Mariah sensed that the woman’s suspicions had again been aroused. “He did it as a favor for my sisters and me. I asked him to check on the welfare of my family if he happened to travel in the vicinity. My father was so very distressed when we departed last spring, I feared for his health.”
The mistress gave a thoughtful nod. “Of course, that son of ours would do no less, I’m sure.” She paused and her smile returned. “Speaking of being distressed, I suppose Dennis Tucker also went off with the militia.”
“Yes, madam, he did. In fact, he’s the one who came for Colin after Colin had barely arrived.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m sad that Dennis won’t be around to turn Victoria’s head for a while. Perhaps Edward will have a better chance now of charming her. Or did he report, as well?”
“I’m afraid that’s something I do not know. But Victoria will likely be upset, regardless. She’s so enjoyed all the attention the young men have paid her these past months.” Mariah nibbled a bit of her biscuit.
“She has, hasn’t she?” The woman’s lips slid into an easy motherly grin as she took another sip from her cup. “My sweet baby girl is growing up. And Mariah, dear, I must not forget you. You’ve been doing such a wonderful job tutoring her and our other daughters also. Even Amy is beginning to act like a proper girl on occasion.”
Mariah had to smile. “Thank you. Those girls are such dears that—”
“That’s it!” Mistress Barclay clapped her hands together. “I have a wonderful idea. You deserve a special treat. And since our young men have traipsed off on their grand adventure, we should go on an adventure of our own. We’ll take a coastal packet down to Williamsburg to see a play or two. That’s sure to give Victoria something to think about other than her beaus. Besides—” She quirked a brow. “They have the most marvelous shops there.”
Mariah was astounded that Colin’s mother could act so nonchalant today after her violent reaction the previous evening. “But…shouldn’t we wait here for news from the militia?”
Cora Barclay sent her a motherly look. “Not to worry, my dear. Eldon has assured me that the men won’t even attempt to contact the French until after the spring thaw. For now they shall merely be getting into position and fortifying things. We’ve plenty of time.”
My, how her fortune had changed since she arose this morning. Mariah glanced at her plate and noticed how much more appealing the food looked. She realized she was ravenously hungry. She picked up her spoon and dipped into the fruit. “Victoria has told me that Williamsburg is a lovely, genteel city. I would be thrilled to go on this little adventure with you.”
From the deck railing of the coastal packet, Mariah gazed ashore at the busy wharf with its large warehouses and beyond to the higher ground that housed the sprawling settlement of Williamsburg. She turned to offer Mistress Barclay and the two older girls an excited grin. They’d arrived at last.
Though they’d all been eager to embark on the jaunt to the capital, three long weeks of bad weather had delayed their departure—stormy weeks that Colin had likely spent traveling into the backcountry. But as his mother had remarked often enough, her son had made the choice himself to go with the militia in the winter. Perhaps a bit of hardship would bring him home all the sooner. At least she could hope for that.
Refusing to dwell on the fact that Colin had once again left her to fend for herself, Mariah returned her attention to the activity on the waterfront, watching the burly dockworkers loading and unloading cargo from various vessels in the port.
Victoria moved up beside her mother as the gangplank was lowered to the dock. “Why can’t we visit a few shops and show Mariah around town before we go to the Everards’ house? You and Mistress Everard will spend hours and hours catching up on the latest happenings while we’re forced to entertain those little girls of hers. That will be as tiresome as having Amy along, especially when Heather, Mariah, and I could be truly enjoying ourselves strolling about the shops.”
Ambling toward the ship’s gate, the older woman shot her daughter a stern glower. “And just what would my friend Diana think when our luggage arrived without us? I wouldn’t think of being so rude, and neither should you. Besides, I’ve been wanting to see her and Thomas’s new home since they moved in.”
Heather, on her other side, spoke up. “You’re absolutely right, Mama. I can’t wait to surprise Francis and Martha with how well I’ve learned to play the flute and violin in a mere nine months.”
