Love in Three-Quarter Time (18 page)

CHAPTER 26

Patience's eyes all but popped from her head when she leaned through the open parlor window to investigate all the rattling and jangling outside. There sat her sister atop a wagon, tying her straw bonnet back in place.

First of all, what was Constance doing home? Second of all, could the lack of proper outerwear mean the old, wild Gingersnap had returned in her place? That girl never could remain properly dressed. But most important, who was that devastatingly handsome man beside her?

Patience had grown accustomed to city dandies and bookish fops. In fact, other than the white-haired Trader Jack, she couldn't recall ever seeing such a strong, virile specimen of a man. But unlike Jack's comical appearance, this man's rugged good looks made her heart race. She never would have thought reddish-gold hair could be so appealing on a male but matched with his scruff of a beard and roguish grin…

Sigh! What beautiful titian-headed children Patience might bear the man.

He hopped down in one fluid motion while Constance replaced her gloves. The man lifted a comely, dark-skinned, servant girl out of the wagon with ease. His corded muscles rippled against his buckskin leggings and rough linen shirt. Patience imagined the feel of them beneath her fingertips.

Patience Cavendish, stop that this instant!
The man clearly did not have two pennies to his name and beyond that might well be attached to her sister in some way. He reached up and helped Constance down. She tucked her hand at his elbow and snuggled against him with familiar affection. Yes, indeed, better to stop these rambling thoughts before they went further astray.

“Constance! Constance!” she hollered and waved.

“Patience!” Constance abandoned her companions and dashed up the stairs.

Patience met her in the entryway where they squealed and hugged and jumped in a circle. Before long Felicity and Mother heard them from the kitchen and hurried to join the homecoming, until they were one massive tangled embrace.

The enigmatic man poked his head through the doorway. “Miss Cavendish?”

“Lorimer. Come in, come in. Everyone, make way for my good friend, Lorimer, the circuit preacher.” She pulled him through the opening by his elbow.

A
preacher
! Well, never mind that. The man's abundant charms diminished by half at the mere mention of the word. Patience had little tolerance for religious sorts and had long since overcome her fascination with circuit riders. Thank goodness for Mr. Franklin and his rational thinking.

Then Constance ushered in the hesitant servant girl as well. “And this is my other new friend, Martha, one of the maids from White Willow Hall.” Constance gave the girl a squeeze.

Patience wondered at the familiar introduction, but Constance always had been inappropriately close with her maid, Sissy. And other than her darker skin, this girl bore a marked resemblance to Sissy. She supposed they must all accept it as part of Constance's charm, along with missing gloves, batting lashes, and temperamental outbursts. Patience was simply glad to see her sister's spritely spirit returned.

“Come in. Come in. All of you.” Mother waved a hand to the parlor. “Let's sit and you can tell us what on earth is happening here. Then we'll have some tea.”

Because every good Englishman knows tea fixes everything
, Patience thought as she smiled. Even daughters showing up out of the blue, seventy miles from where they belong.

Grammy teetered in to join them, and they all crowded together in the small room as Constance explained the situation. Patience perked up straight on her cushioned stool. The old Gingersnap had been a master of manipulation, yet more evidence that she'd returned in fine form while at White Willow Hall. Mother could hardly say no now. Something had happened in Charlottesville.

Something had changed.

“Just come for a visit, Mother. You'll earn more in a month than you would in a year here. It's the perfect opportunity to give Charlottesville a try, and Mrs. Beaumont is counting on you.” Constance wrinkled her nose and grinned. Patience had all but forgotten Gingersnap's charming little nose crinkle that suited its upturned shape to perfection. By his unmitigated stare, Patience surmised that Mr. Lorimer found it endearing as well.

“Oh please, Mummy, may we?” Felicity tugged at Mother's arm.

“I don't know. It's all too much to take in. We must leave tomorrow, you say. Goodness.” Mother's hands waved about.

“As soon as we purchase the materials. I must be back in time to begin my cotillion lessons on Tuesday,” said Constance.

