Into the Wilderness (124 page)

"He
is not
my
Will Spencer,"
Elizabeth said, her irritation getting the upper hand. "He is an old
friend and my cousin's husband. I can see nothing saint like about him at
all."

"Well,
you don't share a bed with him." Nathaniel grinned; his mood was shifting
as clearly as the moon moved down the night sky."Maybe that's what your
aunt meant when she said you did better for yourself than Amanda."

She
rolled onto her back to glare at him. "Your ears are altogether too sharp.
That comment was not meant for you to hear."

"Really?"
he said, one brow raised. "I ain't so sure about that." He seemed on
the verge of saying more, and then he stopped, and ran a finger down her neck
and into the opening of her nightdress.

"I'll
spend some time with Will this week, see if I'm wrong."

"Good,"
Elizabeth
said,
somewhat mollified. And then, after a long pause while his finger traced her
collarbone: "It's late, perhaps we should sleep."

"Aye,
I can see you're tired." His hand continued on its quest over her
shoulder. "Tell me to stop, then."

She
made a small sound in the back of her throat, and closed her eyes. "It is
very late," she said hoarsely.

"Tell
me to stop." His breath was very warm against her ear.

"I
don't want to," she said, turning to him. "You think you're the only
one with strong appetites, Nathaniel Bonner. Well, I am here to prove you
wrong."

He
laughed then, his hands moving on her, stripping her nightdress away. Even in
the gentle touch of candlelight his expression was severe with desire. And it
struck her suddenly that Amanda did not know of this, might have never known
what it was to see this look in her husband's face, to feel wanted in this way.
Elizabeth
tried
to imagine that, the lack of wanting in Nathaniel's eyes, and she was
overwhelmed with thankfulness for him, for his hands beneath her and his strong
kisses, the touch of his tongue. When he was over her she spread her hands on
his back and arched up to meet him to tell him so, but he took the words from
her, stole them from her with his look, that look that came over him when he
was inside her: intent on more, always more, intent on disappearing into her,
on becoming part of her, sweat and blood and seed.

"You
see?" he said, stealing her words and then feeding them back to her,
stroke by stroke: "You see?"

Elizabeth's
week was consumed by aunt Merriweather. On those few days that she was not
expected at her father's, her aunt came to spend the day on the mountain. She
sometimes brought Amanda and Will with her but more often came alone,
accompanied only by Galileo, or Benjamin. She drew everyone who came across her
path into conversation, curious about each small detail of life at
Lake
in the Clouds. Examining the pelts on their
stretchers, Aunt Merriweather expressed a strong inclination to see an animal
which could produce a fur of such value and utility. Between Runs-from-Bears
and Hannah, she marched off to the nearest beaver pond at dusk and waited
patiently, getting her boots wet but coming back to the cabin highly satisfied
with her success.

She
had soon won most of them over: Falling—Day's reservations seemed to give way
quite quickly, and while Liam was openly jealous of the way Elizabeth's aunt
could claim Hannah's attention, he himself went out of the way to present a
good picture to the old lady, even asking for a comb on one occasion when she
was expected. Only Many-Doves remained distant, and watchful, unmoved by the
gifts that had been brought for her from Montreal, polite at all times but
unwilling to be drawn in. It was Many-Doves who gave aunt Merriweather her
Kahnyen’keháka name: She—Pulls—the—Winds—Behind—Her.
Elizabeth
smiled uneasily when she heard it,
but she could not deny that it was appropriate.

Elizabeth
left
her aunt alone with Nathaniel for short periods of time, and thought perhaps
that with enough exposure they might come to like each other. Of course,
Elizabeth
did not mention
to him her aunt's proposed scheme for laying pipe to bring water into the
cabin, or for improvements to the chimney. Nor did she tell him about the many
suggestions for more, traditional furnishings, stout shoes, flannel
undergarments, the addition of pork to their diet or brood hens to their
livestock.

Most
of the time she was alone with her aunt, and little by little she had the
stories of her first year in the New World drawn out of her. Some things
Elizabeth did keep back, quickly relearning the skill of deflecting curiosity
when it strayed into dangerous areas. She did not, would never, tell her the
whole story of Jack Lingo, for she believed she knew the limits of her aunt's
open—mindedness. They spoke of
England
,
too, and of uncle Merriweather's death. Then, on a cold afternoon with the
newly harvested pumpkins and squashes piled around them like a galaxy of small
glowing suns in the coming dusk, they spoke of Julian, and
Elizabeth
saw tears in her aunt's eyes, and
found her own, then, finally.

On
the day before they planned to begin the return trip to Albany, Elizabeth took
Hannah with her to spend the day at her father's, leaving a disgruntled Liam
behind in Falling—Day's care. It was to be one of Aunt's traditional teas: the
men were banished, and the women could sit comfortably and talk openly.

They
were a small group: Aunt Merriweather,
Elizabeth
,
Amanda, Hannah, and Kitty freshly out of childbed. There were dark smudges
under her eyes, and her hands shook slightly.
Elizabeth
had seen that expression before,
when her cousin Jane's new daughter had been two weeks old. As if the infant's
constant demands had caused Jane to forget the boundaries of her own body.

Elizabeth
knew
that Kitty's condition did not escape her aunt, but in a very uncharacteristic
way she overlooked the slightly rumpled gown and unkempt hair. Aunt
Merriweather had plans for this tea, and Kitty would not be excused until she
was satisfied.

