She beamed. “Do you think so? Mariah fixed my hair. She says it’s one of the latest styles the ladies in England are wearing.”
“Papa!” Heather cut in, latching on to her father’s arm. “Please. I can’t wait. I need to know now.”
He chuckled and drew her into a hug. “Of course, my sweet. I surrender. I bought an instrument for each of you.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. “I was unable to find a flute, as you hoped, but the seller did have two violins and a cello. I hope that will please you.”
“What do you say, Mariah?” Heather swiveled in her father’s embrace and turned to her. “Will they do?”
A light laugh accompanied Mariah’s nod. “I should say those instruments will do very nicely, dear. Perhaps once you’ve mastered those, your father can see about adding a flute at some future date.”
The older man shifted his attention to Mariah. “As a matter of fact, I’ve already done so. I asked Mr. Smith, the music seller, to inquire hither and yon for a flute. I’m confident one will turn up before long.”
“Oh, Papa! You are wonderful!” Normally shy Heather threw her arms about him and gave him a big hug. “Where have you put our instruments? I must see them.”
“Why, upstairs, of course. In the farthest reaches of the house.”
“In the schoolroom?”
“Yes. The three of you can go up there and start screeching the bows across the strings to your heart’s content. After supper.” He softened the remark with a playful wink.
Watching the loving exchange, Colin’s gaze once again gravitated to Mariah, and he wished he could give her a playful hug…or any kind of hug. In one short day she had brought new life into the household. How could anyone not see that and adore her as much as he did? Well, perhaps not quite so much, he amended, aware of his mother again. He turned to find her intense brown eyes narrowed and focused on him. He flashed his most charming smile. “How was your day, Mother, dear?”
“Productive.” The curt answer gave indication that she would not be so easily swayed.
Colin was spared further placation of the lady of the house when the brass knocker banged against the entry door. The butler, Benjamin, appeared out of nowhere and opened it wide to allow the visitor to enter.
Pa stepped forward. “Why, Dennis Tucker. I must say, this is an odd time for you to come calling. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?”
Colin stared at the interloper who stood resplendent in a fine navy frock coat and gray breeches, his ruffled white shirt accenting his tanned complexion, and he rolled his eyes.
Dennis swept off his three-cornered hat and handed it to the butler. “Didn’t Colin tell you to expect me?” His gaze roved the gathering, stopping on Mariah. He gave a polite bow of his head. “Miss Harwood. Delightful to see you again.” His gaze lingered briefly, then he returned his attention to the man of the house. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Perhaps another time.”
“Nonsense, my boy.” Pa said. “You know you’re always welcome here.”
“Why, of course.” Mother swept toward him. “You’re most welcome. Amy, go tell Eloise there’ll be one more for supper, and ask Pansy to set another place.” She flicked a glance at Mariah and back to Tuck, a scheming glint in her eye. “We’re delighted to have you join us. Shall we all go to supper?” Taking Father’s arm, she strolled through the parlor toward the dining room.
Colin cringed at his mother’s sugary sweet graciousness and turned on his heel to escort Mariah, but Tuck was already offering the young beauty his arm. It would have been gratifying to wipe that satisfied smirk off his pal’s face, but Colin could not afford to make a scene, could not reveal the depth of the feelings he already had for Mariah. He’d never before been so drawn to a woman.
Fortunately, Victoria moved beside him and threaded her arm through his. Something about the soft light in her eyes and her sweet smile revealed that she understood.
He filled his lungs and manufactured a grin as he patted her hand before starting after the others. “Shall we?” He’d just been outflanked on two sides, but the battle for Mariah Harwood had barely begun.
This is not good. Strolling into the dining room on Dennis Tucker’s arm, Mariah managed to govern her emotions admirably. There was no denying Mistress Barclay’s pleasure in having someone other than Colin show interest in her, and it wouldn’t hurt Colin to have a little competition to increase his regard…but one look at Victoria, and Mariah could see the girl’s heartache. That was really not good. The last thing she wanted was for Victoria to decide she’d rather be sent away to school than stand by and watch her tutoress steal her secret love’s affections. But what could be done? Mariah had no idea how to keep both mother and daughter happy when their desires were at such odds.
