Heirs of Acadia - 02 - The Innocent Libertine (32 page)

Abigail felt the faintest tremor run through her form.

“It teaches me to care for others, people beyond the reach of my family and comfortable church community. And through this, I have come to care more deeply for our Savior.”

“How is that, please?”

“Because I am drawn to care deeply for those that are dear to Him. The voiceless, the infirm, the innocents in chains. I learn through my actions what Jesus meant in His lesson about loving my neighbor, whoever and wherever he might be.”

Another tremor touched the core of her being, stronger even than the first. “I would so very much like to have such a cause,” Abigail whispered.

“Then you shall be granted one.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“ ‘The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few,’ ” Erica quoted. “Our Lord will use all who seek to do service, according to His calling.”

Abigail could hardly contain her enthusiasm and impatience to discover what her calling might be. Erica told her to wait, watch, and pray—it would come.

Almost a week had passed when they began climbing the hills of southwestern Pennsylvania beneath a clear sky with the air fragrant with autumn’s spices. The coach rocked a good deal more than Lillian’s English carriage and had none of the gloss and ornate grillwork. But it was an extremely sturdy conveyance and remained well balanced even with the mountain of supplies stored up top and strapped to the rear boot. The road had good enough drainage that the previous night’s torrential rain did not slow them down overmuch.

The villages along the National Road were becoming home to an increasing number of inns. Many of these towns had been founded by religious groups, and many still banned the sale of spirits. It was in such places they intended to overnight, for these were also the safest villages. But their midday halts could not be so well planned. That day, the village where they had hoped to stop contained more than three dozen unlicensed roadside taverns. They were known as tippling inns and already had a notorious reputation. So they halted only long enough to buy fresh bread and continued on to the next lay-by. They picnicked beside one of the whitewashed milestones, a triangular marker noting the distance from Washington on one side and Wheeling on the other.

As he ate, Abe made hasty calculations and declared, “We’re now making better than twelve miles per hour, despite the train of Conestoga wagons that slowed us just after dawn.”

“I do wish you would set your work aside for a time,” Abigail complained, only half jokingly. “Your brain needs a rest.”

“I have never discovered a means by which to turn off my thoughts.” He stopped then, but gave the impression of having more to say.

“You may finish your thought, Abe,” Abigail invited with a wry look.

Abe turned red and lowered his voice. “I was going to add, except when I look at you. Then my thinking scatters to the winds!”

Abigail turned a brighter shade of red than Abe. “Well, thank you, Mr. Childes.”

Reginald returned from inspecting the horses. One of the men repeated this task every midday and evening, loosening buckles and fitting nosebags. While the speediest coach companies arranged to trade teams at various stages along their journeys, private travelers continued with the same horses for the entire journey.

“The day looks to be fine,” Reginald said to Lillian. “Would you care to join me up top for the next leg of our journey?”

Lillian could tell there was something on his mind, but she kept her tone light in the others’ presence. “I should be most pleased,” she responded with a smile.

“I gather Abe and Miss Abigail shall have no difficulty finding some topic to occupy them in the coach,” Erica noted to kind laughter.

Reginald scarcely waited until he had tightened the braces and helped Lillian climb on board before saying, “There was something I wanted to speak with you about before we left. But things became awfully busy there toward the end, don’t you know.”

“I do indeed.” Lillian was feeling very comfortable with this man and no longer felt a need to prepare herself for the worst. Whatever it was, she knew he would only speak with her best interests at heart. “We have scarcely had a single moment these last few days.”

“Now that I have no reason to hold back, still I find it difficult to speak. But Erica insists I should put this off no longer.”

Even with such an introduction, Lillian felt no threat. “You trust your sister so. It is a lovely thing to see.”

“She is as much the leader of our little company as I— perhaps more. Oh, I manage the day-to-day affairs and take care of all the strenuous work. I always have preferred working with my muscles, over my head.”

“You will miss her terribly when she goes back to England,” Lillian softly observed.

“It is something I can scarce think of without very real sorrow,” he said, his voice low.

“I am certain you will do fine, Reginald. You are a man with far more talent and abilities than you give yourself credit for.”

“I wish . . .”

When he did not continue, she urged, “Pray finish that thought, Reginald.”

Reginald cleared his throat and said, “On the Friday before our departure, I visited with several allies within the Washington community. I explained to them that I was concerned about a possible threat posed by one certain local banker. You know of whom I speak?”

She sat up straighter. “Of course.”

“I was joined by Horace, who has once again proven himself to be a staunch friend and ally. We did not explain things fully to the others, of course. Merely that there were matters which we feared might be used in an insulting and untrue fashion.” He kept his eyes upon the road ahead. “Our concerns were apparently well founded.”

Lillian’s hand rose to her throat. “What did they tell you?”

“Only that the banker had indeed been making scurrilous references to certain company we kept.” Reginald’s features had taken on an iron cast. “I fear this is not the last we have heard from this scoundrel.”

“Reginald—”

“Oh, I know I should have discussed it with you. But I feared you would beg me not to proceed as I have. I could not bear the thought of departing Washington with you so vulnerable. It was a minor matter, but it had to be done. I discussed it with Erica, and she agreed.”

