Mariah…that is a beautiful name.”
They’d ridden through the dim woods in silence for a time. No sounds accompanied the steady clop-clop of the horse’s hooves other than the rush of wind through the treetops and the trilling of birds, so Colin Barclay’s richly modulated voice startled Mariah. He had a sort of lazy-sounding accent she found quite pleasant to the ear. She struggled to maintain a calm demeanor before answering. “So I’ve been told.”
Neither spoke for another quiet span, until Mariah decided that conversing might help to dispel some of her unease, particularly if she selected the topic. “My father chose to call my other sisters by rather fanciful biblical names—Rose of Sharon and Lily of the Valley. But because I favored one of my late aunts, I was named after her.”
“It suits you perfectly.” His mouth was so close to her ear, she felt the warmth of his breath. “Mariah…Your name fairly floats on the breeze like a will-o’-the-wisp.”
She answered cheerily, hoping to keep the moment light. “My, but aren’t you the poetic one. Speaking of families—”
“I didn’t know I was.” His breath feathered across her ear again.
“Speaking of families,” Mariah repeated evenly as she sat up straighter, “I’ve got two brothers at home in Bath. Have you any brothers or sisters?”
She heard him inhale, and the leather saddle creaked as he adjusted his position. “I’m the only surviving son. I do have three younger sisters, however. The youngest is eight, and the oldest is fifteen.”
Mariah gave a small nod. “As you must have concluded from the speech that dreadful Captain Durning gave regarding the three of us, our mother went to be with the Lord more than a decade ago, rest her soul. Are both your parents still living?”
“Yes.” A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “They’re both very much alive.”
“Then you are truly blessed.” With that third reference to her family’s faith, Mariah hoped to quell any untoward plans Colin Barclay might have. Though she was by no means as ardent as Rose in her religious beliefs, Mariah did retain certain standards, and she knew her actions on the auction platform had stretched propriety more than a little.
Gazing forward, she noticed they were about to break out of the trees, into the safer light of day. She spotted a river just ahead of them on the wagon-rutted road and saw a ferry dock jutting out at the bottom of the bank. A light wind stirred shallow whitecaps here and there among the current. “Will we be crossing to the other side?”
“Aye, as a matter of fact, we will. We’ll cross this river along with several others before we reach my place.”
“So many?” Mariah frowned. Just how far away was this place of his? And would the daylight hold out until they reached their destination?
“Yes. Quite a few. We’ll dismount for the ride over, give Paladin a chance to rest. It’ll take us almost the entire day to reach the plantation at the leisurely pace we’ve been travelin’,” he drawled. “Since we’re ridin’ double, I don’t want to put too much on the boy.” He leaned harder against Mariah to administer a pat to the bay’s muscled dark brown neck. “He’s bred for speed. I’ve won some pretty pennies with him.”
“He certainly is a fine-looking animal.” Mariah deftly tilted forward to keep at least the semblance of a proper distance between her and her owner. So the man was a gambler. How many other vices did he have?
As if taking her subtle hint, Colin straightened his posture. “Yes, we’re quite proud of our stable.”
We? Was the blighter married? He couldn’t possibly be, could he? But then it was entirely feasible there may not be a mother, either. It might be advantageous to plan some sort of hasty escape, should one become necessary. He’d reported that Alexandria, where Rose was headed, was a short distance from his plantation. She might be able to seek a safe haven there with her older sister. In any case, Mariah knew she would need her luggage. “With such a distance to your plantation, do you think my trunks will arrive by wagon before the morrow?”
“Of course. I gave the driver a generous tip. He’s probably not more than a mile or so behind us.” He paused. “Speaking of those trunks—if the gowns they contain are even remotely as fashionable as the one you’re wearin’, you could have sold them and paid your own fare to Baltimore, thereby avoidin’ an indenturement entirely. Not that I’m complainin’ at all.”
Picking up on the eager note in his tone, Mariah decided she’d be relieved when they were able to dismount so she could see his face and discern his true merit. She tried for a bright lilt when she spoke. “Surely you know a young gentlewoman could not possibly present herself in public without an adequate wardrobe.” Then, recalling the way Rose had ravaged all their best frocks, she couldn’t help a moment’s grousing. “I do grieve, however, that my sister felt compelled to sell my two most elegant evening gowns.”
“Hmm. If you don’t mind my askin’,” Colin said as they started down the bank, “what dire calamity befell your family that necessitated your having to sail across the ocean? I believe you said your father is a goldsmith and that you resided in a most fashionable resort, did you not?”
“Ah, yes. The calamity.” Mariah shook her head, feeling her blood heat at the memory. “The cause was the untimely death of a rapscallion young nobleman. The young lord had purchased dozens of very expensive brooches on account for his many lady friends, for which my father was never reimbursed. After the scoundrel’s death, his uppity skinflint uncle refused to honor his nephew’s enormous debt. In turn, my father was not able to pay his.”
