Shadows of Love

by Gail MacMillan

  ****

  The previous night, darkness and inebriation had prevented my taking in the amazing ambiance of my new home. When we emerged from Colin’s room that morning, I was astounded by the opulence of my surroundings. I found myself amid richly embossed wall coverings, thick Persian carpets, gleaming mahogany wood paneling, and shimmering crystal chandeliers.

  Several maids were engaged in polishing and cleaning the bedrooms and upper corridor. For each, Colin had a word and a smile. They responded with dropped curtsies, blushes, and, in some cases, shy giggles.

  One, in particular, caught my notice. Beautiful, shapely, and bright-eyed, she responded to my husband’s greeting with a vivacious but still properly respectful reply I found charming.

  “Marie, this is my wife, Starr.” Colin paused to make an introduction. “Be her friend…please.”

  “Of course, monsieur.” She bobbed a curtsy. “It will be my pleasure.”

  We went down the wide, curving staircase. Colin led me past several closed doors until we came to an open one toward the rear of the house.

  When he drew me inside, the gleam of silver and polished crystal and china glistening in the June sunlight on the big mahogany table struck my eyes with the force of a sunbeam. I blinked in the sudden glare. Then, as my eyes adjusted to the sun-drenched dining room, I saw them seated about the table. My new family.

  “Come in, come in.” Beaming, Colin’s father got to his feet at his place at the head of the table and gestured to us with alacrity. “This is Colin’s family, my dear.”

  Two women, one elderly, the other young, and a man sat at the table. I tried to force a smile, but as my gaze fell on the latter my whole being froze. The handsome, well-dressed gentleman on my father-in-law’s right hand was the doctor who had examined me aboard the Stella Maris. Startled, I lost track of the conversation and had to struggle to regain its flow.

  “This is my wife, Starr,” Colin was saying as he eased me into a chair. “I hope you will all help me to welcome her into our family. Starr, meet my brother Randall, my sister-in-law Caroline, and my grandmother Ida Douglas, whom we all call Gram. My father Abraham”—he hesitated before continuing—“you’ve already met.”

  “Welcome.” Randall Douglas was the first to respond to Colin’s introduction. He arose and came around the table to place his hands on my shoulders, stoop, and bestow a kiss on my cheek. Again, I smelled liquor on his breath.

  As he paused before straightening up, he winked conspiratorially. I almost sighed aloud in relief. He wasn’t going to betray me, at least not now.

  “Careful, darling.” His wife looked across at us, her beautiful violet eyes narrowing. “She’s Colin’s wife, remember.”

  “Never fear, my love.” Randall turned away from me with a weary sigh. “You give me scant opportunity to forget my circumstance.”

  He returned to his place, his shoulders drooping beneath his fine coat. Caroline Douglas stuck out her chin. Raven-haired and breathtakingly beautiful, Colin’s sister-in-law wore a soft summer gown of pale yellow, pearl eardrops presenting a perfect contrast against her dark curls. Beside her I must appear exactly what I was…a dowdy little scullery maid. I smoothed my threadbare skirts and tried not to let feelings of inferiority overwhelm me.

  “So you’re married, Colin,” she continued, stirring her coffee daintily as she smirked at my husband. “I trust you weren’t forced to wed in haste lest a bundle from heaven arrive before its proper time.”

  “That will do, miss!”

  The gaunt little old woman introduced as Ida Douglas spoke for the first time. Surprised at her vehemence, I turned to look at her. Although she appeared frail and ancient in her black gown, a thatch of unruly white curls escaping from beneath her cap, Colin’s grandmother’s eyes revealed a personality far from delicate or spent beneath the matronly façade. Charcoal, nearly black, they snapped and flashed with vitality and, at the moment, anger. Clutching a gold-headed cane, she arose and started toward the door. She paused beside me and looked me over critically.

  “I want to see you in my room after you’ve eaten, young woman,” she said when she’d finished her perusal. “Have one of the servants bring you to me.”

