Whither Thou Goest (The Graham Saga Book 7)

by Anna Belfrage

  “She left several weeks ago,” Julian said, backing away from Matthew.

  “Left?” Alex repeated. “Just like that? Why would she do that?”

  “She was seeing men on the sly,” Julian said in a condemning tone. “That was not behaviour I could condone, so I punished her for it.”

  “Men?” Alex asked. “She was seeing men as in plural?”

  Julian shuffled on the spot, cleared his throat. “Well, no, but Ruth saw her on two or three occasions with a man. And I can’t have that, can I? How does it reflect on me if my own sister-in-law lacks in modesty? And—”

  “What man?” Matthew interrupted, directing himself to Ruth.

  “We don’t know. I just saw her with him, but I fear she’s been seeing him since June. Unacceptable, isn’t it?” Ruth looked at her father, at Alex, as if hoping to see them nod in agreement.

  “And you didn’t think to ask her nicely about it?” Alex asked. “Before condemning her as a potential harlot?”

  Ruth went an unbecoming deep pink.

  “We were very clear,” Julian said. “Both Ruth and I told her she had to stop seeing him.”

  “People were beginning to talk,” Ruth filled in, “and we were worried.”

  “Very worried.” Julian nodded.

  “Worried about what? Her well-being or your reputation?” Alex said, snorting in disbelief when Ruth opened her eyes very wide and told her that of course it was Sarah they worried about.

  “How did you punish her?” Matthew asked. “What did you do to make her run away?”

  Looks flashed between Ruth and Julian – several looks.

  “I belted her,” Julian said. “No more than a dozen strokes or so.”

  Alex clutched at Matthew, who closed his eyes and drew in one very long breath.

  “You belted a lass who was forced to her knees and raped? Didn’t she fight you?”

  “As a matter of fact, she did,” Julian replied, fingering his lower lip. “Ruth helped me hold her.”

  “What?” Matthew and Alex said in unison.

  Alex sank her eyes into Ruth. “Is this true? You held her while he beat her?”

  Ruth whispered an abject yes.

  Alex closed her fists around an urgent need to slap her daughter, slap her until she screamed. Instead, she wheeled on Julian. “Ruth is too young to know any better,” she said, thereby relegating her daughter back into inane and inconsiderate childhood, “but you, surely you’re experienced enough to temper judgemental thinking with compassion.” His skin flared. He opened his mouth to say something, but Alex turned away from him, from them both. “We have to find horses,” she said to Matthew, “and if we hurry, we’ll be in Graham’s Garden in two and a half days.”

  “She isn’t there,” Ruth whispered. “We don’t know where she is.” And then she burst out crying.

  Alex very much wanted to leave her like that. Stupid, inconsiderate girl – what had she done? Matthew shoved her towards Ruth, and no matter that Alex kept her arms firmly crossed, Ruth clearly saw this as an invitation, throwing herself around Alex’s neck. Alex stood stiffly, incapable of doing more than patting Ruth on her back. Ruth sagged against her, the shiny head burrowed into Alex’s shoulder as she repeated brokenly that she was so sorry, that she hadn’t meant for Sarah to be hurt, that…

  “It’s okay,” Alex lied. “Your father will find her.” She was sick with worry, and when she met Matthew’s eyes, she could see that he was as well, face pale beneath his tan.

  “Aye, of course I will. Have you any idea where she might have gone?”

  “Simon might know,” Julian said. “I saw him ride in but an hour ago.”

  “Simon?” Matthew asked.

  “He’s been looking for her,” Julian explained. “Him and Mark, riding hither and thither for the last weeks.”

  “In your stead?” Matthew said coldly.

  Julian muttered something about not being certain Sarah would be much pleased should he find her.

  “No, probably not, she’d turn and run – totally understandable, if you ask me.” With that parting shot, Alex bid daughter and son-in-law farewell and hurried after Matthew, already hastening off in search of Simon with David and Charlie at his heels

  They found him with his feet in a tub and a tired set to his mouth. Still, he brightened at the sight of them, clasped Matthew’s hand, and waved Alex to sit, telling them both to calm down. After some moments of gawking at Charlie, Simon drily informed him that he was remarkably like his father in looks.

