“I’ll be down directly,” Gunn told Wooster. “Alice?” He took her hand. “Come with me.”
“Of course I will, my darling.” To the ends of the earth, she thought.
He took his bride, not to her bedroom, but to his. Closing the door behind them, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her fragrant hair.
“Oh, my love, I knew something like this would happen. Why? Why? I want you so badly. I wanted everything to be perfect for you this time.”
“Darling, I don’t mind. Really,” Alice soothed. “‘Whither thou goest…’” she quoted.
He held her at arm’s length and stared hard at her face. “Oh, no! You can’t come with me, Alice. It’s far too dangerous.”
Alice’s bright dream crumbled to ashes in that instant. “But of course I’ll come with you. I’m your wife, Chris.”
“Exactly! And I don’t intend to expose you to such horrors. You heard what Wooster said, they’re killing women and children, too. And if I know Scarappi and the others as well as I think I do, killing is the least painful of what they’ll do to their female captives. No, Alice. You really must stay here.”
He turned from her and began throwing clothes into a satchel. Alice grabbed his arm.
“If I can’t go, then you can’t, either!” She was near hysterical at the thought of being left behind.
Gunn turned to her, his face hard and his eyes narrowed. “I’ll pretend I never heard that.” Then he went back to his packing.
When Alice tried again to stop him, he thrust her away from him. “If you keep this up, there won’t be time for us before I have to go. I don’t want to leave my bride unbedded. We’ve both been forced to wait too long already.”
Alice took a step back, staring at him, her mouth open. She couldn’t believe this was happening. How could he even consider marrying her at noon, then leaving her before nightfall and telling her that he meant to enjoy the comforts of his bride before he dashed off to God-knows-where? Well, she’d have something to say about that.
“No!” she said bluntly. “If you leave me here, you leave, that’s all.”
Gunn stopped his packing and turned to her, studying her face. She was serious. Her blue eyes held a hard, steady glitter. Her mouth was set in a grim line. Her arms were crossed over her breasts like a protective shield.
“I have to go,” he said gently. “I’d give anything in the world to be able to stay here with you, Alice. You know how much I love you, how much I need you. But there are times when a man has to put aside his own needs for those of others. Come here.”
His soft tone and tender words worked their usual magic on Alice. She found herself in his arms, feeling his lips move over her face. His big, gentle hands cupped her breasts, sending warm thrills through her whole trembling body. She returned his kisses, growing more anxious by the moment. She loved him more than life itself. She needed him now. She wanted to give herself to her husband. How could she send him away before they were truly man and wife?
Let time stop, she begged silently. Don’t let us lose this precious moment.
They held each other for a long time—kissing, touching, caressing. It seemed to Alice that time had, indeed, stopped. Only her longing moved on and on, ever increasing, ever renewing itself.
“Darling,” Chris whispered, “please? We haven’t much time.”
She let him lead her to his narrow bed. She helped him with the tiny pearl buttons down the front of her bodice. She lay warm and purring under his hands and mouth as he stroked and kissed her bare breasts. She burned and ached for him. Now there was no need to wait, no time to waste. She was more than ready to give herself to him totally.
“Alice, oh, my darling Alice,” he murmured over her burning flesh. “Do you have any idea how I want you?”
His words fired her more. She tugged at his vest, trying to rip his clothes off.
“If only I didn’t have to go. How will I ever get through these next months without you?” he moaned.
His words struck her heart like a blizzard. Months? All the fire drained from her blood. She went suddenly numb all over.
“You can’t go, Chris! I won’t let you!”
He lifted his head from her breast and stared into her eyes. “Do you think I want to leave you? I’ll come back to you as soon as I can, but we need to prepare ourselves for the worst. Hostilities are likely to continue through the summer and into the fall. I may be forced to wait out the winter up there. But I’ll be home with the first thaw, long before then if it’s left up to me.”
She remained silent for a moment, her mind whirling. Yes, perhaps he did want to leave. He’d wanted for months to be back in Maine. Now he was about to get his wish. How cozy for him that he could leave his bride safely tucked away in Boston while he roamed his beloved wilds, a free man again. And if he needed a woman while he was away, he could pay a call on Ishani. She’d probably be happy to see him again. The thought struck unbearable pain in Alice’s heart. She sat up suddenly and shoved her husband’s hands away.
“If you really love me, you won’t go.”
Gunn rose from the bed in a jerky motion as if he’d just been hit in the face. “That’s not fair,” he complained.
“Your leaving me here is not fair. I’m your wife now, your first responsibility. Your duty lies here, Christopher Gunn.”
“My duty lies in saving lives, if I can. No wife has a right to make such selfish demands on her husband. What can you be thinking?”
Unshed tears caught in Alice’s throat, making it difficult for her to breathe. She loved this man so much, but she must stand her ground now or forever play a secondary role in his life.
“I’m thinking, husband, that if you want a right to be called by that name, you had better act the part.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” He came back to the bed, pulling off his shirt.
Alice quickly rebuttoned her bodice and drew away. “Oh, no,” she said with deadly calm. “You can’t have it both ways, Gunn. If you want to love me, you’ll take me with you. If you plan to leave alone, leave now.”
