Dominion (29 page)

Before she could answer, her brother Eli came and took her by the elbow, neither looking at Caleum nor avoiding him, simply leading his
sister away without another word. Libbie did not resist, but she felt a sinking in her breast as she moved away, like a jewel falling to the bottom of the ocean. Caleum felt this loss as well, when she left their conversation, but his was twinged by renewed anger at her brothers.

That evening, when all the guests finally left the Johnson home, he was still in turmoil as he headed back to Stonehouses with Magnus and Adelia.

Seeing him still out of sorts the next day, Magnus tried to comfort the young man.

Adelia, however, could tell immediately what else was bothering him. “I don't think it's just Bastian that has him feeling so,” she said. Magnus was about to ask what she meant when the statement made itself clear in his head. He laughed slightly and shook his head. He was going to tell Caleum not to go falling for the first girl he met but thought better of intervening.

“Who is she?” Magnus asked.

“Libbie Darson,” Caleum answered quietly.

“I thought you had strife with the brothers,” Magnus reminded him.

“The brothers ain't the sister,” he answered.

“All the same. Are you old enough to court, in any case?” Magnus asked next, giving Caleum the chance to think about the question.

“It doesn't all have to happen all at once,” Caleum answered. “We can take our time about it.”

“Do you want to court her then?” Magnus wanted to know, trying to determine in his head the advantages and minuses that particular union might make.

“I need to think about it some more. I will let you know what I decide, if you trust me to,” Caleum said, being both straightforward and mature with his uncle, to the relief of Magnus and Adelia. “I understand what is involved.”

He was not so moody in love as his uncle and father had been, but forward and direct as his grandfather. He did, however, wonder to himself, even as he rode into town to meet her the next day, whether he ought not turn back and seek someone more prudent to give his affection to, or perhaps wait until a later time to do so.

Their meeting, when it occurred, was exceedingly short and formal and without hesitations. They met at the northeastern corner of the square and began a conversation of pleasantries, followed by Caleum
telling her that his parents had left him as a child in the care of his uncle and grandfather, that his ambition in life was only to increase the success of Stonehouses, that he liked fishing to relax, and his favorite meal was spring rack of lamb.

She responded that she was learned in reading and writing, as he knew; she was also a good sewer and needleworker, and that her mother already let her have a sizable hand in running their house. She was bright in her disposition, as he always remembered her being, and if she had any pressing concerns she did not let on.

By the time they arrived in front of old Content's place, on the southwest corner of the square, they concluded their conversation, and Caleum went home afterward to tell his uncle he did indeed wish to enter a courtship with Libbie Darson.

When Magnus received the news he was very worried and not at all approving as Caleum had hoped. In fact he told his nephew he thought it foolish. No matter how mature Caleum was in many ways, seventeen was uncommonly young to begin a courtship, and he did not want his nephew to live to regret a youthful decision, made in haste, about something so important as who he shared his heart and home with. Out of respect for the young man, however, in the end he concluded that it would be best if they both considered it overnight and reconvened in the morning.

Adelia, being more romantic about such things, claimed it was possible that Caleum, young as he was, simply knew his mind in that way already. “Or would you rather he go about it as you and your brother did?” she asked her husband pointedly, as they lay in bed that night.

“I think you should better hold your tongue now,” Magnus said in reply, being unusually harsh with her, especially as theirs was a relationship in which love, when it was finally allowed to flow between then, did so without cease.

All the same, trusting her judgment, he found himself swayed by the argument, and not unrelieved the next morning when Caleum said his mind had not shifted during the night. After breakfast, then Magnus saddled his horse and went alone to call on Solomon Darson, Libbie's father.

Mr. Darson was not much in touch with the domestic goings-on of his house and was surprised when Magnus announced his purpose. Still, it was a pleasant shock, and he was happy to receive the visit, for his
daughter was at a suitable age and Stonehouses was quite a desirable place. Magnus then offered terms, should the courtship end in marriage, and named the dowry he expected in return. He could not help adding a premium to the amount, both because of Caleum's tender age as well as the size of his eventual inheritance. Mr. Darson, who was normally quite garrulous and loved nothing so much as to argue and bargain, grew quiet when he heard the price but agreed quickly, if not enthusiastically—because he understood in the end how he was benefiting. He also delighted in his ability to pay such a fee.

Magnus concluded by telling Solomon Darson he thought a long courtship might be best, as Caleum was still young. Mr. Darson, who was more than a little obsequious toward Magnus, agreed that the courtship should be as long as he said, and offered his guest a drink in celebration, which Magnus declined.

His terms settled, Magnus stood to leave without ceremony, but confident in his position as the stronger party in the negotiations, and asked for his horse to be brought out from the stable. Before he left, however, not wanting to give offense, he thought to make a bow to Mrs. Darson and shake hands with her husband in front of her, warmly enough that they seemed like old friends who had just finished dinner instead of a business deal.

When he returned home Magnus called Caleum into the parlor and told him he was free to begin courting Libbie. Caleum, when he heard, sat up in his seat very straight. Instead of fear, which Magnus had been half expecting and half hoping to see on his face, the young man seemed self-assured and smiled at his uncle as he thanked him. “I know you don't think I'm ready yet, sir, but I am.”

“I still think you would be better served to take your time with all of it. If she has your heart, it won't go anywhere.”

“I'm not anxious about that,” Caleum said precociously.

Looking at him in that moment Magnus saw the same confidence Purchase had always carried with himself and was proud of his nephew that he had inherited that quality.

“All the same, it's my business to shepherd your affairs, and I would be failing you in that if I advised otherwise.”

