Catch Me If You Can (29 page)

“This is hard for me, minx, let me finish what I’ve to say.” He put his fingers on her lips. “We brought the new land the strength of our family, and I wanted to be part of it. It was hard for me to walk away. I closed myself off to all of it and eventually learned to live quite contentedly until you came along. You made me feel emotions that I had not before, you made me think of all this again.”

“Hush my love, let us not talk of any more such things now, I’m afraid you are making me cry and I shouldn’t be meeting your family in such a state nor with puffy eyes.” She brushed away the tears, grabbing him into her arms and burying her face against his shoulder.

They stood that way for several minutes. She’d finally learnt about him and her pride for him flourished alongside respect. The reasons why he’d been such a loner came crashing into her heart. He did it out love for his brother, a true act of self-sacrifice. “And you didn’t want to be called Pierre because it reminded you of home?” 

He nodded. “When I left, I immersed myself in other things, the work with Frank, travels and investments, but the wine is in my blood.” He smiled faintly. “It drew me back and I wanted to learn everything of it. I thought I had left it behind here, but now I’ve learned more than even Grand-pére could teach me.”  He grinned. “Your aunt’s vineyard will soon be one of the best in the state.”

She reached up to kiss him, glad this sad story had many happy aspects to its ending. “You don’t mind me going on ahead to Frieda’s without you?”

“Of course I do. My sole aim has been to be by your side and protect you on your adventure, and your sole aim has been to outrun me to prove a point. You are both contrary and stubborn.” He stared deep into her eyes.

She saw humor in his expression, and affection too. It gave her strength. “It’s a wonder you cared enough to look for me at all.”

“It is. And you hid yourself so thoroughly that I, an experienced tracker and hunter, could not find you. You revealed yourself to me when you were ready to be found. That’s the kind of woman you are, and I am clearly cursed for I must endure your contrary ways in order to be close to you.”

“I’m relieved you still want to be close to me.”

“Always,” he murmured. “I want you to be content, and you won’t be content until you ride into the Craven Estate without me. Once again you’ve duped me into your will.”

She chuckled. “You once accused my father of pandering to me.”

He gave a faux pained sigh. “I understand him now. My affection for you makes me want to give you everything you want, even when it’s inadvisable. That is what you’ve done to me.”

Her heart swelled and laughter escaped her. “How terrible I am, and how gracious you are, Rivers.” She looked deep into his eyes, adoring the way they mellowed in the candlelight. “May I still call you Rivers? You’ll always be Rivers to me.”

“Call me what you will. I’ll be at your side as soon as humanly possible.” His voice was low. He lingered over the promise, with his hand sidling down around her waist, his body pressing hard against hers. Then he sighed and drew them apart, determinedly. “Come, we must go back up now, for I’m in danger of ravishing you right here and now and I fear my family will think I’ve lost all my manners since I’ve been gone from their jurisdiction.”

With that he took her hand, collected the lantern and led her on. Eleanor took a last look around the cellar that had fascinated her and supplied many insights.

Would it be this way at the Craven estate, too?
she wondered, looking from Rivers to the vast wine racks, and back again, at him.

Chapter Twenty-four

The Journey’s End

“Are you all right, Miss Eleanor?” Daniel looked at her with concern.

She gripped onto the pummel of her saddle with both hands and gave him a weak smile. “Yes, thank you. I’m a little dizzy. I fear I’m over tired.” She quickly dismissed the momentary spell. “Are we far from our destination?”

“We’ll be there within the hour.” He beamed happily for he’d been away from his home for a long while too.

An hour. They were only an hour away. That was a relief, she was exhausted and she felt a little unwell.
I’m tired.
She pushed the rising concerns from her mind and focused on the final part of what had been her epic journey, recounting all the things that had happened along the way. She didn’t need to read the map for this last stage, for it was engraved on her memory.

Daniel kindly pointed things out for her and her father’s words echoed in her mind, bringing a soft ache to her heart. He’d been here. He’d passed over these paths and she’d followed him, proving herself to his memory. She wondered if he was watching over her now, if he had been all the while, taking a part in her fate.

When the two riders finally passed under the massive iron arch of the Craven estate she looked up at her family name in huge ornate letters across the arch and gasped in awe. She’d done it, she’d crossed the world. She was truly there, at last, and it felt like coming home.

Home.

The long meandering driveway passed through orchards and vineyards. The vines trailed across the land like veins on skin and she looked at them fondly, remembering all the things Rivers had told her about viticulture. He’d told her he wanted to couple something of the old lands with something of the new. He’d surely done that, when it came to winning her heart. She smiled to herself and sighed.

The house itself was nestled against the hillside, and her heart missed a beat when she realized how much it resembled Oaklands. It was designed in the same style, but built of wood. Where there were sandstone pillars at home, here there were huge wooden pillars and balustrades. The front of the house had the same number of windows, the same impressive doorway. David Craven had obviously planned it to look the same as his home in England. It was a tribute to his heritage, as well as a celebration of the new land.

