“What happened to you?” Thomas could not stop the question or its breathless delivery.
Freddy shrugged. “A little disagreement with a musket.”
“An accident?”
“No.” He looked beyond Thomas and grinned. “Wellsey. Good to see you. Who else is with you?” His greeting was hearty, free, not guarded as when he had addressed Thomas.
Thomas watched as the surgeon and his wife returned Freddy’s welcome like old friends. Like family. Even Dinah emerged from the coach and embraced him with enthusiasm. And they all traded jolly pleasantries.
“Frederick,” said Dinah, “you shouldn’t be out working in this heat on your wounded leg.” She put her fists at her waist. “What do you think you are doing?” Her concern smote Thomas’s sentiments. They were friends.
Freddy laughed, and Thomas heard the echo of his own voice in the sound of it.
“Now, cousin dear, my wife scolds me enough. Let it be.” He tweaked her nose, a gesture not at all pleasing to Thomas. But she laughed and batted his hand away. “Who better than I,” he said, “to remove the tree our last hurricane blew down? It provides me with some much needed exercise. Did you suffer from that storm?”
“Not terribly.” Dinah sent Thomas a questioning smile, and his heart hammered. “And you?”
Where did he fit in all of this? In truth, he did not fit at all. Aching, self-preserving pride ignited a fire in his chest, but he dared not let it burn. Instead he focused on a matter of no little severity. Who had dared to shoot Freddy? He was the king’s magistrate for St. Johns Towne and Cowford. Assaulting him was a hanging offense. Thomas surprised himself with this bit of family pride.
“God is merciful.” Freddy’s words refocused his attention on the present. “We lost a few trees—” he waved a hand toward the fallen oak “—but all of our people and livestock came through it safely.” He looked around the group. “Well, come along, then. Let me take you to the house. We’ll see that you shake off the dust of travel and have a good meal.” He turned toward the white, two-story mansion and began his trek. The smile he sent Thomas seemed forced, but whether from pain or animosity, Thomas could not discern. “Come along, brother. We have ten years of separation to review.”
During their silent trek, Thomas surveyed the grounds surrounding the house. Well-manicured lawns graced several quarters, much like the grounds at Bennington Manor, where they had spent their childhood. Perfectly shaped hedgerows enclosed flower and vegetable gardens. Outbuildings gleamed with fresh whitewash and dark-green trim. After his trip through the veritable jungles of East Florida, Thomas found the plantation a well-maintained estate, an orderly refuge in the midst of chaos.
The Indian guide, Charles Ramsey, bade them goodbye with a promise to return when the Wellseys were ready to travel back. The soldiers rode on to the nearby garrison. The Rangers were directed to a barrackslike building where they would stay for a few days as part of their volunteer duties to guard the area from rebels.
Hinton and the serving girl merged with the house staff to tend to their various duties. Thomas, Dinah and the Wellseys followed Freddy into the house, where they were met with a clamorous riot.
Three small, blond children chased two black-and-white spaniel puppies into the entrance hallway, with a slender black girl racing to keep up. The unruly moppets dashed among the adults as though through a forest, but their young nursemaid stopped and put her hands over her mouth.
“Oh, Mister Frederick, I’m so sorry,” she called above the chaos. “We didn’t know you had company.”
“It’s all right, Caddy.” Freddy grasped the tiniest offender by his shirt but seemed to have trouble keeping his balance. His cane saved him from plunging to the floor. “Whoa, Davy, slow down. Kezia, look who’s here.”
At that moment, a pretty little lady dashed down the stairs. “Children, please hush. Aunt Marianne is sleeping. Oh!” She caught sight of Dinah. “Dinah!” As she started across the floor, a puppy scampered toward the drawing room with the older boy in pursuit, nearly tripping her.
“Nooo, Jamie, you can’t have her,” the oldest child, a girl, shrieked. “That’s my puppy.” She dashed after the dog and the boy, whose giggling was filled with mischief. Freddy managed to keep a grip on a struggling Davy.
