by Sara Donati
Elizabeth didn’t know what to make of this man, but he certainly was not the prim and disapproving country gentleman she had expected. He shook hands with such enthusiasm that she found herself grinning absurdly.
“Good to see you, Anton,” said Nathaniel with a broad grin of his own. “Let me make you acquainted—”
But at that moment the children, who had heard the commotion and given up their game, arrived on the scene. They were older than Elizabeth had first thought, boys of about fourteen, and a girl perhaps twelve with plaits flying free and wild, her cheeks red with exertion and her dress ripped. There was a moment of frozen silence, and then the whole band of them launched themselves at Runs-from-Bears, the boys in a unified front at his head, the girl flinging herself around his torso. In no time at all they had pulled him down to the ground and sat, looking pleased with themselves, on his chest and arms.
It was Elizabeth’s strong impression that Runs-from-Bears, thoughtful and serious as was his habit, was enjoying this game. Otherwise, she reasoned, he could simply have tossed them off. He had a smile on his face which said this was an indignity he could live with. That lasted as long as the first pinch, which one of the boys inflicted with a total lack of decorum to Runs-from-Bears’ nose.
“It’s all right.” Nathaniel laughed at Elizabeth’s horrified look. “They just need to get this out of the way.”
The wrestling match which followed was punctuated by a conversation which made it clear that the youngsters and Runs-from-Bears all considered this confrontation fair price to pay for stepping onto their territory. Anton was watching them with some great amusement, his hamlike fists on his hips, when he seemed suddenly to remember his company.
“Come on now, enough for the moment. Your granny will be wondering what we’re up to. And where’s the general? Johnnie!” He turned and started back toward the house in a thumping march, turning back toward them so suddenly that his wig threatened to part company with the shiny slope of his head.
“Boys! Mathilde! Leave Bears alone before he decides you’ll do for his dinner!” And he laughed uproariously at his own wit. “Aren’t you coming?” he said to Nathaniel and Elizabeth. “Let’s go up to the house, see what’s keeping General Schuyler and the missus.”
Nathaniel took Elizabeth by the arm and with a backward glance at the wrestling match that carried on behind them, he set off.
“Who is that?” she whispered when the big man was a few steps ahead of them and bellowing once again toward the house.
“Anton Meerschaum. The overseer. Look,” Nathaniel said, “here she comes. Brace yourself for Mrs. Schuyler.”
It was a bit like being enveloped in a great warm fog. Mrs. Catherine Schuyler took one long look at Elizabeth, listened to Nathaniel’s brief introduction, and drew her into her home and her protection without a question or word of doubt.
In a short time she saw her guests settled at her good dining table. The door to the kitchen passage began to swing busily and in minutes two young women had set and filled the board, casting shy glances not so much at Elizabeth as at Nathaniel. There was no opportunity for talk, but Elizabeth was not unhappy with that for the moment. She listened to Mrs. Schuyler ask Nathaniel and Runs-from-Bears about people and happenings in Paradise, and she realized with some surprise how familiar the woman was with the smallest circumstances of her home.
When they had eaten—Elizabeth managed only some ale, cold fowl, and a bit of bread—Mrs. Schuyler put her small hands flat on the table before her. This was a strange gesture; Elizabeth’s own hands were folded tightly in her lap. But it was also, somehow, a comforting one, as it matched the kind but firm set on the woman’s face.
“Tell me, Miss Middleton,” she began. “How exactly it is that you come to visit us in the company of Nathaniel Bonner and Runs-from-Bears?”
In the months Elizabeth had spent in the city of New-York waiting to travel north, and the four months she had been in Paradise, she had slowly become familiar with what Yorkers called straightforwardness of purpose. But still, Mrs. Schuyler’s directness took her by surprise. Elizabeth glanced at Nathaniel and saw that he was not in the least worried by the nature of the question. On the river he had been cautious and watchful and tense, but here he was relaxed. He shrugged at her, as if to push her off on her own in this conversation.
