A Bride Most Begrudging (22 page)

He said absolutely nothing. Doubts assailed her. Surely he wouldn’t refuse her. He wouldn’t dare.

“Do you see how schooling has ruined you? Listen to yourself. Think you I will fall at your feet the moment you crook your finger?”

She blinked, momentarily baffled. “What is it? You wish a financial settlement? It’s a bit late for that, but I’m sure Papa would concede, and truly, I should have thought of it earlier.” She pursed her lips. “You could probably get eight thousand pounds out of him, but I definitely wouldn’t settle for less than seven thousand.”

“That is as much vain bibble-babble as I’ve ever heard, and thank you, but no. I’ve no wish to be yoked to a woman of learning.”

She sucked in her breath. Had she imagined those quiet moments that had passed between them? Imagined the desire she’d seen flare in his eyes? Placed more on them than was meant to be simply because she’d wanted to? Oh, sweet heaven above, she hoped not. That would be too humiliating by half. “What are you saying, Drew?”

“I’m saying I want you not as a wife. And even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t allow you to participate in mathematical pursuits nor teach Sally anything improper.”

Her heart pounding, she clasped her hands together, tried to swallow but couldn’t. “I see. Please forgive me. I foolishly thought it was
my
idea to keep the marriage chaste. I was under the impression marriage was not taken lightly in the colonies and when a ceremony is performed, it is meant as a covenant with God until the couple’s death.” She lifted her chin. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I have been thinking entirely too much, for I’d even begun to worry about how our annulment would affect you after my departure, particularly in regard to the council. I had thought perhaps they might still banish you, or at least break an arm or two.”

He opened his mouth then slowly closed it.

She took a step back. “No, no. Prithee, say no more. You’ve made yourself abundantly clear, and I should have known it without us having to undergo such an awkward scene.” She blinked her eyes rapidly. “My apologies. I’ll not bother you with it again, nor will I teach Sally anything other than religion and womanly type skills.” She whirled and rushed into the cottage.

Heaven help him, he’d handled that badly. But what was he to do? He had no idea she’d ever consent to stay. Besides, he’d never had anyone propose to him before. It didn’t help any that she’d all but said she would
settle
for him since the only clumberton waiting in the wings was fifty years her senior.

He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was stunned she remembered so much of what he’d said to her when they’d frantically negotiated the terms of their marriage. But remember she did, and she had no trouble throwing it back at him.

Then all that diary business. How could she possibly think he’d let his wife involve herself in academics? He’d certainly been in the right there and didn’t regret putting a stop to those tutoring sessions either. He sighed. He should never have encouraged her in that area to begin with. Should have, in fact, thrown out that diary back when she first got here. Words his father had taught him echoed within.

Be to her virtues very kind;

Be to her faults a little blind;

Let all her ways be unconfin’d;

And clap your padlock—on her mind.

Yes. He’d done the right thing by refusing her. But how was he going to walk inside that cottage as if nothing had happened?

He’d taken no more than two steps when he saw them. All were boys, all were naked, and one wore a bit of red braid around his neck. Drew took a deep breath.
“Comoneetop.”

The boys nodded and laid down their weapons. A good sign. That and the fact that they’d come without any fully grown men. Still …

“Constance,” Drew called. “Bring the mats from inside the cedar chest.”

She took forever. When finally she appeared with them, she went no further than the door, looking quickly to Drew, concern etched on her face.

“It’s all right. Give me those, and we’ll also need my pipe.”

She glanced between him and the Indians, worrying her lip. “Where are your men?”

“In the fields. I came back early because a ship has come with cloth and other goods. Now go on. As of yet, there’s nothing to fear, and I’m still in need of my pipe. Get the churchwarden.”

Laying out the mats, he motioned for the boys to join him. They had just settled in a circle when Constance, her eyes trained on Drew, returned with his churchwarden pipe.

He sighed. “It might help if it was lit.”