  “Not that I’ll hold it against you,” he added. “Assuming, of course, that you’re less of a viper than he is.” Charlie flushed, eyes going very green. The situation was diffused by Esther, who popped her head in and suggested that Charlie and David accompany her to the kitchen – and the large fish-pie just out of the baking oven.

  Once they were alone, Simon turned the subject to Sarah. Through a huge yawn, he said that he was recently back from St Mary’s City – and a right fine place it was – and that he had news to share.

  “There were two possibilities. Either the man dishonoured her and sold her off down south—” Simon broke off, assuring them that he was sure this was not what had happened.

  “How can you be sure of that?” Matthew demanded.

  “Because I have proof of the other possibility – that he wed her.”

  “Married?” Alex squeaked. “But she’s not even eighteen!”

  Matthew gestured for her to be silent, and motioned for his brother-in-law to continue.

  “I have a business acquaintance in St Mary’s,” Simon said. “Mr Nuthead – a printer.”

  “Nuthead?” Despite everything, Alex had to laugh. “Is that his real name?”

  Assuredly, Simon informed her with a grin, pointing out that this was the first printing establishment in the colony of any note. With Nuthead’s help, Simon had located the two town lawyers, and after several hours of wheedling, had managed to extract the information from one of them that yes, he had drawn up a marriage contract in the past weeks for a Sarah Graham.

  Simon asked Matthew to hand him his satchel, and after some rooting about, extracted a folded document. “A copy of the deed,” he said.

  “Michael Connor?” Alex looked down at the unfamiliar name. “Who the hell is Michael Connor?”

  “Not from here at any rate,” Simon said, raising his hand to hide yet another huge yawn.

  “Nay, it says here how he’s from York County in Virginia.” Matthew looked at Alex. “What was the name of the lad you made eyes at in Jamestown?”

  “I did no such thing!” Alex was swimming in relief at seeing her daughter’s signature on the contract. No abduction, no further humiliation, but an elopement. Quite romantic, in fact, not at all in keeping with Sarah’s hard-nosed take on life, and that made her frown. “I think his name was Michael, but wouldn’t that be quite the coincidence?”

  Simon cleared his throat to indicate he had more to say. “I found the priest.”

  “The priest?” Matthew sounded confused.

  “Aye, the Catholic priest that wed them.”

  “Catholic?” Matthew spluttered. “Has she wed a papist?”

  “Worse than that, I fear,” Simon sighed. “She was baptised a papist before he wed them.”

  The explosion was formidable, and even if Alex could understand that a lot of what Matthew said – no, yelled – was a reaction to the fear he’d felt for his Sarah, she still considered it all a bit overboard.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Matthew,” she finally snapped, “let’s get our priorities right here, shall we? The most important thing is to ensure that she’s okay.”

  “Okay? How can you say such? She has lost her faith!”

  “Don’t be such an idiot! God is still God in whatever guise we pray to him, and by now you’re old enough to know that there are just as many good and deserving Catholics as Presbyterians.”

  Matthew scrubbed at his face and sat down. “Aye
, but it doesn’t help, does it? If you’re a papist, you’re bound for hell everlasting.”

  “Bullshit!” Alex snorted, making Matthew smile – if somewhat crookedly.

  “I don’t think Calvin would agree with you,” he said.

  “Calvin probably never got properly laid in his life,” Alex retorted, “and as a consequence, a lot of what he says is full of testosterone-driven drivel. I bet you he had a crush on a Catholic girl who refused him, and so he set off to do his own little religious thing, and while he was at it got his own back on both Catholics and women.”

  Simon burst out in loud laughter. “Calvin will be very displeased to hear you disparage him so.”

  “See if I care,” Alex muttered. “It’s not as if I’ll ever meet him, is it? As far as I know, he’s dead.” And once she made it up to heaven, she didn’t plan on spending her valuable eternal time conversing with a narrow-minded bigot, but she decided to keep that to herself.