“We are—were—on our way to Albany,” she began. And then, realizing how important it was to remain calm and to keep Mrs. Schuyler’s gaze firmly in her own, she continued. “I have some business to attend to. And we are to marry there.” And then, calmly: “Nathaniel and I.”
“That much I assumed,” Mrs. Schuyler replied. “Are you eloping?”
“I am twenty-nine years old,” Elizabeth replied slowly. “And I have decided to marry.”
Mrs. Schuyler’s round face had been calm, even impassive, but now there was a little tic at the corner of her mouth.
“Your father does not approve of your choice?”
“I haven’t sought his permission,” she said. “For reasons that I do not wish to share.” Too late, Elizabeth realized what Mrs. Schuyler would most certainly assume as the most probable reason for wanting to marry in haste. In the same moment, she also realized that this might in fact be the case. She had been calm, but now she felt herself coloring, but she kept her gaze on Mrs. Schuyler and would not look away.
“Well, Miss Middleton,” Mrs. Schuyler said. “I think very little of elopements, I must tell you. Our eldest daughter eloped and it was a terrible day for me. A terrible day. But then again, these are different circumstances and you strike me as an intelligent woman.”
She addressed the men without looking away from Elizabeth.
“Is she that, Nathaniel?”
“She is,” he said, almost grimly.
“Does she get on with Hannah?”
He nodded. “Aye.”
“And Bears, what do you think?”
“I think she has earned the name Chingachgook gave to her, Bone-in-Her-Back,” said Runs-from-Bears. “But today I gave her the name Looks-Hard.”
This was the longest sentence Elizabeth had ever heard from him in English, and certainly the most startling thing she had heard him say as well. She thought of the canoe, and her careful study of Nathaniel, and she bit down hard on her cheek, determined not to say a word.
“But she thinks hard, too,” he finished with a rare grin.
Mrs. Schuyler seemed to come to a conclusion. “I would say she must,” she said with a sudden smile that transformed her face into something almost pretty. “To see the value of Nathaniel Bonner where other Englishwomen would see only buckskin and hands that know the meaning of work.” She nodded to Elizabeth. “Your father is a business associate of my husband’s,” she said. “And we owe him our friendship. But Cora Bonner was more than a sister to me, and my eldest son would not be alive today without Nathaniel’s help in a most difficult time. He has a home with us, whenever he should wish to claim it. Now, so do you, as his wife.”
“She ain’t my wife yet,” Nathaniel said. “But we was hoping you could lend a hand and call in the preacher.”
There was a scuffle at the door, and a giggle. Mrs. Schuyler sent a disapproving look in that direction. “We hadn’t planned on a wedding today,” she said. “But we would be honored, Nathaniel. I believe that the preparations have already commenced.” There was another stifled laugh from behind the kitchen door. She rose.
“I have some things to speak to the housekeeper about if there’s to be a wedding—”
“We don’t need anything too fancy,” said Nathaniel. “Just a legal ceremony and your good wishes’d be appreciated.”
“Is that so?” Catherine Schuyler smiled. “I think it will take a bit more than that. I need to talk to my Sally about shifting the girls around so that we can provide Miss Middleton with a room.”
“We won’t be staying the night,” said Nathaniel. “We’ve got to be on the way to Albany.”
&nbs
p; Mrs. Schuyler had been moving toward the kitchen passageway door, but she stopped, and drew herself up to her full height before facing Nathaniel.
“Nonsense,” she said. “You will have your wedding dinner with us, and retire here, like the civilized people you are. Whatever business you have in Albany can wait until tomorrow.” Her look dared Nathaniel to challenge her.
Elizabeth knew that Nathaniel’s worries were well founded. In the hurried conversations with Hawkeye before they left, it had become clear to all of them that it was not enough for Nathaniel to marry Elizabeth. It was crucial that they file the paperwork in Albany and that Nathaniel pay the taxes as her husband, so that there could be no challenge to the validity of the deed of gift, or her status as a married woman. All this had to happen before Richard Todd or her father could raise suspicions that might slow down any part of the process.
