Elizabeth Meyette (16 page)

Sitting up, she felt stronger, determined to face what life had presented and to ascertain the best path for herself and her baby. Unyielding resolve filled her, and she knew that lying here feeling sorry for herself was ill-advised. And she certainly would not be held captive in her room in order to avoid Jonathon or Deidre. She had once made the mistake of believing Brentwood Manor was not her home, and that had brought about disastrous results. Brentwood Manor
was
her home and she was its mistress. No one would take that from her.

She rose and stood before her dressing table shocked at how severely her red, swollen her eyes contrasted with her pale skin. She dampened a cloth with water from the ewer and held it over her eyes, its coolness revitalizing her. She freshened up and brushed her hair, each stroke of the brush strengthening her resolve. The baby stretched and kicked and, despite her misery, she smiled inwardly at this child to whom she had already lost her heart.

Donning a plum colored frock, she noted how it brightened her lavender-blue eyes. She fluffed the lace that cascaded out of the sleeves and lay across her bodice. All of her frocks strained across her bosom and mid-section as her pregnancy added voluptuous curves to her body. She pinched her cheeks to heighten their color and dabbed jasmine scent at her throat and wrists. She would not cower in terror, afraid to leave her room. No, Deidre would not prevail. Sweeping her hair up into combs studded with pearls, she straightened her shoulders and opened her bedroom door. If she was to confront Jonathon this morning, she would look her best.

On entering the dining room, she saw that some had already partaken of their breakfast. As she approached the sideboard, the sight of ham, eggs, biscuits and fruit made her stomach lurch, and she knew the despair that possessed her was thinly disguised by her bravado. Taking a biscuit and some honey, she poured a cup of tea and sat down. She needed a plan for facing both Jonathon and Deidre for the first time after last night’s revelations. Staring out at the gardens, she pondered her options. Despite her sorrow at his infidelity, deep within she knew her love for Jonathon conquered any trial they encountered, and, if she were honest with herself, she wanted desperately to see him this morning.

David and Joanna entered the dining room interrupting her musings. Joanna took in Emily’s appearance and knew that her spirit had overcome her despair. She walked over to her chair and embraced her sister-in-law.

“How are you feeling this morning, Emily?” she asked.

“A bit drained, but I am well, Joanna,” she replied. The question she wanted to ask burned within her
Was Jonathon still here?
As if he had heard it, David sat in the chair beside her and took her hand.

“Emily, Jonathon left last night. British patrols have been pursuing him; he risked his life to come here and ensure that you and your baby were safe and well,” David said, his smile gentle.

Disappointment caused Emily’s heart to plunge. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded through her tears.

“Emily, Jonathon wants me to explain everything to you, but I will wait until you are ready to hear his story, all right?” he asked searching her eyes.

Emily nodded again unsure if she wanted to hear about Jonathon and Deidre’s affair, but burning to know it.

“I must leave for Williamsburg at once, but I will remain to relate this to you now if you wish. Otherwise, on my return, when the shock of these events has eased, we can discuss it. Would you prefer that?”

“Yes, David, thank you. I believe I need some time to digest the recent occurrences.” Emily said wiping the tears from her eyes. Joanna handed her a napkin, and a fresh cup of tea. Emily smiled at her. “You have both been so kind to me ever since I arrived at Brentwood Manor. It seems I continue to depend on your kindheartedness.”

“Emily, dear, we love you. You are my sister, and we care about your well-being, and now your baby’s too.” Joanna smiled at her and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes.

David rose.

“I must depart for Williamsburg. The Virginia Convention is finalizing plans for a separation from Great Britain. I will return as soon as I am able, but Andrew will be here with Joanna to watch over you, Emily. Please take care. Deidre has been instructed to stay away from you, but I do not trust her. You need to be aware of the danger you are in and take every precaution,” David said, a crease between his brows.

“I will be careful, David. And I have Andrew and Joanna,” she said smiling at her sister-in-law.

David pulled Joanna to him in a warm embrace and kissed her long and full. Emily’s heart ached at the sight of such devotion and wondered how her life with Jonathon had come to this. Releasing Joanna, David placed his tricorn on his head, nodded to both women and left the room.

