Bewitching Kissing
Page 11
“He’s not distressed enough to come,” Agatha pouted, and again folded her arms across her chest.
Sarah shook her head. They were two of a kind, grandmother and grandson.
“Pass me that bowl,” Agatha commended, suddenly realizing that her treasure was out of reach.
Sarah placed the bowl back on the woman’s lap and smiled as Agatha popped another berry in her mouth. “If you eat too many, you shall make yourself sick,” she cautioned.
Agatha looked own her thin nose. “Why should I care? There’s a better than even chance that I’ll be sick tomorrow even without the berries.”
“Why does everyone insist on gambling?” Sarah shifted her position on her stool. “It seems to be a way of life in this town.”
“And just who have you seen gambling?” Agatha challenged.
Sarah studied her hands. “Well, no one actually, but everyone is constantly referring to it. Don’t they know gambling is a sin?”
“Probably not,” Agatha said. “You’ll have to enlighten them.” She studied Sarah in silence. “You know, you remind me of my sister. Same clear porcelain skin and thick, dark lashes. I always hated Hallie for those lashes.”
Sarah sat quietly. She was beginning to realize that in Virginia, what was said often was not what was meant.
“That must be it,” Agatha continued as she licked the chocolate from her twisted fingers. “You remind me of my sister. That must be why I feel so melancholy.”
“Would you truly like me to leave?”
Agatha, mouth full of strawberry, shook her head, making the lace cap shift about her wispy white hair. “Now that you’re here, you might as well stay,” she said finally. “You know I haven’t thought about Hallie for the longest time. We used to have such grand adventures together.”
“Tell me,” Sarah prompted. And Agatha did.
The afternoon sun painted the bedroom with dusty shadows, but neither Agatha nor her guest noticed. Lost in the memories of her youth, Agatha found a captive audience in Sarah. No matter how insignificant the story, to Sarah it was fascinating. She marveled at Agatha’s daring and total disregard for the confines of society. And more than once she suppressed a giggle when she thought of Agatha living in Salem. Rebecca would love to hear the stories, but Sarah knew even she would be shocked by Agatha’s devil-may-care attitudes. In the midst of a particularly scandalous tale, both women were startled by the rap on the door.
Sarah scrambled awkwardly to her feet as Nick crossed the room.
“And how is my favorite girl?” He gave Agatha’s pale cheek a hearty kiss, then turned to gaze at Sarah. Wisps of midnight hair had pulled free from her cap to curl about her delicate features. “I see your visitor is still alive and sports no visible bruises. Can I conclude than that you have had a good day?” His dark-sapphire eyes smiled down at his grandmother, and Sarah felt her knees melt.
Agatha gave his hand a playful swat. “Behave yourself, Nicky. Sarah brought me strawberries.”
“She did, did she?” Nick’s eyes returned to her, and Sarah felt the heat in the room intensify. “And you saved none for me?” His wounded expression made Agatha smile.
“Not a one,” she said smugly.
“Yes, we did,” Sarah answered at the same time. She blushed as both grandmother and grandson turned to stare at her. “I asked Wadsworth to reserve some for your supper tonight.”
“Well, well.” Nick turned a satisfied smile back to his grandmother. “It seems that someone is watching out for me after all. Thank you, Sarah.”
Sarah turned her innocent eyes from one to the other, knowing she had missed something, but not sure what.
“Humph.” Agatha’s mouth pulled down at the corners. “At least Sarah saw fit to bring me a gift, which is more than I can say for you.”
Nick’s dark eyes widened with surprise. “You expect me to bring you a gift?”
Agatha shrugged. “That would have been nice. But, as usual, I see you are empty- handed.”
“Ah, that I am,” Nick teased, placing his arm gently about his grandmother’s frail shoulders. “Definitely empty-handed. But that simply makes it easier for me to hug you.”
Agatha struggled to hide her smile as she tried to push him away. “I would rather have had a present.”
“Ah, Gran.” He kissed her cheek, inhaling the rose scent that clung to her clothing. “It just so happens that I have a gift for you, too.” He gave Sarah a wink and then reached into his pocket to retrieve the package.
