P N Elrod - Barrett 2 - Death and the Maiden

by Death

  Ah, now there was a bit of strain to him, after all. Very cheering, to be sure.

  Elizabeth, when I found her, was in the center of a virtual garden of gowns. So thickly were her friends gathered 'round her that their wide-reaching dresses scarcely left any space in the room. I was bumped and crowded and made over and teased as I made my way to her, being very careful where I put ray feet, especially around the seated ladies, who had spread their skirts out to show them off. None, I thought, were more beautiful than Elizabeth's, and certainly none of the women wearing them were as beautiful, either.

  I bowed deeply and kissed her hand and wished her the best of all possible days. My throat was clogging and my eyes stung a bit.

  "Thank you, little brother." She smiled back at me, looking utterly radiant, and I was ready to burst with pride in her. "It's been a truly marvelous day, but now..."

  "Night is here with my arrival, or is it the other way around?"

  "You ass!" But she softened her humor. "You wonderful ass."

  "Coming soon, is it?"

  She gulped. "Yes, very soon."

  "I'm glad you arranged things so I could be here to see."

  "That's all Father's doing."

  "How is he?"

  "Being fatherly. When I came downstairs he had to use his handkerchief a lot. Tried to pretend he had dust in his eyes, but I knew better."

  "I know how he feels. All I can say is be happy, Elizabeth."

  "I will. I know I will."

  And within the hour she married Lord James Norwood amid tears and laughter and glorious celebration. Thus did we observe and acknowledge the change that came to all our lives.

  June 1777

  Though larger campaigns of destruction were being undertaken by the armies in the greater world outside, we were naturally most concerned for our own area, having endured a number of raids, both bold and vicious. Some of the thieves were caught, and those without commission papers were hanged. Hardworking farmers made desperate by the loss of their produce to the British and the rebels turned to thieving themselves as a means of survival and revenge. Some of them joined with the local militia, others preferred to work on their own. One such group included Mr. Curtis, Mr. Davis, and even Noddy Milverton on occasion. Whenever they were absent from The Oak, it was generally accepted they'd "gone fishing" along the Connecticut coast. No one objected to it, least of all Lieutenant Nash.

  Some of the Hessian troops had been transferred out, both to the relief and annoyance of the locals. Our barn was empty once more, as was Mrs. Montagu's. They were hated company, but their presence had been a curtailment to the raids. Father worried for her and visited as often as he could. He'd gifted her with several pistols and a good hunting rifle and had gone to no little trouble to teach her and her servants how to shoot well. The lady had also taken to increasing the numbers of geese around her home, being of the same opinion as the old Romans that they were better than dogs for giving the alarm.

  But though the times were hard, we knew they were much worse elsewhere, so we thanked God for our lot and prayed for a swift victory over our enemies and the restoration of peace.

  The sun rose later each night and arrived sooner each day, but I'd gotten over the feeling of being deprived of my waking hours. When I lay my head down, the dawn brought such complete oblivion that I had no knowledge of the day's passage, hence the continuation of my illusion of living one endless night. I seemed to find plenty of time to do all that I wanted; I had no more complaints.

  I did become a frequent visitor to Elizabeth's new house. She'd made it into a very pretty place despite Norwood's objections to the expense.

  "I think it's because of his plans to go back to England," she confided to me. "He thinks it's a waste of money to put it into a house we won't be staying in for very long."

  "What's he mean by that? Are you to leave so soon?" The idea had been there for some time, but only in the abstract. Now Elizabeth was speaking as though they were already starting to pack for the journey.

  "Oh, not for a while, perhaps. Maybe a year or so."

  "That's something, then," I said grudgingly. Though my perception of time had been skewed by my change, a year still seemed a very great interval. "I mean, if you really want to leave..."

  "Actually, I don't, but I should go and meet his family. I'm rather curious about how a duke lives."

  "Doesn't he tell you?"

  "Not always. I hear more about his dead ancestors than the living relatives. Do you know his people were at Agincourt? It seems that I've married into a very famous family."

  I looked on as she sewed away on some humble task, her head bowed over her work. She'd changed, a bit, and would change more as most of her interests came to center upon her new life. "Are you happy about it?"

  "It's not very real to me yet. All I know is James. He's what's real."

  "Are you happy with him?"

  "Yes, certainly I'm happy. How can you ask such a thing?"

  "Just playing the protective brother, is all."

  "That can't be all. Don't you like him?"

  "Well, yes, but you can't expect me to be in favor of his taking you away to England someday. Father and I would miss you terribly."

  "And I would miss you both terribly, but I have to go with my husband. That's the way things are."

  "Then it's not right. You should have a say in where you want to live."

  "I know, but I'm sure things will work out for the best no matter where we are."

  She was in love and would follow her husband. I was only her brother and it wasn't my place to object.

