The Willows (29 page)

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Authors: Mathew Sperle

Tags: #romance, #historical romance, #s

BOOK: The Willows
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Can we now?” Watching her
warily, took a sip of coffee, swallowing as if he actually enjoyed
it.


Well, I thought, maybe I
can do a bit more than merely watch over the children. What if I
provide daily lessons in reading and sums, as well as rudiments of
civilized behavior?”


Rudiments?”


Come now, Michael. Surely
you have noticed there atrocious manners. And when was the last
time they took a bath?”

His gaze narrowed. “So now we know your
part. Pardon my curiosity, but I can’t wait to hear
mine.”

Gwen wandered if her expression could
get any tighter and still be considered a smile. “It is quite easy.
Once the children can conduct themselves properly in a social
situation, you will take me home.”


I see.”

Excited that she’d devised a viable
compromise for them both, she went on. “Personally, I can’t see why
I can’t be back at the Willows by the end of this
month.”


Two weeks?” His cup banged
set it on the table. “Don’t you think they will choke to death, if
you try to jam that much education down the throats in a
fortnight?”

Gwen was determined not to let his
fierce expression intimidate her. “Please, I don’t get home soon, I
will never outlive this scandal. Folks will accept that I would go
off visiting for a month, but they would never believe I would stay
away longer than that.”


You stayed in Boston for
over five years, and no one lifted an eyebrow. I can’t see how
another year could possibly hurt.”


A year?” Gwen could not
control her gasp. “You have got to be joking.”


Do I?”

She stood. “I am not getting younger,
you know. I must find a husband.”


You already have one.”
Pushing back from the chair, he stood. “One who happens to have
five children badly in need of a woman’s tender care.”


That marriage was false.
Besides, the children don’t want my tender care. They hate
me.”


Can you blame them?” He
glared at her. “From the start, you looked at those boys as if you
were holding your nose against the stench. You think of them like
they are demons straight from hell. Can you see there just babies,
struggling to cope with the fact that they recently lost their
mother?”

With another unwelcome twinge, she
thought back to how she felt when her mama had died–how she still
felt it. No wonder Michael was so angry, so bitter, if he’d just
buried his wife. “I am sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I didn’t
know you lost her such a short time ago. It must be hard on you
all.”

He shrugged. “The boys want me to think
they are holding up fine, but the twins still have nightmares. Jude
tries sit up with them, and then there’s Christopher, who cries
himself to sleep most every night. What did truly need is a woman’s
comfort.”


I’m not very good at that
sort of thing.”

Holding her gaze with his own, he came
to her side of the table. “You were, back when you played Camelot.
I saw your compassion, how you overruled Lance when his edicts were
too severe. You were the only one who watch out for the smaller
children, the forgotten ones.”

He didn’t mention himself, but it
hovered between them all the same.


Watching you play,” he went
on, “I would be remembered of your mother. She had different
expectations, but a person could count on Amanda be kind and
fair.”

He hit a nerve. Mother was dead; the
last thing Gwen wanted was to be compared to her. Especially when
she doubted the comparison would be judged in her favor. “Oh, very
well,” she agreed, hoping to see his attention. “I suppose I could
stretch out my stay to a month.”


How gracious of you.”
Shaking his head, Michael turned for the door. “But I can’t see how
you can accomplish much in less than six.”


I am giving up a portion of
my life for relative strangers,” she called to his back. “How can
you expect more than eight weeks of my time?’

Pausing in the door frame, he turned
back to study her. “Do I have your word of honor you won’t run off,
or leave the children neglected?”

She nodded eagerly, happy that he was
at last listening to reason.


Good,” he tossed over his
shoulder, slamming the door behind him. “Then three months should
do it.”

Her first reaction was blank, for once
more he was stomping off without giving her the chance to fight
back. Yet there was no sense going after him. It got her nowhere,
arguing with him. She’d managed to reduce his requirements from
twelve months to three by being nice. Maybe next time she should
whittle her sentence down further. If she exerted a little
charm.

Returning to her bedroom, she conceded
that the children did need instruction from someone. And by taking
the time to teach them, maybe she could erase whatever it was
Michael felt she owed him. In the process, maybe she could even do
something that would have made her mother proud.

Yes, she could clean the slate, and
perhaps even her conscious. By the end of the month, Gwen would
have those children so well behaved and well-adjusted, Michael
would be grateful enough to let her go early.

She could do this, she thought,
refusing to look at the dirty dishes as she left the
kitchen.

After all, how bad could five children
be?

 

***

 

Later that evening, Patrick watch Jude
gather them in a tight circle, symbolically closing ranks, as they
decided what to do about the fact that the woman had agreed to stay
and take care of them for the next few months.


We have got to step up our
efforts to make the woman miserable, “Jude announced in a harsh
whisper, eyeing each in turn. “We can keep putting loose straw in
her bed, and making the meals so awful she won’t want to eat them,
but we have got to do something worse. By the time he returns,
she’s got to be complaining so badly, he will pay anything to get
her away.”


But it doesn’t seem very
nice.” Patrick felt compelled to intervene, unnerved by the anger
he saw on Jude’s face. “Mother always said we should be gracious to
our guests.”


She’s not a guest, she is a
nuisance.” Jude glared at him as if he were the woman.” Tell me,
Patrick, do you want her staying?”


No. but-“


Does anyone
else?”

One by one, the other boys shook their
heads.


Very well then, I say it’s
time to use the snake.”

