Riverbreeze: Part 2 (50 page)

Thinking about her condition, he became angry again. It had burned him up when he had found out how Nathan had allowed them to become separated. He hadn’t punished the servant yet, but he would tonight after he discussed the situation with Jamie.

Returning to the other side of the room, he placed the candle on the washstand, threw off his nightshirt, unwrapped the bandages from around his hands and standing on an old piece of linen toweling, proceeded to give himself a quick allover wash, concentrating on his armpits and groin. The water was cold and he shivered and bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to keep warm.

As soon as he dried off in front of the fire and believing that being well-dressed might improve his case, he dug deep down to the bottom of the clothes chest and pulled out a fine linen shirt with four inches of lace at the end of the sleeves and a pair of silk, lace-edged boot hose. With a heavy heart, he slipped into the shirt, remembering the last time he had worn it and these hose. He had never thought to wear them again, saving them to be buried in when he died, for the last time he had worn these garments had been to Kathleen’s funeral and once before that, to their wedding.

Now he stood for a moment, clutching the lace in his tender palms. His hands were still sore, even though he had allowed Abigail and Elizabeth to treat his burns with a salve made from honey, goldenseal and calendula. For a second, he wanted to rip the lace from the sleeves; he wanted to tear the shirt from his body. Why had he decided to wear it today? Why torture himself with the memories this shirt evoked in him? Because it was his best shirt and because he wanted to impress his peers. It was as simple as that.

Resolved, he pulled on his wool breeches, then the hose, then his boots, arranging the lace neatly over the tops of the boots, then his doublet. He gave his hair a thorough brushing, tying it back with a green velvet ribbon. Then he reached for his swordbelt with sword and matching parrying dagger where it was hanging on a peg on the wall, and very carefully he secured it around his waist. He didn’t want the sword clanging against anything, waking either Elizabeth or Robin.

Checking both of them again to see if indeed they were still asleep, he thought about last night when he had pulled the swaddled sword and dagger out from under the bed to show them. Elizabeth had been sitting on the bed with Robin in her lap. Robin had improved significantly over the past day, enough so that he could sit quietly without whining or crying.

He laid the package on the bed beside them.

“What dat?” Robin asked, his hand reaching out to grab the bundle.

“That is not for you to touch.” Elizabeth said gently, catching his hand and drawing it back.

“This is Daddy’s sword and dagger. These are not play things, son, just like my hunting knife, but very dangerous weapons.” Robert explained to Robin, as he carefully and reverently unwrapped the items. Exposed, candlelight reflected off of the highly polished blades and swept-hilt of the sword.

“Oh my!” Elizabeth breathed, impressed with the matching pair of weapons.

Attracted to the shiny metal, Robin reached for them again.

“No!” Elizabeth scolded, grabbing Robin’s hand more forcefully this time. “I told you not to touch them.”

“Elizabeth…” Robert’s low voice gently scolded her.

“Want to!” Robin insisted.

She sighed. “I know, sweetheart. They are beautiful. More beautiful than my father’s were.”

“I doubt that.” Robert said. “Your father was a goldsmith; his were probably gilded in gold.”

Reluctantly Elizabeth confessed with a little smile. “Well, they were, and he also had set jewels in the hilts…” She quickly continued after Robert’s mouth had dropped open. “But these are more beautiful in their simplicity.”

Robert didn’t agree with her, but thanked her anyway.

“You’re welcome.” She whispered.

“Me touch?” Robin asked in a small voice, entreating his father. Knowing that Elizabeth had already forbid him to touch the weapons, he looked up at his father with his best imploring look.

Robert chuckled. “You may touch the hilt, Robin, but never the blade. Like this.” And he picked up the dagger and showed his son how to hold it. Elizabeth kept her lips pressed together in a tight thin line. Robert knew she didn’t agree with allowing the boy to handle the dagger, but he had to learn at some point.

