From This Day Forward (8 page)

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Authors: Margaret Daley

Tags: #From This Day Forward: A Novel

BOOK: From This Day Forward
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“The same. Grandfather has never understood why healing people is important to me, and yet when a horse or one of his dogs becomes ill, he tends to them personally until they recover.”

“Probably because you are not doing what he wanted.” The same reason she was in this predicament right now. She refused to follow her father’s plan for her future. She thought she knew best.

“Probably.” He turned toward the front door still standing open. “Let’s go in. I know it has been a long day for the both of us.”

When she entered the house, the foyer spoke of the Stuart family’s wealth. Highly polished wood gleamed in the soft lighting of the interior. The richly ornate carpet beneath her feet matched some of the ones she had seen in the houses of the peers of the realm. Portraits in gilded frames adorned the walls as she climbed the curving staircase to the second floor.

Nathan gestured toward the last picture at the top. “That’s my father.”

She paused and studied it for a moment. The young man had blond hair like Nathan’s brother and sister and the same kind, dark brown eyes as well. His smile made her feel welcomed to Pinecrest. She looked to the right at the one before his father’s. “Is this your grandfather?”

“Yes.”

The same kind eyes as his son’s contradicted what she had heard about the man. What happened to change him? “When was this painted?”

“Each one was done when the eldest son was about thirty.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.”

“So yours should be up there.”

“It had been commissioned when”—Nathan swallowed hard—“when my father died and everything changed.”

The heaviness in her heart swelled into her throat. “It was not done?”

“No. I understand from Patrick that Grandfather has an artist coming next month to do his portrait. Patrick is now considered the eldest son.” The sense it did not matter to him didn’t carry over into the expression in his dark blue eyes.

“All you can do is offer your forgiveness. Perhaps, in time, he will see the wisdom in forgiving you.”

“It has been nearly five years. I don’t think time will make a difference, nor the fact that I forgave him years ago. He’s a hard man who does not bend to anyone.”

“Now you see why I cannot go home. My father and your grandfather have a lot in common.”

“Come. You need your rest.”

“You do not have lessons for me tomorrow, do you?” She infused humor into her voice, needing to lighten the mood.

“We may be home by afternoon.” He started down a long hallway, decreasing his pace in front of a door as he threw a glance toward it then picking his step back up. When he came to a halt at the far end, he faced her. “This is your room. I will be staying for the time being in my grandfather’s.” He gestured toward the door. “In case you need me.”

“I will be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Thank you for coming. I couldn’t leave you in the cabin by yourself overnight.”

The softness in his look doubled her heartbeat. Seeing him after being apart all day uplifted her spirits, which immediately frightened her. In a very short time, she had come to care about this man who had saved her on the road. She shouldn’t. “Well, you will have to leave me alone when I go to Dalton Farm.”

A frown descended. “About that—”

She raised her palm to stop his words. “Don’t. I will be going to my new home.” Then she fumbled for the handle and quickly slipped into her suite of rooms. A fire blazed in the fireplace, Maddy rocking Faith in front of it as she sang a lullaby to her.

This bedchamber was so different from the one at Nathan’s home. Its size alone rivaled the total size of the cabin. Heavy wine-colored draperies of damask were pulled closed over two large windows. Wallpaper with tiny roses covered the walls. A massive, four-poster bed of walnut dominated all the other pieces of furniture. Next to it sat a table with an oil lamp that made the room much brighter than candles, as though a dark shadow was not allowed in the bedchamber. A cozy warmth, which did not carry over into the rest of the house, suffused the area.

Maddy looked up and gave Rachel a huge smile. “Mr. Stuart told me he had a servant bring in a cradle and this rocking chair for us. Perhaps we can stay here for a while.”

Rachel crossed to the bed and pressed her hand down into the softness of the mattress, the feel of the brocade coverlet luxurious beneath her fingertips. “Don’t get used to this. We shall not be here long.” But looking around the room only underscored her longing to go home to England.

“How is he?” Patrick came into the dark bedchamber, stopping next to Nathan beside their grandfather’s bed.

“Better.” The raspy sound of the old man’s breathing mocked his words. “He’s now sleeping well. I put a poultice on his chest that seems to help some.”

“You need to sleep. I can stay with him. If he becomes worse, I will come get you.”

“No, I cannot sleep.” Although weariness dogged Nathan’s every step, being home brought back too many bittersweet memories for him to rest.

Patrick pulled a nearby chair closer to the bed and sat. “I miss talking to you. I wish you and Grandfather would—”

“Patrick, if you stay, I prefer not discussing what happened five years ago. It will not change the facts.”

“Have you ever tried to contact Mama?”

“Yes. The first year she was gone I wrote to her. I finally received a letter telling me that it was better she left before war broke out between our countries. She is English and wants to live in England.”

“I wrote her, too, and received the same type of letter. It is as if with Papa’s death and what Grandfather did, we don’t exist to her anymore. How can she do that? I saw Mrs. Gordon holding her baby, and I just don’t understand.”

“I cannot answer that.” A picture of his mother climbing into the carriage the day she left Pinecrest for good filled Nathan’s heart with the deep ache he had felt at the time. She wouldn’t listen to him when he pleaded for her to stay. She told him she wanted to go home to England, and now that her husband was dead, she finally could. It was not until later he had discovered that his grandfather had ordered her off the plantation. “I wish I had arrived at the dock before her ship sailed. I might have been able to do something about what occurred.”

