Into the Wilderness (35 page)

Richard
seemed to come suddenly awake. He gave Elizabeth a grim little smile.
"Does he?"

Anna
had been watching the exchange quite eagerly. "Now, you men." she
interjected, handing Elizabeth a wrapped parcel of handkerchiefs. "Don't
make the schoolteacher blush. A lady ain't supposed to be too clear on matters
such as these." She stood back and looked Elizabeth over as if she were a
daughter in need of comfort and protection rather than a woman almost thirty,
just a few years younger than herself. "It was good to have you come by
and I hope you'll come again soon to talk when the menfolk ain't quite so
troublesome."

"Thank
you," Elizabeth said. "I'd like that." And she was surprised to
note that she was not just being polite, that she meant it. Anna's
straightforwardness was welcome to her after so many weeks of playacting.

Suddenly
Elizabeth remembered something and she turned to Richard.

"I
thought you were leaving for Johnstown today."

"Hitty
Cameron had her pains start," said Richard. "And by the time she was
safely delivered, it was too late to set out."

"Is
that so?" asked Anna eagerly. "Has she got a girl or a boy?"

"A
fine, healthy son," said Richard with a nod.

"Hitty
Cameron?" Elizabeth was still having trouble sorting out the villagers.
"Has she married one of Archie Cunningham's sons?"

"Well,
now," said Anna easily. "She ain't exactly anybody's wife just yet,
but I expect that she and Noah will go to housekeeping now that they've got a
boy."

"Oh,"
said Elizabeth, flustered. She had heard of this local habit of starting a
family before marriage, but it was a difficult one to come to grips with.

"Very
well for Hitty," said Julian impatiently, trying to urge Elizabeth toward
the door. "But it's time for my tea now and I'm afraid I'm not willing to
wait any longer. Are you two coming along or not?"

"Go
on ahead," Richard said, before Elizabeth could answer. "I will see
your sister home."

Julian
raised an eyebrow in question at Elizabeth, and she gave him reluctant nod. He
shrugged his shoulders and took his leave from the men at the hearth.
"I'll be back to hear more about that gold," he called to Axel with a
flourish, and the door fell shut behind him.

* * *

"Is
there anything I may bring you from Johnstown?" Richard asked when he had
settled Elizabeth into his sleigh and tucked the lap robes around her.

"Is
that what you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked, surprised.

"No,
but it will do for a start. And do I need a reason to talk to you?" he
asked, clucking to the chestnut geldings to set them on their way.

Elizabeth
had quickly realized that the hardest part of her role in the current affair
was not missing Nathaniel, but coping with Richard. His possessiveness was a
trial she had not really anticipated. She felt his gaze on her now, a sidelong
glance of paternalistic condescension which marked her his asset, his
almost—wife. Sometimes it was more than she could bear.

"I
suppose not," she said tightly.

"Miz
Elizabeth!" called a young voice, and Elizabeth smiled and waved at Peter
Dubonnet, the youngest of her schoolboys. She was surprised to see him salute
her with an axe; he was a slight child, and she wouldn't have thought him
strong enough to be effective at splitting kindling. But a half—filled wicker
basket stood to one side and he turned back to it as the sleigh moved on. In
the classroom Peter had the serious demeanor of a child with too much
responsibility, and Elizabeth wondered where Claude Dubonnet kept himself while
his son chopped wood.

"There
might be mail waiting in Johnstown," Richard was saying, and Elizabeth
turned back to the conversation at hand.

"I
suppose there might be," she agreed.

"Perhaps
word from your aunt Merriweather."

"Yes,"
said Elizabeth, now more distinctly uncomfortable. "Perhaps. Will you be
disappointed if there is none?"

Immediately
Elizabeth regretted this question. She dared not look at Richard, and so she
looked instead at the way the softened snow puckered and fell in on itself over
Henry Smythe's fallow cornfields.

"I
am a patient man," Richard said finally.

"I
see that you are," Elizabeth said. "If I may make an observation, you
are also a stubborn one."

He
shrugged a bit, as if to concede this point. Irritated, Elizabeth decided to
have her way just this once with Richard, and risk the possibility of putting
him off

"When
are you going to tell me about your childhood?" she said to him. "You
seem to always evade the subject."

"The
way you are evading the subject of my proposal?"

"We
have discussed your proposal at length, on a number of occasions,"
retorted Elizabeth. "You have yet to tell me anything about your
childhood."

"You're
mighty interested in stories today," Richard said, clearly put out.

"Do
you mean Jack Lingo?" Elizabeth said.

He
grunted.

"It
was an interesting story, but it has nothing to do with the matter at
hand."

"There's
nothing to tell," Richard said stiffly.

"Between
strangers, perhaps not," Elizabeth said, just as stiffly. She wondered
herself why she was being so insistent about this, why it seemed so important
to get Richard to talk about his time with the Mohawk.

"Are
we to be strangers no longer, then?" Richard asked in a voice which struck
Elizabeth as toneless and, at the same time, vaguely threatening.

The
sleigh track entered a narrow place where the river negotiated between a steep
hillside and a wall of rock, so that the path bordered directly on the water,
rushing high now with icy runoff from the mountain. Just beyond the turning,
Elizabeth knew, her father's house would come into view. But right here they
were not visible from the house or from the village. With considerable
discomfort Elizabeth watched as Richard brought the sleigh to a halt.

This is what my curiosity reaps
, she
thought to herself grimly. For weeks now she had managed to avoid this kind of
encounter with Richard, but there was nowhere to go, no excuse to be made.

"Elizabeth."

She
met his gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"Do
you believe that your aunt will give her blessing to the match between
us?"

