Rebel Enchantress (20 page)

“He most certainly would not. I think we have exhausted this most unsuitable subject. What do you wish to do now?”

Nathan thought about and discarded several ideas for games. Cards would ordinarily have been acceptable, but he had already learned that Serena cheated and Priscilla became hopelessly muddled when expected to recall the play of more than three hands.

“It’s a shame we have no one to fiddle,” said Priscilla. “I would dearly love to dance.”

“If Miss Stowbridge would agree to play the pianoforte, I see no reason why you and Nathan shouldn’t dance as much as you like” Serena said.

From the smug look on Serena’s face, Delilah could guess the next question.

“Would you play for us, Miss Stowbridge?”

“I don’t play,” Delilah answered.

“It’s not necessary that you play well.”

“I don’t play at all.”

“But you do sing,” Nathan said. “"I’ve heard you.”

“Singing gives me a headache,” Serena moaned, “especially female voices.”

“We can sing quietly,” Nathan said.

“I only know folk songs,” Delilah said.

“That’s all I know,” Nathan replied. “Why don’t we each sing a song in turn.”

“I don’t sing” Serena announced. “I never cared for it.”

“I can’t sing either,” declared Priscilla, “but I can play for you.” She hopped up and seated herself at the pianoforte before her mother could object. “What are you going to sing, Nathan?”

“Do you know ‘Little Musgrave’?” Priscilla began to play the refrain.

“I don’t have much of a voice,” Nathan warned them.

“Men’s voices are always more pleasant than women’s,” Serena said.

Nathan sang well enough to earn the praise of his aunt, who was careful to praise her daughter even more. But Serena’s attitude turned sour when Delilah’s turn came.

“I won’t be responsible for myself if I am overtaken by one of my sick headaches,” she warned.

“Would you like some cotton for your ears?” Nathan asked.

Priscilla giggled. “Like I had when I was a little girl and had the earache.”

“No,” said Serena as she visibly prepared herself to suffer in silence.

Delilah sang a popular song called “Brambletown.” Over Serena’s protests, she and Nathan continued to sing, one after the other. Sometimes an English tune had been given different words in the colonies, and they had fun singing first one version and then the other.

Delilah had a very difficult time keeping her eyes off Serena when Nathan sang “The Farmer’s ‘Curst Wife,” especially when the devil sent the wife back because she was too mean to stay in hell, but the mood turned more serious when he followed that by “Barbara Allen.” The tale of a young man dying of love for a hard-hearted woman made Delilah wonder if Nathan had chosen the song intentionally.

“Do you know The Lass of Glenshee’?” he asked Delilah.

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Priscilla said.

“Surely we’ve had enough singing,” Serena complained.

“My head aches from it.”

“I can sing it without accompaniment,” Nathan said, and he began to do so before his aunt could voice another protest.

“As I was a-walking one morning for pleasure,
Just as the dawning broke over the sea,
Upon my returning I spied a fair damsel,
She was tending her flocks on the Hills of
Glenshee.”

 

Delilah smiled inwardly. Did he imagine she had ever tended sheep, or did he like the mental image of her in a pastoral setting? Maybe he thought if he got her alone, with only sheep for chaperons, he might not have his kisses interrupted.

“I said, ‘Pretty fair maid, will you come along with me?
I’ll take you over my friends for to see,
And I’ll dress you up in pure silks and fine satins,
And you’ll have a footman to wait upon thee.’”

 

Delilah felt embarrassed when she thought of the bolts of cloth he had given her, the favorable treatment, the embraces in his office. She had always doubted the propriety of such favored treatment, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted his attention. She knew Englishmen treated women differently, expected different things from them, but surely he didn’t think she would give herself to him for a dress and a few kisses.

A hissing noise made her wrench her gaze away from Nathan. To Serena, at least, the meaning appeared to be clear. She appeared to believe Nathan was planning to make Delilah the mistress of Maple Hill, right in front of his aunt and cousin.

