Chapter Eleven

Morning rain awakened Hannah, and her first thoughts were of the terrible words she had spoken to Aaron Clarke. He had assisted her when she had desperately needed a friend, he had sheltered her and given her employment, he had made her a member of his happy family—and she had repaid him with bitterness and insults.

She paced her chamber, weeping until her face was as wet and sad as the roses in the garden below being despoiled by the rain. How could she face him? How could she apologize? He must despise her.

She could think of no alternative but to leave. Crying openly in her misery, she pulled her old valise from a closet and began stuffing her belongings into it. A knock on the door stopped her, and she stood in terror. The knock was repeated.

“Hannah, I’m coming in,” came the voice of Captain Clarke.

Hannah couldn’t speak. She simply stood there as the door opened slowly.

“Are you dressed?” he asked from behind the partially opened door. “If not, pray throw on a dressing gown, for I must speak to you.”

It was necessary now to move, and Hannah seized her blue dressing gown and wrapped it tightly around herself. Aaron entered and his eyes moved quickly from her wet face to the valise spilling dresses haphazardly.

“So you’re running away,” he commented. “I thought as much.”

“I’m leaving, yes.”

“Are you leaving because you’re too angry with me to stay or because you’re afraid I’m angry with you?”

Hannah retrieved a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “I said unforgivable things to you. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to employ me any longer after my behavior last night.”

“We both spoke some rather…unfortunate…words. Would it not be better to apologize than to fly off into the rain with no destination?”

She turned away, silently considering his words.

“And what about Aven and Andrew?” he continued. “Who will teach them and love them as you do? They’ve had one heartbreak, and now they’ll have another.”

“Oh, I don’t want to cause pain to the little boys! But are you certain you still want me to teach them? I’m afraid you must think me unfit for the care of children.”

“Good heavens, Hannah! If everyone were to be judged by the foolishness displayed at a soiree, we would all be damned! Let’s say to each other that we’re sorry and forget the matter.”

“I am sorry, truly sorry,” she whispered with feeling. “You’ve been my constant friend and protector, and I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

He walked closer to her, took her hand, and kissed it. “You owe me nothing,” he said very seriously. “You’ve repaid me a thousand times for anything I’ve done for you. And last night…”

He stopped speaking and paced slowly toward the window. For a few moments, he stared out at the rain.

“Perhaps it will be well to say nothing more.”

She nodded in agreement. He crossed the room and opened the door, and his face as he turned back to her held an expression of resigned weariness that she had never seen in him before.

“I’m going to the harbor. We sail in three weeks’ time, and there’s much to be done.”

Hannah attempted a small smile. “Will I see you at dinner?”

“Yes, goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

The morning passed quietly away. The children had to be amused indoors because of the constant rain. Hannah drew pictures with them and read them stories until early afternoon, when Clara took them upstairs to nap. Feeling a need for fresh air and solitude, Hannah seized an umbrella and set off at a brisk walk across the meadow toward the river.

Her mind was full as she rambled about. One phrase of Captain Clarke’s was haunting her particularly—“naïve little maiden.” She couldn’t deny the truth of his words. She had taken Captain Whetherton’s attentions as flattery instead of what they most likely were: the first stage of a seduction. Any pretty woman would have done for the purpose he had in mind. But that was not the only time she had been ridiculously naïve. She had allowed herself, it now appeared, to be the dupe of the Godders. She had never demanded information from them, had never sought assistance on her own to find out who she was and whence she came. And Lord Earling! She had risked her life in a foolish scheme of running away instead of simply refusing to marry him.

She remembered the words of the magistrate at Pinley House that dreadful morning, and now she scoffed at them. Mr. Godder had no doubt enlisted his aid, and the man had simply lied to her. After the wedding, he would have denied he had ever told her she must marry Lord Earling because she had agreed to the engagement.

She pulled her mind from that area to another of Aaron’s phrases—“just as I thought.” When he had asked her this morning if she were leaving and she had replied in the affirmative, he had said “just as I thought.”

He’d known she would run away. She was a coward who fled from difficulties, and he had perceived that in her. True, he himself had assisted her in England when he found her freezing in a barn, but that was because he had not had time to return her home and make sure she was safe and in good hands. His heart was too kind to turn away from her, so he had made a rash judgment and taken her on board.

Hannah stood at the bank of the river and stared at the rain dotting its surface. Across the river was a graveyard with its gray stones turned black in the dark wet day. There is where we all end eventually. What we make of our lives between birth and death is up to us. I must try harder to be brave and good.

Such thoughts on a gray, rainy day did little to lift her mood, and eventually she turned and wandered back toward the house. Reaching the barn, she saw Corey heading inside and she followed him.

