The Vanishing Point (23 page)

She awoke to Nathan's heavy footsteps. "Remember what I told you," she heard him say to his son.

May rolled on her side and listened to Nathan climb the ladder to the attic. The bed frame shook when the trapdoor swung shut. She counted his footsteps on the floor above as he made his way to the pallet.
Please,
she prayed,
let him sleep as soundly as Father.

Sitting up in bed, she pulled back the curtains. At first she couldn't see Gabriel. Had he turned to vapor like a ghost? Then, moving her eyes over the walls, she caught his shadow. His back to her, he hunched on one of the benches and tugged off his boots. He removed his doublet and breeches, but left on his long shirt. The hearth light shone through the thin fabric, revealing the slim outline of his torso and hips. Facing the dying fire, he stood as though rooted in the floor. When she least expected, tenderness welled up.

"Gabriel," she called, hoping that her voice was just loud enough for him to hear but not his father upstairs. It wouldn't be so bad, she promised herself. She only had to let him remove her nightgown and stroke her naked flesh. The rest would happen naturally. Boys his age, even timid ones, were perpetually excitable and cock-led. His animal instincts would take command, causing him to thrust into her. She only had to open her legs to receive him. With an inexperienced boy, it would be over quickly enough. He might even swoon away from the pleasure of it.

His face was in shadow as he approached.

***

With the majesty of a queen, his bride perched on the bed. Her loose hair shone in the light of the single candle. The thin stuff of her nightgown revealed the shape of her breasts. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, yet there was something intimidating about her that reminded him uncomfortably of his father.

"Can you not bring another candle?" she directed, like a mistress to a servant. Never mind that there was already a candle in the sconce near the bed. Did she think they were extravagant as the Banhams and had candles to waste? If they ran out halfway through winter, they would be forced to go to bed at sunset and sleep the long nights through.

Rather than giving her a lecture on economy, he headed for the opposite side of the bed and climbed in. His heart pounded so loudly, he wondered if she could hear. His father had instructed him in what to do. Father had left them alone together, and now they were to mate like cow and bull left in the same pen. He was obliged to mount his bride, service her. Except he wasn't a dumb animal. He wished Father had chosen a girl closer to his own age. He thought he would have done much better with a shy, quiet girl.

May found his hand in the darkness and began to stroke it, which sent shivers through him. No one had touched him so gently since before his mother had died. All thought of rutting cattle vanished as she caressed his fingers.

"Gabriel, I hope we can be friends," she said.

He clasped her hand in his. "I would be your friend, too." His voice came out childishly high. He cursed himself for sounding so young. Her father's letter had informed them that May was no maiden herself. Once she had been betrothed to an innkeeper's son, who had taken her virtue and then refused to marry her. His bride was full of the knowledge that he lacked.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. This was his first real kiss. At the wedding, he had pecked her cheek. He hadn't known what else to do. His insides ignited when her tongue parted his lips. She lit a fire inside him and he burned. This night he would become a man. In the morning, he knew he would walk and talk differently. Everyone would know just by looking at him. Even Father would be forced to respect him. Her breasts pressed against his chest, making him breathe hard into her mouth.

But when she ran her hands down his back, he stiffened. Would she feel the whip scars through the thin fabric of his nightshirt? At the thought of the whip, the fire deserted him. May seemed to sense this. She stopped kissing him and got up from the bed. So it was all over. He had disappointed her, and she was walking away. In the morning, Father would somehow find out he had failed.

What was she doing, crouched before the hearth? When she stood and turned, he saw she held a lit candle, one hand cupped around the flame. Stately and calm, she glided back to the bed.

"It is better that you should see me." She set the candle on the floor, then pulled her nightgown over her head and let it fall. The candle flames bathed her naked body in gold. Every inch of him ached for her. She was even lovelier when she smiled and curled up beside him.

He kissed her and gingerly embraced her. He didn't want to displease her by doing anything wrong. He stroked her warm back and her hair until she took his hands and pulled them to her breasts, heavy and full. Burying his head between them, he thought he would die right there.

