Tidewater Bride

by Laura Frantz

  He took a breath, expelling the turmoil within, only to take it back up again. If the chief’s granddaughter was not found or had been harmed, woe be to the English. The Powhatans’ wrath had been triggered by far lesser matters. Hindsight buffeted Xander with regret. Had he but refused Opechancanough’s request to keep Oceanus till the autumn . . . Had he but known about Ustis’s death and insisted Shay return to the Hopewells . . . As it was, more than Watseka’s life was now in jeopardy.

  The sparrow piped another shattering song into the stillness. Xander pulled himself to his feet and froze. The nicker of a horse drew his attention to the near woods as Jett gave a low growl.

  A trespasser?

  With a whispered caution to Jett and a tug on his halter, Xander quickly led him out of sight behind the main house. In seconds, Laurent rode into the courtyard atop a sleek sorrel horse Xander had never seen. He turned toward the stable and rode inside. Xander heard the thud of his boots hitting the ground as he dismounted.

  Long minutes passed. Xander remained hidden, awaiting Laurent’s next move. Thus far he was keeping to the stable.

  What was afoot?

  Selah smoothed her new coif with its lace edge and stepped onto the portico in anticipation of Xander’s homecoming. Her first day at Rose-n-Vale left her glad but guarded. But for Watseka, she would have reveled in her tasks, her new surroundings. Widow Brodie was a thorough teacher, acquainting her with the dependencies and their workings as well as every corner and crevice of the main house itself. She confessed herself only too glad to give the burden of management to Selah, as she hadn’t the strength of years past. She much preferred to sit with Candace, sewing and conversing, for they had much in common at their age and station in life.

  “Come, Daughter, and join us.” Candace set aside the linen shirt she was making and gestured to a chair. “You’ve been on your feet all day.”

  Selah obliged, taking in the river and landscape of late afternoon. Each hour gave Rose-n-Vale a different glow, a different mood. Now in the throes of midday, all was dry and sweltering, a bit testy.

  “I’ve not seen Nurse Lineboro for several hours.” Widow Brodie looked up from her knitting. “’Tis not like her to be away so long.”

  “Nurse has no charge to tend,” Selah answered, taking a cup of leftover wedding punch from the tray Izella brought. “Factor McCaskey mentioned he’s teaching her to ride.”

  “Oh? I didn’t think she cared much for horses.” Candace took her own cup. “But I suppose we’re all at loose ends, what with the fire and Oceanus being away.”

  “Rather bored, she is. But the factor can hardly spare the time for riding lessons, can he?” Widow Brodie’s face fell. “Not with so much rebuilding going on with the barns and the like. And then the ongoing search for Watseka.”

  “I suppose everyone needs a reprieve from their labors.” Candace brightened. “Might another romantic attachment be at hand beneath our very noses?”

  “Nonsense!” Widow Brodie shook her head. “Not between the nurse and factor, surely, though I did spy her dancing with Helion Laurent at the frolic more than once.”

  Selah listened without comment. She’d seen the same, but the physic had danced with several women that night, just not herself. As for the factor and Electa Lineboro, Selah had sensed a softening of late in the nurse’s regard of him. But with all that was happening, she’d not given it much thought.

  “Her tenure here is at an end.” Though Widow Brodie kept her tone light, Selah knew she’d had several run-ins with the nurse. “Alexander has sent for a Scots tutor. His arrival should coincide with Oceanus’s return from the Powhatans.”

  “You showed me the schoolroom this morning, down the north lane nearest the spinning house.” Selah’s mental map was quickly taking shape. Rose-n-Vale was expanding before their very eyes.

  “The tutor’s quarters are upstairs. Quite cozy and smelling of sawdust, ’tis so new. Alexander regrets his own lack of learning as a boy, being largely self-taught.”

  “Such a self-made man has little need of books, surely, and even less time to read them,” Candace replied.

  “I believe the library is changing for Oceanus’s benefit.”

  “I can attest to that.” Selah recalled her surprise as she’d unpacked two crates of books but an hour ago. “The shelves now bear primers, fairy tales, and fables.”