Inside the barn, the atmosphere was far different. It was warm and smelled of fresh hay. Hannah walked along the stalls, greeting all the horses and saving the most attention for Blaze in his box stall at the end of the row. Next to him was one of the farm horses—Belle—a chestnut Clydesdale with a head twice as big as Blaze’s and hooves garnished with great tufts of white hair.

Belle reached her head out of the stall, snuffled at Hannah’s arm, and then turned her attention to Corey as he approached with a pail of grain.

“She’s a hungry girl, is Belle,” Corey cooed. “Good girl, don’t tear Miss Winstead’s dress; only wait ’til I get your oats poured out.”

Corey came out of the stall and stood next to Hannah and together they watched the great beast devour her pail of grain.

“’Twas a charming evening last night, Miss Winstead, eh?”

“Yes, indeed. Thank you for teaching me the harvest fling.”

“Oh, aye, a quick learner you are.”

“An excellent teacher you are.”

There was silence for a few moments as they watched Belle cleaning up the last crumbs of her grain.

“Corey,” Hannah began. “What do you do when you’re afraid?”

Corey looked at her, his face expressing his lack of comprehension of the question.

“I mean, what if you were frightened of someone or something? What would you do?”

He considered. “’Twould depend, rather. If I feared a bloke, I’d make well sure he never found out.”

“What if you were afraid of something happening, something you wanted to prevent but could not and did not even have the right to interfere?”

Corey nodded. “Aye, miss, now I do believe I understand you. ’Twould be wrong of us to discuss a certain gentleman because he is our friend, but I will say this: If a certain gentleman marries a certain lady, he’ll live to be sorry. But my pa says there’s many a foolish lad out there when it comes to the fair sex.”

“But is there nothing one can do to stop such a marriage from taking place?”

“Nothing, for the certain gentleman is his own master. However, I will say one thing…’tis little hope maybe.”

“What is it, Corey?”

“This morning, early, I saw the certain gentleman leave the house by the kitchen door. He was carrying a glass and a bottle of brandy and looked as though he hadn’t ever gone to bed.”

“Brandy! That surprises me!”

“And me, miss. I watched him from the barn, where I come early to see to Baldur’s hoof after his limp of yesterday on the farm. The certain gentleman stalked past the barn, walking like he’d had a tad too much. He headed across the meadow, fortunately away from the river or I would’ve gone after him.”

“He was upset then!”

“I’d say. He came back an hour later with the bottle empty. Appeared he had a little soul-searching to do.”

“Do you suppose, Corey, he might be starting to think better of his attachment to…a certain lady?”

“’Twas something serious to take him off in the rain like that with a bottle in his hand.”

“Indeed,” Hannah replied. She wondered if his early morning ramble was simply his way of controlling his anger against herself, but she didn’t think so.

“I thank you for telling me this, Corey. ’Tis perhaps best if no one else knows of our conversation.”

“Indeed not, miss. I’m as close-mouthed as old Belle here.”

Wishing him good day, Hannah returned to the house. Her heart was made a little lighter, and she was ready to greet the children and give them her full attention until dinnertime.

****

The week following was quiet and uneventful. The weather cleared, and Hannah took the boys on daily summer outings—to the river to wade, into the village to buy a sweet bun at the baker’s, or across town to play with the children of Julia’s cousin Lily while the ladies chatted and did needlework. Occasionally, Miss Compton would join them for a morning.

On more than one occasion, Hannah espied Captain Whetherton, and although he bowed deeply from afar, he made no attempt to speak with her. She easily perceived, with a wry smile at her own naiveté, his attentions to her at the village ball had been a meaningless flirtation.

One morning, as she and Julia were walking through the village with the children, they met Miss Compton and Captain Whetherton together. Pleasantries were exchanged, and then Maria said gaily, “Captain Whetherton and I met by chance in the bookshop. I had hoped he was searching for poetry, but this was not the case.”

“I humbly apologize,” he answered gallantly, “for my execrable taste in books. I was merely looking for the latest volume of marine maps.”

They all laughed and Maria continued, “I berated him so severely that in order to make amends, he was forced to invite me to take tea with him. We are going to the little al fresco café on the shore. Do join us.”

The tone of her voice and the proprietorial air of her grip on Captain Whetherton’s arm opened a new thought to Hannah. Maria obviously held the mistaken belief that she herself was partial to the handsome captain. Maria was trying to display her power over him and make it clear she was the one preferred.

Disgusted by Maria’s attempt to hurt her, Hannah replied, “I do hope you’ll enjoy yourselves. I must get the children home, so pray excuse me.”

