horrendous act of suicide had, only days before, taken place there.
“It’s the setting of a beautiful dream,” I murmured in awe as Colin halted the carriage. “Or the subject of one of Darcy’s poems.”
“Darcy loved this place,” Colin said softly. “He was happy here.”
“I would have been also,” I said, entranced by the hushed, sensuous atmosphere of the place.
“I know.” There was a catch in his voice.
“Oh, Colin, I’m sorry!” I put a placating hand over his. “I didn’t mean I’m unhappy at Peacock House. I only meant…”
“I know what you meant, Starr.” He wound the reins about the whipstand and leaped to the ground. “Come,” he said, holding up his hands to help me alight. “I’ll show you where I buried Darcy. I think you’ll approve.”
****
The beautifully carved cross stood at the head of a still-brown mound beside a gently flowing stream, hidden from the cabin by a stand of young cedars. Sunlight streaming through an opening in the delicate patterns of the foliage cast a golden lace of light upon the grave and its polished mahogany marker.
I moved forward alone to kneel beside it.
“Darcy Pod. A man who fashioned dreams with words,” the inscription read.
Tears trickled down my cheeks.
“Dear, sweet, wonderful Darcy,” I whispered. “I shall always love you.” I bowed my head in prayer.
When I stood and turned to Colin, I forced a smile across my wet face.
“I’m ready to go home now, Colin.”
“Yes.” His eyes were tear-filled, too.
“Oh, Colin!” I went into his arms to hold him to me. “Don’t ever die and leave me—I couldn’t bear this kind of pain again!”
****
As Colin and I prepared to drive away from Darcy’s cabin, he gestured with his whip down the trail that led deeper into the forest beyond the log house.
“Bridgit O’Brien lives about a quarter mile farther along this trail,” he said. “Her brother Kevin used to live with her. He was killed several days ago. He was also expecting a bride aboard the Maris Stella. He and Darcy would often talk with great excitement and anticipation about their ladies who were ‘coming out’ together. They frequently expressed the wish you and his Mary would become friends. Now, they’re both gone. Mary is living with Reverend Prescott and his wife, and poor Bridgit lives alone and works in my father’s fish sheds, gutting salmon. She used to be Caroline’s personal maid, but when my sister-in-law discovered Bridgit had become Randall’s mistress, she had her sent away.”
“Randall has a mistress?” I recalled Abraham’s crude reference to Randall’s dissipating himself with fish-shed sluts.
“Try not to be too shocked, Starr.” Bitterness tainted his words. “We’re a troubled family. You’ll find you must stretch your powers of compassion in order to forgive us our sins.”
As we drove slowly back toward Peacock House, I ventured to ask Colin the question that had burned in my mind like a firebrand the past few days.
“Colin, why did Darcy kill himself?”
“I can’t tell you, Starr.” He clucked the horse into a fast trot.
“But surely you must have some idea. You said you were good friends. Was he unhappy? Was it because…because he’d met someone else and no longer wanted to be obligated to me?”
“No!” Colin reined the horse to an abrupt halt. “No,” he repeated, his tone moderating as he turned to me. “He wasn’t unhappy. He was eagerly awaiting your arrival. Dear God!” His voice rose and broke as he raised his eyes to the blue sky above us. “When I found him lying beside the brook, his face blown apart, the gun clutched in his hand, I thought I would go mad!”
I gasped and put a hand over my mouth in horror at the scene he described.
“Take me home, Colin. Please take me home at once.”
****
We had left the horse and carriage at the stable and were walking toward the house when I made a confession.
“Colin, I heard you playing the piano,” I said, avoiding mentioning the particular occasion. I did not want to embarrass him by letting him know I had also been an eavesdropper to his father’s angry sarcasm. “You were wonderful.”
He paused and turned to look down at me, his face brightening for the first time since he’d described Darcy’s brutal death.
“Did you enjoy it, truly?” he asked eagerly.
“Yes. I should enjoy hearing you play again.”
“Of course. I’ll play for you now! I’m delighted you share my enjoyment of music. There are few people left in that mansion who appreciate my enthusiasm.”
