A Bride Most Begrudging (6 page)

Drew refused to give in to the baiting. Where was she anyway? She should be here by now.

“Still,” Josh continued, “I slipped down to the lower deck fairly often to ensure one Mary Robins was fed.” He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. “They were chained next to each other, you know. Mary and your redhead.”

Drew glared at his brother.

“It’s true. So, I’m in a uniquely qualified position to know exactly how spirited she is.” He pursed his lips. “Actually, she’s a bit more than spirited. Indeed, she’s a regular hoyden. But I like her. Truly, I do.”

At that moment, Constance trudged into the clearing. Drew allowed his gaze to travel from her partially covered hair to the tips of her bare toes. Her faded tunic was coated with layers of grime and far too snug to provide decent coverage.

His brother stood and offered a slight bow. “How do you do, Lady Constance?”

She collapsed onto the stump Josh had vacated, glancing between the two of them. “You are relations? But of course. I should have realized. Well, how do you do?”

The corner of Josh’s mouth tipped up. “Fine, my lady. And you?”

“Don’t encourage her, Josh.” Scowling, Drew turned to her. “We do not use titles here in the colonies. You will be addressed as all the other servants until we hear from your ‘father,’ if we ever do.”

He watched her struggle to tuck an unruly bundle of curls back under her kerchief. “How am I to be addressed, then?”

“Constance.”

She gasped. “You cannot be serious. I will not allow it.”

“It is either that or wench,” he said, eyes narrow. “If you do not respond to your Christian name, rest assured I will call you by the other.” She compressed her lips. “And what, pray tell, are you to be addressed as?”

“Master Drew.”

“I will call no man
master
. I have only one master and He resides up above.”

“Well, you have two now.”

The cottage door opened and closed. Drew looked back. The woman Josh had contracted for him stood illuminated in the moon’s refulgence.

“Mary,” Constance breathed.

Jumping to her feet, Constance hurried to the other woman’s side. What an incongruous picture the embracing women made. One tall with an aura of strength, the other petite and painfully feminine.

“I’m so glad to see you!” Constance cried.

“Whatever are you doing here?” Mary responded.

Josh cleared his throat. “We’ve a bit of a problem, ladies. Seems my brother has acquired two women instead of one.”

Taking two strides, Drew grasped his brother’s arm. “Josh … ladies, why don’t we step away from the cottage so we don’t wake Grandma and Sally.” He tightened his grip. “Shall we?”

At the edge of the clearing, he released Josh with a little shove. “Now that you’ve wagged your tongue, you may explain it to them.”

“Explain what?” he asked. “That you accidentally won Lady Constance in a wager? That everyone present, other than our little redhead, knows you never had any intention of wedding Mary from the start? That the menfolk in the colony are going to hang you by your toes when they hear? Or that Grandma will do even worse?”

Drew gritted his teeth. “Never mind. I will explain it to them.” Josh rounded his eyes. “By all means.”

“Ladies,” Drew began, “I won Constance in a wager and have no intention of marrying either one of you.”

Josh burst out laughing.

“Joshua!” Drew hissed. “Lower your voice. Grandma might waken, and I have no desire to deal with her tonight over this mishap.”

“Certainly,” he allowed. “I wouldn’t dream of waking Grandma. Especially not after you went to the extent of leaving Lady Constance in that hold half the night simply to ensure Grandma would be well and truly asleep when you brought her home!”

“Enough!”

Josh clamped his mouth shut, but mirth lurked within his eyes. Drew gave his attention back to the women. “Have you any questions?”

“I’d like a bath now, please,” Constance said. “You do have a sponge and bowl I presume?”

Drew tightened his lips. “All the captives bathed before the ship docked.”

“In salt water. It was most unpleasant. Besides, the boat … well, it had a particular stench to it. I thought once I disembarked the odor would take leave. It didn’t. Unless, of course, it’s you I’m smelling and not me.”

His face warmed by several degrees. “As it happens, Miss Lady of the Realm, my dear mother, God rest her soul, had a peculiar penchant for cleansing one’s person on a regular basis. Josh and I wash every day.”