“She said, ‘I don’t want your silks nor your satins,
Neither your footmen to wait upon me;
I’d rather stay home in my own homespun clothing,
And tend my flocks on the Hills of Glenshee.’”

 

Delilah felt a great sense of relief arc through her. Silly to attach so much importance to the words of a folk song, but she felt reassured to know Nathan didn’t think she was likely to trade her honor for a few baubles.

“I said, ‘Pretty fair maid, you misunderstand me;
“I’ll take you over my bride for to be,’”

 

Delilah couldn’t help it. In answer to the warmth that glowed in Nathan’s eyes, she broke into a self-conscious smile. Did he mean he loved her, wanted to marry her?

“‘And on that very night in my arms I will hold you.’”

 

Nathan’s gaze bored into Delilah’s, making her painfully aware of his presence, reminding her of his kiss, the feel of his hands on her skin. When she thought of what it would mean for him to take her in his arms on their marriage night …

“She then gave consent and she came along with me.”

 

Delilah’s body betrayed her utterly, and she blushed. Her muscles tensed, were shaken by spasms, and let go altogether. That was only the tip of the physical response which washed through her. To think of being with Nathan always, to be able to reach out and touch him whenever she wanted!

“There’s seven long years since we’ve been united,
Seasons have changed but there’s no change in me,
But if God spares my health and I keep my right senses,
I’ll never prove false to the girl of Glenshee.”

 

Promises of love, faithfulness. Delilah felt as though Nathan had just proposed to her.

“I’v never heard a more unseemly song,” Serena said, irritation and condemnation in her voice. “Most unsuitable outside the confines of one’s family.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Priscilla said. “I’d like some man to say that to me.”

They don’t mean it, my dear,” Serena said bitterly, “none of them.”

“Do you agree with my aunt?” Nathan asked Delilah.

She didn’t know what to say. His eyes, his expression, his whole demeanor told her the question had nothing to do with Serena. He was asking if she trusted him, if she believed he would remain faithful to his vows. The tension in his body, the stiffness of his limbs said her answer was important.

Delilah spoke slowly, carefully weighing each word before she spoke. “Love is almost never what we hope it will be. Too many other constraints twist and bend it out of shape. But I would like to believe that once in a great while two people fall so deeply in love they can never be false to one another, that they would face death rather than dishonor the vows they share.”

“I never heard anything so ridiculous in my life,” Serena stated.

For Delilah, the look of wonder, of awe, in Nathan’s eyes drowned out Serena’s words.

“If that sort of thing did happen,” Serena said rather more quietly than usual, “it would be between people who could never hope to live happily together. One would already be married or of a completely different station in life. It could only cause pain.”

But Delilah thought only of the unending happiness of being loved her whole life by the most wonderful man in the world. Could previous alliances or differences of station matter to two people so in love? Would they matter to her or Nathan?

“What do you think, Nathan?” Priscilla asked.

An undecipherable shadow crossed Nathan’s face. “The weight of experience tells me Aunt Serena is correct. But like Delilah, I prefer to think that for a man and woman who can believe in each other, believe without question, for two who are willing to risk everything, and to give everything, for those special people such a love is possible.”

“Do you think it’s possible for you, for any of us?” Delilah asked.

“As long as we hope, anything is possible.”

“It’s time to retire,” Serena said, rising to her feet. “We’ve talked enough nonsense for one evening.”

“But it’s just after ten o’clock” Nathan pointed out. “In England we stay up past midnight.”

“We don’t keep such late hours in America,” his aunt said. “Besides,” she added, following the direction of his gaze, “Delilah’s duties require her to be up at five.”

“Why don’t you have dinner with us every evening?” he asked.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Delilah replied. Dreams were wonderful, but it was time to wake up to reality.

“Why not? You had a good time, didn’t you?”

