Too Far to Whisper (5 page)

Ten minutes later, Ben and Faith arrived. The pair barely had set foot inside when Rosalind rushed to embrace her brother.

“I have missed you so!” she cried, before turning toward Faith. “And Faith, you look wonderful!”

Rosalind spoke the truth. There was no mistaking the sparkle in Faith’s eyes or the flush in her cheeks as she clung to her husband’s arm. Gone were all traces of the wedding-night problem Ben so awkwardly had attempted to describe to her on the morning after his wedding. Rosalind felt a great sense of relief that her brother and his wife appeared to be so genuinely happy.

The table in the sitting room was set with a lace table covering and pewter chargers and pitchers. A vase of flowers decorated the center of the table. The group was just about to be seated when Matthew came downstairs and whispered to Rosalind that his mother craved a word with her posthaste. Concerned, Rosalind excused herself and hurried to Abigail’s chamber.

“Is something amiss, Abigail?” she asked upon entering the room. She instantly noticed that the woman was seated on the edge of the bed rather than lying back against her usual stack of pillows.

“Aye, there is,” she responded, but her eyes twinkled with excitement. “I need you to assist me with dressing. I cannot very well join my husband and sons for supper, nor properly meet your brother and his wife, while I am wearing my nightdress!”

Rosalind could not contain her surprise. “Are you certain you feel up to this?”

“I am determined to try,” Abigail said. “Quickly, child, fetch me my green dress. I do not wish to keep our guests waiting.”

Hesitating for only a few seconds, Rosalind complied.

Several minutes later, Rosalind and Abigail – the frail woman clutching her young companion’s arm for support – descended the stairs. A hush fell over the room as all heads turned toward the pair.

Nathaniel and Matthew leapt to their feet and rushed to assist Rosalind. Each son grasped one of Abigail’s elbows, then carefully guided her to the table. When Abigail finally was seated at her husband’s side, Elias leaned over and embraced her. “Beloved wife, I am pleased beyond words that you have decided to honor us with your presence this eve,” he said. He turned to face Rosalind, who was standing near the table. “I cannot thank you enough, Mistress Chandler.”

Rosalind wanted to tell him that Abigail was still too weak, too ill, to be up and about, and that if it had been up to her, the woman would have remained in bed where she belonged. Her only response, however, was to smile and nod.

Rosalind could not remember when she had enjoyed a meal more. Matthew was a gifted conversationalist with a knack for making people laugh, especially when he described his days at college. Within minutes, he encouraged even the most tight-lipped members of the group to contribute their own stories to the light-hearted discussion. And Ben, true to form, delighted everyone with several of his more amusing tales, including one about his first attempt to milk a cow. His pleasure was obvious as his audience hung on to his every word.

The food also was delicious, Rosalind thought, as she accepted Grace’s offer of another piece of gingerbread. She considered the only drawback of the otherwise perfect evening to be Nathaniel’s relentless perusal of her.  He was seated directly facing her. Whenever she smiled, she felt his gaze burning into her lips. And if she happened to look in his direction, his eyes instantly locked with hers. At times, Rosalind feared her food would stick in her throat, Nathaniel’s gaze was so intense.

Immediately following the meal, Abigail’s growing weariness became apparent. Several times, the woman’s head slumped forward as she fought off sleep, only to snap back up when loud conversation or laughter startled her. Finally, Elias offered to escort her back to her chamber.

“Rosalind deserves to relax tonight and spend time with her brother and his lovely wife,” Elias said. He stood and then bent to scoop up his sleeping wife into his arms. “I shall tend to Abigail’s needs.”

“But ‘tis my duty,” Rosalind protested, rising from her bench.

“Not tonight.” Elias’s tone was firm. Carrying Abigail, he moved toward the stairs. “Now be seated and enjoy the company of your guests.”

Grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with Ben and Faith, Rosalind obeyed.

An hour later, Ben spoke the words Rosalind had been dreading since his arrival.

