Rebel Enchantress

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Rebel Enchantress Page 9

by Leigh Greenwood


  “No one will see us. The doors to both the drawing room and the dining room are closed.”

  “But Lester will know. And he’ll tell your aunt.”

  “I’ll see that no one bothers you.”

  “You can’t. I mean, you can try, but you can’t.”

  The trace of arrogant aristocrat buried deep within Nathan spoke up. “I’m not accustomed to having my orders disobeyed.”

  When he acted like that, Delilah could see why Jane said he wasn’t any different from his uncle. He had an unbending, autocratic streak. What good was it for him to be wonderfully handsome outside when he was mean and ugly inside?

  But was he? Maybe he just didn’t understand Americans. Maybe she didn’t understand Englishmen. Either way, this was no time to try to figure it out. If they didn’t return to the house soon, there’d be lots of questions to answer regardless of whether they went back separately or together.

  “If you’re really interested in what’s best for the, you’ll go back now.”

  “You don’t believe I can protect you?”

  “People can sometimes control-their own thoughts, but they can never control those of others. Look at your country,” she hurried on when he started to protest. “England wasn’t able to change the Americans’ opinions of its laws no matter what the reasons were for enacting them.'’

  Delilah’s mention of the war caused some of Nathan’s eagerness to comfort her to fade. Even though he had begun to think of her as separate from everyone else, she was still associated with the rebels who had caused all the trouble in his life.

  “Don’t stay long.”

  “I won’t.”

  There was more he wanted to say, but the moment had passed. Even now, Delilah was drawing away from him.

  He turned and walked back toward the house.

  Delilah watched him go, for once barely aware of the sensuous movement of his hips.

  He was worried about her. He had actually left the gathering to make certain she was all right. He had been willing to risk censure to escort her back to the house. He thought she looked lovely in her new dress.

  Her heart soared.

  For the moment it didn’t matter that it was unlikely he could have more than a passing interest in her, that he represented people who had brought tragedy and suffering into her life, that in part he might be ugly, possibly even cruel. He was a gorgeous man and he was interested in her.

  For the moment that was enough.

  Chapter Seven

  “It’s time we got started,” Lucius Clarke said when Nathan returned to the drawing room.

  “Who’s going to moderate?” Eli asked.

  “It ought to be Lucius” Noah Hubbard said. “He knows the most about what’s going on, and he’s got the best connections in Boston.”

  “It’s Nathan’s house,” Eli said. “And he’s owed more money then all of us put together,” he added when both Lucius and Noah looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

  “My nephew doesn’t understand the way we do things,” Serena said, aligning herself against Nathan. “If he did, he’d have Reuben Stowbridge’s oxen in his barn rather man the man’s sister under his roof.”

  “We’re not here to discuss the manner in which debts are collected,” Nathan informed his aunt, “rawer, the situation in general.”

  “It won’t do a bit of good to make up a whole lot of rules if you do something different when the situation gets specific,” Serena retorted.

  The men eyed each other uneasily.

  “We’ll keep your warning in mind,” Nathan said.

  “Nonsense. You mean to ignore it altogether,” Serena snapped. “Priscilla and I will occupy the sofa.” She seated herself. “You may sit or stand as you please.”

  Priscilla remained standing. The men became increasingly restless.

  “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the sitting room?” Nathan asked.

  “No. Sit down, Priscilla,” his aunt said.

  “I think I’ll go to bed, Mama. I’m rather tired.”

  “All right, but I shall remain.” Her words were a challenge to Nathan.

  “You insist upon remaining on the sofa?” he asked, his gaze cold and calm.

  “I do.” Serena felt uncomfortable, but she took assurance from the presence of the other men.

  “I would never ask you to give up your seat,” Nathan said, his eyes now gleaming like agate. “Eli, would you open the doors into the hall. Colonel Clarke, if you would take the other end of the sofa.”

  At first mystified, Lucius grinned broadly the moment he understood what Nathan had in mind. He strode to his end of the sofa.

