Riverbreeze: Part 1 (14 page)

“You do not know that for certain.” Maureen
disagreed, but was kind about it.

“I have always trusted her more than any
doctors here.” Robert said emphatically. He particularly didn’t
like the greasy-looking Doctor Harris. The man was never clean and
always smelled of stale sweat and dried blood. Robert would rather
put himself in the care of the natives than allow that man near
him.

“I know, but father never believed in her
potions and nostrums, and you know that some thought of her as a
witch.”

Robert’s eyes opened wide. “You do not
suppose someone…set the fire, do you?” Of course he had heard about
the fire from Abigail and how David Bennett had discovered the
smoking remains of her home when he had gone to procure some potion
for his wife. The woman had been barely recognizable, her body
found by the fireplace. But whether a witch or not, no one deserved
to die like that.

Maureen looked sad; she had already thought
of that. “I hope not…” she said softly. “But you know how some
people are.”

“Did her brother come today?” Robert
asked.

She nodded. “He’s here. I think he came to
listen.”

“Ahh.” Robert said, understanding.

“Yes.” Maureen sighed.

There was a moment of silence as Robert
remained thoughtful, his mind remembering the small, neat two-room
home where Beatrice Warren had lived, her herbs and plants hanging
from the open rafters and over the fireplace. She and her brother,
Thomas, along with Thomas’ wife, lived on the south side of the
James River on land that adjoined the original tract of land that
had been granted to John Rolfe when Rolfe had married Pocahontas.
And just this year Thomas had bought that property from Rolfe’s son
and was building a brick house fifty feet in length.

Robert could still picture the pixie-like
woman as he had last seen her, her black hair covered by a
kerchief, dirt smudges on her cheeks, her green eyes the same color
as the leaves of the Culver’s root plant that she was holding in
her hand. She had been a wonderful friend to Abby and to himself.
And she had taught them wonderful things about healing with plants
and unconditional love, but not enough. He hadn’t learned enough to
satisfy him or to ever be as effective as she was in healing. And
now she was gone, just like that. He shook his head dolefully.

“I should say a few words to Tom, I suppose.”
Robert said, after a while.

“I’m sure he would appreciate that.”

“But first I need to see father. I shall go
visit him as soon as you finish with my leg. Is he in his
bedchamber?”

“He is, but he’s resting. Do wait for him to
send for you before you go in.”

“All right.” Robert said, knowing she knew
best.

Maureen pulled off his boot then with some
effort and Robert gritted his teeth in pain. His hands clenched on
the arms of the chair, but he didn’t make a sound. She then peeled
his stocking down to reveal a severely swollen ankle. “Robert!” She
gasped. “This is serious.”

It did look bad, but Robert wouldn’t admit
it. “I doubt it.” He said with a shrug. “I do not think it’s
broken. ‘Tis probably just a sprain.”

“Let me make sure it is not broken; then I’ll
wrap it for you.”

He closed his eyes as soon as her warm,
surprisingly strong fingers touched his ankle. She felt along the
bones of his foot and ankle, pressing into his swollen flesh,
causing him to gasp a time or two. Then she massaged his calf,
running her fingers along the six-inch scar that disfigured the
side of his leg.

It was quiet in the room except for the
children’s breathing and the muffled noise from the merriment
below. And it was very easy for him to imagine that the fingers
touching him were Kathleen’s. After the accident that had injured
his leg so severely she had been the one to massage the muscles in
his calf and sooth the constant ache just as Maureen was doing now.
He was enjoying it too much and almost in a dream state when
Maureen’s voice startled him out of his memories.

“You’re right, Rob, it appears not to be
broken.”

His eyes flew open and he could feel his face
flush.

She just laughed at him. “You were enjoying
that too much. Now we shall see if you can be so relaxed when I
wrap it up tight.” She teased.

He watched her as she went to the chest,
opened the lid and pulled out a folded square of clean linen from a
large pile of folded linens. She was going to wrap his ankle with a
diaper, he realized.

“You’re not using that!” He said, aghast.

“Do not be ridiculous! ‘Tis clean.” She said,
holding the cloth open for him to see. “See? No stains, you big
ba..by.” She drew out the word, teasing him again with a little
smile that made her eyes glitter like the young girl she used to be
before her marriage to Phillip Archer. She proceeded to tear the
linen into several strips and then sat down on the stool again.

