Elizabeth Meyette (33 page)

“Have mercy, Emily!”

She laughed and twirled away. It had been so long since they had entertained, and she felt giddy. Her heart beat quickly, and she caught herself giggling.
What is wrong with me? I am like a young girl.
But life had been so difficult for them this past year, and now they had so much to celebrate.

Jonathon donned his coat and held out his arm to escort Emily. Taking it, she bestowed a smile of love and gratitude, and inside, she said a prayer of thanksgiving for the wonderful man she had married. Together they headed toward the stairs. A sound caught Emily’s attention, and she stopped to listen. A pounding noise came from the east wing. She saw Jonathon’s face darken, and he released her hand from his arm. He turned down the hall toward Deidre’s room.

“She is not going to ruin this evening.”

• • •

Guests mingled in the supper room and ballroom their laughter echoing off the walls. Tables were covered with plates mounded with beef, poultry and fish alongside fruits and puddings, and on others, bowls of wassail stood next to jugs of cider and decanters of wine, rum and brandy. The clinking of glasses and toasts to good health rang throughout the rooms as couples danced jigs and the La Royale, their faces bright with Christmas cheer, both spirit and spirits. Jonathon whirled Emily around the floor, laughing with her as she tried to keep her balance. Looking across the floor, he spied Andrew and Jenny who seemed to have eyes only for each other.

“I believe your brother is hopelessly smitten,” Jonathon chuckled.

Emily followed his gaze. “Indeed.”

“How long will Jenny stay with us, do you suppose?” he asked.

“Longer than she originally intended, I suspect,” Emily laughed.

Just then David and Joanna danced up to them and stopped.

“We were just discussing how cupid seems to have found the mark.” Jonathon nodded toward Andrew and Jenny, watching as they nonchalantly stood close enough so that their arms touched.

“I believe they think no one notices,” Jonathon said pulling a serious face.

Joanna laughed. “It would be difficult to be anywhere near them and not notice.”

“I remember that feeling of trying to be discrete and hold back any indications of my desire.” Jonathon looked into Emily’s eyes.

“I think Andrew has been more successful in holding back his desire. As I recall, Jonathon, you seduced Emily fairly early on.”

“Me? I seduced Emily?” His eyebrows shot up and he looked from his sister to his wife. He saw the laughter in their eyes.

“Jonathon, you are not suggesting for a moment that it was I who seduced you? You are too much a gentleman to make such an insinuation.” Emily looked demurely at her hands.

“David, support me here, man!”

“Oh, no, Jonathon. It would take weeks of tender whispers and many gifts to oppose Joanna.” He laughed and placed an arm around his wife.

They all laughed and Jonathon’s mind was filled with the memory of Emily’s body lying against the muslin sheets in the cabin, her voice low, her eyes inviting. Their first time together was etched forever in his mind.

Jonathon took Emily’s hand and pulled her into the dancing couples that were passing. David and Joanna joined them.

• • •

The laughter and music swelled as dancers swirled around in step. Suddenly, at one end of the room, people began looking around and voices lowered, then little by little, conversations dropped off until finally, the music stopped. Faces turned toward the ceiling as the sound of pounding and then a loud crash disrupted the gaiety of the gathering. Jonathon stormed out of the room followed by David and Andrew. Confusion showed on the faces of the guests and an uncomfortable murmuring buzzed about the room. Emily stepped to where the musicians were stationed and held up her hands.

“Apparently there is very strenuous cleaning and repair going on upstairs.” Her voice was raised so that all of the guests could hear her, but it was not enough to cover the sounds from above. “Please, it is nothing to be concerned about. Let us continue our Christmas celebration.” Smiling, she motioned to the musicians who picked up their instruments and began to play, and people began to move and talk tentatively. In a moment, the noises ceased and the festive atmosphere returned to the gathering.

Joanna led Emily into the supper room and poured them each a glass of wine. Speaking softly, Emily said.

“Deidre’s only desire is to see me miserable.” She took a hearty sip of the wine. “Or dead.”

Joanna nodded. “You are right, Emily, and we must always remember how dangerous she can be. She must be a terribly unhappy woman. As well as being mad.”

Emily looked at her sister-in-law, grateful for such an advocate. “No matter how desperate things get, Joanna, you always seem able to make me smile.”

