Chapter 8
Magnus was gratified by how impressed his grandsons looked as he recited the healing qualities of the herbs they’d just planted. He smiled at Jacob and Daniel – one boy with his fair hair, the other with his blue eyes – and with a little grunt got back to his feet, limping over to sit beside them on the rustic bench.
“Are you a physician?” Jacob asked.
“No, not as such. I work with plants.”
“A healer.” Daniel nodded.
“Yes, I suppose I am, at least when it comes to the plant part.”
Jacob shifted on his seat and threw Magnus a dubious look. “Are you a Christian healer?”
Magnus was taken aback. “Why do you ask?”
Jacob hunched together, muttering that everyone knew that some healers were in pact with Satan and witchcraft was a mighty evil that had to be fought diligently.
“Witches don’t exist.” Well, with the exception of his own dear departed wife, his Mercedes.
Both boys stared at him with an expression of disbelief.
Magnus cleared his throat and infused his voice with as much authority as he could muster. “People who believe in witches are people who have limited education and hold superstitious beliefs.”
“Your grandda’s right – to a point,” Matthew said from behind them. He came over and stood looking down at them, his eyes guarded whenever they met Magnus’. “Most of those condemned to die for witchcraft are innocent of anything other but being different, and it’s only by examining the evidence with an open mind that a correct judgement can be made. Unfortunately, often superstition rules – not common sense. Now, you have chores to do, and then your mama said something about cake.”
Daniel shone up and leapt to his feet, followed by a somewhat less enthusiastic Jacob.
“They work quite a lot for boys their age.” Magnus loaded his voice with an element of reproof. The boys were already halfway to the stables, racing each other down the slope.
“All farm lads do – especially now, during the harvest.”
“They’re quite bright, even if uneducated.”
Matthew frowned at him. “Uneducated? They know their Bible well enough, they know of lands and people far away, they all know their letters and how to cipher, and all the lads write passably.”
“But still, much less than they would know had they gone to school – real school,” Magnus said, ignoring the warning lights in Matthew’s eyes.
“They’re taught as well as we can. Alex and I raise our children to be God-fearing and industrious, and that is no bad thing, is it?”
“God-fearing?” Magnus made a disparaging sound. “Is that the same as narrow-minded? Like believing some people actually consort with the devil?”
“Nay, it’s not. But it is acknowledging his greatness and understanding our own insignificance. I assume you agree with that, being Christian.”
“Christian?” Magnus laughed. “Nominally, I suppose I am. But do I believe in God? I don’t think so.”
Matthew studied him from under a furrowed brow. “In my home you won’t voice such doubts. I’ll not condone it, aye?” He held Magnus’ eyes, and after some moments Magnus nodded.
“Good.” Matthew helped Magnus up onto his feet, handed him his crutches, and set off in the direction of the forest.
“If you see Ian, tell him I’m looking for him,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m at the barley field.”
*
“Touchy, touchy,” Magnus grumbled to Alex a bit later, having recounted the incident. Alex sat down beside him, clasping her hands round her mug of chamomile tea.
“Maybe it’s you coming over high and mighty. It’s quite rude to insinuate that Matthew is narrow-minded.”
“I did no such thing!”
“You think? As you tell it, you more or less laughed at his faith. Our faith,” she added, irritated by the supercilious look on his face.
“Your faith?” Magnus broke out in loud laughter. “Come off it, Alex,” he said once he had calmed down. “You’re not sitting here telling me you’ve developed a belief in God, are you? What happened to my super-rational daughter?”
She gave him a cold look, stood up and moved away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Alex, you can’t believe all that stuff.”
“I can’t? How would you know? You have no idea what my life has been like these last fourteen years or what events have shaped me, do you?” She looked out into the yard where Ruth and Sarah were playing a game of tag, and then turned to face her father. “In this life, God is a constant. Sometimes He’s all we have. So when I say our faith, that’s exactly what I mean: our faith. I may not be quite as much of a Bible reader as Matthew, and there are aspects of his beliefs I don’t agree with, but I’ve learnt the hard way to put my trust in God and hope He’ll keep me and mine safe. And so far He has.”
