Into the Wilderness (43 page)

* * *

That
evening, thoroughly rested, Elizabeth stretched out in the comfort of her own
bed, marveling at the agility with which Curiosity had managed the whole
affair. Muttering a steady litany of dire predictions which included fever,
sore throat, and putrefaction, Curiosity had whisked Elizabeth away from the
men and installed her in bed with hot bricks at her feet and a cup of tea at
her elbow. For good measure she had gone down to the kitchen to mix up a
sweet—smelling poultice of onions and mustard seed, which sat now beside
Elizabeth's bed, untouched and congealed in its bowl.

At
first the men had come, one by one, to scratch at the door, but Curiosity had
dealt summarily with all of them, sparing a smile only for Mr. Bennett's good
wishes. Richard's offer of medical services she met with a look of shocked
propriety; she talked down Julian's protests of Elizabeth's solid good health;
she let the judge plead for a few minutes of Elizabeth's time and pacified him
with hopes of a quick recovery. Curiosity had kept them all at bay, allowing
only Daisy and Polly into the room, sending them running silently back and
forth with Elizabeth's wet clothes for all to see, with demands for steaming
kettles and chamomile tea, more vinegar to bathe her forehead, more broth for
her to sip. The men had no chance of prevailing, and after a few halfhearted
attempts, they retired to the parlor. Only the occasional sound of Julian's
raised voice betrayed what might be going on behind that door.

Elizabeth
was safe, for the moment. But only for the moment.

She
was left to nap, to sneeze on occasion, drink tea, think of Nathaniel and the
events of the morning, and weigh her options. Which seemed to be very few and
all very unattractive. If she ventured out of bed, they would congregate in a
moment's time to get her to participate in the signing of the deed. Richard
would first propose to her once again, this time in front of Mr. Bennett, and
that if she were burning with fever and at death's door. Of this Elizabeth had
no doubt.

Curiosity
had summed up the situation in her own way. "You heard tell about that
spot between the rock and the hard place?" she said, eyeing Elizabeth's
healthy color with something bordering on disapproval. "Well, then, missy,
welcome to it."

This
was in the evening, when the men had begun to mill about in the foyer.

"As
bad as crows," Curiosity sniffed. "With the smell of fresh meat in
the air." The sound of steps on the stairs caused her to ruffle up and set
her mouth in a thin line. "I'll deal with 'em."

"No,"
Elizabeth whispered, frowning. "I'll have to talk sooner or later. Perhaps
you should allow Father in." She thought quickly. "Or perhaps Richard."

"Your
daddy." Curiosity agreed reluctantly. "But you forget about Richard.
He know the sound of a cough. Here." She took a brick wrapped in muslin
from its place by the fire. "Hold this to your face."

When
Elizabeth's color had risen perceptibly, Curiosity tucked the brick under the
covers, and with a conspiratorial look, she opened the door to the judge's
tentative knock.

He
stood at the foot of her bed considering her closely. Finally he managed a
smile.

"Well,
my dear," he said. "I suppose this is not the time for a lecture on
the in advisability of walking in the woods."

Elizabeth
almost would have welcomed such a lecture, if it would keep the subject she
feared at bay. But her father had already arrived there.

"So.
You see that Mr. Bennett has come. He is ready to witness the signing of the
deed, which will endow you with a valuable piece of property. May I assume that
this meets with your approval?"

"If
you wish to pass your property over to me, Father, then I will not
object," Elizabeth said. Curiosity was watching her closely; she sneezed
into her handkerchief.

"Good,"
her father said. "Very good. But before we take that step, Richard would
like to speak with you."

Elizabeth
managed to pull herself up to a good height in her bed. She set her face in
what she hoped was an expression of shock.

"You
aren't suggesting that I allow Richard into my room while I am undressed?"

The
judge let out his breath in a hiss. "Well, I suppose—”

“Really,
Father," Elizabeth interrupted, struggling to put away a persistent memory
of herself naked on a bed of furs, with Nathaniel stretched over her.

