“I didn’t realize she was married.”
“Two years ago,” Harriet confirmed. “Surely we told
you, Rupert. If we’d heard in time, I’d hopes of traveling back for
the wedding. But it can take the better part of a year to receive a
letter, and by the time the news reached us, the vows had already
been spoken.” Harriet paused, sadness clouding her eyes briefly. “I
haven’t seen my sister in ten years.”
“You’d better read the letter, then,” Rupert said
with a chuckle, and Harriet smiled in response.
“Yes, indeed.” She thrust the baby at Rupert, who
took the bundle with awkward surprise.
“I’m not used to these,” he blustered and she shot
him a pert, knowing look.
“Perhaps you should become accustomed.” Harriet
broke open the seal and scanned the paper.
“Well?” Rupert asked, for Harriet looked terribly
serious.
“John has died,” she said quietly.
“John?”
“Her husband. She’s written to Ian in Boston... why,
she hopes to sail for Boston and stay with him! But of course she
must stay with us!” Harriet looked up in dismay.
“She must do as she pleases, Harriet,” Allan, who
had entered the house minus the boots and muddy dog, reminded her
gently. “She is not the girl of thirteen you left so long ago.
She’s a woman grown, as well as a widow.”
“Of course. I only thought... surely it is fitting
and proper for my own sister to live with us, now she is widowed.
Alone in Boston! It’s quite a big city, isn’t it? I can’t imagine
what she is thinking of.”
“Listen to you!” Rupert laughed. “You sound
positively priggish. She’ll be with your brother, after all. I’m
sure Ian will take good care of her.”
“Still, he is a bachelor living alone,” Harriet
protested, then sighed. “I see the right of it, of course. She’s
likely to meet more people and have a livelier time in a place like
Boston, but still...”
“Why don’t you read the second letter? They came on
separate ships, apparently. She’s likely to give us further
news.”
Harriet opened the second letter and gasped in
surprise. Rupert and Allan exchanged looks filled with exasperated
humor.
“But she’s already sailed!” Harriet
cried. “On
The
Endeavour
, one of Henry’s ships. And it was
likely to dock in early June, so that means...”
“She’ll arrive any day, if she hasn’t already,”
Rupert finished. “The decision has been made, I’d say.”
“She would like to visit us, after she’s been with
Ian,” Harriet continued. “Although I doubt she has any idea what
kind of journey she’d be undertaking.”
“This from the woman who travelled alone to Red
River,” Allan sad mildly. “Untamed country, far from a gentle city
such as Boston.”
“I was chaperoned,” Harriet retorted, “and it was
all quite proper.”
“
I hardly think propriety need be
her first concern,” Rupert interjected. “As you say, she’s a widow
and certainly has more license. And this is the new world, not some
stuffy Scottish parlour. Men and women go freely.”
Allan raised his eyebrows. “So speaks the
libertarian!”
Rupert shrugged. “I can hardly see what there is to
fuss over.”
Harriet put the two letters on the mantelpiece and
took Anna from Rupert. “You’re right, of course. I suppose I’m just
a bit hurt that she didn’t come here first.” She bit her lip. “Of
course she must do as she pleases. As you said, Allan, she’s not a
girl of thirteen. I can hardly tell her what to do. But still, I
don’t like her traveling alone. Even I had Katherine with me.”
“Perhaps Ian will come with her,” Allan suggested.
“It’s high time he paid a visit.”
Harriet’s expression lightened. “That would be a
gift indeed. But if he doesn’t...” she looked thoughtfully at
Rupert.
Rupert chuckled. “You want me to fetch her? I hardly
think I’m a suitable chaperone. We’re not related, after all.”
“Nonsense,” Harriet said briskly. “You shared the
same home in Achlic, and you’ve grown up together. It would be
perfectly proper.”
Allan laughed aloud. “You have a funny idea of what
is proper and what is not, Harriet, depending on what suits
you!”
Harriet blushed. “Perhaps, but it’s still an
idea.”
Rupert nodded thoughtfully. “Aye, that it is.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The Endeavour
sailed into Boston Harbor on a clear, sunny day in early June.
Eleanor stood at the railing, grateful for the fresh breeze that
cleansed the smell and pallor of sickness which had surrounded her
and the entire ship over the last few weeks.