Servants rushed in from all directions and tried to sort out the melee. Thomas realized he was standing with his back to the wall and his hand on the hilt of his sword, a reflexive reaction, to be sure.
“Enough,” cried the little lady.
“That’s enough,” Freddy shouted at the same instant.
Everyone stopped. Except the pups. They had found a small rag and both tried to claim it, growling fiercely as each tugged on an end.
“Betty.” Freddy addressed a white servant who reminded Thomas of a servant from Bennington Manor who had come to East Florida. “Please take the dogs outside.”
The young woman curtseyed, then scooped up the wiggling pups and hastened out the front door.
“Caddy, take the children.”
“Noooo,” squealed the little girl. “No, Papá, I want to see the soldier.” She rushed over to Thomas, stopping just short of his knees, her face filled with wonder. “Are you a soldier?”
Thoroughly enchanted, Thomas opened his mouth to answer, but his brother cleared his throat…just as their father used to do, and all went quiet.
“Kezia, go with Caddy.”
“Yes, Papá.” The child’s expression fell into a heart-broken pout, complete with trembling lower lip. But no tears came forth.
Thomas was tempted to scoop her up and defend her. And tell her he was in the navy, a service far superior to the army. But he permitted no insubordination on his ship and would not support mutiny in his brother’s house. With difficulty, he resisted the child’s charms. With even more difficulty, he resisted the laughter inside him that threatened to demolish his composure.
Kezia hung her head as she took the servant’s hand, but she managed a winsome glance over her shoulder at Thomas. He thought his heart might burst. The lad called Jamie happily skipped along with them, while little Davy scampered to catch up.
For a full ten seconds, the adults watched the children leave. For Thomas’s part, he felt utterly captivated by the moppets. A deep longing welled up inside him, a painful ache that he had no child of his own. Nor even a family. Not even a wife. Yet.
Freddy was the first to shake off the spell. “Well, that was entertaining. And now, my dear—” he held out his hand to his wife “—come let me present my brother, Captain Thomas Moberly.”
“Captain Moberly, how nice to meet you.” She came forward, moving as gracefully as her taller cousin, and her eyes exuded a welcome that supported her words.
“Tommy, this is my beloved wife, Mrs. Moberly.” Freddy’s stare dared him to…what?
Thomas bowed and placed a kiss on her hand. “I am honored, madam.”
Her radiant countenance, so like Dinah’s, bespoke a woman content with her life. “And we are honored to have you in our home.”
Thomas gazed at her and then around the group of adults. And in an instant of shattering clarity, he at last understood his lifelong melancholy and hatred. Freddy, his spoiled younger brother, possessed everything that Thomas had been denied, everything he had longed for all his life. And if Dinah rejected his proposal, he would never have it.
Chapter Fifteen
Dinah watched Thomas exchange pleasantries with Rachel. Although she could not see her cousin’s face, she did have a full view of the man she loved. Amidst the confusion of dogs and children, she had still managed to catch glimpses of his reactions, and she felt more than a little concerned. Her beloved, if she might call him by that endearment, had appeared ill at ease since their arrival. He had not embraced his brother, nor had he shaken his hand. In return, Frederick had not seemed compelled to offer more than an obligatory greeting. Yet when their niece and nephews invaded the room, she had seen a tenderness in the c
aptain’s face, revealing perhaps the same affection she felt for those adorable children. How she wished they could talk privately so that she might inquire about the deep pain so evident in his intense blue eyes.
“Now,” Rachel said, “you must all freshen up from your journey, and then we’ll have tea in the drawing room in an hour.” She beckoned to the nearby servants, then sent them to prepare rooms. The young woman who had taken the dogs outside returned and looked to her mistress for instructions. “Betty, you will assist Miss Templeton.”
The servant curtseyed and moved to take her place beside Dinah, but the girl from St. Augustine stepped toward Rachel, eyeing Betty the whole time. “If you please, ma’am, I’m to see to Miss Templeton’s needs.”
Betty’s lips pinched and she sniffed, but she moved back.