Nine months! Had it really been that long? Following behind the threesome, Mariah sighed. Nine months since she’d come to live with the Barclays, and she had yet to wed Colin. The better part of a year as a bond servant, and she could see no end in sight. Yet her sister who’d been sent deep into the wilderness had managed not only to return to civilization a free woman, but marry. Rose, married! Mariah couldn’t help but fight tears every time she recalled her sister’s words in the letter that had arrived last week. Her rather plain, spinster sister had wed before she—the beauty of the family. And all because Colin cared more about promoting his honor than he cared about her.
Victoria slowed to join Mariah as her mother and sister strolled down the gangplank. She leaned close. “It’s been two whole months since Tuck and Edward left to train with the militia, too,” she murmured softly, then raised her voice to a normal level. “One thing is certain. If I happen to meet some handsome gentlemen who desire to spend time in my company, I shall not discourage them. In fact, I’d welcome thoughtful young men who refrain from leaving their ladies behind so they can go off to shoot at Frenchmen. What a useless pursuit.”
Mariah had to smile. Perhaps Tori had the right idea. In this port no one knew Mariah was a bond servant. How tempting it would be to allow her own gaze to wander a little. Just then, a breeze off the water toyed with her light cloak. As she gathered the edges together, her hand brushed over the amethyst hidden on the chain beneath her lace tucker, proof of Colin’s offer of marriage. She might not have the ring on her finger yet, but Colin was a far more desirable catch than that poor, woodsy frontiersman Rose had wed. Mayhap it would be best to wait a little longer. After all, he did happen to be the proverbial bird in the hand, if he’d only stop flying off all the time.
“Bolts of fabric from Paris!” a hawker shouted, dodging a loaded wagon and team rumbling across the wharf toward the business district. “Unloaded today! See them at the millinery shop!”
“Did you hear that, Mama?” Victoria all but ran down the gangplank. “Paris fabrics!”
Tucking her chin and elevating her brows, her mother caught hold of Tori’s arm and drew her alongside. “Do remember you’re a lady, Victoria. As soon as I hire a conveyance to take us, along with Lizzie and our luggage to the Everards’, we shall be the gracious guests I know we can be. There will be ample time for shopping later.”
“And lots of time to go to the theater, too.” Heather’s blue eyes sparkled.
Mariah understood the girl’s reasoning. Musicians would be there to accompany the players. Just thinking about the possibilities ahead, her own excitement stirred. Why should she not enjoy herself while she visited the city with this wealthy family? Although she’d lived in Bath as a tradesman’s daughter, most of the glamour and excitement of the resort had been reserved for members of the aristocracy. Here in Williamsburg with the Barclays, she could move in the best circles of the fledgling society—as long as no one found out she was a servant. For this week, at least, she truly belonged in the family. She threaded her arm through Victoria’s as they approached a carriage for hire.
A gentle breeze stirred through trees just beginning to bud and leaf out on this gloriously mild day of April’s second week. Overhead, in a sky of brilliant blue, puffy clouds floated lazily across the broad expanse. As the aged horse pulling the carriage clopped along Williamsburg’s wide, packed-clay streets, Mariah turned her head this way and that, admiring the town’s neat weatherboard houses with their broad-based chimneys. Many larger
residences were made of brick and sat amid formal gardens that soon would burst forth in full glory. Surely that would be a sight to behold. Already the season’s first brave flowers peeked out of the dark ground here and there, bobbing their bright yellow, white, and purple heads.
Beside her, Victoria sat in speechless anticipation, ogling every display window in the array of shops they passed. It would be hard to keep up with the girl once Mistress Barclay turned her loose. Smiling to herself, Mariah filled her lungs with the fresh breath of spring. This truly would be a grand adventure.
Chapter 22
Who’d have thought George Washington would have the audacity to order the military to travel in this miserable weather?” Tuck shook his head, and rain dripped from all three corners of his cocked hat. “It’s takin’ weeks.”
