She watched as people passed by and marveled at how richly they seemed to be dressed. Men wore topcoats with knee britches, crisp tri-corn hats and often their hair was pulled back in a single pigtail. The women too looked elegant in gowns rich in detail, and Darcy saw one woman with powdered hair piled high, riding in a sedan chair.
She marveled at the homes lining Benefit Street. They were all very straight, proper and neatly presented. Each two-story home had more windows than Darcy had ever seen, and even though the shuttered facades were flat, they were attractive. All the structures were constructed of wood, which Darcy could see was plentiful and painted in light cheerful colors. Providence was a very modern place indeed.
She hoped that her arrangement with Colonel Lawrence would go well. Darcy did not relish the thought of having to give herself to a man, but at least she found him appealing and wealthy. She opened a small oak writing desk and found several sheets of paper and a quill. The thought occurred to her that a home such as this must have many books. She heard the rich chimes of a clock downstairs and knew that it must be time to meet Colonel Lawrence.
"Do you have any clothing beyond what you are wearing now?" he asked, as she entered the drawing room.
"I have nothing more."
"We shall have you fitted for several gowns immediately, Miss McBride," and he rose from his desk, walked to a china cabinet and poured two glasses of claret. He handed her a glass and smiled. Colonel Lawrence was a man used to being in charge, and Darcy would be no exception. He showed her to a richly patterned wingback chair by the fire and stood by the mantle, sipping his claret, looking at her.
"Our arrangement will be as follows," he instructed. "You will have your complete freedom here. I do not have the time or the inclination to be your jailer. The penalty for jumping your servitude is severe, and believe me, you would be found. Your good looks work against you in that regard."
Darcy listened, but she was not intimidated; she had no intention of running away.
Colonel Lawrence continued. "I enjoy dining out, so there will be few nights when the cook is here. Keep the house clean, my uniform in order, and if all goes well, we will journey to the Upper Massachusetts Colony where your duties will be even fewer." He paused and said, "I will ask you to my room when the mood suits me. You will always be compliant and accommodating. Is that clear?"
Darcy raised an eyebrow and said, "I understand fully."
His look softened, and reaching down, he pulled her out of the chair putting his arms around her. "You are an incredibly inviting woman," he murmured.
Darcy could feel her body respond immediately to his embrace. He was not only handsome, but he had the appeal of a man who is sure of himself, and he moved down, kissing her neck. Suddenly, she felt him sweep her up and carry her into his room across the hall. Laying her on the featherbed, he said, "From now on you belong to me," and he reached up and unfastened each of the four brocade bed curtains, enveloping them for the rest of the night.
* * *
Nathan Lawrence was as good as his word. The following morning Darcy was fitted for several dresses, which were suitable for everyday wear, and he instructed the dressmaker to sew only one evening gown, no more. Lawrence knew Providence society would tolerate a mistress, but they could not abide an Irish mistress. He thought it was a shame to have to hide her beauty, so he decided to escort her to more casual functions.
The two sincerely enjoyed keeping company. Every evening about nine, they ventured out to dine and stroll through the streets of Providence. They would stop and listen to street musicians or watch jugglers, and it was here that Darcy enjoyed her first Punch-and-Judy show. The evenings were slow and leisurely, ending always the same way, on Nathan's feather bed.
Most days Lawrence conducted business away from the home, so after Darcy had completed her housekeeping, she was free to explore the library. Ironically, this was the most freedom she had ever possessed. In Ireland she had to answer to Liam and for a brief time Bran, but Colonel Lawrence demanded little of her.
Darcy found him to be an experienced and competent lover. She believed that his age enhanced his proficiency, and she marveled at the vigorous physique he possessed for a man of his years. He introduced her to new avenues of lovemaking and seemed to enjoy awakening new sensations in her.
Darcy was an eager and willing student, but, as she was gaining skills in passion, she was losing her innocence.
Slowly the role of being exploited as property took its toll on her. Her outlook began to change, and she walled off places where she might be weak and vulnerable, especially her heart. She became cynical about men and believed that they wanted two things out of women: sex and work. Sadly she came to scoff at those who sought true love.
"Men don't love women, Nathan. They need them," she said to him one night as they dined at Chilton's Tavern.
"You really believe that, Darcy?" he asked shaking his head. "Then you have met all the wrong men."
"I agree with you there," she said taking a bite of ham.
Nathan studied Darcy closely tonight over dinner. Not only was she lovely to look at, but her company was incredibly stimulating. She was intelligent and quick and always a surprise. He was pleased that his wife would not be joining him for months; he could explore every inch of his new paramour.