Curiosity
filled the sideboard with scones and cakes and tea brewed according to
directions, and then disappeared into the back of the house, where
Elizabeth
followed her to
ask for her company at the table. She had been feeling vaguely worried about
Curiosity all week, ill at ease about the way she had vanished suddenly into
the guise of a household servant in the shadow of aunt Merriweather's
expectations.

"She
don't want nobody like me at her tea table," Curiosity said firmly, fixing
her attention on the churn. "You go on now, and talk to them. Tomorrow
they'll be gone and things will get back to normal around here." She
scooped up another slab of pale butter beaded with water, slapped it onto the
mound on the board before her, and began to work it mercilessly with her
paddles.

"She
means well, Curiosity."

"Yas'm,
the lady is just a visitor and don't wish to cause no disruption in the
household. I heard tell."

Elizabeth
could not suppress her smile. "I'm very thankful to you for all the
trouble you've taken under challenging circumstances. But please do come,
Curiosity. I believe that she's planning to bring up the subject of Richard,
and your word counts for very Much with Kitty."

The
tension in the bony shoulders eased a little. "I don't do anything but
show her the way. The same way I will do for you and for my own daughters, when
the time come. with a little
charity
,"
she added, pointedly. She sent Elizabeth a sideways glance. "What's this
about Richard Todd?"

Once
Elizabeth
had related aunt Merriweather's predictions
about Richard's return to
Paradise
and a
renewed interest not so much in Kitty, but in Julian's widow, Curiosity took
off her apron, wrapped a fresh bandanna around her head and joined them. There
was some irony in the fact that it took Richard to unite Curiosity and Augusta
Merriweather in a common cause, which
Elizabeth
appreciated but could not mention to either of them.

"But
I don't understand," Kitty said when the subject had finally been
broached. She had been concentrating on the child in her lap, and her gaze
shifted only reluctantly to the women seated around the table, all with their
attention on her.

"Kitty,"
said Curiosity, rattling the spoon against her saucer to get her attention. "There's
a simple question here, child. What are you going to say to the man when he
shows up and starts talking marriage again?"

Elizabeth
might have laughed at aunt Merriweather's expression, divided evenly between
reluctant admiration and horror at such an uncloaked presentation of the facts.
She might have laughed, if it were not for the puzzled and distinctly defiant
crease between Kitty's brows.

"I
cannot imagine that he should," Kitty said. "I am a widow, now, after
all."

"Men
rarely forget about money and connections," aunt Merriweather said. "It
is one of their more dependable appetites."

Hannah
looked wide—eyed from face to face, her cake forgotten on the plate before her.
Elizabeth
wished suddenly that she had left the
little girl behind at
Lake
in the Clouds, but
there was almost no way to turn back the conversation at this point, and Hannah
would never leave without a struggle.

"You
do not know Richard as I do," Kitty said firmly. "No one does. I grew
up with him, and I can appeal to his better nature. If I should have that
chance."

"That
is the worst kind of folly for a woman, to think that she can change a man by
marrying him," aunt Merriweather said.

"You
heard tell of the tiger and those stripes he so fond of," Curiosity
agreed.

Elizabeth
cleared her throat. "What we are trying to say, Kitty, is that if Richard
is still interested in marriage when he returns, we hope you would think very
carefully about his motivations before you reconsider."

Kitty's
head came up quickly, her cheeks sparked with red. As if he understood the fact
that he was at the center of this controversy, the baby on her lap began to
fuss. Amanda leaned over to burble at him. He settled, mouthing his fist with
great sucking noises.

"I
am not so sure of any of this," Kitty said finally in a strangled tone,
refusing to meet anyone's eye.

"Katherine,"
aunt Merriweather said sternly. "Perhaps I must be blunt. You are no
longer without connections. To marry is to compromise what you have
gained."

With
a rebellious flash in her mild blue eyes, Kitty said: "That did not stop
your niece."

There
was an immediate response on Elizabeth's lips, but her aunt silenced her with a
severe glance. "Let me understand you clearly, then.
 
You intend on marrying Dr. Todd should he
renew his offer?"

Kitty's
chin trembled, but she held it high. "I will listen to what he has to
say."

"It's
what menfolk
don't
say that's the
problem," Curiosity muttered.

Kitty
stood up abruptly. "I think it is very cruel of you to talk to me this
way, all of you. I have lost my husband so recently, and you are asking me to
put aside the friendship of the one person in the world who has always stood by
me."

Curiosity
reared up to face the younger girl, fists on hips. "Now I got to tell the
truth and shame the devil," she interrupted, sucking in one cheek and
pushing it out again. "I don't see Dr. Todd hiding around here. I didn't
see him here even a week ago worried about was you going to bring that child
into the world without a name, or not."

"He
would have come, if he had been able," Kitty said, jiggling the baby madly
against her shoulder. He let out a wail almost as indignant and sorrowful as
the look on her face.

"Oh,
dear." Amanda sent a pleading look to her mother, whose thunderous
expression was fixed on Kitty.
Elizabeth
wished
now that they had told her about Richard's activities in
Montreal
, as painful as it would have been to
her.

Kitty
said: "You need not pity me. Richard will come still. He promised me that
he would. And if he still wants to marry me although I am a widow, then why
should I not—" Her gaze moved around the table in search of a kind and
understanding face, but found only dismay, irritation, and anger. "How
else shall I ever get out of this village and into the world?"

"Katherine
Middleton," said aunt Merriweather calmly. "The world is yours
without
Richard Todd, if you so desire
it. You and your son are welcome at Oakmere whenever you like. You can make
your home with me."

"--Or
with us, at Downings. We would love to have you." Amanda broke in on her
mother.