“We should be on our way,” Elizabeth agreed, regretfully. “Although your kind offer is greatly appreciated.” She would have liked to spend her wedding night here in the privacy of a room of her own rather than out in the open with Runs-from-Bears nearby.
“There’s business needs doing in Albany, and it can’t wait,” Nathaniel added.
Mrs. Schuyler’s bright blue eyes narrowed just slightly as she looked back and forth between them.
“What business is that?” she asked finally.
“I have some property,” Elizabeth said. “The taxes need to be paid. And there are some debts of my father’s I’d like to settle,” she added, and then wondered why she had.
“I believe that my husband can be of some assistance to you in that matter,” Mrs. Schuyler said quietly. “Unless there is some other reason you wish to be on your way so quickly.”
Elizabeth saw doubt flit across Nathaniel’s face, and then, with a glance at her, he shrugged. “If General Schuyler can lend a hand with sorting out the paperwork, then we’ll stay and be glad of the warm,” he said. “It’s cold at night still on the river.”
“So it is,” Catherine Schuyler admitted with considerable satisfaction, and she excused herself to go speak to her housekeeper.
“Bears,” she said, turning back from the door. “Perhaps you could go after Anton and General Schuyler and see what is keeping them. I would guess they are down at the sawmill. They will want to hear the news, and then,” she said with a satisfied smile, “there is work enough to keep them busy.”
Elizabeth, keenly aware of being alone with Nathaniel, walked to the window to look down the sloping lawns toward the Hudson. It was mid-afternoon, a beautiful and clear day. Her wedding day. She put her forehead against the pane of glass and forced herself to breathe deeply.
He came up behind her and she put out her hand to him. Nathaniel took it silently, and tugged her so that she had to pivot to face him, stepping backward until her shoulders touched the wall. He was unshaven, and his face was worn with sleeplessness. But in his eyes there was no tension, and something else, something fine and welcome to her.
“We could both use a good night’s sleep,” she said softly, feeling the rough flocking on the wallpaper against her lower arms where she pressed her hands flat.
“Could we both?” Nathaniel asked with a half smile. “Aye, I suppose we could.” With one arm propped on the wall above her head, he leaned in toward her, his head at an angle. From the corner of her eye Elizabeth saw the door crack open and then slap smartly closed; heard the giggle.
“People are watching,” she whispered.
“Then let’s make it worth their trouble,” he said, and he kissed her there against Mrs. Schuyler’s good wallpaper.
When she could trust her voice she said, “Is that the best you can do?”
Nathaniel grinned at that. “Well,” he said slowly, his breath moving the hair at her temple. “I’m mighty tired, you understand, and I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep. But I’ll give it another go.”
There was a warm, newly familiar pulsing in Elizabeth’s stomach as Nathaniel leaned toward her, his shoulders blocking out the rest of the room to put them in a corner of their own. First there was just the touch of his tongue at the indentation of her upper lip, and then there was his mouth, warm and curious, and the taste of him, and what it did to her, the memories it pulled to the surface. She raised her hands and put them on his chest, letting her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, holding him tight while she kissed him back. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her up closer. She felt him from head to toe.
“I hear there’s a wedding today,” said a man’s voice at the door. “And I see that it won’t be one minute too soon.”
The contrast that General Schuyler drew to his overseer would have been comic if it weren’t for the obvious regard they had for each other. Philip Schuyler was a genteel, fastidious man of carefully chosen words, trim build, and elegant if somewhat outdated dress, but he consulted his overseer as if he were a king rather than a rough, loud barrel of a man wearing a twenty-year-old wig with a mind of its own.
“We could send MacDonald,” General Schuyler suggested, and then listened with great attention while Anton Meerschaum explained why such a thing was impossible.
“Then I’ll go myself,” he said quietly. “If you and Miss Middleton will trust me with your business concerns.”