"May, oh May." He no longer cared how green and untried he sounded. He was close to tears.

A laugh ripped out of her throat. He pulled back, looking at her in bewilderment. Was his eagerness so amusing? Had Father heard her laugh?

"Come," she said. "Let's have a look at you." She took hold of his nightshirt, about to whisk it over his head. She would see his lash scars, see how her laughter had made his member shrink. He flinched and pushed her hands away.

"What, so modest?"

For all her laughter, he saw no mirth in her eyes, only exasperation. With as much dignity as he could muster, he stood up.

"I think we can bide our time." He searched for words. "Until we come to care for each other."

"You do not care for me, then?" She laughed as though he were the biggest fool she had ever suffered. Taunting him for his lack of courage, she didn't cover herself but sprawled in her nakedness. "Do I not meet your satisfaction, Master Gabriel, or do you not care for women at all?" Her voice was loud and ugly. Father would hear every word. "Perhaps you prefer your dogs."

Any desire or liking he had for her deserted him that instant. When he looked at her bare flesh, he could think only of his dog Rufus humping one of the bitches—an image that left him nauseated. The tremulous candle flames threw her shape against the wall. Her shadow resembled a giantess with monstrous breasts that would smother him. If he could look at her with the glamoury eye, he would see right through her beauty to how cruel she was within. Little wonder her father had sent her across the ocean; it was no mystery why her former fiancé wouldn't have her. At any rate, May had never really wanted him. Hadn't she balked like a calf led to slaughter when Father had rushed them to the nuptials? She had consented to marry him only out of desperation. She was clutching at straws.

"In your heart, you do not desire me." His disgust emboldened him. "My father bullied us to the altar, but I won't let him
bully me in our bed. If we consummate this, it must be done out of love." He spoke coldly, watching her face darken. "Not to serve my father's will."

***

What was she to do with this petulant, contrary boy? Did he expect her to beg him—as if she hadn't already humiliated herself on his account. Any other girl would have wept herself dry, but May could only laugh. The misgivings and resentment she had bottled inside her since Anne Arundel Town exploded. If there was one thing of which she had always been certain, it was her beauty, the power of her body to bring men to their knees. To think that her lawfully wedded husband was the first man who had ever denied her.

At breakfast the following day, she could hardly look at Gabriel. When Nathan wished her a good morning, she wanted to cover her face. What if he had been serious about his threat to send her back to her father? She imagined returning home in her shame, the unwanted bride. Of all the dishonor she had brought on her family, this would be the most unspeakable, the deepest insult. Hannah's future depended on hers. God willing, her sister would join her on this shore and make a more fortunate marriage than May had done. But if she were forced to return, it would spell disaster for her and Hannah both, sully Hannah's name along with her own. She could already hear the village folk saying that her husband had rejected her on account of her being such a whore. After Father's death, she and Hannah would be impoverished, friendless, and forsaken. The blame would hang on May's shoulders for the rest of her days.

After the servants left to do their chores, she heard Nathan upbraiding Gabriel within earshot of the house. "What is wrong with you? She is handsome. You could not ask for a comelier bride."

Gabriel's reply was so bitter that it cut her to the quick: "Handsome is as handsome does."

W
ITH THE RIVER GUSHING
and the wind sweeping through the trees, Hannah didn't hear the approaching horse, only the dogs' wild baying. Then she heard a man calling, "Is anyone here?"

Her stomach turned to water. She had left the musket in the house. The sheathed knife in her belt offered little solace. Keeping herself hidden in the bushes, she crept forward in the direction of the barking. She spotted the stranger near the clothesline, where the infant clothes and the obscenely slit birthing gown flapped. The sun caught the golden hair of a young gentleman astride a glossy bay horse. In his polished riding boots and crisp holland shirt, he looked clean and beautiful, like a creature out of a vision. Behind him rode two other men—servants, judging from their clothes. One carried a musket, the other a sword, and both had shovels strapped to their backs. The fair-haired young man was unarmed.

