Authors: Mary Adair
Chapter Five
"Willie, listen to me," Dawn whispered harshly as she tugged at William's arm.
She leaned close. "Someone cut the girth strap on the saddle."
William's eyes widened as her revelation took hold. "You mean to tell me that someone tampered with Raven's saddle? Good Lord, who in London would be so stupid?"
She gave his arm a tug. "No, no. You don't understand."
"Don't understand what, my dear?" Lady Gaylord interrupted, as she opened the parlor door.
Dawn squeezed William's arm to warn him to silence. "Nothing really." She smiled sweetly as she turned to face the Lady. "I was just telling William about my village." Lady Gaylord's response was not what Dawn had hoped for.
"Don't just stand there you two." She briskly waved toward the open door to the parlor. "I'd love to hear more about your village. Come this way, both of you. It's time for tea. Come along, come along."
William reached around Dawn to place his gloves on the entryway table. "Just calm yourself, Grams. We'll join you." As he straightened, he gave Dawn a conspiratorial wink. "It's a bit early for tea, don't you think?"
"Nonsense, Willie." Lady Gaylord grinned as she peeked at him through her lashes. "It's always time for tea when there are interesting things to talk about."
William sauntered toward Lady Gaylord. "With you, my dear Grams, there is always something interesting to talk about." He leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek. "You don't spice that tea of yours a bit, do you?"
Lady Gaylord giggled and blushed prettily as she playfully swatted at William. "Oh, you are a rascal. Get in there and have a seat before you start a rumor."
"What's one more rumor, eh, Grams?" William said, as he walked into the parlor.
Lady Gaylord turned to Dawn. "Come, dear. I can hardly wait to hear more about Chota Town. Your father never tells us enough on his visits."
William's teasing and her hostess' pleasant happiness was contagious, causing Dawn to smile as she moved forward. But the expression froze on her face as Marguerite’s voice reached her ears.
"I've always enjoyed morning tea."
Dawn cringed as she slowly turned. Waiting expectantly at the top of the stairs stood Marguerite. With an imperious smirk, the woman descended the stairs as if she owned them. There were few people whom Dawn could say she truly disliked. In most cases even an enemy possessed some trait, a belief, or motivation, which earned respect. Not Marguerite. Dawn perceived the woman's lack of honor. It burned in the hollow depths of this adversary's eyes. Dawn ran a hand along the chill bumps springing up along her arms.
"Please, Marguerite, join us in the parlor," Lady Gaylord offered graciously. She stopped William's hasty attempt to escape with a firm hand on his chest. Turning William about, she pushed him back through the parlor doorway and reached for the bell cord.
Not waiting for Marguerite, Dawn followed Lady Gaylord into the parlor. Thanks to her Aunt Bess and all those lessons in decorum, that she so hated as a child, Dawn felt she would be able to hold her own in the coming confrontation.
When all were in the room and Lady Gaylord positioned securely in the doorway to hinder any escapees, she waved an arm in warm invitation. "Please, sit wherever you wish. We're very informal here."
"Yes, milady?" Sara spoke softly from the hallway.
"Oh!" Lady Gaylord turned to her. "Would you serve tea, please, Sara? And bring some of those lovely little cakes you baked this morning."
Sara bobbed. "Yes, milady." She glanced up and spotted Dawn. They exchanged smiles.
"Oh, Sara," Lady Gaylord called out. "Please inform Lady Montgomery that we're having tea."
"Yes, milady." Sara bobbed and hurried on her way.
Dawn was not surprised when Marguerite chose a place on the sofa where the sunlight, streaming in through open drapes, would be to her back. With a flourish, she settled herself and arranged the folds of her skirt with meticulous care.
Satisfied, she addressed Dawn in the voice one might use to a tiresome child. "You and la domestique—the little servant-girl—seem to have an oh-so-cozy friendship."
Her lips spread in a superior smile that didn't reach her eyes. Patting at a curl, she spoke with a soft French accent. "I suppose in the colonies where there iz less of a class distinction, servants are treated differently." With a dainty shrug she continued, "I think you must remember you are in England now."