It had not been an easy time, what with the other
passengers coming down with the seasickness. The days became a blur
of holding buckets and wiping foreheads, falling into her narrow
bed in filthy exhaustion.
“But look, there it is!” Caroline, still in the
process of tying her silk bonnet strings, hurried to join Eleanor
at the ship’s railing.
Land had been sighted early that
morning, and
The Endeavour
had been sailing between islands in the deep part
of the harbor for a good part of the day. Finally, they were
nearing the bay and the city itself beyond.
From the railing they could see the busy port with
its many wharves, the tall sailing ships and squat steam boats
moored close by.
ove the port was the city itself, a mass of
buildings, brick and wood, some several stories high, all of it
bigger than Eleanor had originally thought.
“It looks more civilized than I expected,” Caroline
said with a little sniff, and Eleanor laughed.
“Let’s have none of your haughty ways,” she said.
“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of society for your tastes in
Boston.”
“I’m not haughty,” Caroline snapped, then relented.
“Very well, I don’t mean to be snobbish. You know I don’t. I
suppose I’m still disappointed that I shan’t have a season in
London.”
“Think of it as an adventure,” Eleanor suggested.
“It’s not many young women who are launched in a new city. And
these colonials--” Eleanor said the word laughingly, even though
Caroline was all sobriety-- “will admire your polish and pretty
ways. No doubt you’ll be the toast of the town within minutes of
your arrival!”
Caroline’s eyes lit up and Eleanor could tell she’d
not considered this particular angle before.
“But who knows what eligible bachelors reside here,”
she said doubtfully. “All ill-mannered colonials, I’m sure.” She
shivered, seeming to Eleanor almost afraid of the prospect.
“Nay, that time is far past,” Eleanor said firmly.
“America is a country unto itself, with its own society. Ian wrote
of it in his letters. Besides, Boston is a prosperous place, with
many who are well-to-do. You will not be lacking in company.”
“And what of you?” Caroline looked at her curiously,
and Eleanor knew she was wondering what sort of life she hoped to
lead in the new world. The truth be told, she did not yet know.
“I’ve told you, I’ll lodge with my brother.”
“But surely you won’t keep house for him forever?”
Caroline looked appalled. “Why, won’t you want a home of your own,
and a husband?”
A home of her own. Eleanor sighed. She’d never had
that, not since she was a child. Lodging with Ian was the closest
thing to her own hearth and home that she could hope for, at least
for now.
“I scarcely need to think about forever,” she told
Caroline briskly. “It’s now that needs my care.”
With that, she turned back to the railing and the
view of the harbor, pinning her hopes firmly on that unknown
city.
The wharf was seething with a motley crew of
sailors, merchants, and immigrants when Caroline and Eleanor
disembarked, the captain having inquired solicitously as to their
comfort.
“My brother is meeting me,” Eleanor told him. “I’m
well provided for, I assure you.”
“My uncle no doubt will send his carriage,” Caroline
said, although an uncertainty flashed in her eyes, and Eleanor
wondered again at her situation. She’d learned very little of
Caroline in their time on the ship, occupied as they had been with
caring for the sick. She supposed, judging from her accent,
Caroline was from the same part of Scotland as she was, yet the
younger woman had been surprisingly reticent in offering
information about her former life. Eleanor felt the same; it was
the future they cared about now.
Eleanor felt a sudden pang of guilt at the
realization that she had not asked Caroline about herself. She’d
dismissed the younger girl as shallow and vain, stupid even, and to
her credit, Caroline had risen above such judgments and proven
herself to be made of sterner stuff.
“I’m sure your uncle will send a carriage,” she said
now, in an attempt to bolster the girl’s spirits. “No doubt a fine
one, too.”
Caroline managed a trembling smile back. “Yes, of
course he will. He knows what ship I came on, after all. He
arranged the passage himself.”
“There you are, then.”
For a moment, on the wharf, with the indifferent mob
surrounding her, Eleanor felt her spirits falter. She could not see
Ian and everything seemed so strange, so new, so... raw.
In the next moment, she was swept up in a near
bone-crushing embrace, and she shrieked in surprise.
“Ian! You nearly scared the life out of me!”
