The Beloved Land (20 page)

They went to the nursery together to introduce little John to his new nanny. The young woman had arrived in midafternoon the day before, after a long and tiring journey, so after a brief welcome, she had been granted the remainder of the day to rest and get settled in her new quarters near the nursery.

Judith had decided that one would not describe Miss Paige as beautiful, but she had china blue eyes, which looked very large in her small face. And when she dared to smile, her thin features seemed to be lit from within. Judith felt almost motherly toward this tiny waif of a girl.

“She’s but a child herself,” she whispered to Charles after Howards, luggage in hand, had escorted the young woman to her room.

Charles merely nodded, seeming deep in thought.

“I would be tempted to send her right back to London if …” he began but did not finish.

“If?” prompted Judith. “If we were not desperate?”

Charles turned to her, shaking his head. “No, my dear. If
she
was not.”

Judith nodded her understanding. The young woman had no home of her own. No place to go.

“Of course we shall keep her,” she said warmly. “After all, she is an answer to prayer. If she does nothing more than play the pianoforte for John, she will be worth her keep.”

“She is more likely to play
with
him, I am thinking,” Charles quipped.

Judith smiled. “The new nanny is not quite
that
young,” she had said.

Now as the three entered John’s nursery room together, Judith could see that the young woman was nervous and uncertain about this encounter. Judith whispered, “I’m sure the both of you will get on famously,” and she smiled as reassuringly as she could.

“John,” said Charles, and the boy lifted his head from his building blocks. “We have brought someone for you to meet. Would you stand, please?”

John stood. His small hands clasped behind his back and his head dipped shyly. Judith moved forward to place an arm around John’s shoulder. “Remember, we talked about Nurse having to leave?”

He nodded and peeked a glimpse out from under tousled hair.

“This is your new nanny, Mistress Paige. Would you greet her, please?”

Obediently John took a tentative step forward, took another peek at her, and extended a hand. “Good morning, Miss,” he managed to say.

Miss Paige had also stepped forward. Judith saw her hand reach out, and as the two hands met, something extraordinary happened. The young woman’s entire face lit up with her smile, the blue eyes came alive, and the cheeks suddenly flushed with a rosy color. John smiled back at her.

Judith heard a heartfelt, “Oh, I have always wanted a little brother.”

“I’m not very little,” John was quick to say, but his tone was matter-of-fact.

“Of course you’re not. I didn’t mean …” The new nanny was now on her knees, pulling John into her arms. Surprisingly he did not resist.

“Oh, pardon me, ma’am,” she said, quickly standing to her feet, her cheeks crimson.

But John reached out to take her hand. “Do you play the pianoforte?” he asked, looking into her face.

She merely nodded.

“Could I hear it?”

The girl looked at Judith for an answer.

“We shall have some music this evening,” Judith was quick to say. “After our supper.” She turned to Mistress Paige. “I will bring the former nanny in to talk with you. She is gathering her things. She will show you the rooms and give you instructions as to the workings of the nursery. Tea will be served at four. Today you will take it together here by the fire. In the future I will relieve you so you may take your tea with the staff.”

She nodded in understanding and agreement. Judith had a sudden pang at the thought of all this young woman had lost and the rather daunting circumstances she now faced. She felt sure the young girl had never been sent to the kitchen to
tea
with staff in her entire young life.

“Please,” Judith continued, softening her tone, “if anything confuses or troubles you, do not hesitate to speak to me. You are here to care for young John. He is a good child, so your task should not be burdensome. But we … we also wish you to be happy here.”

It was not the speech she had intended. She wondered what Charles was thinking. He had not spoken since they had first entered the room. She felt his hand on her elbow now gently urging her toward the door.

Once in the hall, she dared to look up at him. His face was quite sober. “She is but a child,” he managed, shaking his head.

“But … she is … is a sweet young thing,” Judith put in.

“A child looking after a child,” he said. “It will be you caring for young John.” He nodded toward the nursery. “And the young miss too, I am thinking.”

“I can—”

“Seems I will need to write another letter to London—to get a nanny for the nanny.” But his manner didn’t seem overly concerned, and Judith could not suppress a chuckle. Charles looked at her a moment, then joined in the merriment.

As promised, they all gathered in the front parlor that evening, and Charles carefully—and a bit ceremoniously, Judith thought—removed the covering drape from the instrument. She could not take her gaze from John’s small face. She watched his eyes grow large in wonderment, too awed to even smile. “Can I touch it?” he whispered.

When Charles nodded, the boy moved forward, running a hand over the rich wood, then trailing his fingers lightly over the ivory keys. Charles allowed the boy time to explore, then reached down and lifted him. “I think it is time to listen to some music. Shall we let Mistress Paige play for us?”

John nodded.

Charles took his seat beside Judith, the child still in his arms. He settled John on one knee and nodded to the girl.

At first the notes came a bit haltingly, though John was captivated. He leaned forward, his eyes holding steadily to the movement of her fingers. It was not long before her nervousness was gone, and the slim fingers moved over the keyboard with confidence. Her eyes closed and her body gently swayed with the rhythm. Judith did not recognize the piece, but the music stirred her soul.

Charles too seemed lost in the music. His arms held John, but he leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, head nodding ever so slightly to match the tempo. Judith wondered if the piece was one his mother had played for him as a child.

It ended all too soon. John’s hands clapped together and he cried out, “Do it again.”

Charles stirred then. “Where are our manners?” he chided softly. “We request—not order. Would you like to request that Mistress Paige play another piece?”

