Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1)

by Kinslow, Nanette

  “Louisa Elizabeth Elgerson.” The young mother whispered as she watched her baby blissfully, feeling quite exhausted. “They were my grandmother’s names.”

  “Very pretty,” Isabel replied quietly as she took the sleeping infant from Rebecca and set her in the waiting bassinet.

  “To Louisa Elizabeth Elgerson!” Phillip toasted as the men touched their brandy snifters, dipping in the butt ends of cigars, even allowing the boy a taste in a snifter of his own.

  The long-legged men lounged on the porch in the late morning sun. Isabel came out onto the porch and noticed Mark with his brandy. She shot the men a glaring look and they raised their glasses to her, grinning broadly.

  “You two are beyond belief!” She smiled and shook her head.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Timothy sat restless and fidgeted in the tiny kitchen, watching Mark from across the room. He was trying desperately to make Louisa laugh despite her loud wails.

  “I think she’s really mad, Pa.” The boy sighed and dropped into a chair.

  “What do you imagine she could possibly have to be that angry about?” Timothy set aside his paperwork and crossed the room to pick up the fretting child.

  “I think she wants to eat again. She looks pretty darned mad to me.”

  Rebecca stepped sleepily from the bedroom and gathered up the now wailing infant, who began to root against her breast violently. She returned to the room without a word and in moment the house returned to a peaceful bliss and Timothy sighed.

  For several days Rebecca felt as if she could not sleep enough. Timothy often paced the floor, softly whispering to the persistent infant, and Mark learned to change diapers while singing Skip to My Lou all hours of the day and night. All of their lives revolved almost entirely around tiny Louisa.

  The baby settled into a routine as the days warmed and her demands for constant feeding subsided, to the relief of everyone in the household. Her tiny form began to fill out and one afternoon Timothy was certain she smiled at him.

  “I guess it’s too early to think about the next baby,” Timothy speculated aloud as he cradled his daughter in his powerful arm.

  “Another one?” Rebecca looked up from her knitting and observed him watching Louisa fondly.

  “Another baby!” He smiled at her handsomely.

  “I would think you had been up enough nights singing to the one you have already.” Rebecca shook her head, smiling.

  “This one is much too small to fill the entire third floor of Stavewood. I believe we’ll need several just like her before we can load the place up. Don’t you agree, Loo?” he cooed.

  “She’ll grow in time.” Rebecca sighed, grinning.

  Rebecca had nearly regained her strength and, as the seasons changed, she approached Timothy on the porch.

  “I think it’s time,” she placed her hand lovingly on his shoulder.

  “Time?” he replied absently, his face serious as he stared into the trees.

  “I think your sentence should be over now, sir.” Rebecca moved to the chair beside him.

  “Is that a proposition, madam?” He looked up at her curiously.

  “Yes,” she smiled at him mischievously. “And more.”

  “After all these weeks of waiting, I can’t imagine anything I would enjoy more.” He looked at her lovingly and smiled.

  “It’s time to return to Stavewood.” Her face was serious.

  “Are you sure?” He fought to contain his excitement.

  “We need to go home. I miss the place terribly and I can no longer bear to watch you suffer in this tiny cottage.” She smiled and touched his arm. “Take me home, Timothy. Take me back to Stavewood the way we planned on our wedding day.”

  Timothy stood and pulled her close to him, kissing her fervently.

  He looked down into her emerald eyes and whispered to her. “I would enjoy that almost as much as our wedding night.”

  The man had made regular trips to Stavewood, always returning with piles of gifts for Rebecca and the baby, clothing and yarn and silver rattles. Rebecca could knit for every minute of the rest of her life and never make a dent in the mounds of yarn he had carted back. He made several trips to the dressmaker, once bringing back a girl to take Rebecca’s measurements, and supplied her with an astounding wardrobe with which to dress her returning figure.

  He struggled to keep himself from his beautiful wife, her figure fuller and more inviting. He could barely contain himself until Louisa was settled in the nursery at Stavewood.

