by Cheryl Bolen
James thought she had never looked more beautiful than she did, standing there in a simple cotton lavender dress, her gloves black and her eyes warm. As she brushed a stray lock of raven hair from her brow, a streak of black left its mark on her milky skin.
And she was without a doubt the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
When he finished, he came to stand beside her. “How is it you're better understanding the collier's speech?”
“Peggy and I are learning the dialect from Jeremy.”
“Ah . . . Tell me, are Peggy and Jeremy . . .?”
She shrugged. “Not yet. I learned from the upper groom that a local girl snared Jeremy's affections before he met Peggy. I suppose we'll just have to wait to see which one Jeremy will finally choose.”
“The poor local girl doesn't have a prayer if my wife has anything to say about it.”
“Would that I could cast spells,” she lamented, her eyes narrowed in jest.
He broke out laughing.
Carlotta turned to address the nurse. “Please, Miss Kenworth, prepare a plate for Mr. Fordyce and yourself now. All the miners have been served.”
James saw that Carlotta watched Miss Kenworth and Fordyce walk some little distance away and sit down to eat with each other.
He also noticed that no matter what Carlotta was doing, she never had Stevie far from her vision. No doubt, she feared he would wander into the pits she had so strong an aversion to.
He was proud that even though the lad's nurse was present, Carlotta refused to be complacent about her child's safety. She had become a fine mother, at last.
A tightness clamped his chest as he thought of her mothering a child of their own. A child that quite possibly could already have been conceived. He could shout his happiness from the top of the hills.
He listened as an affable collier—Douglas Covington—told Carlotta about his wife and children.
Enjoy these days while ye can,” Douglas told Carlotta, “for once those babes begin to come, ye'll have no time for anything. I should know. Me blessed wife just presented me with our ninth child, and me poor wife never has an idle moment.”
“It sounds to me your wife is blessed,” Carlotta said. “Is the new babe a boy or girl?”
Douglas's teeth looked exceptionally white against his black skin when he smiled. “Ah! Another fine lad.”
“I shall have to go see the babe,” Carlotta said.
James had never been more proud in his life.
Chapter 22
The following day Carlotta and Stevie rode over the moors to the cottage of Douglas Covington's family. The white house sat some little distance up on the heath above a brook. Next to the house lay a small vegetable garden, and a cow grazed just off in the distance.
Carlotta grew unaccountably nervous as she dismounted, took her son's hand and walked up a muddy lane to the house. 'Twas a good thing the door was painted a dark brown to better hide the sooty handprints, she thought as she knocked on it.
A woman near Carlotta's own age who had rosy cheeks and dull, unkept brown hair answered the door.
“Mrs. Covington?” Carlotta asked.
“Ah, my lady, please to come in.”
So Carlotta's visit was not unannounced. Still clutching Stevie's hand, Carlotta stepped into the parlor that had obviously been tidied in preparation for her visit.
A newborn babe lay in a handmade wooden cradle near the hearth.
“May I see the babe?” Carlotta asked.
A smile came over the woman's face. “Me Dooglas said as ye were keen to see the babe, but I'll tell ye, he's a runt. Smallest babe I've ever had. Me and Dooglas have been a tad worried about him.”
Carlotta moved to the cradle and bent over it, cooing to the sleeping babe. She glanced up at Mrs. Covington. “May I pick him up?”
“Please do. He never cries when he's being coddled. Ye can sit in that chair near the fire, if ye like.”
Carlotta lifted the little bundle who seemed to weigh no more than her pillow. In fact, she remembered wistfully, the babe was the same size Stevie was when they had sailed from Portugal back to England. Stevie had been small, too. She wistfully remembered that Stephen had been worried over the small size of their infant son.
Carlotta held the infant to her breast, and a warmth rushed over her. A pity she had been so afraid of her own son on that long-ago sailing. But in her heavy bereavement and weak physical state so close on the heels of her confinement, she understood now how difficult her nineteenth year had been. Pray that all her miseries were behind her.
Stevie, biting his nail, edged up to her and poked his face near the babe's. “What's his name?” Stevie asked.
Carlotta looked toward the mother.
“Daniel.”
“He's so little,” Stevie remarked, unable to remove his eyes from the infant.
“You were this tiny once,” Carlotta said. Then she looked at Mrs. Covington. “You've nothing to worry about. Little Daniel seems perfectly healthy. I dare say your other children were just exceptionally large babes.”
“Ah, that they were.”
“Stevie,” Carlotta said, “Give Mrs. Covington the present we brought for the babe.”
With pride, Stevie presented the woman with knitted booties and mittens.
Mrs. Covington's hazel eyes brightened. “'Tis the first new thing the babe's received. Poor tot, has to wear his brothers' and sisters' hand-me-downs.”
“How many brothers does he have?” Stevie asked, his glance flitting to several children scattered throughout the gray room. Carlotta's gaze swept over the assembled children, and she was surprised they were all blond. She had been unable to determine the color of their father's soot-covered hair the day before.
“We've got seven boys and two girls,” Mrs. Covington said.
