Surrender the Wind

by RITA GERLACH

  Jane shook her head. “It's his name, part of it.”

  “When asked why this name he tells people, ‘I am Henry and I chase my hounds over hill and dale. They’re wild as the foxes that roam my land and rarely are they caught. But they’re great fun.’”

  Jane laughed, kissed Juleah's cheek, and left the room with a skip.

  The light fled. Juleah's reflection appeared in the window glass. Unlike a mirror, it was a translucent image, her eyes and face pale, her hair ghostly soft about her face. She saw one person, one woman, instead of a couple. How incomplete she seemed without Seth beside her. Her eyes filled and blurred the reflection before her. The horse chestnut trees her father had planted on the hilltop beyond the garden came into view. Lances of sunlight poured between them, made the grass luminescent, and matched the color of the lichen in the pond.

  “I wish I could paint that scene, God,” she whispered, and leaned her head across her arm. “But I shall never excel at watercolors.”

  Juleah had fallen asleep with Seth's letter on her lap and woke when she heard people speaking in the hallway downstairs. One she knew. Her father's voice boomed deep as a well, mellow as aged wine. The quick replies to Sir Henry's questions arrested her. She knew his voice.

  Her heart trembled, and when she rose, the letter fell from her hand onto the floor. She hurried to pick it up and went to the head of the staircase to listen. She paused and, hearing nothing more, went on down into the foyer to the sitting room. It was empty and she wondered if she had dreamt the whole thing.

  The door swung wide and she turned. Sir Henry strode inside with his unruly mob of dogs. They sniffed everything and knocked the furniture with their tails. It was musical.

  “There you are, Juleah. By thunder, if it's not raining like mad outside.” Mud was upon Sir Henry's boots, yet his huntsman's coat showed not a dapple of rain. Boot prints etched the carpet, and brown paw marks littered the hardwood floor.

  Juleah smiled mildly and went to kiss his cheek. “Thankfully it was a light rain and passed quickly.” She helped him pull off his coat. Today, as yesterday, he wore his old brown waistcoat, breeches, and gray worsted stockings.

  “The sun doth shine now, my girl?”

  “Brightly, Papa.”

  Sir Henry bent toward her ear. “Our new neighbor stands by the door.”

  Juleah followed the direction of her father's eyes and met the gaze of the man who stood in the gloom of the doorway. His black riding coat and white linen shirt contrasted his dark hair. In his hand, he held a tricorn hat made of black felt decorated with a black rosette cockade and pewter button on the left side. He had taken a step up, and she liked it.

  Quick to realize she was staring, Juleah looked away. She felt heat rise in her face. Never had she seen such eyes in her life, dark as earth, rimmed in gold, the whites brilliant. The last time she had gazed into them, he had met her coach on the road astride Jupiter. Now he stood in the haze of morning and looked straight into her eyes.

  Sir Henry made a gesture with his hand in Juleah's direction. “Braxton, my daughter, Juleah, has come home. Is she not pretty?”

  “Prettier than any woman I’ve seen.” Seth kept his eyes fixed upon her.

  “Braxton, as you know, Juleah, is the gentleman who resides at Ten Width,” Sir Henry announced, with a military inflection in his voice.

  “Yes, Papa. Mr. Braxton and I are acquainted.”

  A quizzical look spread over Sir Henry's face. “Well, he's here to tell us we must leave our home. A battle is soon to ensue. I shall stand my ground and serve my king, sir.” Sir Henry squared his shoulders, puffed out his chest proudly. “Hi ho to Colonel Braddock. He’ll get us out of danger soon enough.”

  Juleah touched her father's hand. “All battles are beyond our doorstep, Papa. We are at peace here, with no war for you to worry over.”

  “But Mr. Braxton met me on the road to warn us against the Indians and the French. I was in the way of his horse. It's true, is it not, Mr. Braxton? Juleah, where is my brace of pistols? Get them for me, my girl.”

  Juleah glanced over at Seth, and caught his troubled expression, aware that her own was one of sadness and despair for her Papa.