William, who had not yet taken a seat, frowned slightly. His gaze lazily sought Dawn's. He winked and then took a seat near the window. His choice told Dawn that he preferred not to be included in the cozy little circle, but offered her his support.
"Here," Marguerite continued in the same condescending tone, "it iz important to keep a clear distinction between classes. I have always found that servants are happier and more secure when there iz no confusion about their place."
Dawn smiled sweetly. "You are right, of course." She was used to women like Marguerite. Unfortunately, her type was not limited to England. "The recognition of others for the persons they are, rather than by their pedigree, works quite nicely where I come from." Dawn glanced down as she ran a fingertip along the bracelet given to her by her mother. "It is the way I choose to see others. It is also the way I choose to treat others."
William loudly cleared his throat.
Marguerite managed a tight smile as she nodded slightly. When she raised her face toward Dawn, hate flashed in her light brown eyes. "How very egalitarian of you."
Dawn felt as well as saw the responding ripple in the room. Lady Gaylord, alert to the mounting tension, waved her handkerchief vigorously before her face and looked toward her grandson for assistance. William, who to all the world appeared to be having a marvelous time, only grinned. An answering grin fought its way onto Dawn's face and Lady Gaylord visibly relaxed. Marguerite was left to pretend that she was unaware her barb had gone astray.
"I'd say the ball was quite a success, wouldn't you, Willie?" Lady Gaylord chatted along happily, not waiting for William's response. "I'm so glad you're feeling better today, Dawn. We really should have allowed you more time to rest from your journey. I do hope you decide to stay for an extended visit."
Before Dawn could comment, Sara returned with a tray heavily laden with bone china serving pieces, a large platter of pastries and a tea server. Happy for the distraction, Dawn was quick to flaunt her poor Colonial manners once again in Marguerite’s face. "Here Sara, let me help you with your burden." Dawn offered as she rose from her seat.
Lady Gaylord's brow rose and her cheeks puffed with mischievous glee. "Let me help too," she spoke as she pushed herself up from her seat. Taking a cup and a saucer in each hand from the tray, she set them on the table.
Dawn took the plate of cakes and also set them on the table. This lightened the tray considerably and Sara let it rise unintentionally before she giggled lightly and righted it in her hands. Dawn and Lady Gaylord laughed along with the petite redhead.
Marguerite sat in stiff silence as she watched the three women. Dawn could only imagine the shock this condescending woman suffered. Dawn had been pleasantly surprised by the way the servants were treated in this very aristocratic English household. Her pleasure grew as the moments passed.
William, who had helped himself to a cup of tea while the three giggled merrily, relaxed back into his seat. "Ladies," he called playfully. They all looked his
way. He casually crossed his legs, and with a broad grin and exaggerated salute, raised his cup high. "Please, help yourselves to tea."
This started the three into another round of laughter. "Don't mind him," Lady Gaylord announced, "He often helps himself and then pretends as if he were mistreated." She placed a conspiratorial hand on Sara's arm and leaned closer. "He's always a bit anxious, isn't that correct, dear?"
Dawn watched, fascinated.
"Oh, milady." Sara blushed prettily. "I would say everything about Lord William is perfect."
"Ah!" William puffed. "A woman after my own heart."
"Even if he is a bit nervous and sometimes a tease," Sara finished as she poured a cup and handed it to Marguerite.
William grunted, but didn't say anything.
"Quite right, my dear," Lady Gaylord responded jovially as she patted the corners of her eyes. Reaching out, she took the cup offered to her by Dawn.
Unable to hold her words another moment, Marguerite interrupted the quaint scene. "Dawn," her voice dripped in honeyed tones. "I couldn't help but overhear you speak to William of your mother's village." She made a show of rearranging her cup and saucer. "You must have many interesting stories about your visits there. I'm sure we would all find a story fascinating."
