by Betty Bolte
"Walter, please." Evelyn's lukewarm voice stopped him. "I want her to stay."
Walter glared at Evelyn, the heat in his eyes dissipating as though doused by a summer shower. His rigid shoulders slumped as he shook his head slowly. "I don't like it, but if you truly want her to stay, then I suppose I'll allow it. For now."
Amy didn't relax her stance despite his apparent relenting. "Samantha, what do you need? Can I help you?"
"I will need you later, but not at the moment." She turned her attention back to the ill woman.
Evelyn peered around Samantha's shoulders. "Please stay, Amy."
Not that she needed permission to remain and assist her own sister, but hearing the plea in Evelyn's weak voice strengthened Amy's wavering resolve. She gazed at Walter, trying to fathom his mood, to predict his reaction to her presence. Feeling unwelcome by him, but needed nevertheless, she vowed to help any way she could.
Nothing and no one could drag her away now.
* * *
The gray stallion trotted steadily toward the estate. Wisps of fog slithered in front of Benjamin, their undulations obscuring the uneven road. Glimpses of the sun, a pale, luminous disc, appeared and disappeared behind eddies of fog. Benjamin wanted to pick up a canter but feared for the safety of the animal beneath him. Any harm to Icarus would not bode well for his chances with Amy. She had worked closely with her father to improve the pedigrees of the stable. Bringing their best stallion back injured would seal his fate for certain. Besides, he'd need the animal to carry them swiftly back to town.
Finally the stone and wood house came into view, shrouded by the vestiges of the morning fog. Relief fringed with elation rushed within Benjamin at the sight, his destination mere moments away. He imagined Amy running into his arms, smiling her joy at his surprise appearance. Perhaps welcoming him with the pleasure of her kiss. Surely after all the time they'd spent apart, she'd rejoice in his compulsion to return to her side.
Surveying the house, the beginnings of a shiver of apprehension rattled his certainty. With the mist twined around the house like Medusa's hair, shifting and heaving, he understood why Amy only reluctantly agreed to stay within its walls. Convincing her to ride back to town should be easy as a result of the depressing atmosphere surrounding the house. The strange contrast of the shimmering marble Pegasus statue against the plank-sided home added to the mystery. He reined in the still-fresh horse and dismounted amid the barking hounds. Before he finished tying off the reins to the hitching post, the front door opened and a young black woman greeted him.
He quickly introduced himself and explained why he'd arrived so early in the morning. "Is Miss Abernathy available?"
"No, sir, she's not come down yet."
"I see." Disappointment rippled through him as he strode to the bottom of the steps. He pulled off his riding gloves and slapped them against the palm of his hand. So much for wishful imaginings. A sliver of impatience sliced through him. "In the event, I'll wait for her to rise."
"The master is at breakfast. Come in and have some hot coffee to warm yourself." Belinda opened the door and held it in silent invitation.
Moments later Benjamin paused inside the foyer, quickly taking note of the house's plan, its closed doors on the first floor, and sorting out in his mind's eye which ones likely led to exits versus rooms. Out of habit he noticed the polished but scarred pine boards pegged in place as the floor and the elegant chairs and side table gracing the entry. With some surprise, he saw thick wood boards fastened by freshly oiled hinges that would swing them into place on the inside of the front door. Walter appeared to be preparing for a siege, but by whom? Perhaps he already knew about the renegades.
He followed the petite woman to the dining room, where breakfast sat out on a buffet huddled into a recessed floor-length window. A massive trestle table stood in the center of the room, with cane-bottom chairs flanking each side. A branched candlestick hung above, its candles nearly spent but providing adequate light in the early dawn. Walter sat at the head of the burnished table, Emily seated to his right facing the door.
"Benjamin, what a pleasant surprise!" Emily smiled at him as she raised questioning eyebrows. "What brings you here?"
"Miss Amy draws me to her side." He half bowed to Emily. Several place settings and empty chairs waited for the others to appear for breakfast.
"Of course." Emily sipped her coffee from a china cup, eyes filled with mirth.
