The American Bride (8 page)

Belin, sparkling clean, stood in the doorway.

Cara caught her breath in amazement for Belin did in fact look like an apparition. She was petite, tiny bones covered by creamy skin that would have been envied by the most notorious court beauty. She wore a blue and white sprigged muslin dress covered by a starched white apron edged with a delicate ruching of white. Her midnight black hair was brushed to a high sheen and drawn back by a wide blue velvet ribbon showing off her tiny shell pink ears. But it was in her face that Cara saw the greatest difference. Her brown eyes that had held such infinite sadness were shining with happiness as she held her immaculate hands out for inspection.

"Well, Belin, so that's what you look like under all that dirt!" Cara exclaimed as she walked toward her. She knelt down in front of the shining child and spoke so that no one else could hear. "Do you suppose I could give you a great big hug? It's supposed to be good luck to kiss anyone who has the sign."

Belin hurled herself into Cara's arms with a delighted squeal. As she lifted the child, carrying her to the table in triumph, Cara noticed Mrs. Clayton dabbing at her eyes but was too busy blinking to comment.

"We are a little late with breakfast," Mrs. Clayton explained. "Early this morning Belin demanded a bath so I thought it would be better to hold off your meal until she was properly ready."

Cara gathered that Belin's bath was such an unusual occurrence that Mrs. Clayton felt it called for a celebration. Over the heads of the children she smiled at the older woman who with an answering grin, bustled the servants out the door. Cara watched with enchantment as Belin ate her breakfast with dainty movements of her little hands. It was true that she still was self-conscious about her fingers but gone were the quick snatching movements of the first morning. In record time the children and their governess filled themselves with ham, eggs and fresh baked rolls, washed down by hot chocolate and a pungent orange flavored tea.

The happy threesome hurried outside and raced down to the lake. The sun was warm in the late morning and they wandered around the edge of the lake looking for a place to begin the swimming lessons. On the far side they found a small cove well covered by trees to keep them out of sight of the Hall and the other buildings. The water appeared to be shallow with a white sand bottom.

"I think this would be a perfect spot," Cara announced.

Although she would have liked to ask Mrs. Clayton about the suitability of swimming, Cara was sure the woman would be scandalized. Cara's father had taught her to swim at an early age and she had spent many a hot afternoon in the water. However her father had been rather progressive when it came to his daughter. He had felt that she ought to learn to ride, swim and shoot and to be as educated as the boys she grew up with. In America being female had been less of a handicap. In England she suspected Belin would be under far more restrictions. Cara felt that once the swimming lessons were an established fact Mrs. Clayton would be less likely to frown on the activity.

Belin was divested of all but her chemise and one petticoat although the child showed every indication of preferring to go into the water au natural. Richard swam in his trousers and shirt.

For a child who had avoided water for so long, Belin took to it immediately. Richard was more hesitant, cautiously entering the water and listening attentively to Cara's instructions. After a great deal of coaxing on Cara's part he lay across her hands and after considerable practice had more or less mastered the elementary stroke.

In the beginning Cara had hiked up her long skirts but as she became more involved they had fallen into the water and she was now wet to the knees. She chaffed at the restrictions of society and wished she could throw off her clothes and join the children in the water. She knew how much easier it would be for them to learn if they could see how she cut the water.

"Can't you come in too, Miss Farraday?" Belin begged.

"'Fraid not, dear. I doubt if it would be considered quite the thing."

Standing in the shallows Cara wriggled her toes in the sand delighted with her freedom from the cramping half boots she had been wearing. She watched the children, smiling at the high-pitched giggles that accompanied their efforts. Calling instructions to Richard she was pleased at his attempts to help Belin to float. She applauded enthusiastically each of their efforts as they shouted for her to watch.

"I think we better call it quits for today. I don't want you to get too tired or you won't have any energy left for tomorrow. Besides I'm getting hungry."