“Oh yes. Play another one,” John called, then corrected himself. “Please, would you play another one?” he asked in a quieter tone, but his eyes were still dancing.

Two more pieces were heard before John’s bedtime. He was assured that a concert would be a part of their evenings in the future.

“Please, God, bless Mama and Papa,” he prayed as he knelt by his bedside that night, “and bring them back soon so they can hear the pianoforte too.”

Amen,
echoed in Judith’s heart as she bent to tuck him in.

Chapter 23

Nicole brushed a loose strand of auburn hair back from her cheek and stared down at the large leather-bound book in her lap. Light fell over her shoulder through the cabin’s rear windows onto the page. She read the text again. “Those who go down to the sea in ships, who do business on great waters, they see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. For He commands and raises the stormy wind, which lifts up the waves of the sea.” She raised her head and looked out at the wind lifting up the waves. That imagery was certainly clear enough.

She could hear Gordon’s voice calling instructions to the crew above on the decks, and their feet hurrying hither and yon to carry out his bidding. “He commands” also presented a mental image as she considered her husband’s authority over his men and nature’s obedience to its Creator. “He calms the storm, so that its waves are still” seemed particularly comforting to her heart that morning.

Their way south from the Bay of Cobequid had been sped along by a late-spring storm, to Gordon’s great relief but Nicole’s occasional dismay as the ship heeled far over, then righted itself, only to be repeated as waves pounded its sides. “Then they are glad because they are quiet,” she read aloud. “So He guides them to their desired haven.” She couldn’t help but smile at the welcome sound of the last phrase, and she said it again softly.
A desired haven. That is what I am seeking,
she told herself.

Certainly her marriage to Gordon had brought her a long way toward that haven for her heart. His love and care for her were evidenced in everything he said and did. But the future still loomed uncertainly in the distance. They were now on this mission for the Americans, and it would bring them face-to-face with life-threatening danger. If the Almighty should bring them through unscathed, they would arrive in Louisiana, her childhood home, and to the family of her childhood. Is that where Gordon and she would find their ultimate home, that haven for which she yearned?

“Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men!” she read slowly.
Well, that is something I can do, I will do,
she concluded,
whether or not I know how God will guide us, or the way He will bring us to the haven
.

A knock on the cabin’s door brought her to her feet. “Yes?” she called.

“Begging your pardon, Ma’am,” came the voice through the door. “The captain be requesting your presence on deck.”

“Very well, I will be there shortly,” she told him. She set aside the book, tied her bonnet on her head, and pulled her cloak around her. Above her she heard the sound of feet stomping to attention. Ah yes, it was the Sabbath, and as was custom, the shipboard rhythm was changed for the day. The decks had been scrubbed, frayed lines replaced, sails carefully examined in preparation for the Lord’s Day. She knew some vessels even carried a clergyman or occasionally a surgeon who also was a man of the cloth.

Nicole climbed the stairway and emerged into the sunlight and several rows of seamen, all in their finest togs. Gordon stood before them in his uniform, and he gave her a brief nod as Carter stepped forward to escort her to a bench. After she was seated, Gordon called the men to ease, and they found various places to seat themselves about the deck.

Gordon opened the Bible and began reading from the book of Daniel, the story of the young man sent to his death in a lions’ den but whom God saved to become a prince of Persia. Gordon’s second selection was from the epistle to the Hebrews, and finally he read a Gospel text from Luke. He closed the book, and there was a long silence. Nicole thought he was finished.

“Some of you know hymns written by a pastor from London,” Gordon finally began, “a gentleman named John Newton.” There was a stirring of recognition around her.

“What you may not know is that John Newton once was a sailor like we are.” The murmur across the deck held astonishment. “I have had occasion to study this man’s life, for there is much about the man that both comforts and challenges me. He was of small beginnings, as am I. With little formal education, he served upon a merchant vessel for eight years before His Majesty’s Navy demanded his services. He was press-ganged onto a man-of-war, the
Harwich
. He attempted to escape when the ship berthed at Plymouth, but he was captured and publicly flogged.”

Again there was a rustle among the sailors. Many of them had been press-ganged when this ship was taken, and they still bore the scars of both lash and chain. “When his time was up,” Gordon continued, “he joined another vessel bound for Africa. He took service under a slave dealer. He rose to captain of his own vessel and became known for his unbelief, his rage, his blasphemy, his merciless command of both his seamen and his slaves.”

The men before him were absolutely silent, gripped by the power of the story and the fervor of its delivery. Nicole sat with her hands clasped before her, spellbound by this new facet of her husband’s gifts and leadership of men.

“This slave trader made dozens of crossings from Africa to the Americas with his human cargo. He became renowned on seven seas for his strength, savvy, and wisdom. He was also vicious and spiteful, but utterly courageous and successful. Wealthy and feared, he was counted as a triumph by the entire world.” Gordon gazed out over the railing for a moment, then said, “And then, in the belly of a dark sou’wester, with the storm raging and the heavens splitting, John Newton came face-to-face with his Creator.”

Gordon now looked around the group. “John Newton gave up his success, his ship, his career. He returned to England to begin the study of the Scriptures and of Greek and Hebrew. In 1764 he was ordained and took a church in Olney.” He hesitated a moment, this time glancing quickly at Nicole, then back to the men. “Some of you know of my own dark night of the soul, not in a storm but in British captivity. I was destined to hang as a traitor. I turned to the same Lord as Newton, asking for deliverance of my soul from eternal death. He granted my petition and also delivered me from the hangman’s rope, so that I am able to stand before you and declare my allegiance to God for time and eternity.”