 

Chapter 13

Jervis sat at his brother’s desk, once
the center of all activity on the plantation, and let himself
pretend for a moment that he was master of the Willows. It all
could have been his, should have been his, if not for Michael. Damn
that man for showing up when he did and ruining
everything.

Yet, how could anyone predict that John
would be so childishly impressed I Michael prowess, so fascinated
by tells of what that Amanda was said to have done? Michael was a
man’s man, John insisted and a damn sight better candidate for
taking over the Willows than anyone else in that competition.
Knowing his ensuing sneer was for Lance, Jervis felt more desperate
than ever to get Glenn’s marriage an old. All the way to get both
the trust fund and his brothers plantation was to make certain
Gwen’s marriage was to go to Lance.

His fury revived as he thought about
returning home to find the girl missing, but unlike the others,
Jervis doubted Gwen had gone off with Michael. Having been brought
up to let others take care of her, Gwen would not have lasted long
in the swamp. Hardships would have brought that pampered young by
back by morning.

No, it seems for more likely Michael
had kidnapped the girl.

Frustratingly enough, his brother
refused to go after his daughter, insisting that it was up to her
new husband to take care for Gwen. It was useless to argue, for
John refused to be swayed from this decision. Jervis thought it
would take some heinous action by Michael, before the man’s image
could ever be black in John’s drunk blinded eyes.

Pounding the desk with his fist, he
longed to know what Michael was up to. Having played cards with the
man, Jervis new he rarely took a gamble without weighing his
options. No man could actually want a brat like Gwen for a wife, so
what did Michael hope to gain by taking hurt? Not the Willows,
surely. Kidnapping was hardly the means of endearing oneself to a
woman’s father, and Michael had to know John would never hand over
his property if he were being forced.

Jervis sat straighter in the chair, a
smile forming on his lips. Imagine his brother’s reaction should be
he learned that Michael was holding his daughter for ransom. John
might turn a blind eye to anyone running off with his daughter, but
you could bet his pride would be pricked should his new son-in-law
be so bold as to demand money.

Why, properly handled, and with enough
alcohol swimming in his body, John would get so riled, he would
denounce his daughter’s new husband. Should he do this publicly,
and should a witness be near, Gwen might yet lose the trust fund to
Jervis. And it could easily be accomplished without having to let
the annoying the lance into the family.

All Jervis had to do was sit tight and
be patient, waiting for the ransom letter to arrive. Should he be
wrong about Michael’s intentions, if for some strange reason the
demand and should fail to appear, well, Jervis had access to pen
and paper.

Was there any reason he could not write
a ransom note himself?

 

***

 

Once more, Gwen woke up before she was
ready, and inconvenience she’d rarely suffered at the Willows. She
rubbed her eyes, irritated that she again been dreaming about a
certain black night, and didn’t at first place the sound that
disturbed her.

Lying in bed, staring at her door, she
saw the light streaming in through her window and realized that it
was still early morning. The noise–had it been the children? True
to Jude’s predictions, they hadn’t come home before she went to
sleep last night. Were they in the house now, or was it an
intruder?

The four-legged kind?

Heart pounding, she listened carefully,
but the sound was not repeated. As she slowly rose from her bed,
she told herself that it was her imagination playing tricks. If she
meant to get along here, she had to stop jumping at every noise.
Too well, she could imagine the children’s should be fine her
cowering in her bed.

Nonetheless, she stepped gingerly from
it, checking the floor before sliding her feet into the slippers
Michael had brought to replace her ruined boots. They were a bit
dainty for life in the swamp, but she wore them happily, for they
reminded her of the days she’d been pampered and safe.

Panning over the hooks on the wall, she
tried to decide what to wear today. The green dress was stained
from trying to fix her own at dinner, and her riding clothes still
wore its coating of mud. Longing, she thought of the Lavinia,
wishing the old servant could calm for the day to do her laundry.
And dishes, Gwen added, thinking of this stacks piling up in the
kitchen.

She chose the blue dress, for it was
the coolest, and threw it down on the bed. Seeking the petticoat in
the dresser, she opened the door and was reaching inside when she
heard the sounds of ruffling again. It was the hiss, however, that
started her screaming.

She was up on the bed, pointing and
screaming, when the children burst into the room. “Snake!” She
managed to wheeze.


There, in the
dresser.”

Jude stopped over to the dresser to
pull the writhing creature out. “This? This has you screaming like
there was a fire?” He held up a six inch snake, no bigger around
than a pinky finger, but for Gwen, it seemed repulsive
enough.


I am used to snakes,”
little Christopher volunteered.

Jude snared. “That’s because you’re a
lady.”

This brought on a round of
laughter.


Get it out of here,” Gwen
whimpered from the bed, making a shooing motion with her
hands.

Jude brought the ugly thing closer.
“This little guy bothers you, then you are in big trouble. He’s got
brothers twenty times bigger, living right here on the island. Why,
I once found a twelve footer under my bunk, it did and
I?”

The other boys nodded. “Be careful,”
Patrick cautioned, the most solemn of all. “You would not want it
to bite you.”


She’s got it expect it,”
Jude said, not bothering to hide a smirk. “That’s what life is like
here in the swamp.”


Just get that creature out
of my room.”


Whatever you say. Sure you
don’t want us checking to see if there is any more in here? They
like to squeeze in through the cracks in the walls, you
know.”

Gwen did her best not to shudder. “If I
need you, I will call.”

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