“I see. Say no more for the moment,” Colin spoke quietly as they reached the dock. “Ferry operators have the loosest tongues in the colonies.”
As Colin swung down from the stallion, Mariah eyed the wiry ferrymen, one at the mule-drawn wheel and the other opening the front gate of the docked flatboat. She wished she could question them, learn from their lips who exactly her handsome owner was. But as he took his time lifting her down, then wrapped an arm about her waist before leading the horse onto the raft, she doubted she’d have the chance to question anyone.
Mariah had to admit that Colin Barclay had not lied about the distance, at least. They’d passed numerous plantations containing miles of rolling, cultivated farmland and several charming hamlets brimming with a veritable symphony of flowers that took her breath away with their brilliant hues. The colonists appeared every bit as industrious as the folks back home in Britain. She suppressed a weary sigh when Colin finally suggested they stop at a roadside inn to rest the horse and partake of a meal. The horse wasn’t the only one who needed a rest. Hours of bumping her bottom against the hard leather saddle had taken its own toll. Would she be able to manage anything akin to a ladylike walk once her feet touched solid ground?
Colin reined their mount onto a gravel-lined drive that fronted a two-story fieldstone building with royal-blue shutters and double doors. A sign hanging from a signpost read Knight’s Rest Inn. He swung down to the ground and reached up to assist Mariah. The weakness in her legs did make it difficult to stand, momentarily, and she more than appreciated the way he steadied her with a strong arm.
A freckle-faced lad came running from around the side of the inn, his floppy cloth cap almost tumbling from his copper hair with each footfall. “Mr. Barclay! Back already?” Then, spying Mariah, he slowed to a stop and gawked at her. “Oh. Uh…I better see to your horse.”
Grinning, Colin flipped him a coin. “I’d appreciate that, Billy.”
Even outside the structure, Mariah could detect a delicious mixture of food smells emanating from within, and her stomach came close to rumbling. Thank heaven it wouldn’t be another moldy shipboard meal awaiting her here! And the boy had called Colin by name, so surely that had to be her owner’s true identity. Mayhap everything else he’d told her would prove to be true, as well. Perhaps he actually did have a mother to whom he would deliver her.
As he opened one of the blue doors and escorted Mariah inside, she determined that by the time the meal was over, she’d learn whether or not he had a wife, or her name wasn’t Mariah Harwood.
“Good day, Mr. Barclay.” The exuberant greeting came from a flaxen-haired serving girl balancing a tray of soiled dishes against her shapely hip as Colin escorted Mariah across the inn’s low-ceilinged common room. The girl’s gaze then swung to the beauty on his arm, and her smile flattened.
The server had every reason to be envious, Colin conceded. Any woman who entered Mariah Harwood’s sphere would place a distant second. Long lashes framed her stunning violet eyes under tapered brows, and beneath her straw bonnet, silky brown-black curls caressed her slender shoulders. He could hardly keep his eyes from focusing on the soft, rosebud lips that turned up at the corners. The English beauty was as much a champion as Paladin. “Where would you like us to sit, Peggy?”
Her attention returned to Colin, and she flopped her free hand in a casual gesture. “Anywheres. We ain’t too busy this time of day. Will you be wantin’ a meal?”
“Yes. And some cool cider, if you please.”
The ruffle on her mobcap bobbed with her nod as she carted the soiled dishes to the kitchen.
Colin figured that if they chose to sit at one of the long wooden tables occupying the center of the room, some bloke might scoot in next to his lovely companion. Wanting to keep her all to himself, he seated Mariah at a small square table by a window, then took the opposite chair while she settled her skirts about her. Only a sprinkling of other patrons talked among themselves as they enjoyed their food. None seemed to pay Colin and Mariah any mind.
“I hope I don’t reek of horse too much,” Mariah commented, wrinkling her nose. “That serving girl, Peg, didn’t seem too pleased with me.”
Colin chuckled. “My dear Mariah! You are a star that outshines all other young maidens. I would imagine you’d be used to that sort of reaction by now.”
The small ivory plume on her bonnet dipped as she gifted him with a coy tilt of her head. “La, but you do flatter me.”
“Truth is not flattery.”
“That may be so. However, my sister Rose never ceases to remind me that true beauty is not outward but comes from within.”
He sat back and grinned. “Ah, yes. The valiant Rose. She makes quite the impression on one.”
Mariah’s tapered brows knitted closer as her expression filled with dismay. “Dear Rose. Having to go with that grimy oaf who bought her. I cannot believe she’s bonded to someone like that awful man. I do hope she will fare all right.”
Reaching across the table, Colin covered Mariah’s smaller hand with his. “Don’t fret. Your sister seems to be a stalwart sort. And I’m sure we saw that fellow at his worst. Since he works for a fur company, he most likely just arrived from the wilderness. Once he reaches home, his missus will no doubt make sure that he’s scrubbed down good and proper.”