  Seth stepped forward. “It is true my horse was in your way, Sir Henry, and I beg your pardon for it. However, your daughter speaks the truth. We are not at war. You needn’t think you must leave your home.”

  Sir Henry's smile faded. “There you see, Juleah, Braxton set me right. Now where is your mother?”

  “In the garden with Tom.” Juleah hastened toward the door that led outside.

  “Juleah. Stay here and entertain the gentleman until I come back. You are safe in his charge. No one will know whether we break the rules of polite society or not.” Sir Henry whistled to his dogs and out the door they trotted with him in the lead.

  “Please excuse my father,” she said. “He is not always himself.”

  “I like him,” Seth replied. “He has a keen sense of humor.”

  “You are right. But his humor leaves him when he retreats back to his youth—when he served under General Braddock.”

  “I don’t doubt his courage. It was a brutal war most men preferred to forget. You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. There are days when he seems content and knows he is at home with his wife and children. He has little memory of my brother, but knows he is gone. To where he does not know.”

  Seth shifted on his feet. “Though a man's mind may fail, he is still a man. I have respect for your father, no matter what he says or how odd he may behave.”

  She smiled at his words and glanced at the floor. The palms of her hands grew moist and nerves prickled over her skin. She hadn’t seen him in months, and it was indeed trying. For most of her life, Juleah had not been in the habit of concealing her feelings. Self-expression was encouraged in her family, not suppressed. But now, with Seth standing before her, she was at a loss for words.

  Seth remained in the doorway, his hat in his hand, and his gaze upon her. He controlled himself well, but fought against the pain of seeing her again, hoping she could see in his eyes what burned in his heart.

  “It's been a long time since we last saw each other. Not a day has gone by that I’ve not thought of you.”

  She lowered her eyes. “How is Caroline?”

  “She sends her regards and hopes to see you soon.”

  He paused a moment, feeling the sting of rejection. He wondered why she evaded him. To steady his emotions he took in a breath. “She had a visitor—Michael Bray. Do you know him?”

  Juleah's eyes brightened. “Captain Bray is a most amiable man.”

  A tense pause followed, while a meadowlark sang in the wisteria vine that hung near the window. Seth wanted to tell her everything, but Caroline had asked him to be silent about her son, believing his young life was in grave danger.

  Seth turned and walked back toward the door. “I was on an errand when I met Sir Henry on the road. I’ve already stayed too long.”

  She stood to see him out. Soon she reached him. When she lifted her gaze, love brimmed within them. He moved his arm around her waist and drew her close. She did not resist.

  “I’ve missed you.” He could not help but long to touch her lips to his and leaned closer. “I’ll be back tomorrow and stop here on my way. When I return—”

  From the open French doors, Thomas ran inside the room. His shaggy dog leapt alongside him. Startled, Seth and Juleah parted.

  “Squire Braxton. Papa said you were here. Do you remember me?”

  “Of course, Master Thomas. You were, after all, one of the first people to welcome me to England.”

  Anna Fallowes floated into the room as light and elegant as a vapor. The hem of her dress rustled along the floor, and she held her hands out to Seth. “My husband says you and he had an exciting meeting. He is not as steady upon a horse as he once was, but for a man of his age he is at least upon one.”

  Seth took h
er hand and bent over to kiss it. “Oh,” she whispered, dropping it to her side. “We’ve not seen you since you shot that monster that tried to harm Juleah. How is your sister? I have meant to call but felt it best to leave Caroline to herself for a while.”

  Seth read in Lady Anna's expression honest concern. “Better, I’m happy to say.” He watched her set her head to one side. She meant to study his reaction to her inquiry.

  “I am pleased to hear it,” she said. “Stay for dinner.”

  “Your ladyship's offer is kind, and I would like to stay. But I must decline.”

  Lady Anna sighed. “That is a pity. I am not accustomed to people turning us down for supper. We set a fine table in this house.”

