Elizabeth Meyette (12 page)

“Andrew, when two people care for each other, they often travel this journey of discovery together,” Emily said.

“Is that how it was for you and Jonathon?” he asked.

It was Emily’s turn to blush as she recalled how skillful a lover Jonathon was from the beginning of their relationship. Andrew dropped her hand.

“I see,” he said.

“But, Drew, had I married Michael Dennings, it would have been so!”

“But you did not marry Michael. You chose Jonathon over him,” Andrew said looking at the floor.

“Because I did not love Michael, not because he lacked experience,” she countered.

“But you hated Jonathon when you refused Michael’s proposal,” he exclaimed.

Emily smiled wryly. “Well, I was trying to convince myself of that, Drew, but I think I fell in love with Jonathon the first night I met him.” She took his hand again and turned his face to hers. “And I knew nothing about his experience or lack thereof at the time.” She smiled at him. “Do not risk love because of self-doubts, Andrew. Finding love is worth any humbling incident that may occur. Believe me, I know!

Andrew’s face brightened. “Thank you, Em. Your counsel is sound and I shall take it to heart.”

As he kissed her cheek, the door opened and Deidre entered. Her turquoise gown heightened the golden shades of her hair. Her skin seemed translucent against the lace trim that followed her neckline plunging deeply to reveal the swell of her breasts.

“Good day,” she said brightly.

“Good day, Deidre,” Emily answered.

Andrew mumbled a reply and stood to leave.

“Stay, Andrew, I do not mean to shorten your visit with your sister,” Deidre said walking to him and taking his hand. Her touch sent a charge up his arm and into his gut and her breathing affected the rise and fall of her breasts. Wanting to retain her touch, yet despising it, he stood transfixed, dizzy from her scent of musk.

“Andrew, I believe David is looking for you; he is in the back of the manor right now,” Emily said returning him to reality, wondering at his discomfort. “He wants you to run an errand for him today. Perhaps you should go talk with him.”

“Thank you, Emily,” he said. “Good day, Deidre,” he said bowing slightly.

Emily looked at Deidre curious at her slight smile as she watched Andrew leave the parlor. Joanna’s warnings about Deidre came to mind.

“I see you are making progress on the gown’s trim,” Deidre said.

“Yes, it is coming along nicely,” Emily replied, smiling as she held it up for inspection.

Deidre smiled sweetly and then looked out the window. She sat beside Emily on the settee.

“Have you heard any news of Jonathon?” she asked.

“No,” Emily said trying to concentrate on the garment to keep her mind off her longing for Jonathon.

“Do you not wonder every day, every minute about him?” Deidre cried.

“Of course I do, Deidre,” Emily said turning to the woman.

Deidre looked at the garment in Emily’s hand then at her eyes.

“Should you not be doing something to help your husband? Should you not send someone to find him and bring him to safety? What are you doing to help him, Emily?” she demanded as she clasped Emily’s hands.

“I — ow!” Emily cried out. “Oh my goodness, I have stuck my finger. I must not get any blood on the baby’s gown!”

Deidre sneered at the distraught woman, her sneer quickly transforming to a look of concern when Emily looked up.

“Oh, let me help you, Emily,” she said taking the gown from her. Reaching into her bodice, she brought out a handkerchief and bound Emily’s bleeding finger. She pressed the cloth against the wound.

“That will staunch the bleeding and keep it from staining the gown,” Deidre explained.

“Thank you Deidre,” Emily said.

“Let me get you a glass of wine, Emily. You look pale,” Deidre said. She walked over to the side table and, with her back to Emily, poured the wine. Bringing the glass to Emily, she watched her drink it. “Oh look, you did get blood on your own gown, Emily. You must go and change.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Emily replied. The room seemed suddenly very warm, and dizziness overtook her making her swoon. Deidre rushed to her side, grabbing her arm to support her.

“What is it, Emily?” she cried out.

“I — I feel so faint,” Emily quivered.

“Let me help you to your room,” Deidre offered leading her to the door of the parlor.

Emily stumbled through the door and into the hallway. The staircase was swimming before her, undulating and swaying. They reached the staircase and began to climb.

“There, Emily, I have you; lean on me,” Deidre reassured her.