  “Yes, mum,” I murmured, and caught myself bobbing a curtsy. She stumped out, her cane thumping over the thick carpets. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Caroline Douglas purse her lips.

  “Come, children.” Abraham stood and beckoned to Randall and Caroline. “Let us leave the newlyweds alone. I’m sure they’ll not miss our company this morning.”

  As he followed his son and daughter-in-law from the room, he paused behind Colin’s chair and slapped a big, affectionate hand on my husband’s shoulder. “Eat hearty, boy. You’ll be needing all your strength in the next few days…and nights.”

  “Papa, in God’s name…”

  With a boisterous laugh, Abraham Douglas left the room, closing the door after him.

  “I’m sorry,” Colin avoided looking at me. “Please don’t let my father’s crudeness distress you. I’ll get you some ham and eggs. The cinnamon buns are particularly good. You must have some. And coffee. Or perhaps tea?”

  He stood and went to a heavily laden sideboard.

  “Just coffee and a bun, please,” I admonished. “My head and stomach are still a mite uncertain.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to grin at me. “Mine, too. Coffee and buns all around, then. Tomorrow morning we’ll attack the ham and eggs.”

  ****

  “More coffee, Mrs. Douglas?” Colin picked up the silver pot and smiled at me when we’d finished eating. It was the first time I’d been addressed by the title, and I looked up at him, startled.

  “It’ll be all right.” He refilled my cup. “They’ll adjust to the fact that you and I met when Barret’s ship docked yesterday and it was love at first sight.”

  “Is that the story we’re to tell?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Colin, perhaps it would be best to make a clean breast of it and have this marriage annulled. We were both drunk and half-mad with grief…”

  “No!” Colin set the silver pot down with a thump. “I plan to care for you as Darcy would have. You’re my wife, Starr, and I want it to remain that way.” He took my hand and continued, “We’ll make it work. Just give it time. And rely on Marie. She was my mother’s lady’s maid. She’ll be your friend and guide.”

  “If that’s what you wish.”

  “It is.” He released my hand and got to his feet. “Now I must see my father. If you want anything, ring the bell and one of the maids will fetch it for you.” He stooped to kiss the top of my head and left me alone to finish my coffee in the colossal room.

  I was taking a sip of the fine coffee my husband had poured for me when his voice, bitter and hostile, caused me to spill the hot, black liquid over my dress front.

  “Well, madam, you seem to have a talent for maneuvering yourself into comfortable circumstances.”

  Brushing coffee from my lap with a napkin, I swung on my chair to face Captain Barret Madison. In a white shirt, neatly tied cravat, elegant tan vest and trousers, and gleaming knee-high riding boots, he looked every inch a member of the colonial gentry, far removed from his prior role as swashbuckling sea captain.

  “So you tricked young Colin into marrying you, did you?” he said pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite me. “Village gossip already declares he was drunk at the time. The maids who live out and come in each morning have brought the news. Where did you get the rum to seduce him? Did you steal it from my cabin?”

  “Who made such a vicious accusation?” I cried, rising.

  “Mary Constable was aroused to witness your triumph, was she not?” He helped himself to coffee from the silver urn Colin had left on the table. “The poor little wench is bitter. She’s already told her tale in the village mercantile for all to hear. She feels her goodness and virginity have brought her nothing but pain, while you, with your lax morals, have
managed to marry the wealthiest young bachelor in the valley. It’s not every day the son of the village’s most prominent citizen elopes with a ragamuffin immigrant whose intended has been dead a scant two weeks. You must appear incredibly fortunate—and adaptable.”

  “Get out!” I ordered. “Get out of this house at once!”

  “Playing mistress already, are you?” he mocked. “Caroline won’t like that. You’d do well to tread carefully near that feline.”

  “Get out!” I repeated, bringing my fist down on the table with a violence that made the dishes dance.

  “Most unbecoming behavior for a lady of the house.” He clucked his tongue disparagingly. “And all in vain, I can assure you. You see, I live here.”

  “You what?”

  “I’m commodore of Abe’s fleet,” he said. “He finds it convenient to have me close at hand when I’m in port.”