As they rode up to the entrance, a figure rose up from a chair on the terrace. It was Frieda and she dropped the book from her hand and ran down the steps to meet them. Her muted ochre dress billowed out as she ran, like a flag raised in greeting.

She reached up to take her hand, tears of gratitude in her eyes. “Oh my special girl, you’re here at last.” Her voice was choked with emotion.

Eleanor laughed her own tears away and climbed down, embracing Frieda closely. “Yes, I’m here,” she replied, her eyes closing with relief.

“I cannot tell you how unutterably happy it makes me to have you here.” Frieda grasped her in a strong embrace. “And your friends, such lovely youngsters you’ve brought me too.” Frieda’s eyes glinted with tears.

Eleanor smiled. She was glad her assumption Frieda would care for the two young people had been proven correct.

“Clare’s settling right in and she’s been busy today getting your room ready and unpacking your trunks that came in from New York.” Frieda had her arm locked around Eleanor.

It was good to feel the arm of welcome around her.

When they entered the dark polished wood hallway, Frieda called out to the housekeeper, a jolly looking woman who beamed at them.

“Eleanor and Daniel are home, Edna. Please bring tea and send Paul down to the telegraph office. He must let Rivers know Eleanor is safe here with us now.” 

Eleanor looked from Edna to Frieda, taking in the housekeeper’s warm, friendly and curious smile and Frieda’s words about Rivers. He was still keeping a watch out for her, even though he’d allowed her to go on without him. She couldn’t help smiling.

“He won’t be far behind you. He sent word he would leave when he knew you were safely here. Then we can have a celebration.” 

Yes
, thought Eleanor.
Please let it be a celebration
.

* * *

The suite of rooms Frieda had chosen for her was beautiful. The bedroom was the same as hers at home in size, and she suspected Frieda had chosen it on purpose, to make her feel welcome. The bed was beautifully carved mahogany, as was much of the interior and furnishings of the house, giving it a gracious character, a rich, pleasing atmosphere.

“Eleanor!”

Clare rushed into her arms. She hugged the girl and looked at her. “Are you well? Do you like it here?”

“Oh yes, it’s such a lovely house and Mrs. Craven has made me welcome. I’ve my own room and I’ve been helping out around the house with the housekeeper and I’ve done most of your unpacking…except one trunk which has a note for you on top. I figured it was a gift or something different to the rest.”

Eleanor could tell from the ceaseless chatter that Clare was happy with her new home, which warmed her heart. She glanced over at the pile of trunks that sat in one corner of the room. It was strange to find the familiar things settled in their new surroundings. An extra trunk was set to one side, not one of her own. She went over to it and knelt down. Clare helped her wrestle with the straps and opened it up.

Inside laid a mound of material and a letter on the top, it was from Miette. Eleanor opened the letter while Clare lifted the contents out, holding them up for Eleanor, gasping at each and every one of the lovely items. There was a beautiful crochet blouse, high collared with intricate working around the neck and a fringed shawl made by the same hand, a beautiful set. Petticoats that held layer upon layer of flimsy material bounced up as Clare moved her hand in the trunk. Eleanor saw the gown she’d worn on New Year’s Eve. She smiled to herself and read the brief scrawled note from Miette.

Ari has stayed in New York and outlived his own notoriety, it seems. He passes

his greetings and his thanks to you darling, as do I. The lace gown I’ve had

altered, for it looked best on you. Write often and visit us soon.

Miette.

What a year it had been
, Eleanor thought.

Clare dug deeper and retrieved the beautiful black gown Eleanor had worn the first night aboard ship. She pulled it out and ran her hand over the surface. Eleanor remembered the dash to her cabin, the torn dress and Rivers smiling down at her after the escapade.

“Would you like to finish the task you’ve done so well for me, Clare?”

The girl nodded eagerly and lifted the black lace gown out, her expression full of awe and admiration. She laid it out on the bed and ran to the wardrobes.

Eleanor smiled. She was pleased Clare had settled with her.

“How is Leo?”

Clare beamed, blushing quickly as she tended the dress. “He’s well. He’s been all over the place already, looking at the land. He came and told me all about it earlier, says its good land. He’s taking me to the local town soon.” 

Eleanor embraced her again then sent her on her way so she could rest. She needed to gather her thoughts and think clearly, for despite her gratitude at having finally arrived and achieved her goal, there was a new uncertainty wavering at the edge of Eleanor’s thoughts.

* * *

The evening was cool and clear and they looked up into the sky, watching the flickering of the stars.

“I can’t believe it’s the same sky I’ve been under all this time. I must be in another place now,” Eleanor said, turning to Frieda. They were out on the massive porch, taking the evening air. Eleanor pulled her shawl closer about her.

