Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson
His smile did not fade as he aided her to her feet. By now, she should know that he was happy for any excuse to hold her enchanting form close. Her arm slipped around his waist as they moved slowly through the foam bubbling on the sand.
Clarisse was not the only one who watched as they wandered along the beach. Other eyes were not as open with the emotions felt inside, but there was a sense of impending events building up to detonate although neither Nicholas nor Rebecca was aware of it. Lost in the wonder of their burgeoning love, they could not feel the hate growing to overshadow it and smother it.
By the time they had returned to share the contents of the picnic hampers, the evil feelings had been masked behind pleasant laughter. Clarisse was deciding to keep the evening from being a total loss by flirting blatantly with Curtis's friend Jackson. The man did not seem averse to her obvious invitation. It was no surprise that when the party broke up as the moon was high in the sky, he left with the auburn-haired woman.
Rebecca glanced across the water. The reflection of the moon made a white path on the waves which seemed to lead to the west and the land she had left behind so reluctantly. She did not wish that her feet could walk on that trail of moonlight back to America. If she returned to Connecticut, her heart would remain in Foxbridge Cloister. She yearned to stay with her heart and the man it adored.
“Did you have a good time?” Nicholas whispered as they rode home sleepy from the sun and the food.
“I always have a good time when you are with me.”
His reply was without words, but she did not have to guess what his lips were trying to tell her as he held her to him all the way home to the Cloister.
Chapter Twelve
“Good day, Lady Foxbridge.”
Rebecca glanced up from her duties pouring the punch for the multitude of children who came with their pennies. Her eyes met the steady grey ones of a man she recognized from her trips about the area, but she could not name him. She smiled. “It's a good day, isn't it, sir? Are you buying a cup of juice?”
“That would be pleasant, my lady.” He took the cup and handed her a gold coin.
In dismay, she looked at it. “Oh, sir, I don't have enough pennies to give you change.”
With a laugh, he said, “This is for the church to raise money for the new belfry, isn't it? Consider it a donation, or if you wish, give these youngsters free glasses until the money is depleted.” He took the cup she handed him. “By the way, my name is Richard Carter. I'm your neighbor to the north.”
“At Avelet Court?”
“That's right.” He watched as she continued to serve the children as she spoke. When one of the youngsters tipped his mug, she had a piece of linen ready immediately to clean the child's clothes. Before the little one could pucker up, she had another cup for him. With an admiring laugh, he said, “You're very competent at that, Lady Foxbridge.”
Glancing up from where she knelt by the child, she said, “When you have served at as many church fundraisers as I have, Mr. Carter, you learn to be prepared for every emergency. There, you are fine, Timmy. Go play, but be back for the songfest.”
While he sipped the cold liquid, Richard continued to chat. He was astonished at how well the youngsters from the village and the cottages obeyed her quiet orders to wait patiently to be served. Even more impressed was he by the fact that she called each one by name. When the crowd of children thinned momentarily, he drew another coin from his pocket and placed it on the table.
“Another cup, Mr. Carter?”
“Richard, if you please, my lady. No, I wish to purchase one for the hard-working lady who has charmed these children so completely.”
She laughed and wiped her hand against her forehead. It was a very hot day. The heavy air clamping her clothes to her body had muted the celebrations only slightly. There was a good turnout. Perhaps they would be able to raise a good portion of the money for the new belfry and the bell she hoped would hang there again one day.
“Thank you. I would be pleased to take your donation and a cup of this cool juice. Why don't you call me Rebecca?”
He bowed his head in her direction. “I'm honored, Rebecca.”
“Tell me about what else you have seen on the carnival grounds.” She smiled wryly. “I have been stuck here since before the fair opened.”
He laughed at her enthusiasm. He had been attending these village events every summer since he had outgrown swaddling clothes. His family had summered in Avelet Court, far from the heat and congestion of London, for generations. Before that, they had been well-established country gentry living year-round in the drafty expanses of the house. Every year, there was a fair on the church grounds in an effort to finance some repair on the lovely building or an addition that the parishioners desired.