“This has been a most enjoyable evening,” he said. “But the hour grows late, so Faith and I must be on our way.” He rose and took his wife’s elbow. “We are extremely grateful for your hospitality.”

Rosalind’s heart sank. Although the Corwins treated her like a member of their family, they were not
her
family. Seeing Ben again had served only to resurrect her desire to see her mother and sisters.

Excusing herself to the Corwin brothers, Rosalind escorted Ben and Faith outside. The three of them stood at the head of the path, each of them reluctant to bid farewell.

“Do not look so sad,” Ben told his sister, giving her hand a squeeze. “I promise I shall return soon. And perhaps next time, I shall bring Mother, Nellie and Elizabeth.”

“That would be wonderful,” Rosalind said. “I cannot tell you how much I miss them.”

“Not half as much as they miss you,” he said, shaking his head. “Mark my words, bright and early on the morrow, Mother will be knocking at my door, impatient to hear how you are faring. I shall have to relate every detail of this evening’s events.”

“Give her my love,” Rosalind said as she leaned to embrace her brother.

She stood and watched Ben and Faith as they walked away, even though the night’s darkness, save for the light of the moon, prevented her from seeing them clearly. She lingered outside, not wishing to return to the house. The evening, she decided, had ended much too soon.

“You look lovely in the moonlight.” Nathaniel’s voice came from behind her.

Rosalind turned to find the captain casually leaning against a nearby tree.

“Are you always in the habit of sneaking up on people?” she asked him. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Not nearly long enough,” he responded with a lazy smile. “I could gaze at you for hours and still not tire of it.”

A breeze caused Rosalind to inadvertently shiver. The sight of a bat flying overhead did not help to ease her sudden discomfort.

“I would think you have already had your fill of staring at me tonight, sir,” she said. “You did naught but keep your eyes on me throughout the meal.”

Nathaniel chuckled and moved to stand in front of her. “Surely you cannot fault me for finding you so enchanting. Has no man ever stared at you before?”

“Yes…of course.” Rosalind was grateful for the darkness that concealed her blush. “But none as relentlessly as you.”

“I truly am sorry,” he said, moving even closer. “I was not aware I was causing you such discomfort. I do not believe you realize just how truly lovely you are, Rosalind. Your golden hair, your fair skin, your full lips – they are enough to drive any man to distraction.”

She remained silent, not certain how to respond. She was eager to rid herself of the smooth-talking captain. Finally, she said, “If you will excuse me, I shall return to my chamber now. It has been an exhausting day.” She nodded at him. “Good evening.”

“Do not leave yet,” Nathaniel said.  Rosalind felt his strong fingers close around her upper arm. “My purpose for coming out here was to deliver some good news.”

Rosalind eyed him suspiciously and tugged her arm from his grasp. “Oh? And pray tell, what is this good news of yours?”

“Father has suggested that I escort you to your mother’s on Monday for a visit. He knows how eager you are to see her and your sisters, so he thought a visit would please you. ‘Tis his way of rewarding you for all you have done for my mother. He was thrilled beyond words to have her sup with us tonight.”

Rosalind’s eyes widened. “Speak you the truth? You will escort me to see my family?”

Nathaniel nodded and smiled. “’Twill be my pleasure.” He reached to brush a stray golden curl from Rosalind’s forehead. “Shall we plan on Monday, then?”

“Oh yes!” she responded without any hesitation. “I can barely wait until then!”

“Good. Then it is settled. Word will be sent to your mother so she can expect us.”

“Thank you, Nathaniel,” Rosalind said.  She bowed her head. “I know not how to express my gratitude.”

“I can think of a way,” he said softly. Before Rosalind could respond, he took her chin in his hand and lifted it until her eyes were forced to meet his. Leaning, he pressed his lips to hers, lingering there for several moments before he broke away. It was a gentle, undemanding kiss that caused Rosalind to unconsciously touch her lips after it ended.