Days turned to weeks and they fell into a pleasant routine. They sat for hours, dining and laughing, discussing everything but their pasts. All Darcy knew of Nathan's life was that he was of a good Devonshire family and that he bought a commission in the military at a young age after marrying a woman by the name of Lydia Collins. Together they had produced three children, who were now fully grown. His wife would not be arriving for months, and they never discussed where Darcy would go when that time arrived.
Nathan asked no questions about Darcy's past, and even if he had, she would not share anything with him about Ireland. She felt it would be a violation of her privacy, and she was already giving enough of herself to him.
She seldom allowed herself thoughts of home. She fought the memories and ghosts by throwing herself headlong into her new life, refusing to look back. On one occasion, she ventured to the oceanfront for comfort and vowed never to return. This was not the same ocean. It couldn't be. There was no crashing surf to console her, no green hills to soothe her, only a noisy dirty harbor on the Narragansett Bay.
One afternoon Nathan arrived with news that he must ready himself for the journey to the northern regions of Massachusetts. He stood in the doorway of her room with a concerned look on his face and said, "Darcy, I must be honest with you about something."
She turned around in her desk chair and looked at him. He looked very handsome standing in his red officer's uniform, but his face was weary. For the first time since she met him, Darcy thought that he looked his age.
"The northern frontier is very dangerous, and as you know, we are at war. It is not uncommon for bands of Abenaki to swoop down over settlements killing everyone. There is little protection afforded to those who venture into hostile country. The French are also saturating the area, escalating everything. I cannot endanger your life. I have changed my mind, you cannot come with me. I must sell your indentured service. I'm very sorry."
Darcy was stunned. Life had recently taken a turn for the better, and she would not allow him to ruin their perfect arrangement with this sudden attack of conscience.
"I have no qualms about venturing up north, Nathan," she said without hesitation.
"You don't know enough to be afraid," he argued.
Darcy’s temper flared, and she said sarcastically, "I didn't realize that women weren't allowed on the frontier, or are they simply stronger than I am?"
"I will be busy supervising this new fort, and I will not have time to take care of you."
"When have I ever asked you to take care of me? In fact I find the idea of anyone fawning over me repulsive."
Nathan chuckled. It was his turn to be sarcastic. "I've alway
s loved your vulnerability, Darcy."
He was not willing to argue with her any longer. In fact, he was secretly pleased that she wanted to stay by his side. Nathan shook his head and sighed, "I hope the French are easier to conquer than you. Pack your things, Darcy McBride. We leave tomorrow at dawn."
* * *
Darcy and Nathan traveled by carriage to Boston, where they were joined by a company of the 50th Infantry. It was here where they made final preparations for their journey. Darcy and Colonel Lawrence would be the only ones riding, and he warned her that the days would be long and arduous.
The first day of their journey, when Nathan's back was turned, the men in ranks gave Darcy indecent looks. She hated their lewd whispers and obscene gestures. She avoided eye contact, remaining cool and aloof. Gradually they viewed her as arrogant and left her alone.
North of Boston they encountered tidy homes with farmers working in the fields, their entire families bending their backs assisting with the spring planting. Gradually the road became a path, and the tall conifers joined overhead forming a huge, dark umbrella. The further north they rode, the denser the vegetation became and Darcy marveled at the abundant wildlife. Ireland had been depleted of its game long ago, and she was in awe at the number of deer, beaver and rabbit she had seen on the first day.
Nathan consulted regularly with a gnarly-looking old man who was their guide. To Darcy he was the epitome of the backwoodsman. He was a little man, thin and dirty and wore a loose, buckskin hunting shirt and britches. A tomahawk dangled from his belt, with a sheath for his hunting knife, and across his chest was a strap holding a powder horn and shot pouch.
She was fascinated by his tall moccasins, which traveled all the way up to his knees, where they were secured by rawhide thongs. He wore no hat, and his thin grey hair lay in tangles all over his head. The feature which attracted the most attention was his completely white left eye, but it did not seem to deter his capabilities as a scout. Nathan appeared to have every confidence in this man. He fascinated Darcy, and she was determined to become acquainted with him before the journey was over.
As sunset approached, they found a clearing, and the regulars broke camp. A good-sized tent was pitched for Colonel Lawrence and Darcy while the men slept in smaller two-man shelters. Cots for Nathan and Darcy were included on the pack horses, so the two of them were able to sleep comfortably off the ground.
Darcy could smell dinner being prepared over the open fire, as she stood stretched inside the tent. She was not used to riding, and she would have to hide her stiff back and legs from Nathan. Darcy was determined not to show him any weakness on the journey.
After the evening meal of salt pork and hard tack, everyone prepared for bed knowing that tomorrow's journey would be taxing. After posting several guards, Nathan joined her in the tent. He sat down by her on the cot and said, "Now listen carefully to me. If there is a raid tonight or at anytime stay close to the guide. His name is Moses Tinker. He will take good care of you. I will be too busy with my command."
