Surrender the Wind (25 page)

Seth set his mouth. “I’m from Virginia, sir.”

“Of course you are. And here in Devonshire life goes by at a slow, quiet pace. That is how people like it. Sometimes folks make mistakes of identity, children are misplaced, and facts are misunderstood. I’m sure that's all that happened with Hetty and your nephew. It was a mistake and not a conspiracy.”

“You are as blind as you are gluttonous,” Seth told him.

Latterbuck turned red in the face and let out a puff of air. “I advise you to watch what you say. Speak no more what might incriminate you.”

Seth flexed his hands. “I’ve said nothing to implicate myself in this foul business.”

“You’ve admitted to seeking this wretch out for a misdeed done to your family.”

“I did, sir. You may recall I sent a letter to you weeks ago. You preferred to ignore it. I’ve nothing to hide.”

“Bide your time, sir. In the meanwhile, hold your tongue.”

Seth folded his arms across his chest in defiance. “I hold myself ready to answer any questions you have, Constable. Is that clear to you?”

Latterbuck twisted his mouth. “Indeed it is. Have no doubt I shall have them ready for you.”

Seth viewed this advice as a means to tighten the ropes that already bound the truth. Outraged at Latterbuck's blindness, he stood aside. Could Latterbuck ignore what his eyes told him in order to protect his unblemished reputation? How could he not desire justice for Hetty? If she had been a lady of quality, Seth wondered if Latterbuck's deduction would be different.

“George, lift it,” Latterbuck ordered. His deputy moved to obey.

“Will, put her in our cart,” Seth said.

Latterbuck countered the order. “Bind the body to the saddle, George. Go gently. Steady.”

Seth notched the earth with the heel of his boot. Will, equally incredulous, kept his eyes on Latterbuck, then glanced at Seth. They watched as the droopy-eyed deputy lifted Hetty from the ground and swung her stiff and swollen body over his shoulder. His knees buckled under the weight. He carried her over to his horse and tied her body to the saddle. The constable's horse blew out a snort when Latterbuck put his foot in the stirrup and, with an effort, hoisted himself back into the saddle.

He bid Seth a good day and touched the rim of his hat. Beads of sweat stood out upon his domed forehead. Seth watched him turn his horse out onto the road and ride off with a slackened rein, with his servant on foot to lead the burdened horse.

D
isconcerted by the flippancy over such important matters as a death and by the constable's offhanded remarks, Seth, with Will beside him, watched Latterbuck and his mate disappear down the road. He balled his fists and strode hard over to his horse. He sent Will home and rode over the fields at a brisk pace.

An hour later, when he turned on the road back to Ten Width, another rider galloped toward him. The man reined in, drew off his hat, and set it across his thigh.

“Sir, is this the road to Ten Width? I’m uncertain if I should have taken the turn north a half-mile back.”

“You’re on the right,” Seth answered. “What brings you to Ten Width?”

“A letter for the gentleman who lives there.”

“I am he.” His restless horse sidestepped and he looped the reins around his gloved hand to control it.

The messenger looked at him warily. “Are you?”

“Yes, my name is Seth Braxton.”

At ease now, the messenger settled in his saddle, drew the letter out of his saddlebag and handed it over. Then he turned
his horse and galloped off. Curious, Seth broke the seal and read the message. His expression softened. He folded the page and tucked it away inside his coat.

He galloped closer to the gates that greeted him, gazed at the house. Loneliness for his father's land seized him. He missed the quiet murmur of the Potomac, the ancient trees of the forests, the meadows of wildflowers and bluegrass. He recalled when the wind blew through the mountains, it whispered of ages past and smelled of laurel and leaf. He glanced up at the sky and wished he could leave this place and go home with his beloved.

Someday.

Juleah met him at the door. A soiled apron covered her dress; a smudge of dirt marred her cheek. Smiling, she pushed back her hair from her face with the back of her hand. In the shade of the ivy she gazed at him, and his heart raced. She was the reason he had stayed, the reason he lived.

She reached up, smoothed back a lock of hair from his forehead, as was her habit to do. “What is it, my love? It did not go well?”

Seth hung his head, lifted up her hands, and pressed his lips upon them. He could not describe his outrage. “Latterbuck believes it was an accident,” he said. “I know different. But there's nothing I can do.”