Riding beside his friend as they headed for the Wills Creek Station, the first in a string of trading posts stretching all the way to the Ohio Valley, Colin chuckled and tugged his heavy wool cape closer. “Just be glad we’re not walkin’ in this muck like most of the other boys.” He glanced back at the nearly three hundred men trudging up a trail heavily wooded on either side. Two loaded wagons lumbered slowly along, spitting mud at the grim-faced militiamen slogging along behind. A small herd of cattle churned through at the rear.
At least they were moving. Several times on the trip, the teams of horses had been unable to pull the wagons up a steep hill, and the men had to unload the crates and sacks and lug the supplies up through the slick mire themselves. With heavy rain and sleet hindering their progress, the group was making very poor time in reaching a post less than 150 miles from Alexandria.
Colin looked ahead, where George Washington rode at the front of the column. George expected his men to arrive at the trading post within the hour and rest there for a few days. Thank heaven.
Tuck edged his chestnut mount closer to Colin’s and muttered a comment he’d made at least half a dozen times already. “The French enjoy their creature comforts far too much to be out in this freezing mess, you know.” He exhaled a frosty breath. “I don’t think George should’ve been put in charge of this expedition. He’s too young, and we both know it.”
Colin gave a nonchalant shrug. “Perhaps. But he does have some experience, at least. He’s been comin’ out here for the last three or four years surveyin’. If nothin’ else, he knows the area. We don’t. He also knows where the French are. He’s even parlayed with ’em.”
“And let us not forget,” Tuck grumbled, “he’s a particular friend of Lord Fairfax—”
“Who has Governor Dinwiddie’s ear.” Colin checked to make sure the men behind them weren’t eavesdropping, then turned forward again.
“So.” Tuck swiped a droplet off his nose. “He gets to decide that the rest of us catch our death out here in the elements. I should’ve stayed home. With everybody else gone, I would’ve had a clear field with lovely little Tori.”
Colin narrowed his gaze. “No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t be alone with her. I’d be there to keep an eye on you.”
“Ha! Like your mother watched you when you were sniffin’ around your Mariah?”
My Mariah. So easily Colin’s mind filled with thoughts of his English beauty, recalling the expressive violet eyes that stole his breath, the sound of her soothing voice….
Tuck snorted. “You’re far worse than me, old man. When it comes to a winsome belle, you end up talkin’ out of both sides of your mouth.”
“You’re right.” Colin couldn’t help the sappy grin that quirked his lips. “But then, you were no better when it came to your older sister Trudie, as I recall.”
Tuck’s laugh met a swift end as he stopped and stared toward the front of the line.
A rider approached.
“I wonder who that could be.” Colin heeled his mottled gray horse, Storm, forward and veered around the few rows of militia separating him from the front.
Tuck followed suit.
The burly rider reached Washington at the same time Colin and Tuck did. Soaked and muddy as his panting horse, he rendered a sloppy salute. “Sir, thank God you’ve come. The last of our men are just now stragglin’ into Wills Creek Station.”
“What men?” Washington’s pocked face was stone rigid. “I was told the British regulars wouldn’t arrive for another week or so.”
“I don’t know nothin’ about that, sir. I’m with Lieutenant Trent. We was overrun by the French.”
“I assume you’re speaking of William Trent, are you not?” Frowning, George guided his mount closer to the newcomer.
“Yessir, I am. But he wasn’t there when they come upon us. The first lieutenant left to get more supplies. Ensign Ward was in charge.”
“And you say the French attacked you. Where was that, exactly?”
The man shook his head. “They didn’t attack us, exactly. They come from upriver. Hundreds of ’em, in bateaux and canoes. And they brung cannons. I counted eighteen, myself. They had ’em all lined up, pointin’ right at us.”
Colin exchanged glances with Tuck. The French weren’t holed up taking it easy during the winter weather after all. They’d gone down an ice-cluttered river, ready for battle. With cannons, no less. Definitely not good news.
“Sir,” the bearded messenger continued, “there was only forty-one of us, an’ our fort weren’t near finished. Anyways, them Frenchies told us they wouldn’t do us no harm iffen we’d leave and never come back. So you see, sir, we didn’t have no choice.”
