Enchantress (25 page)

Brittany nodded her golden head. “I can see that. Would you consider teaching me?”

The woman’s proud head raised up, and she stuck out her chin. “You the new missus?”

Brittany smiled. “I am sorry, I did not introduce myself. I am Brittany, Thorn’s wife.”

“Thought so.” The dark eyes softened. “That Master Thorn, he was always a good one. His pa is good, too. The old master always let me sell my baskets and keep the money.”

Brittany dropped down on the doorstep, startling the old woman. “What is your name?” she asked.

“My name’s Esmeralda,” she stated. “Now ain’t that a fancy name for such as me?”

“It’s a very pretty name.”

Esmeralda was beginning to lose some of her suspicion of Brittany. “I’ve seen many changes in my life. My birthday’s in two months, and I’ll be a hundred and two. Now ain’t that a great amount of time to live?”

“That is splendid, Esmeralda. Your birthday should be worthy of a great celebration.”

“Yes’em, it should. If the old master wasn’t ailing, he’d plan a gathering and have us all singing and dancing, and I reckon there would be a goodly amount of food.”

“I have not yet met my father-in-law,” Brittany said sadly, “but I know how ill he is, and how concerned Thorn is about him.”

Intelligent old eyes that had seen much in life pierced Brittany. “You ain’t from around here, ’cause I’d a’knowed about it iffen you was.”

“No, I was not born in this country.”

“Thought so. Iffen you was born in the South, you wouldn’t be so friendly with the likes of me, and you wouldn’t be sitting beside me, neither.”

Brittany was startled. “Why ever not? What have you done wrong?”

Esmeralda rolled her eyes. “Don’t you know the white folks from the big house don’t socialize with the slaves? It just ain’t done.”

Brittany smiled at the old woman and drew an answering toothless smile. “My husband would tell you that I never do what’s expected of me.” She ran her finger along the rim of a straw basket. “Now show me how to make this. I want to do something useful today.”

Esmeralda chuckled. She was old enough not to fear speaking her mind. “You sure are going to set them on their ear at the big house. I wish I could’a seen the mistress’s face when she met you for the first time. Yes’em, that must have been a right nice sight.”

Brittany wrinkled her nose. “I do not think Mrs. Stoddard liked me very well.”

The old slave’s eyes were intense. “You have a care where she is concerned now. It just ain’t good to poke a stick at a snake.”

Brittany hid a smile. She did not think she should encourage Esmeralda’s assessment of Thorn’s stepmother, even though she agreed with the old woman.

She picked up the basket Esmeralda had been working on, and attempted to poke the straw through the loose weave. “As you will find out, Esmeralda, I have a habit of finding trouble and always doing the wrong thing.”

Esmeralda had never shared the secret of her craft with anyone but her daughter and her granddaughters. But now she took the young mistress’s hands and guided them. “You take the long yellow grasses—they’re called bulrushes—and just do what I do. Have a care now, they’re sharp.”

At first Brittany’s hands were clumsy, and she cut her fingers several times. But she was determined to learn the craft. Soon she and Esmeralda were laughing and talking like old friends, and she was learning about Stoddard Hill.

As the morning progressed, several of the other women
gathered around, astonished that the young mistress should take the time to be kind to old Esmeralda. But more astonishing still was that old Esmeralda seemed to like Master Thorn’s wife.

At last Brittany proudly held the finished basket up for all to inspect, while Esmeralda nodded in approval.

Suddenly Brittany looked at the position of the sun and saw that it was late afternoon. She stood up, dreading the thought of going back to that house and facing Thorn’s stepmother.

“Thank you, Esmeralda, for your patience.” She held the basket out to the old woman, but Esmeralda pushed her hand away.

“You keep the basket. Show it to Master Thorn.” She chuckled. “And tell him old Esmeralda thinks he married well.”

Brittany clutched the basket in her hands and smiled at the old woman. “I hope he already knows that, but if he does not, I’ll tell him you said so.”

As several pairs of black eyes watched Brittany move toward the big house, Esmeralda muttered under her breath, “There’s a’gonna be trouble coming—I can feel trouble in these ole bones.”