Emily’s head felt heavy and though she tried to respond, she was unable to speak. Losing her balance, she lunged and grabbed for the step ahead of her. She felt Deidre’s grip tighten and the woman pulled her forward up the stairs.

Emily’s mind kept echoing,
I feel so dizzy,
but she could not say a word. She leaned against Deidre, grateful for the woman’s support.

“Just a bit further, Emily. We have almost reached the top. We need to get to the top,” Deidre said. She hefted Emily up, feeling her weight become heavier as she began to lose consciousness. “A few more steps … ”

At that moment Andrew and David appeared in the hall below them. Looking up, David halted.

“What is this?” he shouted as he took the steps two at a time. Andrew stood below staring up at the women, trying to make sense of the scene.

David reached the women and gently took Emily from Deidre lifting her in his arms. He glared at Deidre and demanded again.

“What is this?”

Deidre stepped back as if slapped, her eyes bright and wide. Looking at David and then at Emily, she began to cry.

“Emily pricked her finger as she was embroidering the baby’s gown. Some blood fell on her dress, and she was coming upstairs to change. I believe the sight of the blood made her faint. I was helping her to her room,” Deidre said.

Andrew had reached the top of the staircase by now and was softly talking to his sister who was unable to respond.

David moved Emily away from Deidre and looked at Andrew.

“We will take her to her room. Thank you, Deidre,” David said, dismissing the woman.

Deidre pulled herself up, raising her chin, her eyes glittering. She looked at Andrew who appeared confused at this confrontation. With a swirl of skirts, she turned and retired to her own room.

“Andrew, let us get her to bed quickly. Then we must send for Dr. Anderson,” David said.

“But, David, why? Deidre said she fainted at the sight of her own blood. Surely she will revive momentarily … ” Andrew replied.

“Look at her, Andrew! Does she look as if she is going to revive?” David demanded. He carried Emily to her bedroom and gently laid her on the bed.

Just then, Joanna entered. Seeing Emily’s ashen face and limp form, she rushed to her bed.

“David, what happened? What is wrong with Emily?” she cried out. She looked from Emily to her husband whose mouth was set in a grim line. He stared at Emily for a moment and then glanced at Andrew’s serious face. Emily stirred and opened her eyes.

“What happened?” she whispered. Joanna sat beside her on the bed and Andrew stepped over to stand beside her. Joanna brushed her hair off of her forehead and smiled.

“You had a bit of a fainting spell, Emily,” she said.

“I was in the parlor … ” Emily said.

“What happened in the parlor, Emily?” David asked quietly.

She looked over at him and frowned, trying to remember.

“Oh, I was embroidering the border on the baby’s gown, and I pricked my finger. Oh dear, some blood fell on my dress,” she said trying to sit up and find the stain. Joanna gently pushed her back down.

“Just rest, Em,” she said.

“Deidre was with me, yes, she got me a handkerchief to stem the blood so it did not soil the gown. Then she poured me some wine because I felt dizzy … ” her voice trailed off.

David’s eyes met Joanna’s, but Andrew was focused only on his sister. He took her hand and smiled at her.

“You need to rest, Emily. We shall send for Dr. Anderson to check you over and make sure everything is all right,” David said.

“I shall stay with Emily, dear,” Joanna said smiling at her husband. “Perhaps you and Andrew can send someone for the doctor.”

“Yes, that would be fine,” he replied.

The two men left the room, and Joanna covered Emily with a light shawl. Emily’s eyes were heavy, and soon she was dozing. Joanna stared at her sister-in-law whose lashes lay dark against her ashen face. Her breathing was even, and she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Joanna lifted her hand and turned it over. There on her finger was a mark where she had stuck herself. Emily’s embroidery skills were far above her own; how strange that this mishap had occurred. Joanna’s suspicion grew, and she thought of the look on David’s face. She knew her husband well enough to recognize he had been holding in some strong emotion. Initially, she believed it was concern for Emily, but that assumption was beginning to change. She thought about Deidre who had been a part of their lives since childhood. Their families had been close, socializing and supporting each other over the years. At one time, Deidre was Joanna’s dearest friend, but as they grew older, they drifted apart. Yet, Deidre had always seemed like a family member, and Joanna assumed, as did most, that Jonathon would marry her one day. Something changed in Deidre after her father forced her to marry Robert Manning — a hardness, sharp-edged and cutting came over her. Joanna remembered a sense of foreboding the night Deidre arrived at Brentwood Manor asking for help, and she wished that Emily had never allowed the woman to move in. A chill went through her and she pulled the shawl up around Emily’s shoulders.

