Petals on the River (34 page)

of tea.

"Shemaine is as much o' a lady as any woman in this village.
 
I can see

it in the way she walks an' carries herself.
 
She has the confident,

refined elegance o' one who's been well tutored and instructed in the

social graces.
 
I can hear it when she talks, despite that wee bit o' an

Irish brogue.
 
She's well worth the hefty price ye paid for her, Mr.

Thornton, if ye didn't know it."

"She's all of what you say, and more," Gage admitted.
 
"Her talents are

unlimited.
 
Andrew is already becoming attached to her. Perhaps you saw

his concern when he thought she had been hurt.
 
She's very good with

him, better thanþ" He paused suddenly, realizing he was being much too

verbose about the girl.

"Roxanne?" Mary Margaret supplied the name in a gently questioning tone,

not wishing to set the man at odds with her.

"Shemaine has a way about her," Gage said, preferring not to answer the

elder's query.
 
"She's very gifted."

"Oh, no doubt.
 
No doubt." The elder paused to take a sip from her own

cup and then settled in a rocking chair in front of the hearth.

For a lengthy moment she stared into the flickering flames as she

savored the brew.
 
Then she tossed a quick furtive glance toward the

tall man.
 
"But I should warn ye -bout the rumors that are already

makin' their way bout town, many with the aid o' Mrs.
 
Pettycomb, who,

if she minded her own business as much as she did others', would be a

blessed saint."

"I can imagine the rumors are not very pleasant,-" Gage muttered above

his teacup.
 
"They never are."

"When ye're as handsome as yerself, sir, ye're bound ta cause talk, but

when ye've also got a girl as winsome as Shemaine O'Hearn livin' under

the same roof with ye .
 
.
 
.
 
well, such talk is almost ta be expected.

Some folks are already callin' her foul names an' sayin' as how ye

bought her for yerself ta sport with.
 
Ta be sure, they'll be watchin'

her belly ta see if it grows heavy with child."

The muscles tensed in Gage's cheeks as he stubbornly declared, "I bought

Shemaine because she'll be able to teach Andrew how to read and write in

years to come."

"Is that the only reason?" Mary Margaret inquired softly.

Gage looked at her in surprise, but for the life of him he couldn't make

any denials to the elder's unspoken insinuation, for he'd be lying

through his teeth.

"If I were a man as fine as yerself, ownin' a bondswoman as comely as

Shemaine," Mary Margaret ventured, "I'd not allow any space for the

rumors ta hatch.
 
I'd marry the girl an' grin with pride when the ol'

biddies see her belly growin'."

Her guest raised a brow in quizzical wonder.
 
"You never give up, do

you, Mary Margaret?"

"What in the world do ye mean?" She feigned innocence with a sweet

smile.

"You know very well what I mean," Gage challenged.
 
"The realms of the

lower world would freeze over ere you'd cease your attempts to marry off

couples.
 
You have a very determined nature, madam."

The elder grinned back at him as she shrugged her thin shoulders. "What

do ye expect?
 
I'm Irish!"

Gage tossed a pleading glance upward.
 
"Heaven protect this Englishman

from all the Irishwomen in the world!"

Chapter 7.

The cobbler's workshop was nigh the heart of Newportes Newes, and though

the afternoon was swiftly aging, Gage refused to leave the hamlet

without completing all the errands he had set out to do, the last being

to order shoes for his bondswoman.
 
He pulled the wagon to a halt in

front of the cobbler's shop and lifted his son and then Shemaine down to

the boardwalk.
 
As he did so, he noticed that a number of people had

stopped along the thoroughfare and were watching them in unabashed

curiosity.
 
Their interest seemed mainly centered on the girl, and after

his recent chat with Mrs.
 
McGee, it wasn't hard to surmise what most of

them were thinking.
 
Then, too, accounts of Shemaine's recent set-to

with Potts might have been spreading through the village, and some

people were no doubt interested in seeing how the girl had fared.

Several bachelors were edging closer for a better look as well. Though

Gage couldn't imagine the pinch-faced Mrs.
 
Pettycomb lauding the beauty

of a convict, other residents of the community had witnessed his

purchase of Shemaine and were far more apt to describe her in greater

detail.
 
It was conceivable that such talk had given rise to the

curiosity of the young gallants.
 
But then, considering the scarcity of

available women, they would have looked with yearning at any fetching

maid who might have ventured into the area.