Constance gasped. “Every day! Surely you jest. Why, it’s unhealthy to bathe so often. It will extract the oils from your skin and … and … I don’t know what all.”

“I’ll tell you what all. It extracts the livestock from one’s head and the layers of grime from one’s person. My mother’s been gone nigh on three years, but I haven’t missed a dip in the creek any day during the warm weather or any Sunday during the cold.”

“Dip in the creek?” she squealed. “You
submerge
yourself in the water?”

“I do.”

“That’s, that’s …” She crossed herself.

“We expect the same from our servants.”

Josh’s eyebrows lifted. Mary fanned herself with her hand.

Constance blanched. “Absolutely not. Under no circumstances will I submerge myself in a creek or in anything else for that matter. I’ve no objection to bathing. But a sponge and bowl will serve. I will
not
, however, descend beneath water of any kind.”

He gave her a parody of a smile. “Care to place a wager on it?”

She looked frantically at Josh. “Is he serious?”

Josh shrugged. “He looks it to me.”

Drew held back his smile of satisfaction. “Do you still wish for a bath, little Lady of the Realm?”

She took a slow deep breath. After a moment of silence, she inclined her head. “Yes. But, a bowl and sponge will more than suffice.”

He glanced at Josh. “Take Constance to the creek so she can wash her face and prepare to retire.”

Stepping forward, Josh offered her his arm. “My lady?” Drew scowled. Constance hesitated.

“No dunking tonight,” Josh whispered. “I give you my word.” Studying his eyes for a moment, she accepted his arm and followed him to the creek.

Drew turned back to Mary. “Did Grandma give you a blanket to bed down on?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. You’ll need to fashion some sleeping ticks haste, posthaste.”

“Yes, sir.”

He removed his hat to scratch the back of his head, then replaced it. She stood with head bowed, hands clasped. A kerchief hid most of her dark brown hair.

“Why is your head bowed?”

She lifted her face, keeping her eyes downcast. “It’s disrespectful to be looking you in the eye, sir.”

The moonlight softened features grown old before their time. She probably wasn’t more than one score, yet lines creased her forehead and the corners of her mouth.

“Here in Virginia, you needn’t worry over formalities such as those. You may look at me, Mary, whenever you please.”

Slowly, she swept up her lashes. Huge brown eyes focused on his hat, not quite meeting his eyes. The round pecan-colored orbs were by far her best feature.

“You know I have no need for a bride,” he said, then blew a puff of air from his lungs. “I am in need of a woman, though.”

Her gaze moved from his hat to his eyes. “I see,” she whispered.

He felt the heat creep up his neck. “No, no. You misunderstand. I mean I need a woman to cook, keep my house, keep my garden, and take charge of my young sister.”

She lowered her chin. “That will pose no problem, sir.”

By troth, he had embarrassed her. “You did know I purchased ten men and plan to pick them up in the morning? They’ll be quite hungry.”

“I will see to it, sir.”

“Thank you, Mary,” he sighed.

“Certainly, sir.”

“You may return to your slumber.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He watched her walk to the cottage. Though somewhat gaunt, her tall, straight form gave the overall impression of a woman built from staunch and hardy stock.

He nodded. She’d do just fine. Turning his attention to the well-worn trail, he headed toward the creek.

————

“Ah! If it isn’t the lucky bridegroom,” Josh exclaimed.

Drew growled.

Sitting on the bank, Constance twisted around to see if the men would come to blows. Drew looked willing enough. Josh, however, propped his shoulder against a tree.

“Easy, Drew. I was just wondering when the marriage would be performed.”

“Vex me no more, Josh, else I’ll knock out your brains.”

“You last did that when I was only a lad. You wouldn’t have such an easy time of it now.”

Constance turned back to the creek. Fringed with trees and a variety of other foliage, the contour of its indented bank dipped and swelled at random. A crudely formed raft moored several feet away bumped against the shoreline.

Nudging her sleeves up, she trailed her fingers through the still water. The night light shimmered across the ripples she’d created. Leaning forward, she splashed a bit of water onto her thirsty skin, relishing its cool tranquillity.

“All I see is a man who needs to be unbuttoning his doublet after supper,” Drew sneered.