Frieda smiled. “This is the same sky that covers England too, I often thought about that before.” Her voice trailed off.

Guilt stole in on Eleanor. She sat next to Frieda on the carved bench. “I don’t know what I can say. I feel responsible for Father’s death.”

Frieda looked up sharply. “You mustn’t blame yourself, dear child, life’s pattern was already decided and it wasn’t your fault.”

“I could perhaps have prevented it,” Eleanor replied, her thoughts flying back through time. After a moment she turned to Frieda. “I feel for you, for your loss as well as my own.” 

“I still have my memories. I’m a lucky woman. I had two wonderful men in my life.” 

Her forthright words struck Eleanor, but she still couldn’t come to terms with her acceptance. She seemed undemanding. Eleanor wondered if she would ever grow mature enough to be the same, to live on memories, she certainly couldn’t now. When it came to the lover she nurtured in her heart, she felt she would die if he were taken from her. She shook the thought off. “Was it horribly difficult when the brother’s parted?”

Frieda nodded. “When James announced it was time for him to return to England I couldn’t bear it. James told David he had to make an honest woman of me, build the Craven Estate in the new world. They shook hands but they were both diminished somehow. I cried. A lot.” She was silent for a moment. “The next day James left for England and David married me within the week.”  She turned to Eleanor, the smile covering the sadness in her eyes. “David and I had a wonderful marriage. They were great believers in fate, as you are, I think?”

“Yes,” Eleanor murmured. “It’s something I’ve thought a lot about, fate. When Father died I knew I had to come here to be with you, and along my journey fate has taught me a great deal, made me new friends and family.” 

Frieda smiled. “It’s in your blood.” 

“I’ve caused a mountain of trouble for you and Rivers. I’m so sorry.” 

Frieda shrugged. “You are here now, and Rivers will be glad.” Catching the look on Eleanor’s face she added, “I feel quite sure he would have been chasing across the world looking for you even if I hadn’t wanted him to.”  She watched Eleanor closely, smiling to herself.

Would he be glad, though
? Eleanor wondered.
Would he be pleased with what she had to say to him?

“Frieda, there’s something I must ask you to help me with. I believe I should see a doctor.”

“My poor child, are you sick?”

“Well no, and yes, a little. I think.”  She held her breath. Whatever would Frieda think of her predicament? “I think I may be with child”

“Oh my dear, that’s wonderful news… isn’t it?” Frieda asked, looking at Eleanor’s frown.

“I think it is.” She smiled. She was glad to have told someone about her suspicions. “It feels right.” A picture of the little girl, Fleur, had taken root in her mind, and the happiness was undeniable.

“And the father is Rivers?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.”  Frieda beamed. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Both your father and I realized he was in love with you after we left Oaklands for France.”

Eleanor sat silently for moment, surprised and pleased her father had known something of what might come in the future. He’d known Rivers had genuine feelings for her, and in time she’d seen it too. “Yes, he loves me, but I don’t know how he will feel about this. He asked me to marry him in New York, and I’m afraid I rebuked him.”

“I know.” Frieda chuckled. “He wrote me that it was his foolish impetuosity that had caused you to take off.”

Eleanor chuckled too. “I hadn’t realized we were quite so much at cross-purposes. It’s all been such a terrible mess.”

“He’s obviously forgiven you, and himself, and this baby is proof of that. I’m sure he will be as pleased as I am.” Frieda eyes glistened.

“I hope so. When he asked me to marry him, I wasn’t sure of his motives.”

“You know he loves you, is that not motive enough?”

“Oh yes, I wasn’t sure of it at the time, and I’m afraid I had been naïve enough to be led astray by an entirely untrue picture of him.”

“Well, my dear Eleanor, you must let the complications and misunderstandings go, love is a simple enough reason for two people to be together. Trust in it.”

“I’ll try.” Eleanor felt strangely adrift, waiting for him to arrive.

“You’ve had an astonishing effect on his life, to have reunited him with his family. I doubt it would have happened otherwise, he’d closed his heart to that part of his life.”

Eleanor nodded. It was good to have seen him happily reunited with his family. Didn’t that mean he would be spending his spare moments building bridges with them? Would there still be a place for her in his life now? The demon of uncertainty unleashed its jibes at every opportunity.

“Don’t fret, he’ll be here soon enough to set your mind at rest. Meanwhile we will go into town tomorrow and visit Doctor Silverman.” Frieda rested her arm around Eleanor’s shoulder, comforting her. “Then we might know for certain before he arrives.”

* * *

Eleanor buttoned up her dress and straightened out the sleeves. She took a deep breath, picked up her reticule and stepped out from behind the dressing screen. The doctor was sitting at his desk making notes. He’d given her no clues while he examined her.