Into the Wilderness (10 page)

The
judge dropped the book on the table. "
The
Rights of Man
cannot be compared to this drivel."

"You
haven't read Mrs. Wollstonecraft, how can you know?"
Elizabeth
said impatiently. And then seeing
that she was not going to sway her father,
Elizabeth
stopped and tried to gather her thoughts.

"Keep
your property and your gift of deed. If you will sign it only on my marriage to
Richard Todd, then it will never be signed. If you continue to attempt to force
me into an alliance which I do not want, I will go back to
England
and
take up my old place in the home of my aunt Merriweather."

The
judge's jaw dropped. "You would not."

"I
would. I came here to be free of the restrictions I lived under in
England
. If
there is no freedom for me here, there is no reason to stay."

Elizabeth
gathered her writing materials together and made her way to the study door.

"I'll
leave the book with you," she said. "In case you care to read any of
it. Now if you will excuse me," she said, "I have to make myself
ready for your party."

* * *

The
parlor was cleared of most of its furniture; only chairs remained in little
groups of threes and fours, and a long table laid with gleaming linen and good
plate ware onto which Curiosity and her daughters had piled food of every
possible kind. The room was lit with beeswax and bayberry candles and a
collection of pewter lamps. Although it was full dark outside, even at five,
the room was as bright as midday.

Elizabeth
went
about her duties as hostess as she had been trained to do since her earliest
girlhood, making sure that everyone was well supplied with food and drink, that
no one was without a conversation partner for long. She smiled and nodded and
answered questions as they came to her, but she was terribly distraught and
sometimes felt that everyone must see this clearly on her face.

It
was her father's duplicity which lay heaviest on her mind.
Elizabeth
could not look at Richard Todd, who
smiled at her kindly and was helpful in every way, without thinking that he and
her father had schemed together behind her back to plan a marriage she did not
want and could not countenance. It was hard to be civil under such
circumstances; it was harder to pretend that nothing was amiss. All of her
plans were in peril.

And
Nathaniel had not come. She was surprised, and a little hurt, and then
distressed at her own reaction. She could not deny to herself that she was
attracted to him, but she also knew that it was an inappropriate preference,
one of which her father would not approve.

Unlike
Elizabeth
,
Julian seemed to be completely amused by his surroundings; everything was to
his liking, nothing could be improved on. There were pretty girls:
Elizabeth
watched him
flirt outrageously with Katherine Witherspoon and with Molly Kaes, a young
woman who ran her father's farm; there were games and dances and absurd
behavior to make light of. There was very little to occupy him except the
things he liked most; he did not take note of his sister's distress.
Elizabeth
knew her
brother too well to expect anything else.

Every
man in the room seemed to want to have a conversation, from the toothless Mr.
Cunningham to Mr. Witherspoon, the minister. There were three or four young men
who seemed to be unattached, and who followed
Elizabeth
with their eyes wherever she went.
This was something unaccustomed for her, as she had grown up with three
prettier cousins.
Elizabeth
had long resigned herself to spinsterhood, in fact, she found certain promises
and comforts in the idea, and she was not pleasantly surprised or flattered by
this unexpected and unwanted attention. She did not believe that these men were
interested in anything but her father's holdings. But she managed to deflect
their advances without hurting many feelings, by gesturing to the guests she
must greet and look after. Only Richard Todd was truly persistent; he would not
be put off and followed her around the room until she realized she must spend
at least a few minutes talking with him.

Dr.
Todd wore an expensively cut coat of deep blue with brass buttons, and a stock
of linen and lace at his throat. His breeches were perfectly skin—tight and
showed not a wrinkle from the floral waistcoat to the knee. He had trimmed his
beard and cut his hair and his manners and address were everything polite and
refined. He complimented
Elizabeth
on the brilliancy of her complexion, on the beautiful simplicity of her deep
green gown, and on the wonderful table. She accepted some compliments
graciously, disavowed any credit for preparations for the party—never letting
him see that it was not a compliment to assume she had been busy in the
kitchen. He worked very hard at presenting himself as a gentleman, and she did
not want to embarrass him.

"You
are an admirer of Mrs. Wollstonecraft," Richard Todd said when a lull had
come once again into their conversation. "I saw your copy of
Vindication
and your father told me you
had lent it to him."

Elizabeth
glanced at him. "Yes. It is my book." She hesitated. "You are
familiar with Mrs. Wollstonecraft's work?"

"I
haven't read her volume," Richard Todd said. "But I would like
to."

"Really,"
said
Elizabeth
,
her face averted. "I am surprised that her writings interest you."

"Because
I have slaves?"

"Because
you have slaves."

They
were silent for a long moment.

"I
inherited my slaves from an uncle," Dr. Todd said finally.

Elizabeth
did
not answer.

"There
may be circumstances of which you can't be aware, which would make you less
severe upon me in this matter," he added.

Elizabeth
was
a little engaged by his honesty; it was hard not to be. But she remained silent
to see what else he might volunteer.

"When
they are twenty—one, I will give them their freedom," he added, clearly
discomfited.

"Not
on my account," said
Elizabeth
.

