Read Wellington Cross (Wellington Cross Series) Online
Authors: Cheryl Lane
He kissed the top of my head then and left me with my thoughts.
That evening, we had leftovers of turkey sandwiches and some
pie. I was in the kitchen cleaning up, having told Catherine to stay put
and spend time with my brother. I heard a noise just outside the kitchen
door. I looked out the window, and in the gathering darkness, was
surprised to see a figure of a man, sneaking about, looking all around
him. He even came up to the same window that I was looking out of.
I gasped and quickly moved to the side flat against the wall, in hopes he
didn’t see me. The sun had just gone down, so it was too dark to tell who
it was. There were only two lanterns lit to see by as well as the fire in
the cooking fireplace.
Suddenly, I heard the noise of a doorknob being turned, and I
quickly got under the long cooking table. I didn’t know why I was
frightened, but I felt very uneasy, like I was in danger. A few long
moments later, I felt a hand touch my back. I jumped and cried out,
hitting the top of my head on the table.
“What are you doing under there?” I heard William ask.
Relief filled me.
I climbed out from under the table, rubbing my head.
“Are you all right? I’m sorry if I startled you.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Were you just now outside the kitchen, looking
around out there?” I pointed out the window where I had seen the figure.
“No, I came from this door.” He motioned behind him.
“I haven’t been on that side of the kitchen. Why?”
“Some man was just outside, sneaking around and peeking in the
windows.”
He went on alert. He looked out the window where I had
pointed. “Come back to the manor with me, where you’ll be safe,” he
commanded.
I grabbed one of the oil lanterns and walked across the darkening
courtyard, holding onto his arm tightly. Once we reached the manor, I
waited in the parlor while William got a shotgun and headed out the
carriage-front door.
He came back a short time later, saying he couldn’t find
anyone. It was a strange thing, and I began to wonder who it was.
It’s possible it could have been Ethan, but that was doubtful. He hadn’t
snuck around this plantation since the war when the Yankees were here.
Could it have been Jefferson? He did know where I lived, so it was
possible. How I wish he’d leave me alone. I was grateful to have
William as a protector. He was every bit as brave as Ethan.
A week later, on December 4, there was a celebration of the “First
Thanksgiving” at Wellington Cross. It commemorated the time when some of
the first English settlers came to this land from England in the 1600s.
When they stepped foot on land, they thanked God for their safe journey.
This was celebrated with all the local plantation owners, farmers, and others
living nearby with a big festival down by the river.
The five of us arrived together at the busy plantation. We
headed to the riverfront area where tents were set up, and people were
talking. This festival was held outdoors, and thankfully, the weather
cooperated, being chilly but nonetheless dry. There were hand puppet
shows and colonial games for the children, and adults were taught various folk
dances. There was also a fair amount of matchmaking going on between the
younger adults, with the girls giggling and the boys showing off their various
skills. The food was set up inside in the dining room, which most people
took outside to eat on borrowed china. The table was filled with turkey,
Virginia ham, fresh fish, oysters, candied yams, various squash, and cabbages.
The desserts included pumpkin pies, pecan pies and Catherine and I made
an apple pie and a Virginia pound cake.
William and I got plates of food on chipped china and took them to
the big open grassy area down the hill near the river
.
It was a long way to go in my condition, but William helped me make it
down. We received many stares and whispered murmurs, which I tried hard
to ignore.
It seemed people were avoiding me. Even Hannah said hello
but then kept on walking. She must have heard about my condition.
We sat down to eat on a blanket William had brought. Catherine, Ginny,
and Jonas joined us shortly. I ate very little, as I did not have much of
an appetite, my stomach once again being too upset. This time it was
because I was nervous about seeing Ethan and telling him about his
father.
There were black musicians playing violins, a banjo, and an
accordion across a small pond on a grassy area directly in front of the river.
Many people were milling about, eating and talking, some sitting like
us. I spotted Ethan and Elizabeth, who were on the dock greeting guests
who arrived by boat. My heart stopped. It had been so long since
I’d seen him. He and Elizabeth were talking with Hannah’s mother and
father. They continued talking, and suddenly Ethan looked over at me, as
I was looking at him. I had not seen him since the harvest ball, when he
left me alone in the woods by the river, the night I told him I was having
William’s baby and that we were betrothed. I regretted telling him
now. The look on his face conveyed all the hurt I had caused him.
He turned his back to me. It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with
me. Yet somehow I had to get him alone so I could tell him about the
dream I’d had and the memory of what I’d found in his father’s study.
Ginny found some of her friends, and they wandered off.
Jonas and Catherine took a walk down by the river, so William and I were left
alone lounging on the blanket, casually talking. I ate some ham and
bread. I felt somewhat more comfortable around William now than I had
before, as we were slowly getting to know one another. He seemed to be
looking out for my best interests and stressed that he expected nothing from
me, so I tried not to worry so much, tried to feel better about the whole
thing.
We talked about each other’s pasts. I found out that William
and his first wife Rachel had a girl named Emily, who was only three months old
when he had to go off to war. He never saw either of them again. He
also told me about his mother and father and his life growing up. They
had both died, his mother of pneumonia, and his father suffered a fatal shot
during the war.
“Do you still miss your family?”
“Every day. I have nightmares sometimes, at times about the
war, other times about my Rachel or Emily.”
“I’m sorry. That must be hard for you.”
He nodded. “I have a dream catcher that’s supposed to help
with that, but sometimes it doesn’t.”
“What’s that?”