  Nathan and Lucius lifted the heavy piece of furniture simultaneously. Serena clutched at the arm rest to keep her balance as they carried her out and deposited her in the hallway.

  “Would you like Lester to bring you a branch of candles?”

  Hearty laughter convinced Serena that the men sympathized with Nathan. As furious as she was, she had no alternative but to accept her exclusion.

  “Don’t disturb yourself,” she said, trying to salvage as much of her dignity as possible. “I should have thought you, of all people, would have wanted my advice.”

  “You’ve given it so unstintingly during these last weeks, I’m sure I have enough to last the night.”

  “I shall not come down once I’m in my room.”

  “I would not expect it of you.”

  Convinced she wasn’t going to circumvent Nathan, Serena marched upstairs.

  “I liked the way you handled that,” Asa Warner said. “Simple and effective.”

  “I’d have clouted my old woman if she’d defied me like that,” Noah said.

  “Serena Noyes is not my old woman,” Nathan replied.

  “I still say a good whack on the head saves a lot of trouble.”

  “And destroys any chance your wife will be anything more than a servant in her own house.”

  Nathan hadn’t intended to sound so supercilious, but he disagreed violently with Noah. He couldn’t help but act as though he were talking to an idiot.

  “No man worth his salt needs help from a woman to run his affairs,” Noah said, anger turning his countenance red. “I don’t put up with any lip neither.”

  “We’re not here to discuss domestic arrangements.” Asa Warner was attempting to head off a dispute that could divide the garnering before those present got to the subject which brought them together.

  “We still haven’t decided on a moderator,” Eli reminded them.

  “I yield any claims my hospitality might give me,” Nathan said.

  As soon as it was decided the moderator could not speak, Colonel Clarke stood aside. Asa Warner was finally chosen.

  Delilah entered the back of the hall just in time to overhear Nathan’s remark about a wife being a slave in her own home. It shocked her to realize he was right. Even though her father had loved her mother dearly, she had never questioned any of his actions. Jane could sometimes talk Reuben into the course of action she thought best, but she would never think of going against any decision he made.

  Would my husband expect me to do the same? Would I? Never! Delilah had always argued for the right to do what she thought best. Otherwise she wouldn’t be at Maple Hill. She couldn’t imagine giving up the right to make decisions which concerned her. But it was a shock to learn that Nathan, a man she had previously considered autocratic, would not expect her to do so.

  Delilah turned her thoughts to a more pressing problem. How could she find out what the River Gods were planning when she was banished from the drawing room? She had overplayed her hand when she’d chosen that dress. She had to find some way to get back inside, and she didn’t have very long to do it.

  “Where have you been?” Lester demanded, stepping out of the butler’s pantry as Delilah emerged from her hiding place under the staircase. “You should be helping Mrs. Stebbens.”

  An idea flashed into Delilah’s mind as s
he preceded him into the dining room.

  “Mr. Trent said I was to take in the ale. You’re to help Mrs. Stebbens.”

  “You’re lying, girl,” Lester replied, outraged. “Mrs. Noyes would never hear of it.”

  “Mrs. Noyes was just moved out into the hall, sofa and all.” the sofa still rested in the center of the shadowy hall, mute evidence of the truth of her statement.

  Lester’s eyes grew big. “Whatever for?”

  “You’ll have to ask Mr. Trent.”

  Delilah smiled inwardly when Lester recoiled at her suggestion.

  “But that’s always been my job,” he protested.

  “It’s mine tonight. If you don’t believe the, ask Mr. Trent.”

  As Delilah hoped, Lester decided not to challenge her.

  “Now I see why you wore that dress,” he said spitefully. “It won’t do you any good. None of those gentlemen are interested in the likes of you, at least not for a wife.”

  “I’m not interested in them either.”

  “Does that include Mr. Trent?” Lester demanded. “Don’t seem to the servants ought to be wearing fancy dresses. Not unless something’s been promised that ought not’ve been.”

