“Am I that intolerable?”
“Well, becoming a husband and father makes you a bit less tiresome. But I will be pleased to hear your confession at long last.”
“What confession?”
Caleb rolled his eyes, “You know very well what confession. Why is it Mary hated you one day and married you the next?”
“Oh, that confession. Some of us are not inclined to wait as long as you to take a wife. Did you not fancy Elizabeth from the beginning?”
Caleb raised an eyebrow, “Brother, I am not fooled by your attempt to answer my question with one of your own.” He picked up a pebble, skipped it across the water, and watched the rings disappear. “Did you not just say it was time to speak the truth?”
“Aye, but not that particular truth.”
Caleb tossed two more rocks in the pool before he noticed Uriah's expression had grown deeply serious. “What truth then?”
“First, I must ask for another vow.”
“I see. The vows are not so easily kept, you are aware. I've a devil of a time keeping the nature of your business in London from our wives. Their questions are endless.”
“I know, but this vow will be more to your liking. Brother, you are to tell no one...particularly our wives.”
Caleb crossed his arms, “Splendid.”
“The Earl has advised me to resign my position in London. We are to leave England.”
“Leave England? But why?”
“I have not found favor in the eyes of King George III.”
Caleb was shocked, “But you played with him as a boy. You are his friend.”
“I was his friend, but now he is King, and I...”
“You are a commoner.”
Uriah started to protest, and then he thought better of it. “Aye.”
“Where will we go, what will we do?”
“We will do quite nicely wherever we go. After all, we are quite wealthy.”
Caleb turned away, grabbed a hand full of rocks and hurled them into the water. “Now you've done it, you've lost your wits.”
Uriah reached over, playfully tousled Caleb's hair and grinned. “I have not lost my wits. I've much to tell and little time for the telling. Will you hear it?”
“Go on then, I am listening.”
Thoughtfully, Uriah gazed across the water, “You are aware of the battle between King George II and Bonnie Prince Charlie. Many prayed the Jacobites would win and they sent support by way of jewels intended to buy muskets and ammunition. But Caleb, the jewels did not arrive.”
“Is that why they lost the battle?”
“Partly. Someone betrayed the Prince and when the men attempted to deliver the jewels, they were beset by Redcoats. They fled, pausing just long enough to leave the jewels...”
“Leave them where?”
Slowly, Uriah lifted his eyes to a gap between the trees. “There.” On the side of a hill less than a mile away, stood a huge, three story house made of stone. The setting sun made the stones glow in shades of yellow and gold. Uriah looked at his brother's face for a glimmer of recognition, but there was none. “The jewels are hidden beneath the cobblestones in the carriage house.”
“How do you know this?”
“I was there.”
“I see. Then our parents held positions in that house. But why leave the jewels with us?”
Uriah did not quickly answer, soaking in instead his brother's false assumption. “Our mother was the daughter of a Jacobite.”
“We are Jacobites? How extraordinary!”
“We are half, our father was English. But brother, our parents were...” Uriah stopped short.
Just as he always did, Caleb stiffened his muscles and turned away. A full minute passed before he finally spoke, “Why have you never recovered the jewels?”
“I waited until you were old enough.”
“I have been old enough for quite some time.”
“That you have, but you have such a generous nature you'd have given them away. Now that you are married...”
“I've a wife to think of. Perhaps you were right to keep the secret,” admitted Caleb. “I say we go get them.”
“Aye, but we must be careful. I think I am being followed.”
“By whom?”
“I suspect the men who left the jewels with Father are hoping to discover where they are hidden.”
“I see.” He thought about it for a time. “So we have been men of wealth for quite some years, yet we live a meager existence and our wives are servants? How could you allow this?”
“I had no choice. You cannot know how desperately I have longed to relieve our wives of their burdens, or how angry I've been, knowing it was within my grasp. But I could not simply resign without arousing great suspicion. And consider this: how could we have explained sudden wealth?”
“You are resigning now.”
“Yes, but at the Earl's insistence. Sending me away is quite a different matter. After we leave England, no one will question our wealth.”
Caleb pursed his lips and tossed another pebble into the pond. “England is the only home we have ever known, and I like it in the North.”
“So do I, but we cannot stay, not if we recover the jewels.”
“I suppose not. But why not tell our wives?”
“I suspect the newest member of Lady Philips' society is the one following me.”
“And who better to know our business than Lady Phillips.”
“Precisely.”
The sun had slipped behind the treetops by the time Caleb finally got to his feet, reached out, gave his brother a hand up, and brushed off the back of his long pants. “We could go to France and deliver the jewels to the Prince.”
“Aye, we could.”
“They are not truly ours to keep, you know.”
“Not truly, I suppose.”
Caleb rubbed the back of his neck and turned to look once more at the mansion on the hill. “On the other hand, the Prince has already been put down, we can hardly return them to the ones who donated them, and I do not suppose anyone would be the wiser if we kept them.”
“Not if we are clever.”
“Then it is settled. We will recover the jewels and leave England. We have but one problem remaining.”
“Which is?”
“How do we convince our wives to leave England?”