In the drawing room, Colin seated me in a wing chair near the French doors, which stood open to catch a late morning breeze.
The next half hour was filled with magic. Relaxed and inspired by my joy in his music, Colin allowed his fingers to dance over the keys to produce rapturous cascades of sound. I closed my eyes and let the music envelop me. As I submerged in the depths of its beauty, the pain and degradation that had been an integral part of my life for so many years washed from my soul, and I was reborn to an ecstatic state of nirvana I had never dreamed existed. Colin Douglas was a magician, a good warlock who had the power to erase spiritual scars and heal old wounds in an aching soul.
When the last note had drifted into oblivion on a soft summer zephyr, I opened my eyes and looked at the young man at the keyboard.
“That was magnificent. You soothed my aching soul.”
He turned to me and smiled, his expression bright.
“Thank you, my darling wife. You have soothed my aching soul with your caring presence.”
****
That evening fate decreed I was to have dinner alone with Barret, Colin, and Randall, whose trip to the legislature had been delayed. Gram, Caroline, and Abraham had gone to the Reverend Prescott’s home for a meeting concerning church repairs and the enlarging of the village school.
“Will your trip to Fredericton meet with success?” Barret asked as soon as we were seated.
“God knows.” Randall shrugged. “They will listen politely and then suggest I give proof of our ability to offer dependable, year-round mail service before they make a final decision. The wheels of government and bankers revolve with painful caution.”
“Damn it, man, you have to push them into a decision,” Barret snapped, as Marie offered Randall the wine that would accompany our meal. “You know how badly Abe needs that contract.”
“I’m not as forceful as you.” Randall poured me a glass of the ruby liquid.
“Perhaps if you drank less and spent more time doing your father’s bidding, you’d be able to live up to his expectations.”
“My father’s bidding?” Randall swung on the captain. “I’ve done his bidding all my life! I’ve cajoled and flattered until I’m disgusted with myself.”
“I wasn’t referring only t
o your position in government,” Barret retorted. “If you gave up that pretty little whore from the fish sheds, you’d have the strength and desire to bed your wife properly, and Abe would get the grandson he wants so badly.”
“Bastard! Ignorant, foul-mouthed bastard!” Randall brought the wine bottle down on the table with a crash. “You can dress yourself like a gentleman, but under those fine clothes you’re still a piece of fatherless trash!”
“God damn you!” Barret was on his feet, facing Randall, eyes bright with rage.
“Randall, Barret, please!” Colin had risen from beside me.
“Sit down and shut up!” Barret exploded. “Your own conduct in Vienna left much to be desired, boy!”
“Barret…” Colin’s voice broke, and he sank into his chair. He rubbed a hand over his forehead as if it suddenly ached.
“Colin, what is it?” Randall was instantly solicitous of his younger brother. “Did you get into trouble in Europe? Was it a woman? Did you father a child?”
“No, no.” Colin kept his head bowed. “I didn’t…I…”
“It’s all right, Colin.” Barret went to place a hand on my husband’s shoulder. “It’s over and won’t be mentioned again. Randall, pour the wine. We’ve squabbled enough for one night.”
“You’re right.” Randall acquiesced. “Starr, try the ham. Cook claims it’s one of her best.”
We began the meal as if nothing untoward had occurred, but inside I was seething with a question. What had Colin done in Vienna?
****
The first of my new wardrobe arrived on a rainy Saturday morning, six days after I’d married Colin. The drizzling gray skies could not dampen my pleasure as I examined the silks, linens, cottons, and laces, the delicate gowns and beribboned undergarments, the hose and night shifts, the bonnets, cloaks, and gloves, and even two riding habits I did not recall being previously mentioned. I would be attired as the wife of rich, handsome Colin Douglas should be, I realized as I preened in one outfit after another before the mirror in our room.
Marie helped me dress my hair to suit each outfit, and together we giggled and exclaimed over it all. We were becoming friends. I liked the young woman and was grateful for her assistance in helping me adjust to my new way of life.
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