Too Far to Whisper (2 page)

“’Tis best if you wait for your husband to teach you of such intimate matters. It is not my place to do so.”

“How many times must I tell you there never will
be
a husband?” Rosalind snapped.

“Oh, do not be so certain,” Ben said. “For what reason do you think Mother practically begged Magistrate Corwin to hire you as his wife’s companion?”

Rosalind stopped abruptly and grasped her brother’s arm. “What are you saying?”

He turned to look at her. “’Tis quite simple, my dear sister.  Mother is hoping that during your employ at the Corwins’ you will attract the attention of either Matthew or Nathaniel. She, not unlike any other mother of an unwed daughter between here and Boston, would be pleased beyond words to see you wed to a Corwin. That is why she purposely sought out the magistrate at the wedding yesterday and convinced him of your worth!”

Rosalind’s mouth fell open. “You are wrong! Mother would never send me away to live with strangers solely because she wants me to find a rich husband!”

“Oh, but indeed she would!  She confessed as much to me herself. Is it so wrong of her to want the best for her first-born daughter? If you are fortunate enough to wed a Corwin, you will want for naught for the rest of your life.”

“But I do not
want
to wed a Corwin! Nor any other man, for that matter! Why does no one believe that?”

“Do not be so eager to seal your fate.” Ben swatted at a fly that had landed on his cheek. “You have not yet made the acquaintance of either Matthew or Nathaniel. Who knows? You may fall hopelessly in love with one of them at first sight!”

“Do not be absurd! My duty is to care for Mrs. Corwin, not bat my eyelashes at her sons. Besides, ‘tis common knowledge that the lads’ appearances at home are as rare as udders on a bull! I may never even have the opportunity to meet either of them.”

“Ah, I believe ‘tis fate,” Ben said, smiling. “I hear tell that Nathaniel has been home from the sea since three days past.”

Rosalind rolled her eyes and once again continued to walk. “’Tis no concern of mine whether Nathaniel Corwin is at home or is off harpooning whales, or whatever it is he does while on his voyages. He and I shall get along just fine if he has the good sense to stay out of my way.”

“Do you not realize how many young women would chop off their right hands to be in your position at this very moment? You should be grateful to Mother for what she has done for you.”

“I
am
grateful. But I fear she will be sorely disappointed when I return home without a Corwin on my arm.”

CHAPTER TWO

“
Welcome, Mistress Chandler!” Elias Corwin greeted her with a broad smile. “Come in, come in!” He swung open the thick oak door and gestured for her and Ben to enter.

Rosalind’s legs felt suddenly weak as she followed Mr. Corwin into the spacious sitting room. Fatigue was causing her shakiness, she convinced herself, not the fear of living in an unfamiliar house filled with unfamiliar faces.

“How kind of you to accompany your sister here, Benjamin,” Elias said, his large hand clasping Ben’s shoulder, “most especially on the morn after your wedding.”

“’Tis not safe for a woman to be traveling alone,” Ben said. “Not with savages lurking about. I have heard disturbing tales of what they do to females.”

Elias shook his head. “While I do not entirely trust them, I fear that most of those tales of horror have been greatly exaggerated.”

“Be they exaggeration or not,” Ben said, “I wish to take no chances.”

“Please, be seated,” Elias said to the pair. “You must be weary from your journey. I shall have Grace fetch some refreshment for you.”

Ben set the bundles on the floor, then he and Rosalind seated themselves opposite each other on two richly upholstered benches.

As if on cue, a plump woman with gray-streaked brown hair tucked beneath a white cap entered the room. She nodded in response to Mr. Corwin’s orders, then disappeared as quickly as she had entered.

Rosalind was awed by the size and elegance of the Corwins’ sitting room. Several benches and stools, decorated with plush, embroidered cushions, surrounded a table made of a dark, polished wood. Ornate brass andirons and tongs complemented the massive stone fireplace, and an intricately carved cupboard stood in the corner. Near the front door, a polished pewter cistern with matching candlestick holders sat on a small round table. Rosalind cast a glance at her brother and sensed by his expression that he was as impressed by their surroundings as she was.

“I am eager for you to meet my wife,” Elias said, lowering his bulk onto a stool. “You cannot imagine Abigail’s delight when I informed her that you would be arriving today, Mistress Chandler.”

“I look forward to meeting her also,” Rosalind said, praying her words sounded more sincere than she actually felt.

Grace, balancing a tray that held several pitchers and mugs, entered the room.  She set it down on the table and said, “There is ale, cool water and cider. Also some tarts, if you are hungry.”