IT WAS PITCH BLACK when Uriah and Caleb slipped through the gate. The yard was unkempt and the house looked completely deserted except for a faint light in the foyer. Quietly, they went around the mansion to the carriage house in the back. Broken wheels were scattered about haphazardly, the doors were wide open and a tattered and dirty carriage was parked half in and half out.
Uriah looked up at the window of a third-story bedchamber in the mansion. He saw no light and noticed all the other windows were dark as well, so he turned his attention back to the task at hand. He stepped inside, handed the bag of dirt he’d brought to Caleb, and lit a candle.
Cautiously, he stepped around a variety of uncared for equipment until he found the pile of bridles and saddles. Everything was exactly as his father had left it. He handed the candle to Caleb, lifted everything out of his way and knelt down. Uriah removed several cobblestones, brushed a thin layer of dirt away, and grinned. With a tug, the satchel came free.
He set the satchel aside, took the bag of dirt from his brother and filled the hole. Then he replaced the cobblestones and put everything back the way it was. He grabbed the satchel and followed his brother back the way they had come. When they reached the doorway, he watched Caleb blow out the candle. “You used to play in this carriage house.”
Caleb never said a word.
THE COTTAGE HAD CHANGED now that the brothers had wives and the four of them lived together. Once filled with clutter, it became a well kept home, clean and safe for a toddler. Normally, Caleb took the boy with him, the wives tended Lady Phillips and Uriah was off to London. But when Uriah and Caleb returned from recovering the
jewels, Elizabeth was home with little John, and Uriah was forced to spend what was left of the night hidden in his bedchamber.
As nonchalantly as he could the next morning, Caleb kissed Elizabeth on the cheek and closed the front door behind her. Then he rushed to the window, pulled the curtain back and watched until his wife walked out of sight. Relieved, he opened Uriah's door.
“I should not have come,” Uriah muttered, swooping down to pick up his son. He raised the giggling boy high into the air, and then slowly lowered him until he could kiss John’s cheek. “I find my bed intolerable without Mary.”
“But the hour was late, where else could you have gone?”
“Anywhere but here. Elizabeth nearly discovered me and we have no time to waste, I feared having to explain why I am home, and then why I must leave without seeing my wife.”
“Fortunately, I distracted her.” Caleb disappeared into the kitchen.
“Distracted her, do you call it? It is not wise to oppose a woman of Elizabeth's temperament. Can you not just agree with her until she becomes a little more placid?”
When he returned from the kitchen, Caleb set a hot cup of tea and a bowl of fresh bread on the table. “Is that why you never have cross words with Mary? You agree with her until she becomes placid?”
“Mary has yet to oppose me.” Uriah took a chair at the table and sat John in his lap. “If only she would. Instead, she shows no emotion...not hate, not defiance and particularly not love.”
“She's plenty to say when you are away.”
“Does she? Like what?”
“Well,” Caleb began, pulling a chair up to the other side of the table and sitting down. “She does not enjoy your absence.”
“She told you that?”
“Well no, not precisely. But brother, I am convinced you are wrong. Mary does love you.”
“Not likely. When I am home, she is distant. She is friendly, yes, but she exhibits no affection. It is as though we are best friends rather than husband and wife.”
“Why not just ask her?”
Uriah broke off a crust of bread and handed it to his son, “I could not bear the pain if she rejected me.”
Caleb smiled, “Perhaps her heart will soften in America.”
“America? You have decided then? What are we to do in America?”
“What are we to do anywhere? We dare not go to Spain, for they hate the British, and the French love our society even less. Germany is the House of Hanover, Ireland is too near, and India is too hot. Where else but America? Besides, with people regularly sailing to the Colonies, we would hardly be noticed.”
“Yes, but many have died on the voyages. It is nearly three thousand miles and we've a child to consider.”
“Where then?”
Uriah brought a hand up and thoughtfully rubbed his brow. “You are right, naturally. We've no other choice. Still, I had hoped we might decide on a place void of Redcoats.”
“I hardly think that is possible. Brother, please say yes, I've my heart set on the Colonies.”
“Once you’ve your heart set, have I ever denied you?”
“Not that I recall.”
“America it is then.”
Caleb grinned, and then his grin quickly disappeared. He got up and began to pace between the hearth and the window, worry lines deep in his brow. “Our wives are well aware we are without the necessary funds for a voyage to America. We must tell them about the jewels. We can simply admonish them not to speak of it.”
“Yes, and they will ask why. What then? Do we tell them I am being followed and that we put them and the boy in danger?”
“No, they must never know that, they would have our heads. We must find another way.”
“That, little brother, I leave to you. My lot is to hide the bulk of the jewels, keep back enough to settle us comfortably in America, and sell some to pay for our voyage without raising suspicion.” Suddenly, a look of repugnance crossed Uriah's face. He lifted the child off his lap and looked at the wet spot on his long pants. Holding the boy at arms length, he carried him to the bedchamber. “Son, I wish to have a word with you.”