For several moments they did silent battle with their eyes. Neither gave way. Finally Chris began pulling off his clothes. Alice sat on the far side of the bed, her eyes wide as she watched her husband strip naked. The sight of his strong muscles and throbbing erection both thrilled and frightened her. She held her breath, hoping against all hope that he was about to lunge across the bed and rip her wedding gown off. Despite her threats, she still wanted him.
Her heart sank as he pulled on his buckskin trousers and shirt, preparing for his long ride back to Maine. Alice swallowed hard, aching to weep, but determined not to. She would not give him that satisfaction.
“You’re going then?” she finally managed.
He turned and stared at her, something between loathing and lust blazing in his dark eyes. “You know I have to. But I’ll be back for you and you’d better be here waiting.”
He went to the bed and pulled her to him. One hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back. He kissed her fiercely, then turned to leave.
As Alice heard the horses thunder away from the house, she collapsed on the bed, a bleak, cold ache possessing her heart.
Chapter 11
Alice would have liked to keep her secret between herself and her husband, but to her utter mortification she soon found out that every one of their wedding guests knew Christopher Gunn had departed without bedding his bride.
Making plans for the shivaree to follow the wedding, William Phips and several of his coconspirators had sawed nearly through the bed ropes in both Alice’s and Christopher’s rooms, not sure which the couple would retire to on their first night. The thud of the mattress crashing to the floor was to have been the guests’ signal to bring out their pot lids and wooden spoons, their cowbells and their duck calls for a raucous serenade that would have kept the couple from their appointed busi
ness for much of the night. But there had been no bedding, so there was no shivaree and no secret for Alice to hide.
The new Mrs. Gunn refused to see or talk with anyone the night her husband left, but the next morning Mary Phips demanded to be allowed to enter the room. She found yesterday’s bride, sullen and rumpled, still lying on the bed, where her husband had left her. She looked for all the world, Mary thought, like one of those old Indians who had decided simply to forget all else, go off alone, and die.
“My darling girl!” Mary cried, going to Alice and enfolding her in a motherly embrace. “This won’t do. It simply won’t do. You have to pull yourself together. You’ve had a horrible shock, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“It’s the end of mine,” Alice said with a weary sigh. “Chris left me. He left without even—”
“There, there, dear. I know all about it.”
Alice drew back, a grimace of horror on her face. “How could you know what happened between us last night?”
“The two of you weren’t exactly whispering to each other up here, Alice. I’m afraid we had no choice but to hear. Besides, my own William—that terrible man—confessed what he’d done to the bed.”
“The bed?” Alice looked puzzled.
Mary shifted her weight, trying to stall while she thought how to explain, and just then the frayed ropes let go. The two women shrieked and clung to each other as the mattress and bedclothes avalanched to the floor. Sheepishly, Mary explained to Alice about the shivaree as she helped her up.
“I’ll never be able to face any of them again,” Alice wailed. “Oh, Mary, this is the blackest day of my life.”
Mary reached out, ready to offer her more sympathy, but she changed her mind and drew back. Alice couldn’t go on this way. Her husband was likely to be gone for months. It was not all that unusual for husbands and wives to be separated for long periods. Mary herself had waited alone in Boston for five long years while Will gallivanted about the world on his treasure hunts and trips back and forth to England. It was time Alice grew up and learned to face reality.
“If only he’d let me go with him,” Alice wailed. “I could have stayed in the cabin. He must know I love him enough to give up Boston’s comforts to be with him.”
Mary shook her head. “Christopher was thinking of your safety first, dear. He doesn’t want you up there while the Indians are a constant threat.”
“I think he just doesn’t want me, period.”
“Enough of this moping!” Mary commanded.
Alice glanced up, shocked by her friend’s fierce tone.
“I mean it, young lady,” Mary said. “You’re not a child any longer, but a grown, married woman. Life isn’t always sunbeams and roses. We have to face the bad along with the good. Look at the bright side of things. While Christopher is away, I’ll have time to teach you everything you need to know about being a proper wife to him.”
“But I’m not his wife,” Alice moaned.
“Stop that, Alice Gunn,” Mary ordered severely. “You most certainly are his wife. And it’s high time you started acting the part. Your husband didn’t dash off on some harebrained scheme. He’s gone on a heroic mission, to save lives and to save the Maine territory for the king of England. He deserves better than a wife who sits about whining and feeling sorry for herself.”
“I’m not feeling sorry for myself,” Alice countered.
“Oh, really? Then tell me, Goodwife Gunn, exactly what are you doing?”
“I’m dying, Mary, just dying inside. I love Chris so much, and he left me. Now what am I to do?”
Mary felt a painful tug at her soft heart. Poor dear thing, she thought. But she kept a stiff upper lip. “First off, I suggest you get out of that rumpled wedding gown, wash your face, brush your hair, and get ready for breakfast. You probably need a good hot meal right now more than anything else. So go to your own room now, Alice, and make yourself presentable. I’ll see you downstairs directly.”
Mary gave Alice no chance to argue, but swished immediately out of the room.
