"Yes,
husband," Susannah said unhappily, "but if Ginny is hurt, should we
not—"
"Has
she asked for help?" Robert demanded.
"No,
but—"
"Is
she incapacitated to such a degree that she could not send Lizzie with a
message? She was able to send her for the bacon, was she not?"
"Yes,
husband." Susannah sighed.
"Then
leave well alone," her husband commanded in the tone of voice his
household recognized as permitting of no argument. His wife turned back to the
door, and Alex kept his seat only by a supreme effort. Not for one minute did
he doubt the gossip in the kitchen, and he felt a cold anger at his host for
adopting that head-in-the-sand attitude. But it was the attitude that everyone
would take, except for her women friends like Susannah who would offer the
succor and sympathy of sisters in adversity, but nothing else because they had
nothing else to offer. And what did
he
have to offer, Alex thought
bitterly. No more than those women, probably less. She had not come to him,
after all.
"I've
a mind to ride, Robert," he said, getting to his feet with a leisurely
stretch. "The rain appears to have stopped, and poring over books is an
activity with limited appeal."
"Aye,
I'll agree with you, there," his host replied. "But you'll excuse me
if I don't join you? I've a meeting with the bailiff in an hour."
"Assuredly,"
Alex said, relieved although he had expected the response. Outside, he saw
Susannah hurrying down to the river, an alpaca cloak drawn around her, a basket
over her arm. There was an air of secrecy about her that instantly piqued his
curiosity. If she was going to visit Ginny, then his own plans would have to be
modified. He followed her, catching up with her at the landing stage. "Do
you go on an errand, Mistress Harrington?" he inquired pleasantly.
"Pray allow me to paddle the canoe for you. I am sore restless after a
morning pent up in the house."
"Oh—that
is most kind, sir." Susannah looked thoroughly discomfited. "But
there is no need, really."
"Surely
you will not deprive me of the pleasure of performing such a small service,
madam?" He smiled. "Or of your company."
"Oh,
dear," Susannah said, quite at a loss.
Alex
decided he had best broach the subject directly himself. "Do you perhaps
intend visiting Mistress Courtney? I will not reveal your destination, I assure
you."
"Oh,
you are too kind, sir." Susannah flushed. "It is not that I wish to
disobey my husband, you understand, but I do feel that I must—"
"I
quite understand," Alex said soothingly, bending to untie the canoe.
"We will go together, paying a friendly call on your near neighbor and
cousin, on a fair afternoon." He handed her into the canoe and took his
place behind, raising the paddle.
Ginny
took the batch of mince tarts out of the round oven built into the wall beside
the fireplace, placed them to cool on the table, and went to the kitchen door.
The rain had left the sky washed clear, although the air was chill and filled
with the desolate patter of raindrops falling onto the carpet of leaves below
the trees. There was no sign of Giles; indeed, since that dreadful night he had
taken himself out of the house every morning, whether working on the land or
not, Ginny did not know, but he did not return until the evening when he would
eat in silence and retire to the inglenook with his whiskey.
When
he had woken that morning, it was clear that he had no recollection of the
night's doings until he saw Ginny's face. Then he had blustered, accusing her
of provoking him, of asking for and deserving his rage with her insolent
taunts, her faithlessness and constant nagging. She had made no response at
all, simply set his breakfast before him, and eventually he had fallen into a
baffled silence. Then she had told him, very calmly and without employing
threats or pleas, that she would not tolerate a repetition. When he had
demanded to know how she thought she could prevent him from correcting her in
whatever manner he chose, she had walked away, out of the house. Since then,
they spoke only when absolutely necessary, and Ginny waited with growing
impatience for the time when she would be able to bring this self-imposed
isolation to an end. The bruise on her cheek was a dull, faded yellow now, and
by tomorrow, or the next day at the latest, she would be fit for company again.
Except
that company had decided to take the initiative. The canoe came into sight, its
occupants instantly recognizable. Her heart sank, even as she felt a thrill at
the sight of that auburn head. What could have brought them here except
concern? There was nothing unusual about having no contact with the Harringtons
for as long as a week. Susannah would surely not have thought it strange. Alex
would have worried when she had not appeared in the glade, but his hands were
tied; he could not possibly have prevailed upon Susannah to make this visit
without giving something away.
Well,
she had better greet them as cheerfully as always. The story she had told
Lizzie of slipping down the stairs would explain the fading mark on her cheek,
and she would come up with some tale that would explain to Alex her failure to
meet him in the glade. gathering up her skirts, she ran down to the bank.
"What
a pleasant surprise, Cousin, and General Marshall. A social call, I trust.
There is no bad news?"
"No,
indeed not," Susannah said, climbing agilely onto the bank. "I have
brought you some quince jelly. It is quite the best batch I have made."
She scrutinized Ginny in a manner that told her cousin there was definitely an
ulterior motive. "Whatever has happened to your face, Cousin?"
Susannah asked with an assumption of nonchalance.
"Oh,
it was so silly of me." Ginny waved a hand in airy dismissal. "There
is a loose tread on the stair, and I slipped. I tumbled right to the
bottom." She laughed. "Most undignified and very careless. Pray come
within, and let me offer you some refreshment. Do you care for mince tarts,
General? I have some fresh out of the oven."
Alex
mumbled something vaguely pleasant and followed the two women into the house.
He had to be alone with her before he finally exploded with the frustration of
his impotence and his ignorance. He had to know the truth, and if Ginny did not
stop prattling in this inconsequential fashion, in a minute he was going to
find himself saying something that would put them all at risk.
"Giles
has been unwell since the party," Ginny announced, "which is why we
have been so reclusive. His hip has kept him within doors, and I have been hard
pressed to find ways of amusing him." She smiled and poured black-currant
cordial.