Stevie's eyes rounded. “Seven brothers! I wish I had seven brothers.”
“Allow me to present me lads to ye,” Mrs. Covington said, taking hold of Stevie's hand and turning toward her brood.
An amused grin on her face, Carlotta watched the children and could not determine who was the shyest, Stevie or the Covington children.
“'Tis a pretty day to be out of doors,” Mrs. Covington said. “Why do you not take Master Stevie and show him our newborn lamb?”
A thin little girl who appeared to be twice Stevie's age came and took his hand. “Should ye like to see the baby lamb?” she asked as if she were speaking to a toddler.
His eyes wide, Stevie nodded happily.
The room suddenly cleared, except for the two women and the babe.
“Please sit near me so we can talk,” Carlotta said to her hostess.
Mrs. Covington pulled a wooden chair up next to Carlotta.
“You are blessed to have so many children,” Carlotta said. “And all of them in such fine good health.”
The woman grew solemn. “We lost our last babe, a little girl, and it liked to have killed me Dooglas.”
“Nothing could be more painful than losing a child,” Carlotta said softly. “I'm very sorry for you both.”
“I had to be strong for Dooglas and the other children. I think me greatest fear was that I'd lose the others next. I had nightmares not about my little lost Mary but about her brothers and sisters following her to the grave. It was a most difficult time. Then I learned I was increasing with Daniel, and it seemed to help Dooglas and me both. Ye met me Dooglas, did ye not?” The woman's tired face brightened.
“Indeed I did. He's very proud of his family.”
Mrs. Covington smiled. “He's a fine man. As fine a husband and father as ever there was. I've loved him all me life. There was never anyone else for me.”
“How old were you when you pledged yourself to Mr. Covington?”
She thought for a moment before she answered. “I was fourteen. He was sixteen. We married three years later. Me Dooglas wanted to build the cottage before we got married.”
Carlotta glanced around the room. �
��Your husband began to build this when he was but sixteen years of age?” Her own brother—and her husband—had been mere schoolboys when they were sixteen.
Mrs. Covington nodded proudly. “Of course, he had five brothers of his own to help.”
“How old was your husband when he began to work in the mines?”
“Eleven.”
Carlotta's eyes narrowed. “And your eldest child now is . . .?”
“That'd be Sally. She's the one what took yer boy's hand. She's eleven.”
“You'd be willing to let your boys go down into the mines when they're still lads?”
Mrs. Covington shrugged. “What else is there for them? I wish they didn't have to. I wish me Dooglas didn't have to. If anything ever happened to him . . .” Mrs. Covington's eyes moistened.
James would be furious with Carlotta if she went poisoning people's minds against children working in the mines. It was a matter upon which she and her husband were not in accord. At the present, she would not say anything to Mrs. Covington because she meant to work with James, not against him. But she must sway her husband. There had to be something else in Exmoor for young boys to do. She would discuss the matter with James.
Mrs. Covington brushed away a tear. “If I'd had more notice of yer visit, I'd have procured some tea to serve ye, me lady. Could I offer ye a glass of fresh milk?”
Carlotta shook her head. “Thank you, no.” Carlotta had decided to come here the very day after speaking to Mr. Covington to prevent them from rushing out and buying costly tea. Carlotta well remembered going without her tea many a time because its price was too dear and her money too scarce.
She glanced down at the warm bundle she held. Little Daniel slept contentedly. She had forgotten babies' little fingers were not much bigger around than a piece of yarn.
“You and Lord Rutledge will be a startin' a family soon now.”
Carlotta's stomach fluttered as she remembered James so thoroughly making love to her the night before. She had not recently given thought to bearing James's babe. Now that she did, something deep and fulfilling stirred within her. “It's my fondest wish,” Carlotta said. And she truly meant it.
While Carlotta and Mrs. Covington talked, Carlotta perused the parlor, where a large metal bathing tub was placed a few feet away from the fire. With Douglas Covington covered with black soot, Carlotta was certain the tub was a necessity. A pity it was not used every day. And a pity the room was so dreary, with the color of graphite everywhere.
The babe, his little eyes still slitted shut, began to make feeble sputtering noises.
“He'll be a wantin' to eat,” his mother said, reaching for him.
Carlotta stood up and handed him to Mrs. Covington, then said her farewells so the mother could nurse in private.
Outside, Stevie was reluctant to leave. “Can my new friends come play with me some day?” he asked his mother.
“Any time they like,” Carlotta said cheerfully. Directing her attention at the tallest of the boys, she said, “Do you know where Yarmouth Hall is?”
“Aye,” the boy said.
“Please come,” Carlotta said. Then she and Stevie untethered their mounts and left.
* * *
“And what did you do today, my dear?” James asked his wife over the dinner table that night.
“Stevie and I went to the Covington's cottage.”
James's eyes rounded. “Douglas Covington's?”
Carlotta nodded as she spooned peas onto her plate.
“What for?”
“I wanted to take a gift to their new babe. He's ever so precious.” She held her hands parallel, a little over a foot apart. “He's only this long and does nothing but sleep.” Her voice softened, and a wistful look came over her face when she spoke of the babe.
