The Silent Love (36 page)

Hannah threw up her hands in exasperation, and cried out, "How could a man believe such drivel? No one can see into another's soul. 'Tis only God can do that."

"Are you so certain then, that you have the right of it?" Mary looked long and hard at Hannah, forcing the girl to look back as she willed it so. "Have you given any thought to David's motive here?"

"How can I give anything a thought? He came to me with his decision already in place. He did not
ask
my opinion, and told me in a voice that was just like his father at his worst, that there would be no deliberation, for his mind was made up. I have no say. He is my child, and I bore the pain of birthing him, and yet I have no say."

She glared at the older woman, as though she accused her as well.

Mary was at a loss, for once in her life, to advise the girl. She could no longer take her side, for she could see that Hannah was not in tune with the healing powers of seers and thought only of her own needs, her own wants and, most of all, her own pain.

She could not see the boy benefiting from this journey and would most likely not listen to anyone. Mary gave a weary sigh and said the only thing she could to the young woman.

"I think, Hannah, that you would do well to seek out your husband and tell him what you have told me. You should not keep your feelings so bottled up that you spew angry nonsense instead of facts." 

She looked rather censorious and her eyes glittered darkly. Mary could not quite hide her displeasure with what Hannah had done. "If you feel so strongly about this, you must use reason and sense in your argument. You have used instead hurtful words that you do not mean. Sometimes, child, those words cannot be recalled and no action will heal the pain of them. 'Tis clearing the air with David you need, not telling me."

Her voice was kind, but firm.

Mary rose from her chair and went to the door, a clear indication that Hannah should leave. The girl got to her feet and replaced her bonnet, pulled on her gloves and went to the door. She pecked Mary's cheek and quit the house without a word. Her heart was even heavier than it had been before. Mary had not spoken unkindly, but clearly, Mary was not in sympathy with what she had done, and she could blame her not.

With a heavy step and no peace of mind, Hannah allowed herself to be helped into the carriage and went home again.
Home
would soon be empty of all, save herself and the servants. Already she mourned the loss and her hands went to her abdomen, where a new life had perchance begun. She was not certain, but thought she might have conceived.
I should have told him that, instead
, she thought with bitter regret.

 
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* * * * *

.

"Come in now, old father and wipe your feet at the door." Mary went to the window and stared at the old man, her eyes annoyed, but not really angry. "Your snooping ways will get you in a hot kettle one day, I vow."

She then closed the window firmly and went to make his lunch.

Gillian moved away from the wall, and went into the house, his step as slow as Hannah's had been. What he knew that Mary seemed to have missed, was that Hannah was most likely increasing.

A woman who behaved in such an emotional way, usually was.

He remembered well Hannah's first pregnancy and how she had jumped from one taut emotion to another. Of course, she had had cause, finding out the things she had, but still, a woman increasing was like a storm on the brew... her course uncertain from one minute to the next.

Chapter Twenty-Two

~~

David returned to the house late in the night and went straight to Carlton, waking the man with some urgency. Carlton, if he were surprised at this nocturnal visit, hid it very well and pulling on his dressing gown, followed David to the study.

When they were both settled in, David with a brandy and Carlton with a small glass of his favorite cider, they began to discuss the situation and make plans for the journey.

"I would that you could pack up some things for the boy tonight. I know it is late, but I would have an early start and be there by tomorrow evening." David looked to his friend for a moment and seeing his nod of acquiesce, he continued. "I would be gone before his mother awakens and creates a hysterical scene."

Changing the subject abruptly, Carlton fixed David with a glance that took in his disheveled clothes and muddy boots, asking in a very straightforward manner, "Where have you been this long evening? You look like you have been crawling through the brush."

"I walked Challenger down through the marsh, and I fear I got lost when it became dark. I arrived at the cottage and stayed there awhile. It's peaceful there and a good place for a man to think."

"Yes. I will have such a place on the estate as soon as I've seen to the more pressing business at Crossham. Those folks in the village are in desperate need of sustenance."

The talk turned to the troubles at Crossham and how Carlton could bring some commerce to the area and boost the flagging economy. An hour later they parted, having avoided a discussion of the reasons for David taking the child away. They had already been over this ground and there was nothing left to say on the matter.

David went quietly along the hall, stopped by Hannah's door and waited a moment, then deciding retreat was the better part of valor, went to his lonely bed, missing an opportunity to commune with his wife, who lay awake, waiting for her silent lover.

When his footsteps had faded down the hall, Hannah turned her face to her pillow and wept in remorse. Seeing his action as one of rejection, she could not bring herself to go to him.

Carlton went along the hall to the small stairway that led to the nursery, his task to gather a few things for the boy, as David had requested. He checked on the sleeping child, and pulled the cover over him where he had kicked it away, then stood looking down at the boy and thinking of how he would soon have such a child with all the cares and joys—and yes, burdens—of his raising. He then turned his thoughts to David and Hannah.