Caleum, ever dutiful, could see then how much his uncle had worked to be a good guardian and felt himself lucky to have such a parent in
place of his own, who had abandoned him. Still, he knew his own mind and thought himself well prepared for the next phase of shepherding and guarding himself as well as a wife.

He called on Libbie at the end of the week, riding his horse through the tumult of autumn colors as first frost descended into the valley from higher up. When he came up the narrow way to their house, Libbie, who was in the parlor, saw him and left in an excited rush to prepare herself. It was no coincidence she was at the window, which had no glass, only wooden shutters, and still stood open at just that time. She had been lurking about there the entire four days since Mr. Merian had come to see her father.

When Caleum knocked at the front door, Mr. Darson himself opened it and welcomed the young man into the house. The two of them entered the parlor together, and the entire family was there. Caleum greeted each in turn, even Eli and George, though more distantly.

Similarly, George and Eli were forced to defer to Caleum when they saw their father treated him like a grown man and equal while he still treated them like boys. It did not sit well with them, but they were without power to affect the situation for the time being.

“Libbie, why don't you show Caleum your embroidery,” Mrs. Darson recommended, after he had sat down. “Libbie is very accomplished at needlecraft and sewing.”

The girl, suddenly shy, smiled downward and sat without moving for a moment, before gathering herself to go off and fetch the things her mother suggested. She returned with a square piece of cloth she had decorated for a pillow.

When Caleum saw it, he thought it was artful indeed and complimented her on it. “It is so pretty,” he said, looking her in the face until she turned her head downward again. “It's going to make the prettiest pillow in the whole county.” He looked at her for a response, as she continued to smile into her own lap for embarrassment of looking at him directly.

“Why don't we all leave them so they can talk together a spell,” Mr. Darson told his sons, standing from his own seat.

Caleum stood until the family had left the room. When he and Libbie were alone, he sat down again closer to her. “How did you learn to embroider so well?” he asked, grown more awkward when they were left alone.

“It only comes to me,” she answered. “For each piece of fabric, I think what it most reminds of, then try to fashion that.”

“Well, it sure is something,” Caleum told her. “I could never do such a thing myself.”

“You yourself must make something, though,” she replied modestly. “Everybody makes something.”

“No, not me. I don't have the eye for it.”

“Well, I bet you'll make a good planter,” she said. “That is something that requires knowing a great deal. Maybe not everyone's talent after all is to create, but that some people have a talent for shepherding, which is just as necessary.”

“Perhaps,” Caleum replied, impressed with her good sense. “I think the two together must complement each other handsomely.”

Libbie could not help but turn away again.

When she did so, Caleum reached out and briefly took her hand. She turned her attention directly to him after that, and they stared straight into each other's eyes, until Mrs. Darson returned to the room. Caleum quickly stood up again when he saw her in the doorway.

“It has been very nice visiting with you, Mr. Merian,” she said, coming into the middle of the room, where she stood like an immovable pillar.

“Yes, I must get back now. May I return next week?”

“Please do,” Libbie said, then quickly looked to her mother.

“Yes, we would enjoy that,” Mrs. Darson affirmed.

Caleum was happy then as both women wished him a pleasant ride back to Stonehouses. On the way he dreamed of the home he would create with Libbie, and all the comforts and security it would contain. That will be my great talent, he told himself, to make a home like Stonehouses for my own wife and children. As he thought this he began to think of his parents. He spurred his horse then into a fast gallop, wanting to burn away the memory of rejection.

It was over ten years since he had last seen them, and he could barely recall either in his own mind, except for the gossip he sometimes heard—
for the story of his parents had become notorious in those parts and was even known on the seas. He knew his love for Libbie was not like theirs but a thing patterned after itself that he was very glad for. Still, he was careful when he daydreamed of his intended that it was temperate, and not feverish as he knew devotion could sometimes be, when its heat consumed both self and host.

Caleum and Libbie's courtship was not long, as the older people, excepting Mr. Darson, would have preferred, but barely a year in duration. The spring after he started wooing her Caleum persuaded Magnus that he was set to see things through to their formal conclusion. Magnus, wary but trusting his nephew to know his own mind by then, accepted the decision without debate and informed Solomon Darson he was free to publicize the engagement and ensuing marriage, which they agreed to have six weeks hence at the Darson place.

Magnus and Caleum spent the rest of that month taking long rides together, to survey the land and search out the best spot to put up a new house. Caleum in his heart had already set on a place about a mile from the main building, overlooking the valley, which he thought might keep Libbie from homesickness. Magnus overuled the idea, however, telling him it would not be good soil for his crops or good grazing for his animals. He led him instead around to a place on the southern side of the lake that sat up on a small rise, lower but almost identical to the one Stonehouses itself occupied.

“This is the second-best land,” he said. “You take it and never worry for dependency, on the main house or anybody else.”

“I don't fear that so much as being apart from it,” Caleum answered, full of appreciation and gratitude for his uncle's gesture—for he knew it was the best land but would never have presumed to try and claim it.

Magnus was pleased then that he had been given a good son and proud that they had managed a bond between them that was not only filled with warmth but also with respect and mutual understanding.

“Your father would be very pleased for you,” Magnus told him, putting onto his brother what he himself felt, as they rode back to the stable. Caleum was silent in response, and Magnus allowed him to remain so but only added, “You must never think ill of him. You cannot judge them.”

“No, sir,” Caleum replied.

In truth he sometimes thought his father the meanest man in the world, and at other times greater than everything else he knew, and both feelings made larger from their seed by his absence. No matter his thoughts, however, he never spoke ill of either his parents, neither when alone nor with others, as he would not dream of giving voice to such personal inner grievance.

They returned to the house at suppertime, to find Merian, who sometimes but very seldom still joined them for meals, at the table.