Surrender the Wind Page 13

  Lady Anna wiggled in her seat. “Hmm. Well, Mr. Braxton reflects his grandfather's pride. One cannot help but see in his eyes a disdain for us.”

  “That is not true, Mother. Mr. Braxton thinks the best of us. He respects Papa and likes you. He has affection for Thomas and Jane.”

  “That is kind of you to say, Juleah. It relieves my doubt. But I fear to think what will happen when he and Mr. Darden cross paths. They are of two opposing forces.”

  Juleah stared out the window. She hoped with all her heart, Seth and Darden would never meet. It would be disastrous indeed.

  13

  Seedlings shook free from majestic sugar maples and whirled down to earth. Seth rode his horse from the groves nine miles into green moorland. He reined in and saw Wrenhurst nestled in the lush valley below, the poplars casting shadows over a plain of lawn.

  Eager, Seth searched for a child at play, but no person was in sight, at least not until a horse galloped across his path. The rider jerked the reins and his horse skidded to a halt. It reared and beat its hooves forward.

  “Gad, young man! I almost collided with you! Steady that horse. Who are you and what are you doing on my land?”

  “Paying Sir Charles a visit, if it is of any business of yours, sir. My apologies, that I startled your horse.”

  “You are a bold rider. You should be more careful. You are not a highwayman I hope.”

  “I’m Seth Braxton of Ten Width.”

  The man's face deepened into a frown. “Ten Width, you say? I suppose you’ve come to Wrenhurst for reasons other than a social call.”

  “I’ve come to speak with Sir Charles. Is he at home, do you know?”

  The man shot Seth a proud look. “I am Sir Charles.”

  Seth steadied Jupiter and tightened the reins around his fist. “I’ll not impose on you long, Sir Charles. But it is urgent we speak.”

  “Speak to me here and be quick.”

  “Do you have a rule of not allowing strangers by the name of Braxton to enter your house?”

  “The name Braxton does have a certain aversion when I hear it. Besides, by your speech, I’d say you were no Braxton. What is a colonial doing here in England?”

  Seth drew himself up. “My grandfather was Benjamin Braxton.”

  Sir Charles raised his brows. “Ah, I see. Well, I am not so ill-mannered not to extend my condolences on the deaths of your grandfather and sister. Caroline was my son's wife, as you may know.”

  Seth's brows pinched together. “My sister is alive and well. What made you think she had died?”

  Shocked, Sir Charles's eyes widened. “I was told as much in a letter I received. You mean the fever did not take her?”

  “You were deceived. Did you not receive word concerning your grandson?”

  “I received no word of him.”

  “I’m surprised, sir, that you did not make inquiry into the welfare of your grandchild. What did you think happened to him with his mother supposedly dead?”

  Sir Charles squinted his eyes. “I think, Mr. Braxton, we should go to the house and discuss this.”

  He turned his horse and Seth followed. Before him rose the grand house at the end of the drive. Not a spot of decay, not a brick out of place, the house had an atmosphere of perfection. A groom met Sir Charles to take his horse, while Seth dismounted and looked up at the bulwarks and the wide mullioned windows.

  The door swung open and a servant stepped out and stood outside it. “We are not to be disturbed,” Sir Charles said to her. With her eyes lowered, she gave Sir Charles a quick curtsey.

  Heading into his study, Sir Charles waved Seth inside and shut the door. His gray hair had once been dark and the wrinkles beside his eyes showed his maturity. His tailored dress and scrubbed appearance were of no surprise, for he was a rich man.

  “I’ll get straight to the point,” Seth began. “My sister was sick as you were told, with an infectious fever. Upon the advice of her physician, your grandson was removed from the house and given into the care of a nursemaid.”

  The muscles in Sir Charles's face twitched. “And where were you when this occurred?”

  “Making my way to Ten Width. An earlier arrival might have prevented what followed. Do you know a woman by the name of Shanks?”

  “I do not recall ever hearing that name. Why?”

  “Caroline was told her son perished in Hetty Shanks's care. I arrived and found her wasting away with grief.”