Walter rose, dropping his napkin on the table. He stood about six feet, with massive shoulders and exuding confident strength. Not a man to be ignored or taken lightly.
Walter extended a hand. "I've heard many good things about you, sir. It's my honor to meet you."
Benjamin firmly shook the man's hand, comparing his impression with Amy's sentiments about the man. She'd made it quite clear her disdain and disrespect toward her sister's husband. Walter appeared a little rough around the edges, but sincere and straightforward in his manner. Of course, looks could mislead. He'd reserve judgment until he knew Walter better. "My pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Hamilton."
"Please, sir, you flatter me with such formality. Call me Walter."
"As you wish." Benjamin nodded, then addressed Emily. "Miss Emily, how are you this dismal day?"
Emily glanced at Walter as she dabbed at her mouth. "We had a very trying time of it, I'm afraid. Amy and Samantha stayed up most of the night trying to settle poor Evelyn's stomach."
"I'm distressed to hear she's been ill. I trust she's resting comfortably now?" He swallowed his unease. Amy must heed his warning and ride with him posthaste for town. She should appreciate any excuse to leave this place, surely. The urgency the general had pressed upon him coupled with his worry over the ancient wonders of the museum weighed on his shoulders. Add to those concerns his desperate need to protect her from harm.
"As well as expected." Emily motioned to a chair across the table from hers. "My manners are lacking. Please join us."
"I'd enjoy a nice cup of hot coffee indeed, but...." Benjamin dragged the fragile-looking chair out and leaned his hands on the back. "Walter, may I ask if you have a stable hand to tend to my horse? Otherwise I'll excuse myself to see to his needs first."
Walter swiped his napkin over his mouth and nodded. "I'll have Belinda fetch her brother Adam to care for the animal. Sit; enjoy a bite of breakfast with us."
Emily's startled expression suggested this was not normal behavior for the man, but he seemed pleasant enough, despite Amy's impression rattling around in his head. Her imagination had carried her away yet again. Based on her previous tales, Walter acted an ogre who beat his wife, kept her from her family, and lived in a hideously evil house.
"Belinda!" Walter picked up his knife, and holding it like a flag, rapped the handle on the table four times. "Your horse will be taken care of in short order."
"Much appreciated. You have a nice place here." Looking around him, Benjamin noted fine furnishings, elegant drapes, and delicate china on the table. He refrained from shaking his head. Securing Amy safely as his wife, under his supervision and guidance, became all the more important in view of her errant ways. A good wife must act like a mature woman, not playing games and creating fantasies. His mother exemplified the ideal wife in his view, a lady through and through who brooked no nonsense from her children, who cooked and cared for her family without complaint. His mother constantly worked to keep the household running smoothly for her family. Amy surely could learn to be such a woman once she settled down into married life.
"Kind of you to say so. This house has been in my family for two generations." He sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders in such a way as to inflate the size of his chest.
Belinda scurried into the room, smoothing her skirts as her steps halted beside the table. "Yes sir?"
"Get Adam to care for this good man's horse and be quick. I'll not have him lazing about, you hear?"
She bobbed a curtsy. "Yes sir. Will that be all?"
"Yes."
He waved a hand, shooing her from the room. "Servants must be kept in their place to keep order."
Benjamin shrugged off the gruff treatment Walter levied on his servants. He'd seen far worse behavior by more genteel men. Perhaps Walter's brusque manner rankled with Amy's sensibilities.
"Help yourself, Benjamin." Emily flourished a hand toward the buffet. "Walter is short of staff like so many others in these times."
"That situation will change once the British remove themselves from our shores." Benjamin strode to the buffet, his boots echoing on the pine floor. The meager selection of foods nevertheless was artfully arranged on plates decorated with drawings of bunches of grapes and cherries. Hard-cooked quail eggs, likely freshly gathered and boiled, filled a matching bowl. Slices of ham and cheese spiraled on one plate, while wedges of apple filled another.
"How do you mean?" Walter slathered butter on a slice of warm bread. "The blacks are fleeing whenever you turn your back for an instant. I'm fortunate that Belinda and her brother chose to stay with us rather than seek their destiny elsewhere."