“There’s a’gonna be trouble for sure,” one of the other woman agreed. “Mistress Wilhelmina ain’t gonna like no pretty young woman messing round here.”

Esmeralda nodded. “I think I’ll just keep an eye on the big house. If any of you see any unusual happenings, report them to me. I don’t want nothing to happen to the little mistress.”

When Brittany entered the house, she carried the basket Esmeralda had helped her weave as if it were a priceless treasure.

Wilhelmina heard Brittany in the hall, and came out of the parlor, her face livid with anger. “Where have you been? I disrupted the whole house hold to search for you.”

Brittany glanced behind Wilhelmina and saw a man staring at her. She held out her treasure for inspection. “I have learned to craft a basket.”

Wilhelmina went into peals of uproarious laughter. “How quaint.” She turned to the man beside her. “Dr. Cross, this is Thorn’s little wife. It seems there is no end to this girl’s talents. See, she has made a basket.”

Brittany felt the sting of the older woman’s ridicule, but she did not know the reason for it. She had never known anyone who would deliberately set out to hurt another. Her head came up, and she faced the slender, bold man who looked her over from head to toe.

“I am pleased to meet you, Dr. Cross. How is my father-in-law?”

Wilhelmina saw George Cross’s eyes widen with admiration as he held his hand out to Brittany. When Brittany did not offer him her hand in return, he awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I am delighted to meet you, Mrs. Stoddard. I only wish it had been under happier circumstances. I regret to tell you that my patient is not doing well at all.”

Brittany’s eyes clouded with sadness, and she looked at
Wilhelmina. “I am so sorry. If there is anything I can do to help you, please tell me.”

Brittany’s genuine concern served to further fuel Wilhelmina’s anger. “What can you or any of us do? I fear Ben has not long to live.”

“If you will excuse me, I will go to my room,” Brittany said.

Wilhelmina blocked her path, and asked in a demanding voice: “When will Thorn be home?”

“Not before dark. Do you feel the need to send for him?”

Wilhelmina considered for a moment, and she smiled to herself. Perhaps it would be better if Thorn was away from Stoddard Hill when his father died. “No, that will not be necessary. Run along to your room and wait for your husband.” Wilhelmina sneered. “Perhaps Thorn will be a more attentive lover tonight—but don’t count on it.”

Brittany pushed past Thorn’s stepmother, needing to get away from her vicious tongue. Her heart was heavy as she moved up to the second floor.

She stopped before Mr. Stoddard’s door, wishing there was something she could do to help. When she reached Thorn’s bedroom, she sank down in a chair, feeling defeated for the first time in her life. Not even when she had been captured by the Turks had she felt this utter devastation. Was it possible that Thorn and Wilhelmina had been lovers? What if they still were?

She refused to dwell on such troubling possibilities, but thought instead of her mother and Simijin—how she missed them. Her thoughts turned to Achmed. Where was he? Was he even alive?

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She also was worried about a man she had never met and could not even put a face to. She hoped fervently that Thorn’s father would recover, but the doctor had not been encouraging. She pitied the poor man, for apparently his wife was not overly concerned about him. In fact, Wilhelmina seemed only concerned about her own comforts.

Wilhelmina whirled around and faced George Cross. “I will not have that girl here,” she raged. “How dare Thorn do this to me.”

The doctor’s face was a mirror of amusement. “I don’t believe Thorn has done anything against you. I think rather he has made that enchanting creature his wife for reasons of his own. I can’t say I blame him.”

Wilhelmina’s eyes sparked with unleashed anger. “I would expect you to think her kind beautiful. I saw you fawning over her like some sniveling schoolboy.”

George Cross wisely changed the subject. “The old man is getting weaker. Considering the amount of poison I am administering to him, he should be out of your way within a week—perhaps sooner.”

Wilhelmina paced back and forth. “Can’t you get rid of him sooner? I hate the thought of him lingering, day after day, night after night.”

George looked sideways at Wilhelmina. “Can it be that you care for the old man?”

