Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (34 page)

"You've heard this much, you might as well hear the rest," he said.

John and Rachel suddenly appeared very old and frail. Alanna had always looked up to them, but now she saw them for the imperfect people they were. First they had lost their only daughter, and despite their best efforts to ignore the truth, it had caught up with them, irrevocably damaging the beauty of their memories. That they had been cursed by their son-in-law, as though they deserved his hatred, had crushed all that was left of their spirits. They sat together, shaken and hollow-eyed, waiting for someone else to speak.

Byron cleared his throat. "I'm afraid there simply is no considerate way to break a man's heart, but I would have given anything to spare Ian this new anguish. It's plain he'll not raise Christian. What are we going to do about the boy?"

"We'll raise him," Alanna proposed, "just as we would have any child of Melissa's."

Slowly emerging from his stupor, John heard Alanna's suggestion and reacted violently. "No! Make the Indian come for his son. All that has happened is
his
fault, and I'll not have his brat living with us as a daily reminder of it. Take the child back to the wet nurse, and leave him there until his father comes."

"But Uncle—"

"Don't you dare argue with me, Alanna. We'll tell everyone the babe is sickly and can have no visitors, then when his father takes him away, we'll say he died. Ian can't talk about the babe without making himself look a fool, so Melissa's secret will be safe as soon as the babe is gone."

John Barclay was shaking with anger, and Alanna was not even tempted to argue with him. She carried Christian from the room. Elliott went to fetch the carriage, while she waited for him in the hall. When Graham walked up to her, she turned away.

"I really believed taking Ian to see his son was the best thing to do. I'd no idea the visit would provoke such terrible consequences. Can you ever forgive me?"

"We'd planned to reveal the truth about Melissa's son gently, in hopes that Ian would love him as dearly as he had loved her. Perhaps we would have failed, and his reaction would have been the same violently hostile one you observed, but now we'll never know. I can forgive you, but will Ian?"

"I doubt it. I always liked Melissa. I thought she was as nice as you."

"She was," Alanna insisted, but her eyes filled with tears, and she used the edge of one of Christian's blankets to wipe them away. "Why don't you go after Ian. He's the one who needs you now."

"I'd much rather ride into town with you."

"No, I'd not be good company. Please go."

"I am so sorry."

"Goodbye, Graham."

Despite having caused the day's disaster, the Englishman had no intention of giving up his quest to win Alanna's heart; he kissed her cheek lightly before leaving.

* * *

Night had fallen before Alanna and Elliott returned home, for it had taken them some time to satisfy Charity Wade's curiosity without divulging more than they wished her to know. She was fond of Christian, and relieved to have him restored safely to her care. They left her home after reassuring her Ian was unlikely to visit ever again.

"We should have told Charity not to admit any other visitors," Elliott worried aloud.

"I'll tell her tomorrow."

"You're not going to keep visiting the babe, are you?"

"Of course, I am. I realize I'm a cousin rather than his aunt, but I want him to feel loved."

Elliott held the front door open for her. "Come upstairs and help me write the letter to Hunter. I know you'll be able to explain the difficulty of our situation far more eloquently than I."

Alanna accompanied Elliott to his room, but she didn't want Hunter to come for Christian, so her heart wasn't in their task. "He hasn't answered any of your other letters. What makes you so certain he can read?"

"I've seen him do it many a time. I've also seen him write."

"Christian is too small to travel any great distance," Alanna reminded him.

"That will be a matter for Hunter to decide."

"He'll need to bring along a wet nurse."

Elliott went to his desk, sat down, and removed a sheet of stationery from the top drawer. "I doubt he'd recognize that term. I better just say he'll need to bring along a woman to nurse the infant."

Although hoping Hunter would never arrive, Alanna tried to appear helpful. "Yes, and tell him to bring plenty of blankets to wrap him in."

"I believe the Seneca use furs rather than blankets to keep warm."

"Well, whatever they use, tell him to bring plenty. Did Hunter have a house? Does he have anywhere to take Christian?"

Elliott dipped his pen into the ink. "Let's not overwhelm him with questions, Alanna. How he chooses to raise his son really isn't any of our business."

"It most certainly is. Melissa isn't here to look after the boy, so we must."

Elliott turned around to face her. "You must be very disappointed in my parents. But, Alanna, they'd never love Christian, even if you somehow convinced them it was their duty to raise him. He's clearly part Indian, and they'd never be able to overlook that. I'm surprised that you can."

"So am I frankly, but Christian's heritage doesn't bother me at all. Now let's hurry up and write that letter. We better tell Hunter to send a reply, whether or not he's coming to Virginia. That way we'll be certain he received the letter and knows he has a son."

Elliott nodded thoughtfully, and they rehearsed each phrase before he wrote it, but they were both dissatisfied with their first effort and revised it repeatedly. Their final version was only a slight improvement, but convinced that they had done their best to convey sad and shocking news, Elliott sealed the envelope and addressed it to Hunter in care of William Johnson's trading post.

"This time I just know that he'll answer me," Elliott enthused.

But Alanna left his room praying that Hunter would feel as badly betrayed as Ian, and want nothing to do with his child.

* * *

The carefully prepared letter reached Hunter the first week in December. He carried it to his house unopened, and ashamed that Melissa's marriage had made it impossible for him to continue his friendship with Elliott, he tossed it into the fire unread. He liked Elliott, and was flattered by the fact that the young man still wished to write to him. His previous notes had been friendly and filled with humorous accounts of life on the plantation. Hunter had laughed as he had read them, but he had had nothing to say in return. When the letters had stopped coming, he had been saddened, but more than a little relieved.