"He
is a doctor, after all," her father said, quite meekly now. And seeing
that Elizabeth would not be convinced, he added: "Richard does have an
important matter to discuss with you before the deed is signed. One you cannot
be completely ignorant of," he added.

Elizabeth
said, "Perhaps it is just that my head aches, but please do tell me. Is
there some reason that Richard Todd cannot wait with his important matter until
our business with Mr. Bennett is concluded?"

If so
much didn't hang in the balance, Elizabeth might almost have enjoyed watching
her father become flustered. He considered one line of argument and discarded
it; visibly took up another. There was a tick in his cheek.

"Let
me be plain, daughter," he said finally. "I would like to see a
formal agreement between the two of you before any legal arrangements are made
regarding the property."

"I
suspected as much," Elizabeth murmured. As chilling as it was to have this
stated so unequivocally, it gave her room to ask some questions. "And why
is that the case, exactly?"

"It
is the only resolution to a complex of problems which I should not trouble you
with, given your condition." The judge looked quite pleased with this
formulation.

Elizabeth's
fingers twitched and she twisted them in the coverlet lest they give away her
anger.

"’Scuse
me," drawled Curiosity in a dry voice. "This poultice needs looking
after. I'll return directly, Elizabeth."

"Now,"
Elizabeth said when Curiosity had closed the door behind her. "Please tell
me, Father, what influence it is that Richard Todd exerts on you."

But
the judge only raised a brow. "No influence beyond that of a trusted
friend and adviser," he said. "And one I will welcome into the
family."

"Then
it is very unfortunate," Elizabeth said, feeling how anger propelled her
forward but unable to stop herself for the moment, "that you cannot marry
him yourself, for you certainly like him more than I do."

"Elizabeth!"

"No,
let me finish. I'm wondering if it wouldn't be better to sell the land to
Richard outright, and leave me out of this business transaction altogether.
There is not much for me in it, after all." Too late, she asked herself
what would happen if he suddenly decided to do just that.

"No!"
her father said, so loudly that she jumped a little. A look came into his eyes
which would have frightened Elizabeth if it hadn't surprised her so much: he
was desperate. She saw him struggle to compose himself.

"Think,
Elizabeth," he said in a strangled tone. "With you as mistress of the
holdings, you will be able to exert some influence on Richard. In how the
property is managed, for example. And there is a material advantage for you in
this, or I would not allow it. You must believe that."

Elizabeth
was quiet for a moment. There was, after all, nothing more to say. Her father's
motivations, whatever they might be, would not be made clear to her today. He
gave her no choice; he would not trust her with the whole truth. His treatment
was not so much that of a loving and concerned father, but of a panicky
businessman. Threats, right now, could only raise his suspicions. Tears would
do the same, as he had never seen her cry. If she went down to Mr. Bennett and
flatly refused, before him, to marry Richard, what then? The deed would not be
signed, and God only knew what other plan her father might be hatching. She
wondered if his concern for the management of the property was sincere. Family
feelings were, after all, not so very strong in her father; only twice had he
come to England while she was growing up. A thought occurred to her which might
at least gain her a little time.

"I
would like to see the letter from my aunt Merriweather."

Unexpectedly,
the judge colored. "Yes. Of course. It's in the study; I'll have it
brought up to you. Please excuse me now, for the moment, daughter, I must
return to my guest. We will expect you later this evening, when you are feeling
more yourself." But he was already halfway out the door.

* * *

Elizabeth
was close to despair when Curiosity appeared again, this time carrying more
tea, which she deposited unceremoniously on the dresser.

"Get
up, now, Elizabeth, and get dressed. We got to get you downstairs."

"What?"

But
Curiosity had grabbed the covers and flung them back, and had moved off to
select a dress from the few hung on pegs behind the dressing screen.