He turned the dagger around and took Robin’s hand and wrapped it around the polished bone grip while still keeping a hold of it himself. Robin’s eyes lit up and he smiled widely. “My daggah?” The boy asked.

Robert chuckled again, but spoke firmly when he said, “Maybe someday, son, but no, this is not your dagger. Remember, this is Daddy’s and these weapons are not play things. They are quite deadly.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful tomorrow.” Elizabeth implored, looking at Robert with worried eyes.

Her genuine concern warmed his heart. “I promise.” He whispered back.

He didn’t want to die. He had never thought about taking his own life or wishing for an early death, even after Kathleen had passed on. He had his son to think of and now, a wife, a wife he did not want to leave.

Shaking off these morbid thoughts, he now picked up his hat and gloves and headed for the doorway.

Jamie, however, suddenly appeared there, fully dressed and carrying Evelyn like a baby, she still in her nightgown. Her arms were around his neck and her head was on his shoulder. She looked very sleepy and disheveled, and her nose was as red as a cherry.

Before Robert could say a word, Jamie explained in a low voice. “She wants to join Elizabeth in bed.”

“Do you mind?” Evelyn asked in a small voice.

Robert shook his head. “No, but try not to wake her up.”

It was too late. The dogs had started wagging their tails vigorously at the sight of Jamie and Evelyn, and the motion of the bed and the closeness of her sister had awakened Elizabeth.

“Evie?” She called in a sleepy voice, propping herself up on one elbow.

Robert moved to the foot of the bed, looking apologetic. “I had hoped we wouldn’t wake you.” He said. He shot Jamie an accusatory look. Jamie brushed him off, sidling past him to carry Evelyn to the bed.

“’Tis all right.” Elizabeth said, flipping the covers off Robert’s side of the bed for Evelyn. Jamie gently deposited his wife next to her sister and the twins immediately snuggled together. Jamie tucked them in, giving his wife a kiss on her cheek, and then the dogs nestled next to their legs.

“Robert?” Elizabeth called to her husband, expecting the same.

And then from his trundle bed, Robin whimpered. “Daddy?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. He had wanted so much to get out of the room without waking either one of them and now they were both up! “I’m here, son.” He said softly, keeping his irritation out of his voice. He dropped his hat and gloves on the bed and went to Robin’s side.

“Me wet, Daddy.”

“I know. Let’s get you changed in front of the fire.”

Elizabeth sat up again. “I’ll do it.” She said automatically even though her nose was all stuffed up and she felt terrible.

She sounded terrible too. “No, you stay put.” Robert ordered, picking his son up under his underarms. He carried him, dangling, to the fireplace.

“I’ll help.” Jamie offered.

“Thank you, Jamie.” Elizabeth said around a yawn. In seconds she was snuggled in with her sister again and had fallen back asleep.

Robert exchanged another look with Jamie, shaking his head in wonderment. He would never get used to their unusual behavior. Jamie just shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t try to analyze the twins anymore. Robert should probably do the same.

Silently, they cleaned Robin up and got him dressed, being very careful not to hurt his feet and lower legs.

Then after another wistful look at his wife, Robert, carrying Robin in his arms, and walking beside his brother, proceeded to finally leave the bedchamber. Out in the hall, Robert asked, “Do you think we could practice a little before we go?”

“How are your hands?” Jamie asked.

“You saw them. They’re still sore, but I’ll have Abigail wrap them again. That should make the pain manageable.”

“You hope.” Jamie retorted.

Robert glared at his brother. Didn’t Jamie think that he could stand a little pain?

Put in his place, Jamie conceded. “I’ll get my sword.” He said.

* * *

The practice session went badly. Robert’s hands were killing him, even after Abigail had treated them with salve and wrapped them. He missed a few steps and Jamie, the little weasel, actually nicked him in the forearm, poking holes right through the sleeves of his doublet and shirt. Alas, his best shirt; it wasn’t his best anymore even though it would only take a few stitches to mend it.

