Mara: A Georgian Romance

by Barbara T. Cerny

  The portrait had been painted in the ballroom at Stafford House. Mara had spent hours sitting for it. She left the dress behind on purpose, to let the duke keep something of his precious Butterfly. Jake loved looking at the portrait, and had it hanging on the largest wall in the parlor.

  The duke’s portrait was in the crate.

  After laughing at the name of the county where they would live, Jake remembered the portrait.

  “Too bad we have to carry Adair with us. Maybe we can hang him in the barn on the new farm.”

  Cecilia shook her head. “I think we need to sell the canvas to a poor artist, who could re-use it, and then sell the frame separately. That frame is probably worth hundreds of dollars alone. We can’t just let it hang in a barn!”

  “I just wish it were a portrait of you instead, Jake. That would please me the most.”

  Pete stared at Mara. “Why not? If you are gonna sell the canvas anyway, have the artist paint a picture of Jake over it. Then you can have a matched set again.”

  Mara hugged Pete. “You are a genius! Of course!”

  *****

  The new portrait wasn’t perfect; the body was a bit short and the hands were wrong, but the painter did a fine job of painting Jake over the duke. Instead of starting from scratch, the portrait artist, a talented man named Gilbert Stuart, suggested he use what was already there and replace the man in the painting with Jake. Change heads, but keep the body, narrowing it for the much leaner Jake. Mr. Stuart left the background untouched, so that it matched the style of the other portrait.

  The process enthralled Jake who happily spent many hours sitting for the man.

  In the end, Stuart signed his name on the opposite side from the original painter, and they all laughed at how art critics of the future would wonder about the two signatures.

  Now not-quite-right Jake hung in his proper place in the parlor next to Madame Butterfly.

  *****

  Luke and Pete decided to find jobs in the city. They had skills they didn’t want to lose, and each found work in his respective field.

  The two craftsmen had carried the paperwork of journeymen from their old posts, and were accepted with ease into their new ones. The young men now had enough money to buy good tools and equipment, and were becoming well established in their new lives. If they had planned to stay in New York City, they would have bought storefronts and set up their own businesses. But for now, they were content just doing what they knew how to do best—smithy and cobble.

  Cecilia and Mara kept house while Jake handled most of the errands for the trip out west. He took Mara along when he thought her business acumen would be helpful.

  *****

  They found several shops around town that would either buy the wedding gifts outright or sell them on consignment. The sold items they knew would have no worth on the breeding farm or were too heavy to carry. Members of the burgeoning middle- and upper-middle classes in New York City were hungry for items from England, including high-quality jewels and household items to make them look moneyed.

  They sold the heavy silver service, a huge crystal punch bowl, eight paintings by various artists, large silver serving platters, two sets of porcelain dishes, fragile crystal goblets, snuff boxes, vases, figurines, and all manner of wedding gifts that would be out of place in the wilds of America.

  The money rolled in, and the apartment emptied out. Alvin’s idea to take the wedding gifts proved highly profitable, as did the jewels they still sold a few at a time over the course of the fall and winter.

  *****

  The ladies needed to learn to cook. The men were patient and non-complaining, but both women knew their fare was barely worth serving and eating. Neither had much experience in the kitchen, so Jake finally hired an Irish maiden away from a local tavern. Deirdre O’Shea was a black-haired, blue-eyed, feisty little wench with a perky attitude and a flirty nature who was a darn good cook. She had grown up on a farm in Ireland, and knew hundreds of things the group would need to know.

  She moved in with Cecilia, and the two became fast friends.

  Deirdre took Cecilia and Mara to the markets in the morning, and showed them how to pick the best fruits and vegetables, and determine the freshness of fish and meat. She showed them what kinds of flour and yeast were needed for different kinds of breads and sweets. She showed them how to can their own food and store dry goods properly. Deirdre was a godsend. They all started eating well once more. The men were grateful that Deirdre had saved them from starvation.

  And Luke fell in love. Deirdre wasn’t sure if she wanted to be courted by a man who was four years her junior, and she led him on a merry chase. But to Luke, the chase was the best part.

  Deirdre had to admit, small in stature though he was, Lucas Holloway could be quite charming.

  *****

  At ten o’clock Tuesday morning, Mara and Jake arrived at Thomas’ Land and Title with a bank draft for $13,000. They had stopped at Mr. Cavendish’s a few days earlier to ask how loans and interest worked. They decided they’d pay in cash for the land—less of a paper trail for someone to follow. They would give Mr. Thomas the down payment now, and pay the rest in small amounts each week over the winter until they had covered the entire amount.

  Mr. Thomas was delighted to see his two young and wealthy clients again.

  “I have found the perfect spot for your breeding farm!” he exclaimed.

  He already had the map out on the counter with some official-looking papers and a certificate. “Located here in Adair County bordering Green River is a section, or several sections actually, that make up 10,240 acres.”