Juleah sighed. “Time will reveal the truth. God is not slack in such things.”

“There is something else.” He removed the letter from his breast pocket. “I’ve received a letter from Michael asking us to come to London immediately. He says it is urgent. We should go. Can you be ready in an hour?”

Juleah looked worried. “Less than that. It may not be anything to fret over, do you think? Otherwise, he would have said
so. Perhaps he has some business he wishes to discuss with you.”

Seth held her about the waist. “No matter what it is, I’ve wanted to take you away. I’m sure there’ll be more exciting things to do in London than in the country.”

“London has its diversions, that is true. But I prefer the quiet life we have here.”

“You mean you are not bored?”

“I keep busy. Come and see what I have been doing.” She pulled him by the arm to the back of the house, past a row of boxwood and yews, until they reached a plot of tilled soil.

He was indeed pleased at her industrious nature. “What have you planted?”

“Herbs. They were growing in the hothouse, and I thought it such a waste they had been neglected. Thyme, sage, and parsley are here. Spring onion and rosemary there. The lavender I have kept separate by those stones.”

Seth did not know why, but an overwhelming sorrow rushed through him, and he felt some dreaded thing would come between them. She bent to touch the tender plants. The man within him broke and he lifted her, held her against his chest in a strong embrace. His hands encircled her face, and he kissed her cheeks until he found her lips.

He walked with Juleah into the house, where sunlight flowed through the windows in dusty shafts. She removed her straw hat, and her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. It caught the light and Seth caught his breath.

She touched his cheek with her fingertips and lifted her skirts to hurry up the stairs. Seth set the letter on the table beside him. Claire came out into the hallway with an armload of laundry.

“We’re headed for London, Claire. Be a good girl and help your mistress pack.”

Off she went upstairs. Seth went to his study. His grandfather's will lay on his desk. He took it and set it in a drawer. Before he turned the key to lock it, he looked down at the deed to Ten Width and the ledgers that lay open. Even now, he could not shake off the feeling he had been shackled, indentured to a piece of land he did not desire. Duty bound to take it into his hands, he had managed to clear all debts. Now the fields were planted, the sheep bore their lambs, and the promise of money would come. Yet, emptiness clung to him while he longed for Virginia and hoped his life would not be spent in a place he had less heart for.

A knock at the front door roused Seth from his thoughts. He found a man on the doorstep, dressed in clothes too big for his frame. With a flourish, the man drew off his plumed hat and bowed. Tufts of greasy, steel-gray hair fell forward over his shoulders.

“Good day, sir,” he said.

The man's eyes were bleary gray, etched in the corners with heavy lines, each cheek careworn with pockmarks. In one earlobe hung a golden ring. Around his waist and diagonally over one shoulder, he wore a leather baldric. Tucked below the buckle was a flintlock pistol. Bucket boots reached up to the man's knees.

“Who are you?” Seth inquired.

“James Bonnecker. Sailor by trade, known aboard ship as Billy Bonecutter, but me friends call me Jim.”

Amused, Seth smiled. “Well, which name do you go by?”

“Bonnecker, sir. It wouldn’t be fitting to call me by my Christian name.” Bonnecker leaned forward and winked his right eye. “Some call me a pirate cause I served Cotton-eyed

Jack. Aye, what adventures the sea gives a man, sir. Perhaps sometime I can join ye in a mug of ale and tell tales of the sea, pirates, and buried treasure.”

Seth was skeptical of Bonnecker, and no degree of friendly conversation would persuade him. “Why have you left your life of seafaring?”

Bonnecker rubbed his bristly chin. “Well, sir. Privateering has gone downhill. It's not like it was in earlier days. The glory's gone.”

“Well, Mr. Bonnecker, if you’re hungry, then go around to the backdoor. I’ll be sure you get a plate of food. No one can say the poor go hungry at Ten Width. I am on my way out and have no more time to talk to you.”

“I thank ye, sir. But a beggar, I’m not. I’ve come to deliver a message to …” And he pulled a letter out of his pocket and read the name inscribed upon it. “Mistress Juleah Braxton of Ten Width. Is the lady home?”

“She is. Who's the letter from?”

“I don’t know, sir. A man saw me passing down the road and offered to pay me money if I were to bring a message to Ten Width.”