• • •

Jonathon unlocked the door to Deidre’s room and swung it open. She was sitting by the hearth, pounding the black, cast-iron poker onto the andiron. Her hair fell about her face in disarray looking more like spilled straw than its usual golden radiance. She turned to look at him with hollow empty eyes. Across the room, the ewer and bowl lay in shards on the rug, water dampening the roses in the pattern.

“Deidre, you must stop,” Jonathon commanded as he entered the room.

David and Andrew stepped in behind him.

“Jonathon.” Deidre’s voice was scratchy and she reached out to him.

“Deidre, you must stop,” he repeated.

Tears streamed down her face as she held her hand out to him. He ignored it. The memory of her standing naked before him in the cabin, mounting him, forcing herself on him, caused bile to rise in his throat. He would never forgive her, and he certainly would never forgive himself for what happened between them.

“Jonathon, you are entertaining, and you have not invited me. I will put on a gown, my green one, I think. Remember how we danced when I wore it to your Christmas ball before you sailed to … ” Her face transformed from weeping to hateful in a second. “ … before you sailed to England and brought
her
back.” She spat the words. “You were mine, Jonathon. We were meant to be together, and
she
stole you from me.” Vitriol spilled from her words.

She rose up on all fours like a cat, her face creased in a frown, her eyes unfocused. Jonathon saw Andrew step back. Awkwardly, Deidre stood moving her skirts so as to not step on them. Her gown billowed over her enlarged belly, and Jonathon stared at it, transfixed. This was his child. His mind rejected the thought, but he knew it was true. This was his child as much as Grace was his child. And if this child were a boy, he would be the heir. His skin crawled and he felt sick.

“I will kill her.” Deidre’s face was a garish mask, her mouth slack, her eyes dark. Her voice brought Jonathon back to the moment.

“You will never get near her, Deidre.”

Her eyes brightened at his words to her and her demeanor changed again.

“Jonathon, bring me with you to the ball,” she whimpered.

Dulcie appeared behind him with a tea tray.

“I brought you some tea, Miss Deidre. I will stay while you drink it,” she said.

Walking over to the table, she placed the tray on it and poured a cup. Handing it to Deidre, she spoke softly. “This will help calm you down. Then we can talk about the ball you went to.”

Deidre looked from Jonathon to Dulcie.

“Go on, Miss Deidre, drink your tea.”

Deidre sipped the tea and sat on the edge of the bed.

Dulcie turned to the men and motioned them out of the room.

Jonathon looked back at Deidre who sat on the bed staring at nothing, rubbing her belly.

• • •

The men returned from upstairs, and Emily had never seen Jonathon’s face so angry. He picked up a glass, poured some brandy and downed it in one gulp. Emily’s throat burned just watching him. He pounded the glass on the table and looked over the crowd.

“It seems so cruel to keep her locked up,” he said softly. He gripped the table. “But she is mad. She tried to — kill you and Grace,” he said looking at Emily.

“What else can be done, Jonathon? She cannot be allowed to move about freely, for she will threaten Emily again,” Joanna cried.

“I sometimes think that locking her up has made her madness worse, but it cannot be helped.” He looked off in the distance. “I saw it in her eyes when she came to me in the cabin. I think the seeds of evil were planted when she killed her husband, Robert.”

The music floated in from the next room mingled with the laughter of the guests, a stark contrast to the emotions roiling within Jonathon, fear for Emily mixed with guilt for his part in this drama. Somehow he should have been able to thwart Deidre’s plan when she came to the cabin. Now the result was the child growing within her womb. His child — perhaps his son. He poured another brandy and tossed it down.

“We had best return to our guests. Thank you for resuming the festive mood, Love.”

“Jonathon, what was she doing?” Emily asked.

The image of Deidre like a cat on all fours burned into his brain.

“It matters not, Love, for she is mad.”

• • •

January brought bitter cold and icy rain to welcome the New Year, and Brentwood Manor settled into quiet days of ordinary activities and evenings spent around the hearth playing games of whist. Jonathon and David took turns traveling to Williamsburg to stay current with the course of the war against the British, neither traveling at the same time in case Deidre caused more trouble. Emily and Joanna stayed busy caring for the children, and Jenny occupied her time writing letters to Andrew and reading. A sense of peace pervaded the house, and each family member was grateful for it.