"I thought we were in the land of the Iroquois, our allies."
"True, but we must always be on our guard. Farther north, above Fort Pepperell and the Piscataqua River, we may run into the Abenaki. They have been conducting raids on the settlers there for years. We have plantations there now, but the Abenaki are undeterred."
The word plantation gave Darcy an unsettled feeling. She had heard this word used in Ireland in reference to the British and Scot settlements on Irish land particularly in Ulster. She could understand the Abenaki being outraged. Her home, too, had been raped and confiscated by the British.
"Is there a settlement where we are going?"
"Only a few cabins, we have erected Fort Lawrence mainly as a deterrent to the French. Quebec is not far off, and they could easily come down to New England through the back door. Already we have news of French settlers just to the north, and the area is simply crawling with those damn Jesuits."
Darcy's eyes sparked. "I'll have you know, Nathan, that a damned Jesuit was the best friend I ever had. I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself about Catholics."
A look of shock turned to anger on Nathan Lawrence's face, and he said firmly, "Might I remind you that you are my indentured servant and that I am the commanding officer here? You will always show me respect. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir!" snapped Darcy.
Nathan's temper cooled, and he laughed putting his arms around Darcy. "Come now, my little colleen. Let's not quarrel. I'm as weary tonight as you are. Let us end the day giving each other sweet pleasure," He brushed the hair away from her face and said, "I see the envious looks on the faces of the men, and I know that I am very lucky to be holding such a desirable woman."
Darcy softened and looked into his eyes. He pulled her down onto a sheepskin rug on the floor of the tent and removed the shoulder of her shift, running his lips over her skin. Darcy could not remain angry with Nathan for long, and she returned his caresses affectionately.
As she fell asleep that night, she listened to the crickets and the wind moving through the trees. It became apparent to her why Father Etienne so loved this vast and wonderful place. She too felt honored to be a part of it.
Chapter 18
The journey into the frontier continued for days. The pace was grueling, and the anxiety of the party heightened as they ventured farther north. Darcy had to keep herself from thinking about the ocean of trees surrounding her. Father Etienne had told her that no white man had ever found his way across the vast terrain to the Pacific coast beyond, and that many settlers had lost their way in that confusing maze of trees, never returning home again. For this reason, Darcy stayed close to the group; she did not want to join the ranks of those unfortunate wandering souls.
In spite of all the peril and uncertainty, Darcy had never felt so alive. The thrill of adventure burned within her, and the possibility of danger ignited every fiber of her being. Gone was the dull apathy born of long suffering and disappointment; she was alive again.
As sunset approached each evening, Moses Tinker would go ahead of the party to find a suitable spot to break camp and look for signs of Indian parties in the area. They had seen no evidence thus far, but Nathan was not about to grow complaisant, and he drove the group on at a feverish pace. The thrill of adventure quickly turned to fatigue.
Darcy assumed that they would stop and rest at Fort Pepperell, but when they crossed the Piscataqua River, she rode up along side Nathan and asked, "I thought Fort Pepperell was on this river?"
"It is, but farther to the southeast."
"I thought we were going to rest there."
"No, we must keep on. Are you tired?"
"No, I'm just curious. That's all," she lied.
Darcy was indeed tired and anxious to rest. She was exhausted and sick of being surrounded by men, longing to be away from their prying eyes. She missed the company of a woman, and she reminisced about her conversations with Dominique, wishing for her friend.
She could see the journey wearing on Nathan as well. Conversation did not come easily with him, and his brow was furrowed. They had traveled in a steady rain since sunrise, and it showed no signs of stopping. Darcy's clothing clung to her body, and her hair was plastered to her skin. The trail was becoming soupy, and the horses kicked mud onto the soldiers behind her. When she dropped to the rear of the line to be courteous, Nathan signaled her back--the position was far too dangerous.
The rain ended by evening, and everyone was busy drying out bedding and supplies at the campsite when Darcy spotted Moses Tinker mending his moccasins by the fire. She sat down next to him, and he looked up at her in surprise. He looked around for signs of Colonel Lawrence. To put him at his ease, she said, "You don't have to be concerned Mr. Tinker. I may talk to whomever I choose."
He continued to work on his moccasins, keeping his eyes down.
"Were you born in these parts?" she asked.
"Not born, but raised."
"Where?"
"I was raised up by Windsor River, ma'am."
Darcy noticed the funny way his grey beard jumped up and down as he spoke, and she watched his hands move the needle deftly through the leather as he repaired his moccasin.
She suspected that beneath that dirty and disheveled exterior, Moses Tinker had a keen mind.
"Windsor River, that's where Fort Lawrence is built," she said, "You must be going home."
Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry Page 15