Tucking up her skirts Cara waded out to the children. She reached down to take Belin's hand but as she touched the wet fingers, her waterlogged skirts tumbled down and the shift of weight tipped her forward. Before she could fall in the water Cara jerked her body backwards. But she had overcompensated and with flailing arms she splashed down into the cool water. Both children rushed to her aid but, realizing they were too late to help, threw themselves beside her, gasping in hysterics. Realizing the ridiculousness of her position Cara joined in the general hilarity. Still laughing she struggled to her feet, hugging the children to her and staggered toward the shore

Looking up, she was speared by Lord Wilton's brown eyes.

Julian sat a deep-chested bay stallion directly above the pile of clothing on the shore. He was accompanied by another gentleman who was also mounted. Cara felt the blood rushing to her face, and groaned in an agony of embarrassment.

"Good morning, Miss Farraday," drawled Lord Wilton. "Are we interrupting some more lessons?"

"Lord Wilton." Cara nodded with a composure she was far from feeling. She ground her teeth and straightened her back trying to appear unconcerned at her disheveled appearance. With a steady pace she strode out of the water reaching down to retrieve one of the towels she had brought along.

Trying to ignore the presence of Julian and his companion, Cara handed a towel to Richard who proceeded to dry himself as he cast angry glances at the intruders. Belin, full of enthusiasm from the exercise, was far from cowed by the presence of the adults. Chirping and chattering she shook herself like a puppy, spraying water in every direction.

"Miss Farraday was teaching us to swim, Uncle Julian. It's ever so nice." She wriggled happily as Cara tried to dry her. "Miss Farraday says I'll be a smashing swimmer 'cause I've got a secret."

"Perhaps you'll tell it to me some time, Belin."

Julian pushed back the black curls on his forehead with a leather-gloved hand, looking at the little girl with a puzzled expression. He watched her for a moment then raised an eyebrow at the governess. Without words Cara knew he was questioning the change in the child and she nodded her head in confirmation.

"I haven't seen either of you children in quite awhile. Perhaps you would care to join me and my guests tonight after dinner?"

Although the invitation was phrased as a question, his tone made it evident that it would be a command performance. In two days Cara had already had enough confrontations with Julian and wondered at the possibility of avoiding the evening's audience. She considered smallpox or typhoid but assumed the way her luck was running that any dread disease would arrive too late to spare her from the coming interview. Groaning inwardly before those sparkling brown eyes she bowed to the inevitable.

"I'm sure the children would be delighted."

With a flash of white teeth Julian grinned at the obvious omission of the young woman's own pleasure in the audience. He had been correct in his original supposition that the addition of Miss Farraday would enliven his household. The girl had a penchant for getting herself into awkward, not to say unusual, situations. Chuckling he stared at the bedraggled group. Conscious of his companion's restive movement, he drew himself up in his saddle.

Julian had not missed the hiss of appreciation from the man beside him as the governess’ slender curves were revealed by the water-soaked material of her dress. He scowled at the man, then shrugged his shoulders as if bowing to the inevitable. His voice which had been teasingly sarcastic was now formal, tinged with ice.

"Your pardon, Miss Farraday. I seem to be forgetting my manners. May I present Richard and Belin's other uncle. This is Sir Edward Tallworth. His sister was the children's mother."

Painfully aware of her drenched state Cara barely managed a graceful curtsy. The children echoed her greeting but she herself refused to look up at either horseman.

"Miss Farraday is the children's governess," Wilton explained. "She was hired to keep the children out of trouble." Then noticing the gleam of appreciation in Edward's eye, he snarled, "Let's be off. We've wasted enough time with these aquatic exercises."

Belin wilted at the sudden desertion of the two men. But it was Richard's stricken expression that dismayed Cara as the boy blinked to keep back the tears. Neither gentleman had addressed the boy and now his face held the shuttered sullen look that Cara had begun to dread.

"Well, my dears, I certainly did land us all in the soup," Cara said. "I don't suppose I look so much like a governess as a drowned rat."

"Did you see Uncle Julian's face when he saw you with water running all down your dress?" Belin chirped.

"I'm very glad I didn't, Belin. I doubt if I made a very good impression on your other uncle either."

"Uncle Edward did look surprised. You do look a proper mess." The irrepressible child laughed; as she looked up at her governess.