Benjamin noticed Emily flinch as he returned to the table. Not all slaves ran away given the opportunity, but many had. From their perspective he would have fled to freedom, too. Slavery itself existed at least as far back as biblical times, but it posed a contradiction for a country founded on the ideal of independence. In fact, he believed a huge difference lay between a nation's independence and the concept of personal freedom, but he accepted the fact that most people did not appreciate the subtlety.
"Father's servants have remained thus far. But then their families are all in this area." Emily daintily bit into her buttered brown bread.
"They go now, but when that avenue of escape ends once and for all, the slave owners will act to stop them from going." Benjamin sat carefully on the cane-bottom chair, concerned its spindly legs would prove no match for his bulk. Although Walter seemed comfortable enough on his. He settled back, the wood creaking beneath him. He lifted his cup and tasted the hot brew.
The sound of footsteps outside the dining room drew his attention. A whiff of Amy's perfume preceded her, setting his heart beating faster. He replaced the cup in the saucer and then none too gently pushed back his chair and rose to greet her as she entered.
"Benjamin." A growing tension stiffened her body as she paused in the door.
Her eyes appeared tired and red, and her hand trembled when she grasped the lace handkerchief tucked into the bodice of her dress. He found her little nervous habit endearing, and awakening emotions deep within him. How many times had he longed to remove that bit of lace and feast his eyes on the silky valley it hid?
"Miss Amy." He grasped her hand and raised it to his kiss. "I've come for you at last." Kissing her fingers, he inhaled her unique fragrance, relishing being with her.
She slipped her hand from his, her eyes sliding away to greet Emily before turning back to him. No relief shone in her eyes. No welcome. She regarded him coolly. "Indeed."
She left him standing there, feeling foolish, as she went to the buffet and prepared her breakfast without another word.
He hesitated, torn between the desire to trail after her and that of remaining aloof and in control.
Emily cleared her throat, drawing his attention away from Amy's back. "Your coffee is cooling." Her steady gaze recommended he be patient.
What did she know about the situation? He chose to ignore her, tugging his vest down into place as he watched Amy select a thick slice of bread.
"Benjamin," Emily said, drawing his eyes back to her, "please eat." She cut a bite of quail egg and popped it into her mouth.
Amy glanced at him and then glided to her chair across from his. Defeated, he slowly sat back down and sipped from the cup of coffee. Emily had poured more into the cup while Amy distracted him, and the liquid churned in his empty stomach.
"Benjamin, what brings you out here so early this morning?" Walter slathered yellow butter on yet another slice of bread.
Amy kept her eyes on her plate, but her movements slowed, indicating she listened intently.
"Colonel Scarsdale made an important announcement last week, one that increases the chance of violent retaliation and looting by the British troops as they prepare to evacuate the city." Benjamin kept his eyes on Walter but watched Amy's actions at the side of his vision.
"Is the war finally over then?" Walter laid down his knife, eyes intent on Benjamin.
"It appears to be, all but the acts of signing the peace treaty and evacuating His Majesty's troops."
"When might that happen?" Emily fisted her napkin and gazed at him with hopeful eyes.
"As soon as conditions allow them to leave the harbor. But between now and then they will scavenge for any items of value they can lay their hands upon." He willed Amy to look at him, and finally she rewarded him by lifting her eyes to meet his. The force of her gaze sent a shock racing through him, stirring a reaction below his belt. Shifting to be more comfortable, he held her stare for a moment.
"But how does that impact us out here?" Amy regarded him, one hand poised above her plate, a bite of ham waiting. "Surely the Britons will not harm us so far from town. They'll be busy preparing to evacuate."
"Clearly you do not fathom the reality of the matter." When Amy merely stared at him, realization dawned as to the extent of the situation before him. He nearly let out a loud breath in annoyance. He checked the reflex. He needed to address the fact that Amy wasn't the only one in danger. Ideas popped into his head and he dismissed several before nodding. A simple solution. "I have come to take the girls back to town where I can keep them safe."