  Food was the last thing on Seth's mind, and though she looked disappointed, he’d not be persuaded by a woman's somber look. “Perhaps another time,” he suggested.

  “But what is so important to take you away from us?”

  “It is a private matter, my lady. I cannot delay, so I give you my leave.”

  Juleah followed Seth out into the hallway. There in the foyer, dark and cool, Seth opened the door to leave.

  “Tell Caroline I’ll visit soon now that I am home,” she said.

  He nodded a reply and waited, constrained. All the way from Ten Width, he had thought of her. When he met Sir Henry and was obliged to come with him to the house, he hoped she would be at home, that he would see her again.

  The others were behind closed doors now and she, standing before him in the dimness, looked more beautiful than he had remembered. Their separation over the last few months had done nothing to dampen the fire that played between them.

  “Did you receive my letter?”

  “Yes, Seth.”

  “I meant every word.”

  She glanced up at him, and he watched a nervous smile spread over her lips. “Why do you look at me that way?” she whispered.

  “I want to kiss you.”

  “You must go.” She looked back at the sitting room door.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her. The heat of her breath escaped across his cheek. He brushed his lips over hers, soft and tender; she trembled. Willingly, she allowed him to glide his mouth over hers, and she kissed him back. His blood surged like river rapids through his veins.

  It was too much, for he wanted her, all of her. It was natural to feel this way, but he had to rein in his desire and curb his hunger.

  “You will come back, won’t you?” She ran her hand along the curve of his cheek. He turned to kiss her palm.

  “How could I stay away with the way you kiss?”

  They heard the others and drew apart. Reluctant to leave her, Seth stepped outside into the dazzling light.

  Juleah stood inside the doorframe with her palm over her bodice.

  “Yet you won’t admit you love me.” He gave her a tender smile and a nod of his head. He dug his boots deep into the stirrups, turned his horse, and galloped off through a soft mist that rose and wove through the land.

  Juleah stood on the threshold until Seth rode out of view. She turned back inside the house, regretful that they hadn’t had more time together. And this errand that he needed to attend to—it had an air of mystery. Juleah ran a dozen questions through her mind as to its nature and looked back at the crest of land he had galloped over. Then she closed the door.

  In the sitting room at Henry Chase, Sir Henry sat in a chair near the window, smoking a long clay pipe. Lady Anna paced across the room.

  “We must speak, Juleah. You have had four proposals of marriage within the last year, and turned every one of them down. Why?”

  “Because I do not love those who sent them.”

  “Issy wrote in her letter that several gentlemen showed interest and you turned them away. She has me most confused, for she says I must give you more freedom to follow your own heart. What does she mean?”

  “I believe she is suggesting you allow me to decide for myself. Other than that, I do not know.”

  Lady Anna threw out her hands. “You must know something.”

  “I suppose you will want me to make eyes at Mr. Braxton in order to charm him into proposing next.” Juleah smiled, hoping he would.

  Her mother's mouth fell open. “Oh, did you hear her, Henry? Did you hear what she thinks of me?”

  “I cannot help but hear it, my dear.” Sir Henry knocked the ashes from his pipe into a dish. “Juleah is right. You would like it if Mr. Braxton asked for her hand now that he is rich. But it will take more than pretty eyes to squeeze a proposal out of him. He's too occupied upon other matters.”

  “You are not helping, Henry dear.”

  “I am glad for it.” He stood. “I have business with the king's men. They have waited outside too long, and if I do not speak with them, they shall die of boredom right out on our drive. His Majesty will have my head for it.” Sir Henry threw back his shoulders and strutted out.

  Anna pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her teary eyes. It grieved Juleah's mother to hear her husband speak so. At times he lapsed into the past, and when he did return to the present he was as young and spirited for adventure as Thomas. Age crept upon him, and he’d sit in his chair for hours to stare out the window, mumbling to himself, looking as though he was in a faraway place.

  “Papa is all right, Mother. Do not cry,” said Juleah.

  “It grieves me,” Anna said.

  Juleah went to her mother and put her arms around her.

  “Why does your father say such things?”

