Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140)

by Crawford, Dianna; Laity, Sally

  “Then Nate did the best he could,” Mariah said in a near whisper.

  “Quite. And you should be grateful that Colin was unconscious for the next three days. He missed our shameful surrender of Fort Necessity and the Great Meadows. Our militia was far too outnumbered. From what I heard, there’s not another live Englishman on the other side of the mountain now.” Tuck’s expression turned brittle, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “All because none of the other governors would lift a finger to help.”

  “How awful.” Tori sprang to her feet and went to him. “But you’re home now, safe and sound. Surely the other colonies will understand the seriousness of the French invasion after learning about this latest atrocity.”

  The tension left Dennis’ shoulders as he took her hands in his and smiled. “I hope so, sweetheart. I certainly hope so.”

  “I’m surprised Nate Kinyon didn’t accompany you here, Dennis,” Mariah interjected. “Was he too badly injured?”

  “No, miss. The musket shot grazed his leg, but the wound was patched up afterward. Nate was with us most of the way back, but he lives upstream from here. When we reached his settlement, he went on home to his Rose.”

  Benjamin leaned his black face into the doorway. “Mistah Tucker, we gots some food for you in da dinin’ room.”

  “Sounds great. Thank you. I could use a quick bite, then I must be off. My folks will think I’m dead if the militia passes by our place and I’m not with ’em.”

  With the three sisters clustered around Dennis, the foursome left the parlor for the dining room.

  Mariah chose another direction. Desperate for a few minutes alone, she ambled outside and down the veranda steps, heading for the gazebo.

  As she reached the corner of the manse and the charming white-latticed structure came into view, the floodgates behind her eyes finally broke. Hardly able to see for the tears, she picked up her skirts and ran past the hedged garden to the octagonal summer building where she wouldn’t be heard. Sobbing openly, she raced up the steps and into the gazebo’s shade, where she gave full vent to her sorrow.

  She covered her mouth with both hands and slumped down to a bench as heart-wrenching wails from deep inside shook her being. Her beautiful man, the one who had always gazed at her with such worshipful eyes, her Colin who had traveled to Bath to help her father with his financial plight…Colin who brought back a ring as proof of his troth, who said he loved her, wanted to marry her…That man was…was her one true love. She knew that now. It wasn’t his wealth she wanted, it wasn’t his fine position in life. It was the man himself. She vowed she would do whatever it took, how ever long it took, to be with him, to take care of him, to love him.

  Why had she never realized how deep her feelings for Colin had grown? Yet he hadn’t asked for her, hadn’t so much as spoken her name. Why hadn’t he? Did he even remember her? All her scheming and planning had caught up with her, just as Rose predicted, and now Colin was quite possibly lost to her forever. Oh, how it hurt to love him still.

  After a time, Mariah’s sobs died away, and she pondered who Colin was now, how much he must have changed. What would it be like to suddenly become blind? She couldn’t imagine being deprived of sight. Not being able to see everything that now lay before her eyes—this lovely home, its furnishings, the gardens, her clothes, the sight of Colin’s teasing grin. A lifetime of darkness lay ahead of him now. Surely blindness must be akin to being buried alive.

  She emitted a shuddering sigh. Even if he did remember her, Colin couldn’t possibly still be the man who had asked her to marry him. No. His days of coming to her rescue were over, and he’d always been too much the knight in shining armor to allow her to come to his aid.

  Tears again threatened. Angrily she shook them away. She must think of herself now.

  She glanced down toward the stables. Geoffrey Scott was at this moment leading two horses toward a pasture gate—the two she and Amy had planned to ride earlier today. The trainer was perhaps a decade older than she, but rather handsome in a quiet sort of way. Narrowing her eyes as she studied him, Mariah shuddered. No. She could never wed Geoffrey, knowing Colin was so close, wanting to be with him, wanting him to look at her as he used to. The very thought of him never seeing her again made her heart ache.

  Nothing was left to her but to write to Rose and Nate and ask them to pay off her indenturement, since Papa would eventually reimburse them. Then she’d go and live with them until she learned to stop loving Colin, how ever long that would take.