  He was very excited as he described the land to them. “You have another creek, yet unnamed, running through the property that empties into the Green River here. This is all virgin forest, spotted with several areas of grassland. Right here is a high ridgeline that runs the length of the southern edge. It is a distinctive feature, and will be a beautiful addition to your landscape.” His smile covered his face from side to side.

  Mara clapped her hands in excitement. Thomas continued. “Here are the other four properties, each 1,208 acres. These two border either side of the same unnamed creek; the other two border the Green River. Your property runs between them here and here, as well as bordering them to the south.”

  He paused. “I have the paperwork here. Do you have the down payment?”

  In no time at all, papers and money changed hands, and Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Abbot owned a horse farm in the young state of Kentucky. Alvin, Luke, Pete, and Cecilia each owned two square miles, to do with as they pleased.

  *****

  America was still a wild and untamed country, and they were going to have to cross over 850 miles of it to reach Adair County. It would take them forty-five to sixty days. Mr. Cavendish suggested they learn how to use pistols, rifles, and rapiers, and arm themselves appropriately.

  Luke turned out to be a crack shot with both the pistol and rifle, and took to them as if he had been born with a gun in his hand. The fine motor skills he had developed as a cobbler gave him just the right touch on the trigger for near perfect accuracy. His ability to load a weapon in record speed impressed them all.

  Jake and Pete turned out to be pretty good shots, Mara competent, and Cecilia awful. They teased her that she would end up shooting herself before she shot an Indian or highway robber. But at least she could use a pistol if she had to. She refused to try the rifle after her dismal performance on the pistol.

  Swordplay was another matter altogether. Swords were used less frequently, as firearms were quickly becoming the weapon of choice. But since many pistols were still hard to handle, hard to load, and hard to fire accurately, a sword could still come in handy. Rapid footwork was key to good swordplay, and Mara outmaneuvered them all.

  They practiced, using dull swords with no points, wearing padded vests. When it came to brute strength, Pete, of course, could best any of them. But he had to catch them first. And he rarely caught Mara wh
o could run, dart, turn, leap, and roll, much to the delight of their coach, Monsieur Evan Guempes. He was enchanted by the young woman in man’s pants who could run like the wind, leap like a tiger, and had boundless energy.

  “Mon cheri! You have bested him again. You are not a proper lady. You are a man in disguise, I know this!” Monsieur Guempes teased.

  Mara had just leapt over a chair and then a low bench to come at Pete from behind and poke him in the back. Pete was panting heavily, his muscle-bound blacksmith’s body unable to outperform Mara’s sleek athletic form.

  “Gads, I sometimes wish you were still fat! I’d best you then, wench!”

  Mara giggled and stuck him again for good measure.

  “No, she is definitely a woman. I can surely attest to that,” Jake’s voice came from the other side of the room, where he was trying to make Cecilia pay attention and keep her sword up.

  They all laughed heartily.

  Jake gave up on Cecilia and came over to Mara. He put up his sword and pointed it at her. “En garde, mon petit chou chou!” Mara rolled her eyes. His French pronunciation was appalling, and for some reason he loved calling her “his little cabbage.” She’d show him! Mara came around from behind Pete and lifted her sword in contest. The others sat down on the benches along the walls and watched in anticipation.

  The man and wife lunged and parried for a couple of moments, feeling each other out. All that could be heard was the clink of steel on steel, the footfalls of the two combatants, and their labored breathing as they concentrated on their task.

  Jake was stronger, his arms longer, his reach further. But Mara had audacity and speed on her side. She had to use two hands much of the time, as her arms did not have the strength required for a sword. She often wondered how Joan of Arc had been so skillful with a sword so many centuries ago!

  Jake slowly backed her into a corner, and she knew her arms would tire and he’d have her. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a large table, one of the many props left in the training room to teach people how to use the world around them in a sporting match.

  She stopped her defense, tucked her sword into her chest and rolled gracefully under the table coming up on the other side. Before Jake could react, she was on top of the table, now in a superior position.

  Jake simply moved away from the table and leaned on the blunt tip of his training sword. She’d have to come down to play. He flashed his crooked smile, and motioned to her with his index finger to come down and fight.

  “Fine!” She jumped off the table and came at him again, once more in the open.

  As they performed their lunges and parries, Jake caught her sword with his and twisted it from her hand. It skidded under a bench. Mara was trapped. Jake dropped his own sword, and growled. Mara growled back, and they both crouched as they had so many times since childhood, in playful hand-to-hand combat.

  The rest of the party watched in amusement as Jake grabbed her up in his arms and wrestled her to the floor, then into a full lip lock, both of them spread eagle on the ground.

  “Mes amours!” exclaimed Monsieur Guempes. “I know you two are very much in love, but this I cannot have! A Frenchman cannot allow such behavior!” He smiled broadly, however.

  “Poppycock, you old fool,” chortled Cecilia. “I thought the French invented the kiss!”

  “Oui, Oui, Madame. But if we let this kiss continue, I believe we will have more than a show of swordplay on the floor today. Mon dieu!”

  Jake pulled Mara up off the floor. The two shared a brief laugh, and then concentrated once again on their swordplay.