  Lady Caroline had come over earlier that day for a visit and had stayed longer than expected. My arrival soon after dusk was greeted with surprise. She had been going to spend the night rather than risk traveling after dark, but at the conclusion of my visit she asked me to escort her home.

  "But the roads might be dangerous," said Norwood.

  "It will be perfectly safe," I replied. I had confidence in my ability to see and hear a potential hazard long before it saw me. "I'll be going by way of Glenbriar to check the post."

  "For that letter from England? I hope it comes soon, or you shall wear out your welcome at the inn."

  "I shouldn't want to be any trouble," said Lady Caroline.

  "No trouble," I told her. "Besides, Anne will miss your company. She had her heart set on reading that scene with you of Portia and Nerissa discussing the suitors in The Merchant of Venice."

  "So she did. I recall she wanted you to play the Prince of Morocco."

  "And the Prince of Arragon-and Bassanio, too, if there's time."

  "She's turned into quite the scholar."

  "Actress, more like. If she continues like this, Mr. Garrick will have to come out of retirement."

  "Who?"

  "David Garrick, the actor."

  "Oh, goodness, of course. For some reason I thought you meant one of the farmers hereabouts."

  "You'll not catch many of them with time for reading Shakespeare."

  "Or aught else, I'm sure."

  "I'll go see to the horses, then." I went off toward the miserable-looking structure that served as a stable. Elizabeth had once mentioned her desire to repair and improve it before the winter, lightly complaining when Norwood asked to put it off a while longer. I wondered if his tight-fisted nature would soon be a source of discontent for her.

  They had no stablemen, not even a lad to see to their own beasts. Norwood claimed that he enjoyed looking after them himself, which was understandable to me, but I thought it odd for a man in his position not to have at least one servant for the task. There wasn't that much work to do, though, with but two horses. He had a hunter and Elizabeth had brought along her favorite from home, Beauty. So far they had not yet acquired a carriage, not that there were many to be had these days. When Sunday came along, Father would send a man along in ours to pick them up for church.

  I'd taken up riding again to give Roily some much needed
exercise and make a change for me. This included my wish to avoid being seen floating about. I'd been spotted twice, but fortunately both times the men had been rather drunk and no one believed their story about a "flying ghost." After that I became more careful.

  Taking Roily's reins and those of Lady Caroline's horse, I walked back to the house in no particular hurry, but unwilling to waste time. Elizabeth had already said good night and gone upstairs, leaving Norwood and his sister in the front entry. They were speaking in low tones and looked to be having some kind of a disagreement. Before I'd quite gotten close enough to hear anything above the noise of the horses, they broke off and acted as though nothing were amiss. Well, if they wished it to be so, then I would act in kind. I helped Lady Caroline up to her sidesaddle, swung onto Roily, and bade farewell to Norwood. He stood in the doorway and watched us until we were out of sight down the lane.

  "Was there anything wrong between you two?" I asked.

  "Not really. He's just worried about my being out, but I told him that we'd be fine."

  It had looked more interesting than simple concern, but if so, then she was determined to keep it to herself.

  "You are armed, I hope?" she asked.

  "I'd feel undressed without these." I touched the specially made case hanging from my saddle that held a set of duelers

  I'd bought on a whim in London. Since my abduction, I took them everywhere, loaded, and ready at hand. "And you?"

  Instead of the "muff gun" favored by some ladies, she pulled out a formidable brass-barreled specimen made by Powell of Dublin that was capable of firing six shots, one after another. It was an amazing piece of work, and I had hopes of someday acquiring one myself. Its appeal lay in the fact that after an initial priming, all one had to do was to pull back the trigger guard after each shot, turn the cylinder, and push the guard forward to lock it, then fire again. Six in a row without reloading. An absolutely marvelous invention.

  Our safety assured by our arms collection, we kicked the horses up with confidence and cantered toward Glenbriar. It wasn't far, and I found the ride shortened by her pleasing company. Almost before I knew it, we were reining up before The Oak. As this night I was only interested in the post and not buying a round of drinks and time with Molly Audy, I would only be a moment. There was a room on the side reserved for the ladies if Lady Caroline desired to come in, and I asked her as much, but she professed that she was content to wait without.

  I was hailed by a somewhat thinner crowd than usual. It being a calm night, it was easy to conclude that Nassau County's own irregulars were out prowling the Sound for booty. I didn't approve or disapprove of their work, but did hope that they harmed no one and could avoid capture if at all possible. Their treatment as prisoners would doubtless be short and brutal, for the hangings had made many of the Connecticut "militia" very bitter.

  "Anything at all, Mr. Farr?" I asked after giving him greeting.

  With a flourish as though he'd brought it across the Atlantic himself, he placed a battered packet before me, smiling broadly. I let out a crow and fell upon it like a starving man to a loaf of bread. This gave much amusement to the other patrons, so I made something of an ass of myself, but I didn't care. I cut the thing open then and there with my penknife and unfolded the sheets within.