“My Cherokee friend taught me how to make them. It looks
like a spider web inside a circle, which is supposed to catch your bad dreams
before they get to you. They’re decorated with feathers and beads and
such.”
“That sounds lovely. I could use one of those.”
“You have nightmares, Madeline?”
“Sometimes, yes.” I didn’t tell him what they were about and
he didn’t ask.
He changed the subject. “What about you? Did you lose
any family during the war?”
“Yes.” I told him about losing my father and mother, burying
them both, and about Jonas losing his beau. I talked about growing up on
the plantation and following Jonas and Ethan around even at a young age.
“You’ve basically loved him your whole life, haven’t you?” he
observed.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“It’s funny how quickly life can change,” he said. It was
true. In the blink of an eye, I had lost my memory, and everything
changed. I lost my husband and my baby. In another blink of the
eye, we had consummated our love and created a new life unexpectedly. And
then once again, things changed quickly when Elizabeth had her accident and was
found to be with child, forcing me to lose Ethan. Life truly did change
quickly sometimes.
We sat quietly for a few moments, and then William pulled out
his harmonica and started playing “Dixie”. I had heard him play on his
harmonica before, usually from the bachelor’s quarters, never inside the
manor.
“How long have you been playing?” I asked him after he stopped
the song.
“I started playing it when I was a boy but dropped it as I got
older until I went off to war. I started playing again to help the time
pass, and it helped keep the other soldiers entertained and their minds off the
war, if only for a short time.”
“You should have entertained us all the night of the big storm.”
“Well, the harmonica had been over in the bachelor’s quarters so
I couldn’t. I suppose I could have trudged through all the rain and wind
for the sake of some entertainment.” He laughed, as did I. “I
thought we did pretty well entertaining ourselves that evening, don’t you?”
I wondered what he meant by that. Could he have known
about Ethan and me kissing that night? Surely not. I simply smiled
and nodded my head. That had indeed been an entertaining night. I’d
probably never get to kiss Ethan again. He probably didn’t miss me
anymore.
William talked more about herbs and natural remedies.
“There’s a balm I could make for you to rub on your abdomen every day to help
prevent stretch marks, if you’d like.”
“That would be very nice. I’d like that.”
“It’s
made with animal fat mixed with lavender and chamomile.”
Clarissa came over with Lillie and we talked for a while, as
William wandered around talking with some acquaintances. He came back
shortly after with another cup of tea for me. That was very thoughtful of
him. Clarissa left Lillie with us for a short while, and William gave her
an Indian head penny to look at and play with. I had to give it back to
William when she tried to stick it in her mouth. He insisted I keep it
for her until she was old enough not to stick it in her mouth.
Clarissa took Lillie back over to her family when some Chickahominy
Indian dancers came out and performed. Jonas and Catherine came back to
watch on the blanket. I was mesmerized, thinking about how much these
people had lost when the first settlers came across the ocean to this new
land. They’d lost their homes, their freedom. I could relate to
them, and I felt tears well up in my eyes. They had lost many things, and
yet still they danced. I knew I would have to do the same. Even
though I was about to do something I was not happy about, and losing my own
freedom, so to speak – the freedom to be with the one I loved – I could still
go on…and dance.
During the performance, I felt eyes on me. I turned and saw
Ethan looking at me, whose eyes lingered on mine before turning back onto the
Indians once again.
The celebration began to dwindle down, and I searched for an
opportunity to talk to Ethan alone. I finally saw it when Elizabeth
walked past us up toward the manor with two friends, chatting amicably. I
told William I needed to talk to Ethan for a moment, and he nodded.
I walked over to Ethan, who was smoking a pipe with his father and
two other nearby plantation owners. I looked at Edward uncomfortably, and
he did the same at me. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Wellington,” I addressed
Ethan formally, politely. “I was wondering if I might have a word with
you in private.”
Ethan looked at me indifferently, expressionless. “Yes, of
course,” he said stiffly, handing his pipe to his father and getting up off the
ground.
We strolled down to the river’s edge where a couple of children
were playing, skipping rocks. It was as secluded a place as I would
get.
“What is it, Madeline?” he asked wearily, almost impatiently,
which made me nervous.
“I…I just wanted to tell you about a dream I had recently, which
made me remember something I had forgotten.”
“Oh? What is it?” he asked, a little more curious now.
I could smell the familiar tobacco on his warm breath, which made me homesick.
How did I proceed? How did I tell Ethan that his father was
a traitor? “Ethan, I think your father was a traitor during the war,” I
blurted out.
“What makes you think that?” He seemed a little surprised
but not shocked.
I told him about the day in the master study and what I had found.
Ethan shifted his feet and looked down at the ground
briefly. “No, you have it wrong. He was a spy for the South during
the war. That’s why he had the Union coat. He kept it as a
keepsake.”
“But what about the telegraphs and communications between him and
Grant? Did you find the one I stuck in the book for you that day?”
“Yes, I saw it. Again, that was part of him being a
spy. He wasn’t a traitor, Madeline. I know my father. He’s a
good man. He helped the South a lot during the war. Remember, he turned
Jeff Banks in.”
I still wasn’t sure if I believed Edward was innocent, but I
figured I would leave it alone for now. At least Ethan was aware of the
Union jacket and papers.
“Is there anything else?” he asked me.
“I…well, I feel I should apologize again for what happened at the
harvest ball.”
He was silent, not looking at me. He simply nodded. I
knew he was still upset with me. Should I tell him the truth, that he was
my baby’s father, as now three people had advised me? Should I tell him
that I had not been with another man besides him? That I had not been
unfaithful to him?