Into the Wilderness (46 page)

Elizabeth
didn't know what to make of this man, but he certainly was not the prim and
disapproving country gentleman she had expected. He shook hands with such
enthusiasm that she found herself grinning absurdly.

"Good
to see you, Anton," said Nathaniel with a broad grin of his own. "Let
me make you acquainted—"

But
at that moment the children, who had heard the commotion and given up their
game, arrived on the scene. They were older than Elizabeth had first thought,
boys of about fourteen, and a girl perhaps twelve with plaits flying free and
wild, her cheeks red with exertion and her dress ripped. There was a moment of
frozen silence, and then the whole band of them launched themselves at
Runs-from-Bears, the boys in a unified front at his head, the girl flinging
herself around his torso. In no time at all they had pulled him down to the
ground and sat, looking pleased with themselves, on his chest and arms.

It
was Elizabeth's strong impression that Runs-from-Bears, thoughtful and serious
as was his habit, was enjoying this game. Otherwise, she reasoned, he could
simply have tossed them off. He had a smile on his face which said this was an
indignity he could live with. That lasted as long as the first pinch, which one
of the boys inflicted with a total lack of decorum to Runs-from-Bears' nose.

"It's
all right." Nathaniel laughed at Elizabeth's horrified look. "They
just need to get this out of the way."

The
wrestling match which followed was punctuated by a conversation which made it
clear that the youngsters and Runs-from-Bears all considered this confrontation
fair price to pay for stepping onto their territory. Anton was watching them
with some great amusement, his hamlike fists on his hips, when he seemed
suddenly to remember his company.

"Come
on now, enough for the moment. Your granny will be wondering what we're up to.
And where's the general? Johnnie!" He turned and started back toward the
house in a thumping march, turning back toward them so suddenly that his wig
threatened to part company with the shiny slope of his head.

"Boys!
Mathilde! Leave Bears alone before he decides you'll do for his dinner!"
And he laughed uproariously at his own wit. "Aren't you coming?" he
said to Nathaniel and Elizabeth. "Let's go up to the house, see what's
keeping General Schuyler and the missus."

Nathaniel
took Elizabeth by the arm and with a backward glance at the wrestling match
that carried on behind them, he set off.

"Who
is that?" she whispered when the big man was a few steps ahead of them and
bellowing once again toward the house.

"Anton
Meerschaum. The overseer. Look," Nathaniel said, "here she comes.
Brace yourself for Mrs. Schuyler."

* * *

It
was a bit like being enveloped in a great warm fog. Mrs. Catherine Schuyler
took one long look at Elizabeth, listened to Nathaniel's brief introduction,
and drew her into her home and her protection without a question or word of
doubt.

In a
short time she saw her guests settled at her good dining table. The door to the
kitchen passage began to swing busily and in minutes two young women had set
and filled the board, casting shy glances not so much at Elizabeth as at
Nathaniel. There was no opportunity for talk but Elizabeth was not unhappy with
that for the moment. She listened to Mrs. Schuyler ask Nathaniel and
Runs-from-Bears about people and happenings in Paradise, and she realized with
some surprise how familiar the woman was with the smallest circumstances of her
home.

When
they had eaten—Elizabeth managed only some ale, cold fowl, and bit of
bread—Mrs. Schuyler put her small hands flat on the table before her. This was
a strange gesture; Elizabeth's own hands were folded tightly in her lap. But it
was also, somehow, a comforting one, as it matched the kind but firm set on the
woman's face.

"Tell
me, Miss Middleton," she began. "How exactly it is that you come to
visit us in the company of Nathaniel Bonner and Runs-from-Bears?"

In
the months Elizabeth had spent in the city of New—York waiting to travel north,
and the four months she had been in Paradise, she had slowly become familiar
with what Yorkers called straightforwardness of purpose. But still, Mrs.
Schuyler's directness took her by surprise. Elizabeth glanced at Nathaniel and
saw that he was not in the least worried by the nature of the question. On the
river he had been cautious and watchful and tense, but here he was relaxed. He
shrugged at her, as if to push her off on her own in this conversation.