She blinked. “I’ve never done such a thing in my life. I know not how.”

He pierced her with his gaze. This gathering was of extreme importance, and the last thing he needed to deal with in front of these visitors was an unsubmissive female. “I’m sure you can figure it out since you are so very brilliant. Do it and do it now.”

Nodding, she whirled around, then froze. “
My hair!
”

Drew jumped to his feet, unsure of her intentions. The boys responded in kind.

“He’s wearing my hair.”

“Ignore it and go light the pipe. Quickly.”

She narrowed her eyes, pinning the youth with her displeasure. “I like it not.”

The boy grinned and made a short statement to his friends. They all nodded in agreement, repeating what he said, as if to try it out on their tongues.

“What did he say?” she asked, tension radiating from her stance.

“He’s given you a name.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll not tell you.”

How she managed to make her back any straighter he couldn’t imagine, but she did and the boys noticed it as well.

“What did he call me?”

Drew hesitated. “He said you will from this day forth be known as Red Spotted Wildcat.”

He barely wrapped a restraining arm around her waist before she lunged. With a look of apology to his guests, he wrested the pipe from her hand, shifted her in his hold, slung her over his shoulder and took her into the cottage.

————

She was going to kill them both. First she’d do away with Drew, and then she’d deal with the Indian. She continued to struggle, but Drew held fast. There apparently would be no relief from this ignominious position until he was good and ready. And it appeared he wouldn’t be ready until he carried her like so much baggage up to the loft and out of Mary and Sally’s sight. That was just as well. What she had in store for him would not be appropriate for Sally’s tender ears.

They were nearing the top of the ladder now, yet she continued with her struggle. He cursed and she gasped when his ascent faltered, but he managed to stay on.

At the top, he none too gently flung her onto the ticking. The force of the landing knocked the very breath from her and a wave of dizziness assailed her.

“In truth, Constance, you are pushing me beyond what any man should be expected to endure. Those may be youth out there, but do not fool yourself into thinking they are harmless. Their skills as warriors are not honed to perfection as of yet, but it’s warriors they are, if a bit rough around the edges. Before you come racing back outside waving a broomstick above your head, you might, for once, consider the consequences. Is a useless lock of hair or a title you consider unacceptable worth your life, my life, Sally’s life, and the lives of countless others?”

She raised a hand to her spinning head, keeping her eyes closed.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Every word.”

“And?”

She considered his words. “I will not attack your
friends,
but neither will I play hostess to them. Go light your own pipe.”

There was a moment of silence. The dizziness passed and she risked opening her eyes. He knelt on one knee, hovering above her. Close above her. She clamped her jaw against the direction of her thoughts. Had he not humiliated her, rejected her, tormented her? Oh, she wanted not to deal with this. She just wanted to roll over and escape in sleep. “Go away.”

“You will stay in the cottage until they are gone?”

“I will stay right here in this tick.”

His breath fanned her cheeks. “Very well. I will come tell you when they’ve left.”

He stood. Rolling to her side, she closed her eyes and curled up into a ball, listening for his retreat. He took a few steps before returning. She felt a coverlet feather across her body and snuggled beneath it. Then he was gone.

————

“She still asleep?” he whispered.

Mary nodded. “Not heard so much as a peep from her.”

Propping the bolts of cloth against the wall, he looked up toward the loft. Mary had already seen to the men’s supper and had even cleansed the dishes. Constance should have wakened long ago.

Had her seasoning begun, then, so soon? Most of the servants went through a period of sickness where their bodies tried to adjust to this new world, a good percentage of them never making it past their first season here. It was so common, he and his fellow colonists had begun to call it “seasoning.” But usually it happened within their first few months, not their first few weeks.

He swallowed. Would she be dead by morning, or would it be a long drawn out process? Thank God they hadn’t consummated the marriage. At least there was no babe to worry about.