Agatha hesitated a moment, holding the package in the palm of her hand. The sparkle of her eyes spoke of her excitement even as she tried to pout. “I don’t know if I should bother – “
“Oh, but ‘tis lovely,” Sarah interrupted, not knowing this was a game they played each time Nick brought his grandmother a gift. “You must open it.”
Agatha raised a brow and gave Nick a searching look. “How is it that Sarah knows about my present?”
Nick shook his head as he read the true question behind Agatha’s words. “Why don’t you just open it,” he said firmly, refusing to rise to her bait.
Without waiting for permission, but knowing that Agatha could never manage the wrapping, Nick unfastened the package and placed it back in her hand so she had only to lift back the paper to view her surprise. Sarah waited with stilled breath as Agatha peeled back the wrapping.
“Oh, Nicky.” Agatha beamed as she discarded the brown paper and palmed the necklace. “It is beautiful.” She awkwardly held the chain higher to better view the workmanship. “Did Walter Johnson make this?” She peered at the design wishing she had a party to go to where she might show it off. “He probably charged you an arm and a leg for it. His prices are always too dear.”
“If you don’t care for it, I could take it back,” Nick teased.
Agatha bared her teeth and snarled in his direction. “Don’t you dare try to take back my present. I declare, Nicky, I think this is the nicest thing you have ever given to me.”
Nick smiled, genuinely pleased that Gran was happy. “You say that about everything I give you.”
“Agatha shook her head and pressed the necklace between her knotted hands. “I definitely think that this is the best present ever.”
“Sarah picked it out.” Even as the words left his mouth, Nick knew he had made a mistake. But he almost laughed out loud at the stunned expressions on both their faces.
“Oh . . ."
A thousand questions echoed in the single word Agatha uttered, and Nick knew it was timely to make his exit. “We have to be going, Gran. But I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
Agatha watched her grandson turn, and noted the faintest blush that touched his high cheekbones. Well, well, well, she thought. This is an interesting kettle of fish. “Sarah,” she turned to the girl. “The necklace is lovely. You have a keen eye for quality. But tell me, what did Nick give you?”
Not realizing she had just been outwitted, and unused to deception of any type, Sarah immediately stepped forward and extended her arm allowing the bracelet to slip from beneath her cuff. “‘Tis the most beautiful thing I have ever received,” she said, holding forth her arm for Agatha’s inspection. Agatha’s bent fingers touched the bracelet and she smiled knowingly. Sarah felt a suffocating guilt suddenly surround her. What am I doing? She thought frantically. ‘Tis bad enough I have accepted such a gift, but now I am flaunting it. Her cheeks grew hot and, as quickly as she could, she pulled back her arm and tried to tuck the piece back under her sleeve.
“If you do that,” Agatha nodded toward her wrist, “no one will be able to see your beautiful gift.” She watched the color stain the young girl’s cheeks, and the wheels in Agatha’s sharp mind spun faster. She turned back to her grandson and found him also captivated by Sarah’s sudden discomfort. Well, well, well, she repeated to herself. Just what do we have here?
“You must stay for dinner, Nick,” Agatha commanded in her strongest voice.
Nick smiled but shook his
head. He could almost hear his grandmother’s thoughts. “I have business later this evening.”
“Then leave Sarah to dine with me and fetch her on your return.”
Nick touched Sarah’s shoulder and motioned her toward the door so she wouldn’t be pulled into his grandmother’s trap. “Not tonight Gran. I’ll stop in and see you one the morrow.”
Agatha folded her arms across her chest, her foot tapping against the hard wood floor. “I think you have more than business on your mind, Nicholas Beaumont.”
Nick gave Sarah a gentle nudge out the door before crossing back to place a kiss on his grandmother’s head. “I have business in Jamestown tomorrow. I’ll stop by on my way to the docks.”
Agatha gave him a horrified look. “Nicholas Beaumont, don’t you dare call on this house before noon. You know how I hate rushing in the morning.”
“Afraid I’ll catch you in your nightrail?” he teased, flashing her a devilish grin.
“You come on your way home, that way you can tell me what’s going on.”