A startled silence followed his pronouncement.
"We are safe here." Samantha strode into the room and made straight for the sideboard.
Benjamin rose to greet her, and she waved him back into his seat. As he resettled himself, he noted Walter had not moved from where he sat crunching on a slice of apple.
"Yes, more so than we'd be in town at any rate." Emily looked from one person to another. "So many soldiers still roam the streets, after all."
"Besides, we cannot move Evelyn." Amy held knife and fork poised to slice through the ham. "I won't leave her here alone. She needs help until the baby arrives, and for a span after."
"She has me." Walter laid his hands flat on the table at either side of his plate. "I can take care of her."
Why did Walter brace himself as he spoke about his wife? Benjamin recognized the defensive nature, an insecurity, exemplified in Walter's behavior.
Amy darted a glance at Walter, then returned her gaze to Benjamin. "That's my fear."
Her mouth formed a stubborn pout as her eyes reflected her concern. What had occurred here to provoke such a statement? Amy glanced at Walter with unease plain in her expression, her distrust of the man evident. Despite himself, Benjamin tensed at the idea of Amy living under the same roof as Walter.
"I know how to defend myself, so I'll stay." Samantha placed her napkin in her lap. "More to the point, Evelyn will deliver any day now, and she'll need me."
Walter looked like he wanted to say something but held his thoughts in check. His brow lowered as he dipped his bread into his coffee. Walter did not act as refined in character as his appearance first suggested. More pieces to the puzzle fell into place, but still some holes remained before Benjamin formed an opinion of him.
"You'll need help with running this place." Emily laid her napkin on the table, her eyes steady on Samantha. "I'm accomplished at that, so I will stay to assist."
Seeing where this was leading, Benjamin made an effort to change the conversation's course. "In the event, Miss Amy stays with me." He spoke with less conviction than earlier as his resolve wilted under the arguments put forth by the women surrounding him. "I can't stay away from town long, not only because Captain Sullivan expects me to ensure the museum collection is not touched, but also because Amy's father requested I bring my fiancée back posthaste."
A femi
nine gasp drew his eyes to Amy's startled expression. Damnation. Too late, he realized his error as, in rhythm with three blinks, her stubborn expression shifted to surprise, then anger.
"Pardon me?" Her eyebrows arched over wide eyes. "You are engaged? To whom, pray tell?"
The set of her jaw dared him to say what he must in order to tell the truth of the matter. An attack of cotton mouth forced him to try to swallow as he searched for the proper response. How crass could he be, blurting out his bald intent? His carefully prepared speech blown apart by his own foolish words. Again, words had tripped him up and left him floundering. Yet, his mother would be proud of him for sticking to the facts, even if they created an awkward moment. He heaved a sigh. Nothing for it but the bare truth. "I spoke with your parents a few days ago, and they agreed..."
"Stop." Amy, face red, held up a hand as though warding off a blow. "Pray, don't tell me my parents actually negotiated with you for my hand?"
Chapter 9
Silence followed her question. Anger warred with intense disappointment, leaving Amy quaking in her chair. She clenched her jaw so hard a headache blossomed in her temple. Forcing her muscles to relax, she stared at the man she swore to never marry. Not after all the heartache he'd caused her. How dare he go to her parents? Worse, how dare they promise her to him? The days of arranged marriages had passed. Or had they?
"Darling, hear me," Ben said. "We only want the best for you."
"I believe, sir, I have a say in what that entails." She carefully laid her utensils on her plate. Her last bite of egg refused to settle, preferring to tumble in her stomach. She swallowed, but the knot in her throat stubbornly held fast.
"You've been out of touch with the rapid changes in town." Ben reached out to grasp her hand across the linen cloth. "To ensure your safety, it's imperative you return to town with me, sweetheart."
"Do not address me so." Amy threw her napkin on the table and jumped up from her chair, rocking it precariously onto its back legs before it thumped to the floor. "I'll not go with you, and I'll not marry you. You have no right to claim such privilege." The chills sweeping through her left her shaken.