She eyed him as if he had lost his senses. “Don’t be absurd. I married him to get even—” She shook her head. “Never mind that now. I have never cared for Ben. He has always compared me less favorably to his first wife.” An evil smile tugged at her lips. “I will just help him along so he can be with his precious Margaret in death.”

George studied her closely. “Why did he marry you?” He smiled suggestively. “Other than the obvious reason.”

She licked her lips and moved closer to him. “Let’s just say that I set out to get him. It didn’t take much persuasion to convince him that I would make him happy. I dazzled him with my…smile.” Her eyes became wild. “I hated every time he touched me. I will be glad when he’s dead!”

George watched as her face became distorted with rage. Where was the beauty in her that had first attracted him? He did not underestimate her seductive powers, though. When she became soft and yielding, he became her slave.

She dropped down in front of him and slid her hand up his arm, pressing her body against his. “Soon we will be together, George. Then I will be your reward, and Stoddard Hill will be mine.”

For the first time, there was a note of doubt in his voice. “There are too many people who stand between you and what you want. When we first thought of this plan, there was only the old man. Now that number has increased by two. And if there should be a child…”

Wilhelmina scrambled to her feet and whirled around, her breasts heaving, her eyes wild. “I will brush them all out of my way as I would a gnat. Nothing can keep me from what I desire. Stoddard Hill belongs to me!”

George Cross stood up and pulled her into his arms. “When you get that look in your eyes, you are the most exciting woman I have ever known. I have consented to do murder to please you, but will I ever possess you?”

She glanced at his thinning blond hair and a face that was beginning to show the results of his overindulgence of strong spirits. George was more often than not drunk, and she could not see her future linked with his. No, he was not the man to help her run Stoddard Hill once it fell into her hands.

When he dipped his head to kiss her, she looked into small gray eyes, but her thoughts were of eyes as blue as the sky that hung over Stoddard Hill. She knew deep inside that Thorn had always been in her heart, and now that he had returned, he was never out of her thoughts for long.

She felt repulsed when George’s hands ran over her hips and he pressed her closer to him. She shuddered at his touch, but she would endure what she must to gain what she wanted. When he covered her mouth with his, she pretended it was Thorn’s lips on hers, but she could not delude herself.

She shoved George away and moved a few paces from him. “Are you crazed? Do you want someone to walk in and find us like this?”

He smiled apologetically. “You go to my head and make me forget to be cautious.”

She picked up his high-brimmed hat and handed it to him. “It would be best if you leave now.”

He looked regretful. “Must I?”

“Yes, we don’t want to do anything that will call attention to us or cast suspicion on our actions.” She hesitated before she added, “I have decided it will be unwise for you to come to my bedroom at night. From here on out, we will see each other only in the presence of others, and then you must try to restrain yourself.”

She saw the disappointment in his eyes. “How will I live if I can’t hold you in my arms?”

Wilhelmina pushed down her revulsion. She had always detested a man who behaved like a fawning dog. “It will be difficult for us to be apart,” the lie came easily to her lips, “but we will spend the rest of our lives together. Now go, before someone begins to wonder why you stayed so long.”

As George moved away from Wilhelmina, she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could shut out the image of his face. She wondered how she could bear to have that man make love to her again. Climbing into bed with Dr. George Cross was a high price to pay, she thought, but she would do what she must to gain Stoddard Hill.

Brittany found it difficult to remain in the house because there was so much to discover on the vast and beautiful grounds. Although the gardens were suffering from neglect, they were still extraordinary, and she could see the shadow of their former beauty.

She was walking down a well-worn path toward the river when she heard quickening steps echo along a cobbled lane just behind her. She paused and waited for whomever it was to catch up with her.

When Thorn came into sight, she felt her heart skip a beat. He looked so handsome in his buff trousers and a pale-yellow shirt. His dark hair was windswept, and his eyes were soft as he looked at her.

“So I find you taking a stroll among the flowers.” He
glanced down at the weed-choked flower garden. “I see you are enjoying the tulips.”

She reached out and touched a crimson bloom that bobbed delicately from the slight breeze that came off the river. “Many people associate the tulip with Holland, but Simijin told me that tulips originated in Turkey and were transplanted in Holland in the sixteenth century—did you know that?”