  Hot anger flooded Delilah in an instant. Coming on top of the men’s accusations, it was too much. She picked up the heavy silver tray bearing the last of Mrs. Stebbens’s custards and brought it down over Lester’s head with a dull thud. The blow stunned Lester and scattered custards all about the room. The tray fell to the floor with a ringing crash.

  The doors to the parlor were thrown open. “What the hell’s going on!” one of the men exclaimed. Several heads poked through the door.

  “Lester just dropped a tray,” Delilah said sweetly. Then she calmly closed the doors on the men’s curiosity.

  “I’ll get you for lying,” Lester growled.

  “You say anything like that about the again and you’ll be dead.”

  As angry as Lester was, he didn’t have the makings of a genuine bully. “It ain’t natural for Mr. Nathan to be so easy on you” he said, aggrieved.

  “He promised Reuben I wouldn’t be treated like a common servant,” Delilah explained. “Reuben threatened to shoot him if he went back on his word. He’d shoot you, too, if I told him what you just said.”

  Like everybody who lived near Springfield, Lester knew of Reuben’s explosive temper.

  “You’d better pick up those custards and bring some ale up from the cellars. With the kind of talk they’re having tonight, they’ll be ready to drink the cellars dry?’

  “Me! It was you who tossed them all over.”

  “Pick them up, or I’ll tell Reuben what you said.”

  Lester glared at her malevolently, but he picked up the custards.

  “Nasty bitch” he muttered to himself after Delilah had gone into the kitchen. “You wait. Mrs. Noyes’ll put you in your place, and I’ll make sure you stay there.”

  Delilah took care to avoid meeting Nathan’s gaze when she brought in the ale. The men had less attention to spare. Colonel Clarke was holding forth on a subject dear to their hearts Money.

  “We have to stop them from closing the courts,” he was saying. “I can’t get my money unless I can sell what I confiscate. I can’t sell anything without a court order, but I can’t get that order unless the courts sit.”

  “I’ve got a dozen head of livestock on my place right now eating their heads off,” Noah Hubbard said.

  “I’ve got a barn full of furniture and linens I don’t know what to do with,” Eli added.

  The worms and moths will take care of it for you” someone said with a chuckle.

  “If you can’t sell it, can’t use it, and it might die or be eaten up by insects, why did you take it?” Nathan asked.

  Every man in the room turned to him as though he’d spoken heresy.

  “Hell, you can’t let people keep owing you money.”

  “You’ve got to collect sometime.”

  The man’s an idiot.”

  “What do you expect from a Redcoat?”

  “You mean to let yours go?”

  “Of course not,” Nathan answered, seemingly unaffected by the contempt that greeted his question. “I merely wondered why you bothered to take anything that wasn’t to your advantage.”

  “It was owed to me, and I was damned well going to take it,” Noah said pugnaciously.

  “We didn’t have any trouble selling it until they started closing the courts.”

  “But we never got a decent price, even then.”

  “You can’t just do nothing.”

  “I don’t mean that you should,” Nathan explained patiently, “but they’ll have a hard time paying their debts without their livestock and tools. They certainly can’t do it from inside a debtor’s prison. Speaking for myself, I’d rather they fed their own livestock.”

  “Me, too,” Asa said, but voices clamored for immediate action to stop the Shaysites and protect the courts so what had been confiscated could be sold.

  Delilah was furious. She didn’t dare allow herself to look up. Even her surprise at Nathan’s words wasn’t sufficient to subdue her fury. She kept her gaze focused on the empty mugs held out to her. She was embarrassed, too, that an Englishman, rather than her own countrymen, should be the only one to show some humanity and common sense.

  “Most of these people are subsistence farmers,” Colonel Clarke explained. They don’t clear any more ground than they have to, and they don’t plant any more crops than they must to keep going from year to year”

  “We’d all be better off if they moved west. Let them run off the Indians and open up the new land.”

  “It’s about all there’re good for.”

  “Deceitful, shiftless lot. That’s what I say,” added Noah.

  “I can’t think why we ever fought a war for them.”