The dogs circled them in a snarling dance, spooking the horses. The two older men reined in their mounts, lest they bolt, but the young man stepped down from his mare and spoke softly to the dogs until they quieted down and rushed to sniff his gloved hands. Unlike Gabriel, his face was clean-shaven. A whole year had passed since she had seen a shaven man—or indeed anyone apart from her lover. In the fray of leaping dogs, he knelt to fuss
over Bessie, the pregnant red spaniel that was Hannah's favorite. He stroked her and scratched her neck until she fawned at his feet, exposing her belly with the twin rows of swollen teats. Something in his solicitude toward the pregnant bitch made Hannah drop her guard. Smoothing back her hair, she stepped out of her hiding place.

"Good day to you, sir. What is your business here?" The dogs gathered around her as she spoke.

The young man bowed. "I am Richard Banham, your neighbor."

Could it be true? Did Mr. Banham have a son? Then she remembered him telling her that his oldest boy was studying at Oxford.

"And would you be Mistress Powers? My father said his men took you here last year." He spoke with perfect courtesy, but heat spread over her face. How beggarly she must appear to him, with her threadbare dress stretched taut over her growing belly. She clasped her hands behind her back lest he notice she wore no ring.

"Yes, sir. I am Hannah Powers."

"Yesterday my men saw Gabriel Washbrook traveling downstream in his canoe. Forgive my intrusion, Mistress Powers, but out of neighborly concern, I thought it best to come by and inquire after your welfare."

"My welfare, sir?"

"You are alone, are you not?"

She wanted to hide from his scrutiny. "If I am, what concern is that of yours?"

"It seems most unfitting to leave a woman alone in the wilderness. Forgive me for speaking so bluntly, but especially a woman in your condition."

At once she lifted her head. She didn't want his pity. "He has only gone to Anne Arundel Town to trade furs for supplies. We are wanting sugar, salt, and nails."

The young Mr. Banham shook his head in disbelief. "To
leave an expectant mother on her own in the name of sugar, salt, and nails? What manner of man would do such a thing?"

She felt as though someone had struck her. "Again, sir, I would say our business is of no concern to you."

Richard Banham tilted his head to one side. "We could have given him sugar, salt, and even nails had he asked. He needn't have gone so far."

"He will not be beholden to your family, sir. He told me that your father plots to take our land." How easily the
our
had slipped from her throat. She reminded herself that only Gabriel had legal claim on the property.

"Is that what he told you?" The young man seemed to ponder this. "It is true he hasn't seen a harvest in three years. I do not think the Lord Baltimore will let him linger rent-free for a fourth year." He nodded in the direction of the river. "It appears he has allowed fallen logs and beaver dams to clog the waterway to make it difficult for rent collectors—or indeed neighbors—to travel here. That is why we have come on horseback."

Hannah could think of nothing to say.

"But I fear, Mistress Powers, I have come here for graver concerns than any outstanding accounts Mr. Washbrook might have." Richard Banham had the wide-open eyes of a man with nothing to hide. "I do not wish to alarm a woman in your condition, but I fear you may be in danger. The rumors have traveled slowly northward from Port Tobacco. They are allegations, as yet unproven in a court of law, but if there is even the slightest chance the rumors are based on truth, this is serious business."

Hannah folded her arms. "You speak in riddles, sir."

"I think perhaps it would be best if you sit down."

The only place to sit was either on the ground or on a rotting tree stump. She was certainly not going to invite these men inside the house. "I will remain standing, sir."

"Could you tell me what relation you are to Mr. Washbrook? My father said that his deceased wife, May, was your sister."

An icy dread gripped her. "How did your father hear of May's death? I came here last year believing her to be alive. Your father, though he had not seen her of late, seemed to be of the same opinion."

"That is why you should sit down." He untied his cloak from the back of his saddle and draped it over a tree stump. "If you please, Mistress Powers."

Feeling very odd, Hannah did as she was told.

"What explanation did Mr. Washbrook give you for your sister's death?"