“Defy Grandfather?”

Nathan twisted toward his younger brother. “Yes. I ended up doing that anyway.” The final incident with Eliza and her baby that had caused the rift completely to tear between Grandfather and him nudged forward in his mind. He shut it down lest he refuse to sit at the old man’s bedside and nurse him back to health. “I could not stay at Pinecrest, knowing that he had sent our mother away. She was the mistress here. Our father had been buried the day before.”

“What kind of man does that?”

A murderer. No, you shouldn’t think that. He is your grandfather, your kin
.
This discussion has to end.
“Tell me about the plantation. Do you like running Pinecrest?”

Patrick’s face transformed into a smile that glinted in his dark brown eyes, so like their father’s. “Yes. These past few weeks, with Grandfather not feeling well, I have been doing most of the managing. We are expanding our cotton fields. We will need more field hands. I’m going to Charleston to purchase ten more.”

“Purchase?” Nathan sprang to his feet. “I thought you felt as I do about slavery.”

“I do. I have convinced Grandfather to try a new way. I will pay the workers a wage, and they can buy their freedom. I wanted to give them their freedom, but Grandfather wouldn’t listen to me. He did agree to this. I will keep an account for each slave, and then if they want to stay on and work here, they will continue to be paid a fair wage for their labor.”

Nathan’s tension melted away as he stared at his little brother, a man of thirty. This very issue had driven him and his grandfather apart, leading to Eliza and her child’s death, and now Patrick had accomplished what he had tried to five years ago. “I’m glad one of us could make Grandfather see that owning slaves is wrong.”

“I wish he had listened to you. He has mellowed with age. With both Sarah and you gone, I think he’s lonely, but he will not admit it. He nags at me to find a wife and start a family before he dies.”

“Not a bad idea. Have you met anyone?”

“I have been too busy to look for a wife. Once I get the new fields planted and this new system working, I plan to. Seeing Sarah with Sean and now expecting another baby makes me want a family.”

Not me
. Then he would be responsible for them, and if he lost them, what would be left for him? He didn’t want to care for someone—not with all the people he had lost over the years, not with the fact his own mother would rather be in England than here with her family.

“There you are,” Patrick Stuart said, approaching Rachel in the overgrown garden at the side of the house. “What are you doing out here?”

Rachel pointed at a bright red flower poking its way out of the wild greenery covering the ground. “Look. This plant is trying to live even though it is being choked out by the weeds.” She bent and smelled its sweet fragrance. “Your mother had roses?”

“Yes, brought over from England. This one is blooming early. Usually I will see the flowers from it in late April.”

“I hope at my farm I shall have a place for flowers. When I look at them, it gives me such hope. What beauty in a sometimes ugly world. At Mansfield Manor I used to spend hours in our gardens. Mama always knew where to find me if I wasn’t in the house.” She straightened. “How is your grandfather this morning?”

“Much better. I’m sorry you had to delay your plans for two days, but I believe Grandfather is recovering because of Nathan’s presence.”

“So he can throw him off the plantation?” Rachel asked with a smile. “At least that is what Nathan thinks.”

“Partially that, but also because Nathan is a good physician. He pours everything into his patients. He’s determined that Grandfather is not going to die, and he isn’t—at least not from this illness.” Mr. Stuart glanced around him. “We really need to do something about this garden.”

“Nathan told me your grandfather did not want anyone to touch it.”

“Perhaps I can change his mind. If I find a wife, she will not want such an eyesore of an untended garden staring at her whenever she comes outside. That ought to motivate my grandfather to do something.”

“He wants you married?”

“Yes, so he knows his name will continue.”

“What about Nathan?”

“I guess he doesn’t think Nathan will ever marry. He may be right.”

Mr. Stuart’s statement bothered her. Rachel didn’t want to marry again either, but that was because she had once. Nathan had never wed. Perhaps marriage would agree with him even though it did not with her. “What has brought you out here?”

“You.”

She lifted her head and looked up into his dark brown eyes. “Me? Why?”

“ ’Tis time to break the fast, and Nathan is going to join us this morning.” He offered her his arm.

Rachel slipped her arm in his. “I was beginning to wonder if he had left Pinecrest after that first night.”

“You have kept yourself entertained?”

“Yes, I have been pestering your cook. She has shown me some of the dishes she prepares. I even walked to the stable to ask some questions of your workers.”

“Good. I don’t think Nathan would have stayed if you had not agreed to come to Pinecrest.” Mr. Stuart strolled with her toward the veranda.

“I have enjoyed myself, but it is time for me to go to Dalton Farm.”

After opening the front door, he swept his arm across his body, indicating she should go in first. “I have a gift for you to take with you.”

“I cannot take a gift from you.”

He crossed the large foyer to the dining room. “I am sending Amos to repair your cart. You will need one. Nathan said one of the wheels on yours is broken. Amos can replace it.”

Rachel opened her mouth to refuse the help but realized she was not in a position to decline someone repairing her cart. “Thank you.” Now if it were only possible for her to find her horse. If not, she would have to use her meager coins to buy an animal for the cart and a plow that one of Mr. Stuart’s workers showed her needed to be used for the fields.

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