Appearing to mull the information over briefly, Washington nodded with a calmness that surprised Colin. “Has Lieutenant Trent rejoined you?”
“Yessir. We met up on the trail. A good thing, too, ’cause we was gettin’ a mite hungry, us bein’ short of food, an’ all.”
Washington gave him another polite nod. “Well, thank you for informing me of the situation. Ride on back and inform your superiors we will be there shortly.”
As the hefty militiaman snapped a salute and rode away, George turned to Colin, looking every inch the confident leader. “The French have taken the fort Lieutenant Trent was building where the Allegheny from the north and the Monongahela from the south join and become the Ohio River.” He frowned and shook his head. “It’s the most strategic location on the frontier. Whoever controls that spot controls all the waterways. It’s vital that we take it back.”
“Thomas Everard is a gentleman of standing here in Williamsburg,” Mrs. Barclay remarked as the carriage drew up before a wood-framed townhome somewhat more modest, but no less charming, than some of the elegant mansions they’d passed. “He’s the clerk of the General Court, you know.”
Captivated momentarily by the sight of the Governor’s Palace sitting like a jewel at the northern end of the broad street, Mariah nodded politely and returned her attention to the gable-roofed dwelling kitty-corner to it where they’d be staying during their visit. In all likelihood, it would contain furnishings as fine as any possessed by the Barclay family and their other affluent friends. She followed the family up the brick walkway to the front door, while Lizzie remained with the luggage.
The fashionably attired matron of the house rushed forth the moment the servant ushered the party inside. Tall and slender of bearing, she looked to be several years younger than Mistress Barclay. “Cora, Cora. I am so glad you’ve arrived. I’ve been on tenterhooks awaiting your visit ever since I received your letter.”
As the women gushed their greetings to each other, Mariah’s eyes drank in the richness of the central hall with its wainscoting and a fine staircase with elaborately turned balusters and sweeping handrails. The step brackets were richly ornamented with intricate carvings. Large urns positioned on cherrywood pedestals overflowed with fresh flowers emitting a heady fragrance into the air.
“Why, you’re as beautiful as ever, I vow,” Mistress Everard breathed. “And this can’t be little Victoria, all grown up and so pretty.” She released Mistress Barclay and took Tori’s hands then reached fo
r Heather. “And you, my dear, must have grown at least five inches since last we saw you.”
“I can play the flute and violin now, too.” Heather never missed an opportunity to mention her new talent.
“Oh my.” The mistress placed a hand to her bosom. “How wonderful. You must play something for us later.”
Just as the woman was about to turn to Mariah, what sounded like a herd of horses on the floor above came galloping toward the staircase. Down came two young girls, ruffles and lace billowing and bouncing, their sausage curls flying out. “Amy! Heather!” one of them called.
“Girls! Do calm yourselves!” A bit flustered, their mother turned back to her guests with a puzzled expression on her exquisite features. “Where is our darling Amy? I don’t see her.”
“I’m afraid Amy wasn’t up to traveling aboard the packet, Diana,” Mistress Barclay explained. “She’s been having trouble with an upset stomach of late.”
Mariah darted a glance to Tori and Heather to make sure they didn’t blurt out the truth—that their little sister would rather sleep out in the stable with the horses than go shopping and attend plays, much less put up with what she considered silly, giggly, little girls.
The lady of the house shook her elegantly coifed head, her shining dark curls reflecting light from wall sconces. “How unfortunate. Francis and Martha were so looking forward to seeing her.”
The joy on the faces of the young sisters wilted, and the older one, who appeared about seven, let out a whine. “Amy’s not here? But I drew her a really pretty picture.”
Her mother cupped her chin. “Darling, I’m sure Victoria and Heather would love to see your picture.”
The youngest one, possibly five years of age, piped up. “Mine, too.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” Mistress Everard turned to the Barclay girls. “Would you mind going upstairs with my daughters? They’ve been working on a surprise for you girls since we received word you were coming.”
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 50