Her thoughts in a muddle as she allowed Tuck to seat her, Mariah decided avoidance of the whole drama might be the most prudent tactic. She turned to Heather, being seated on her other side by Tuck. “Heather, dear, have you given thought to which instrument you’d prefer to learn first, the violin or the cello?”
The girl looked at her in all innocence, unaware of the tension surrounding Mariah, and her face brightened. “May I try both of them before I decide?”
“Of course.” Only wishing Victoria looked as happy as her sister, Mariah felt added despair as Tuck positioned himself so closely that his arm brushed hers.
Across the table from Heather, Amy leaned forward and addressed her father at the head. “Poppy, I wish you only bought two instruments. I can’t abide stayin’ inside all day every day. I’m already spendin’ hours and hours practicin’ readin’ and writin’ and cipherin’, how to walk and how to talk. And now music, too?” The last phrase ended on a high-pitched whine.
“Please speak properly, child.” Her mother wagged her head. “The study of music is for your own good, and you did request an instrument of your own. It’s time you stopped spending so many hours down at the stables. Whenever you return to the house, you smell like an old horse blanket, for pity’s sake.”
“Oh, Mother.”
Mariah surmised that if Amy had been standing, she’d have emphasized her last protest with a stomp of her foot. She made an attempt to smooth the child’s ruffled feathers. “You know, Amy, I’ve heard so much about your stable of Thoroughbreds, but I’ve yet to see them. If you promise to work at your music studies, I’d be honored to have you introduce me to every horse on this farm.”
Amy brightened a bit. “Can we do it tomorrow?”
“If your mother approves.” Mariah tipped her head at Mistress Barclay.
The lady of the manor smiled slightly as she eyed her daughter. “Only if you apply yourself to music for at least one hour.”
“A whole hour?” The child’s shoulders sagged. Then, with a look of resolve she perked up. “Oh, very well. One hour at music and one hour showin’ Miss Harwood the stables.”
A chuckle rumbled from her father’s chest. “Colin, my boy, perhaps you and I should take Amy along with us the next time we deal with the tobacco buyers. She drives a hard bargain.”
Mariah chanced a quick glance at Colin and saw him looking at her with a satisfied grin, even as he answered his father. “As you wish. If anyone could wear those thieves down, it would be our little squirt, for sure.”
Mulling over the thought of touring the stables with the youngster on the morrow, Mariah had little doubt that Colin would somehow manage to be there at the same time. How hard could it be to distract an eight-year-old so they could steal a little privacy? A few moments would be enough to whet his interest, while not so much time that his mother would be alerted. Yes. A few sweet stolen moments…
“Shall we bow our heads?” Mister Barclay offered a simple blessing, and directly after the Amens, the tall African butler brought the first serving bowls to the table. Dressed in crisp black and white like the other house slaves, Benjamin moved quietly and efficiently without being obtrusive, as did Pansy and shy little Ivy as they assisted h
im.
Victoria was the first to start the conversation. She offered their guest a tentative smile. “Tuck, we’re so happy to have our Miss Harwood here as our own private tutoress. Colin graciously bought—”
Though Mariah was impressed by the girl’s diction as she spoke in the rather cultured accent she’d been practicing, the word bought hit a sour note. Mariah was grateful when Colin’s voice overrode his sister’s gentle tones.
“Yes, Tuck. I was extremely fortunate to find such an accomplished instructress for my sisters and hired her on the spot. Now Victoria—and hopefully the other girls—will never have to be sent away to school. They made no secret of their dislike of the idea.”
For a split second, Mariah feared the mistress would finish what her daughter started by mentioning that she was actually here as an indentured servant. Then she realized it wouldn’t be in her employer’s best interest. The woman wanted Tuck to think Mariah was a worthy conquest.