“Me? Ha! If you’re not careful, your guts will surely come tumbling about your knees.”

“You impudent, hairy nothing. I’ve a Herculean stomach.”

“Herculean! What rubbish.”

Casting a quick glance back at the men, Constance judged the distance separating her from them. Not too close, but not very far either. She shrugged. It would have to do.

Turning her back to them, she loosened her bodice, perched on the bank, and cupped handfuls of the cold, refreshing water into her palms. With care, she poured the water over her face and neck, running her hands across them. It was absolutely divine.

“Consider, you walking gorbelly, I still top you by a good three inches.”

“True,” Josh agreed. “But what I lack in height, I make up for with nimble feet.”

Sighing, Constance began to retie her bodice. Their sparring would surely come to a close soon and she didn’t fancy being caught with an open gown. She pulled at the laces with all her strength. She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to do without Mary’s help. She pulled again, holding the laces together with one hand and trying to retie the bodice with the other.

“Drew, you’re still upset. I would have you at an unfair advantage.”

“Humph. Your wit is as fat and lazy as your belly.”

Constance heard a chuckle, then a playful whack. She could not close the gap. Frantically she pulled, willing the fabric to come together. “Oh!” she gasped.

One of the laces broke. She stared in horror at the limp piece of cording in her hand, then closed her eyes in mortification. The other half of the broken lace fell out of its housing.

“Lady Constance?”

“Josh, do not address her that way again.”

There was a moment of silence.

Biting her lower lip, she tried to pull the bodice together with her hands. In the process, the rest of the lacings loosened. She choked.

“Constance?” Josh asked. “Are you all right?”

She heard a stirring behind her. “Constance?”

“No!” she whimpered. “Stay back!”

The movement stopped.

“What is it?” Drew asked.

She pulled with her hands. It only worsened the dilemma.

“What are you doing?” Drew’s voice sounded right behind her.

Crisscrossing her arms, she tucked her chin and hunched over. “Go away.” Her plea was muffled.

She heard his knees crack when he bent down beside her, then felt him tentatively place his hand upon the small of her back. She very nearly fell into the water from the shock of it.

“Are you in pain?” he asked.

“Yes. Go away.”

He stayed where he was. “What ails you?”

“Oh, you big oaf. Just go away.”

“Constance?” This from Josh, now kneeling on her other side. “Is it your woman’s pains?”

“Ohhhhh,” she cried. And here she thought the situation could not get any worse.

“Joshua!” Drew cried. “You overgrown puke stocking. Have you taken leave of your senses? Use a little discretion, if you please.”

“Oh, a pox on it. She’s your blasted bride—you take care of her.” Constance heard the unmistakable sound of Joshua’s retreat, then silence. If it had not been for Drew’s palm burning a hole through her back, she would have thought he’d gone as well. No such luck.

“Are you in great pain or just a little pain?”

She peeked out from above her arm. “Are we alone?”

He looked disconcerted. “Are you planning on doing me in?” She smiled despite herself. “Not right now.”

“We are alone.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I have need of your jerkin.”

His eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“May I please wear your jerkin?” she asked, lips tight.

“Wear my jerkin? Whatever for?”

“My bodice seems to have fallen apart.” Sneaking out one hand, she wiggled the broken lace between her fingers.

He jumped up and back. “By trow, woman.”

Before she could blink, he dropped his jerkin in front of her and turned his back. She stayed still for a moment to assure herself of his intentions. When his back remained turned, she snatched the jerkin off the ground, slipped it on, and stood.

The sleeveless jerkin swallowed her whole. The deep V in the front, however, provided no cover. She turned the garment around. Much better.

The surprisingly soft leather brushed against her. It smelled of sunshine, sweat, and the great outdoors. It smelled of the man who wore it.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He glanced over his shoulder before facing her. “You have it on backward.”

Heat flooded her face. “Yes.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Your laces broke?”

She did not think her face could burn any hotter. Still, she refused to explain to this barbarian her compelling need to wash away all vestiges of her dreadful ordeal. She nodded.

His attention fell on everything but her. He raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s too late for a thorough washing tonight. You may have one in the morning, though.”