"What a monstrous little girl you are." Cara grinned, hugging Belin's wet body.

"I bet he won't bother you like he did our last governess," Belin continued, innocently answering one of the questions Cara had been wanting to ask. "I heard Cook say it was Uncle Edward's fault that Mademoiselle Corday went away so sudden. But I don't know why it was because of Uncle Edward. She was going to get married and get a baby. At least that's what Janey and Agnes said."

"That's enough, Belin," Cara interrupted the busy stream of backstairs gossip. "I don't think it's very ladylike to listen to the servants' chatter."

"If I don't listen then I would never know what is going on," the child answered reasonably, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Richard finished drying himself and stood waiting until Cara finished dressing Belin. Then shoulders stiff, he trudged off in the direction of the Hall. Clutching Belin's hand Cara hurried to catch up with him.

"Well, Richard, I guess there's nothing for it," Cara said. "We'll have to put in an appearance after dinner. We'll get all dressed up and show everyone that we really are three very well behaved people."

"It won't do any good," Richard snapped. "Uncle Julian still won't like me and everyone will stare at Belin's hands," he finished brutally.

"As for Belin, everyone will be so astonished at how clean and pretty she looks they'll forget all about her hands," Cara promised. Then noticing the look of fear on the face of the child she squeezed her hand and smiled to dispel the little girl's trepidation. "They'll all say she's a changed changeling."

Belin giggled and clung a little tighter to Cara's hand.

"Besides, Richard," Cara continued, "I'm sure your Uncle Julian thinks you're a fine young man."

"No! He hates me! He hates me!" shouted Richard, breaking into a run.

Amazed at his outburst, Cara stood still, watching as the sobbing boy disappeared into the Hall. Feeling a tug on her hand she looked down into Belin's serious brown eyes.

"He's right, you know. Uncle Julian does hate him."

"But why, sweetheart?"

"It's because of the horses. Richard was in the carriage when the accident happened to our mother and father. He was asleep and then he bumped his head when the horses bolted and then he woke up and now he won't ride horses anymore and that's why Uncle Julian hates him," Belin finished breathless but triumphant.

"Poor little boy," Cara said under her breath. Anger at Lord Wilton's insensitivity coursed through her body. How could the man be so lacking in compassion? What a despicable creature her husband was.

Handing Belin over to the capable hands of Agnes, Cara continued to her own room. After soaking in a hot bath and changing into a dry set of clothes she felt better although still angry. She paced her room then returned outside to the stables in search of the headgroom, Glum. After a long and informative talk she and the bandy-legged man devised a plan that Cara hoped might help Richard overcome his fear of horses. She was contented with her day until she remembered the ordeal scheduled for the evening.

The thought of being scrutinized by Wilton's cold eyes sent a tremor of apprehension down Cara's spine. Her grandmother had cautioned her to remain inconspicuously in the background. She doubted if the Duchess would approve of her performance so far. Once more bracing her shoulders as if going into battle, Cara went indoors to prepare for the evening.

"Hold still, Belin, or I'll never get this sash tied."

Cara knew her voice was sharp but her frayed nerves were close to breaking. The children had been dressed and brought to her for a last minute inspection before they went down to see their guardian.

"There now. That's just perfect." Cara patted the bow in place and stood back to inspect the children one final time.

Richard was impressive from the frothy lace of his cravat to his shiny black boots. Gowned in pink, Belin looked angelic.

"I doubt if anyone will recognize us as the group of ragamuffins this morning," Cara announced, eliciting a weak smile from Belin and a vacant stare from Richard. He wore his habitual sulky expression and Cara knew that for him the evening would be a disaster.

Turning to the mirror she examined her own appearance. She had chosen a dark mustardy colored wool dress, bulky and uncomfortable for a June evening. The matching cowl-like headdress hung limp across her shoulders and down her back. Framed by the yellowish brown material, her pale complexion held an unhealthy pallor accentuated by the rice powder she had used to cover her brows and lashes. There was a ghostly quality to the nondescript figure in the mirror that amused Cara even as she winced at her non-personality. "Grandmother would approve," she muttered as she followed the children out of the room.