  Sir Charles's eyes shifted from Seth's to the floor. “That would be distressful indeed. I am no stranger to grief.”

  “Then you’ll understand the circumstances I’m about to unfold.”

  Lifting his eyes, Sir Charles's expression became one of anxious inquiry. “I am listening.”

  “I caught Hetty Shanks sneaking through the woods beside the church near Ten Width. She confessed she was paid for her silence, for the lie she told. She declared young Nathaniel is alive, and before I could get out of her where he might have been taken, she slipped from my grasp when my sister collapsed in my arms.”

  Sir Charles clasped his hands together and turned to stare out the window. “I cannot hide what is true. It would be cruel. The boy is indeed alive.”

  Elated, and relieved his search had ended here, Seth stepped forward. “Then he is with you?”

  Sir Charles looked at Seth, aggrieved. “Yes. I assure you he has been well cared for.”

  Seth nodded. Indeed Hetty had lied about the boy being snatched out of her hands. It was she who brought him to Wrenhurst. But why?

  Seth frowned. “You’d best tell me now, sir, what role you played in this.”

  “I had no knowledge of this conspiracy. Dare you question my role in anything?”

  “Was it your idea to take the boy from his mother?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Had you thought this was the way to injure my sister?”

  His face flushed, and Sir Charles stepped away stiffly from the window. “What stupendous impertinence. I tell you, I had nothing to do with it.”

  “You were satisfied that the events told to you were true?”

  “I was.”

  “Did you contact the authorities to make inquiry?”

  “I had no reason to doubt the woman. She appeared honest enough. She gave me a letter penned in a feminine hand, signed by your sister. No doubt, it was a forgery. The letter entrusted Nathaniel to me and rightly, seeing I am his grandfather. I never would have thought anyone would bring him here under false pretenses.”

  Sir Charles lowered himself into a winged chair and ran his hands over his face. “I remember that woman standing in my hallway, her cloak dripping with rain, a look of false sincerity on her face. She had come in a covered farmer's wagon. I remember scrutinizing its driver, a robust, mean-looking fellow … perhaps her man, but I cannot say for sure.”

  “Yes, she mentioned him, said he was a servant, that he carried a dead child to the church for her. They lied and told the caretaker it was Nathaniel they had brought to be buried.”

  Sir Charles's face turned ashen. “This woman, you called her Shanks … she spoke to me in a sugary tone, extended her sympathies, and told me I must do my duty. She had the gall to put out her hand, that greedy palm covered in an old glove. I paid her for her troubles. God will pay her for her sins.”

  “At least she had enough heart to deliver the boy to you, Sir Charles. Others meant to harm the child … possibly end his young life.”

  Sir Charles shook his head and balled his fists. “You mean someone would have gone to such lengths as to murder an innocent child, my little lad that never harmed a thing?”

  Seth looked into his elder's strained face. “It is hard to conceive.”

  With an oath, Sir Charles stood from the chair. “They do not deserve to draw breath!”

  “Indeed not. God willing, they will be brought to justice.”

  “We’ve been played the fools. My wife was present when this took place. You may ask her
if it will settle your mind and make you think better of me.”

  “I shall not trouble her. I believe you.”

  “Well that you did, for we must sort this thing out together. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” Seth extended his hand and Sir Charles grasped it. “May I see him?”

  “Certainly, but I will not give him over. Not until you bring Caroline to Wrenhurst. I must hear her story from her lips and see her face-to-face.”

  “We both are cautious men, Sir Charles. I assure you, I am whom I claim to be.”

  “If you were in my place, would you give over your grandson to a stranger?”

  Seth took no offense. “No, I would not, sir.”

  With a troubled gait, Sir Charles paced. “Caroline and I have a breach between us. Yet, what we have in common seals that breach. She gave me a grandchild, an heir. It appears I have made a muddle of things by not inquiring about her. I am sorry.”

  Sir Charles gazed down into the garden at the side of his house. His stern face softened, and the lines near his eyes deepened. “Nathaniel is in the garden playing with his nurse.”