In all those years, it was the first time he could recall the aristocracy ever being involved to the extent that Lady Foxbridge was. Dressed in her simple cotton frock with a plain apron over it, she almost could have been one of the village lasses herself. By the bright rose of her cheeks and the sparkle in her blue eyes, he could tell she was enjoying herself as much as the youngest child discovering the convivial atmosphere for the first time.
He leaned on the table and talked with her until he saw her eyes narrow before they turned away to look at the large bucket of juice. Involuntarily, he looked over his shoulder. He smiled as he saw Clarisse Beckwith walking toward the table. He long had admired the pretty lady who was dressed in a pale green, silk gown which had cost more than would be raised by the efforts of the church members. More than once he had called on her, but he had seen quickly that she still harbored her longing for Nicholas Wythe. He knew Clarisse could often be shallow and hurtful, but he thought it was because of her broken heart.
“Hello, Rebecca,” she purred as she tilted her lacy parasol. “I must say, you are looking quite unusual today.”
Rebecca glanced from her stained, spotted work dress to her rival's splendid gown. She knew her face was dirtied from lovingly offered, sugar-coated kisses given by the youngsters who had surrounded her from the second she arrived. Her hair had fallen out of its braids to hang in wavy strands around her face in a dark aurora.
Coolly, she said, “I am sure I do look unusual to you, Clarisse. As you aren't used to doing anything but the monumental task of making yourself up each day, you probably would not recognize the sweat of honest labor.”
She laughed Rebecca's insult away lightly. “You're right. I intend to continue this way. You wouldn't see me wasting me time for these shiftless people.”
Seeing the youngsters listening to Clarisse's condescending tone, Rebecca struggled to control her outrage. She wondered how Clarisse dared to speak so nastily of these good, deeply caring people who had not had the fortune to be born into wealth as she had. “Clarisse, do you want to purchase a glass? If not, please move on, for you are blocking others who are interested in quenching their thirsts.” She did not raise her voice, but all listening could tell she was enraged.
“Yes, my dear Lady Foxbridge, pour me a cupful like a good lass.” Taking it distastefully in her finely laced gloves, she dropped a coin disdainfully on the table. She sniffed the contents of the tin cup and poured it on the ground. “Here, Rebecca, serve this swill to those who do not have the palate to appreciate anything better.” She draped her hand on the arm of the man who had been watching the exchange with an unhappy expression. “Richard, why don't you take me for a stroll around the grounds of this quaint little fair? Rebecca can handle this quite well on her own. It would seem that she has finally found something in her background that she can use as Lady Foxbridge.”
Richard shot an apologetic glance toward the dark-haired lady before turning away with Clarisse. He was sure the best thing he could do for Rebecca was to take the redhead elsewhere.
Rebecca watched with ill-concealed anger as the two walked toward the other booths. When she saw the concern on the upturned faces of her young customers, she forced a smile and poured the crystal drink into their cups. She listened to their childish attempts to try to atone for the cruelty of Clarisse's words. Soon their kindness cooled the fury inside her.
The hours of the fair passed quickly, but she did not become fatigued as she served more cups of the lemonade than she could have counted. When Reverend Middleton came over to tell her that it was time for the children's performance, she gratefully turned over her booth to one of the other church ladies.
After the incident when Nicholas had discovered him holding Rebecca, John Middleton wisely had acted as if the whole episode had not taken place. Knowing that Rebecca loved her husband, he had resumed his friendship with her. Although the situation was strained between them at first, they were becoming friends again.
With the innate knowledge that children possess, they quickly discovered Lady Foxbridge was looking for them. Quickly they lined up with a minimum of shoving and none of the cursing that she had insisted was unacceptable for a cherubs' choir. While they were getting in place, Rebecca washed her face in lukewarm water from a bucket near the porch of the church. She undid her hair and tied it back in a loose fall along her back. There was no time to waste redoing it.