  He now spent several days riding back home to bring as much as he could to the big house. The last day he stopped at the home of his parents, so that Mark could kiss them goodbye. The boy rattled on in excitement, as he always did, happy to be returning home again while soothing the big cat captive in the box on his lap.

  “Don’t you worry, son,” Phillip had placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Your Grandmother and I are coming up next week. I’ll bring those good poles and we’ll hit the lake and bring in some of those walleye.”

  After bringing Mark back to Stavewood, Timothy returned to the cottage to find Rebecca finishing a thorough cleaning in anticipation of returning home the following day.

  With no one about the place except her and the infant, Rebecca selected a lightweight green gown that fit her waist. She was nearly as thin as before her pregnancy, and she left a few buttons unfastened at the bodice, in the heat of the afternoon. With her hair piled loosely upon her head, Timothy found her kneeling on the floor trying to retrieve a tiny stocking from under a chair.

  “Let me get that,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes from her generously displayed cleavage. “There is something about you crawling about on the floor that I find quite unnerving, woman.”

  Rebecca sat back on her ankles, her hair tumbling in soft tendrils around her shoulders and framing her delicate face. “Tell me all about it,” she smiled provocatively. She could see the hunger in his eyes and was eager for him to find her beautiful once again. “Do I still spark your interest?”

  “More than ever.” His heart pounded in his chest as he watched her regarding him eagerly.

  “Where might that daughter of ours be?” he looked into the sultry depths of Rebecca’s emerald eyes.

  Rebecca smiled mischievously. “I moved her bassinet into the other room.”

  Timothy accepted her invitation openly and pulled her to him.

  Rebecca fell into his arms impatiently and he kissed her feverishly. She felt the remaining buttons of her bodice fall free as he cupped his hand against her full breast and she caught her breath, the pleasure of his touch filling her with an equal hunger for him.

  “Woman,” he whispered hoarsely, “you have no idea how nearly impossible it has been to keep myself away from this.”

  He pressed his lips between her breasts, now completely fulfilled with her progression into womanhood. Rebecca arched her back with pleasure.

  He continued to unfasten her dress and she pressed herself against him, moaning with desire.

  When she felt his firm hunger against her thigh she could stand no more. She stood up beside him and let her dress fall free to the floor.

  Timothy caught his breath, having been denied the vision of her for so long. Her waist was still slender and firm, her hips now fuller with curves, and her breasts full and firm. Where Rebecca had been beautifully petite and delicate, her body now was that of a woman, possessing provocative fullness and Timothy could contain himself no longer.

  Rebecca walked slowly to the bedroom and the bold view of her curved backside had him struggling to his feet to follow her.

  She lay on the bed, her hair pulled free to tumble around her, open desire in the depths of her eyes.

  He disrobed slowly, his white shirt falling from his broad shoulders, exposing his powerful chest, his trim waist, his firm and taut stomach. As he removed his trousers from his powerful legs, Rebecca gasped at the sight of his openly displayed desire for her and she lif
ted herself from the bed and pulled him to her hungrily.

  He filled her to perfection, satisfying the craving Rebecca hungered for as she rose to meet him and he drew her to him, whispering her name softly and fulfilling his own hunger for her.

  Rebecca lay beside him, the warm afternoon sun streaming across the bed, Timothy’s muscular body stretched beside her.

  He watched her face as she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face and searching his warm brown eyes.

  “Are you happy?” he asked her, his voice smooth and deep.

  “Perfectly,” she whispered in reply.

  “Tomorrow we will go back to Stavewood.” He turned onto his side to face her. “Tomorrow I’ll be bringing my family home.”

  “Tomorrow,” she whispered.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Rebecca called from the cottage. “Are you certain we have everything?” She checked the house one last time as Timothy assured her that the carriage was fully prepared. The driver waited patiently as Phillip and Isabel tucked Louise inside, kissing and fussing over her.

