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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Love Stories, #Historical, #Nannies, #Historical Fiction, #Virginia, #Virginia - History - Colonial Period; Ca. 1600-1775, #Indentured Servants

Petals on the River (29 page)

BOOK: Petals on the River
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Shemaine, and I'd like you and Andrew to go with me." He didn't dare

leave them when Roxanne could come back and assault the girl.
 
"One of

my men brought word this morning that there's a widow visiting in the

area who wants to meet with me about ordering a hutch.
 
If she does,

I'll have enough funds to pick up a few supplies for the ship and order

you a pair of shoes."

 

Shemaine was astounded by his generosity.
 
"I told you before, Mr.

Thornton.
 
I'm quite content wearing what you've already given me.

 

I don't need another pair."

 

Gage finally managed a small quirk of a grin.
 
"Unfortunately, the

slip-slap of your slippers flapping at your heels is enough to drive a

sane man mad.
 
Now go, woman, and get yourself dressed.
 
And be quick

about it."

 

Shemaine's own smile was no less than dazzling.
 
"Yes, sJr.

 

Still, she paused at the door to kick off the slippers and, gatherXng

them in her hand, tossed back a laughing glance as she ran from the

room.
 
Her effervescent spirit was contagious, and as Gage stepped into

the parlor to mark her flight, he realized his mood was already pulling

free of that dark morass that had so recently imprisoned It.

 

.

 

 

CHAPTER 6

 

Newportes Newes had been founded by an Irishman a hundred years earlier

and had originally been settled by more of the same.
 
Shemaine would

have probably felt right at home in the hamlet had she known the

inhabitants better, but after first coming in contact with Mrs.

Pettycomb and Roxanne, she had good cause to be cautious.
 
Then, too,

she wasn't sure how the populace of the small hamlet would receive her

once word got around that she was a convict from Newgate Prison.
 
And in

light of Mrs.
 
Pettycomb' s indiscretion, Shemaine could assume the news

had already reached every ear.

 

A small, white-haired woman had just taken leave of the general store

when Gage drew the wagon to a halt in front of it.
 
He jumped down to

tether the horse to a nearby hitching rail and, upon facing the elder,

touched the brim of his hat politely.

 

"Good morning, Mrs.
 
McGee."

 

"An' a right fair good mornin' ta ye, Gage Thornton," she bade cheerily,

leaning on a cane as she approached him.
 
"What brings ye ta our fair

hamlet on this fine, bright day, an' yer bold, handsome self escortin'

such a pretty young stranger an' yer wee, fine son?"

 

Gage embellished his own words with an impressive Irish brogue. "Ah,

twould be rare indeed ta find in this whole wide world a colleen

prettier than the widow Mary Margaret McGee."

 

"Ha!" The woman tossed her fine head in disbelief as Gage lifted Andrew

down from the wagon, but her bright blue eyes twinkled with pleasure

nevertheless.
 
"Do ye expect a clever woman like meself ta believe yer

winsome lies, ye good-lookin' devil?" she queried impertinently.
 
"I'll

not have ye be thinkin' I'm like all those other addlepated fillies who

drool every time they espy ye comin' inta the hamlet.

 

But tis good o' ye ta visit us so's I can see for meself what ye've

done.
 
I've been hearin' such wild rumors bout ye, I came nigh ta

hitchin' up me shay an' drivin' out ta yer cabin just ta see if they be

true." Her gaze settled on Shemaine, and as if deciding a matter in her

mind, she slowly nodded.
 
"Aye, the gossipmongers have done her justice.

 

A bogtrotter, so I've heard from one sour soul who's been in the tavern

sippin' whiskey for nearly half a day." She waved an elegant hand,

casually indicating the establishment next door.
 
Then her grin widened

to show an unmarred set of small, white teeth.
 
"Ta be sure, had the

callused oaf been more me size, I'd have whittled him down with me cane

for slanderin' such a noble race as the Irish an' callin' the lot o' us

bogtrotters .
 
.
 
.
 
as if that clumsy codfish the'er saw a marsh in all

o' England!"

 

Shemaine's trepidation rapidly vanished at the irresistible humor of

Mrs.
 
McGee.
 
The widow was certainly a pleasant surprise after her

first two encounters with the citizens of the hamlet.
 
The woman

inspired some hope that there were others of a similarly delightful

nature in the area.

 

Mary Margaret gestured imperiously, silently commanding Gage to lend

assistance to the girl.
 
"What?
 
Have ye forgotten yer manners, fine

sir?
 
Or would ye be thinkin' since she's yer bondswoman she'd be havin'

no need o' yer help ta get down from a wagon?"

 

Suffering a bit of chagrin beneath the woman's good-spirited needling,

Gage faced the conveyance and, flicking his eyes briefly upward,

beckoned Shemaine across the seat.
 