  But then what? Rose and her husband lived in the woods outside a primitive settlement. What chance for any kind of an advantageous marriage would she find there?

  Mariah let out a long, slow breath and glanced across the fields where the slaves were carrying the last of the tobacco leaves to the drying sheds. Summer would be over soon. Winter—dreary winter—would soon be upon them. For Colin it had already arrived. How would they all survive such sorrow?

  One of Rose’s favorite sayings drifted to mind: Take care of today, and leave tomorrow’s worries with the Lord.

  Of course. She’d been running headlong ahead of herself. Again. She would leave tomorrow to the Lord. Rising to her feet, Mariah tugged a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dabbed away the remains of her tears. What was needed right now was to get through the rest of this woeful day. And the first order of business was to get some cold water to splash on her face. Crying made her look simply dreadful.

  Mariah’s eyes weren’t the only ones swollen and red that evening at supper. Even Mr. Barclay’s face showed signs that he, too, had wept. Attempting to give a brief blessing over the food, his voice broke when he mentioned Colin’s name. And that made Mariah want to start bawling again.

  No one else spoke either, except to ask occasionally for the pitcher of lemonade to be passed. The fried chicken on their plates grew cold as everyone just pushed it around in silence. Now and then someone would flick a glance toward the staircase and the upper floor, where Colin had asked to be left alone to rest. He had yet to speak to her, Mariah, his betrothed.

  Finally Mistress Barclay rose from the table. “Shall we adjourn to the parlor? I’d appreciate it, Mariah, if you’d play the harpsichord for us this evening. Something soft and soothing, if you will.”

  “Yes. Something soothing.” Mariah nodded, almost afraid to meet the older woman’s gaze and see the anguish that his mother’s heart had to feel.

  But the lady of the manor wasn’t looking at her. She stared past Mariah out the terrace doors, tears welling in her eyes.

  Mariah breathed deeply to keep her own from spilling forth.

  Never before had an evening been so quiet. No one spoke as they sat absorbed in their own thoughts, tears quietly flowing as Mariah played soothing pieces by Bach and Haydn. Thankfully having memorized them, she had no need to read the music through her tears.

  Amy stood to her feet before the sky had darkened enough for stars to appear. “I’m tired. I’m goin’ to bed.” That from a child who possessed boundless energy?

  Soon after, Victoria also got up. “It’s been a long day.” As she passed Heather, her sister followed.

  Mariah continued to play, hoping the elder Barclays would also retire. She wanted nothing more than for this dreadful day to end. But the pair sat motionless, appearing oblivious to the music.

  Detecting footsteps padding across the foyer toward the parlor, Mariah looked up from the keys and dabbed her wet eyes on her sleeve.

  Lizzie, who’d been asked to sit outside Colin’s door in case he needed anything, stood in the doorway. “Ma’am? Mastah Colin, he askin’ for Missy Harwood to come.”

  Mariah’s pulse began to throb in her aching head. Her hands froze on the keys. Colin wanted to see her! He had remembered her after all! Noting that his parents’ gazes were now riveted on her, she hoped they weren’t angry that he’d sent for her instead of them.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she managed to croak. She rose on shaky legs and st
arted for the foyer.

  “Give him our love,” Mistress Barclay murmured after her.

  “Yes, do that.” Her husband put an arm about his wife and hugged her close.

  Mariah didn’t remember ascending the grand staircase, but reaching Colin’s chamber, she entered and closed the door behind her. The room lay in darkness, devoid of a single lamp’s glow. But faint light came from the open balcony doors, where she saw slight movement. “Colin?”

  “I’m outside.” He spoke in the same emotionless tone she’d heard earlier. “Come join me. It’s cooler out here.”

  She found his shadowy figure in a chair with an iced drink jingling in his hand—the only other sound besides those of the crickets, tree toads, and other night creatures. Colin smelled of the pleasant spiced soap Eloise always made.

  “Have a seat.” He gestured in no particular direction.