  “Well, you can’t stay here anymore…not now.” I couldn’t live in the same house as the man village gossip was suggesting I’d seduced on my voyage to this country.

  “Oh, but I’m afraid I must. It’s our master’s wish. As you’ll learn, no one defies Abraham Douglas.”

  “Well, I do…I will.”

  “Not wise.” He poured cream into his coffee. “I think you’ll find it won’t be an intolerable situation. I’m not a barbarous houseguest. I don’t chew tobacco, I seldom use a chamber pot—I’ve known the path to the privy for some time and I’m not afraid of the dark—and it’s only occasionally I come in under the influence and molest a maid servant or two.”

  Fuming with outrage at his brazenness, I could only listen in silence as he continued, “And, as you may recall, I defended your honor most chivalrously only last evening. Surely that entitles me to something more cordial than an order to vacate my current comfortable living arrangements.”

  “You said you couldn’t help find Darcy, that your only assistance would be to share a room in that tavern with me,” I raged. “That hardly constitutes a gallant rescue. When I fled because of your crude offer, you didn’t trouble yourself to come after me. I could have been raped or killed in the streets.”

  “Hardly,” he said, stirring his coffee with infuriating calm. “Once I’d ordered you left alone, you came under my protection in this village. You were as safe as you were aboard the Maris Stella. And I did not offer to share a room at the Black Horse with you. I merely said I would get you a room. Your female vanity read more into my offer than was intended.”

  “You have a smooth tongue! I wonder how long Mr. Douglas would allow you to remain under his roof if he knew you had tried to seduce his future daughter-in-law?”

  “Or how long you would remain if he knew you’d lived in my cabin for nearly a fortnight? I have a shipload of witnesses to my allegation and a faulty reputation when it comes to celibacy.”

  I longed to throw what was left of my coffee into his smirking face, but I knew I could not risk the possible outcome of such a show of contempt. We would either both remain in Abraham Douglas’ house or leave unceremoniously together. Angry and thwarted, I tried to make a haughty exit, but his mocking laughter followed me.

  I was at the foot of the staircase, hoping to find a servant and ask direction to Gram’s room, when Abraham stepped out of his office near the front door to confront me.

  “Come in, my dear.” He greeted me profusely and escorted me into the richly furnished room. Situated on the west side of the house and still untouched by the morning sun, it seemed cold and dark after the hot coffee and brightness of the easterly-facing dining room. I shivered.

  In a corner Colin stood by a window, his hands clasped behind his back. He tried to smile at me as his father assisted me to a chair, but the gesture resulted only in a nervous tick. He returned his gaze to the view outside.

  “Now, my child,” Abraham addressed me pleasantly. “Before I go to my office in the village, I want to speak to you. I must admit you puzzle me. Captain Madison has told me you sailed to this country in steerage, but you’re well spoken and decently mannered. That’s not common among that class of people. Tell me about yourself.”

  I paused, wondering what more Captain Madison had told him or would tell him in the days ahead and trying to sort out what I should say.

  “Come, come, child.” Abraham’s tone was genial. “It can’t be all that bad. Are you perhaps from an aristocratic family fallen on hard times? Tell us your story. We shall be kindly and attentive listeners, won’t we, Colin?”

  “Starr, you don’t have to…” My husband tried to intercede.

  “Of course she must!” Abraham overwhelmed him. “She’s a member of this family now. We must know all about her. Go ahead, child. We’re listening.”

  His tone brooked no refusal.

  I told him the story of my life as briefly and honestly as I dared. I did not tell him that the young village man who’d killed himself prior to my arrival had been my intended, that my father had been Captain Morgan Reynolds, or that I had been assaulted by a creature worse than vermin. I most certainly did not mention the events of my recent voyage.

  “I still say you speak well for a child brought up mainly in the coal mines,” he commented when I had finished my story. He appeared undeterred by my past as an orphaned miner or as a scullery maid.

  “The man I came to America to marry…who died before I arrived…had a learned father, and he himself was a man of letters,” I said proudly. “He taught me to read, write, and speak properly.”

