Thorns in Eden and the Everlasting Mountains (4 page)

Tread
bravely upon the path chosen for you.

Nearing
one bedchamber, she heard the patter of feet. The door opened and a shaft of
light crossed the floor near her. Wide blue eyes stared at her with happy
curiosity.

“Are
you Becah? I’m Hugh.” The child announced his name with a proud lift of his
chin.

Rebecah
bent down. “Yes, I’m Rebecah.”

“We
are cousins?”

“Yes,
and I hope we’ll be friends.” 

“Only
if you know how to play soldiers and will read to me. My sisters don’t.” He
frowned a moment. “I know how to fish, too, and catch dragonflies.”

“I’m
impressed. You are young to know such things.” She caressed Hugh’s head, and he
smiled.

“Where
are your brothers and sisters?” He looked past her. “Where are your mother and
father?”

“I
haven’t any brothers or sisters, and my parents are in Heaven.”

He
screwed up his face and fumbled with the doorknob. “I could be your brother.”

“I
would be pleased.” Touched by his innocence, she kissed his cheek.

March’s
shadow fell over the boy like a dark cloud. She tapped the toe of her shoe on
the hard floor. Hugh lost his smile and the bright gleam in his eyes vanished. Rebecah
drew him close, wanting to protect him.

March
glanced at her. A challenge flashed in her eyes. “Master Hugh, get to bed at
once, before the rod lies upon you.”

A
curl fell over his teary eyes and he dashed it aside. “It is cold in my room.”

“Have
you that dog in there?”

Hugh
meekly nodded.

“You
know your father’s rule. Send the beast out.”

With
a regretful swing of his hand, Hugh’s forlorn greyhound trotted out the door
and down the stairs. Rebecah saw the anger in the boy’s eyes, sadness caused by
more than the loss of his dog.

Crouching,
she met his eyes with a warm smile. “Perhaps in the morning you and I can play
catch with your dog.”

At
once, a proud gleam returned. “I’ve seen her catch rats.”

“She
is a good hunter?”

“Yes,
and I know where there’s a badger’s den.”

“I
would like to see it.”

Hugh
squared his shoulders. “Someday I’ll be master of Endfield, and have lots of
dogs and they will go everywhere with me.”  He stepped away. The door clicked
shut.

 “The
hour grows late.” March moved on and Rebecah followed the gaunt figure down the
long corridor. She took out her key ring and opened a door. After drawing the
draperies shut, she left the bedchamber without a word.

 “Lord,
forgive me for judging her, but March hasn’t a kind bone in her body.” Margery
drew off her shoes and set them in front of the fire.

“I
do not fear her.” Rebecah warmed her hands.

Margery
unpacked with agitation. A pool of tears glazed her eyes and rolled down her
cheeks. Grieved to see her troubled, Rebecah put her arms around her servant’s
shoulders. “Do not worry. I will speak to Uncle Samuel.”

Margery
shook her head. “Whatever he decides, we must accept.”

Rebecah
brushed a tear from Margery’s cheek. “He will see my way.”

The
door drifted in, and blonde ringlets appeared. “Dear cousin. Welcome to
Endfield. I’m Lavinia.”

Lavinia’s
eyes were ocean-blue and her face looked like porcelain. Were they really
cousins? The difference between them was striking.

She
grasped Rebecah’s hands. “You’ve no idea how glad I am you have come to us.”

“You
are kind to say so. But I feel like an intruder.”

“You mustn’t. We will be good friends.”
“And your sister?”

 “Dorene is a
spoiled, vain creature.”

 “I
met her once when we were children.”

Lavinia
pouted. “Is it not sad we were kept apart? I shall never understand why. Are
you going downstairs as soon as my father arrives home?”

“I
am.” Rebecah reached over and took a bit of cake from the tray the maid brought
in and tasted it.

Lavinia
touched the lace on the edge of one of Rebecah’s dresses. “Wear something else
when you do. No one in the family is permitted to wear black or gray, except
for March, only because it suits her, the old crow.”

Margery
spoke up. “Miss Rebecah has lost her father. No one mourns at Endfield?”

Lavinia
frowned. “Of course we do.”

Rebecah
looked for something else to wear. “I had intended to shed my mourning clothes.
Will these please him?” She held up the sleeves of two gowns.

