Petals on the River (39 page)

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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

BOOK: Petals on the River
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you'd like, I can make inquiries about the nature of the man from some

of the townspeople who know him better."

 

"I'd be grateful, Mr.
 
Thornton.
 
Annie has been hurt in so many ways.

I'd like to see her able to enjoy her work and be content with her

life."

 

"I'll see what I can find out."

 

A serving wench came to their table and, in a bored tone, announced the

fare.
 
"We've got Burgoo and biscuits.
 
Take em or leave em."

 

 
| "We'll take em," Gage informed her, and then gestured toward Andrew.

"Not so much for the boy."

 

"Burgoo and biscuits?" Shemaine repeated in confusion after the woman

had left.
 
She had chewed on a few hard biscuits in the dank hole of the

London Pride, but the word burgoo meant nothing to her.

 

Gage responded with a casual shrug.
 
"Burgoo is a stew made with

different meats and vegetables.
 
Biscuits are a type of bread we eat

here .
 
.
 
.
 
definitely much better than the sea biscuits you might

have tolerated on the voyage."' In a few short moments, separate dishes

of the stew and a large platter of biscuits were placed before them.

Shemaine copied Gage's lead as he buttered Andrew's bread, and then, at

his urging, she sampled a bite.
 
Much to her amazement, she found them

delicious.

 

Gage smiled, noticing how brightly her eyes glowed when she was elated,

and watched in anticipation as she carefully tasted the stew.

 

"Good?"

 

Shemaine nodded eagerly.
 
"Oh, yes!"

 

''Good, Daddee," Andrew agreed with a toothy grin.

 

Gage peered at the girl questioningly, managing a crooked grin.

 

"Then you'll forgive me for bringing you in here?"

 

Shemaine was amazed that a master would even concern himself about his

slave's feelings.
 
"There's nothing to forgive, Mr.
 
Thornton.

 

You're not responsible for other people's actions.
 
You're no better

able to dictate Morrisa or Mr.
 
Harper's behavior than you can command

the sun to go hither or yon and expect it to obey."

 

"I was, at the very least, tempting fate by bringing you in here.

 

For some years now, the sailors have been inclined to gather here for

odd and sundry reasons."

 

After being around Morrisa, Shemaine could well imagine what those

reasons were.
 
"You gave me a chance to decline, but I must tell you

truly, sir, that I have seen and heard far worse on the London Pride

than I've noticed going on here tonight.
 
If I was at all naive about

life before my arrest, then I can honestly say, Mr.
 
Thornton, I've

learned much through my ordeal, some of which I'd rather forget.
 
I

assure you Ivm not made of spun sugar.
 
I'll not shatter into a thousand

pieces the very moment I'm faced with adversities.
 
I'd not be sitting

here now if I were so fragile.
 
I'd have probably succumbed to Mrs.
 
, J

Fitch's abuse or Morrisa's spite long before the ship ever reached safe

harbor."

 

" Tis good to know that, Shemaine," Gage murmured, "because this land is

tough and sometimes rather austere.
 
It's difficult for the weak to

survive here.
 
The hardships can overwhelm, even break, a strong-minded

person if he's not prepared to meet the challenges of living in the

wilderness.
 
It certainly helps to be resilient."

 

"Growing up in the safety of my parents' home, I never once imagined

there would come a day when I would have to face calamity," Shemaine

mused aloud.
 
"Before my arrest, I seemed destined to become a

marchioness.
 
Little did I suppose that I would soon be subjected to the

hostility and brutality of others who had the power and authority to

dictate my circumstances, or that I'd be cast adrift in a way of life

with which I was unfamiliar.
 
I've learned some harsh lessons since the

thieftaker snatched me, Mr.
 
Thornton, but I've come to realize that I'm

not without substance or stamina.
 
God willing, I'll see these seven

years through to good advantage."

 

Gage permitted her a glimpse of a smile.
 
"I think I'm already seeing a

change in you since yesterday."

 

Shemaine blushed, realizing she might have sounded a bit boastful of her

own strengths and perseverance.
 
"I understand, Mr.
 
Thornton, that any

benefit I might derive from my servitude to you will stem mainly from

your forbearance with my shortcomings.
 
I know there is much that I have

yet to learn, but if you will be patient with me, I'll try to overcome

my faults."

 

"You're much more of a blessing to Andrew and me than you realize,

Shemaine," Gage said with a generous measure of honesty.
 
"You're as

refreshing as a spring shower after a harsh winter.
 