  “We must be patient with him.”

  “There are no soldiers out on the drive, yet he believes them to be there.” Lady Anna twisted her handkerchief between her hands. “One minute he is here, the next, somewhere else. He speaks of war and next he's walking in the fields hunting rabbits with Thomas.”

  “At least he is happy,” Juleah assured her.

  Lady Anna hung her head. “I hope that is true.”

  “You only have to watch him to know it is.”

  “Mrs. Pepperdine stopped me one day in the village and urged me to put him away, said he was no good to me, a burden. I shan’t do it, Juleah. I’d rather die than send him away.”

  “We shall bear it together, Mother. Papa will abide with us and die in his own bed with his family around him. No one will send him away to strangers.”

  Anna snapped up her daughter's hand in hers. “You are a comfort to me, Juleah.” She wiped her eyes dry. “As far as Mr. Braxton goes, I like him.”

  Juleah stood and leaned toward the window. Outside, Sir Henry walked along his drive, paused and looked down at a dandelion. “Papa likes him a great deal, too.”

  Lady Anna sighed. “He fought against England. And there is your brother we must think about. You have no idea how broken my heart is. My son enlisting to fight in that war, miles and miles away from home in some godforsaken wilderness. And for what, I ask? The king? What did the king care for my son? What did he care for a grieving mother?”

  Juleah turned away from the window. “A pain no mother should bear.”

  “I shall see him again, for I do not doubt I am not long for this world.”

  Juleah rushed to her mother and sat close to her. “You mustn’t say such things. It is distressing to hear.” Her voice was etched with pain.

  Lady Anna rested her handkerchief against her breast. “At times, I have shortness of breath, and my heart pounds. My skin grows chilled, my limbs weak. Doctor Yates says it is high emotions and the strain of life that plagues me. Grief, I say, plays havoc on a woman.”

  Juleah sighed. “Peter would not wish you to grieve long, Mother.”

  “I wonder what Mr. Braxton sacrificed?” Anna gripped the edges of her handkerchief as if to pull it apart.

  Juleah's lips parted, and she found herself answering with sympathy. “He lost his father in the war. Was that not enough?”

  Lady Anna settled back against the cushions. “I had forgotten about that.”


  “Families on both sides suffered, Mother. I will never understand why men solve their differences by waging war and killing one another.”

  Her mother nodded. “If the world would follow the Lord's command to love one another, life would be better everywhere. Do you imagine Mr. Braxton feels homesick for his country and will return some day?”

  This was an idea not to be considered. The thought of Seth leaving caused her much pain. “He has not told me.”

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  “I think he has qualities any woman would like,” said Juleah.

  Her mother took her hands. “I would not want him to take you far away.”

  Juleah recognized the look in Anna's face—one of worry and doubt. “There is no understanding between us, Mother. He has not asked me.”

  “Has he implied it?”

  “That he take me away? Be assured—he has not.” Juleah pulled at a loose thread on the cushion, twisted it between her thumb and finger.

  “This conversation is most confusing,” Lady Anna pressed her fingertips against her temples.

  “Then we should not discuss this topic,” Juleah told her.

  “You are exhausting me, Juleah.” Anna lowered her hands and slapped them on her lap. “Is there any relief?”

  “Would you like to go for a walk? The day is fine.”

  Anna raised her brows. “No. What we shall speak of is the letter that arrived. I saw it on your writing desk. I refused to look at it, but I have a good idea what it says.”

  “Edward Darden sent it.” She did not tell Anna she had not read it, but instead tossed it into the fireplace without a second thought.

  “I thought so. Before he left England, he visited you often. Why has he stopped?”

  “I asked him to stay away.”

  Lady Anna angled her head. “Why?”

  “Something cruel is in his nature. He's changed.”

  “I’ve always thought Darden must be low on the aristocratic family tree, with the way he dresses.”

  Juleah smiled lightly at her mother's flippant comment about clothes. “Darden is selfish and arrogant, Mother. It has little to do with the coat he wears.”