Nick smiled and executed a courtly bow. “I am your servant, Madame.”
Agatha snorted. “And the day I believe that, pigs will fly.” But Nick had already closed the door and her words amused no one but herself. With great effort, Agatha pulled at the heavy brocade drapery to stare out the window. She could see Nick’s carriage and, within moments, Nick and Sarah came into view. Agatha watched her grandson hold Sarah’s arm to assist her, his laughter ringing in the air.
Well, well, well, she thought again. Neither Nick nor Sarah looked up toward the window where she sat, and neither knew that she stared after them until the carriage was completely out of view.
Agatha let the curtain fall back in place and thought about Nick’s visit. He might have come to see her, but he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from the girl. He’s in love, she thought. He’s in love and he hasn’t even realized it yet. A strange unsettling feeling seeped into her bones, and Agatha suddenly longed for her bed. Nick would marry and then he’d never have time to visit or take a meal with her. He’d want to spend all his time with his new bride. Agatha felt her chest grow tight and her eyelids sting. He’d make a call out of duty now and then, but he’d be too busy with his new family to be really interested in an old woman like herself. She felt tears gather and sniffed hard. Her trembling hand reached for the golden bell to fetch the maids, then she paused.
Perhaps Nick’s being in love wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. Sarah was a sweet girl and a grand improvement over Marigold Thurmont. She would be good for Nick, Agatha decided, thinking of the afternoon they had just spent. Agatha pressed her knotted fingers together and rested her chin on her hand. With a little badgering, Sarah would probably urge Nicky to spend even more time with her, she thought, and her spirits began to brighten. And if Nick gets married, she realized suddenly, then I’ll get grandbabies. The image of holding Nick’s child on her lap sent joy seeping into every joint of her aching body. The notion of losing her grandson slowly gave way to a plan that would ensure Sarah remained in Virginia.
Agatha worked out the entire scheme in her mind, then rethought her logic the way Roger had always insisted she do with business matters.
“It will work,” she declared triumphantly to the empty room. A new sense of purpose made her giddy with excitement as she reached for the bell.
Luther entered, carrying a silver tray with her medicine cup.
“I already fixed the drink, Miss Agatha,” he stated proudly. “It’s not too hot and just the way Miss Sarah showed me. So you drink it right up now.”
Impatiently, Agatha balanced the cup and, to Luther’s amazement, drank the potion straight down without a protest.
“Luther,” Agatha tried to hide her growing enthusiasm, “I’d like you to arrange for Mr. Danvers to call upon me tomorrow. I have some legal matters I wish to discuss with him.”
Luther rubbed his chin and looked confused. “I thought I heard Master Nick say that Mr. Danvers wasn’t your attorney no more.”
Agatha grinned with satisfaction. “You’re absolutely right. Mr. Danvers no longer works for Beaumont Shipping. But I have matters of a personal nature.”
“You sure, Miss Agatha? I thought you didn’t care for that man.”
Agatha smiled and, with some difficulty, rubbed her fingers together. “I can’t abide the man. But for what I have in mind, Michael Danvers will be perfect.” She looked up, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m going to need an ace in the hole for this hand, Luther. And if I have my way Mr. Michael Danvers, attorney-at-law, is going to become my ace.”
Luther folded his arms across his massive chest. “And just how is it that I already know that you don’t’ want me to say nothing to Master Nick?”
Agatha gave her servant a conspiratorial wink. “Things are going to be wonderful around here, Luther. You just trust me and wait and see. And Luther . . .” she said as he turned to do her bidding, “make sure that Mr. Danvers calls on me well before noon.”
Luther nodded and left the room. Young Ruby entered, gave a curtsy to her mistress, and began to light the tapers to push back the night. But Agatha never noticed. With her shawl pulled tight about her shoulders, she began to gently rock to and fro.
Ruby paused to stare at her mistress. In the three years she had worked for Miss Agatha, she had never heard the woman sing. But now Miss Agatha was humming a lullaby. Fascinated, she watched from the corner of her eye until her task was completed. Wait until they hear this in the kitchen! she thought. With a quick curtsy, the girl silently made her exit.
