The Flame and the Flower (38 page)

She smiled with pleasure and did not fear now having to face his friends.

As the landau rumbled to a halt before the church, those persons still remaining outside turned to watch the Birminghams descend from their carriage. Jeff stepped down first, then Brandon, and as he turned to assist his young wife, all eyes were glued to the door in curiosity. Heather appeared and a murmur ran through the crowd. A few sneers and derogatory remarks came from the still-single maidens and their mothers, and from the men a complimentary silence. Bonneted heads came hurriedly together as the women whispered back and forth and grins broke wide on male faces.

Jeff smiled in amusement. "I do believe our lovely lady has drawn everyone's attention," he commented to his brother.

Brandon glanced around and noticed as he did so several people turn rapidly away in embarrassment at having been caught gaping. The corner of his mouth lifted as he offered Heather his arm and those persons he passed on the way into church he nodded a greeting to and touched his hat.

Just inside, a matronly woman stood rudely gawking as her daughter peered over her shoulder at the new arrivals. Their attention was centered upon Heather, as they looked her up and down with anything but a friendly interest. The mother possessed broad, heavy hips and narrow shoulders and in other than dress and length of hair, she bore no resemblance to the gentler sex whatsoever. Her daughter was taller than she and fairly well proportioned, but her heavy-boned face with slightly protruding teeth spoiled the effect. Her skin was pale with freckles spattering it and her mousy brown hair was almost hidden under a rather ridiculous bonnet. Weak, grayish blue eyes were framed by steel-rimmed spectacles and she stared at Heather from behind their lenses. Both women's gazes slid to her rounded stomach and in the daughter's it could be said an envious glint shown. Brandon doffed his hat and acknowledged first the older then the younger woman.

"Mrs. Scott. Miss Sybil. Rather chilly day, isn't it?"

The mother smiled stiffly and the daughter blushed and giggled and stuttered a reply.

"Yes. Yes, it surely is."

Brandon passed them by and escorted Heather down the aisle toward the family pew near the front. The people already seated turned to look and smile a greeting. He stood aside with Heather at their pew to allow Jeff to enter first, and then they too took their places. The two tall, broad shouldered men flanked her slight figure, and as Brandon helped her off with her coat, Jeff leaned near her and spoke in a hushed whisper.

"You just had the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Scott, the water buffalo and her shy calf, Sybil," he smiled. "The girl has been sweet on your husband for a long time and the mother, seeing the advantages of having a rich son-in-law, has done everything in her power to get them together. She has been disturbed because Bran has always ignored her darling. At the moment, I'd wager they're staring a hole through your back. There are several other young maidens doing the same thing. You'd best sharpen your claws for the ordeal of meeting the rejected after church. They're not a happy group, but quite numerous."

She smiled her thanks for his warning and turned to gaze up at Brandon. He bent his head near as she leaned toward him.

"You didn't tell me you had more than one fiancée," she murmured, finding it maddening to think there might have been other women besides Louisa. "Which of these fine ladies here should I steer clear of? Is Sybil likely to lose control of herself? She looks to be a strong girl. I'd hate to find myself under attack by her, or perhaps by some other young girl here."

Brandon's narrowing eyes shifted to his brother but Jeff just grinned and shrugged.

"I assure you, madam," he whispered irritably. "I have never crawled into bed with any of these ladies. They are not of my desiring. As for Sybil, you're hardly the one to be calling her a girl since she's ten years your senior."

Sitting several pews behind them, Sybil and her mother watched the Birmingham couple together and were none too pleased when the young woman smiled at her husband and picked a small piece of lint from his otherwise immaculate coat and smoothed it familiarly. They seemed to all appearances to be a most loving couple.

When the services were over, the Birminghams passed through the doorway and greeting the minister, paused for a moment as Brandon introduced Heather to him, then continued down the steps. Jeff was hailed by a group of young couples who were apparently friends of his and excused himself to join them. Shortly afterward, several men approached Brandon as he made to give Heather his arm.