Alice still wanted to scream and throw things and sob her heart out as she’d wanted to all night. Her eyes burned from holding herself back. She rubbed them hard, trying to force even a single tear, but to no avail. Through the years following her mother’s final edict, she’d lost her ability to weep.
As she rubbed her eyes, the shiny new wedding band felt cold against her cheek. She glanced at it, then held her hand up to the sunlight streaming through the window. It shimmered brightly, a halo glowing on her hand.
“Oh, Chris,” she said, sighing. “This time yesterday…” She refused to finish the thought. Yesterday was gone forever. Today and tomorrow were all that mattered.
Squaring her shoulders, she headed for the door. Mary was absolutely right. All this moaning and sighing would simply age her before her time. She glanced in the mirror over Chris’s shaving stand. She was young, she was pretty, she was alive, and she was also in love and married to the man who had claimed her heart. She would dream of Chris at night, but she would not pine away for him. She would simply have to get on with her life.
As she started for the door, she spied her husband’s discarded wedding clothes in a heap near the fallen bed. Reaching down, she picked up his shirt and held it to her lips. The warm smell of him clung to the fabric. Ignoring her pledge of a moment ago, Alice allowed herself one last moment of self-pity before she hurried from the room.
The gentle weeks of spring proved painful to Alice, but she refused to give in to the ache in her heart. Following Mary’s instructions, she learned how to bake, make soap and candles, and spin thread and weave cloth. Each day seemed busier than the one before it. Mary refused to allow the newlywed to sit home alone, saying, “You’re not a widow any longer, my dear, but a wife. And women love the company of other women. You’ll have little enough social life once Christopher returns to cart you off to the wilds.”
So Alice visited Mary’s neighbors, attended quilting bees, musicales, and church gatherings. Mary even took her to hear the much fabled Reverend Cotton Mather, though Alice cringed all through the service. It seemed to her that the Puritan preacher’s booming voice was aimed directly at her. She felt his threats of eternal damnation like cannon shots aimed point-blank at her soul. The man’s fierce eyes seemed to blaze at her. She slunk lower and lower in her seat as his sermon on the foibles of females raged on.
After the lengthy service Alice tried to hurry Mary away from the Salem Meeting House, but her ploy failed. Reverend Mather caught them and clung to Alice’s arm with a vise-like grip.
“Ah, Lady Phips, I’m happy you’ve finally honored our humble congregation with your august presence. And this must be the widow who has recently wed.” Although he spoke to Mary, his pale, galvanizing gaze remained on Alice. “You would have done well to heed my warning. That union was the devil’s work. I’ve heard what happened afterward.” He shook his great head at them both. “’Twas an evil affair with a fitting end.”
“There’s been no end to it, sir,” Mary countered. “This woman’s husband was called away on the king’s business. He’ll return, and return a hero.”
Reverend Mather clucked his tongue. Ignoring Mary’s reply, he continued gazing at Alice. “Read your Bible, Goodwife Gunn, and heed its teachings lest the devil steal into your life once more.”
With a gasp of pure outrage Mary tugged Alice away from the man and headed at a near-trot for their carriage.
“What did he mean, Mary?” Alice demanded in a panic.
“Pay no attention to him. I should never have brought you here. The man’s a pompous fanatic. I’m glad he refused to preside over your wedding. I hope we’ve seen the last of him and the Salem Meeting House. I’ll certainly not darken that door ever again.”
Mary dismissed the entire incident with a snort and a frown, but Alice could not as easily erase Cotton Mather’s warning to her.
The arrival
of summer brought little relief to Alice’s troubled mind. Several short messages arrived from Chris, telling her he was well and that he missed her. But still he could give her no hint as to when he might return. The situation in Maine, he said, was still dangerous and unpredictable, and talks with Baron de Saint Castin were at a stalemate. “We’re sitting on a powder keg up here” was the way he described the situation in one of his letters. His words did little to ease her.
One surprise development of July at first distressed Alice, but turned out to be rather a pleasant arrangement all around. Will Phips contracted Jonathan Hargrave to captain one of his new ships. While construction of the vessel was being completed, Will asked Hargrave to move out of his room at the inn and into the Phips home, residing in the guest room Gunn had formerly occupied. Though Will was not terribly fond of the captain, he had to admit Hargrave was one of the best seamen in Boston, and he hoped they could work closely together even after normal business hours. And with Alice married and Gunn away, Phips did not anticipate further trouble from him, particularly under his Mary’s roof.
Alice would have raged in protest when she first heard the news, but since she was accepting the Phipses’ hospitality, she felt she had no right to dictate whom they allowed to stay in their other spare rooms.
The first few days after Jonathan moved in proved uncomfortable for him and Alice. Meals became silent, strained affairs, and the rest of the time Alice avoided him as often as she could.
It was not until one hot night in August that the emotional ice melted. Mary, Alice, and Will had been sitting in the side yard after supper, trying to catch a cool breeze off the river. Captain Hargrave had been away from the house all day and had not returned for the evening meal. Now, as the stars twinkled overhead and the oppressive heat of the long day faded to gentle warmth, the three friends sat together chatting about nothing that would tax their brains.
Silver Tears Page 17