“I am not a baby.” Robert grumbled,
offended.

She just laughed again. “Oh Robert, you were
always so easy to tease. Now hold still.” She grabbed his foot a
little too roughly, lifted it to her lap and started winding a
strip of cloth tightly around his ankle.

“By Jesus, Maureen!” He gasped. “Have a care,
will you?”

She just smiled again, that serene little
smile that had always infuriated him when they were younger. He
gave up then and just let her do her work.

“I assume you haven’t met Elizabeth and
Evelyn yet.” She said conversationally, winding the cloth tightly
around his ankle and crossing it over his foot and back.

“Who?” He asked stupidly.

She tutted at him. “Our newly arrived
cousins. Really, Robert, where is your mind?”

“Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“That was obvious.” She said
sarcastically.

He made a face at her. Then he asked, “How
are they? What are they like?” He remembered Jamie asking him
almost the same question this morning. He wondered if his
assumptions were right.

“Well, they are amazing, actually.” Maureen
smiled broadly, showing her delight in them.

I guess I’m wrong
,
Robert thought.

Maureen continued, “They look so much alike,
it is unbelievable, but I really shouldn’t be that surprised. And
they’re just as sweet as I remember them.”

Robert frowned. “Just as you remember them?”
He asked.

“Oh yes. If you recall, father and Uncle
Bernard, their father, had a business together and we lived next
door to each other. The summer they were born I was seven years
old. All of us, mother, father, Kathleen, Uncle Bernard and Auntie
Jeannette had already left London to spend the summer months at the
country house we shared in Lambeth, you know to get away from the
plague in the city…”

“Yes, I think I do recall you talking about
that house years ago.”

“I loved that house. We had a back garden to
play in with lots of flowers and big trees…” She sighed wistfully.
“Anyway, they were born in the month of July and poor Auntie was in
labor for almost two days. She had an awful time and nearly died
giving birth to those two precious babies. But the three of them
lived and the twins thrived. Even then they were so identical they
tied a pink ribbon around Elizabeth’s tiny wrist to tell them
apart.”

“I can’t imagine.” Robert said, slightly
fascinated.

“They were two years old when we left London
for Virginia. I missed them terribly, watching them grow, watching
how they interacted with each other. They were so unique…they
are
so unique.” She corrected herself with
a smile. “And very beautiful too.” She added, secretly hoping that
Robert and Jamie would find them just as attractive.

“Are you suggesting something?” He eyed
Maureen coolly.

“No.” She said innocently.

“Good, because I am not interested.” He
declared, knowing perfectly well that she was indeed suggesting
something. “But I know I should meet them and welcome them to the
family. Are you done yet?” He asked, testing the security of the
bandage by flexing his foot, which he couldn’t do because the
wrapping was quite tight.

“Keep still!” She scolded. “Just let me tie
the ends, then we’ll go downstairs and I shall introduce you to
them. Where is Jamie, by the way?”

“Stabling the horses.”

“Oh, I reckon I’ll see him later then. But
before we go down let me give you some clues on how you can tell
them apart.”

“I’m going to need clues?” Robert asked,
startled.

“Yes, I told you they are completely
identical. I warn you, you will be shocked.”

“All right.” Robert said, not totally
convinced. He had never seen any twins before but he couldn’t
believe that two people could be that identical. “Tell me.”

“Well, you won’t be able to tell them apart
by looking at their faces, at least the first time you meet them,
so I would suggest you remember the color of their gowns. Evelyn is
wearing a green gown and Elizabeth is wearing a blue one. Also
Elizabeth has a small brown mole on her neck right about here.” She
said, touching her finger to a spot on her neck slightly below her
right earlobe directly under the curve of her jaw.

Robert followed her finger noting the spot on
her neck. He also noticed that her shawl had slipped off her
shoulders when she had been pulling his boot off. And she must have
absentmindedly shrugged it completely off to tend to him. She had
also unconsciously pushed her hair back off her shoulders and as he
was taking note of all these facts, he saw mottled bruises and what
looked like small bite marks at the base of her neck where it met
her shoulder.