• • •

The golden summer sun warmed Jenny as she walked among the deep purple, lavender and pale periwinkle hues of the echinacea and hydrangeas in the Brentwood garden. The humidity that caused her hair to dance in small spiral curls around her face felt heavy, but being in the garden was soothing, so she opted for the mugginess rather than her room where no breeze stirred. She had chosen her lightest linen frock of mauve not realizing how she harmonized with the flowers that held her attention. Removing her sunbonnet, she dangled it by the yellow ribbons as she strolled along the paths brushing her hands along the petals and leaves, contemplating her relationship with Andrew. Since his return from Williamsburg, she sensed an awakening within him, a maturity hinted at in the set of his jaw and steady gaze, and a command in his demeanor carried in his self-assured posture. Of course, this only enhanced his attractiveness, and she often found herself staring at him trying to discern the source of his change. Hearing footsteps approaching, she turned and found herself face to face with the person of her musings.

“Good day, Jenny,” Andrew said. She noted a strength and confidence previously missing.

“Good day, Andrew,” she replied.

“May I join you on your stroll?” he asked.

“Of course.”

They walked along in silence for a while, occasionally noting a particularly beautiful blossom or the song of a bird. Strangely, the silence did not feel awkward; it was as if, on some deeper level, they had already begun this necessary conversation. Coming upon a wrought iron bench, they sat down.

“Jenny, I need to discuss something with you,” Andrew began, looking down at the path.

“Andrew, you do not need to explain — ,” she started.

“No, please, Jenny, just listen to me for a moment. When we were … that is, when I … ” his youthfulness seemed to return as he searched for words. Jenny waited for him to continue. Then, as if drawing from some inner reserve, his mien changed and he turned to her and took her hands. Looking into her eyes, he began again.

“Jenny, I love you. I have loved you since you first arrived in that teeming thunderstorm months ago. I think of you day and night, and I want to be with you every moment. Each time I enter a room, each time I open a door, I hope that you will be there. When you speak, my heart strains to catch every word. When you laugh, it is like the angels are singing. I apologize for my response to you on our ride. I was — well, I was unsure I would measure up to your vision of what a man should be.”

Jenny started to interrupt, but he placed a finger against her lips.

“I realize that if you return my love, I will become the man that is that vision, for your love would give me the strength, the courage, the integrity to be that man.”

He looked into her eyes and saw tears welling up in them, softness saying what words need not.

“Andrew,” she breathed as his lips found hers.

His arms encircled her and brought her close, and heat poured through him as he felt her body pressed against his. She answered his kiss ardently, leaning into him, her arms reaching up around his shoulders. At first tender, their kiss intensified as passion flamed. His mouth searched hers hungrily. Andrew’s mind reeled, but he did not feel insecure; in Jenny’s arms he felt bold and worthy.

Finally they parted, each breathless with their desire. Andrew gently brushed the curls from Jenny’s face and smiled into her eyes. She smiled in return, revealing the single dimple that caused him to melt. He took her hands into his and kissed them.

“Jenny, we must be careful, for I do not want to do anything improper. But I can barely keep from coming to your room at night and holding you in my arms. Now it will be even more difficult to restrain myself.”

Jenny laughed, her voice floating lightly on the summer breeze.

“Andrew, my father will have Uncle David’s hide if something unseemly were to occur right under his roof. We must temper our emotions as best we can.”

“I am not sure I am able, Jenny, but I will never do anything to hurt you. I love you so,” he said.

“And I love you, Andrew.”

He bent his head to kiss her again when the thunderous sound of hoof beats intruded.

“Oh no, the British,” he said, rising from the bench to look over the gardens toward the drive. “Jenny, we must return to the manor. When we get there, go into the house, find my sister and Joanna. All of you need to stay together inside. We must hurry.” He took her hand and they ran together toward the manor.

• • •

Emily and Joanna heard hoof beats and the baying of hounds reverberating up the drive as they played with Will on the shaded terrace. Will had lined up tiny tin soldiers along a paving stone when the sound of approaching horses reached them. He pointed toward the drive in excitement.

“Oook, oook, Mama,” he cried.

Joanna snatched him up and clutched him to her. Heart sinking, she turned to Emily whose face was ashen.