  Chapter 41

  It took Matthew an afternoon to make the necessary arrangements. Kate lent him horses, Simon promised to take care of David, grinning as he ensured he’d keep the lad very busy, and next morning they were ready to go, with Charlie insisting he should accompany them – more, Alex suspected, out of a desire to spend as little time as possible with Simon than any genuine concern for Sarah. Not that Alex felt any need of telling Ruth or Julian their news, but Matthew insisted they deserved to be told, so the trip started with a little detour to Julian’s house.

  “A Catholic?” Julian swayed where he stood. He regarded Alex blankly for some moments before exhaling loudly. “This just proves, doesn’t it, how weak women are spiritually.”

  “You think?” Alex asked.

  “For the sake of a man,” Julian grimaced. “For that, she gives up any hope of salvation.”

  “I would say she ups her odds substantially. After all, as a Catholic, it’s her actions and her penitence that give her a place before God, not some predetermined lottery ticket.”

  Julian’s eyes flashed with reproach. “Shame on you, Alexandra!” he said, and looked to Matthew for support. “You tread dangerously close to heresy at times.”

  “At least I always keep in mind the most important teaching of the Bible,” she said primly.

  “Oh, you do? And what, pray, is that?”

  “Do unto others. Ultimately, Jesus is all about love and compassion.” That struck home, she could see – and now for the coup de grace. “I would have thought a minister would have known that too – Carlos definitely did, for all that he was a Catholic priest.”

  “You’re at times somewhat too straightforward,” Matthew chided once they were on their way. From behind them came the strangled sound of Charlie swallowing back on a gust of laughter.

  “And he’s at times horribly patronising,” Alex said, looking about with interest. They had never ridden from Providence to St Mary’s City before, and the path hugged close to the shores of the bay, bordered by stands of reeds and wild grasses that grew in impressive tufts. Now, well into autumn, it was all a soft dun colour, shifting through browns and greys.

  “Do you think we’ll find her?” Alex asked and nudged the mare she was riding closer to Matthew.

  “Aye,” he replied, “and then…” He swallowed, looked away. “To do this to me, to marry without my consent!”

  Alex made a discreet face. Who cared about his consent? “At least you saved on the dowry.”

  From the look he gave her, Alex deduced this was no help at all, and at his continued sulking, she opted for riding with Charlie instead.

  *

  Matthew was an efficient and tenacious sleuth, and after less than two days in St Mary’s City, he came back to the inn feeling very pleased.

  “I found them. They’re staying on a small plantation just north-west of here.” He studied his wife’s purchases with resignation. Cocoa beans that in his opinion were horribly overpriced – but Alex was overjoyed at having found such, going on and on about chocolate – cinnamon bark, cardamom pods, ginger, nutmeg, and a further assortment of herbs and spices. “Did you not think you could buy this in Providence?” he asked, inspecting the bolts of broadcloth she had also purchased.

  “I had to keep busy while you were out doing your Sherlock Holmes thing. Besides, the apothecary here is excellent.”

  “And Charlie?” Matthew asked.

  Alex winked. “I suspect he’s making up for lost time. Not that I hold with whores but in this specific case, it seems to help. He comes back slightly lighter of mind after each bout in bed.”

  “Different standards?” Matthew inquired. Had it been him setting off to carouse in a whorehouse, she would have flayed him alive.

  “He’s not mine. Not like you or our boys are. Someone else has brought him up, and I don’t think Luke has any moral qualms whatsoever about visiting a whore.”

  “Mmm.” Matthew wondered if Jacob had ever told her of the night in London when Luke had taken him to the best brothel in town. Probably not. “Do you think it’s easier to be a Catholic whore than a Protestant one?”

  “A Catholic?” Alex spluttered. “Why on earth would it be that?”

  “On account of being able to confess and gain absolution for their sinful ways – and I don’t know any Presbyterian whores.”

  “Oh, you don’t? And just out of curiosity, how many whores do you know, Mr Graham?” Her eyes narrowed into shards of angry bright blue.

  Matthew hitched a shoulder. “The lasses at Mrs Malone’s are all Catholic – or Anglican.”