  “So they can go on having daughters like this lass,” one man said, making a futile attempt to pat Delilah’s behind.

  That was too much. Caught in the process of filling a mug, Delilah spun around so quickly she spilled half the ale over the offending speaker and the rest over two other men, a chair, and a large part of an Aubusson rug. She slammed the empty pitcher down on a Queen Anne drop-leaf table.

  “Most of you didn’t lift a finger in the war,” she said, including the whole room in one all-encompassing gesture. “You stayed safely in your store, Noah Hubbard. You made sure you extracted the full price for everything you sold to the soldiers, but you never so much as lifted a musket yourself.”

  “I suppose I didn’t fight?” asked Colonel Clarke.

  “Your company fought bravely, but you made sure you were well away from the hottest action. I know everything you did,” Delilah declared when Clarke tried to interrupt. “My father fought in your company. He had little else to talk about while he lay dying of his wounds.”

  Clarke’s face suffused with blood.

  “But your uncle was the worst of all,” Delilah said, turning on Nathan. “He sold anything he could to both sides—spoiled food, stolen medical supplies, weapons, domes, boots, anything he could lay his hands on. He didn’t care who needed it, only who could pay the most.

  “All the while these deceitful, shiftless farmers you’re so afraid of gave their lives, and their sons’ lives, so we could all live free. And what did they get? Reuben got three hundred dollars in script which was only worth ninety dollars when he tried to buy some land. My father got two wounds which killed him. What did the rest of us get out of it?” she swept on relentlessly. “Higher taxes to pay the interest on your bonds. Debts when we couldn’t pay the taxes. Our property taken away when we couldn’t pay the debts. You won’t be content until you have everything.”

  “I warned you not to come back,” Nathan whispered over the hubbub which greeted Delilah’s angry tirade.

  “I didn’t want your guests to get thirsty,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear. “I would hate them to be chilled during thei
r ride home.”

  “Is that why you spilled the pitcher over Mr. Pickering, Mr. Clinton, and Mr. Howe? I believe Mr. Prentiss escaped only because the pitcher was empty.”

  “I did that?” she asked. She stared in surprise at Nathan. She could hardly believe her eyes. His lips twitched, and his eyes danced with suppressed merriment.

  “I believe you were upset over something Mr. Pickering said.”

  “Did he make a remark about daughters?”

  “I’m afraid he did.”

  Delilah was looking at Nathan now. It was almost as though he were talking only to her.

  Then she swung around to face Otis Pickering, and the man visibly shrank from her. “Then I’m not sorry.”

  “I didn’t think you would be. But Mr. Pickering does need to dry off.”

  “"I’ll bring some towels.”

  “Maybe you should ask Lester to do that. He knows where they are kept.”

  “But-”

  “I’m certain Mrs. Stebbens needs your help. You know, Lester’s not very good with crockery.”

  Lester had never dropped anything in his life, and Nathan was aware of that.

  “You don’t wish me to bring more ale?”

  “My needs are quite adequately provided for, but why don’t you ask Mr. Pickering?”

  “You think he would like more?”

  “No, but it would be polite to ask.”

  “Sir, you’re making a mockery of us!” Colonel Clarke suddenly exclaimed.

  “On the contrary,” Nathan said, the sparkle vanishing from his eyes. “I’m attempting to treat you with exactly the same degree of consideration you have accorded Miss Stowbridge.”

  Delilah was pleased to see that several of the men looked abashed. One even turned red in his embarrassment.

  “You may retire,” Nathan said to Delilah. “Tell Lester I require him immediately.”

  A smile lightened Delilah’s features the minute the doors closed behind her, but her lightheartedness didn’t last long. It had been exhilarating to tell those posturing faint-hearts they weren’t fooling anybody. It was wonderful to share a joke with Nathan. It was even more wonderful to know he was much more understanding than she had guessed, but she had gotten herself thrown out of the drawing room again and she hadn’t learned a tiling for Captain Shays. She didn’t even know what they were talking about.

 

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