Lavinia
eyed the folds of silk. “Wear that one. I will see you in the morning. Sleep
well.”

When
she had gone, Rebecah began to undress.

“First,
I’m commanded to Endfield. Then I am told I no longer have a say in what
happens to you, Margery. Next I’m told by my cousin what I can and cannot
wear.” She sighed. “I don’t like it, and fear my independence will get me into
trouble.”

“Be
obedient. Less trouble.”

“I
mean no disrespect. I’ll grieve in my heart, silently all to myself.”

“You
don’t mean to wear that dress, do you?” Margery scoffed at the dark blue silk
Rebecah held against her.

“It
is the best I have. First impressions, you know.”

A
knock fell upon the door.

Her
uncle had summoned Rebecah downstairs.

 Rebecah
waited alone in the library. The walls, covered in an unusual shade of green,
were bare except for one painting of a rolling countryside. She admired the
trees, the sun-streaked sky, and the shepherd with his flock of sheep. Birds
circled above a willow and a lone steer stood beyond a split-rail fence. 

The
library was magnificent compared to her late father’s. Purple velvet curtains
hung over the windows. High-backed chairs and a Turkish carpet embraced near the
hearth. The fire crackled and seethed, mingled with the tap of rain against the
window.

On
one wall were shelves filled with books. Rebecah’s eyes skimmed over the
meticulous rows. There were classics and a variety of rare volumes. She noted
the books on Latin and Greek, the historian Josephus and Homer. Bound in
leather were works of Shakespeare, Dryden, Swift, and Defoe. She would not lack
for something to read. 

She
felt the heat of the fire caress her skin and she turned to it. Upon the rug
lay the greyhound, whose sad eyes looked her way. The dog stood, stretched, and
wagged its tail.

“Hello,
girl.” She ran her hand over the dog’s sleek fur. It nuzzled closer, and then
moved away. A shadow fell across the floor.

“Her
name is Jess.” Brent’s smooth, refined voice startled her. “She’s a good dog
with a gentle nature.”

He stood
tall and broad shouldered, handsome. But his eyes were severe. He wore a coat
of dark brown with matching breeches and hunting boots. An air of haughtiness
marred his face. His dark hair, tied with a broad black ribbon, had gray at his
temples.

“Uncle
Samuel.” She lowered her head and curtseyed. 

“You
had a tiresome journey, I hear.”

“Yes,
Uncle.” She raised her eyes.

“Well,
you may go to bed when we finish talking.” He moved near the fire and poured
himself a brandy. He took a swallow, and paused to study her face. “Come here,
Rebecah. Let me look at how you’ve grown.”

She
did as he commanded. She noticed his hands were large, his fingers long,
touched by fringes of lace from his cuffs. He took her chin in hand and turned
her face from side to side. She did not like his touch.

“You
favor your mother.” His tone disturbed her. “She was graced with beauty and
fire. Have you fire, Rebecah? Can you keep the jackals at bay?”

She
looked away. “I don’t understand your meaning.”

“I
speak of men. My daughters are lovely, but you are far superior in looks. Your
voice is appealing, and I think the inner anger that rages within a man may be
tamed by your soft inflection.”

Rebecah
lowered her eyes at his forward words.

“Your
father was anxious for you to marry a rich man with a good family name. But
that’s all I can say Lanley has in his favor.”  

He
motioned for her to sit, and she went to the chair across from him. She had
hoped he would not bring this up.

He
looked at the amber liquid in his glass. “Look how the light plays within this,
how it moves with a twitch of my hand. Women are the same. Sweet, yet they can
burn…I received a letter from Lanley yesterday. He’ll pay us a visit soon after
his return to England. He’s anxious to see you again—anxious to marry.”

“But
I am not.” She hoped he’d agree. But by the stern expression on his face, her
expectations were dashed.

Brent
raised one eyebrow. “You think by waiting you will find true love?”

“If
there is such a thing, would it not be worth waiting for?”

“What
you seek does not exist.” He sipped his brandy. “You resent what I said about
your mother?”

She
saw pain in his eyes at the mention of her mother. What had Sarah Brent meant
to him? “Why should I resent any compliment you pay her?”

“Why
indeed?” He set his empty glass aside. “I’m sure you know your father and I
were not on the best of terms.”

“Even
so, blood is thicker than water.”