“I'll stay 'ere and 'old down t' fort for thee.” Grammy thumped the arm of her rocker with resolve. “I can even finish up t' last of thy stitching and return it to Madam Whitby.”

“You see.” Constance leaned forward and clapped several times in quick succession. “It shall work.”

“Oh dear.” Mother bit at her bottom lip.

“Ma'am,” said this Lorimer character. “If you don't mind me saying so, it's time for a new start for this family. I've had a sense ever since I met your lovely daughter. As you can see with your own eyes, she's been blossoming like a wilted flower in the sunlight under the Beaumonts' care. I believe this is where you all belong.”

The man's eyes burned with some inner light that seemed to hold sway with Mother. He
sensed
. He
believed
. What rubbish. Either the decision was sound or it was not.

“I know you are right, Mr. Lorimer.” Mother crumpled her handkerchief in her hand and straightened it again as she considered the matter.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new.” The man intoned the words with an odd sort of mystical quality, as if he fancied himself some ancient oracle.

Balderdash! Now he spouted Scripture at them. If he were not arguing her side, Patience would give him a piece of her mind.

Yet his tactic worked its magic on Mother. “Aye! Of course! You certainly are good at your job, young man. I've been afraid to leave the past behind, afraid to leave this interlude of mourning. But you couldn't be more correct. It is indeed time for a new start.”

“And we'll be with you all the way, ma'am.” He leaned across the small table and gave Mother's hands a firm shake.

What an annoying man!
But even as Patience thought it, Mother stood to pack and sent Grammy to make them all tea.

“Miss Constance,” said the servant girl. “Would you mind if I be askin' something?”

“Of course not, Martha. You must consider yourself at home here.”

“What done happen to your funny accent? Ever since we walked through that door you've been soundin' like a regular old Yankee Doodle.”

Those remaining in the room burst into laughter as Constance turned pink.

“You sure is a heap o' trouble, miss. Like I always said.”

“We've all said as much.” Patience smiled. “It's just good to have her home.”

So they would go to Charlottesville, just as Patience dreamed. Oh, but how would she ever tell Mr. Franklin? He would arrive for dinner in an hour. She supposed he'd find out soon enough.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Franklin noticed the clues even as he climbed the steps to the porch. Too many voices. Too much frantic activity inside. He'd expected a quiet, cozy, family sort of dinner. He knocked and knew his summation had been correct when the door swung open hard and fast to reveal a brute of a man dressed in mountain clothing.

“You must be Mr. Franklin.” The tall fellow extended a meaty arm and shook Franklin's hand with too much force. “Lorimer here.” At least the creature was a friendly sort.

“A pleasure, I'm sure,” said Franklin, in fact, not at all certain that it was. “May I enquire as to the whereabouts of the Cavendish ladies?”

“Patience,” Lorimer boomed. “Your gentleman caller's arrived.”

Franklin raised his brows at the untoward familiarity.

Lorimer shrugged. “I gave up on calling all of them Miss Cavendish about a half hour ago. Too confusing.”

“Of course.” Franklin attempted to shoot a glare at the man through his spectacles and down his nose, although it proved difficult given their difference in stature of several inches.

Patience bustled in from the kitchen. “Oh,” she said with obvious distaste. “I see you've met Lorimer.”

He let out a silent sigh of relief. Good, she did not like the creature either, this fellow treading upon Franklin's territory with the Cavendish ladies.

“Yes, although I have not yet clarified who precisely he might be.”

“Come into the kitchen, darling.” Patience looped her arm through his arm. “I've so much to tell you. It will be easier there.”

Franklin didn't like the sound of that. Just as he'd surmised, something was indeed afoot.

Lorimer followed them through the narrow hall to the kitchen. As Franklin held open the swinging door for Miss Cavendish, a shocking sight met his eyes.

Miss Cavendish!

The
other
Miss Cavendish—Constance. His heart lunged in his chest before taking off like a horse at the races. He jumped toward her and let the door slam behind him.

