Petals on the River (84 page)

from the front porch as she leaned on her cane and glanced about her.

"Where's yer pretty wife?
 
An' Andrew, where is he?"

Gage swept a hand casually toward the loft.
 
"Andrew's upstairs with his

grandfather.
 
You may go up and introduce yourself if you so desire.

Shemaine isn't ready yet and has need of my services before she can be

presented." He held up the satchel to gain the elder's attention as he

stepped toward the bedroom door.
 
"I'll put this in Andrew's room in

case you should have need of it.
 
I've already pulled out the trundle

bed, so I'll leave the case beside the one you'll be sleeping in

tonight.
 
The taller bed will be more suited for you."

Mary Margaret elevated her gaze as she heard the low murmur of a deep

voice drifting down from the upper story.
 
It had a nice sound to it,

she thought, but promptly faced Gage with one of her concerns.
 
"Ye sure

I won't be disturbin' Andrew sleepin' in his room tonight?"

"He'll enjoy your company," Gage reassured her.
 
"He's been a bit

lonesome in there since we put up the wall between our bedrooms."

"The wee tyke will no doubt be havin' a new brother or sister before too

long," Mary Margaret ruminated aloud, cutting her eyes back toward Gage.

4,That will help ease his lonely plight, ta be sure."

Gage grinned and cocked a querying brow at her.
 
"Now look who's

watching for Shemaine's belly to grow," he teased, and lifted his

shoulders in a casual shrug.
 
"You'll have to give us time, Mary

Margaret."

"As if I've not given ye enough as it is, ye rogue!" she rebuked with a

chortle.
 
"Just how much time do ye need?"

"Give or take a month or two .
 
.
 
.
 
or maybe more."

Mary Margaret flung up a hand as if to pooh-pooh his argument. "Ye've

been wastin' time, else ye'd be knowin' whether or not yer wife has been

caught." Growing suspicious, the elder eyed him closely. "But then,

ye've always been a bit closemouthed, Gage Thornton, an' I'm thinkin' ye

wouldn't be tellin' til the rest of us can see it for ourselves."

"Now, would I keep such an important secret from you?" Gage inquired in

an affectionate tone.

Mary Margaret responded with an exaggerated snort.
 
"Bet yer infernal

hide, ye would!"

Curbing a smile as her host chuckled, the woman progressed several steps

toward the back corridor and then, upon recalling a matter of grave

importance, turned back to reclaim Gage's attention just as he reached

the bedroom door.
 
She was reluctant to bring tales of woe into the

Thornton home so soon after their altercation with Horace Turnbull and

his men, but she thought her friends needed to be told.
 
"I assume ye've

not heard that Samuel Myers went missin' for a pair o' days...."

Gage looked at her, perplexed.
 
"You mean he left Newportes Newes?"

"In spirit only."

Gage's brows drew together.
 
"What do you mean?"

"They found Mr.
 
Myers in his well this morn'n.
 
His neck had been

broken." She sighed pensively.
 
'He might the'er been discovered except,

on the way down, his foot got tangled in the pulley rope on the bucket."

Gage set his jaw at a reflective angle.
 
"I presume he didn't break his

neck just falling in."

''Dropped, more'n likely.
 
Alma Pettycomb said she came round ta see Mr.

Myers the other day an' found him squabblin' with his neighbor, Dr.

Ferris.
 
Twould seem they were arguin' over Annie.
 
Myers claimed ye had

cheated him, an' Colby called him a bloody blackguard an' a liar ta his

face."

Gage's lips twisted grimly.
 
"So Mrs.
 
Pettycomb is now pointing a

finger at Colby as the murderer."

Mary Margaret dipped her head in the affirmative.
 
"She's become quite

taken with the fact that yer father is a lord and, for the time bein',

has given ye a reprieve from her criticism.
 
Otherwise, she'd be layin'

the blame on ye, too."

"How kind of her," Gage jeered caustically.

"Not really."

He looked at the woman, sensing that something more was coming.

"Alma is now sayin' Shemaine's not fit ta be yer wife, what with her

bein' a convict an' all."

"Too bad someone didn't drop Mrs.
 
Pettycomb down a well!" Gage growled

in vexation.

"Aye, someone might be tempted to do the deed one o' these days, but I'd

rather it not be any o' me friends." Mary Margaret eyed the man closely

until the full weight of her statement penetrated his awareness, then

Gage laughed and reassured her with a shake of his head.