Agatha never noticed. She was completely absorbed with thoughts of holding Nicky’s child.
Chapter Ten
“But I want you to have it.”
Sarah stared in wonder at the vibrant woolen threads that cascaded over her palm. “Mrs. Beaumont, these are too beautiful to give away.”
Agatha shifted against her pillows then wished she hadn’t moved. “What they are is too pretty to keep locked up in that old chest.” She smothered a groan then relented. “Sarah, could you help me?”
Sarah rose from where she knelt beside an ornately carved chest. “You ate too many strawberries yesterday,” she scolded, but her hands were gentle as she resettled Agatha in her high tester bed.
“Rubbish, the ache in my bones ahs nothing to do with strawberries,” Agatha huffed.
“No, but the ache in your stomach does.” Sarah raised a brow as Agatha began to pout.
“Are you gong to finish unpacking that chest or are you going to stand there staring at me all day?” Agatha folded her arms and returned Sarah’s glare measure for measure. Sarah smiled, shook her head, and moved back to the chest.
“I meant it when I said I want you to take that yarn.” Agatha gestured to the loose bundles that Sarah had just set aside.
Sarah picked up the brightly colored hanks and knew they cost a pretty penny. Indigo, saffron, and a bright cherry-red sparkled in the sunlight while a wide assortment of greens and browns still covered the floor.
“I started to make a set of chair settees, but after making one, I lacked the patience to see it through. Do you see them?” Agatha peered over the foot of the bed. “They should be in there somewhere. Unless they’ve fallen apart by now.”
“Here they are,” Sarah cheered triumphantly. She unfolded a large square of heavy linen to reveal an intricate pattern of animals and fruit trees. “Did you do this?” Her fingers traced over the complex stitches and the delicate shading.
Agatha nodded with pride, but her smile faded as she looked down at her gnarled hands. “I always meant to go back and finish those. But now,” she sighed deeply, “it’s too late. Still,” she brightened, “I could have the finished piece made into a pillow. It shouldn’t take one of Charlotte’s girls too long, and then it would be ready in time for Nick’s engagement announcement.”
Sarah felt her knees go weak. She sank back to her kneeling position on the floor
and held onto the corner of the trunk for support. “Mr. Beaumont is engaged?” She struggled to keep her voice from cracking.
Agatha shook her head, making her lace cap slip from side to side. “He’s decided to settle down and start a family, but I don’t think he’s made a final decision yet as to who the lucky girl will be. Personally, I wish he would hurry and make up his mind. I want to hold my grandson.”
“But he hasn’t decided who to marry, you say?” Sarah tried to still the frantic beating of her heart as breath again entered her lungs.
Agatha pleated the bed linen with her bent fingers. “I think he’ll make the most beautiful babies, don’t you?” From the corner of her eye she watched the color drain from Sarah’s face only to bounce back again, and her voice lowered to a secret whisper. “He might be my grandson, but let me tell you, Nicholas is one fine specimen of a man. With that thick black wavy hair and those dark sapphire eyes, and strong . . . Why, did you know that Nick can – “
“Would you like a fresh glass of lemonade, Mrs. Beaumont?” Sarah interrupted. “I thought I heard Luther say that Mrs. Killingham had made some special. Why don’t I just go down and fetch it for you.”
“Don’t bother.” Agatha struggled not to smile. “I’ll just ring for it. Have you ever noticed how well Nick fills out his jacket?”
Sarah snatched the golden bell out of reach and placed it on the dresser. “I’ll save Luther the trip,” she stammered. “You just rest a moment and I’ll be right back.”
Agatha watched in amusement as Sarah fled the room. This is going to be even easier than I thought, she giggled with satisfaction. And with her hands folded meekly on her lap and an angelic smile on her wrinkled face, Agatha patiently waited for Sarah to reappear.
* * *
Sarah stared down at the folded invitation in confusion. Her afternoon with Agatha was slowly turning into a nightmare. First, the woman had gone on for ages about Nick and his virtues until Sarah thought she might go crazy from the images that sprang to mind, and now there was an invitation from people she had never met. “But, Mrs. Beaumont, why should the Bellinghams want me to dine with them?”