"You're a good judge of horseflesh, Brandon," one of them said with a grin. "How about coming over here and settling an argument."

Two men took an arm each and dragged him away and having no other choice, Brandon laughed over his shoulder.

"I'll be back in a moment, sweet."

They took him to one side and when they were out of sight of the minister, Heather saw one of the men produce a small, brown jug from beneath his coattails. She smiled a little to herself as they passed it to Brandon and clapped him heartily upon the back. She was doubtful now that there were any great problems to be solved.

She stood undecided for a moment, watching groups of women gather about the churchyard, feeling a little lost without a familiar face in sight. Her attention was drawn by a well dressed elderly lady seeking a warm, protected spot in the lee of the church. The woman carried a long parasol which she used more as a cane than as shade. The footman from her carriage placed a chair for her, and she eased herself into it. She saw Heather and gestured imperiously for the young girl to join her. When Heather drew near, the elderly woman tapped the ground directly in front of her with the tip of her parasol.

"Stand here, child, and let me have a look at you," she said sternly.

Heather nervously complied and was subjected to a lengthy scrutiny.

"Well, you are a very pretty young thing. I almost feel jealous," she chuckled. "And you certainly have given the sewing circles much to talk about for weeks to come. If you don't already know, I am Abegail Clark. And what is your name, my dear?"

The old woman's servant brought a blanket and tucked it about her knees as Heather answered.

"Heather, Madam Clark. Heather Birmingham."

The woman sniffed loudly. "I was a madam once, but since my husband died, I prefer to be called Abegail." She continued without giving the girl a chance to reply. "Of course you know that you've destroyed the hopes of all the eligible young ladies here. Brandon was the most pursued young man I know. But I am glad to see he made such a fine choice. He had me worried for a while."

A considerable group of ladies had gathered about them and were listening to the conversation. Jeff made his way through them to Heather's side and placing a comforting arm about her waist, grinned at the seated lady who continued her comments, ignoring his presence.

"And probably now Jeff will inherit the attentions of all these feather-headed girls."

She chuckled to herself over her own wit. Jeff smiled and glanced down at his sister-in-law.

"You'll have to watch out for this old dowager, Heather. She has a tongue as sharp as a saber and the temper of an old bull alligator. In fact, I think she's been known to take off a leg here and there."

"You young dandy. If I were two score younger, you'd be on your knees at my stoop begging for a kind word," Mrs. Clark declared.

Jeff laughed. "Why, Abegail, love, I beg for a kind word now."

The old woman waved his charming words away. "I need no prattling young fop to sweet talk me."

He grinned. "It's plain to see, Abegail, that this bright sun has not warmed your love for me nor dulled your wits."

"Ha!" the old lady chortled. "It's that bright, young thing that stands beside you that has made my day. Your brother has done well for himself and been busy besides." She looked at Heather. "When are you expecting Brandon's child, my dear?"

Feeling every lady's acute interest turned to her now, Heather replied softly, "Around the last of March, Mrs. Clark."

"Humph!" The snort came from Mrs. Scott who had joined the group. "He didn't waste much time with her, that's for sure." She sneered at Heather. "Your husband is well known for his preference for young ladies' beds, but you hardly seem old enough to bear a child."

Mrs. Clark stamped her parasol on the ground. "Be careful, Maranda. Your spite is showing. Just because you couldn't trap him for your Sybil, don't abuse this innocent."

"Of course, it was just a matter of time before someone caught him," Mrs. Scott smirked, glancing around her smugly at the other ladies. "The way he made his rounds, it's a wonder some girl didn't trap him sooner."

Heather felt herself blush but Jeff replied easily with a grin.

"But that was all before he met his wife, Mrs. Scott."

A sly look came in the woman's eyes as she spoke to the younger girl in a loud, clear voice, heavy with insinuation. "Just when did you get married, my dear?"

