Surrender the Wind (18 page)

Under a sky filled with bands of gray, Seth left Wrenhurst touched to the heart. He lifted his eyes to heaven, thankful he had found Nathaniel, healthy and whole.

Sir Charles watched from his study window. His reflection showed a man struck a blow of a most devastating nature; his features sunk into an expression of complete despair. He could not be so self-controlled at that moment and not be touched with sadness; of releasing his grandson to a daughter-in-law he
had not accepted. Yet, a sudden pity for this girl filled him, along with a strong sense of respect for her brother. Seth would bring Caroline to Wrenhurst, and Sir Charles would hear with his own ears the truth and see with his own eyes she lived. He’d know, without any room for doubt, this cruel plot had deceived him.

“Criminals all! I pray to God I see the perpetrators swing from the end of a rope.” He slammed his fist hard against the window frame. Hetty Shanks and her expression of pity for the child sickened him. But at least she had brought Nathaniel to him, like Seth had said, in order to spare the boy a cruel end. Perhaps she thought the seclusion of Wrenhurst would buy her time to get away before the truth was told.

Still he cursed her and the persons who had planned such treachery.

J
uleah slipped outside and paused to gaze up at the twilight sky. She drew in the scent of lilacs, watched purple blossoms drift onto the cobblestone walk. The orchard, through which she hurried, cast shadows along the ground. The horse chestnut trees quivered with the slightest breeze. She ran her hand over a trunk and ducked her head beneath the boughs.

Once she reached the bank of the pond, she slipped off her shoes and sat upon the cool grass. For a long while she watched swallows dip and circle above. She picked up a stone, threw it into the water, and watched the bands of ripples it made. The cattails quivered, and she brushed away a tear that slipped down her cheek.

She had to admit she was in love with Seth.

With her head thrown back, she gazed into the fathomless heavens. The warm night, the water, the purple sky above her beckoned. She pulled off her frock and stockings. In her chemise, she stepped into the water. She dipped her fingers along the surface, waded a ways out, turned, and bent her head until her hair was soaked. The soothing sensation caused her to shut her eyes. She moved her arms to and fro to feel the ripples against her and the soft mud that squished between her toes.

She spoke her heart to the One who had given her all this beauty and prayed that Seth would ask her the question that other men had longed for her to answer.

On a hillside that overlooked the pond, Seth reined in Jupiter. Below, Juleah moved in the water with her back to him. The water reached her hips. Her hair caught the light and fell against her skin. The sight of her caused his heart to rear up. He enjoyed seeing her soaking wet, how her chemise clung to the curves of her body. Curling the reins tight around his fist, he wondered if it were wrong to admire a beautiful woman in this manner.

She stepped up, lifted the hem of her chemise above her calves and reached the shore. She picked up her frock, slipped it over her head, and smoothed it down. Her slim delicate fingers gathered up her hair. She squeezed the water from it, and pushed it back.

He rode toward her.

Jupiter shook his mane, and the bridle gear jingled. Startled, Juleah turned.

“Are you lost, Mr. Braxton?”

Seth drew off his hat. “I thought this way might be quicker. You’re soaking wet.”

She gave him a tilt of her head. “I … slipped in.”

He dismounted, drew off his coat to place it over her shoulders. “You must be more careful.”

“When I said I slipped in, I meant I had gone into the water.” She leaned over, searched for her shoes. A lock of her hair brushed against her mouth when the breeze blew. Juleah lifted her hand and pulled it away, which sent something electric through Seth.

“I’ve come to tell you good news. Caroline's son did not succumb to a fever as you were told. He is alive.”

Juleah dropped her shoes; her hand covered her mouth to stifle a cry. “Alive?”

Seth smiled and laughed. “Yes, alive.”

“How can that be? How do you know this?” Her eyes revealed wild astonishment. “I do not understand. I was told …”

“Listen and I’ll explain,” Seth said. “I’ve been to Wrenhurst, and when I told Sir Charles the details of all that has happened he showed me the boy.”

Numb with shock, Juleah shook he head. Seth could see she struggled to take this in.

“How did Sir Charles come by Nathaniel? Is this his doing?”

“No. Hetty Shanks took him to Wrenhurst and told Sir Charles that Nathaniel was now orphaned. She gave him a letter he believed was from Caroline bequeathing Nathaniel into his care. Naturally, he took the child. His one mistake—he failed to investigate whether what Hetty Shanks had told him was true.”

For a moment, Juleah stared at Seth. Filled with excitement, a rush of eager questions poured out of her. He answered each one in turn, told her all he could, about his suspicion from the start, how he had suppressed it thinking he was in the wrong for doubting, believing that no one would ever lie about such a matter. What he omitted to say was who he thought was behind this cruelty.

“Sir Charles should have ridden to Ten Width and seen for himself,” Juleah said. “But I suppose if he believed the letter was genuine, he would not have done more. He did not doubt you?”

“He was astounded, but willing to listen,” Seth told her. “I’m taking Caroline to Wrenhurst tomorrow.”

Juleah laid her head against his forearm. “Tomorrow cannot come quickly enough.”

“I would be pleased if you’d come along.”

She leaned up on her tiptoes, held Seth by the shoulders, looked at him with eyes bright. “Indeed I will. It is a miracle.”

“Perhaps your father would allow me to escort you to Ten Width tonight.” He gazed down into those beaming eyes and hoped some of her joy concerned him.

“Perhaps.” She paused, removed her hands, and stepped back.

“Caroline will be pleased, and that way we can leave early without delay.”

“Would you be pleased?”

“Yes, you know I would.”