Seth held out his palm. “Give me the letter. I am her husband.”

Bonnecker passed it over and set his hat back on his head. With a swing of his arms, he whirled on his heels to go. “Wait,” Seth called. Bonnecker turned, and Seth reached inside his pocket. He tossed the privateer a sixpence for his troubles. Bonnecker caught it in his fist and nodded his thanks. He then went on with a whistle down the road.

When Seth gave the sealed letter to Juleah, she opened it. “I cannot go to London.” Her eyes flooded with worry.

Seth touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “What's wrong?”

“My mother has fallen ill and I must go to her. I will take Claire with me.”

She looked up at Seth with eyes that pleaded. He took the letter from her hand and read it. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Oh, Seth.”

“I’ll send word to Michael that we are delayed.”

“There is no worry to keep you away. You go on ahead alone.”

“Juleah, you are certain?”

She nodded. “My mother has bouts with her health often, you know. I shall see her, stay a few days, and then Claire and I shall travel to London. We shall come by my father's carriage.”

“If Lady Anna is too ill, then please stay with her.”

Again, she drew her cheek up against his and sighed. “I shall worry about you the whole time.”

“Me? I’ve a brace of pistols.”

A slight smile spread over her lips. “I forgot that you lived in the wilderness and traveled over ocean and land to Ten Width. I should not worry.”

“If your mother is not better in a week, send me word. Kiss her for me,” he said. “And tell your father when I return I’ll take him and Thomas fishing, like I promised.”

T
en Width had yet to own a carriage. Juleah ached already from all the bumps in the road as they traveled by cart down the two-mile stretch of road. Fresh wind caressed her face, and she listened to it blow through the trees. A gray curtain fell, the sun was extinguished, and she hoped it would not rain. A moment later, it parted as quickly as it had come, and the sunshine softened over the land once more.

The horses slowed and Will drove the cart down a hill to level ground, where on the heights ahead Juleah saw her father's house. She stared long at it, worried over her mother's condition. She remembered how her mother loved tending the herb garden and hoped this illness was not something serious that would end her life.

The cart turned into the drive. Will jumped down and when Juleah took his hand and stepped out, she glanced up at her mother's bedroom. Window glass sparkled between lead mullions. Ivy clung to the brick that framed it.

Claire followed behind her into the foyer. The window within faced east, and warm sunlight and soft shadows fell through it as they crossed the polished floor. Jane hurried
out to greet Juleah. Thomas followed at a quick pace, then Sir Henry, who bowed.

“Papa.” Juleah kissed her father's cheek. “Where's mother?”

“In her room.” Sir Henry patted her shoulders and gazed into her eyes.

Thomas tugged on Juleah's dress. “I’ve got a bullfrog in a jar. You won’t be afraid to look at it, will you? Jane is.”

Juleah caressed her brother's curly head. “No, I shall not be afraid. I would like to see your frog, but after I visit with Mother.” Juleah looked over at Claire, and with her eyes told her to take the children outside. Claire rounded the pair up and went out the back to the garden.

“How ill is Mother?” Juleah asked her father.

“Well, you ask her, child,” he answered. “Woman things, I suppose.”

She stopped him on the stairs. “Yates sent me a message, Papa. He made it sound serious.”

“Did he?”

“Yes, Papa. That is why I have come.”

“Anna hasn’t said a word to me about it. I have noticed she cries for no reason a’tall. That is why he wrote, I’m sure.”

Disturbed her father had nothing more to tell her, Juleah slipped by him and headed up the stairs. One of Sir Henry's dogs lay on the carpet and rolled over at her approach.

When she reached Anna's room, her maid squeezed through the door with a bowl of water and an arm draped with towels. Sarah's mousy brown hair peeked out of her cap along the nap of her neck in wispy brown threads.

“Is she awake?” Juleah asked.

“Oh, yes, and bossy as ever, if you don’t mind me saying so. I’ve done all I can for her in the way of comfort, and she still
complains. After listening to her, I think she's got every ailment known to man.”

Ready to ignore Sarah's pertness, Juleah let her pass. Water slopped out of the bowl onto the Persian runner. “I’ll clean it up, miss,” Sarah called back. “Not to worry.”