Elizabeth
called up an image of aunt Merriweather. She was a kind but sometimes rash
woman of strong opinions, and one of those opinions was that a woman without
considerable resources of her own was better off married. Love was not a staple
of aunt Merriweather's philosophy, and she would not know what to make of
Nathaniel. Richard, on the other hand, would be a more familiar kind of
creature to her in spite of his unconventional childhood.

"I
really don't know," said Elizabeth finally.

"Will
you go against her wishes if she does not support your plans to marry?"

What a fortuitous formulation,
Elizabeth thought.
At least in answering
this I can look him straight in the eye.
"If I feel that it is in my
best interest to marry, I will do so, even if my aunt does not agree."

"And
have you decided whether it is in your best interest?" He was leaning
toward her now, not with a look that was passionate, but with the focused
demeanor of a man who knew how to do a job, and was determined not to cut
corners.

"Perhaps,"
Elizabeth said, willing her voice to be steady, but knowing that it creaked a
bit. She put out her hand against richard's shoulder in a clear attempt to stop
him, but he caught it in his own and brought it up to his mouth. Elizabeth
snatched it away with a little indrawn breath.

"I'm
a patient man, Elizabeth," Richard said, his brow folded in a line which
said just the opposite. "But I'm not a fool."

Elizabeth
experienced a most inopportune and almost irrepressible urge to giggle. She bit
the inside of her cheek hard, trying to focus her thoughts and bring herself to
reason. It was imperative that she remain calm and friendly and also crucial
that she find a formulation which would reach him. And quickly.

"Your
advances are most inappropriate, Richard," she said in a tone she hoped
was sweet, but feared was sharp. "Have you no respect for my good
name?"

Relieved,
Elizabeth saw him draw up at this. He was already sitting back, a surprised but
not completely dissatisfied look on his face, when the rock face began to
slide.

At
first there was a sharp crack like the sound of a branch snapping under a load
of snow, followed by a rustling. A shower of pebbles and ice fell over them,
and before it was clear to Elizabeth what was happening, the horses had begun
to rear. With a muttered oath, Richard reached for the reins but they slipped
away from him and over the lip of the dashboard. A large spar of rock fell just
then, and Elizabeth saw it bounce off the back of one horse and strike the
next.

"Hold
tight!" he bellowed, lunging after the reins as the sleigh lurched and
then began to fly forward, rocking madly from side to side.

Numbly,
Elizabeth did as she was told. She braced her feet and fixed her hands on the
dashboard. The wind ripped her hood from her head and she felt a spattering of
wet snow across her cheek and mouth. The air seemed suddenly very cold, and it
was hard to breathe in spite of the great wind in her face. The horses careened
around the corner, setting the sleigh tipping for a brief and terrifying moment
on one set of runners.

Then
the path straightened out and the sleigh slammed down once again with a jolt,
the runners screeching. Richard was leaning out over the backs of the geldings,
shouting to them, but they raced on, great gouts of ice and mush hurtling up
from their hooves.

Elizabeth
closed her eyes and tried to remember a prayer, any prayer, but none came to
her, and it was more terrifying to be blind to the dangers than to watch them.

When
she opened her eyes, Nathaniel was running toward them. Numbly, she realized
that he must have been hunting, for he came leaping downhill, racing on an
angle to intercept the team.

Richard
was raging at the horses. There was just a split second for Elizabeth to note
to herself, quite insanely, that she was finally seeing that part of Dr. Todd
which he kept so carefully hidden from her, when Nathaniel launched himself at
the team, grabbing the bridle and pulling the horses to a stop with his own
weight.

For a
moment the only sound was the rough belling of the dogs, who settled at a
single sharp word from Nathaniel. The whole episode had lasted only seconds,
Elizabeth was sure, but she felt as though a century had passed.

Slowly,
almost majestically, Richard rose from the sleigh and pointed a finger in
Nathaniel's direction. Elizabeth saw that it trembled slightly, and she looked
up, alarmed, to see that Richard fought for his breath, his chest heaving. His
color was coleric, and his voice wavered.

"This
was your doing!"

"Richard!"
Shocked, Elizabeth reached up a hand to touch his arm. From the corner of her
eye she watched Nathaniel take this in; she sensed rather than saw him stiffen.

"I
believe Nathaniel deserves our thanks," she said, withdrawing her hand.

"He
deserves a beating," bellowed Richard in response.

"He
saved our lives!" Elizabeth shot back at him.

"He
tried to kill us," Richard corrected her without taking his eyes from
Nathaniel.

"If
you can't get a hold of your team," Nathaniel said, "then at least get
a hold of yourself, man."

Beside
Elizabeth, Richard stilled suddenly in a way which was more frightening than
any shouting. Elizabeth sent a beseeching look to Nathaniel.

"Please—"
she began, and then faltered.
Please, she
wanted to say, please stop this, I'm frightened. Please. Come here and let me
look at you.
A glance passed between them, and Elizabeth saw Nathaniel call
himself to order, the tension leaving his jaw slowly.

"I
heard the shot," Richard said, his fists balled at his side.

"Shot?"
asked Elizabeth, incredulous. "What shot?"

"Somebody
shot at the rock face," Richard spat out without even looking at her.
"
Nathaniel
shot at the rock face
to make it slide," he corrected himself.

"That's
a damn fool thing to say," responded Nathaniel in a strangely reasonable
tone. "And once you calm down and think it over, you'll see that for
yourself. Now," he continued, touching his cap in deference to Elizabeth.
He let his gaze shift over her face one beat too long. "I'm glad I could
be of help and I'll be on my way again." He whistled to the dogs, and
without another word to them, he slipped into the woods.

With
a sinking feeling, Elizabeth watched him go. She knew she should look away,
that Richard was watching, but it was impossible. She could not. In the confusion
of the past few minutes, she realized, he had not once used her name.