Judith E. French (31 page)

 

C
ailin allowed her footman Guy to assist her down from her coach onto the marble steps at the main entrance of the manor house. “Bring that large pigskin chest first,” she instructed the slender, tow-haired servant. “That has my gifts for Sterling and the children. Tell Robert that I said he is to help ye bring in the rest of my boxes. Be especially careful with the china, and remind Edgar that the new black and white pony is to be brought around to the garden after breakfast tomorrow. It’s a gift for wee Master Jasper’s birthday, and I want it to be a surprise. None of the bairns are to see the pony until then.”

“Yes, mistress, I’ll tell him.” He pursed his thin lips. “Won’t be easy keeping them out of the stables. Miss Kelsie spends so much time in the barn, Edgar says—”

“This time Edgar must be firm with my inquisitive daughter. He is the head groom. I want nothing to spoil Jasper’s birthday.”

Guy murmured a proper reply, bowed, and hurried back to enlist the coachman’s help in unloading her belongings.

Cailin paused for a moment and looked up at the house with a sudden rush of emotion. Home, she thought giddily. Her visit to Williamsburg had been exciting, with a never-ending round of parties and shopping, but after two weeks at her niece Cami’s magnificent home on the James River, she was ready to return to Sterling’s arms and the noisy clamor of her children.

Corey’s reports from his second year at William and Mary were excellent, and despite his late start at a real education, Cami’s husband, Sir Miles, had assured her that Corey had a real future as a barrister in Williamsburg. Corey had chosen not to come home this summer, but to remain behind with Fergus and assist Sir Miles’s solicitor in his office near the royal governor’s palace. Cami suspected that part of the attraction was a Miss Mary Randolph, but she’d met the girl and was well-pleased with her little brother’s choice in lassies.

Moonfeather and Brandon’s oldest daughter, Cami, had surprised everyone by marrying into one of Virginia’s finest families after the death of her first husband. Despite the distance between Scot’s Haven and Williamsburg, Cailin and Cami had become as close as any sisters. Cami had been among those who’d come to welcome Cailin to Scot’s Haven ten years ago. The two had gotten along well at once, and they’d continued their friendship by letters and regular visits.

Cami had been sorry to miss Jasper’s birthday fete on the morrow, but one of her stepdaughters was near lying-in, and Cami couldn’t get away. She promised to be with them in August for her mother’s birthday celebration at New Westover. Anne and Fiona would be there, as well as their husbands, children, and grandchildren, not to mention an assortment of Shawnee and Delaware Indian relations, most of whom Cailin had never been able to sort out.

Of course, both Anne and Moonfeather and their immediate families would be joining them for Jasper’s party. It never failed to thrill Cailin how dear her recently acquired sisters, nieces, nephews, and in-laws had become to her, and how important they were in everyday life in the Maryland Colony. Especially Brandon and Moonfeather, she mused ...

The double entrance doors swung open, and Hannah’s exclamation ended Cailin’s reverie. “Miss Cailin! What you doin’ standin’ out here like some poor relation? Has Guy lost his good sense, not openin’ the door for you? Welcome home, miss’us. We sure missed you.”

“It’s not Guy’s fault,” Cailin said. “And I missed all of you too.”

Sally, the newest maid, peered around Hannah’s substantial bulk and stammered an echo of the housekeeper’s warm greeting. “Welcome home, miss’us.” Hannah flashed her a withering glance, and Sally blushed and dropped to an awkward curtsy. “Miss’us.”

Cailin entered the spacious front hall and glanced around her. Everything seemed in place. Not like last time, when she’d come home to find Cameron’s pet fox chasing a hen up the grand staircase, and the time before that, when a clan of visiting Delaware Indians had taken up residence in the east wing.

She pulled off her gloves and dropped them on the hall table. The walnut finish gleamed, free of dust and small fingerprints. Cailin smiled. Hannah had been very busy in her absence. “Where’s Master Sterling? And the children?”

Sally shrugged and blinked. “Don’t know, miss’us.”

Cailin glanced at Hannah.

“We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow, miss. Master Jasper is across the river at New Westover. He spent the night with Lady Kentington’s grandsons.”