She fell silent, remembering those awful months ten years and more in the past when she prayed and prayed to God to keep her abducted husband alive, and how she’d known, all the time, that her prayers were being heard and answered.
“You’ve really changed,” Magnus said, breaking into her reverie.
She swept together the crumbs on the table and threw them into the hearth.
“Of course I’ve changed! It’s called adapting to your circumstances, and if you don’t do that you die. Survival of the fittest and all that...” She gave him a direct look. “And I resent your comments regarding our children’s education. We do as well as we can, striving to ensure they all have as good a start as we can give them. In this day and age, education is a prerogative of the higher classes, and that we are not. We’re farmers, and we can’t afford to keep a tutor to educate our children, nor would there be one to find – not in this little corner of the world.” She collected plates and mugs and set them to soak in the battered pewter basin, pouring hot water from the kettle over them.
“Fiona!” She set the empty kettle down on the hearth. “Fiona!” No reply and Alex made an irritated noise. Where was she? She’d been gone for hours, and this was not a day off, definitely not.
“Daniel will be sent off soon enough anyway.” She sighed, returning to her discussion with Magnus.
“Sent off?”
“Matthew wants him to be a minister, so he’ll be sent to study elsewhere when he’s around ten or twelve.” To Massachusetts, which to Alex was like sending her boy to a different country, to live among people she knew absolutely nothing about.
“And what does Daniel think about all this?” Magnus asked with a disapproving edge.
“Daniel will do as his father bids him. I just hope he finds some happiness along the way.”
“And Mark? Jacob?”
“Mark is needed here, on the land. Matthew will ensure there’s enough land to support two or three of his sons. And Jacob, well for now he’s also needed here, but Matthew has spoken of apprenticing him down in Providence.”
Jacob was the one with the real aptitude for books, and just the other day Alex had found Matthew deep in thought, his eyes staring straight through Jacob, who was busy reading at the little desk. Mayhap a lawyer, Matthew had confided to Alex, who agreed.
“How can you let him take all these decisions?” Magnus looked at her as if he had no idea who this strange woman might be.
“How?” Alex rolled her eyes at him. “They’re his to take. The children are his, not mine; he has sole say in what they do or don’t do. Don’t get me wrong; Matthew and I discuss this, and he does take my opinion into consideration. But ultimately it’s he that decides.” She flashed him a look. “I’m not a pushover, and I’m fortunate to have a husband who sets great value on my advice. But legally I’m without rights. I don’t exist as a separate entity; I’m only an extension of Matthew. Fun, isn’t it? Especially for a girl raised after Women’s Lib...”
“Then why did you stay here?” Magnus said. “Why didn’t you take the opportunity to go back with Isaac?”
“Yeah, that would really have made things easy, wouldn’t it? Isaac torn between me and John; John torn between Diane and me.” Alex shook her head. “I couldn’t. Not once since I met Matthew has there been any doubt in my mind that I belong with him. It would shred me to pieces to be without him.” She averted her eyes from his condescending look and moved over to the door. “Where the hell is she?” she muttered. “It’s time to start supper and the cows have to be milked...” She yanked her straw hat off its hook and pressed it down on her head. “Will you keep an eye on the kids? If Matthew asks, I’m off looking for Fiona – in the direction of the Waltons.”
*
It was a relief to escape the kitchen and the strained conversation with Magnus. In her head, she’d held long debates with her father throughout the years, but Magnus in reality was very different from how he was in her head. And it didn’t help that Matthew and Magnus had not exactly taken to each other.
Belatedly, it struck her that it might not be the best of ideas to rush off alone and unarmed in search of Fiona, but by now she was well on her way and reluctant to turn back. She exhaled and picked up her pace, keeping just off the trail.
“Fiona?” Kristin said. “No, I haven’t seen her. Did you send her here?”
“No, but she’s been gone most afternoon, and...err...well, I think she’s somewhat taken with your brother.”
“My brother?” Kristin repeated, bringing her fair brows together into a frown. “How do you mean: taken with my brother?”
“She fancies him which, given how good-looking he is, isn’t exactly strange, is it?”
Kristin’s freckles stood stark against her paling skin. “He has a betrothed, so your maid must look elsewhere.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her, but it would probably have better effect if he told her that – instead of kissing her in the woods.”