Ian laughed and set her down. “I’m glad to see you,
is all. It’s been eleven years since I’ve looked on my own kin,
Eleanor.”
Eleanor searched his face, all boyishness gone from
the lean planes of his cheeks and angular jaw. His hair was still
thick and auburn, his eyes as sparkling as the sea that lapped at
their feet. He wore the dress of a prosperous businessman, a fine
overcoat and fawn colored breeches.
“You look well,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“As do you.” Ian surveyed her in silent
appreciation. “You’ve grown into a woman. I scarcely recognised
you!”
“Well enough to sweep me into an embrace,” Eleanor
retorted. “What if you’d been mistaken?”
“But I wasn’t.” Ian grinned, and
then paused as he noticed Caroline hovering at Eleanor’s elbow.
“But who’s this?” He sketched a bow. “Ian Campbell, madam, at your
service.”
Caroline blushed prettily and curtseyed.
“This is Caroline Reid,” Eleanor made the
introductions. She saw Caroline glance furtively around for her
uncle’s carriage, clearly absent. “We’d be happy to take you to
your residence, Caroline,” she said, “in Ian’s carriage. That
is...” she darted a look at her brother. “If he has a carriage!
There is much I do not yet know about your life, Ian.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have my own--yet--but I’ve hired
one for this glad errand. And of course I’d be more than happy to
escort Miss Reid to her destination.”
Eleanor smiled inwardly at this gallant speech, for
she could see interest and appreciation shining in Ian’s hazel eyes
as he took in Caroline’s trim figure, her neat coil of dark blonde
hair, and the fetching dimples in her porcelain-pale cheeks.
Clearly he was not immune to the girl’s charms.
Caroline looked surprisingly vulnerable for a
moment, her china-blue eyes shadowed, and then she lifted her chin
and gave a quick, brisk nod. “That would be very kind of you
indeed. I’m afraid my uncle must have had more pressing matters to
attend to.”
More pressing than fetching his niece just arrived
from Glasgow, Eleanor wondered silently. She did not envy Eleanor
that relationship, at any rate.
Within a few minutes Ian had negotiated their trunks
onto the carriage, and they were safely inside, away from the
jostling crowds of the city’s dockside.
“There’s Quincy Market... you can see the State
House on the hill if you look.” Ian pointed out some of the city’s
landmarks as they travelled.
“It’s all so...
new
,” Caroline exclaimed. Ian smiled
indulgently.
“America is a new country,” he answered with a touch
of pride. “And a growing one.”
“I’ve heard all the men carry rifles,” Caroline
said. “Are you much afraid, to walk alone?”
Eleanor watched, bemused, as she lay one gloved hand
on Ian’s arm.
“No, of course not. Not in the better places,
anyway. Besides, carrying firearms is often a necessity in this
wild country.”
Caroline widened her eyes in a way Eleanor suspected
she was much practiced in. “Do you carry a rifle?”
Ian chuckled, a faint blush tinging his cheeks. “No,
I don’t. The carrying of firearms is not, perhaps, as necessary in
a city like Boston.”
“You sound positively American,” Caroline said, and
made it sound like a compliment despite her snide remarks about the
‘rude colonials’ while they were on board ship. Eleanor did not
know whether to be amused or annoyed. She was a bit of both.
“Perhaps I am,” Ian answered. “It’s home to me
now.”
Caroline had her uncle’s address, and in a short
time they’d reached an elegant brick house on Beacon Hill.
“Shall we see you in?” Ian asked as a matter of
form, although he’d already started to alight from the
carriage.
“No... no.” Despite her cumbersome skirts Caroline
managed to exit the carriage with both grace and speed. “My uncle
is a very busy man. It is better for me to see him alone.”
Eleanor wasn’t sure how these two statements
related, but she could see plainly that Caroline was a mass of
nerves when it came to her guardian.
A butler had emerged from the house, a long scar
running down one cheek, and had already directed someone from the
stables to take care of Caroline’s trunk.
“Miss Reid,” he said politely. “Your uncle
awaits.”
“Are you sure we should not go in?” Ian asked
dubiously. “Your uncle no doubt will want to know who brought you
here. He might think us all manner of ruffians.”