Gage knew most of the men well enough, some certainly better than

others.
 
Two of the younger ones had even worked for him as apprentices

for a time, but they had failed to come up to his expectations, and he

had let them go.
 
He was cognizant of the bachelors' lengthy struggles

to find themselves wives.
 
He had experienced many of the same

frustrations himself ere he had married Victoria and again in more

recent months, but their plight was of little consequence to him.
 
Had

any of them been of such a mind, they could have braved the bigoted

opinions of the town biddies and gone to the London Pride, just as he

had done.
 
But they hadn't, and he'd be hanged before letting them skim

off the best of the cream now.
 
Shemaine was his possession, and short

of her parents arriving to buy back her freedom, he had no intention of

selling her, even at a huge profit.
 
She was precisely the kind of

bondswoman he had been hoping to find, perhaps even better and more

beautiful than he had dared to envision, and that was enough reason to

refuse any and all overtures.

"Why, if it isn't Mr.
 
Thornton and Shemaine O'Hearn!" a woman jeered

behind them.

The harsh feminine voice was only vaguely familiar to Gage, but Shemaine

knew it too well.
 
Its caustic tone evoked dark memories of long hours

locked away in a cable her and morbid scenes of lifeless bodies being

dumped into the sea.
 
Drawing in a deep breath to steady herself,

Shemaine reluctantly responded in like manner as Gage faced the woman

whom she and the other convicts had derisively dubbed "Mrs. Captain

Fitch."

"Madam." Gage briefly tipped his hat as he recognized Ciertrude Fitch.

Then, with an equally concise greeting, he acknowledged her glowering

husband.
 
"Captain Fitch."

Gertrude raked her gaze scathingly over the object of her hatred and

felt a bitter disappointment as she took note of the much-improved

appearance of the girl.
 
Her lips twisted downward snidely as she made

comment.
 
"Life as a servant certainly seems to agree with you, She

maine."

Gertrude Fitch had been motivated by spite to find out how the

bogtrotter was faring as a bondslave.
 
In fact, she had all but demanded

that her husband escort her about the hamlet, on the chance that she

would glean dreadful news of Shemaine's circumstances from various

remarks townspeople were wont to make.
 
But when she saw the colonial

reach out and gently gather the girl's slender fingers in his own,

Gertrude nearly choked on the bitter bile of animosity.
 
Whether a

gesture of reassurance, compassion, or (worse yet) tender affection, it

conveyed sentiments that pierced her heart anew with hostility.
 
When I

the man made it evident that Shemaine was under his protection, Gertrude

could foresee nothing radically unfavorable happening to the girl.

A brief silence ensued as Gertrude glared at Shemaine, but Captain Fitch

was totally unsympathetic with his wife's enmity toward the girl and

tromped on her onerous taciturnity with a faint trace of scorn in his

smirk.
 
"This is the first time my wife has ever ventured beyond the

shores of England.
 
She was so curious about this blasted colony she

nigh threatened me with mayhem if I didn't show her about." Disguising

his resentment with a humorless chuckle, he rocked back upon his heels

as he cast an irksome glance down the thoroughfare.
 
Knowing full well

that Gertrude had been hoping to hear tales of Shemaine's adversity, he

continued with his subtle innuendos.
 
"I assured her there would

probably be nothing worthwhile to see, but I suppose she was longing to

find a wee bauble or even a bit of news to content her."

Everette Fitch settled his gaze fleetingly on Shemaine.
 
With her hair

combed and subdued in a braided knot behind her nape, the girl looked as

prim and comely as he had once imagined she would under better

circumstances.
 
Considering the depth of Gertrude's hateful

expectations, he could only surmise that by now his wife was seething

with disappointment.

Gage was keenly perceptive of the glance Captain Fitch flicked over

Shemaine and the torturous yearning burning within the gray eyes. He had

also caught the significance of the man's words and answered him

adroitly.
 
"Aye, there are treasures to be found .
 
.
 
.
 
but in their

true form, they might not always appeal to the one who searches for them

so diligently.
 
But to others, they are highly prized.
 
In fact, some

men would chance everything to have them safely within their grasp."

The guileful insinuations riled Everette so thoroughly that he could

hardly trust himself to meet the amber-flecked gaze, much less to speak.

He was still incensed over losing Shemaine, but he was even more

resentful of the fact that this impudent interloper had challenged his

authority as ship's captain by cunningly petitioning Gertrude to