“Kissing her?
Nej, ni ljuger
!”
“Lie? Why would I lie? Well, seeing as she isn’t here, I’ll just go and look somewhere else, shall I?” Alex inclined her head in a quick greeting at Henry, who appeared from the stables, smiled down at little Johan and set off down the track.
“If I see her I’ll send her home,” Kristin called after her.
“Do that!” Alex replied without turning her head. “And if she isn’t home before me, I might actually be tempted to belt her,” she muttered.
On the way back, Alex slipped off the path to relieve herself behind a bush. As she sat crouched, she heard the unmistakable sounds of a man and woman making love, and a quick peek revealed Fiona and Lars in a compromising situation further in under the trees. Alex ducked back down and made her way back to the trail as quietly as possible. So Lars was betrothed elsewhere, hey? Alex snickered and increased her pace.
She heard Matthew before she saw him and came to a halt. Why was he standing in the forest telling someone off like that? Then she recognised Ian’s voice, and when she rounded the sycamore that indicated she was now entering Graham land, she found them face to face on the trail, both of them with knotted fists and lowered heads, staring off like rutting bucks.
“Where have you been?” Matthew barked at the sight of her. “Have I not told you not to venture out on your own in the forest? And—”
“Later, okay?” Alex held up her hand. “What’s the matter?”
“What?” Matthew’s voice creaked. “Ask him.”
“Fine,” Alex said. “I will. What is it, Ian?”
“What is it?” Matthew interrupted before Ian got a word out. “I’ll tell you what it is. I did as you said and went to speak to my son about Jenny, on account of you not being certain the lad wished to marry the lass, comely though she may be.”
“And I don’t!” Ian replied. “I told you so.”
“Aye, you did, blathering on about how you didn’t love her, and how you wanted it to be like it is with us, with Alex and myself.”
“Is that wrong?” Ian asked. “Don’t you want that for me?”
“Of course it isn’t wrong, Ian. That’s why your father went to talk to you in the first place, to ensure that you were comfortable with marrying Jenny before he signed anything with Mr Leslie. And now we know: you don’t want to marry Jenny.”
“Hah!” Matthew snorted. “But that isn’t all. You see, the lad has found the lass he wishes to wed.”
“He has?” Alex sorted through the very short list of girls Ian’s age in the district and came up with a blank. Unless... She narrowed her eyes at him, recalling several recent incidents when Ian had showed up in some disarray.
“Aye, I have.” Ian’s chin came up in a defiant expression. “And she loves me.”
“Well, that’s good.” Alex placed a restraining hand on Matthew’s sleeve. “So, who is it?”
“Fiona,” Ian mumbled, dropping his eyes to the sun-dappled ground.
“Fiona?” Alex succeeded in sounding more surprised than she was. She was going to flay that young woman. How dare she seduce a boy of seventeen!
“And have you known you love her for long?” she asked, maintaining a level tone.
“Some months.” Ian eyed her warily.
“Ah,” Alex said. “Have you bedded her?”
“Alex!” Matthew hissed. “Of course he hasn’t!”
“He hasn’t?” Alex sank her eyes into Ian. “Have you?”
Ian squirmed under their combined eyes. “Aye.”
“When?” Alex tightened her grip on Matthew’s arm to the point that he actually uttered a muted ‘ow’. But at least he understood and held his tongue.
“When what?” Ian hedged.
“When was the first time you slept with her?” Alex said.
Ian was a mortified red, the blush mottling his neck, his face, his ears. “Sometime in April.”
“And have there been many times since?”
No, he told her, not more than a couple but it had been enough to know she was the woman for him. He threw her a challenging look, and Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Poor boy...
“Any time recently?” Alex asked.
Ian shook his head. “Not since the day Magnus landed in yon thicket.” No, because since then Fiona had been sneaking off towards Forest Spring whenever she could.
“You can’t marry her,” Alex said. “She’s well over seven years your senior, and has at the most rudimentary education and skills.”
“I love her!” Ian said. “And you said that you didn’t want us forced into marriage against our will.”
“No one is going to force you into marriage, not us, and definitely not Fiona.” Alex could see she’d struck a raw nerve. “What has she told you? That she’s pregnant?”