  “Well, that’s a relief for your sensitive male souls, only depraved women in sight. And you didn’t answer my question. ”

  “I know them all by sight, and it happens I talk to them through the evening, buy them a beer.” He grinned at her and backed away. “I may whet my appetite outside, Mrs Graham, but I always eat at home.” Her brush struck him squarely between the eyes. He picked it up and chased her round the bed.

  On the walk out to the plantation, Matthew was sunk in silence, listening with half an ear no more as Alex nattered on about this and that.

  He cast her a look. His wife was nervous, hands smoothing at her skirts, her cap. So was he, uncertain as to what etiquette applied when one cornered the man who had eloped with one’s daughter. A small vociferous part of him was urging for drawn swords while the saner part suggested a calmer approach – mayhap a punch or two, no more. He laughed at himself, making Alex give him a startled look.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He drew in a long, steadying breath. His lass would not take it kindly should he harm the man she had chosen, and given how much she resembled her mother, Matthew decided the prudent approach would be to clasp his hands behind his back and adopt a benign, if somewhat displeased, countenance.

  “There.” Alex laid a restraining hand on Matthew’s sleeve. They were just on the edge of a small stand of wind-battered trees, and to their left, a little creek flowed sluggishly towards the bay.

  It was a bright, blustery autumn day, the air filled with golden and red leaves that floated haphazardly this way and that. The meadow before them was dotted with grazing cows and the odd horse, and in the midst of all this was Sarah. Her head was thrown back, and she was laughing, a bubbling sound that he hadn’t heard for well over a year.

  The man with his head in her lap said something more, and Sarah bent her face towards him. A hand floated up, a finger traced her ear, and drifted slowly down her cheek, and the tenderness in the gesture made his wife turn towards him with a teary smile.

  “She’s happy,” she whispered.

  Matthew took off his hat and strode out into the sunlit meadow, sinking down to his ankles in the muddy ground.

  His lass: she was laughing and smiling, said something to her man that was cut off when she saw him, squelching towards them. Sarah’s mouth fell open, she scrambled to her feet, and her man – his son-in-law – stood up as well. Matthew’s chest tightened with pride at
the sight of his bonny lass – pride and loss, because she was no longer exclusively his, not anymore.

  Without a word, he opened his arms, and Sarah flung herself at him, her cap flying off behind her. Matthew grunted when she collided with him, but managed to steady them both and stood holding her to his heart while over her head he locked eyes with the interloper, the man who had stolen his daughter away without his say-so. He had been right: it was the young man from Jamestown.

  Connor bent down to retrieve Sarah’s cap, and came forward slowly. Sarah disengaged herself from Matthew’s arms, and went to stand beside her husband.

  “Your cap, wife,” Connor said, and she blushed and covered her head. Connor’s arm came round Sarah’s waist, drawing her very close to him. His chin went up, his eyes met Matthew’s, and in absolute silence they stared each other down.

  “Men!” Alex said from where she was coming towards them. She glared at Matthew. “You could have helped me, instead of just barging off!” She raised her muddied hem at him. “Not all of us have boots.” She swept by him, and to his annoyance kissed not only their daughter but also a most surprised Michael Connor.

  “That was very irresponsible of you,” she admonished. “You’ve had both Julian and Simon in a total fit trying to find you.”

  “I didn’t want them to, and as to Julian…” Sarah’s eyes darkened.

  “Hmm, yes. And now I hear you’ve converted as well?” Alex sounded entirely unconcerned, as if this was but a minor matter. Matthew muffled a groan, and Sarah gave him a wary look.

  “Aye,” she said, sounding defiant. “My husband wished it so.”

  Her husband wished it so…it near on made Matthew choke. His lass, a lost soul. Silently, he prayed, begging the dear Lord not to be too harsh on her. He stood to the side as his wife conversed with their daughter and new son-in-law, asking them about everything from how they got here to what the wedding had been like. Not, Matthew knew, out of any true interest, but more to give him time to collect himself. Now and then, her eyes flashed to his, a concerned wrinkle on her brow at his continued immobility, his silence.