Placing one foot in front of the other, he forced himself to go up and check on her. The loft was warm and she’d flung off her covers. Her cap lay carelessly to the side of the tick, her mussed hair full about her head. He cleared his throat.

No response.

“Constance?”

Nothing. He frowned and knelt down to touch her forehead. Relief swept through him. No fever. Could it be fatigue and nothing more? He hoped to God that was the case … for her father’s sake, anyway.

He brushed the hair from her eyes. “Constance? Wake up. You’ve missed supper.”

Slowly, she twisted onto her back, stretching her arms and legs in a feline gesture. He didn’t know where to look, or where
not
to look.

Open your eyes, Constance. Open your eyes and remember your anger with me before I forget myself
.

Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him with an intimate I’m-glad-to-see-you, sleep-induced smile. His breathing became labored.

“God ye good den.” The timbre of her voice could have melted butter.

He nodded.

She looked to the open side of the loft. “They’ve left, then?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Long since.”

“What did they want?”

“To make peace.”

“Just like that? He apologized, then?”

No
. “Yes. You’re feeling well?”

She propped herself up on her elbows. By trow, he would
not
look at the tension that caused in the fabric of her bodice.

“You say they’ve long since left? Why didn’t you wake me?”

He shrugged. “I thought you might could use a bit of rest. How are you feeling?”

She sat up, noticed her twisted skirt, and turned a lovely shade of pink while quickly righting it. “I … oh, I’m fine. Thank you. You’re sure it went all right?”

“With the Indians? Yes. Better than I’d hoped. Seems you made quite an impression. Or your hair did, anyway.”

At its mention, she gathered her tresses up and shoved them into her cap.

He stood. “Come and share a trencher with me. It seems we’ve both missed supper.”

Supper? She’d missed supper? Suddenly ravenous, she followed Drew down the ladder. Sally sat in a corner as Mary plaited her hair for the night. Smiling, Constance winked at her. Sally tilted her head and tried desperately to wink back, scrunching up her face in various contortions.

And so it was with a smile that Constance began her meal with Drew. As he made inroads into their food, though, she glanced at the fire and felt a pang of concern. There was no extra. When she looked back down, Drew’s spoon was upon the last scoop of carrots.

She slammed her spoon down, stole the carrots from him, and stuffed them into her mouth.

He looked at her in surprise. “Those were mine.”

She shook her head and swallowed them. “I had not even had one taste. Those were mine.”

He frowned a bit but said no more, turning his attention to the meat. Again, he inhaled it, giving her little chance to do more than chew and swallow one bite to his four.

Looking to the window, she pointed and gasped. As soon as he turned his head, she snatched up the remainder of the meat, stuffing the whole of it into her mouth. He turned back to her, his eyes widening. “Constance! That was the last of the meat.”

“I know,” she managed around her mouthful.

He reached for the bread. She got to it first, tore it in two, and handed him half. After what could only be called a warning glare, he dipped his bread into the gravy, slopping up a goodly portion of it. She chewed faster but could only watch as the gravy and the greens began to disappear.

Shouldering him back some, she blocked his way and swallowed what was in her mouth so as to partake of some greens.

“Constance, what has gotten into you?”

She ate three spoonfuls before answering. “You do this every single meal. You eat twice as much as I do, leaving me next to nothing.”

“I’m twice your size. It’s only right I have the most. Now, scoot over and share the greens.”

She hovered over the plate. “I’m fair to starving tonight. I’ll only eat my share. You may have your half when I’m done. And no more gravy for you either.”

“Constance, this is ridiculous. I’m still hungry and I want some greens.”

“You’ll have some greens, just as soon as I’m finished.”

“I’ll have some greens
now
.”

She hugged the trencher to her, shoveling her share into her mouth. Placing his hands on her waist, he moved her to the opposite end of the bench, wrenched the trencher from her, and placed his back to her while eating what was left of the greens.

A good deal of her hunger had been appeased now, but the gravy was quite tasty and she only wanted her half of it.