"I
can't go down there!" Elizabeth shouted in a whisper. "Richard will
corner me immediately."

"Get
dressed," Curiosity said, thrusting a chemise into her arms. "Trouble
down to the Gloves' place, somebody hurt bad."

"The
Gloves?" Elizabeth asked. "I don't understand."

"Child."
Curiosity stood with her hands on her hips and her elbows and chin thrust out.
"Wake up now. You can't always be daydreaming when the fat in the fire.
Somebody hurt down to the Gloves', and they need the doctor."

"They
need Richard?" asked Elizabeth. And then: "They need Richard! But
how—"

Curiosity
yanked Elizabeth's nightgown over her head, and grinned. "For a smart
woman, Elizabeth, you thick as custard at times."

Elizabeth
narrowed her eyes at Curiosity. "Tell me—" she began, but she was
interrupted by the sound of a horse in full gallop approaching the house.

"Never
mind," she said, suddenly full awake. She thrust her arms into the chemise
and began to button it. "How long do you think this emergency will occupy
Dr. Todd?"

"Oh,
by the time they get him there, pretty much all night," Curiosity said, as
she worked Elizabeth's buttons with quick fingers. "Enough time for you to
see to business, at any rate."

* * *

When
Richard had ridden off with Julian in attendance, Elizabeth decided that a
fifteen—minute delay before going downstairs was absolutely necessary. While
she waited, Elizabeth made a bundle, in which she packed two changes of
clothing, some sewing things, an extra pair of walking boots, her hairbrushes,
soap, a small hand mirror, writing materials, her mother's cameo, and the bit
of jewelry she had owned, and after long deliberation, three books. This was an
absorbing and even frightening task, but when she was done she saw by the clock
on the mantel that only five minutes had passed.

The
bundle was too large; there was no doubt of it. She discarded the boots and the
nicer of the two dresses, the hand mirror, and with some regret, the books. She
would leave the jewelry and the cameo at Lake in the Clouds in Hawkeye's care.
Then she sat looking into the fire, and thinking of the way the day had begun.

Elizabeth
touched her mouth with a cold finger, feeling rather than seeing that her lips
were still puffy and a bit tender. As was the saddle of flesh between her legs.
She didn't know if thoughts of Nathaniel could sustain her in the next hour, or
if they would distract. In any case, he could not help her.

She
must do what she needed to do to secure her own future; it was one she hadn't
imagined on coming to Paradise, but it was what she wanted.

Is it?

Instead
of moving into her beautiful new schoolhouse tomorrow, she would be on her way
south, eloping. Eloping. The enormity of it struck her, and she felt her mouth
go dry and sticky. Her students would think terrible things of her; they would
probably hear them from their parents. Nathaniel was well liked, in spite of
his connection to the Mohawk, but they wouldn't like him helping himself to the
judge's daughter, and her property.

Life would be easier if I had never met
him,
she whispered to herself, and was shocked at the sound of the words in the
room. At the truth of them. Without Nathaniel, she could lead a good,
important, rewarding life, teaching the children who came to her with a routine
of books and work. Quiet, peaceful, safe.

Boring.
Lonely. Mastered.

Things
would be hard when they came back to Paradise, but she would build up her
school, slowly. People would get over it, and then life would settle down to a
routine.

Elizabeth
drew a deep breath, touched her handkerchief to the perspiration on her brow,
and went down to the parlor.

* * *

Suddenly
and without a struggle, the judge acquiesced to fate. Richard had been called
away to see to one of the Gloves' slaves who had got his leg wedged underneath
a falling tree on the far side of Hidden Wolf and no one knew how long he would
be gone; Mr. Bennett had obligations in Johnstown and must be away in the
morning. And here was Elizabeth, out of her sickbed to comply with her father's
wishes. There was no excuse the judge could offer that would not look strange
and perhaps occasion questions from Mr. Bennett that he didn't care to answer.