She wished Julia good day and hurried the children back to the green, where Blaze dozed next to a granite watering pool. She loaded the children into the cart, squeezed in next to them, and got Blaze into motion. As she passed the café, she saw the others watching her. Julia waved with a friendly smile and Captain Whetherton doffed his cap, but Maria stared at her triumphantly and barely raised her hand in farewell.

Considering the events of the day before, Hannah was very surprised the following morning when Mrs. Carne knocked on her chamber door and announced that Miss Compton had come to call. Hurrying to the parlor, she heard with dismay the coquettish tones of Maria’s voice and the deep answering sounds of Captain Clarke’s.

Maria, dressed in a sleek, dark riding costume and poised gracefully on a window seat, smiled with false graciousness at Hannah’s entrance. Captain Clarke was standing at the hearth, and to Hannah’s quick observation he appeared slightly uneasy.

Maria stepped to Hannah and embraced her briefly as if they were bosom friends. Hannah was not in the dark as to why she had called. Maria’s imaginary friendship with herself was too clearly a ploy to enjoy carte blanche entry into the home of Aaron Clarke.

“You know why I’m here, of course,” Maria said smilingly, directing her words to Hannah.

“You don’t need an excuse to call, certainly,” Hannah replied with as much warmth as she could manage, “but I’m not aware of your specific reason.”

“My dear, you have forgotten your promise so soon? You said you would show me the fine library here at River’s Edge.”

“Oh, so I did. But I meant with Captain Clarke’s permission, of course.”

“Certainly. And since he is most conveniently at hand, he can be my host for this adventure.”

Hannah could see that the lady fully expected the gentleman to take her arm and avail himself of such a wonderful opportunity of showing his house to the woman he loved. Hannah expected it too and was as shocked as Miss Compton when he replied, with an air of some distress, “I beg you to excuse me this morning, Miss Compton. I must go to the harbor to continue with preparations for the departure of the Penelope. We sail in two weeks’ time.”

Maria’s face colored, but she recovered herself quickly. “Very well! I hope at another time I may catch you at a more convenient hour.”

Her words, although hastily composed, were designed to give him an opportunity to set a future engagement, but he only bowed his acquiescence. To Hannah he said, “I’ll not be home for dinner. Will you inform Mrs. Carne?”

“Certainly.”

Without another word, he left the room. Hannah did not know what to make of his behavior. Had his feelings for Miss Compton changed or was he simply uncomfortable displaying them in front of her, knowing how she felt about Maria? Meanwhile, she had a guest to see to, a guest who was angry and disappointed and in no humor to be entertained.

“Miss Compton, I’m so sorry Captain Clarke couldn’t join us. But surely that must not spoil your enjoyment of the library. Come, I’ll attend you there.”

Maria ignored her. She walked back to the window seat and sat down, obviously deep in thought. She looked unsure of what her conduct should be, but finally, sensing Hannah’s curious gaze, she rose again and spoke cheerfully. “Hannah, dear, I would not feel at all comfortable entering Captain Clarke’s library without his express permission. Pray tell him so and that I look forward to seeing it under his tutelage at his earliest convenience.”

“Certainly, as you wish.”

“Will you have your hostler bring my horse? I have other calls to make, so I hope you’ll forgive me for hurrying away.”

Hannah complied and soon had the pleasure of watching Miss Compton mount her bay gelding while Corey held his head. With a slight wave, Maria cantered down the drive, the horse spraying fine gravel from his hooves as he ran.

Hannah kept the boys close to home for the next two weeks, partly to avoid Maria Compton and partly to prevent their catching a croupy cold that was circulating among the village children. The hours flew by and all too quickly came the day for Captain Clarke’s departure on the Penelope to Europe and England. His other two ships, the Mary Grover and the Siren, had sailed weeks earlier. They would travel to Spain carrying bales of corn and barrels of whale oil and would return laden with wines, laces, and olives. The Penelope would pick up fabrics, French wines, and Scottish woolens in her journey and then would harbor in London for a few months so her master might visit his family in Richmond.

Hannah and all the Carnes went early on a warm sultry morning to the harbor to see the Penelope off. The youngest Carne boy was about to embark on his first sea voyage, and there were many tears shed by his sisters. Mrs. Carne refused to weep until she saw him spring cheerfully aboard and suddenly could not help herself. Her husband, smiling broadly to prevent an unmanly display of emotion, waved at his lad and called a final directive that he “work right hard and mind his master.”

Captain Clarke spoke words of farewell to each of them before boarding. Then, with a final wave, he walked across the gangplank. The sailors pulled up the plank, the foresails were raised, and the great ship pulled slowly from her berth. Hannah, as she watched, felt silent tears wet her face.

“Watch over them,” she prayed. “Bring them home safe to us.”