  “Thank you.” Swallowing against a lump forming in her throat, Mariah settled her skirts about her on a cushioned, scrolled-iron chair nearby and forced a cheerful note into her voice. “You’re right. ’Tis quite a bit cooler out here.”

  “How are my parents faring?”

  His quiet question was hard to answer. What should she say? Realizing he’d asked her because he wanted the truth, she spoke in all candor. “They sent their love. And I do believe I can tell you that everyone is—is—”

  He raised a hand. “No need to say more.” He inhaled a breath, audible since only a small table separated the two of them. “When I woke up and discovered I couldn’t see, I found it hard to accept, myself.”

  Mariah turned toward him. “Oh, dearest Colin, how dreadful for you.” She wished she could see his face clearly, make out his expression.

  “Nate Kinyon and his partner, Black Horse Bob, were there,” he cut in as if she hadn’t spoken. “They helped me past the worst part. Quoted lots of scripture, gave me long talks about how much worse things could be and the fine life I still have ahead of me.” He gave a small huff. “Speakin’ of Nate, he’s truly an exceptional man. Your sister is fortunate to have him for a husband.”

  “Yes. When they were here, they seemed very…” She almost said, very much in love, but changed her mind. “Very well suited.”

  “Rose must be quite the woman, then. You should’ve heard the way he went on about her.”

  Mariah felt the same twinge of jealousy she’d always felt as a child when her aunt and uncle or their clergyman would go on and on about what a treasure Papa had in Rose. She inhaled a cleansing breath. “I’m sure Nate would praise her. Rose is a woman of great virtue.”

  For the first time, Colin turned toward her. “I’m glad to hear you say that.” Reaching to the small table at his side, he plucked something rectangular from it and held it out to her.

  Mariah grasped it and saw it was a folded document.

  “Your indenturement papers. I’ve signed your release.”

  He was giving her back her freedom?

  “But—”

  “Dearest Mariah, I’ve had weeks to think about this. A beautiful woman such as yourself needs a man who will appreciate being able to feast his eyes on that loveliness every day the two of you spend together. Needless to say, I no longer have that ability.”

  Her heart stopped. “You’re rescinding your marriage proposal?”

  “It’s the only gentlemanly thing to do. I don’t want you to be saddled with a blind man for the rest of your life. And I’m certain your father would agree with me.”

  “But…but…I love you, Colin. Truly I do.”

  “I thank you for that. It’s wonderful to hear. It really is. But I’m no longer the same man you fell in love with. And I don’t want to be that poor blind fellow his long-suffering wife has to lead around. I’ll make arrangements for an escort for you to your sister’s in the morning. I’d also like you to take a nice colt and two fillies with you as a thank-you to Nate for saving my life, such as it is.”

  “No.” How dare he make this decision without her?

  “They’ll follow along quite nicely, I’m sure.”

  “Who will?”

  “The horses. They won’t be much trouble. I’ll have Geoff choose some with good temperaments.”

  “That isn’t what I meant. I’m not leaving.”

  “Mariah, my dear, weren’t you listening? There’s nothing here for you anymore.”

  She sprang to her feet. “You are here! You are not nothing!” Clutching her hands together to calm herself, she lowered her voice. “This has been a very long day. We can speak again in the morning.”

  “My decision won’t change.”

  Mariah whirled away. “And neither will mine.”

  Chapter 29

  Mariah awoke in the pale pink light of dawn with new resolve. She’d lain awake for a good hour or more during the night, her mind vacillating from one emotion to another until she formulated a plan, a foolproof plan to make Colin want her to stay.

  With a determined smile, she rose quietly, not wanting to awaken Amy in the next room. She made her bed and took care of her morning toilette, dressing quickly. Her appearance was no longer of importance to Colin.

  But something else did matter to him. If he was so taken by Nate’s mere description of Rose, Mariah merely had to do and say exactly the kinds of things her sister would. There’d be nothing to it. Hadn’t she watched long-suffering Rose her whole life? Always doing for others, quoting the appropriate scripture for any occasion—at her?