  “How glad I’ll be to have the boy back again.” Widow Brodie’s gaze settled on Selah. “And I trust he shall soon have a brother or sister. Twins run in the Renick family, did Alexander tell you?”

  Selah’s eyes rounded. Twins? “He did not. Perhaps he wants to surprise me. Thankfully, I have many hands to help with any newborns, including yours and Mother’s.”

  “How delighted your father would have been.” Candace continued to smile despite the sheen in her eyes. “Perhaps, if it’s a boy, you shall name him Ustis.”

  “Don’t forget the cradle in the attic.” Widow Brodie was equally delighted. “With the new wing we have plenty of room. Surely Shay shall stay on as well rather than return to Hopewell Hundred. He is but a boy yet, after all.”

  “His father’s death shall make a man of him.” Candace lost her easy air. “Xander spoke of sending word for him to return to us. But he won’t be told the sad news till he gets here. We shall tell him.”

  Wise, that. No need to burden Shay on the long journey back to them. Let him learn the hard facts surrounded by their love and care. Lord, let it be soon. Selah’s gaze strayed beyond the portico again, wishing Xander back, restless when he was away. The taint of smoke still hung in the air, the heavy odor of burned land surrounding them. Faint hoofbeats grew louder. Her heart rose like a lark in anticipation.

  “How is your arm, my dear?” Widow Brodie inquired. “I overheard Alexander say to expect the physic from Mount Malady. Might that be him now?”

  Her answer came as the factor rounded the house on a borrowed mount. He reined in before the portico. “Good day, ladies.”

  Widow Brodie asked the obvious. “Where on earth is Nurse Lineboro?”

  “Comfortable enough in the saddle that she’s enjoying a jaunt on her own while I return to work here. Namely to rebuild the main tobacco barn.”

  “We shan’t detain you, then.”

  Without another word he cantered down the lane past the dependencies to the fields beyond.

  “Fancy that, she’s out on her own. I expect my nephew to ride in next. ’Tis the hour he usually appears.”

  They fell quiet for a time, each lost in thought, Selah adjusting to the notion of twins. Oceanus would make a fine big brother no matter what the Almighty sent them. In the meantime, she’d seek out the cradle in the attic, see if it was big enough for two babes. Begin sewing tiny garments and pray for a babe to fill them.

  They’d not spoken of Watseka or which room might be hers. The omission bespoke a lack of confidence in her recovery, of hopelessness gaining the upper hand. Selah stared down at her unfinished punch, puzzling out where to house Shay. But for the moment the soreness in her heart was so acute she couldn’t grab hold of the joy before her.

  40

  This had been Selah’s dream of many months. Watching the sunset from Rose-n-Vale’s portico with Xander by her side. Breathing in the sights and sounds of the estate as it settled. The faint whiff of smoke from the summer kitchen. The lowing of a milk cow in the pasture. The doves in their nest beneath the portico eave. Tonight the sunset was a spectacular firestorm of russets and gold, heralding the coming autumn.

  But where exactly was her husband?

  She journeyed down the lane to look for him, past the dependencies where maids and stable hands milled about in the twilight, Ruby and Jett at her side. The dogs seemed to be leading, she merely following. Did they know where their master was? Xander had left after supper to meet with a party of indentures who’d returned from searching for Watseka. But that was two hours ago.

  Down the hill she went toward the smalle
st tobacco barn. It sat beside a scorched field, the only barn unscathed by the blaze. There she found him, an alarming sight with his rapier, fencing with an imaginary opponent. She entered quietly behind him and pressed her back against the barn’s rough wood. The dogs, ever obedient except when it came to Widow Brodie, sat on their haunches and watched him too.

  On guard. Advance. Lunge. Parry.

  For being tall, he was remarkably quick on his feet. She all but shivered at the whistle of the sword as it sliced the air. Her father had spoken of Xander’s skill. He’d been trained by a fencing master from the first supply in his youth. She’d come across books by fencing masters in his study. But she’d not thought to see him at practice. It seemed to bode ill.

  He turned and walked toward her. The rapier glinted in the fading light.

  “You are very skilled,” she said, a bit awed.