“Ouch,” he heard Lorimer say, though it barely registered.

Letting go of Patience's arm, he rushed to Constance and took her hands in his. “Miss Cavendish, you've returned!”

Constance looked to Patience, then to her mother, but she pressed her lips together, not uttering a word. She withdrew her hands and stepped back.

With false gaiety, Patience stepped forward in her place. “We've some news to share with you, Mr. Franklin.” His face grew cold as the blood drained from it.

“Perhaps you should sit.” Patience led him to a kitchen chair.

“Yes.” He pulled at his cravat.

Patience knelt before him with a hand upon his knee. “We're leaving for Charlottesville. In the morning. Mother and Felicity and me.”

“Never say so.” The words emerged desperate, haunted.

“It will be all right, Mr. Franklin.” Patience patted him like a pet dog. “We've discussed this. It needn't mean an end for us. And we'll be back. This is a trial period. Grammy will stay in Richmond with our belongings.”

“And I promise to feed thee as always, lad.”

His gaze went to Constance. Hers was the face that had floated at the forefront of his mind for months. The face the lovely Patience had not yet managed to banish, no matter his resolve. He studied the curve of her rosy lips. The turn of her slender nose. The new smattering of freckles across it. Her eyes the color of coffee and just as stimulating.

A hand clamped about his shoulder like a vise. “You don't need to fear, Mr. Franklin. The benevolent hand of providence is involved. All things will work for the good.” That Lorimer creature again. His interference riled a spark in Franklin's otherwise frozen being. “I'm sorry. You are
who
to these ladies?”

Constance tucked her hand in the fellow's burly arm. “Mr. Franklin. Allow me to introduce my dear friend, Lorimer. He's a circuit preacher from Albemarle County.”

Perfect. He officially hated the oaf.

“And he escorted me here to fetch my family.” Constance somehow spoke with greater life and vitality than he remembered. “I've found them employment sewing fashionable gowns for a big ball in August. Isn't that splendid?”

Of course—she didn't know.

Constance would have no idea how he'd attached himself to her family in her absence. That he'd been courting her sister. And worse yet, that he still loved Constance herself. How could she know? He hadn't realized it until he'd walked through the swinging kitchen door.

And now she would leave. They would all leave. And he'd be alone once again.

* * *

Constance and Patience stripped down to their worn shifts and readied their side-by-side beds to sleep. As happy as Constance was to be home, somehow these little beds and little rooms no longer sufficed. As if she were Goldilocks in the bears' house, she thought,
This one is too small
. But she would never say so. And truth be told, she felt as happy sleeping on a corn husk mattress in Widow Shielding's cottage. So perhaps it was not a matter of size but rather a sense of being cramped in this unrelenting city.

Patience picked up a brush and plopped onto Constance's bed. “Sit,” she commanded.

Constance did so with pleasure, allowing Patience to remove the pins from her hair and let it fall. She remembered again how Robbie had called it a river of liquid fire. Shivering at the thought, she shoved it from her mind and focused on the nurturing ministrations of her sister.

“It's so good to have you back.” Patience brushed through the long tresses.

“It's so good to be with the family, although once you've seen Charlottesville, you'll understand that I could do without this city.”

“I can hardly wait,” Patience said.

Constance sighed at the feel of soft bristles upon her head and leaned into her sister.

“You silly girl,” Patience said. “You're like a cat. Cuddles one moment and claws the next. I'm so happy to see the old Gingersnap returned. If that's what Charlottesville has accomplished, then I have no doubt it shall do us all a world of good.”

“The old Gingersnap, but tempered and refined, I hope. I've learned so much from Lorimer. I dare say it is he as much as Charlottesville that's wrought this change.”

Patience rankled at the mention of Lorimer. “Are you in love with that creature?”

“Lorimer? No, although I admire him with all my heart. I almost wish I was.”

“Good, because despite his faint-worthy countenance, I like him not one whit.”