James's chest tightened as he imagined how she would be with a babe of their own, and he was suffused with a deep contentment. During these past several days he had surged with pride over his beloved Carlotta. Not only had she been a passionate lover, but she had also warmed to her duties as the Countess of Rutledge. He could not have selected a finer bride.
A pity she did not love him. Since she had so thoroughly given herself to him, he had fought both his urge to proclaim his love and his powerful need to spend more time with her. He had to remind himself his plan would not be successful until Carlotta voiced her love for him. Then he could allow himself the pleasure of wrapping her in his love. But not until her love was secured.
Even if Carlotta still did not love him, James had never been happier. She had done such an astounding turn-around, he felt her love creeping closer every day. Before the long days of summer arrived he expected to own her heart.
“And what gift did you bring the babe?” he asked.
“Mittens and booties I knitted myself.”
“But surely you only found out about the babe yesterday.”
She nodded. “But before that I had decided I would begin knitting baby items for new children of your employees as they come into the world. I began the ones I gave to Daniel Covington the day before yesterday.”
He set his hand on hers. “Thank you for being so fine a countess.”
She rolled her eyes. “You forget I have a daunting example to follow in the earl who happens to be my husband.”
So she admired him. They were getting close. Very close. “And how did you find the Covington's cottage?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Quite filthy looking—from the coal. I really don't know how those people can stand it. They keep a bathing tub in their front parlor.”
He chuckled. “And how did Stevie find the Covington children?”
“He had a wonderful time playing outdoors with them. I declare, I was afraid he would not understand their speech, but apparently he had no difficulty.”
“He's with Jeremy every day. I dare say he's becoming accustomed to it.”
“He wants the Covington children to come to Yarmouth,” she said.
“I hope they do. Their father's a fine man.”
“That's what Mrs. Covington told me. After all this time and all the squalor, she's still quite madly in love with him.” She took a sip of wine. “Did you know that Douglas Covington began working in the mines when he was but eleven years old?”
“Many of the colliers do.”
Her brows lowered with concern, Carlotta met his gaze. “It's wrong, James. They're still but children.”
“I know very well your views on the subject, and quite frankly, I agree with you. But I've only been here a year, and I don't mean to make enemies by eliminating a practice that's gone on here for generations. Many of the lads who work the mines have no fathers, and their mothers depend on the income they bring home.”
“Surely they can do something else beside work in those dangerous pits!”
He stroked her arm and spoke in a low voice. “I'm doing everything I can to make the pits safe.”
“James?”
He set down his wine glass, lifting a brow.
“Even if the lads weren't working in mines, I should not be satisfied. I abhor the idea of eleven-year-olds having to earn a living. They're still children!”
“I know, but they're ignorant. It's not as if they could go to school like those of our class.”
Carlotta set down her fork. “They're ignorant because they've never been given the opportunity to learn to read and write. Literature and the reading of history open up a whole world, a world they'll never know. All they'll ever know is living off the land, either above the ground or below it. It's really quite sad.”
He frowned. “I read an essay in the Edinburgh Review that actually proposed universal education to be paid for by the government.”
“As favorable as I would be to such a plan, I cannot see how it could ever work. There are children in sparsely populated areas where it would not be economically feasible to initiate such a program, and the costs to initiate compulsory education anywhere would have to be so stagg
ering as to make it completely unfeasible.”
“I dare say it could work in London, but as you said, the cost would be prohibitively staggering.”
“A pity.”
The footmen cleared the plates and bowls from the table, then removed the cloth in order to serve sweetmeats.
“You know, James, why could we not start a school just for the children of Exmoor? You've told me many times you're very rich.”
“As much as I would like to, my dear, I assure you the people of Exmoor would be vehemently opposed to such a maneuver. Their children are a great deal of help to them raising sheep and milking the cows and churning the butter and any number of jobs. The men in these parts consider themselves well blessed to have a large family to help with the farming chores.”
“Does it not occur to them how much more work a woman has for each additional child?”
He gave her a somber look. “You object to large families?”
“I would love to have a large family, but I have a small army of servants. I was thinking of women like Mrs. Covington, who has no servant to help her.”
Carlotta would love a large family! Her words had made him happy indeed. Even more satisfying was the change that had occurred in her in the last few months. He doubted the Carlotta he had met at Mrs. McKay's lodgings would ever have wanted a large family. She had not even wanted the one child she had borne.
That night he went to Carlotta's room again, and it was all he could do during their heated, thoroughly satisfying, lovemaking not to tell her how completely he loved her.
Chapter 23
Each morning when Carlotta awoke she hoped to find her husband beside her, but each morning he would be gone, and with disappointment she would realize he had left her during the night. 'Twas as if he did not wish to be truly married to her, that she satisfied him only on a physical level.
She had been trying to make him a fine wife, not just to win his affection—though she sorely wanted that—but because she wanted to do what was right. After all, her husband's own actions served as a model to emulate. He was the finest man she had ever known. Only by performing acts of kindness and by striving to be a finer person could she ever hope to be worthy to call herself his wife.