LAUNDRY WAS ALWAYS looked upon by the sisters as drudgery at Lady Phillip’s Manor
“Yes, but Mary, I've detected a difference in Caleb these last two days. Even his walk has changed since his return from Manchester.” Elizabeth ignored the excess laundry water that splashed over the side of the washtub. “There is more boldness in his countenance, somehow.”
Mary twisted rinse water out of a frock and threw it in a nearby basket. “I see.” She dried her hands on her apron, opened the kitchen door to let in the breeze, and then returned to her work.
“And sister, he seems more guarded, more protective. I fear he becomes his brother.”
“He is not like Uriah at all. Caleb openly exhibits happiness while Uriah keeps his well-guarded...except where it concerns his son.” She hesitated, “Elizabeth, does Caleb speak of love?”
“Only once. It was when...oh, never mind when. Why do you ask? Does Uriah never say it?”
“No, he's not said it even once.”
“How dreadful. But surely he does love you; he would not have married you otherwise.”
“Why not say it then?”
Elizabeth finished washing a frock, wrung it out, slipped it in the rinse tub, and reached for another. “Perhaps you should ask him.”
“And if he says he does not love me?”
“Well then, we will have to do him in. I read in a book once...”
Mary threw her head back and roared with laugher. “Be serious. We've not the heart to do anyone in, even Lady Phillips.”
“Pity,” Elizabeth giggled. They washed and rinsed two more items of clothing, and then Elizabeth grew more somber. “Perhaps Caleb intends a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.”
“Yes, but why?”
“I...I just do, particularly on my birthday.”
Elizabeth glanced at her sister's far away look, and then shrugged. It would pass, it always did. Finally she saw Mary begin to smile, “And why do you grin, Mrs. Carson?”
“Do you hear it?”
“Oh that. The older the Lady gets, the louder she snores.”
“How much I would like to dangle a chicken feather and tickle her nose.”
“Oh, Mary.”
“She deserves a joke, sister. She insists one of us stay the night, knowing full well we have taken husbands. And never have I known her to rise from her sleep, even when she is unwell.”
“Rise? And miss her highly regarded ghosts?”
“Never!” both women said at the same time.
Elizabeth rubbed the cloth against the washboard, held it up to look for stains and dipped it back in the water. “Mary, how will I ever thank you for staying the night in my place.”
“You are newly married and I would have it no other way. Simply promise me this – when John learns to speak, see he knows which of us is his mother.”
“Done.” Then, with a wet gown in each hand, Elizabeth threw her arms open wide and leaned forward to hug her sister. As soon as Mary obliged, she slapped the gowns together and let the water splash all over the back of Mary's frock.
IT WAS IN THE EVENING of the third day, just as Caleb seated himself near the fire in the small cottage, that he heard the sound of an approaching rider. He folded his newspaper, got up and went to the back door. “You have come much sooner than I had anticipated,” he said, surprised to see his brother.
Uriah hurried in and dropped his bag of clothing on a kitchen chair. “Is my wife about?”
“She is not.”
“But the hour is late and she should have come home by now?”
“Brother, we did not expect you. When you are away, she relieves Elizabeth of her duties. Besides, this night Lady Phillips invites her society.”
Uriah was clearly disappointed, “I see.”
“Had I known of your return, I would...”
“N
o, no, it is quite all right. In fact, it might be beneficial.”
Caleb followed him into the sitting room, watched as Uriah laid a loving hand on his sleeping son's back and then sat down at the small table. “Beneficial in what way?”
“I have secured our passage to America.”
“So soon?”
“We leave in four days?”
Caleb was shocked. Slowly, he sank into a chair. “You sold the jewels?”
“A few. I took a turn about the docks of Bristol. There are hundreds of people selling all they own and peddlers willing to buy without question. They took no notice of me at all and paid for the jewels quite happily.”
“You purchased our passage? But it takes months to secure passage to the Colonies.”
“Normally, yes, but an unexpected ship had just landed, so I quickly laid down the price.”
“I see, were you followed?”
Uriah took off his jacket and loosened his ruffled scarf. “I saw no one suspicious.”
“How are we to make preparations in only four days?”
“We have far less time than that; it is two days ride by coach to Bristol. We must take our leave in the morning, and Caleb, we must say we go on holiday so none will suspect we intend to leave the country. We can take nothing with us.”
Caleb lowered his eyes, “Well...we truly have nothing of value, save the horses, I suppose.”
“I have considered that. We will send a bill of sale to Mister Findley from Bristol. Now, have you thought of a way to explain the price of the voyage to our wives?”
Caleb got up, crossed to the mantle, poured two glasses of rum and walked back to the table. He handed one to his brother, took a long sip and sat back down. “We have an Aunt Charlotte.”
“We have?”
“Yes, we have a most excellent Aunt Charlotte. She is sister to our mother, has only just discovered our whereabouts and wishes us to join her in America. She sends our passage, you see?”
“In her letter?”
“Precisely.”
“And if our wives ask to see the letter?”
“You will have to write one.”
“Me? Why me?”
Caleb set his glass down and crossed his arms. “I cannot write it, Elizabeth will recognize my hand.”
The Promise Page 5