“Of course, but it’s not suitable for anyone in my position to try to go back and forth between the kitchen and the parlor.”

“She’s right,” Serena said. “If this became common knowledge, it would be to her detriment.”

Her words made Nathan realize Delilah couldn’t do as she pleased, no matter what he might like, as long as she remained a servant in his house.

“Then I shall say good night. Don’t forget our appointment tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” Delilah replied. She was aware the moment she heard her reply that her tone was not that of someone setting up a business appointment.

“What is this?” demanded Serena, after Delilah had left.

“She’s going to think of ways the farmers can pay their debts.”

“Either they pay in cash or you take their property,”

Serena declared flatly. That’s all you need to know.”

“But she doesn’t agree with you,” Nathan said. “I don’t either. Nor do I want to be known as a man who puts women and children out on the road.”

“Then you’ll die a pauper,” Serena snapped.

“Don’t you mean to say you don’t want me to make a pauper out of you?”

“Of course I don’t,” Serena snapped.

Then support me in this. I don’t intend to be poor again.”

Chapter Twelve

Delilah couldn’t go to sleep even though she knew she would be tired the next morning. Nathan was smitten with her. He really liked her; he didn’t just want to get her in his bed. And that realization sent her heart soaring.

Because she liked him, too.

More than she would have thought possible. She had become obsessed with him. She thought of him all the time, and now she wanted to be with him. She had eagerly accepted the invitation to dinner and then had compounded her mistake by spending the rest of the evening in the drawing room. It might not have any serious repercussions in the kitchen, but it could only lead to disaster everywhere else.

The society which had shaped Nathan perpetuated the belief that she would never be good enough for him. He might be overwhelmed by her beauty now, but little things he’d hardly noticed would build a wall between them in time.

And what about her? The people she had grown up with, had known all her life, would turn against her if she were to marry him. Worst of all, Reuben and Jane would never understand. They were all the family she had. Could anything be worth the risk of losing them?

No, she would have to rein in her emotions while she still could.

Besides, she had never thought of marriage, not really. An Englishman or an American merchant didn’t marry to his disadvantage, certainly not to a foolish little serving girl who would bring him nothing but ridicule.

Nathan would probably look for a wife in Boston, or Providence or Newport. He might even look as far afield as New York or Philadelphia. With his looks, she doubted there would be many girls who would mind marrying him, even if they did happen to be wealthier than he was. All the money in the world couldn’t make a man grow up to look like Nathan.

He would probably seek out a beautiful woman who would feel at home in London society, someone who could play the pianoforte and sing all the English ballads he knew. Plenty of Tory sympathizers in America would jump at the chance to marry an Englishman. They would be only too willing to build enormous houses for him, give him lots of money, buy tight breeches for him.

This is stupid,” Delilah said aloud, trying to combat the depression these visions were bringing on. His choice of wife can’t possibly concern you. You’ll leave here before Christmas and probably never see him again.

But that thought brought no comfort. The only thing worse than Nathan’s marrying some rich, hard-hearted female who would take him away from her would be never to see him again.

Nathan managed to keep his speculation on the evening at bay until he was in bed, but once he put out the lamp, Delilah occupied his thoughts to the exclusion of all else.

She was the most fascinating woman he had ever met. She had an intelligence and self-assurance which not only allowed her to be a servant in his house without apology but enabled her to be his guest without feeling out of place or ill at ease.

He had no way to judge whether she was genuine or he was just confused by the different standards of behavior which operated in America. And they were different. He still hadn’t become accustomed to the fact that Priscilla could go off for hours without anyone knowing where she went, yet her reputation did not suffer. In England five minutes beyond
the
sight of a chaperon could ruin even the most carefully brought-up young woman.

Maybe that was the reason Delilah felt at ease in his company whether they were in the garden or the house. If so, he was thankful. Though she disapproved of him and what he wanted to do, the only happy moments he had spent in this country had been with her.