"We
are—were—on our way to Albany," she began. And then, realizing how
important it was to remain calm and to keep Mrs. Schuyler's gaze firmly in her
own, she continued. "I have some business to attend to. And we are to
marry there." And then, calmly: "Nathaniel and I."

"That
much I assumed," Mrs. Schuyler replied. "Are you eloping?"

"I
am twenty—nine years old," Elizabeth replied slowly. "And I have
decided to marry."

Mrs.
Schuyler's round face had been calm, even impassive, but now there was a little
tic at the corner of her mouth.

"Your
father does not approve of your choice?"

"I
haven't sought his permission," she said. "For reasons that I do not
wish to share." Too late, Elizabeth realized what Mrs. Schuyler would most
certainly assume as the most probable reason for wanting to marry in haste. In
the same moment, she also realized that this might in fact be the case. She had
been calm, but now she felt herself coloring, but she kept her gaze on Mrs.
Schuyler and would not look away.

"Well,
Miss Middleton," Mrs. Schuyler said. "I think very little of elopements,
I must tell you. Our eldest daughter eloped and it was a terrible day for me. A
terrible day. But then again, these are different circumstances and you strike
me as an intelligent woman."

She
addressed the men without looking away from Elizabeth.

"Is
she that, Nathaniel?"

"She
is," he said, almost grimly.

"Does
she get on with Hannah?"

He
nodded. "Aye."

"And
Bears, what do you think?"

"I
think she has earned the name Chingachgook gave to her, Bone—in—Her—Back,"
said Runs-from-Bears." But today I gave her the name Looks—Hard."

This
was the longest sentence Elizabeth had ever heard from him in English, and
certainly the most startling thing she had heard him say as well. She thought
of the canoe, and her careful study of Nathaniel, and she bit down hard on her
cheek, determined not to say a word.

"But
she thinks hard, too," he finished with a rare grin.

Mrs.
Schuyler seemed to come to a conclusion. "I would say she must," she
said with a sudden smile that transformed her face into something almost pretty.
"To see the value of Nathaniel Bonner where other Englishwomen would see
only buckskin and hands that know the meaning of work." She nodded to
Elizabeth. "Your father is a business associate of my husband's," she
said. "And we owe him our friendship. But Cora Bonner was more than a
sister to me, and my eldest son would not be alive today without Nathaniel's
help in a most difficult time. He has a home with us, whenever he should wish
to claim it. Now, so do you, as his wife."

"She
ain't my wife yet," Nathaniel said. "But we was hoping you could lend
a hand and call in the preacher."

There
was a scuffle at the door, and a giggle. Mrs. Schuyler sent a disapproving look
in that direction. "We hadn't planned on a wedding today," she said.
"But we would be honored, Nathaniel. I believe that the preparations have
already commenced." There was another stifled laugh from behind the
kitchen door. She rose.

"I
have some things to speak to the housekeeper about if there's to be a wedding—”

“We
don't need anything too fancy," said Nathaniel. "Just a legal
ceremony and your good wishes'd be appreciated."

"Is
that so?" Catherine Schuyler smiled. "I think it will take a bit more
than that. I need to talk to my Sally about shifting the girls around so that
we can provide Miss Middleton with a room."

"We
won't be staying the night," said Nathaniel. "We've got to be on the
way to Albany."

Mrs.
Schuyler had been moving toward the kitchen passageway door, but she stopped,
and drew herself up to her full height before facing Nathaniel.

"Nonsense,"
she said. "You will have your wedding dinner with us, and retire here,
like the civilized people you are. Whatever business you have in Albany can
wait until tomorrow." Her look dared Nathaniel to challenge her.