  “And you are very biased.” He sheathed his weapon and cupped her elbow, leading her out into fresh air.

  “Why have you returned to fencing?”

  “I am rusty as an old sword.” His smile was thin. “And I promised to teach Oceanus upon his return home.”

  Was that all? She prayed so. She discarded the worry as they walked uphill to the house. “’Tis been my dream to watch the sunset with you . . . and the dogs.”

  “You are a long-suffering woman.” He glanced at the dogs fondly as they jockeyed for position beside him. “Little wonder they adore you.”

  They stepped onto the portico, two chairs awaiting them. The rest of the household was abed. Lost in the luxury of aloneness, Selah took a seat, savoring the remaining sunset as it melted onto the horizon.

  He reached for her hand. “Now seems the time to ask you if a move to the new wing would be favorable. Our present bedchamber would become your mother’s. The dormer room the nurse occupies would be Shay’s.”

  “A wonderful plan.” The very thought cheered her. “I overheard Factor McCaskey say he’ll be sailing with your first tobacco shipment. I thought he and the nurse might make a match. He seems fond of her and has openly teased her about returning to Scotland with him.”

  He looked toward the river all ashimmer with the last of daylight. “Which brings me to another matter that will likely make you blush.”

  She returned her gaze to him, overwarm already.

  “’Twould seem Hopewell Hundred has become a trysting place. I was there earlier today after another search when Laurent appeared and then Nurse Lineboro.”

  Her sharp intake of breath caused Ruby to raise her head, looking sleepy-eyed. “They are . . . a couple?”

  “I didn’t stay to find out. But aye, they did meet. Thankfully I remained out of sight, though Jett did growl when Laurent first appeared.”

  “Oh, Xander . . .” Selah kept her voice to a whisper, though she hardly knew what to say. “What a riddle this is.”

  “Keep the matter between us. We shall bide our time and see how it plays out. That they are hand in glove is now apparent, but we cannot ken what that signifies. Not yet.”

  “Regarding Watseka, you mean. And the firing of your property.”

  “Aye. Thus far their trespassing at Hopewell Hundred is all we have.”

  “Earlier today McCaskey returned alone, saying he’d given the nurse a riding lesson and she chose to continue without him. She must have met up with Laurent next.” She looked at him, knowing he was far more schooled to worldly ways than she. “Might it be a love triangle?”

  “I suspect. Though I believe the nurse is the only one aware of it. I’d wager both McCaskey and Laurent are in the dark.”

  “She’s in a hard place. A woman alone.” Should they not give her the benefit of the doubt? “She seems . . . shrewd. Discontent. Perhaps she’s simply undecided which suitor to choose.”

  “What a rosy picture you paint.” Their eyes met, his skeptical. “Though I don’t want to belittle her without cause, I feel to my marrow there’s more afoot.”

  Selah squeezed his hand. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open and my mouth shut.”

  They sat in silence for a time. Fireflies winged around them, tiny lights in the gloaming. Thankful as she was for this shallow moment of tranquility, all she wanted was an end to this uncertainty, the endless searches and speculations.

  Turning her hand over, he kissed her palm. “For now, why not do a little trysting of our own?”

  She smiled, only too glad to return to the matter of their honeymoon. “Is it true there are twins in your family?”

  With a wink, he stood, bringing her to her feet. “Let’s find out.”

  For the present, all else was forgotten.

  Early the next morn a wagon was sent to Hopewell Hundred to bring beloved belongings and furnishings to Rose-n-Vale. Indentures roamed the main house, carrying furniture up and down stairs, turning all topsy-turvy, and the maids scurried about with feather dusters. Pulled a dozen different directions, Selah was happy to supervise her and Xander’s nest in the new wing. As there were a great many more windows, she rejoiced. Drapes were hung, sofas and chairs and tables rearranged in the blue-and-white parlor adjoining their first-floor bedchamber.

  All the while her mind remained on the possible love triangle. Standing on a stool, hanging a framed piece of art, she paid little attention when a maid said, “Mistress Renick, would you like this small clock on the mantel or here on this side table?”