Shadows deepened. The breeze rushed through the cattails and lifted the ends of Juleah's hair. “I must get back.” She stepped up the path. “I have to tell everyone what has happened.”

Restraint broke as he looked again into her joyful eyes. He moved closer and took her by the shoulders. “Do you not love me as I love you?”

A breath slipped from her lips. “Do you not know, Seth? Do you not see?”

Seth drew her into his arms and brushed his lips over hers. She melted against him. “You’ll not run away again?” he asked softly.

Her eyes softened. “No. Not again.”

“I wish to speak to your father.” Running his hand through her hair, he brought it forward over her shoulder. “It's important.”

An even softer expression washed over Juleah's face. “Every evening he walks up on the ridge.”

Seth picked up her hand, kissed it, and glanced toward the wooded swell of land beyond. “I’ll find him.”

He swung into the saddle and turned Jupiter out into the field. He looked back at Juleah. She stared after him. He smiled and waved his hand to her. With a gentle kick of his heels, he pushed Jupiter to a gallop in search of Sir Henry.

He reached the crest of green and reined in. He paused to look back at Juleah as she ran home barefooted, with her hair unbound.

As he rode down the dusky lane, Seth spied Sir Henry off in the distance. The old gentleman walked along with a smile, carrying a walking stick. Thomas bounced ahead of his father, chased something fluttering in the air, and stood still when Seth's horse snorted.

He cantered up to them. Jupiter shook mane and tail.

“It's Jupiter, Papa, the old squire's horse. The one named after that pagan god.” Thomas took a quick step back.

“Aye, lad, and now he belongs to this gentleman.” Sir Henry's dogs circled around him, wagging their tails like flags. “Down, you hounds.”

Seth pulled off his hat and set it across his thigh. “Good evening, Sir Henry. Master Thomas.”

Sir Henry looked up at Seth with a broad smile. “And to you, sir.”

“I admit, Master Thomas, Jupiter may be an unfit name for a Christian gentleman's horse,” Seth said. “But he's used to it.”

“He's mean-spirited.” Thomas scowled. “I hear he kicks and bites.”

“If ill-treated, Tom. Here climb up.” Seth bent over, held out a hand. “You can guide him to the house, while your father walks alongside us.”

Tom shifted uneasily on his feet. He moved beside the right stirrup and lifted his hand to Seth, who pulled him up and set him in front of him. Jupiter sidestepped under the meager weight of the extra rider.

“Now, take the reins and lead him on.” Thomas brought the reins together and gripped them hard. “Relax, Tom. He’ll go easy if you nudge him with your knees.”

“Well done, lad.” Sir Henry clapped his hands. “You show that beast you’re not afraid of him. Come in to the house, won’t you Mr. Braxton?”

“Yes, come inside,” urged Thomas. “I want to ask you about Indians.”

“Well, the boy has asked you,” said Sir Henry. “What say you, sir?”

“I’ll stay. I wish to have a private word with you, Sir Henry.”

Sir Henry raised his brows. “You have my undivided attention, sir.”

The horse moved on beneath Thomas's gentle touch, toward the house before darkness conquered. The moon stood above the trees; grasses in the fields whispered and were covered with dew. Seth showed Thomas how to bring the horse forward, how to bring him to a halt, and move him on again. Thomas grew bold, nudged Jupiter harder, and forced the horse to pick up each step.

Outside the door, Seth dismounted and helped Thomas down. He walked proudly away, and Jupiter followed him. One quick shove sent Thomas forward and he stumbled.

“He wants whatever is in your pocket,” Seth told him.

Thomas frowned at the horse. “It's my apple, sir.”

“Well, don’t spoil him with it unless you want to.”

“If I give it over, will he like me?”

“Kindness wins a horse. Here, let me help you.” Seth looped the reins tighter around his hand, and brought the horse to a standstill. “There, you see. I have him firmly.”

Tom drew out the half-eaten apple. He stepped closer and held the treat out in the palm of his hand until Jupiter took it between velvety lips.

Thomas rubbed his hand against his breeches. “His nose felt soft, and he didn’t bite me.”

Seth smiled and handed him the reins. “Now that you have won him over, you take him. Loop the reins over the post.” Seth looked up and saw Juleah leaning on her arms at the window, her head cocked to one side as she smiled at him, pleased by his attentiveness to Thomas. He headed for the door and knocked his fist against the wood frame. The serving woman pulled it open.

Lady Anna rushed forward with her hands stretched out to greet him. “Juleah told us the news. I’m overjoyed for Caroline. But, oh, what mischief has been afoot these many months to do such an evil deed. You must employ the constable at once, Mr. Braxton. Have the persons responsible arrested.”

“I shall not let the matter rest.” He gave her an assuring nod.

“I have no doubt. My daughter tells me you wish her to join your sister at Ten Width. I’d object to her traveling alone with you at this time of day, but under the circumstances, it is agreeable. You will take care of her for us?”

Seth bowed. “You have my word.”

“Do not let her fall from your horse.”

I’ll hold her firmly.
He regarded Juleah when she came down the stairs freshly dressed. “Shall you not ride your own?”

Sir Henry stepped forward. The dogs weaved in and out between his legs. “The old nag has gone lame. Be off before it grows too dark to travel.” Sir Henry leaned toward Seth. “Keep to your pistols. There are highwaymen about.”

Before Anna Fallowes could raise any objection at the mention of highwaymen, Juleah hurried off. Seth followed her out. Lady Anna pleaded with Juleah to take care not to soil her clothes, while Sir Henry said something about the king's men, and Thomas and Jane said their good-byes.