  “Ah.” He rubbed his hands together, a cat-in-the-cream smile crossing his broad features. “So all you lack is a first-hand knowledge of dress and the social graces. That can easily be remedied. Yes, you’ll do nicely. Now you may go. I’m sure you wish to rest. This afternoon a seamstress and several other merchants will arrive to outfit you properly.”

  I got up to obey, then froze as I saw a crumpled pile of linen behind a side chair near the door. Red stains were blotted over what I recognized as our bed sheet. Horrified, I whirled on Colin. His eyes, desperately pleading, met mine. His face was tense and haggard, a nervous twitch afflicting his jaw.

  “I’m sorry, my dear.” Abraham said, becoming aware of the object of our mutual attention. “I had to have proof of your virginity. I had to be sure your child will be Colin’s. I could not allow a whore with some sailor’s bastard already in her belly to become my daughter-in-law. You’re very beautiful. You could easily have seduced my boy into making an unfortunate choice.”

  “Father, please!” Colin joined us, his face flushed.

  “Colin,” I began, turning angrily on my husband. He had deliberately deceived his father into believing he’d become my lover and that I had been a virgin at the time. I was about to tell Abraham Douglas the truth when I saw Colin’s desperate expression. Silently he was begging me to go along with the ruse.

  The truth died in my throat. When I’d been in dire straits, Colin Douglas had come to my rescue. The very least I could do was to go along with his fabrication of our wedding night.

  “You two have made me very happy,” Abraham was saying. “Now run along and rest, my dear. I must talk business with your lover. Since he’s seen fit to take on the responsibilities of a family man, he must also take on more of the responsibilities of running the Douglas business.”

  Ending his words with a fond, intimate chuckle, he slapped Colin on the back before propelling me out of the office and into the hallway. As the door shut after me, I was left alone to ponder Colin’s strange deception and what had driven him to it—his father’s shameless need for proof of my virginity at the time of our copulation.

  ****

  “Sit here, near the window, in the light. I want to have a good look at you.”

  I crossed the carpeted room and took the straight-backed chair the old lady indicated. I’d obeyed Ida Douglas’s order and come to visit her in her room as soon as Abraham dismissed me.

  For a few moments she scrutinized me with shrewd, dark eyes until
finally, as if satisfied with her findings, she grunted and settled back in her chair.

  “You’ve been in service, girl?” She gestured at my work-coarsened hands.

  “Yes, mum,” I murmured, keeping my eyes downcast. “For the past three years, mum.”

  “And before that?”

  “I was in the mines, mum.”

  “A hard life,” she said crisply. “Much like my own early day. Do you love my grandson?”

  “Not yet, mum,” I replied. “But he’s a good man. Love will come, I’ve no doubt.”

  “You’re an honest lass,” she said.

  “I try to be, mum,” I said, daring to meet her piercing gaze for the first time.

  “Yes, I believe you do,” she said. “You may call me Gram. Give me a kiss. Welcome to the family.”

  I went to plant a kiss on the soft, wrinkled cheek. As I began to straighten up, she caught my hand in hers with a strength startling in so elderly a woman.

  “Be good to the boy, Starr,” she said, her sharp old eyes bright and imploring. “His life has not been an easy one, in spite of his father’s wealth.”

  “I will, mum,” I said. “Never fear.”

  “Gram,” she corrected. “You may call me Gram. Now run along. I’m sure you’d much rather be with that handsome grandson of mine than with a fractious old woman.”

  “As you wish…Gram.”

  I left, acutely aware of her shrewd eyes on my departing figure. Like Barret Madison’s, they seemed to have the power to peer into my soul.

  ****

  “So you’ve trapped yourself a rich husband.”

  As I started down the upstairs corridor to return to Colin’s room, Caroline’s voice made me turn. She stood outside a closed door near the end of the hall and glared at me with contemptuous violet eyes.

  “What was your profession before you became Mrs. Colin Douglas, Starr?” She advanced toward me. “A scullery maid? A stable hand’s whore?”