Cailin removed her wide-brimmed hat and handed it to Sally. “Kelsie’s nay in the house either?”

“No, miss’us,” Sally replied.

“Surely Nurse and the twins are—”

“No, Miss Cailin,” Hannah said. “Nurse Alice’s father took a bad turn last week, and she had to go ’cross the bay to tend to him.”

“Who’s been looking after the bairns? Becky?”

“Becky and Jane done most of the runnin’ after the big’uns,” Hannah said, “but Becky can’t do nothing with the twins when they get in one of them moods. The master has been takin’ charge.”

“Of the twins?” Cailin asked. “Sterling?” She couldn’t stifle a giggle. “Wasn’t he supposed to be meeting Baron Lee in Annapolis this week about the new tobacco shipments?”

“He said the baron would have to wait till you got home, miss,” Hannah said. Her own amusement was obvious. “He said that without Nurse Alice here, he wouldn’t set a foot offen this place until you got back.”

Cailin walked into the dining room. The table was set for the evening meal; an arrangement of fresh flowers adorned the Irish hunt board. The odor of baking bread drifted from the kitchen wing. The room was immaculate, the fireplace brass shone, and new candles stood in the silver candlesticks. A yellow tabby cat dozed in a woven basket on the hearth. Not a single child’s boot or discarded toy marred the chamber’s perfection.

“Have my children all been kidnapped by pirates?” Cailin declared. Order was a nice change, but the house was too perfect—too quiet. “Are they all well, Hannah? No one’s sick?” A pang of guilt tugged at her conscience. The twins were only fifteen months old; she’d never left them for more than a single night before. She’d only gone without the children because one of Cami’s daughters had had the chicken pox, and Jasper had been so sick with the pox two years before, she hadn’t wanted the littlest ones to be exposed yet.

“No, miss.” Hannah beamed. “They’re as full of spit and ginger as ever. Miss Kelsie put molasses in Master Cameron’s riding boots, and he glued her new hat to the nursery table. Baby Leah ate half a moth yesterday morn, and the other twin—”

“Enough, Hannah!” Cailin cried in exasperation. “Not a thing happens on Scot’s Haven that ye dinna know. Where is my husband? And where are my bairns?”

“I did hear some whooping coming from the far end of the orchard,” Hannah admitted. “But that was a while ago.”

“We’ll see,” Cailin replied. She went back into the hall and hurried through the house and out the back garden entrance. Down the steps she went, then followed the path past the boxwood maze and the statue walk, and through the opening in the hedge to the lane that led to the peach orchard.

Seth, the head gardener, raised his hat as she passed. “Welcome home, mistress,” he called.

“Have you seen my husband?” she asked.

His plain Welsh face split in a grin, and he pointed toward the river. “I’d be careful if I was you, ma’am,” he warned. “Sounds like some mighty fierce Injuns down there.”

As she started through the peach trees, two black and white half-grown pups and their mother, Flo, came running up to wag their tails and demand her affection. Cailin crouched down and rubbed heads all around. “Someone’s glad to see me at least,” she murmured.

Overhead, a mockingbird trilled its cheery song. She looked up to catch a glimpse of it through the new leaves. Peach blossoms were drifting down around her, landing on her head and dress and filling the air with a heavenly aroma. Several black-faced sheep grazed at the base of the trees. None seemed concerned enough about the dogs to look up from their steady munching.

“I’m getting close,” Cailin said. “Wherever the dogs are, my bairns aren’t far away.” She quickened her pace, eager for Sterling’s embrace and the sweet, sticky hugs and kisses of her babes. “Sterling!” she called. “Kelsie? Where are ye?”

Another pup, yipping with excitement, scrambled out of the trees to join the pack trailing after Cailin. The smallest of the last litter, this one was pure black with a white spot on his nose. He was Kelsie’s favorite. She’d named him Midnight, Silky, Lucky, and Lancelot in turn. Cailin wondered if the pup had gotten another new name in her absence.