• • •

Deidre’s slippers beat a hard rhythm against the floor of her room as she paced. She dug her nails into her palms in an effort to contain a scream of frustration. How close she had been to eliminating what was standing in her way of happiness with Jonathon. If only David and Andrew had not appeared at that moment. It would have appeared as if Emily had simply fainted at the top of the stairs and tumbled to her death … and the death of her child. Deidre pounded her fists into her thighs as she walked. So close, so close.

Next time she would not fail.

• • •

Jonathon kicked the horse’s flanks urging it to accelerate. The mount was no match for Neptune, and Jonathon fought the desire to whip it into compliance. In the distance, he heard horses behind him closing fast, and his heart sank as he heard the baying of hounds. Heart racing, he zigzagged through the woods trying to throw the dogs off his scent. Dusk was falling, and trees became shadowy forms reaching out to claw him from the horse, but he was on Brentwood Plantation now, familiar with the lay of the land. He continued calling commands to the horse, galloping through the wooded property he had known all his life.

The hoof beats were drawing closer and he cursed and reined in his horse. Jumping down, he wrapped his jacket around the saddle horn and slapped the horse’s flanks. As the horse took off in a northerly direction, he slipped into the shadows heading south. Running through the woods, he was rewarded when he smelled the fecund swamp. Branches slapped at him as he broke through the underbrush and heard his feet hit the water. His pursuers were growing closer, and sweat broke out on his upper lip as he searched for what he needed. Darkness had fallen, and the moon was still low in the sky. Using his hands he reached out feeling his way until he felt a stand of reeds. He took out his knife and slashed one of the sturdier reeds and waded farther out in the water. Closer and closer he heard the yelping of the dogs, intent on finding their quarry. Sticking the reed in his mouth he sank into the water completely submersing himself and breathing through the stalk. He forced himself to remain calm and breathe through the stem, not stirring the water, not making a sound.

Racing up to the pond, the dogs started to whine, trotting back and forth along the water’s edge. The riders reached the water and dismounted. Cursing, they walked along the perimeter stabbing into the water with their bayonets. They stepped into the water just yards from where Jonathon lay hidden.
Steady
he thought to himself.
Just breathe
. The soldiers’ feet were coming closer, their bayonets getting more forceful with their frustration. Jonathon winced as one blade rippled the water around his head. Suddenly, they turned and waded to dry ground. Through the water he heard the muffled voice of one soldier call out.

Feet tromped out of the pond and in a few moments, the sound of hoof beats started up and faded away. Jonathon waited a full ten minutes to ensure it was not a trap, and then slowly began to rise out of the water. Still he waited, sitting in the fetid water, listening for any incongruity in the night sounds. Finally, satisfied, he rose to his feet and sloshed to dry land.

He shivered despite the mild June night, more from relief of escaping certain capture than from cold. He turned toward the manor and began his trek through the Brentwood forests.

• • •

Emily slowly woke and gazed, bewildered, around the room. How did she get here, and why was she napping in the middle of the day? Lids heavy, she succumbed to the tug of drowsing, aware that her limbs felt thick and cumbersome. Confusion held her and she struggled to open her eyes again, struggled to make sense of her lethargy.

“Mrs. Brentwood, are you awake?”

Emily turned toward the voice of Dr. Anderson, her confusion deepening. She gasped and dropped her hands to her abdomen, fear overtaking her.

“Your baby is fine, Mrs. Brentwood,” the doctor said patting her hand. As if to confirm this diagnosis, the baby gave a hearty kick. Emily smiled in relief.

“What happened; why are you here, Dr. Anderson?” Emily asked.

Joanna approached the bed and sat beside her sister-in-law. Emily tried to assess the look that passed between the two. Joanna took her hand and held it lightly.

“You had a fainting spell, Emily. We were concerned and sent for Dr. Anderson,” Joanna said.