The Governor's Daughter (Winds of Change Book 1) (4 page)

But
it
was
Cathryn’s
temper
that
worried
her
father.
He had cautioned her more than once about it.
Sumner
called her Jalyn at those times. Sumner said she reminded
him
of the jays when they bickered with the other
birds,
strident, acrimonious, not relenting until they had their way.

In
all, she
was
much
like
her
father,
having
inherited
his
stubbornness, which was evident in her determination not
to
leave. “Father, I do believe you are making too much of it. There
would
have
been
no
scene
at
all
if
that
insolent
officer hadn’t interfered as he did.
William…”

“Cathryn,
Lieutenant
Pennington
is
a
fine
officer
and
a gentleman. In that I have to question William. Why he would ever allow you to contemplate such an action! His family
is
one
of
the
oldest
and
most
respected
families
in
the county.”

“It
was
not
his
fault,
Father.
I
asked
him
to,
for
I
cannot bear
to
be
parted
from
you
and
my
home!”
she
cried.
“I
tried to tell you, but you don’t listen. I don’t want to go.”

“Are you mad, Cathryn? Or are you really
telling
me you
are
in
love
with
William?
Are
you
prepared
to
marry?”

“I
like
William,
Father,”
she
retorted.
Her
temper
began
to show. “I like him better than any other.”

“I...”
he
began.
He
stared
at
his
daughter.
“I
gave
William
full
warning
to
stay
out
of
your
path
last
night
after
the first
incident.
Why
do
I
feel
you
are
using
the
poor
fellow? Is that what you truly want for yourself, Cathryn?”

“Honestly,
Father,
I
know
only
that
I
can’t
leave
here.
I can’t leave you, Sumner, or Juriah. How can you ask me to?”

“It is not my desire for you to settle, Cathryn. I want you to be happy. My concern is you. I saw easily through your
ploy
last
night
and
even
though
I
well
warned
William that
if
he
wants
your
hand,
he
can
do
so
properly
when
you return from England. Especially…especially not to try to run
out
and
elope
in
the
middle
of
the
Hampton
Square
Race dance!”

“I have never! Knocking Miss Longridge into the reflection
pool!
And
on
top
of
that
climbing
out
your
window! You could have been killed! What was in your mind?”
His voice rose higher and higher, cracking at the last utterance.

“Only
staying
here,
Father!”
She
leaped
from
her
chair and hugged her father. “I can’t bear to leave you,
Father.”

He
held
her
tight
in
his
arms,
only
reluctantly
breaking from her. “Cathryn, do this for me. I ask only a
year.”

* * * *

The
dew
clung
to
leaves
and
grass
in
the
early
morning hours. Cathryn’s slippers were soaked as she walked
down the
worn
path.
She
had
eased
out
the
back
door
through
the kitchen.

The house was abuzz with all the company that had stayed over. Juriah, helping with the cooking, caught her eye as Cathryn placed her hand on the back door. She nodded slightly. Cathryn realized Juriah knew where she was heading.

Juriah had given comfort to her when she returned from her dreadful night’s adventure. In the middle of the night, Juriah silently eased into her room. She had said nothing, but understood what Cathryn was feeling.

Taking
Cathryn
into
her
arms,
she
rocked
her
until
she cried herself to sleep. Juriah had long stood in for the mother
she
had
lost
many
years
previous
and
was
the
heart of this strange
household.

Juriah
had
been
part
of
Cathryn’s
life
since
her
mother had died. Less than a year after her mother and younger brother,
John
Steven,
came
to
the
South
Carolina
plantation, they died of the
fever.

After
a
time,
her
father
had
brought
Juriah
to
Elm
Bluff. Sumner had already lived among them. Cathryn had never questioned the make-up of her family. It wasn’t until Tacy had arrived as an indentured servant that Cathryn learned her home wasn’t made up as most
households.

“I have heard it is why your father settled in Charles Town
and
didn’t
return
to
England,”
Tacy
gossiped
to
Cathryn. “He doesn’t want to leave Miss
Juriah.”

Comprehension
of
Tacy’s
words
settled
upon
her
young
naïve ears. Juriah Meador was the most handsome woman Cathryn had ever known. Juriah, a half-breed of Cherokee descent fitting into neither world, was a gentle, kind soul rumored by the Cherokees to have a healing
hand.

Cathryn
gave
no
credence
to
the
fact
that
her
father
had taken Juriah as his lover before he married her mother. Wasn’t Sumner thirteen when she first met him? A good eight years older than
she.

“That is not unusual, Miss Cathryn. The British readily set up their mistresses. They have found it acceptable to marry for position and take their pleasure from other means. But to have one in their own home! The governor couldn’t do so in England.”

“Mistresses…lovers? If it is as you say, why
wouldn’t Father marry Juriah? Why would he do so? Isn’t it a sin?” Cathryn asked in her innocence.

Tacy
laughed
and
said
in
her
soft
Irish
brogue,
“Oh,
the rich, Miss Cathryn, have a different set of rules of which I’m certain they have negotiated with God Almighty himself.”

Cathryn
pushed
back
all
her
thoughts
as
she
walked
up a gentle slope and through the rose garden. A huge oak sat alone, shading the area outside a wrought iron fence. She walked without a thought and opened the ornate gate. The flowers she had cut only yesterday had wilted in the vase. The
water
had
run
out
of
the
tilted
container!
She
hadn’t
secured it well enough, having been in too much of a hurry. She reprimanded herself; she should have known better. Tears welled up.
Stupid
flowers!

She
bent
down
and
picked
up
the
drooping
flowers
and threw them over the fence into the woods which edged the small cemetery. She would need to pick fresh
ones.

“Cathryn,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

Glancing up, she caught sight of her brother. Tall, six feet
two
inches,
long
of
bone
and
hard
of
muscle
with
a
sun-burned
face
and
deep
chestnut
hair,
Sumner
was
a
mirror
of her father, except he was a good half a foot taller and with darker coloring. His shirt was disheveled a tad, hanging over his pants. His hair, unkempt, waved in the
breeze.

“You don’t look as if you slept last night,” Cathryn stated plainly upon the sight in front of her.

“I
don’t
think
many
slept
last
night,
Jalyn,”
he
said,
giving Cathryn full warning he was in no mood
for
bantering. “I
wanted
to
talk
with
you
so
no
one
could
hear
our
words.”

Cathryn
studied
her
brother
for
a
moment.
His
expression solemn, looking past her to the graves.

“You
come
out
here
often,
I
know.
Mother
has
told
me. You must find comfort here.”

Cathryn nodded ever so slightly. The wind picked up, carrying
with
it
the
fragrance
of
all
around
freshness
of
the new day, giving way to calm and
peace.

He
took
in
a
deep
breath.
He
rubbed
his
forehead.
“We need to talk.”

“I’m
listening,
Sumner.
I
have
always
listened
to
you,” she answered. She brushed over the dirt on her
skirt.