Under other circumstances, Dinah would have laughed, but the last thing this household needed was dissension among the servants. Their employers faced sufficient friction to place this visit’s felicity in doubt.
“Ah, I see.” Rachel, always well-composed, smiled. “Well then, Betty, would you take charge of arranging tea? I’m sure our guests will need something substantial after their travels.”
Betty’s face brightened at this apparent elevation in her duties. “Aye, mum.” She curtseyed again. Then, with an imperious glance at Nancy, she glided from the room with her nose in the air.
“Dinah, dear—” Rachel appeared to struggle against a smile “—please make yourself comfortable in your usual room. You can tell your girl what you need.”
“I cannot go until you give me a proper greeting.” Dinah bent slightly to embrace her shorter cousin. Rachel’s firm responding hug felt welcoming indeed and did much to settle Dinah’s misgivings. “There. That’s much better.” She looked across the large front entry and found Thomas watching her. His brief nod further lifted her heart. “Rachel, do you think it would be all right if I peek into Marianne’s room?”
“Excuse me, Miss Rachel.” Joanna left her husband’s side and joined the ladies. “I would like to see Mrs. Templeton, too.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Rachel said. “She has been tired of late, and I will gladly release her to your care.”
An unpleasant feeling akin to jealousy surged through Dinah’s chest. But of course she could not tend to Marianne’s particular needs. In fact, being unmarried, she might not be permitted to attend her sister-in-law’s lying-in. But as she began her trek up the front staircase, followed by Joanna and Nancy, she gulped back her old feelings of rejection. Perhaps if she proved useful enough during this visit, Rachel and Marianne would welcome her fully into their circle instead of keeping secrets from her all the time. But another thought trumped that idea. If she became the captain’s wife, she would advance into that privileged company of married ladies. And perhaps Bennington Plantation could bear one more wife of a seafaring man while her husband went about his duties. Her heart lightened at the thought of living here with her family.
First, Thomas needed to reconcile with his brother. If only she could open his eyes to the similarities they shared. Why, they even looked alike: tall and broad-shouldered, with long black hair worn in identical queues. They had similar handsome features—except for minor differences in their patrician noses, and were separated in age by less than three years. But while Frederick’s dark-gray eyes had a mellow, placid look, the captain’s intense blue eyes could exude both ice and fire, cold steel and sunshine.
Dinah could see that the captain also held her in high regard, in fact, loved her. She lifted a silent prayer that he would not keep her waiting long before he declared himself…or made it clear that he found their match impossible.
At the top of the narrow staircase, she tiptoed across the wide board floor and quietly opened Marianne’s door. The beautiful English lady, who had forsaken the privileges of her title for love of Jamie, lay sleeping on her canopied bed. Her black hair was fanned across a white linen pillow, and her ivory complexion bore a slight flush, evidence of the day’s heat. Beside her, a small slave girl pulled a cord to keep the woven straw ceiling fan moving silently. The child gave Dinah a sweet smile, and she returned a tiny wave.
“I’ll wait to see her,” Dinah said to Joanna.
The midwife nodded and slipped past her into the bedchamber.
“Come along, Nancy.” Dinah felt strange ordering the girl about, but Nancy seemed pleased to be in her service. “We both need to be refreshed.”
In her own bedchamber, Dinah gazed about at the familiar décor, a bit nicer than her room in St. Augustine. Like Marianne’s chamber, this back corner room boasted windows on the adjacent walls. A pine-scented breeze stirred the mosquito netting that hung beneath the linen draperies. A canopied oak bed, a mahogany dressing table and chair, an upholstered wing chair, an oak bureau and a wash stand provided for Dinah’s comfort. Even the woven carpet added a touch of luxury unknown in the house she shared with Anne and Artemis. If invited to live here, she could easily call this home, could easily enjoy the comfortable life afforded by the plantation’s wealth.
Over these past four years, Rachel had encouraged her to stay in the capital city, where she had more of a chance to find a husband than in this wilderness. But now, having met Thomas, Dinah knew she would never wish to marry anyone else.