  “I’ve had that route checked and rechecked, Dad,” Timothy assured him. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. There’s been no trouble.”

  Rebecca stopped in the doorway of the cottage and, although it was lovely, imagined that Stavewood was whispering on the afternoon breeze, calling her home.

  She kissed Phillip and Isabel warmly and Timothy lifted her into the carriage eagerly and they began their journey home.

  “Excited?” Timothy gathered the baby into his lap and the young wife snuggled into his shoulder.

  “Very. I’ll miss your parents so much, but I feel as if I belong at Stavewood.” Rebecca sighed.

  “As you always have.” Timothy looked into her glistening eyes.

  “So much has changed since I’ve been there,” she thought aloud. “I’m a wife and a mother now. I feel as if I’m a different person since we’ve been there.”

  “We both are, I suppose. I never really thought about it all that much on my trips back, but for you I guess, many things have changed. I’m glad we’re going home. I need you there, and Louise should be there.” Timothy watched his daughter sleeping in his arm. “Stavewood is missing something since you’ve been gone. Maybe it always was. It’s as if it were always there, waiting for you.”

  “And I was waiting for Stavewood, and you.” Rebecca took his hand and stroked her baby’s sweet face.

  “We’ll be taking the back ridge road. We’ll get there that much faster.” Timothy laid his head back against the seat as Rebecca dozed in the strength of his arm.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Rebecca heard a loud crack shatter the quiet of the ride and woke suddenly as the carriage shifted to one side.

  “Timothy!” she screamed, watching him pull the baby to his chest as the vehicle tilted violently.

  “Get down!” he shouted, pushing her onto the floor of the carriage. Rebecca doubled over as the coach began to overturn.

  Timothy heard a gunshot and tried to gather his feet beneath him. He found himself outside of the carriage, the baby pulled close to his chest. He felt the searing crease of the next bullet graze his shoulder and scrambled to the cover of a nearby tree trunk.

  His feet gave way beneath him as he stumbled too close to a slick embankment and he began to roll. He held the infant to him, supporting her with the strength of his arms as they tumbled.

  Splinters of bark exploded over his head as he lay in a deep ravine at the bottom of the long hill, the child silently studying his face. He heard the scuffle of feet above him and felt the warmth of his own blood wetting his shoulder.

  “Philip! You must tell me what route they’ve taken to Stavewood!”

  Octavia was reining in her horse brutally, in front of the cottage, frantic and breathing hard.

  “I believe my mother has gone completely mad! You have to tell me! She’s going to kill them both if someone doesn’t stop her. Please!” Octavia was screaming hysterically and pleading with the man.

  “They took the back ridge road. I’ll get my men together!” Phillip replied, but before he could finish, Octavia turned her horse and rode swiftly towards the ridge.

  Timothy looked into the dark eyes of his softly breathing daughter and prayed that she didn’t utter a sound. She was the perfect image of her mother and the man held his breath, his mind racing. He tried to devise a way to get to Rebecca and still protect the child.

  “Rot in hell, Elgerson!” He heard Dianna’s voice echo through the ravine. “You could have had Octavia, but you lusted after that bitch instead! Well, now you can just rot in hell!”

  Timothy heard her stomp away on the hard packed road.

  “She thinks I’m dead,” he whispered, holding perfectly still. The baby smiled innocently.

  He waited several seconds until the footsteps had completely died away and silently made his way up the hillside, the child against him in one arm. Part way up he heard Rebecca scream out his name and he stopped, listening and hoping with every inch of his being that he could rush to her. He heard her cry out again, indignation in her voice, and he continued to scramble up the hill.

  As he reached the rise to the road, he heard a horse galloping off swiftly, and the angered cry of his own animal, still fastened to the carriage. Rebecca was nowhere in sight.

  He leapt up onto the road and set the child in a soft pile of clothing near the carriage. He struggled to unhitch Cannonball from the carriage, the horse finally scrambling to its feet and stomping in circles angrily. Commanding the horse firmly he pulled the animal clear of the carriage. The dead body of the driver lay motionless beneath the broken wheel.