  Well, perhaps she wouldn’t be quite as long-suffering as Rose. Her older sister had a penchant for taking self-sacrifice to such an extreme that, had she not ended up the lone white woman in Indian Territory, she surely would have continued her dull journey into a life of spinsterhood.

  Chuckling to herself, Mariah thought back on the scripture she’d read to the girls a few days before: “Put on the whole armor of God.”

  Suddenly she remembered her betrothal ring. Removing it from its chain, she slipped the amethyst onto the correct finger, and held out her hand to admire its rich beauty. Then, after a passing glance at her sensible hairstyle, she turned on her heel and headed for the door. Convinced she was fully armored, she marched out ready for battle, but catching sight of Amy in slumber, she quieted her steps. War was far better waged without that child’s impetuous mouth getting in the way.

  No sign of life came from the older girls’ room as Mariah tiptoed down the hall. Good. Going into a man’s private chamber at this hour simply was not done. Pausing at Colin’s door, she decided against rapping, since even that light sound might be heard. She walked in quite brazenly and closed the door behind her without a sound.

  But Colin wasn’t in his walnut four-poster bed. She scanned the masculine room with its sturdy furnishings and multihued coverlet only to discover it empty. Had he perchance stayed outside on the balcony all night?

  Crossing the room, she checked to see if he was outside, and when he was not, she surmised he must have gone downstairs ahead of her. She hurried out, hoping to catch him alone, before either of his parents awakened.

  She was too late. As she entered the parlor, the drone of male voices drifted from the dining room. Passing through the doorway separating the two rooms, she spotted Colin and his father at the far end of the long table, talking in subdued voices, half-eaten plates of food on the table before them.

  Mariah paused, taking a moment to compose herself. She also took that moment to gaze on her beloved’s strong profile. With the angry scar out of view and his face now clean-shaven, a person happening upon the scene would never guess he was a tragic figure who’d suffered a grievous wound in battle.

  Those interminable tears threatened again, but she willed them away and resumed a resolute pace. The last thing Colin wanted or needed was her pity.

  “Good morning,” she singsonged, striding into the room. “Anything especially tasty for breakfast today?”

  Both men abruptly turned toward her.

  “Good morning.
” Mr. Barclay’s cheerful tone matched her own. She wondered if his good humor was as false as hers.

  Colin spoke in the same flat manner he’d adopted since his return. “Glad to hear you’re up before the others. Fill your plate and join us.”

  “Thank you. I’ll do that.” Mariah didn’t realize how hungry she was until the delectable aroma of fresh biscuits and gravy, cold ham, and spiced apples in cream wafted to her nostrils. She selected portions of each and poured herself a cup of tea before taking her place across from Colin. “You look quite rested, Colin.” Raising her cup to her lips, she took a sip.

  “I slept well. And you?”

  “Thank you, yes.” She placed her napkin on her lap and straightened her shoulders. She could play the polite conversation game as well as he. Maybe better. “I enjoy rising early before the business of the day is upon us. I shall be testing the girls on their French lessons this week.” She turned to his father. “By the way, Mr. Barclay, did you not say you had some letters you wanted me to write for you today?”

  “Yes, I did. But—”

  “What my father means,” Colin interrupted, “is that there’s no need for you to spend time on correspondence. You’ll be busy packing for your trip on the morrow.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a sugary-sweet voice, “you must have misunderstood me last evening. I’ve no plans of going anywhere.”

  He spoke more forcefully. “It’s already been decided.”

  At least he was showing more life. But unfortunately for him, he had no idea what he was up against. Mariah directed her attention to his father and held out her left hand, allowing the amethyst to catch the light from the sconces and reflect its full violet radiance amid the sparkling diamonds circling it. “I don’t believe you’ve seen the betrothal ring Colin gave me. Is it not just the prettiest thing?”

  The older man’s shocked expression rivaled his son’s.

  “Mariah.” Colin shook his head. “You know—”

  “What’s that?” Mistress Barclay had entered the room unnoticed. “Did I hear correctly? You’re betrothed to Mariah, Colin?”