Rosalind’s stomach still was too knotted for her to accept anything more than the water, but Ben ate and drank with such relish, she found it difficult to conceal her embarrassment.  So intent was her brother on filling his stomach, he paid little attention to Elias’s attempts at casual conversation. On more than one occasion, Ben lifted his head and stared blankly at his host in response to the man’s questions. Rosalind suspected that in Ben’s haste to leave his new bride that morning, he had not paused to eat breakfast – which would explain his sudden lust for cider and tarts.

The unexpected slam of the front door caused all eyes to turn toward the entrance. Even Ben momentarily ceased eating to peer over his shoulder.

“Oh, forgive my interruption,” the intruder apologized. He was a young man – tall, solidly lean, deeply tanned, with thick, light-brown hair that the sun had streaked with shades of gold. “I was not aware you were entertaining guests.”

“Nathaniel!” Elias rose to his feet. “Your entrance could not be better timed! Come here, son, and meet your mother’s new companion!”

Nathaniel stepped into the sitting room and flashed a smile at Rosalind. She noticed his even, white teeth and the two dimples that punctuated his smile. He was perfect looking, she thought…too perfect.

“Allow me to present Captain Nathaniel Corwin, my elder son.” Elias’s expression could not disguise his pride. “Nathaniel, this is Mistress Rosalind Chandler and her brother, Benjamin.”

Nathaniel stepped forward and grasped Ben’s hand for vigorous handshake, then moved toward Rosalind. Taking her hand into his, he bowed, then allowed his hazel gaze to linger on her face. “I am certain your presence here, Mistress Chandler, will bring a breath of fresh air to our home.”

Ben caught his sister’s eye and winked teasingly at her. She responded with a glare.

“Thank you for your kind words, sir,” Rosalind said as Nathaniel straightened to his full height. She spared him a slight smile.

“I also have a good feeling about this young lady,” Elias added. “I truly believe she will do wonders for Abigail.”

“Aye,” Nathaniel concurred. “Mother cannot help but benefit from the company of someone so…lovely.” Both he and his father smiled at Rosalind.

Sensing his sister’s discomfort, Ben decided to put an end to the men’s conversation before they nominated her for sainthood. “If you will excuse me,” he announced and rose to his feet, “I really must be getting on my way. I do not want my new bride to think I have deserted her.”

“I understand,” Elias responded with a knowing smile. “New brides do require a good deal of attention.”

Ben’s words caused a look of panic to settle on Rosalind’s face. She did not want her brother to leave her – not yet – not until she felt a good deal more at ease in her new home. She stood and directed a pleading look in Ben’s direction, praying he would sense just how desperately she wanted him to stay.

Ben moved toward Rosalind, then leaned to give her a brief embrace. “Do not worry,” he whispered against her ear. “You will be just fine.” He straightened and turned to face Elias. “May I be permitted to visit my sister on occasion?”

Rosalind thought his request made her sound as if she were a prisoner…which was exactly what she was feeling like at that moment.

“By all means, lad,” Elias said. “Perhaps you and your wife might do us the honor of supping with us some evening soon.”

“It would indeed be an honor,” Ben said with a nod. “Please, give my regards to Mrs. Corwin.”

“Would you care to meet my wife ere you depart?” Elias asked.

Rosalind silently willed her brother to delay his departure and agree to the meeting.

“Although I am eager to meet your wife,” Ben said, “I really must return home posthaste. When next I visit, I shall look forward to an introduction.”

* * * * *

Rosalind stood and stared at the door for long moments after her brother had departed. She was truly alone now, deserted in a house full of strangers. Biting at her bottom lip, she fought the urge to run after Ben and join him on his journey home.

“You and your brother appear to be very close,” Elias broke the silence.

“Yes…we are.” Rosalind reluctantly tore her gaze from the door. “Though he is but three years my elder, he has always seemed like a father to me – even more so since our father’s passing.”

“Well, shall I show you to your chamber?” Elias asked. “I imagine you would like to get settled in ere you meet Abigail.”

Rosalind nodded and stooped to gather her belongings, but Nathaniel blocked her efforts. “Allow me to carry those for you,” he said, collecting her bundles. Before she could respond, he already was ascending the staircase. Rosalind had been so preoccupied with her brother’s departure, she had forgotten the captain still was in the room.

Rosalind’s bedchamber bore no resemblance to the cluttered one she shared with her two sisters back home. She stared in awe at the canopied featherbed with its embroidered quilt and thick, fluffy pillows. A tall chest of drawers stood against one wall, and a round table with a floral design carved into it sat next to the head of the bed. Rosalind was especially pleased to see a full-length brass-trimmed looking glass in the corner. Few people, save for the very rich, were able to afford such a luxury. There were two doors in the chamber – the one through which she had entered, and another to the right of the bed, which she assumed led to Abigail’s chamber.