"Don't worry, Mary Margaret, I won't ruin my life killing that old crow.

She doesn't bother me that much."

"That's good." Mary Margaret smiled in relief and, lifting her cane,

pointed toward the corridor.
 
"Yer father is decent, is he not?"

"Not really," Gage quipped, lending a whole different meaning to her

question.
 
"Right now, he could probably take on Potts and come out the

better.
 
Just be warned."

Mary Margaret' s smile never wavered as she tossed a glance toward the

stairs.
 
"I think I can take care o' meself."

"I never suffered any doubts, madam."

With a chortle the Irishwoman waved him toward the bedroom with a

flourish of a slender hand and continued toward the loft.
 
Upon nearing

the last step in her ascent, she rapped the tip of her cane against the

floor to announce her presence.

" Tis Mary Margaret McGee comin' ta see the gentlemen in this upper

room."' "Miz McGee!" Andrew cried, scooting off his grandfather's bed.

The boy ran to meet her and, taking her hand, led her back toward the

cot.

William hurriedly jerked off his eyeglasses, tucked them in a breast

pocket of his nightshirt and pulled the sheet nigh to his chin before he

glanced around with a scowl.
 
The prospect of having a harping ol' biddy

at his beck and call had put him in a sour mood, but upon laying eyes on

the small, trim, winsome woman, he immediately had second thoughts.
 
He

sought to lift himself upright from his pillow, but an excruciating pain

shot from his back through to the front of his chest, and he fell upon

the bed with a sharp grimace.

"Your pardon, madam," William apologized in some embarrassment as she

stepped near.
 
"I have not the strength to rise and meet you with

courteous attention.
 
Lying in this cot without reprieve for so long has

taken its toll upon me."

"No need ta bother yerself, me lord," Mary Margaret assured hin with a

sweet smile.
 
"I'm well acquainted with yer infirmity an' do no hold it

against ye." She swept her eyes casually along the length o him and, for

once in her life, had to agree with Mrs.
 
Pettycomb.
 
Hz was an

admirable specimen, even for an English lord.
 
But then, shz had always

considered Gage Thornton an exceptionally handsome man, and there was

definitely a striking resemblance between father and son.

"I was just reading to my grandson," William explained, gathering up

some of the books that Andrew had brought to his bedside.

''Please continue," she urged, laying a hand upon the boy's shoulder.

"I'm sure Andrew would love it.
 
While ye're doin' so, I'll go down an'

make us some tea.
 
If I know Shemaine, she'll be havin' some wee cakes

or crumpets made for servin' with tea." With a light, affectionate pat

on Andrew's shoulder, she moved toward the stairs "Mrs.
 
McGee .
 
.
 
.

?" William was amazed at the urgency in his tone and rebuked himself for

having grown so awkward around women.
 
Perhaps he had been too long a

widower and too ambitious in his shipbuilding endeavors, for he had lost

most of the social graces that women found attractive in men.
 
In the

years following his wife's death, he had grown hard, unpolished, and

irascible.
 
No wonder he found it difficult to talk to the fairer

gender.

Mary Margaret returned to the cot and looked down at him inquiringly.

"Would ye be wantin' somethin', me lord?"' He flicked a quick, hesitant

glance upward, but upon meeting eyes that were a truer blue than the

sky, he dared to hold her gaze.
 
"I was wondering how skilled you are

with cards...."

The blue eyes twinkled as Mary Margaret raised her small pointed chin

and challenged him.
 
"Skilled enough ta give yer lordship a run, ta be

sure."

William grinned with the same cajoling charm his grandchild had

mastered.
 
" Tis boring up here all alone.
 
Perhaps after Andrew has

been put to bed, you'd consider a game or two...."

Mary Margaret inclined her elegant white head ever so slightly, but the

shine in her eyes was dazzling.
 
"A game or two .
 
.
 
.
 
or mayhap even

three...."

Shemaine and Gage were just coming out of their bedroom when Mary

Margaret stepped from the back corridor into the kitchen The elder

paused to admire the young beauty who now wore a deep turquoise silk

that had once been Victoria's most enchanting gown.
 
The woman clearly

remembered how comely the previous owner had looked wearing it, but not

nearly as much as the present one.
 
A narrow turquoise ribbon adorned

Shemaine's slender throat, and from her ear-.

Iobes hung pearl droplets, a recent gift Gage had bestowed upon his

bride.
 
Her fiery red hair had been swept atop her head beneath a white