Right now, I'm too

busy appreciating your worth to notice whether or not you have any

flaws."

 

Shemaine smiled, feeling pleasantly reassured.
 
"If we're not too late

arriving home, perhaps you and Andrew would like to have some custard

pie before you retire.
 
I made it for you both this morning."

 

A nearby lamp cast a golden aura over Gage's face, lending a luster of

softly polished brass to his noble features.
 
For Shemaine, it was like

looking at a statue of a fabled god who had come to life. The same glow

lightened his brown eyes to a rich, translucent amber, making her marvel

at how beautiful they were.
 
But it was the gentle radiance of his smile

that infused her heart with a strange, stirring warmth.

 

CHAPTER 8

 

Night had descended by the time they left the tavern, but a mild breeze

had sprung up from the south.
 
Its fragrant warmth was intoxicating to

Shemaine, who, not too many days ago, had almost despaired of ever

savoring fresh air again.
 
She accepted Gage's assistance in mounting to

the seat of the wagon, and receiving his drowsy son from him, cuddled

the boy on her lap as his father stepped away to free the horse's

tether.
 
But a muttered oath from Gage made her glance up in sudden

worry.

 

"Is something the matter?"

 

"The mare has thrown a shoe." Gage ground his teeth, knowing only too

well what that would entail.
 
He sighed pensively.
 
"There's no escape

from it, I fear.
 
We'll have to pay a visit to the Corbins before we can

leave for home."

 

Shemaine shuddered at the thought of having to face Roxanne again, but

she said nothing, for Gage was apparently suffering similar qualms.

 

"Should we get down so you can unhitch the wagon?"

 

"You can stay where you are for the moment.
 
I'll lead the mare to the

smithyss and unhitch the wagon once I get there."

 

Upon reaching the blacksmith's shop, at the far end of town, Gage helped

Shemaine down and then handed Andrew back to her.
 
He unharnessed the

mare and led the animal to a covered lean-to where a glowing heat could

still be seen radiating upward from a brick-hewn forge.

 

A large man with a ponderous belly hobbled out the front door of the log

cabin with the aid of a makeshift crutch.
 
Holding his broken,

wood-splinted leg carefully aloft, he made his way to the edge of the

porch and braced himself there on his good foot as he peered intently

into the night-born shadows that surrounded the visitors.
 
His gruff

voice seemed to boom through the darkness.
 
"Who's out there?"

 

"It's Gage Thornton, Mr.
 
Corbin.
 
My horse threw a shoe."

 

Hugh Corbin responded with a loud, angry snort.
 
" Tis a poor late hour

of the night for ye ta be makin' your way here with a horse that's lost

a shoe.
 
Any levelheaded man would be at home where he belongs, but

ye're not such a man, are ye?"

 

"Are you able to help me or not?" Gage questioned gruffly, ignoring the

insult.

 

"I guess I've no choice in the matter if I want ye out of here," Hugh

retorted irascibly.
 
"Let me fetch a lantern from the house."' Having

recognized Gage's voice in the brief exchange, Roxanne stepped out the

front door with a lantern that she had hurriedly lit.
 
Her hair hung

loose down her back, and she had hastened to don a wrapper over her

nightgown.

 

"Get some clothes on!" Hugh barked at his daughter as he sought to take

the lamp from her.

 

"I'm wearing clothes!" Roxanne snapped back, snatching the light beyond

his reach.
 
She quickly descended the steps and almost ran toward the

blacksmith shop, making no effort to accommodate her father's hitching

gait.
 
In the lantern glow, her eyes seemed animated and full of joy

until the aura of light spread beyond Gage to the slender form standing

a short distance from him.
 
Then the gray orbs took on a steely

hardness.

 

She had hoped that Shemaine would still be incapacitated after her

ordeal and that Gage had reconsidered his options after her warning that

morning and was there wanting to apologize.
 
But Roxanne now realized

such a notion was farfetched.
 
The cabinetmaker was as stubborn as her

father.

 

Sauntering close to the bondslave, Roxanne swept her with a malevolent

perusal.
 
'Well, Shemaine, I see you've recovered well enough.
 
But

then, perhaps you weren't really hurt after all.
 
Perhaps it was just a

ploy to extract a bit of sympathy from your master."

 

Shemaine smiled blandly.
 
"Imagine what you will, Miss Corbin. I'm sure

nothing I say will change your mind."' Raising her chin to a haughty

level, Roxanne smirked.
 
"You're right, of course.
 
I'd never pay much

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