“Good night, fair Rosalind,” he called to her over his shoulder as he strode toward the door. There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he added, “Do not stand outside too long. You might catch a chill.”

Rosalind glared at his back until he disappeared through the doorway. Nathaniel Corwin, she decided, was someone she would be wise to avoid. He appeared to be doing everything within his power to undermine her efforts to keep their relationship strictly formal. Had she not been so eager to visit her mother and sisters, she would have been sorely tempted to rethink her plans for Monday. Just the thought of traveling alone through the woods with the captain made her uneasy.

* * * * *

Shadow Runner stepped out of the shed and halted, his eyes narrowing as he spied the couple in front of the stables. Moving back into the shadows, he watched Nathaniel lift Rosalind onto the pillion on the back of the chestnut mare. Even after Rosalind had been properly seated, Nathaniel allowed his hands to linger at her waist – an action that brought a scowl of disapproval to the Indian’s face. When the captain swung up onto the same horse, Shadow’s jaw tightened. The sight of Nathaniel and Rosalind seated together that way, their bodies nearly touching, disturbed him to such a degree, he had to fight the urge to run up to the horse and yank Nathaniel from his perch.

Shadow’s eyes trailed the horse and its riders until they were but a speck in the distance…and he spied Elias Corwin, cat-o’-nine tails in hand, striding toward the shed.

Shadow swiftly moved in the direction of the clearing to resume his work, vowing with each step that if Nathaniel dared to lay even one finger on Rosalind, he would have to learn to make do with only nine fingers.

* * * * *

Rosalind never had ridden on a horse before. The majority of the townspeople traveled either by foot or by dugout, for horses were a luxury few could afford. Although she could not deny that this new experience was exciting, it also was frightening. After all, she reasoned, unlike other modes of transportation, a horse possessed a will of its own. That thought unnerved her. What if the animal decided to leap over a cliff or lie down and roll in the mud? Rosalind resisted the urge to cling to Nathaniel. She held no doubt that the captain would misinterpret the action, and she was steadfast in her determination not to afford the man even the slightest bit of encouragement.

The sky was overcast and the air humid as they rode in silence along the winding trail.  Rosalind thought the leaves on the trees looked more green than she had ever seen them. Perhaps, she thought, it was because of late, she had seen the inside of the Corwins’ house much more frequently than she had seen trees.

Rosalind could not help but wonder how her mother would react when she saw her daughter in the company of Nathaniel, one of the illustrious Corwin brothers.  She hoped the woman would not read something into their relationship that was not there…or even worse, attempt to play matchmaker.

“Tell me about your family,” Nathaniel suddenly said, glancing back at her. “I wish to know more about them ere I meet them today.”

“Well, there is my sister Nellie, who’s eleven. Then there is Elizabeth, who is fifteen. And you already are acquainted with Ben, who, at three and twenty, is three years my elder.”

“And what of your mother, the widow? Has she any plans to take another husband?”

Rosalind shook her head. “’Tis much too soon to even consider. She still misses my father too greatly. ‘Tis not as if she has not yet been presented with the opportunity, however. Ben tells me that Ezekiel Rowe has expressed an interest in making Mother his next bride.”

“Ezekiel Rowe!” Nathaniel laughed. “The man must be close to eighty! On their wedding night your mother no doubt would be made a widow for the second time!”

“Not to worry.” Rosalind’s lips tightened. “Mother never would marry a man she did not love.”

“Oh, and love is very important?”

“Extremely. My brother confessed to me that he loves Faith more than his heart can bear. That is the way it
should
be between a husband and wife.”

“Really?” Nathaniel sounded amused. “And you, I presume, are an expert on such matters of the heart?”

“Hardly. But I believe love should be the primary reason why people wed.”

“Oh? I always assumed procreation was the most important reason.”

“To most people it is,” she said. “But it should not be. Does it not make sense that if a woman loves her husband, she will welcome his touch more often and therefore increase her chances of conceiving? So, in my opinion,
love
aids procreation.”