  Stepping off the stool, still trying to grow accustomed to her new name, Selah said, “On the table, please. I believe Master Renick wants the Venetian mirror hung over the mantel.”

  Beyond the window glass came a flurry of movement in the peach orchard. Selah paused as the maids went out again to bring more items from upstairs. Was that . . . the nurse? She moved toward the window, keeping to one side so she wouldn’t be seen.

  There, in the heart of the orchard, stood Electa Lineboro with McCaskey. Her arms were raised as if to strike him, but his hands encircled her wrists, preventing it. She tried to pull free, but he held fast, easily overpowering her. Anger stiffened his every move, and though she fought back, even kicking him in the shin, he pulled her behind a fully leafed tree, hiding them both from view.

  Was she hurt? In danger? Selah hurried out a side door and all but ran toward the peach trees, then drew up just as abruptly. Down one particularly leafy row the nurse and factor were locked in a heated embrace, as if their fighting of minutes before was naught but playacting.

  Stunned, feeling hoodwinked, Selah backtracked to the main house on fast feet, nearly colliding with Widow Brodie as she entered the hall.

  Exasperation showed on her aged face. “Last night a thief got into the henhouse. We’ve no eggs this day. And Cook says two prized Nankin chickens are missing.”

  “The same thief that robbed the smokehouse, perhaps.”

  “’Twould seem so.”

  “But the dogs—”

  “Out with a search party, the both of them. Alexander takes nary a precaution, not even a simple padlock on the smokehouse door. Why, I cannot fathom. Betimes I think an armed guard is needed for all this trouble of late.”

  “Glad I am we’ve brought our poultry from Hopewell Hundred.” Selah gestured toward the new wing to distract her. “Come see all we’ve done this day.”

  Despite Selah’s satisfaction at all they’d accomplished, she could not wash her mind of what she’d stumbled upon in the orchard. Yet what did it signify? Nothing more nefarious than a heated, stolen kiss? Had Nurse Lineboro shifted her affections from physic to factor?

  When another search party turned up empty-handed in late afternoon, Selah received the news with spirits that could sink no further. Her memories of Watseka were still keen, but she feared in time they would wane like the passing of seasons, once bright but eventually turning to rust. Her ready, toothless smile. Her joyful laugh. How she’d lit up their home with her irrepressible, pint-sized self.

  Lord, wilt Thou not help?

  Every hour lost seemed anot
her sad, delayed answer. Still, Selah met Xander at the riverfront door before supper with a brave face, vowing to welcome him home with a smile despite what the day dealt them.

  Xander freshened up at the washstand, changed into a new linen shirt, and looked approvingly at the way Selah had arranged their bed and furnishings. Though he was little concerned with such matters, he admired her feminine touch. The tang of sawdust lingered, though all had been swept up and a colorful Persian carpet covered the pine floor. When he stepped into the adjoining parlor where she waited, ready to escort her to the dining room, she surprised him yet again.

  “We’ll dine alone here tonight.”

  His shoulders eased. Did she ken he craved time with her apart from the others? Surely she shared that same desire. ’Twas their honeymoon, after all.

  Twin tapers shone gentle light upon a small supper table dressed with dishes he’d not seen before. From Hopewell Hundred, likely.

  “I could get used to this.” He sat, looking across at her as she poured him applejack. Her wedding ring shone gold on her slender hand. She wore a pale blue gown he liked nearly as much as her purple one. “So, tell me, why are we alone?”

  She smiled, allaying his concern. “Nurse Lineboro pled a headache and is in her room. Mother and your aunt claim the heat has stolen their appetite.”

  He nodded. “And McCaskey is laboring till dark with the indentures on another barn.”

  The parlor door opened, and Izella came in on quiet feet, to serve them chicken fricassee left from midday dinner, stewed pumpkin, and corncakes. Selah kindly waited till he’d finished eating to say, “I’m sorry to report a thief has struck the henhouse.”

  He swallowed the news along with his supper. “Mayhap a fox.”

  “Your aunt believes ’tis no animal. She wanted me to ask you about tethering Ruby and Jett to both the smokehouse and henhouse.”

  “Nay.”

  She looked at him, inquiring.