Carlton was not certain that David did the right thing, but he was unwilling to say so. Aware of Hannah's resentment of him, he knew it was time to move on. He would go, he decided, as soon as she had settled down from the hysterics that were certain to follow the departure of her husband and son.

He would take the newly engaged tutor with him to stay until David returned with the boy, giving the man shelter against that day, for he liked him well and would enjoy his company. Mayhap, one day, he would have the fellow to teach his own sons, for he planned to marry as soon as he was able, being tired of his lonely existence.

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* * * * *

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David went to rouse the child before daybreak. He carried the sleepy lad over his shoulder and placed him tenderly on the carriage seat, then covered him with a blanket. A streak of rose was just beginning to spread across the eastern horizon, heralding the new day, as the carriage bowled down the drive and away from the manor.

Amber eyes followed their progress until they were out of sight, and continued to stare at the empty road for a long time.

Hannah, standing in her window, gulped back her sobs, lest her new maid, Sally—sleeping in the anteroom—should hear her. Her heart was heavy, and knowing no other recourse, she knelt by her bed and began to pray.

She prayed for their safety, of course, and prayed as well that David's mission would be successful. During the long night, Hannah had come to believe there was no other choice for him or their son—this, then, would be the answer. She prayed it were so.

Her whispered plea that David could love her once more and forgive her angry words were mingled with her tears. Tears as silent as the lover who had come to her so tenderly in the night. She had spent the long hours in thought—and although she could not bring herself to go to him as Mary had suggested—she had come to understand that David needed to do this.

She came to the knowledge that it was not so much the wise man that he sought, but time with the boy, as she had often admonished him to do. Why he had not explained it to her thus, she could not understand. Remembering how he had stopped earlier at her door then passed on, she was even more dejected.

Weary beyond sleep, she rose from her supplications and dressed for the day. New lines had formed in her young face and the mistress went about her tasks quietly. To the surprise of all, she asked not a word about the absence of her small family and threw no tantrum, nor shed further tears, though traces remained of her earlier crying.

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* * * * *

.

David awoke to the sound of Clay's piping questions. "Father, where are we and where is Mamma? I am not dressed. Where are my clothes?"

Before David could draw breath to answer the boy, he added in a very petulant and sulky way, "I am hungry. What shall I eat?"

Smiling in reassurance, David pulled the boy—still in his nightshirt—onto his lap, speaking softly. "Well, my son, you are going on a great adventure with me. Just the two of us."

The lie coming easily to his lips, he added, "Your momma wanted us to make this trip together and she did not want to come."

He reached down and rummaged in the wicker basket at his feet and handed the boy a muffin, choosing one for himself, gathering strength to answer the boy's next question, which came immediately.

"Why?" Momma loves to be with me... she has said so many times." Clay looked puzzled and squirmed to be let down, gobbling the last bite of muffin. "And may I dress? I am a bit cold."

Handing the boy a bundle of clothing, David sat ready to assist him, but seeing there was no need, only tied the boy's boots as he lifted them, one foot at a time. He spoke, still softly, all the while.

"Your momma wanted it to be just us because sometimes a man and his son need time together, without all the fussing ladies do." He drew the boy into an intimate circle, "You know, if your face is just a bit dirty or your shoes are scuffed, she whips out her hankie and scrubs away...  

"And if I dirty her floor with my muddy boots, well..." He twinkled at Clay, who was nodding agreement, a long-suffering look on his little face.

"Yes, she always scrubs at my face or my clothes. It is tiresome, but she says a gentleman must always look his best." The child turned an inquisitive gaze upon his sire. "Does she scold you as well?"

When David nodded solemnly, Clay looked gratified and piped up with and ingenious grin, "Will you let my face get dirty, sir and shall our boots get muddy?"

"Only if it is appropriate to what we are doing. I should not expect a spanking clean face on a boy who is tramping around in the woods, or building a fire... or fishing, of course."

"Is that what we are going to do?" The boy craned his neck to see out the carriage window, and looked startled when the countryside was unfamiliar to him. "Where are we? Where are we going?"

There was an edge of excitement in his voice, much to David's relief, as he noticed the adventuresome side of his son coming to the fore. Perhaps it would not be so difficult, after all, to gain the boy's trust.

"We are going to visit a cousin of ours. He lives in a small house and nearby him is a circle of magic stones where you and I might wander to our hearts content. He also has a loom and weaves... magic clothes for people to wear."

 David, improvising to gain the boy's interest, was not unsuccessful.

"What are magic stones? Will we have a magic place there? Can I see angels in this place? Will I see Papa?"

His imagination was working at a fast pace and Clay had drawn himself up to his knees, the better to see out the window. "Will he make me some magic clothes? Do they make you invist... ivnib... ?"

"Invisible?" David supplied the word that Clay was stumbling over. "I should not think you will see any angels, but if you are very quiet, and think about your grandfather, he well may give you a sign."