“It was not minor at all,” Lillian protested.

“What I meant to say was that I wish I could do more. With the departure looming all I could do was alert our trusted allies to this matter and ask that they speak on our behalf until my return.” He glanced anxiously at her. “Have I made an error?”

“You have sought to be my protector and friend. For that I am most grateful.” But even more than this was the gnawing certainty that she would be a constant burden to these people so long as she was to remain with them. She had no choice but to flee far and deep into this country’s seemingly endless depths. Perhaps even take a new name. Find someplace safe for her and her son to start afresh.

Reginald interrupted her bleak thoughts. “Then you are not angry with me?”

“Dear, dear Reginald. Of course not. I only wish . . .” It was now her turn to leave the thought unfinished.

But he understood and spoke for them both. “That none of this had happened, or was hanging over you still. As do I. So very much.”

Lillian shook her head. This man continued to astonish her so. “Does it not trouble you in the slightest that I am—I am a fallen woman?”

“You are nothing of the sort,” he admonished hotly.

“But I was, Reginald. I was. Though it pierces my very soul to speak of it, I shall have no illusions between us. I have done many wrong things and spent years hiding behind a title and station that were not mine to claim.”

He paused so long she feared he might actually agree with her, which caused such pain she could scarcely breathe. Or, worse still, suggest that soon they would part and the problem would no longer be a concern to either of them. Her heart wrenched with the terrible certainty of coming loss. Of all the worries besetting her—the thought of withdrawing her son from his beloved Eton, the two of them leaving England forever, scandal chasing them across the Atlantic, forging a new life in an utterly alien world—this one, losing a man she knew but for a short time, caused her by far the greatest agony.

Yet when Reginald responded, it was with a thoughtful air. “I have seen you bow your head and pray.”

“Yes.”

“You have done this quietly. No fanfare, no thought of being observed. But you have done something that you have denied all your life long.”

“It is true.” She found herself missing the hours with Mr. Cutter. If only she could sit with him now, and feel his calm certainty, and pray with the strength and the clarity she had known in his presence. “And I am the better for it.”

“There is a passage in the Bible that reads, ‘As far as the east is from the west . . .’ speaking of how God separates us from the mistakes we have made in the past.
All
of us have made such errors. I don’t know much—”

“I do wish you would stop saying that, Reginald. You are a man of great strength and wisdom.”

“You mistake my sister’s intelligence for my own.”

“Stop, please, I beseech you. How could anyone possibly consider you anything but brilliant?”

He looked at her in astonishment.

“Brilliant,” she repeated, more softly this time. “You might not have all the book learning in the world, but you have built for yourself a position of success. This was not accomplished because of your sister. You are the man who leads this company. You are the man Abe looks up to. And from what I have seen, this is a sentiment shared by almost all of your other employees. You are a truly great man, Reginald Langston, and it is high time you recognized this.”

He seemed to mull that over for a time. “Forgive me, I have completely lost track of the conversation.”

“Mistakes,” she replied glumly. “My own.”

“All of us have made errors, Lillian. All of us require God’s saving grace.”

“But these mistakes could well mean the loss of everything I have. Title, position, and damage to the reputation of those I care about.”

“Who in all these reaches will be concerned with such matters?” Reginald swept his hand in a broad arc. “Look around you. This is a new land. We have founded this nation upon the principle that a man is what he is. We are not bound by titles or inherited position. We are who we make ourselves to be.”

Yes, and it was this same land that soon would tear them apart. Lillian stiffened her resolve, determined not to give in to her yearnings. “How can I simply pretend that my previous life never existed?”

“How can we deny what has brought us to this point? All these years later, I still wake up in the middle of the night from dreaded dreams of the fire that left me fatherless.”

“But of course that was not your fault.”

“No, but it
happened
. It
shaped
me. And with God’s help, I have found lessons and wisdom even in this most bitter of experiences.” He gave her a piercing look. “This is America, Lillian. A man’s worth is measured by the man himself. His own words and his own deeds. That’s what I love about this land. God has helped me grow into a man of worth and taught me to accept the good and the bad, both in my own past and in those around me.”

Lillian nodded slowly. She realized that here in these words lay the deeper significance to the acceptance she had received from these fine people. Here was why they had been so open to her, even after her confession. They were not friends of hers because of the title she had so valued, or the riches she no longer possessed, or her false friends in the royal court. It was astonishing that she could find such clarity in such a heartrending moment. And such love. “You are such a wise man,” she murmured.

“I know what I know, Lillian. You have a fine heart, a great spirit. You sing like an angel. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met.” Reginald’s voice cracked at that point and he tried to cover it with a cough. But he could not quite keep his voice steady as he continued, “And as I sat in church and saw you take the old man’s hand in yours and bow your head . . .”

At that point his voice failed him entirely.

Lillian saw no need for further conversation. Instead, she reached over and settled her hand upon his arm. The effort of controlling the reins bunched and knotted his muscles beneath her touch. The knowledge that Reginald would soon be lost to her left her so undone the road ahead shimmered and swam in a pool of unshed tears.