Brent
laughed. “What does it matter? Richard is dead.”

Rebecah
stared into the fire. Her uncle’s words stirred her grief. The image of her
father’s last moments rose in her mind and she felt the sting of death again.

Her
uncle called Jess over to him. He stroked the dog’s ears. “Now that my brother lies
cold in his tomb beside his wife, he thrusts you upon me.”

Dread
flooded Rebecah. So this is what her uncle thought of her?

He
sees me as a burden.
What have
I done to deserve it?

Determined
to endure this first meeting with her uncle, she rallied her courage. “If I am
a burden, Uncle, allow me to return to Ashburne.”

“That
would be wrong. You are my niece.” He moved the ring on his left hand with his
thumb. “What talents have you?”

“I
play the spinet, though ill I believe. I draw and ride well.”

“Your
cousins enjoy riding. Your aunt did at one time. But after a fall last summer,
she shows no interest.”

“When
will I meet her?”

“I’m
afraid she has retired with a headache.” Jess nuzzled his hand and he slipped
his finger beneath her collar and rubbed her neck. “You’ll meet her in the
morning.”

“She
shall meet me now, Samuel.”

Lady
Kathryn entered the room dressed in apricot colored silk. Her long hair fell
across one shoulder. Light from the fire reflected upon her skin. The perfect
oval of her face matched the large eyes of deepest brown and her well-formed
lips. Rebecah felt the tenseness ease with her aunt near, especially when she
stretched out her hands in welcome. They embraced and Lady Kathryn kissed her
cheek.

“What
a pity you have come to us under these circumstances, Rebecah. I’m sorry for
your loss. Does your room please you?”

“Very
much so. Thank you, Aunt.”

“Good.
If there is anything you need, you must tell me.”

 Rebecah
paused to take in a long breath. Now was the time to speak about Margery.
“There is one thing…”

“Yes?”

“I
would like to retain Margery Holmes. Please don’t send her back to Ashburne.
She has been with me all my life.”

A
look of displeasure rose on her uncle’s face. “Out of the question.”

Lady
Kathryn stepped forward. “Let her stay, at least until Rebecah grows accustomed
to us.”

He
stood and his shadow fell over Lady Kathryn’s face. “Richard may have indulged
her, Kate. I cannot. Do our daughters have private servants? To have another
would be a waste of money. Rebecah will make do with what we have.”

“Perhaps
Margery could assist our girls too, Samuel.”

“We’ve
enough servants.”

“I’ll
be happy to pay the woman’s wages.”

“I’ll
not have my lady pay a servant out of her purse.”

Wishing
she had held her tongue, Rebecah clasped her hands together and lowered her
eyes. Her uncle’s lashing out at Lady Kathryn was her fault. “Forgive me. I
spoke out of turn. I should go.”

“You’ll
leave when I say,” Brent told her.

Rebecah
dropped her hands to her sides. She realized to let him see she feared him
showed weakness. With her resolve growing stronger, she met her uncle’s eyes. “Then
we have more to discuss, Uncle?”

“No,
the discussion is over.” 

“Samuel.”
Lady Kathryn took a step forward. “We could make this one allowance, for a
short time. It isn’t much to ask.”

He
stiffened and Jess whined. “The answer is no, Kate.”

“My
love, I have never questioned you before, but…”

“Do
not start now.” With a sigh he lowered himself into his chair and shut his eyes.

“I’m
sorry,” Rebecah said. “It was selfish of me. I should not have asked. You’ve
done so much for me already. Please do not think me ungrateful.”

 “Well,
at least you admit when you are wrong, Rebecah. I accept your apology.”

She
looked at him without reply. Out of duty and respect she’d obey him. It struck
her. Samuel Brent had made up his mind not to love her. Eaten with bitterness,
blind and hardhearted, would he ever change? She would have to endure living
with him for a time, but he would not be a permanent part of her life.

Lady
Kathryn squeezed her hand. “Go to bed now, Rebecah. Sleep well.”

Rebecah
leaned forward and kissed her aunt’s cheek, then in a soft voice, “Good night,
Uncle.” Then she strode from the room.

Upstairs
in her room, a fire blazed in the hearth and lit the room in a sepia glow. Her
empty trunk sat on the floor near the bed. She closed the door and noticed the
absence of a key.