“Stage nerves, sweetheart?”
She glanced up to see Nicholas standing on the bottom step. With a chuckle, she said, “No, just a dirty face. I told all the children they had to be neat. I didn't think I should be less.” She stepped down next to him. “I'm so glad you could be here, Nicholas. They are so proud of themselves, and I know they will be especially pleased to show off for you.”
He stroked her damp face. “You didn't think I would miss this chance to see the results of what you have worked so hard at for so long.”
“I knew you were going to be busy today.”
“Solicitors can wait, darling. I wanted to handle the most important business first.”
She was astonished at the warmth that filled her, which had nothing to do with the summer temperatures. When he bent to kiss her cheek for luck, she smiled and ran her fingers lovingly along his arm before rushing to the center of the green where the children and their families were waiting.
Nicholas followed more slowly. When he saw the vicar, he signaled to the man. He was pleased that Middleton acted naturally with him. Until the episode with Rebecca, he had been very pleased with the minster's performance in the parish. He would hate to ask Middleton to leave when he was doing so many good things. They spoke quietly as Rebecca whispered final instructions to the children.
Everyone became quiet as she motioned for little Timmy to step forward. Even the distant rumble of thunder did not distract the audience when the child opened his mouth to sing in a childish soprano the first verse of the hymn Rebecca had learned herself as a child. So sweetly did he sing that a murmur of appreciation circled the green.
At the motion from Rebecca, the other children began to join in slowly, a few at a time. It was not long before the open area was filled with the sound of heartfelt singing. If a few flat notes or missed words marred the perfection, no one noticed. When the last chord drifted away on the fitful breeze, silence settled on the green. In an explosion, applause erupted.
The children grinned in pride, but did not move. They watched Rebecca intently. When the clapping stopped, she nodded her head for them to begin. This time they sang a folk song which was native to western England. Only Nicholas knew that his wife had hounded the staff at Foxbridge Cloister until she could find someone familiar with all the words to the complicated rhyming song. The youngsters had no trouble dealing with the madrigal tunes which wove together and apart like dancers performing the minuet.
The applause was more enthusiastic at the end of the second song. Although every parent in the village had heard a bit of the music for the past month, no one had been able to hear the whole. They were astonished that the children had this much talent. There was always time for music in this land so controlled by the rhythms of the sea and wind, so it was an extra joy to hear the children in such an organized chorus.
Rebecca paused as she saw Reverend Middleton wave to get her attention. When he walked out to stand beside her, he said, “Please allow me to interrupt this joyous noise unto the Lord to make an announcement. Today, through the efforts and generosity of everyone here, we have raised enough money to buy the materials to rebuild the church steeple. Weâ” A cheer interrupted him, for soon the men would be spending their few leisure hours working to raise the proud structure on the church roof once more. He raised his hands. “I have another announcement to make before the children sing their last song for you. Not only will we have our steeple, but the kind donation from Lord and Lady Foxbridge will enable us to have a bell for it.”
A gasp of surprise erupted from Rebecca as the crowd clapped enthusiastically again. Her eyes settled easily on Nicholas who smiled. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling like the tears of happiness on her eyelashes. He had known how important this project was to her. All the time when she had been concerned that he would be angry because she was working with the youngsters, he had been planning this wonderful gift to his tenants. She had no words to thank him. In front of this crowd, she could not run to him and thank him wordlessly. She shook John's hand as he expressed his gratitude, but she did not know what she said. As she turned to the children, she saw their broad grins.
“All right,” she whispered. “This is the last number. Make me as proud of you as you have so far.”
Rebecca need not have worried. The youngsters performed the song even better than they had in practice. The hand motions and play-acting it required went without a hitch. Never had she seen them perform so faultlessly. When they finished, she was the first to begin to applaud for their efforts as she faced their audience. “As you can see, your children have worked long and hard to entertain you. I am sure you will be pleased to know that they plan to continue their choir, which Reverend Middleton has agreed will be a part of the church service once a month. Thank you very much.”