A longing to belong in this space, with these people, swept through her. What could she do to entice them to want her in return?
Thomas emerged from his appointed chamber refreshed. As always, his steward had quickly located water and towels and a clean uniform to make his master presentable. Thomas had considered donning civilian clothing, but that would put him on an even footing with Freddy, and he felt the urge to maintain his rank. After all, Freddy’s position as the local magistrate should induce him to wear some sort of fine clothing. Otherwise, how could he command respect amongst his neighbors?
Downstairs, he encountered a familiar, slightly stooped man. Memories swept into his mind of childhood mischief and servants having to restore what Thomas and his brothers had demolished: vases, hedges, stairway balusters.
“Summerlin?” He reached out a hand to his brother’s valet. The fragrance of mint drifted up from the man’s black muslin coat.
“Master Thomas—” The elderly man stared at the offered hand a moment before shaking it. “Ahem. I should say, Captain Moberly. How good to see you, sir. You are looking well, if I may say so.”
“And you, my good man.” Thomas studied him up and down. “You haven’t changed a bit in these past ten years. No doubt this East Florida weather agrees with you.”
“It does, sir. The rheumatism I suffered at home has disappeared.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Thomas glanced toward the empty drawing room. “Where might I find my brother?”
Summerlin stepped aside and waved down the house’s center hallway, which ran beside the staircase. “In his office, sir. The last door on the left.”
“Thank you. Carry on.”
As Thomas moved down the hall, his pulse rate increased. Good sense had prevailed earlier in regard to the delivery of his message. He had yet to see Marianne and did not want news of their father’s death known about the house lest a careless servant report it to her. But he could no longer put off telling his brother. As calm as he could be giving orders to his crew, even during battle, he now felt a pressure in his chest that threatened to explode. Was this grief? Anger? If grief, then he would much prefer to seek Dinah’s comforting presence. But he must face the fact that only Freddy could share this tremendous burden.
He tapped on the oak door, feeling much as he had as a midshipman aboard Captain—now Admiral—Howe’s ship, when he’d been called to the captain’s cabin after managing an order badly. That had been the changing point in his life, the point at which he vowed never to make another mistake in his duty again, no matter how distasteful his assignment might be. And this was certainly one of the most disagreeable tasks he’d ever been given.
Nonetheless, Thomas entered with all his senses heightened, expecting his brother’s typical arrogance.
Seated behind an ornate desk, Freddy looked up and his eyebrows arched. “Tommy. Come in. Sit down.” He waved toward a chair facing the desk. “You’ll forgive me if I do not get up.” His guarded expression made it clear that he did not welcome this meeting. “What can I do for you? Are your quarters adequate?”
“More than adequate.” Thomas sat in the damask chair and ran a hand over the white wood. “Thank you.” He stared at Freddy, who returned the look. It was almost like staring into a mirror, despite their different mothers. Obviously Father’s blood had dominated in both of their geneses.
“You bring ill tidings.”
Thomas nodded once.
Freddy’s eyes narrowed, as if he were expecting a blow.
“Bennington.” The word came out on a long, shaky breath, and with it, Thomas felt his chest sink.
“Ah.” Freddy slumped in his chair, mirroring Thomas once again. After several moments, during which his expression worked through several emotions—grief, worry, a hint of bitterness?—he inhaled a deep breath. “How is my mother?”
“She is well. And sends her love.”
Freddy’s eyes reddened. “We must not tell Merry. Not yet, I mean.”
“No.” Thomas appreciated his brother’s compassion for their sister. He seemed to have grown into a sensible man, and doubtless was more than competent in managing this plantation. A yearning opened in his soul to erase their childhood enmity. But how could he take the first step when he was the offended party? Twice offended, in fact. First for his own banishment, and even more so for Freddy’s neglect of Dinah. “I brought letters from your mother and our brothers.”
“Ah.” Freddy grunted. “I suppose I must now kiss William’s ring if I expect to remain in my present employment? How vexing to be required to call him Bennington.” He shook his head. “Forget I said that.”
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