I'm sure you would. Dawn smiled warmly at Sara as she passed her a filled cup. Before turning to Marguerite, Dawn noticed the expectant humor in William's eyes. "I never intended to mislead," she answered with a sweet smile. "I didn't grow up in Charles Town, though I did often visit my Aunt Bess there. My father and I have always lived in Chota Town."
She added a spoon of sugar to her tea and stirred the brew gently as she continued. "I'm proud to say, in spite of the color of my skin and hair, I am thoroughly Cherokee." The only sound in the room was the gentle swish of the spoon in the cup and the light ping as the spoon came to rest on the saucer.
Dawn was aware that Sara bobbed to Lady Gaylord and quietly left the room. She also noticed how William watched her new friend's every move until she left the room.
"I was just explaining to William the importance of family to the Cherokee." If Marguerite begged for a story, Dawn would give her one to think about. She faced her adversary, carefully choosing her words. "For example, if some evil is done to someone in a family, and especially if that evil leads to death, it becomes a..." she paused as if struggling for the right word, "a mission for one of the other family members to discover and punish the wrongdoer."
"Oui, I see," Marguerite puffed with enthusiasm. "Revenge!"
So, Marguerite is vengeful as well as conceited and a snob. "Justice," Dawn corrected as she took mental note of what she had just learned about Raven's fiancée. "Do civilized men not have a way to correct or punish?"
"But of course," Marguerite answered with a wave of her hand.
"In England," William spoke up, "as I am sure it is in Charles Town, we have appointed men whose job it is to investigate. It is against the law for family members to involve themselves in the carrying out of justice." Dawn was aware that he watched her closely.
"What about dueling " Dawn asked innocently as she raised her cup to her lips.
"Ah yes, there is dueling." He flashed Dawn a mischievous grin. "It's an honorable way, if carried out properly, for gentlemen" he stressed the word, "to handle minor differences." He waggled a finger in warning. "Not something for a lady to be concerned or involved with."
"Oui. Spoken like a true man." Marguerite raised her teacup in salute. "Tell me, Willie. How many duels have you fought over the honor of , shall we say, a lady?"
"Enough of this talk of revenge and duels," Lady Montgomery made her presence known. She lowered her brows as she frowned at William, "Which by the way are illegal." Her futures softened as she glided to the small table where she helped herself to a cup of tea. "Dawn, I'm so glad you're back from your ride, dear. I am just dying to hear more about what brought you here."
"More! What have you heard Wilhelmina, and how did you hear more than me?"
William rolled his eyes heavenward. "You see," William spoke to Dawn. "If one knows more than the other, it unbalances them both."
"Oh, Willie, don't be silly. Dawn told me she had a dream that she was needed. That's all she had time to tell me. Please dear, tell us all about it."
"Oh, my." Marguerite was alight with interest "Do all Cherokees take their dreams so seriously?" she asked with an obvious sneer, making the word Cherokee sound like a deprecating curse.
Ignoring the nasty tone, Dawn made her explanation to the grandmothers and William. "The Great Spirit often talks to us in our dreams and in other ways as well. Any warrior can have a dream vision. Sometimes there is one who has an especially strong gift. My mother is one of those blessed in this way. I believe I am as well."
"How can you be so sure?" Marguerite asked. "Perhaps your vision was no more than a simple dream." She brought her cup up to her lips to sip as she studied Dawn over the rim.
"It was very real." Dawn assured her. "Dream visions are quite different from ordinary sleeping dreams, although the Spirit can speak through them as well."
Lady Montgomery, perched in eager anticipation on the edge of her chair, could hold her tongue no longer. "What was your dream vision about, dear?"
"Yes. Yes, Dawn. Please tell us," Lady Gaylord begged.
Dawn looked to William, silently seeking support. What she saw was skepticism.
Marguerite glared over the rim of her cup. "By all means, Dawn. Tell us what you saw."
Dawn was learning to hate that superior smirk on Marguerite’s face. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was here to save Raven from a person threatening to end his life, not merely to ruin his life with a bad marriage.