It was a rainy evening when Jonathon arrived from his recent trip to Williamsburg. Emily sprang up to meet him as he entered but kept her distance until he had removed his hat and shaken off the raindrops that had gathered in the folds of the tricorn. Laughing, he carefully swung his heavy woolen cloak off of his shoulders spraying cold rain across the marble floor. After hanging it on a nearby hook, he opened his arms wide.

“Now, my wife, grant me a warm welcome home.”

Emily ran to his arms, feeling as much love as when he first came back to her from the British. His face was cold against hers, and his hands traced icy circles across her back.

“Jonathon, come to the fire and warm yourself,” she laughed. She took his hands in hers and rubbed them until they began to warm up. Arms wrapped around each other’s waists, they joined the group in the parlor.

“What news, Jonathon?” David asked rising from his chair. He poured a brandy and handed it to him.

“It is good, David. It is good. General Washington and his troops were able to defeat the Hessians at Trenton. Tales of crossing the Delaware on Christmas night tell of brutal conditions, almost impossible with the ice blocking their way and a nor’easter blowing. But, by God, they did it! And on he led his men to a battle at Princeton where he surprised Cornwallis’s rear guard and routed the British again. I am told the Pennsylvania militia would have followed Washington to hell and back. In less than a fortnight, he claimed two major victories.”

“By God, that is happy news, Jonathon!” David clapped him on the back. The two men clinked their brandy glasses together in a toast.

“To Washington!” Jonathon beamed.

“To Washington.” David downed his drink.

Emily watched her husband as he announced his news. His face shone in the firelight, and his eyes danced with elation. She knew how long he had been working for the cause of freedom, and his dedication to the cause was embedded deeply in his spirit.

• • •

Grace lay on Jonathon’s lap cooing and smiling at her father. He watched his daughter with the same sense of wonder he had felt upon first seeing her. How could such a tiny being send pangs of tenderness through him? He had sailed in deadly storms at sea, had fought and killed for the cause of freedom, had suffered torture at the hands of the British, all of which should have hardened him against such an unexpected assault leveled by this tiny infant. But no, one smile from his Grace and he surrendered to her magic.

“How are you this fine day, Miss Grace?” he cooed. Oh no, he was using that strange voice again — the one only she could elicit from him. He cleared his throat and started again, this time in his usual baritone.

“How are you this fine day, Miss Grace?”

The baby laughed out loud at him, waving her tiny fists and kicking her legs.

“I see you prefer a voice more suited to your brave, manly father.”

She laughed again, and his heart melted. One of her tiny booties fell off, and he gently grasped her ankle and kissed the sole of her foot. She squirmed and laughed with delight.

“Oh, my, Miss Grace, I believe I am in extreme danger when I am with you, for if you asked me for the moon, I would find a way to get it for you.”

“You will spoil her terribly, I can see that already.” Emily laughed as she set down the tea tray. Jonathon watched her flowing movements as she poured their tea, captured by her lissome beauty as she sat beside him.

“I am a ruined man, caught between the dual menace of two irresistible women.”

Emily’s eyes danced as she handed him his teacup. “A danger you have brought on by your own doing, Captain Brentwood.”

Her words had a different effect than she intended, for it reminded him of other consequences of his actions. Deidre would deliver his other child any day now. Would he feel the same love for that child as he did for Grace? And what if she delivered a son? His stomach lurched at the thought and he suddenly felt drained of energy. Why had he allowed Deidre to lie with him? Why could he have not had the strength to hold her back? He would pay for the rest of his life for that one afternoon.

Looking up, he saw Emily’s eyes on him. She took his cup and saucer and set it back on the tray. Taking his hand, she moved to face him.

“Jonathon, guilt will eat away at your heart for as long as you allow it, and it will harden your heart against loving those most dear to you. I know this because I suffered such guilt when I thought you had died in Norfolk. I blamed myself because I demanded that you take me back to England, and I believed that if I had not made that demand we would not have been there for the British to shoot you. I carried that guilt for a long time, even considering ending my own life because I could not go on without you.” She looked at Grace. “It was because of our child that I went on; she saved my life. Whatever guilt you are feeling about the child Deidre carries, you must release it. As difficult as it is for me to acknowledge your other child, it is a fact. You are the child’s father, and the mother will not be capable of caring for the baby. She — or he — will have only you.”