Mrs. Clark's umbrella chewed up the turf by her feet. "That's no concern of yours, Maranda," she interrupted testily. "And I detest this badgering."

Mrs. Scott ignored the elder and continued in a mincing tone. "But however did you manage to entice him into your bed, my dear? It must have been some simple lure you used. He's certainly shown no hesitancy around here."

"Maranda, have you taken leave of your senses?" Abegail screeched, gripping her umbrella as if it were a club. "Where are your manners?"

Brandon had come around the corner of the church in time to catch this last exchange, and now with angry strides he came to Heather's side and turned an icy stare upon her tormentor. Mrs. Scott's waspish composure became more cautious and she retreated a step.

"There are some young ladies I show great hesitancy toward, madam, as you yourself are well aware," Brandon said coldly.

Mrs. Scott drew herself up stiffly as a titter ran through the group of ladies, but Brandon turned his back, dismissing her, and smiled to Mrs. Clark as he took Heather's hand into the bend of his arm.

"Well, Abegail, you're in the center of the fray as usual."

She chuckled. "You've quite upset the town bringing in an outsider as your wife, Brandon. But you've restored my faith in your common sense. I never did abide your other choice." Her eyes moved to Heather. "But this one—this one I think your mother would have been proud of."

He smiled and gently replied. "Thank you, Abegail. I was afraid you might be jealous."

"Will you sit a while and chat with an old woman?" she asked of him, then grinned a little wickedly. "I'd like to hear how you captured this charming creature."

"Perhaps another time, Abegail," he declined. "The ride home is long and we really must get started."

She smiled and nodded her head as she glanced toward Mrs. Scott. "I quite understand, Brandon. It has been a trifle cold today."

"You haven't graced Harthaven with your presence for quite some time, Abegail," Jeff commented.

She chuckled. "What? And ruin my reputation, too? But now that you two have a woman about to keep you in check," she continued more softly, "I'll feel better about coming."

He bent over her hand and brushed a kiss upon it. "Come out and visit us soon, love. It's quite a different place since Brandon brought her home. Even Hatti approves of this change."

After the Birminghams bade their farewells, Brandon steered Heather through the crowd with Jeff following. As they passed, Mrs. Scott raised her nose disdainfully.

"With all the lovely young ladies here he had to go to England and bring back a Tory as a wife," she sneered.

Jeff grinned and tipped his hat. "Prettiest damned bit of Irish Tory I've ever seen," he said and moved on past her.

As the three neared their carriage, Heather glanced up and saw Sybil Scott seated in that family's carriage, watching them forlornly as they made ready to depart. She looked so dejected, Heather could not help pitying her and even her mother who stood glaring after them, having lost the futile game she had waged. She had gained little and lost face with many. If she had intended to strike revenge by informing her of Brandon's past, it had been a wasted effort because she knew considerably more about her husband than the woman ever hoped to know. From their first meeting she had known he was no saint, so the woman's words had had little effect.

Brandon handed her into the carriage as the two Scott women continued to stare. She sank down in the rear seat and unfolded a lap robe over her knees, holding half up invitingly as her husband climbed in beside her. He glanced up into her eyes in question to her mood, but she smiled gently and slid close against him for warmth. He stared thoughtfully at her gloved hand upon his arm before his gaze lifted to some distant spot outside the window.

A cold north wind played a mournful tune in the tops of the tall Carolina pines and brought a chill in upon the occupants as the carriage rattled along the dry, dusty road beyond the outskirts of the city. Heather snuggled against Brandon under the blanket while Jeff did his best to stay warm alone opposite them. She watched with some amusement as he tried to get some blanket on the cold seat under him, some across his long legs and some to keep his feet warm. He huddled in the corner with his greatcoat pulled about his shoulders and at every bump some corner came loose and had to be readjusted. Finally she slid even more tightly against Brandon, leaving space for Jeff to sit beside her.