Nathaniel set Rosalind’s belongings on the bed, then turned to face her. “After you have had the opportunity to meet my mother, ‘twould greatly please me to escort you on a tour of the grounds. The sooner you become familiar with everything here, the sooner you will come to feel like a member of our family.”

Rosalind appreciated the Corwins’ efforts to make her feel as though she belonged and could easily fit in and adapt to their lifestyle, but in truth, she did not want to feel like a member of the family. She already had a family – a perfectly acceptable one – which she missed more and more with each passing minute.

She mustered a smile and looked up at Nathaniel. “Thank you for your offer, Captain Corwin. I am indeed eager to learn all I can about my new home. A tour of the grounds would be greatly appreciated.”

“Please, call me Nathaniel,” he said. “May I call you Rosalind?” His eyes caught hers and held them.

“If you wish,” she replied, although she had strong misgivings about encouraging such familiarity. After Ben’s taunting about snagging a Corwin for her husband, she felt even more compelled to keep her relationship with the captain as formal as possible. Not that a man like Nathaniel ever would consider courting her, the family’s help, anyway, she thought. She felt certain that Nathaniel’s ideal bride would be an affluent, elegant woman, not someone who shared a bed with her two sisters in a small two-room house with dirt floors. Nor would his future mother-in-law be a woman who earned a few coins by mending and washing other people’s garments. Rosalind knew that her mother and Ben both believed her to possess all of the qualities necessary to capture the heart of a Corwin man, but she wondered how quickly their confidence in her would be dashed if they knew the secret that constantly ate at her…the secret she intended to take with her to the grave. Even if, by some miracle, she were to suddenly decide to change her mind and search for a husband, she knew she was as likely to wed one of Elias’s sons as she was to sprout eagle’s wings and fly to the moon.

“Is something amiss, child?” Elias asked. His voice snapped Rosalind back to the present. “Is there something about your bedchamber that does not please you? Please, do not hesitate to tell me what it is and I shall change it for you.”

Rosalind felt her cheeks grow hot. “No, everything is just fine. But if you would be kind enough to allow me a moment alone, I should like to make myself more presentable ere my meeting with Mrs. Corwin.”

“You look perfect the way you are,” Nathaniel commented, smiling. His words served only to fuel Rosalind’s discomfort.

“I shall return for you in a half-hour,” Elias said.

“That will be more than sufficient.”  She nodded. She purposely avoided looking at Nathaniel. There was something about the man that made her feel ill at ease. Perhaps it was his smooth, self-assured manner or the way compliments so effortlessly rolled off his tongue. Perhaps it was the way he stared at her, as if his eyes were attempting to bore right through her. Whichever, she found herself regretting that she had accepted his offer to escort her on a tour of the grounds.

* * * * *

Abigail Corwin smiled warmly when Elias and Rosalind entered her chamber. She was a painfully thin woman with gray hair pulled back in a long braid, and dull hazel eyes that appeared even more lackluster against her wan complexion. She sat propped up in bed with her back against several pillows, an unfinished needlepoint on her lap.

The chamber was large, and so was Abigail’s bed. The woman seemed lost in its depths, as if the bed were swallowing her. There were two chests of drawers in the room and two small tables –one on each side of the bed – with vases of fresh flowers on them.  A rug made of richly colored wools covered the planked floor, and a tapestry of flowers hung on the wall.  Although the hour was early afternoon, the room was dark due to the window shutters being closed. The only light came from several candles burning on one of the bedside tables.

“Dear Mistress Chandler,” Abigail said in a surprisingly strong voice and extended her hand. “I have so been looking forward to your arrival.”

Rosalind took her hand. It felt cold and bony. “I am honored that you and Mr. Corwin consider me capable of handling this responsibility, ma’am,” she said. “I promise I shall do my best to attend to your every need.”

“I shall leave the two of you alone to get acquainted,” Elias said. With a nod, he left the chamber.

“Please be seated, my dear,” Abigail said to Rosalind. She indicated a chair at the side of the bed. Rosalind obeyed and seated herself. “First of all, if we are to become good friends, you must call me Abigail.”

“’Twould be discourteous,” Rosalind protested, shaking her head and lowering her gaze. Not calling Nathaniel by his surname was bad enough, but addressing the magistrate’s wife so informally was totally inappropriate – totally out of the question.

“I insist,” Abigail said, her lips tightening. She removed her hand from Rosalind’s.

Rosalind dared not argue with the woman. “I-I shall try,” she said.

Satisfied, Abigail smiled. Her eyes slowly appraised Rosalind, from her soft blond curls and wide blue eyes to her slim waist. “You are indeed a lovely young woman,” she said. “So, pray tell, have you a man in your life?”

Keeping her eyes downcast, Rosalind shook her head. “There is no one.”

“I find that difficult to believe. I would think many young men would be lining up outside your door in their eagerness to win your heart.”