  He held his daughter, frantic with indecision, while the horse snorted hotly at his shoulder. He could not leave the infant alone in the wilderness, and he knew that if he could not reach Rebecca, Dianna would surely kill her.

  He tried to devise a way to carry the baby and still travel on horseback, but the Arabian bore no saddle and, even without the child, Timothy would have a hard ride. He pulled a piece of leather luggage from the carriage hoping to attach it across the animal’s back. He tried stuffing the bag with a shirt, and pulled the flap closed loosely to allow for air. He drew his rifle from the broken carriage and tried to find a way to hold the child and mount the animal. Timothy heard a fast approaching horse.

  Believing he recognized Dianna racing towards him, he sighted the muzzle of his gun, targeting the approaching rider.

  “Timothy!” Octavia shouted.

  He held onto the trigger and began to squeeze it slowly.

  “Timothy! Stop! I know where Mother may have gone!”

  The big man lowered the rifle, his breathing rapid and hoarse.

  “Where? She has Rebecca. Where is she?” he yelled.

  Octavia jumped from her horse, running frantically to face the infuriated giant.

  “Have you come to claim your prize, Octavia?” Timothy snarled at her through clenched teeth.

  “Mother’s gone mad! You have to believe me, Tim. I had no idea of all the things she’s been doing!”

  “Get out of my way, Octavia. I have no time to listen to your lies. Tell me where she’s taken my wife!” He lunged at her, grabbing her by the shoulders.

  “I was a stupid fool!’ Octavia cried. “She told me that she would take care of things. I let her do everything for me. I never cared as long as I had everything I wanted! She killed Uncle Finn, she admitted it all! She cut that poor sweet man’s throat and left him dying, she wants to kill Rebecca too!” Octavia did not fight as Timothy growled fiercely into her face and held her in his painful grip.

  “I thought I was in love with you until that day your son was missing. It all made sense the day you told me you were to be married. I was so angered not to get what I wanted. But you weren’t in love with me. You belonged to Rebecca. Tim, I was a fool and Mother has her now. Please listen to me. She’s heading for the clearing behind Hawk Bend S
tation. You have to go after her. She’s crazy, Tim! She’ll kill her!”

  Timothy pushed her from him and turned to mount his horse as Louisa let out a clear squeal.

  “Damn,” he cursed. He opened the bag and lifted out the child, his hands shaking with fear and indecision.

  “Timothy?” Octavia gasped. “Where on earth did you get a baby?”

  “She’s my daughter, Octavia.”

  “Give her to me, Tim. You can’t go after Rebecca with a baby! Don’t be a fool. Leave her with me. Go get your wife!”

  Timothy looked at her, his face dark and infuriated.

  “Damn it all, Octavia!”

  “Tim, I would never hurt her. Please, go get your wife before this poor baby loses her mother. Now!” Octavia screamed at him, her body shaking with fear.

  Timothy looked down at his daughter’s tiny face and quivered in dread as he handed her to Octavia, choking back tears. He took his rifle and leapt onto the Arabians back.

  “I swear Octavia. If anything happens to that child I will hunt you down until my dying day.”

  “I know,” Octavia whispered as the man rode off.

  He picked up Dianna’s trail quickly, quaking with terror as he rode. His eyes spilling over with tears, he drove his horse, clinging to the animal’s mane with fear and hatred.

  Timothy Elgerson rode on, crazed, until he found evidence that two people had left a horse and scuffled in the dirt.

  The Arabian was frantic, sensing his master’s panic as Timothy lay against the big stallion’s back studying the jumble of footsteps in the dust.

  He heard a shout not far in the distance and urged the horse forward, easing out his rifle. Through the tangle of trees he could make out the broad back of Dianna, her feet planted beneath her and could hear her bellows.

  “I will find you and kill you, bitch!” she screamed. “Elgerson is dead and I swear you will rot in hell beside him!”