He watched the flames blacken the parchment envelope, then spread through the single sheet of stationery, gradually reducing it to cinders. With the holidays coming, he supposed Elliott had thought of him, but he hoped this was the last letter he'd send. He added another log to the fire pit, and all that remained of the letter disappeared into the ashes at the bottom.

With the coming of autumn, all the men were busy trapping, and Hunter had not been challenged to any more fights. That suited him fine, for he intended to get in plenty of trapping himself that winter. He had gone out a couple of times, set a few traps, and had been amply rewarded for his trouble. By the spring he would have earned enough money selling pelts to take expensive presents home for his family, but he still was not certain that he would actually go.

The restlessness that had driven him away from home was still too much a part of him. A born warrior, he listened attentively whenever there was a mention of the French and English dispute over the Ohio Valley, but while he had been told London was sending more troops, they were not expected to arrive until spring. He was undecided as to whether he would again volunteer to scout, but the option held a definite appeal. While the pay wouldn't be nearly as good, there would be far more honor in going into battle against the French army, than simply fighting trappers each weekend for entertainment.

The weather was growing bitterly cold, and it would soon snow. Recalling the warmth of summer, Hunter moved closer to the fire. He had a few books for company, but with little hope the coming year would be better than the last, he was far from content.

Ian requested a leave and sailed for England, but it was Graham Tyler who informed the Barclays of the officer's departure rather than Ian himself. The Scotsman had married their daughter and lived among them, but had not spoken with the family since the day he had fled their home in a rage, leaving them all feeling as abused as he. Hoping to spare the Barclays further grief, Graham volunteered to gather up whatever Melissa and Ian had left in their rented house, and Alanna went along to help.

"Will Ian reach London by Christmas?" she asked.

"Yes, if the good weather holds."

"I wish I could have spoken with him before he left. Do you know when he's coming back?"

"I doubt that he will," Graham replied. "He lost too much here."

"Perhaps time will soften his heart. I can't bear to think of him hating Melissa, or the rest of us, when we all loved him."

Embarrassed by her mention of love because it did not include him, Graham carried a carton filled with crockery to the door, before replying. "Were you in town earlier today? I thought I might have seen you."

"Yes, my aunt and uncle disapprove of my visiting Christian, but they've not been so foolish as to forbid it."

"And if they did?"

"They'd be very wrong, and I'd have to defy them."

Alanna was refolding linens that had never been used, a task Graham thought particularly senseless, but he imagined she might feel as uneasy in her late cousin's former home as he did. "What if I asked you not to see the boy so often? Would you give my feelings any more consideration than your aunt and uncle's?"

Alanna set the last pillowcase aside. "Your feelings? What are you talking about, Graham? Why should you care how often I see my baby cousin?"

They were nearly finished with the sorting and packing, and Graham rushed to make his point. "People are beginning to talk, Alanna. Melissa's death brought your family enormous amounts of sympathy, and the suddenness of Ian's departure is understandable, but the fact that no one has seen the child is causing comment. I've heard rumors that he's deformed."

"Why would anyone say such an awful thing? You know that he isn't!"

"Yes, but I don't dare say that I've seen the boy, for fear I'll be asked questions I'd rather not answer. Weren't you going to send for Christian's father?"

"Yes, we did, but so far there's been no reply."

Graham nodded thoughtfully. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'd hoped he would be on his way here by now. Until he does arrive, I really wish you wouldn't spend so much of your time with Christian."

Alanna was amazed by what she regarded as completely unwarranted meddling in her affairs. She reminded herself that Graham was an officer and used to giving orders, but despite the splendid tailoring of his uniform and proud military bearing which imparted unmistakable authority to each of his gestures, she did not respond with the loyalty of his troops. "You have absolutely no right to make such a request, Graham. I wouldn't dream of telling you how you ought to spend your time."

"That's a completely different issue," he argued. "I believe there's something you haven't considered."

"Oh really? I can't think what it might be."

"What if a man were seriously interested in you, Alanna? You're so preoccupied with Melissa's child, he might fear the only way to win your consent for marriage was to agree to adopt him. Is it your intention to give such an impression?"

Graham was right, Alanna hadn't thought past her daily contact with Christian to the possibility of assuming responsibility for him permanently. She was of an age to marry, but Ian had rejected the prospect of raising an Indian's child so violently, that it had not even occurred to her that another man might have a more charitable view. "As I said, we've attempted to contact Christian's father. We'll have to exhaust that possibility, before any other plans can be made."

"My God, do you mean you'd consider taking the responsibility for Christian yourself?"

Alanna's pretty smile made her decision plain. "Why yes, I think it's a delightful idea. I have the money from my parents' estate. It isn't a great deal, but it would be enough to provide Christian with all he might need and a good education. He wouldn't be a burden to anyone."

Graham's eyes were a warm, soft gray, but narrowing now, they took on a steel-like glint. "Once you begin putting conditions on your love, I doubt there will be any end to them. If you'll demand a man adopt an Indian's brat to wed you, then you'll soon find another test for him to prove his devotion, and another. A man would be a fool to begin what would surely become an impossible series of challenges."

"You don't honestly believe that I'm such an unreasonable person, do you?"

"I don't know what to think anymore."

"Christian needs a home and family," Alanna replied. "I owe Melissa that much."

"How can you believe you owe her anything, after the way she behaved?"

Alanna picked up the stack of linens. "Please, I came here to help you clean up the house, not to listen to you criticize a woman who can't defend herself."