"In
part," he conceded.

Elizabeth
wondered if he was sincere, and decided to test him.

"Then
do it today," she said. "It would be a fitting thing to do on the
Christmas."

"Does
Mrs. Wollstonecraft write about slavery as well as women's education?" he
asked, changing the subject.

"She
writes about liberty, which is relevant to all peoples."

She
caught his smile and stiffened.

"No!"
he said, trying to catch her eye. "I was not laughing at you. I was just
thinking how much like a schoolmistress you sound."

"Like
a bluestocking,"
Elizabeth
agreed. She stood and smoothed her skirt. "I am a bluestocking, Dr.
Todd."

"You
don't look anything like a spinster schoolteacher."

"You
needn't make me compliments," she said. "I'm not used to them and
they won't find an eager target."
Elizabeth
was shocked but pleased that she could find it in herself to be so blunt, as
blunt as she wanted to be. As blunt as a man talking to another man. But
Richard Todd was not put off.

"That
is very unfortunate," he said calmly. "Because they are meant
sincerely. You do not look like a schoolteacher."

"You
are wrong," she said. "A schoolteacher is just what I am, and what I
plan will always be."

Her
father approached them and
Elizabeth
panicked at the idea of carrying on this conversation with her father in
attendance. In a moment she had excused herself and disappeared into the hall
and up the stairs to her room.

The
sounds of the party rose up to
Elizabeth
where she stood at her window. The winter night was very clear: the moonlight
reflecting on snow let her see almost to the village. In a moment
Elizabeth
had made up her
mind to steal away for a walk, and she made her way back down to the hall,
where she quickly found her heavy cloak and mittens, pushed her feet into her
sturdiest boots, and hurried outside.

The
night was as cold as it was clear; almost full, the moon hung low over the
mountain, shimmering silver—white and gray, illuminating the snow.
Elizabeth
breathed in
deeply and wrapped the cloak more tightly around herself, pulling the hood up.
Taking note of her direction, she set off on a small path through the snow,
thinking to walk only ten minutes, to clear her head of the party and Richard
Todd.

She
knew men like him in
England
.
The only difference between Dr.Todd and them, she was forced to acknowledge,
was that in
England
men like the doctor—in possession of fortune and good connections—did not need
bother with young ladies past their prime. He was a confusing man; she could
not reconcile his manner, which was pleasing, with what she knew about him. She
thought again of her earlier conversation with her father and she almost despaired.

She
had been walking for just five minutes on the path when she entered the first
woods, and there she saw a solitary figure ahead of her.
Elizabeth
stopped and looked about herself,
wondering what to think of a stranger out at this time of the night, when she
recognized that it was Nathaniel Bonner walking toward her. Surprise lodged in
her throat and slid down slowly to rest in her chest.

He
stopped before her and nodded. "Boots," he greeted her.

She
bit down on the urge to grin at his name for her.

"Good
evening," she said. "I thought you would bring your father—and your
daughter."

If he
was surprised at her mention of his daughter, Nathaniel did not show it.
"They're on their way to the party from our cabin, on the other side of
the lake. I been out checking trap lines for hours."

Elizabeth
glanced back over her shoulder toward the brightly lit house, just visible from
where she stood.

"I
didn't see them. Maybe I just missed them."

"The
party didn't amuse you, then?"

She
turned away so that he couldn't see her face; she thought she could not hide
her unhappiness from him, and she was uneasy and shy.

"I
should go back," she said. Then, suddenly resolute, she faced Nathaniel.

"Well,
I must be honest enough to admit to you that you were right. About my father.
About his plans for me."

"Richard
Todd," said Nathaniel flatly.

"Yes,
Richard Todd." Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath.

"I
don't know why I am telling you this. Two days ago you were a stranger to
me."

He
was silent.

"Yes,
I do know," Elizabeth corrected herself. "You have been honest with
me, and I find that honesty is as hard to come by here as it was in
England."

Nathaniel
looked toward the house and then back to Elizabeth, who stood with her face
averted toward the woods.

"Are
you too cold to walk for another few minutes?"

They
set off down the path the way he had come. It wound through the woods for a
quarter mile and then crossed a frozen stream. Here they sat on tree stumps in
a small clearing. The night was very quiet, all the sound in the world
seemingly drawn into the blanket of snow. Elizabeth heard her own breath and
saw it in a hazy cloud before her.

"Todd
is a smart man," Nathaniel said. "His uncle left him considerable
money, and land. I have known him to deal straight with every white man who
comes his way."
 

Startled,
Elizabeth did what she had been studiously avoiding: she looked directly into
Nathaniel's face and she saw that he was sincere. Why he should be promoting
her connection to Richard Todd was unclear to her, and it caused her
considerable distress to think she must take up this argument with him.

"I
came to this country to live a life unavailable to me in England,"
Elizabeth said shortly. "I have no intention of marrying Richard
Todd." She lifted up her chin and laughed, a trembling laugh. "There
are many things I want to ask you, because somehow it seems to me that you are
the only one who will tell me the truth of things." Her smile faded away.
"But none of it may matter, after all."