Nathaniel glanced at Elizabeth, and she nodded at him. It was right for him to handle this discussion with Philip Schuyler, but she was inordinately pleased that he was sensitive enough to ask her permission to do so.
They had the patent and the deed of gift on the table in front of them. General Schuyler had looked at them carefully; Elizabeth knew that the date on the deed had not escaped his attention. But no look of surprise or censure came from him. Then, with precision and an understanding of the law that was simple and exacting, he outlined the steps that needed to be taken to secure their claims.
“Will you return to Paradise, then, if this business in Albany can be seen to without your attendance?” he asked Nathaniel.
“No,” Nathaniel said shortly. “It’s best if we stay out of Paradise a while, until things settle a ways. If you will look after the paperwork, and keep it safe.”
“That I will,” said Philip Schuyler. “And I will arrange for word to be sent to the judge. Unless, Miss Middleton, you would like to write to him yourself?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I would much appreciate your assistance, sir, if you would be so kind—”
“It is a small thing,” he said. “I am delighted to oblige.”
It was clear to Elizabeth by now that Nathaniel’s status here was more than that of son of a dear friend. He was treated with a respect and regard that she had not anticipated, but which she found deeply gratifying. In the hour they had spent talking about the business concerns, at least seven men had come in, hats in hand, to greet Nathaniel and Runs-from-Bears, each of them with real joy and enthusiasm. Two of them had been Mr. Schuyler’s sons, young men of fifteen and twenty years, eager to talk. They were sent on their way with promises of an evening party, and the discussion returned to the matter of the property and taxes.
Elizabeth’s attention wandered to the rest of the household, which had been thrown into a panic of activity. Three of the Schuylers’ grandchildren were in attendance, she had found out, as well as the four youngest of their own eight, as yet unmarried children. The house, while neat and well planned, was ill suited to numbers of this kind and it bulged with people running this way and that, all with jobs to do. The parlor was being scrubbed, although Elizabeth saw not a speck of dirt anywhere. There were young women with their sleeves rolled up, boys with baskets of food and greenery, candles and silverplate, and everywhere was Mrs. Schuyler’s Sally, directing the preparations with a sharp eye.
Mrs. Schuyler herself appeared and gestured to Elizabeth.
“Nathaniel?” Elizabeth asked. “Do you need me here? Can I go ahead with Mrs. Schuyler?”
He touched her hand briefly and nodded. Eli
zabeth was reluctant to leave him, but she followed Catherine Schuyler upstairs.
“I want you to know,” said Mrs. Schuyler as soon as she had closed the door behind them in the room which had been prepared for Elizabeth. “That we are very pleased and honored to be able to be of assistance to you today. That is simply true. But,” she added, and she held up one hand. “This is a strange business, if you’ll pardon my saying so, and I’m uneasy about it.”
“Your husband sees no legal impediment to my marriage,” Elizabeth said lamely.
“Come, my dear,” Mrs. Schuyler said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “My husband is a man above all things, and he sees only that piece of this puzzle which concerns him. There is something else afoot here, and I wonder what it is. No.” She stopped herself. “I am not going to ask, and I don’t want you to tell me. I trust Nathaniel, and he loves you—that is enough.” She turned to look out the window. In the distance, a mill could be seen on the banks of a waterway, but it stood quiet now, the fields and pastures abandoned for the moment.
“You are tired, and you would like to rest and prepare yourself. The minister will be here in an hour’s time. Can you be ready by half past five? Good. Then afterward we will have our dinner and a little party.”
“How kind of you,” Elizabeth said.
Catherine Schuyler stood. “I am near to sixty years old, and I hope that I have learned some things from the mistakes I have made in my life. Perhaps the most important is the need to let young people make their own decisions. Now.” She looked about herself in a businesslike way. “I will have a bath sent up, and our Jill will look after your needs. You will ask for whatever you require.” This was not a question, but a statement of fact. Elizabeth nodded her thanks.