He smiled. “I do not believe I was aware of that. Is there no end to your knowledge?”

She looked up at him doubtfully. “Does it displease you that I speak of matters that Simijin taught me?”

“Not at all. I will always want you to speak your mind with me. And never hide your knowledge from me. I told you before, I find your intelligence refreshing.”

He took her hand and guided her down the wide path until they stood looking out on the curve of the river.

“Have you any news of Achmed?” she asked at last, knowing that he did not or he would have told her right away.

“No. But do not lose heart. He could not have just disappeared without a trace, and there are several people looking for him.”

“I try not to think that he might have come to harm.”

“I do not believe anyone would want to harm Achmed,” Thorn told her.

“The Turkish admiral would.”

“I thought of that myself, but on checking with the harbormaster, I found that no Turkish ship has docked in Charleston.”

She tried to present a brave face to him. “How is your father?”

His eyes saddened. “Not good. I am sorry that he is not well enough for you to be presented to him. I think you would like him. I know he would like you.”

“I am sorry, too, Thorn. Perhaps he will improve in time.”

He looked at her doubtfully. “I don’t think so, Brittany. It is apparent to me that he is very ill.”

She met his eyes. “I met your stepmother today.”

His eyes seemed to harden, and Brittany wondered what he was thinking. “Did you?”

“Yes. When I awoke, she was standing over me. I believe I was a shock to her.”

“Undoubtedly,” Thorn replied dully. His hand seemed to tighten on hers. He quickly changed the subject. “This hasn’t been much of a honeymoon for you, has it?”

She smiled impishly. “It has been a honeymoon without a bridegroom.”

“I am sorry,” he told her regretfully. “I promise to make it up to you.” His eyes became suggestive, and she blushed and glanced back out to the river.

“Will you be staying with your father again tonight?”

“Yes. I feel a need to be with him in the event that he might awaken.”

“Thorn,” she said, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “I have been giving our situation a great deal of thought. Neither of us came into this marriage with glowing hopes for the future.”

His lips thinned. “Did we not?”

“No. We were not motivated by any great burning love for one another.”

He released her hand. “We both agreed our marriage would be for mutual convenience.” He searched her eyes. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No, not at all. I am merely trying to assure you that you do not have to entertain me, and you need not feel guilty for remaining at your father’s bedside. I am well aware that you have heavy responsibilities. Please do not worry about me; I can fend for myself.”

He smiled and enfolded her in his arms. “I will always worry about you. I fear that if I turn my back on you for even a moment that you will have fallen into some new misfortune.”

Although he could not see her face, he felt her stiffen. “Thorn, I do not look for trouble. It is just that I am finding
the world outside Simijin’s palace is confusing, and I never knew how protected I had been. I don’t always know the right thing to do.”

He raised her face and brushed a golden curl away from her cheek. “I want to see that you go on being protected. I will never allow anything to harm you.”

“I feel safe with you, Thorn.” She could see that he was troubled about something.

“You need not be concerned about your safety as long as you are here at Stoddard Hill.” His eyes blazed. “I regret to tell you that I have to go away for a few days.”

She inhaled sharply. “Where must you go?”

“I have been informed by the United States Government that I must appear before the Senate with a full report on the confrontation between myself and the Turkish ships. It seems a complaint was launched by Sultan Selim himself. He claimed that I attacked and sank his ships without provocation.”

Her eyes were sad, knowing it was because of her that he now faced this dilemma. “Will there be problems?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assured her.

“Oh, Thorn, I am so sorry. I seem to bring you nothing but trouble.”

He took her hand and led her back toward the house. “That may be, but at least I have never known a dull moment since you came into my life.”

She looked down at her satin-clad feet, hurrying her pace to keep even with him. “Perhaps I can go to Washington with you to explain what happened. It was my fault that you were fired upon and had to retaliate.”

He arched his brow at her. “No. You will stay here until I return.”

She nodded. He knew best. “When will you leave, Thorn?”

“Tomorrow. It’s just that I don’t want to leave my father at this time.” He shrugged. “I’m certain I can clear everything up.”