He was shocked and angered. What had happened
there? He wasn’t sure if he should say anything; she would tell him
it was none of his business. But he couldn’t let it go. If Phillip
had hurt her, he wanted to know about it.

“Maureen.” He said.

She looked up, frowning a little at his
serious tone. And then she followed his eyes as he deliberately
looked at the bruises. Immediately a flush started at her chest and
rose up her face. She was embarrassed! Robert was shocked even
more. Her one hand came up to cover the marks while her other hand
groped for the shawl which wasn’t there any longer, she realized
with a start. She could have cursed herself for forgetting her
presence of mind to let that shawl slip. “Please, Robert…” She
said, her eyes downcast.

“Did he do that? Did he hurt you?” He
asked.

“No, you do not understand.” She said, her
face nearly as red as a beet.

Maybe he didn’t understand. He certainly
didn’t understand what she had to be embarrassed about. All he saw
was that Phillip had hurt her, had manhandled her enough to bruise
her. With a quiet intensity, he said, “I am going to kill him one
day.”

Her head snapped up. “No, you will not!” She
said with steely determination. “He is my husband and the father of
my children. You misunderstand.”

“You’re right. I do not understand.” He
certainly couldn’t understand why she was defending Phillip.
Phillip had hurt her. The evidence was right there on her neck! But
wait. He had a sudden thought. He had heard of some people who
enjoyed a little pain during intimate relations, who liked it to be
wild and rough. But Maureen? His gentle and loving sister-in-law?
No! “He hurt you.”

Their conversation ended there. Quite
suddenly, out of the normal sounds of the party going on below
them, they heard two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs, one
very loud and angry-sounding, taking the steps two at a time, the
second set following behind, trying to keep up. And then Jamie’s
voice yelling, “Phillip, wait, you’re drunk!”

“I will have my wife now!” Maureen’s husband
bellowed.

Robert looked at Maureen, his eyes grim; she
was embarrassed anew! “Why must he do this now?” She whispered.

“I’ll keep him away from you.” Robert said,
pushing himself up from the chair. Damn, what a time to have a bum
leg! Now he only wished he could keep standing, but the strapping
did seem to help a little.

“No, I shall go to him to keep the peace.”
And she started to stand.

Robert grabbed her arm. “No, Maureen, I will
not let him hurt you again.”

“Please, Robert, ‘tis not what you think! Let
me go!”

This is what Phillip heard and how he saw the
situation when he burst into the room: Robert’s hand on his wife’s
arm, her pleading with him to let her go. Eyes burning with
misguided jealousy and his mind enraged by drink, he bore down on
Robert in three strides ignoring Maureen’s frantic words. “Phillip!
No! You misunderstand!”

Robert was confused; he had known this man
for the past nine years and there had never been a quarrel between
them. He knew that Phillip, when drunk, was a beast, but why would
he suddenly and inexplicably be jealous of him? It didn’t make any
sense.

“Phillip!” Robert said sharply, but that was
all he got out before Phillip grabbed him up by his shirt, yelling
in his face, “Stay away from my wife, you rutting pup.”

The alcohol fumes from Phillip’s breath
nearly knocked Robert flat and he turned his head aside just in
time to miss getting a fist in the nose. Instead it smashed into
his cheekbone, splitting the skin over the bone like a knife
cutting into a ripe peach. Robert fell to the floor in a heap when
Phillip let him go.

Maureen’s husband was not as tall as Robert,
but he was stocky, with bulky muscles that made him as strong as an
ox. He was a handsome man in a gruff sort of way, with thick wavy
brown hair, heavy eyebrows over piercing brown eyes, a square face
and a strong jawline.

As a young boy from a struggling,
impoverished family, Phillip had been one of those hundreds of boys
that had been ‘spirited away’ by ruthless kidnappers, lured onto
ships sailing from the London docks to supply the endless need for
cheap labor in Virginia’s tobacco fields. Abused in more ways than
one, he had grown up tough, angry and determined. His unbreakable
will had kept him alive when many, many others had died from
disease, exhaustion and despair. He had been a frightening fellow
until the one day when he had met Maureen and she had seen
something in him that no one else had bothered to look for.