  The date, as nearly as I could make out from Oliver's atrocious handwriting, was late in February, indicating that he'd replied immediately after the arrival of my last missive to him. So it had taken a solid four months to get to me. Old news by now, but much better than nothing. My eyes flew over the crabbed words, searching for Nora's name.

  And when I found it... well, I'd hoped for more... expected more.

  He told me that he'd forwarded my letter to Nora to the Warburtons as per my request and hoped that I should get a speedy reply. He'd had no word from them other than a note from Mrs. Warburton saying that her son, Tony, had improved a little in the temperate Italian climate, though he was still far from recovered.

  Damned murdering bastard, I thought, my mood turned foul from this lack of news. I didn't care about him, I wanted news of Nora.

  "Not bad tidings, I hope?" said Mr. Farr.

  "More like no tidings at all," I grumbled.

  The rest of the letter reflected the one I'd sent him, chatty and full of comments about things long past and near forgotten. I was to the point of folding it to read later when I caught the name "Norbury," and went a bit farther. I'd asked him for an opinion of the family and he had provided one.

  I was reading it for the fourth time when Lady Caroline, apparently impatient with waiting, came in. Mr. Farr went to her and asked permission to show her to the ladies' portion of his house, but she put him off and came smiling over to me.

  "Mr. Barrett? I've no wish to rush you, but I thought you might have forgotten that your cousin is waiting for us."

  Couldn't speak. Could barely hear her. Could only stare at her face, familiar for so many months, pretty, friendly, intelligent, charming, an entirely lovely woman. I stared and felt a terrible illness creeping up from my belly.

  Farr noticed something was wrong. "Mr. Barrett? What is it? Mr. Barrett?"

  My eyes jerked from her face to his and I struggled to form an answer. Impossible. The whole world was impossible.

  She said my name again. Questioning.

  Still couldn't answer. Shock, I suppose. Made it hard to think.

  "... some brandy, sir?" Farr was saying.

  I shook my head. Put a hand to my eyes, rubbed them. When I blinked them clear, the horror was still before me. Undeniable. It would not go away on its own. It would have to be dealt with, and the damnable job had fallen to me.

  Once I understood that, a kind of acceptance and resolve took hold. Without another word, I seized her by the arm and guided her toward one of the more private receiving rooms. I grabbed up a candle from one of the tables in passing, much to the startlement of the men there. Ignoring their comments, I pushed her ahead of me into the room and shut the door.

  "What is the matter, Mr. Barrett?" she demanded, nonplussed if not angered by my abrupt behavior.

  "That is something for you to explain, madam." I put the candle on a heavy oak table and placed Oliver's letter next to it. "Read," I ordered, pointing.

  "This is ridiculous," she protested. "What on earth-?"

  "Read, damn you!"

  She went pale with true anger, but there was a sudden wavering in her eyes.

  Doubt, I thought. Most definitely doubt.

  She kept anger to the front, though, and showing it in her every move and gesture, sat in one of the chairs and plucked up the pages. It was slow going, she was not used to the handwriting, but I knew how things stood as I watched her grow paler and paler until she was deathly white. Then there was a strange reversal and her color returned until she was flushed and hot, with two crimson spots high on her cheeks.

  Oliver had been fairly succinct on the subject:

  "I'd not heard of any Duke of Norbury, but thought if Cousin Elizabeth were considering on adding a peer to the family it wouldn't hurt to improve my knowledge, so I started asking around. The news isn't good, I fear, as it turns out there is no such duke and never has been. The only Norbury I can turn up is some nothing of a little hamlet south of London that doesn't even have a church, much less a duke. There is a village called Norwood and I understand it has a rather fine inn, but again, no duke lurking about the place. I'd question this fellow and his sister very closely as they're bound to be bounders, don't you know."

  She shook her head, putting on a wonderful puzzlement. "Really, Mr. Barrett, there has been a awful mistake, that, or your cousin is playing a miserable joke upon us all. My family is an old and noble line, why, we even had ancestors with Henry at Agincourt."

  "I don't give a damn if they were with Richard at Bosworth Field, you will explain yourself."

  "But I tell you there's nothing to be explained, 'tis your cousin who needs to..." She saw my look and tried anot
her tack. "This is ridiculous. We've lived with your family for months. You know us well. How can we be anything except what we are?"

  And for a moment I did experience a twinge of doubt. Oliver was often a rather silly fellow, after all. He might have gotten things muddled...

  "This is a mistake," she said firmly. "You must realize that."

  No. He could be an ass at times, but he was no fool.

  Unlike me. Unlike all of us.

  I fixed my eyes hard upon her. "You will listen to me..."

  She hissed as though burned and flinched. After that initial reaction she was as still as stone, expression wide open and blank. Soulless.