“Oh my God — Jonathon,” Emily whispered, shaking as she rose from her chair.

Holding hands, the women approached the drive as the soldiers halted before the manor. Out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw Andrew and Jenny returning from the garden.

Chaos filled the front yard as horses cantered up. Clustering around the legs of the horses, several hounds were sniffing the ground and pulling at their tethers. The soldiers reined in their horses and the officer in front dismounted as the dogs continued their frantic howling. Ordering the soldiers to quiet the dogs, he approached the women.

Captain Arthur Walters.

Emily felt as if she would swoon when she recognized the British soldier who had attempted to rape her while encamped at Brentwood Manor the previous year, searching for Jonathon. Her stomach lurched as she saw a scar along his face — the scar she had inflicted. Her legs trembled, and she looked at the contingent of soldiers hoping to find the face of her childhood friend Captain Michael Dennings. His face was not among the troops, however.

Surprise flickered across his face when Captain Walters noticed that Emily was pregnant. He sauntered over and stood before her. His eyes blazed into hers as he greeted her.

“Well, Mrs. Jonathon Brentwood. How I have anticipated this encounter and the opportunity to repay your hospitality.” His voice was slick and low. “And now I see you carry Brentwood’s brat; how delicious. I may enjoy this visit more than I had thought.”

Emily recoiled at his unctuous tone and insinuations. She leaned back, away from him as his words, coated in false pleasantries, slid over her senses. Sensing her abhorrence, he leaned in closer. “Now there is even more at stake, is there not, Mrs. Brentwood?”

Emily turned and looked at him.

“I believe your last visit did not end well for you, Captain Walters. I will do my best to ensure this visit provides equal distress,” she said, her eyes boring into his. She saw him flinch for one instant, and then recover, sneering at her.

“Is that a threat to a soldier of the king, Mrs. Brentwood?”

“That is a promise to a villain, Captain Walters,” she spat back at him.

Like a shot his hand snapped up and he slapped her forcing her to lose her balance. Stumbling, she recovered and stood scowling at him.

“I see you are still a gentleman.”

He shifted under her gaze, discomfited at her courage and his inability to intimidate her. Turning toward his men, he ordered them to dismount.

“We know Captain Brentwood is here,” he said indicating the hounds. “It would be best for all if he simply surrendered to us now.”

“My husband is not here.”

“Mrs. Brentwood, tell your husband not to be a coward but to come out. It will save us searching, and that could involve damaging your beautiful home, even possibly injuring some of your household.” He looked at Will.

Joanna clutched her child closer, and he began to cry.

“Take Will inside, Joanna. I see in addition to being a gentleman, Captain Walters also chooses to harm those weaker than he,” Emily said.

“Emily, I will not leave you alone out here,” Joanna said.

“I will be fine, Joanna; Will is frightened by Captain Walters,” Emily said.

“As should you be, Mrs. Brentwood,” Walters smirked.

Andrew appeared and stood beside Emily.

“Jonathon is not here,” he stated firmly. “Your hounds have indeed picked up his scent since he was here last night, but he is long gone, Captain.”

Emily started at her brother’s words wondering why he would reveal Jonathon’s visit. Then, realizing his ploy, she understood why he gave a deceptive answer for the timing of the visit, for Jonathon had been there two nights previously. Andrew’s fabrication would influence where they searched for Jonathon based on the timing of his visit.

Captain Walters turned his attention to Andrew.

“So, Brentwood’s apprentice is left in charge. This could be rather amusing,” he said stepping toward Andrew, scowling. His words hissed through his teeth. “You are in danger yourself, Wentworth, for rumor has it that you are involved in many of Brentwood’s traitorous plots.”

Andrew stood fast, not flinching. “Remove your men from our property, Walters,” he said.

With a quick move, Captain Walters raised the butt of his musket and slammed it into Andrew’s gut. Doubling over, Andrew let out a loud gasp, and then coming up, pointed his pistol at Captain Walters’s face. Several soldiers drew pistols and aimed them at Andrew and time seemed to stop. Suddenly in a commotion behind the manor, a horse and rider shot out of the stables. Flying along the path, they leapt over shrubs and tore down the road.