“I’m sorry.” Jamie said for the tenth time as he helped Robert mount Penny. Jamie had suggested they ride the horses rather than take the canoe up the river to Westover and Robert had agreed, even though it would have been easier to travel by water. On horse they would have to cross Herring Creek that bordered their land and avoid the swamps that were on either side of the creek. But Jamie had gone this way with Evelyn last Sunday and had convinced Robert that the ride would be pleasant.

“And I said, forget it.” He snapped, irritated at himself and his poor performance during practice. He was also tired of Jamie’s apologies; after it happened, all through the bandaging, all through breakfast. It had been an accident just like the other times when they had practiced together, especially when they had first started years ago. Even with wooden swords they had hurt each other, sometimes seriously. “Remember, I’ve given you your share of cuts and bruises over the years.” He added, as he settled himself into the saddle. He adjusted the sword at his hip, the dagger and his pistol at his waist, and then caught the sack of food which was their lunch that Jamie tossed up to him. He tucked the cord into his belt and then took up the reins in his gloved hands.

“True…like the time you nearly poked my eye out.” Jamie reminded Robert as he mounted Pisador. He also took a minute to adjust his sword and dagger and pistol. He would be acting as Robert’s second; there had been no doubt about that, but Robert wasn’t too happy about it.

“I did not!” Robert denied hotly, although in truth he did nearly poke Jamie’s eye out, but he would never admit it.

“You did too!” Jamie retorted. He clicked his tongue at Pisador while gently nudging his heels into the horse’s side. Eager to go, the horse danced around a little, then settled into an easy gait.

Robert kicked Penny to keep pace with Pisador. “Well, I remember it not.” He lied easily, wanting to irritate his brother a little.

And it worked. “How could you forget?” Jamie exclaimed, giving Robert an exasperated look. “Father had just given us our first wooden swords and he hired that snippy, beak-nosed Percy…

“Oh, yes, now I remember old Percy.” Robert said with a chuckle.

“And remember when he gave us our first lesson and after he left, we fooled around a little on our own and that’s when you nearly poked my eye out?”

“And you nearly gelded me!”

“I did not!” This time it was Jamie’s turn to deny it. “Besides you cannot geld someone with a wooden sword.”

“I had that awful bruise on my thigh for weeks…” Robert stated bitterly.

“And I had that ugly bruise on my face for…well, weeks too!” Jamie retorted, looking indignant.

Suddenly, Robert burst out laughing at the look on Jamie’s face. “We had some grand times, didn’t we?”

Reluctantly Jamie cracked a smile too. “We must have broken at least a dozen swords each.”

“And we nearly killed each other that many times too.”

“I’m surprised father gave us the real swords when he did. Do you remember?”

“I was sixteen…” Robert said wistfully.

“And I was fourteen. He couldn’t give one to you without giving one to me even though I was too young to be given a real sword. I remember how speechless I was; I was in shock and in awe.”

“I was too. They’re beauties…even to this day.”

They were silent for a while, each of them remembering past lessons and mock duels, listening to the melodic clip-clop of the horses’ hooves as they rode through one cleared field toward the woods that covered most of their property. Robert hoped that when he faced Sparshott later on that day that he would remember some of that training even though it hadn’t done him any good this morning.

How that rankled him, Jamie besting him this morning. He had never liked it when his little brother had beaten him.

A stray horsefly buzzed close to Robert’s face and he swatted angrily at it, but it kept coming back, irritating him to high heaven.

At least the weather was cooperating. Yesterday’s rain had stopped in the middle of the night leaving the morning air fresh and crisp. There was a chill in the air, nothing unusual for November, and a slight breeze so he was glad for the sun’s warmth on his back.

As they approached the woods, passing several dead trees that had been girdled this past winter, the drumming of a downy woodpecker filled their ears. Robert looked up to see him way at the top of the trunk. “That tree is next.” He said. “I’ll start on it tomorrow with Nathan… and Dolnick…” He looked over at Jamie. “With your permission, of course.”