As he slipped his hands about her

slender waist and swept her to the boardwalk, Shemaine noticed that his

face had taken on a ruddy hue beneath the bronze, as if he were abashed

at the possibility that she might think him rude or uncouth.
 
It did

strange things to her heart to perceive that boyish quality in such a

stalwart man.
 
Obviously he cared about her impression of him.

 

"Madam, may I present Miss Shemaine O'Hearn to you," Gage announced,

whisking his hat off with debonair flair.
 
Even so, he had to drag his

thoughts away from the realization of just how close his fingers had

come to encircling the girl' s waist.
 
Even thin, she had more curves

than a cabinetmaker could work into a serpentine scroll. He swept a hand

gallantly to indicate the elder.
 
"Shemaine, this grand lady is perhaps

the most notable member of our small community, the undeniably

dignified, sweet-tempered widow, Mrs.
 
Mary Margaret McGee." "Ah, go on

with ye!" Mary Margaret chortled, and waved awayhis extravagant flattery

with a graceful flourish of a fine-boned hand.

 

Facing the younger woman, she smiled kindly and clasped Shemaine's thin

hand in her own.
 
"'Tis a pleasure ta make yer acquaintance, dearie, an'

if there be none other in this hamlet who has done so, may I say welcome

ta ye."

 

"Your kindness is greatly appreciated, madam," Shemaine responded with

genuine honesty.

 

Mary Margaret lifted an inquiring gaze to the tall man who now stood

holding his son in his arms.
 
"Would a fine gentleman like yerself be

opposed ta an old widow takin' yer bondswoman off ta meet a few o' the

inhabitants o' this hamlet?"

 

Gage cocked a wondering brow as he met the woman's stare.
 
Then he

scanned the street, spying several young bachelors who were much closer

to the girl's age than he was.
 
Though he was fond of the elder, he was

certainly not blind to her romantic bent.
 
She had already arranged at

least three marriages between newly arrived members of the Irish race

and long-established residents of the hamlet.
 
He would not take it

kindly if she encouraged some fellow to start pestering him about

selling the girl.
 
"I'll leave Shemaine to your care, Mary Margaret, but

I beg you not to create mischief behind my back."

 

The woman displayed a fair bit of indignation.
 
"Now what kind o'

mischief would ye be thinkin' a helpless widow like meself might be

capable o' doin', Gage Thornton?"

 

He remained implacable.
 
"You have the subtle wiles of a matchmaker,

Mary Margaret, and I'll not have you plucking some young swam's

heartstrings to win sympathy for my bondswoman.
 
In short, I won't be

selling her to some infatuated Romeo so he can take her to wife.
 
Do I

make myself clear?"

 

Mary Margaret curbed a desire to smile in sweet contentment as she

raised an elegant brow in feigned innocence.
 
"What say ye, Mr Thornton?

 

Should I be thinkin' ye've cast yer sights on this one yer self?"

 

Gage struggled to remain unruffled beneath the woman's steadfast stare.

 

"Think what you will, Mary Margaret, but if you would wish to remam my

friend, have a care how you conduct yourself with my property."

 

The elder dipped her elegant head in acknowledgment.
 
"Yer warning is

well taken, sir.
 
I shall take special care."

 

l .

 

"Good!" With a curt nod, Gage left them and carried Andrew into the

general store.

 

Smiling thoughtfully, Mary Margaret turned and, resting her dainty hands

upon the handle of her cane, gave Shemaine a slow, exacting perusal.

"Ye're a pretty thing, ta be sure," she stated at last.
 
"No doubt, with

ye gainin' a place in Mr.
 
Thornton's household, ye'll soon be the envy

o' every young maid an' spinster livin' in the area.
 
I can only hope

they don't get too green-eyed mean over ye hookin' the finest fish in

the sea.
 
They've been tryin' ta catch that fine, sleek grayling in

their nets for nigh the whole year past.
 
There's one in particular I

should warn ye bout, but then, mayhap ye've already met her."

 

Carefully avoiding the curious stare the elder had settled upon her,

Shemaine feigned naivete.
 
"I'm not exactly sure whom you mean, madam."

 

Mary Margaret regarded Shemaine with unyielding persistence until she

regained that one's cautious attention.
 
"I perceive, dearie, that ye're

an intelligent girl, and there's no need for me to explain. Watch

yerself with Roxanne," she advised.
 
"She's been moonstruck over yer

master for some time now, perhaps as long as eight or nine years,

certainly well before he met an' married Victoria.
 
Lately Roxanne has

had everyone in the hamlet believin' that Gage intended ta marry her,

what with the way she's been outfittin' her trousseau an' talkin' bout

him as if he were her very own.
 
If yer master doesn't wed her, she'll

be blamin' ye for causin' the split.
 
If he does, then ye'll likely be

BOOK: Petals on the River
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ads

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