At the far end of the orchard was a gentle slope and another hedge. Beyond that, ancient oak and beech trees grew down to the river. The trees were so big that the branches formed an intertwined canopy overhead, leaving the moss-covered forest floor clear of underbrush, and creating a natural park.

As Cailin stepped through the arch of hedge, she looked around for her family. To her disappointment, the place seemed empty. “Sterling?” she called again.

Silence. Then, she heard one childish giggle.

A Shawnee war whoop screeched in her ear as a feathered and painted Sterling leaped out from behind the hedge and grabbed her. Immediately, Kelsie and Cameron popped out from behind trees and threw themselves at their mother.

“Where are my babies?” she demanded, amid the hugs and shouts. “What have you done with—”

A sheepish-looking maid backed out from behind a beech tree with a squirming toddler under each arm. Cailin took one look at Becky’s war-painted face and chicken-feather headdress and burst out laughing.

“Weren’t my idea, Miss Cailin,” Becky protested. “Miss Kelsie—”

“Come to Mama!” Cailin cried, holding out her arms for the twins. Johnnie spied his mother and began to giggle. Little Leah squealed with delight. Becky thrust both of them into Cailin’s embrace. The added weight was enough to throw the lot of them off balance, and Sterling, Cailin, and the children fell down on the thick moss carpet in a flurry of arms and legs.

As usual, confusion reigned at first, but eventually the squirming mass came to rest. Cailin lay back in the circle of Sterling’s arms and rested her head against his chest. Babies and bairns surrounded them, all, Cailin noticed, streaked with yellow and blue paint and wearing various items of Shawnee apparel. The twins had circles of paint around each eye and beads woven into their dark hair. Kelsie’s mass of unruly red hair was confined with a beaded headband, and she was weighed down by one of Sterling’s ceremonial hunting shirts.

“Ye didna miss me at all, did ye?” Cailin teased.

“What did you bring us, Mama?” Kelsie demanded.

“Daddy said you weren’t coming until tomorrow,” Cameron added, pulling Johnnie onto his lap. Leah yanked at Cailin’s earring, and her twin began to chew on a chicken feather. Somehow, a pup squirmed into the center of the pile and began to lick Kelsie’s cheek.

“I’m here today, and I brought presents,” Cailin said. “Shall I go away and come back tomorrow?”

“No!” the two oldest shouted in unison.

“Nay!” Johnnie crowed.

“Aye,” little Leah cried.

“Since you’re here, woman, I suppose we’ll keep you,” Sterling teased. He tilted Cailin’s chin and kissed her lips tenderly. “We’ve been lost without you,” he added huskily. “You are the heart and soul of this family.”

She sighed, savoring the joy of having her loved ones close around her. She was sorry that Jasper wasn’t home as well, but he’d be back later, and his visit to Moonfeather’s would make it easier to keep his birthday pony a secret until tomorrow. He wasn’t the only one who would be surprised, she thought, unconsciously touching her already thickening waist. She had something wonderful to tell Sterling as well ... but that could wait until they were alone in bed tonight.

“I love ye all,” she said happily. “I think I love ye all more each time I come home.”

Sterling kissed her again.

“Daddy,” Cameron admonished, “Mama brought us presents. Can’t we—”

“All things in good time,” Sterling answered. “Right now is time for hugging.” He put both arms tightly around Cailin and clasped her tightly against him.

You’re the light of my life, he thought passionately. You always were, from the first moment I laid eyes on you in my vision years ago. You’re my strength and my guardian angel, and I’d never want to live a day without you. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Any chance we can get away from the children for an hour?”

She laughed. “Not a chance,” she answered.

“Later,” he promised her, “I have something for you.”

“And I have something for you,” she said. Cameron tugged anxiously at his hand. “Daddy, come on. I want to see what—”

Kelsie pulled at her mother. “We want to see what Mama brought us.”

Cailin winked at him mischievously. “Later,” she murmured.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

Still laughing merrily, she rose and lifted Johnnie in her arms. Sterling scooped up baby Leah and followed Cailin and the other children back up the rise into the peach orchard and into the full light of another day.

 

 

 

 

Book One in the Fortune Trilogy
Coming soon from eKensington

 

 

—DANIEL DEFOE