“Oh, my.” Mariah sighed with longing. “I’ve not had a real soak in a tub since we departed England.” Twin spots of color suddenly sprang to life on her cheeks. She jerked her hand from beneath his and covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “I cannot believe I uttered something so unseemly in the presence of a gentleman. Pray, do forget my rash words.”
“Never fear, my dear Mariah,” he said gently. “Unseemly or not, I’ll see that you have your wish the moment we arrive at home.”
His remark seemed to aid the return of her composure, as she visibly relaxed. “Bless you.” She paused. “I certainly wouldn’t want to cause your wife undue inconvenience.”
Colin couldn’t help but chuckle at her not-so-subtle attempt to gain personal information. “I have no wife, I’m sorry to say…nor even a betrothed, much to the dismay of my matchmaking mother.”
He caught the barest hint of a smile playing with a corner of Mariah’s rosy lips just as Peggy arrived. The serving girl bore a platter loaded with tall glasses of cider and plates heaping with shepherd’s pie, along with generous chunks of crusty bread. Setting it down, she distributed the various items without meeting either of their eyes and quickly swung away, her serviceable indigo skirt flaring with her movements.
Mariah seemed oblivious to the girl as she immediately picked up her fork and speared a bit of meat. Obviously her ladyship wasn’t too coy to reveal she was as hungry as he was. Suddenly, however, she stopped, her fork posed midair. “Do forgive me. I was so caught up in the delicious scent of real food after the sorry ship’s fare we were forced to endure that I completely forgot my manners. You must think me a heathen, not waiting for you to bless our food.”
She expected him to pray aloud? In this public place? A quick glance around revealed that the other customers didn’t even know he and Mariah were there, but from the corner of his eye he could see Peggy observing them. Still, he couldn’t allow this lovely Englishwoman to think a Virginia gentleman was any less a Christian than she. “Shall we bow our heads?” Even as he said the words, he felt heat climbing his neck. “Father in heaven, we thank You for this hearty meal. And thank You,” he tacked on for good measure, “for Mariah Harwood’s safe arrival to our shores. We know it had to be Your providence that brought me to the Baltimore wharf at the very moment she was most in need. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Amen.” After her echoing whisper, Mariah met his eyes, her own filled with questions. “May I ask what brought you to the docks so far from your home?” She sliced a bit of the pie’s potato crust.
“Horses. I delivered a mare and her foal to a man about to embark by ship to Bermuda. I made certain the animals were safely aboard and then left…and that’s when I saw you in your lovely blue gown and bonnet.”
“I see.” With a smile, she lifted her food to her mouth.
Colin slathered butter on a chunk of bread and took a bite, wondering how his father would take the news that forty pounds of the horse money had been spent to purchase a bond servant they didn’t need. Then he realized his father was the least of his worries. The biggest challenge ahead was how to get Mariah into the house past his mother. A slow smirk tickled his lips. Of course, he could rent her a room across the river in Georgetown. Digging into his slice of shepherd’s pie, he glanced up at the stunningly beautiful, but rather prim, young lady across from him. No. No matter how much she’d flirted with him from upon the auction block, she’d actually stiffened whenever he’d moved too close to her during their ride here. No doubt she’d balk at the very idea of being his mistress…delicious though the notion might be.
He had no other choice. He had to take her home with him to the plantation. Taking a sip of cider, he mulled over the story he’d concocted for Mariah’s sister, how he’d bought her for his mother. The more he thought about it, the more he surmised that perhaps it was just the ticket.
“Mariah,” he ventured after a few more thought-filled swallows of his drink, “I noticed when you signed your name to the bond that you had lovely penmanship. Did you, by chance, handle any business correspondence for your father?”
She blotted her lips on her napkin. “Why, yes. I did. And because of my handwriting, I also answered the various invitations our family received to social engagements.”
Excellent. “And I’m sure you possess many other accomplishments, as well. The art of stitchery, perhaps.”
A frown creased her smooth brow. “Stitchery. Such a tedious endeavor. I’ll allow I can do it adequately, if I must, but I much prefer playing music for others to stitch by.”
Good. Good. “You play an instrument, then.”
“I play two, in fact. The flute and the harpsichord. I can also play the cello and violin a bit, if need be.”
Even better!
“But alas, Rose sold my flute when she sold my prettiest frocks, as well as forfeited my dowry.” Her lips thinned to an angry line; then with a sigh, she relaxed and mustered a weak smile. “No sense crying over spilt milk, as they say. I must learn to embrace whatever the Good Lord has in store for me.”
Colin reached an empathetic hand across the table to cover hers again. “Be assured I will do all in my power to make your introduction to our fair land as enjoyable as possible.” He had to admit it did sound good and was easy to say. But getting Mariah past his formidable mother and comfortably ensconced in their home would take far more effort and ingenuity…if it were even possible.