  Chapter 48

  The letter arrived from Luke and Pete in late November, having crossed the ocean on a ship of supplies from the Americas.

  Alvin had never received mail before, so the entire staff was very excited for him.

  There in Pete’s loopy, childish handwriting was a five-page tale of their trip across the Atlantic. Everyone gathered around in the kitchen as Alvin read it out loud.

  They laughed at the two friends’ silly adventures on the ship, moving through immigration, and their first days on American soil. They had met a man named Cavendish at the Turkey Shoot Tavern on Duane Street. Cavendish lived next door to the tavern, and had helped them find jobs. They were happy, established, and wanted Alvin and Jake to join them. As they noted in the letter, now that Mara was married to the duke, there was no reason they shouldn’t.

  The staff quieted down when Alvin read the part about him and Jake joining the two adventurers. Five months had passed, but the pain of Jake and Cecilia’s deaths and Mara’s kidnapping was still with them all. Tears welled up in the women’s eyes. Of course, they believed Pete and Luke knew nothing of these events. They had left long before the aborted wedding and the two murders.

  Alvin silently folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. He stood up.

  “I am going to join them. I have to tell them about Jake and Mara, and I canna do it in a letter. There is nothing holding me here, and my best friends are half a world away. I have to go. I canna stay here.”

  Jesse stepped over to the young lad, and put her arms around him to comfort him. “Of course, you have to leave. We understand completely.”

  Alvin sighed in relief. He was almost free. All he had to do was find Mr. Cavendish on Duane Street next to the Turkey Shoot Tavern, and he would know how to join the others.

  *****

  The final letter arrived the night of the Masque. Like the others, it was delivered by a young boy. He ran up to one of the staff who was helping people exit from the carriages. The staff member gave it to the major domo, who gave it to a footman, who tracked down the Markhams. Lady Maureen broke down and cried when she saw the envelope addressed to them in her daughter’s handwriting. It had all started a year ago at this very place, and the emotions of the past months ripped through her chest.

  Dear Mother and Father,

  I have bittersweet news to share. You are to be grandparents. It is sweet in the fact that I have always wanted children, but bitter because I still do not love the child’s father. He is a kidnapper and complicit in the murders of two people I loved dearly.

  I am still resistant to my fate in life, having to spend the rest of my days a prisoner raising Lord Hateful’s children. When Lord Vile Creature is in his grave, I will be able to leave again, but by then no one will care or remember me. I only hope I can love his children, and that none of my contempt for their father will ever be known to them.

  I write this with a heavy hand, as it is the last letter I am allowed to send you. Lord Phantom says enough is enough—you know I am safe and loved (so he says!), and taken care of. He is afraid my letters may one day reveal information that will put him in danger.

  Goodbye forever, my dear, dear family. Goodbye.

  Your dedicated daughter,

  Mara

  Below Mara’s signature was another message, written by a different hand.

  Thank you for sharing your beautiful daughter with me. Mara has brought this old house lots of joy and graciousness. She will be a superb mother, if her skills with the servants and their children are any indication. I am proud to have her for my wife. I wish I could tell you my sentiments in person but, for obvious reasons, letter writing will have to do. Know that I will keep her safe and secure for the rest of her days. And she will come to love me over time. I deeply regret the deaths of the two servants, as my orders were that no one should be harmed. The two hoodlums were dealt with appropriately.

  I will repeat my lovely Madame Butterfly’s last goodbye—forever.

  Sincerely,

  Lord Phantom

  Lord Phantom certainly had impeccable timing. The arrival of this last communiqué at the Masque, where the duke had first found Mara, re-ignited the gossip about Madame Butterfly, the aborted wedding, the kidnapping, and the jewelry heist once again.

  Alvin had delivered his last note, and would book passage on the Charleston in the spring to join
the rest of the group in America. It was done. His time to leave arrived at last.

  Chapter 49

  Jake went to Kenny Maher’s to look at building plans and gather information about how to buy materials, ship them, and construct a house and stables on their land in Kentucky.

  After looking at many drawings, Jake decided on one he thought Mara would like in the Federal style, by an American architect named Charles Bulfinch. Kenny said the style would easily allow additional wings to be added as the family and fortunes grew.

  Kenny explained how they would arrange to have the house built so far away from the city. “First, one of my clerks will meticulously copy this architectural drawing for you to take with you. We will manufacture the materials, except bricks, here in New York, and then ship them via wagon train to Kentucky. Best if they go on the same wagon train as you. To make it worth the trip back for my men and wagons, we will want to fill the wagons with timber from your land. You’ll need to clear a space for the house anyway; we will haul the finer logs back here and mill them for the next customer.”

  Jake nodded his assent. It made sense to him, and what would he do with all those felled trees anyway?

  “What about bricks? You said we will take everything with us, except bricks.”

  “They are much too heavy to haul, so you will need to make them when you arrive. Most river beds will have appropriate clay. My men will help you find materials, and show you how to make bricks. You can buy molds from me. The kiln you will have to make on the site.”