Apparently the young man did just that, as he tilted a dimpled cheek toward Mariah and smiled. “Beauty and education. What more could one ask?” A spark of humor lit his hazel eyes.
Remembering Victoria, Mariah shot a glance across to see if her jealous young charge would finish telling Dennis Tucker what she’d started saying a moment ago. But the girl was filling her plate as if nothing were amiss, which unnerved Mariah all the more. At any moment the lass so chose, she could blithely blurt out that Mariah was nothing but a bond slave—no matter how much she tried to pretend she wasn’t.
A subject change was again in order. She turned to Colin. “Mr. Barclay, while you and your father were in Alexandria, were you successful in arranging the horse race you were hoping to schedule?”
He blotted his lips on his napkin and met her eyes. “Please call me Colin. Otherwise I’ll think you’re addressing my father. And yes, our friend Quince Sherwood is going to invite a few other horsemen he knows to participate. We thought it would be grand to make a festive day of it. Games, a picnic, that sort of thing.”
Secretly reveling in the intensity of his gaze, Mariah had a fairly good idea what he meant by a festive day.
Tuck whacked his leg. “I say, old man, that sounds like great fun.” He then tilted his head toward Mariah. “Miss Harwood, I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to the festivities.”
Her spirits sank. Would this day never end? “Actually,” she fibbed, “I promised the girls I’d accompany them to all social gatherings. Didn’t I, Victoria?” She waited for what seemed forever for the lass to answer, hoping, hoping…
“Why, yes, she did.” Victoria feigned a note of regret in her voice. “But, Tuck, you’d be most welcome to join us, of course.” She offered him a bright smile.
Mariah stifled a sigh of relief.
“Now that that’s settled,” the lady of the house announced, “I suggest we finish our meal before it gets cold.”
For the second time, Mariah felt utterly grateful to her mistress. Perhaps she’d survive the evening after all. She relaxed and took another spoonful of her venison stew.
The conversation then centered on an upcoming wedding at a neighboring plantation, guests who were expected to attend, and the gala celebration afterward. Mariah gave it little attention, since she didn’t know anyone mentioned. She was glad when Pansy brought in the dessert.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Tuck drawled.
Everyone looked up from their bowl of peach cobbler to him.
Mariah stiffened, wondering if she would be the topic yet again.
But the young man turned his attention to Colin. “I originally came by to find out if you’d learned anything new about that French force marching down toward the Ohio River. You didn’t have a chance to elaborate when we met on the road yesterday.”
Mariah breathed more easily. Men and politics. She only half listened as Colin related to his friend the same information he’d given his father the evening before.
Tuck shook his sandy head. “When I was at the Patterson Plantation last night, the men there were talkin’ about it. If New York’s governor doesn’t raise a militia to stop ’em, Mr. Patterson says Governor Dinwiddie will. He said the Virginia Colony ain’t about to hand over the Ohio Valley to the Frenchies. There’s too much wealth in the fur trade. Patterson said Dinwiddie won’t wait months for word to get to England and orders to come back. By then the French could have all the tribes bought off, and the whole territory would be lost to us.”
Mr. Barclay shook his head, a worried expression drawing his brows together. “Let’s just pray that Governor Clinton will send his Indian agent, that Johnson fellow from up in the Mohawk Valley, to meet with the tribes loyal to the Crown. From what I hear, he has great influence with them. He even married one of them. If he can keep the Indians from siding with the French, they’ll just have to traipse on back to Canada again.”
“Right.” Colin nodded. “That’ll probably be the end of it.” He then glanced across the table at Mariah. “As Pa and I mentioned last night concerning your sister, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“It would be a sorry shame if nothing came of the affair.” Tuck flashed a strange grin. “I, for one, would love a chance for some high adventure, ridin’ off into the great unknown. Wouldn’t you, old man?” He eyed Colin.
Mistress Barclay let out a weary breath. “Enough politics for one evening. We have a special treat for you this evening, Dennis. If Miss Harwood would favor us with a few pieces on the harpsichord. I think you will be pleasantly surprised.”