And
you are lying through your teeth, Alex thought, risking a hard stare as he took
the glass from her. A pink tinge crept into her cheeks, a conscious flash in
the gray eyes. He nodded grimly, a gesture that told Ginny that he was not
deceived and that she was not going to get away with further fabrications. His
opportunity came when Susannah, with a murmured excuse, disappeared outside in
the direction of the house of easement.
"Why
did you not come?" he demanded directly. "And do not waste time by
lying to me."
"I
was not well," Ginny whispered with difficulty. "Oh, do not act vexed
with me, love. I have missed you so and would have come if I could."
"That
whoreson hurt you, didn't he?" The green-brown eyes were pinpricks of
fury, and Ginny knew she could deceive him no longer.
"Alex,
it will never happen again. I beg you to believe that. It is over and—"
"How
can you say that?" he exclaimed in an undertone. "What he has done
once, he can do again."
Ginny
shook her head determinedly. "He will not! I will know what to do if he
attempts it another time."
"This
has to stop. We cannot go on like this." Alex spoke swiftly, hearing
Susannah's step on the path. "Tomorrow morning, in the glade, and if you
fail me, I shall come for you."
"General,
I think we should be returning." Susannah reappeared. "My husband
will be looking for me." She reached for her cloak, then embraced Ginny.
"Dine with us tomorrow, Ginny."
"It
will depend upon Giles," Ginny replied, returning the hug.
"Then
come without him," declared Susannah with a defiant glare.
"You
had best not let Robert hear you say such a thing," Ginny said with an
understanding chuckle, and Susannah smiled a little guiltily.
"No,
he would not approve, and I do not know I'm sure what the general must be
thinking, hearing us talk like this."
"I
am certain the general will keep his reflections to himself, will you not,
sir?" Ginny looked at him, and her chin lifted in the old challenging way.
"Where
things don't concern him, mistress," he replied evenly. "But do not
expect him to keep silence when matters touch him nearly."
Ginny
saw them off, biting her lip ruefully. As she had feared, Alex was not going to
allow this business to rest. And she knew from experience how hard he was to
resist when his mind was set.
Just
how difficult he was going to be became apparent the next morning when she
reached the glade. He was pacing restlessly, kicking up the damp leaves, a deep
scowl disfiguring his expression, and it did not lift when he saw her.
"Good,"
he said briefly, "you are come. I was about to fetch you."
"Do
not be absurd," Ginny said, wondering if he was ever going to kiss her.
She lifted her face imperatively. "Am I not to be greeted in appropriate
fashion, sir?"
Alex
pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a fierce hunger, holding her close
against him as if he would make her a part of him and thus safe from the
depredations of the world. When he released her mouth, he still held her,
looking down at her upturned, smiling face. "You are going to be
obstinate, aren't you, Virginia?" He shook his head in exasperation. "I
expected it, of course."
"I
shall only be obstinate if you are," returned Ginny. standing on tiptoe to
kiss the corner of his mouth. "Let us not spoil this precious time in
argument." Her smile deepened, the glow in her eyes shone luminous.
"I have a great need to be loved."
"And
I to love you," he replied, loosening the strings of her cloak. "It
is to be hoped this mantle is thick enough to keep the damp from striking
through."
Afterward,
he propped himself on an elbow beside her, tracing her lips with one finger.
"This is another thing that is going to have to change. Open-air loving is
all very well in high summer, but it grows chilly."
Ginny
frowned thoughtfully. "I wonder if I could approach the village chief.
There is an empty hut that—"
"No,
that will not do." Alex silenced her with a finger on her lips. "I am
not creeping around Indian villages. Now, just listen to me, my obstinate
little gypsy."
Ginny
sighed. "I suppose I must listen."
"Yes,
you must," he said firmly. "I travel to Jamestown at the end of the
week with Robert, to attend the session of the legislature."
"How
long will you be gone?" she asked, desolate at the thought of his absence.
"Perhaps
two weeks, no longer. While I am away, I will arrange passage for us on the
next ship for the Indies—"
"No!"
Ginny struggled to sit up. "Do not be foolish."
"I
am not being foolish. Will you just do me the courtesy of listening to
me?" Alex waited until she had subsided, before continuing. "I have
decided what we are to do. Clearly we cannot stay here, and things will not be
much better in England. I do not know how I could keep you hidden, and there
would be much unpleasantness if our relations were discovered. Therefore—"
"But
Alex-"
"Therefore,"
he said, placing his palm over her mouth, "we shall sail to the Indies, to
Barbados, where we may settle, and no one will know who or what we are. I will
buy a plantation and—"
Ginny
nipped his palm vigorously until he was forced to ungag her. "I listened
to you; now you will listen to me. I will not agree to any such plan. You are
an Englishman too strongly rooted in your country to be able to leave it and
make another life with any happiness. You must have a wife and children, not an
adulterous mistress. Yes, I know it is a painful truth, my love," she said
more moderately, seeing the hurt in his eyes. "But I could not live with
the knowledge of what I had deprived you of, and eventually you would blame me
for all the things you could have had, that were your right, that you have fought
for with such passionate commitment."
"You
think so little of me, of my love for you, that you could believe such a
thing?" Alex demanded, getting abruptly to his feet.
"Not
of you, or of the love that we share, but I face the truth," whispered
Ginny, rising also. "Do not think any more of this, please. We will manage
as best we may, until you must return to England."
"And
if I tell you that I will carry you off, whether you will or no?"
"You
would have to kidnap, bind, and gag me," she said with a light laugh that should
not have sounded brittle but did. "Think of the scandal on board ship when
you appear—"