Elizabeth
knew that Nathaniel's worries were well founded. In the hurried conversations
with Hawkeye before they left, it had become clear to all of them that it was
not enough for Nathaniel to marry Elizabeth. It was crucial that they file the
paperwork in Albany and that Nathaniel pay the taxes as her husband, so that
there could be no challenge to the validity of the deed of gift, or her status
as a married woman. All this had to happen before Richard Todd or her father
could raise suspicions that might slow down any part of the process.

"We
should be on our way," Elizabeth agreed, regretfully. "Although your
kind offer is greatly appreciated." She would have liked to spend her
wedding night here in the privacy of a room of her own rather than out in the
open with Runs-from-Bears nearby.

"There's
business needs doing in Albany, and it can't wait," Nathaniel added.

Mrs.
Schuyler's bright blue eyes narrowed just slightly as she looked back and forth
between them.

"What
business is that?" she asked finally.

"I
have some property," Elizabeth said. "The taxes need to be paid. And
there are some debts of my father's I'd like to settle," she added, and
then wondered why she had.

"I
believe that my husband can be of some assistance to you in that matter,"
Mrs. Schuyler said quietly. "Unless there is some other reason you wish to
be on your way so quickly."

Elizabeth
saw doubt flit across Nathaniel's face, and then, with a glance at her, he
shrugged. "If General Schuyler can lend a hand with sorting out the
paperwork, then we'll stay and be glad of the warm," he said. "It's
cold at night still on the river."

"So
it is," Catherine Schuyler admitted with considerable satisfaction, and
she excused herself to go speak to her housekeeper.

"Bears,"
she said, turning back from the door. "Perhaps you could go after Anton
and General Schuyler and see what is keeping them. I would guess they are down
at the sawmill. They will want to hear the news, and then," she said with
a satisfied smile, "there is work enough to keep them busy."

Elizabeth,
keenly aware of being alone with Nathaniel, walked to the window to look down
the sloping lawns toward the Hudson. It was midafternoon, a beautiful and clear
day. Her wedding day. She put her forehead against the pane of glass and forced
herself to breathe deeply.

He
came up behind her and she put out her hand to him. Nathaniel took it silently,
and tugged her so that she had to pivot to face him, stepping backward until
her shoulders touched the wall. He was unshaven, and his face was worn with
sleeplessness. But in his eyes there was no tension, and something else,
something fine and welcome to her.

"We
could both use a good night's sleep," she said softly, feeling the rough
flocking on the wallpaper against her lower arms where she pressed her hands
flat.

"Could
we both?" Nathaniel asked with a half smile. "Aye, I suppose we
could." With one arm propped on the wall above her head, he leaned in
toward her, his head at an angle. From the corner of her eye Elizabeth saw the
door crack open and then slap smartly closed; heard the giggle.

"People
are watching," she whispered.

"Then
let's make it worth their trouble," he said, and he kissed her there
against Mrs. Schuyler's good wallpaper.

When
she could trust her voice she said, "Is that the best you can do?"

Nathaniel
grinned at that. "Well," he said slowly, his breath moving the hair
at her temple. "I'm mighty tired, you understand, and I'm looking forward
to a good night's sleep. But I'll give it another go."

There
was a warm, newly familiar pulsing in Elizabeth's stomach as Nathaniel leaned
toward her, his shoulders blocking out the rest of the room to put them in a
corner of their own. First there was just the touch of his tongue at the
indentation of her upper lip, and then there was his mouth, warm and curious, and
the taste of him, and what it did to her, the memories it pulled to the
surface. She raised her hands and put them on his chest, letting her fingers
curl into the fabric of his shirt, holding him tight while she kissed him back.
He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her up closer. She felt him from
head to toe.

"I
hear there's a wedding today," said a man's voice at the door. "And I
see that it won't be one minute too soon."

* * *

The
contrast that General Schuyler drew to his overseer would have been comic if it
weren't for the obvious regard they had for each other. Philip Schuyler was a
genteel, fastidious man of carefully chosen words, trim build, and elegant if
somewhat outdated dress, but he consulted his overseer as if he were a king
rather than a rough, loud barrel of a man wearing a twenty—year—old wig with a
mind of its own.