Bravo! Mistress Barclay outmaneuvered everyone again and returned us to her agenda, pairing me with Dennis Tucker. Mariah squelched the snide thought. But one thing was certain. Quite the expert manipulator, the lady of the manor was a woman to be admired…and watched—closely watched.
Chapter 8
Colin looked at his timepiece. He’d been at the stables for more than an hour and was running out of things to check on. He gazed up at the big house. How much longer would Mariah hold class before she dismissed the girls?
Noticing the furtive glances between Old Samuel, the Negro horse groomer, and redheaded Geoffrey Scott, the trainer, Colin knew they were puzzled at his puttering around with nonessentials.
At last he spotted movement on the covered office porch, where bright afternoon light played over flouncy skirts. Mariah and Amy had finally come outside and would reach the stables in moments.
He turned to Geoff. “When my sister and Miss Harwood arrive here shortly, I’d appreciate bein’ able to have some time alone with the tutor. See if you can come up with somethin’ to divert Amy’s attention elsewhere. You know the child’s tendency to…exaggerate.” Tattle was closer to the truth.
Geoff nodded with understanding and flicked his green eyes in the direction of the girls. “So that’s the beautiful Miss Harwood the little gal’s been telling us about, the bond servant you brought home from Baltimore.”
Colin turned and saw that Mariah and Amy had already passed the rose garden. Even from this distance he was caught by the Englishwoman’s matchless beauty. He switched his attention back to the horse trainer. “Yes. But she’s not to be treated like a servant. I expect you to show her the utmost respect.” Even as he spoke, he realized coming to her defense was becoming a habit.
Geoff eyed Colin straight on. “I would hope the lass will be treated with respect by one and all.”
Knowing the trainer to be a zealous Presbyterian, Colin surmised the man’s “one and all” referred to more than just the hired help. “That goes without saying. Miss Harwood is a real lady.”
With the barest hint of a smile, Geoff glanced beyond him. “Then I’ll trust you to be a true gentleman yourself.”
“Of course.” It appeared Colin would find no ally in the horse trainer. Added to that, he could hear lanky-framed Old Samuel chuckling as he mucked out the stall beside him. Ignoring the white-haired slave, Colin cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go fetch the young ladies.�
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This balmy afternoon was the first time Mariah had been outside the manse since her arrival at the plantation, and she was truly in awe of the beautiful grounds she could now observe close-up. The plants in the kitchen plot teemed with life, emitting a healthy freshness that blended with the sweet perfume from the rose garden, where blooms in varied hues stirred on the breeze. She breathed in the mixture of scents as she and Amy headed for the stables and pastures that lay downwind of the big house.
Mariah discovered the vast farm had buildings, sheds, and cabins enough to be its own small village. Beyond the structures, she could see a goodly number of slaves out in the fields, cutting leaves from the long rows of lush tobacco plants and stacking them in neat piles.
“Look, there’s Colin.” Amy pointed toward the stables and grabbed Mariah by the hand. “He’s there with Mister Scott and Old Samuel. You’ll like both of ’em.”
Being tugged along by the girl, Mariah had trouble dismissing the sight of so many African slaves laboring in the hot sun. As a bond servant, she had only a few more rights than those fieldworkers. Mistress Barclay had the legal entitlement to order her out in the fields alongside the slaves at any time, should she so choose.
“Blast!” Amy huffed. “Here comes that bossy brother of mine. Colin always has to butt in. I wanted to be the one to show you the stables myself.”
“And you shall.” Mariah gave the child’s hand an encouraging squeeze. But she could no more hold back the smile already dancing across her lips at the sight of the strikingly handsome son and heir than she could stop the sun from shining.
“Go away, Colin.” Amy folded her arms and pouted. “I’m going to show Miss Harwood the horses.”
“As you wish, squirt.” He grinned. “I won’t say a word…except good afternoon to you lovely ladies.”
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 38