  Seth leaned forward and looked out. On the lawn tumbled a curly-headed child. A spaniel puppy romped alongside him. Though his stockings were torn across one knee and smeared with mud, he had the appearance in his blue velvet jacket and breeches, of a young heir. The nursemaid tried her best to keep him from racing about, but her efforts were futile. She kept her hands stretched out, as if wanting to catch the boy. He listened, stood, and threw a ball to the pup.

  When Seth's eyes met his nephew's, the boy moved toward the safety of the woman. An inquisitive look swept across his face, and he raised a plump hand. The gesture shot an arrow straight into the heart of Seth Braxton.

  “He looks every inch his father,” Sir Charles said. “Except his hair is the color of Caroline's, and his eyes are as wide and green as hers. He has been a comfort to me having lost my son. She will let me see him from time to time, will she not?”

  “Caroline knows what a grandfather can mean.”

  Sir Charles nodded, his eyes filled, and Seth watched him swallow his emotions.

  “I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear she is alive,” said Sir Charles. “Surely, for her to hear her son lives was tremendous—a miracle, in a word.”

  Seth shifted on his feet. “Words cannot describe it, Sir Charles.”

  Sir Charles paused to think. “We must discover who the other conspirators are. Hetty Shanks is not the mastermind behind this.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’d say you should go to the constable about this, have the woman arrested. But Latterbuck is useless. He’ll say it is a misunderstanding.”

  Seth walked from the window to the doorway and donned his hat. “I have heard of this man. It would do no good for the moment to involve him, not until I have solid evidence. I’ll return with Caroline in the morning.”

  Under a sky filled with bands of gray, Seth left Wrenhurst touched to the heart. He lifted his eyes to heaven, thankful he had found Nathaniel, healthy and whole.

  Sir Charles watched from his study window. His reflection showed a man struck a blow of a most devastating nature; his features sunk into an expression of complete despair. He could not be so self-controlled at that moment and not be touched with sadness; of releasing his grandson to a daughter-in-law he had not accepted. Yet, a sudden pity for this girl filled him, along with a strong sense of respect for her brother. Seth would bring Caroline to Wrenhurst, and Sir Charles would hear with his own ears the truth and see with his own eyes she lived. He’d know, without any room for doubt, this cruel plot had deceived him.

  “Criminals all! I pray to God I see the perpetrators swing from the end of a rope.” He slammed his fist hard against the window frame. Hetty Shanks and her expression of pity for the child sickened him. But at least she had brought Nathaniel to him, like Seth had said, in order to spare the boy a cruel end. Perhaps she thought the seclusion of Wrenhurst would buy her time to get away before the truth was told.

  Still he cursed her and the persons who had planned such treachery.

  14

  Juleah slipped outside and paused to gaze up at the twilight sky. She drew in the scent of lilacs, watched purple blossoms drift onto the cobblestone walk. The orchard, through which she hurried, cast shadows along the ground. The horse chestnut trees quivered with the slightest breeze. She ran her hand over a trunk and ducked her head beneath the boughs.

  Once she reached the bank of the pond, she slipped off her shoes and sat upon the cool grass. For a long while she watched swallows dip and circle above. She picked up a stone, threw it into the water, and watched the bands of ripples it made. The cattails quivered, and she brushed away a tear that slipped down her cheek.

  She had to admit she was in love with Seth.

  With her head thrown back, she gazed into the fathomless heavens. The warm night, the water, the purple sky above her beckoned. She pulled off her frock and stockings. In her chemise, she stepped into the water. She dipped her fingers along the surface, waded a ways out, turned, and bent her head until her hair was soaked. The soothing sensation caused her to shut her eyes. She moved her arms to and fro to feel the ripples against her and the soft mud that squished between her toes.

  She spoke her heart to the One who had given her all this beauty and prayed that Seth would ask her the question that other men had longed for her to answer.

  On a hillside that overlooked the pond, Seth reined in Jupiter. Below, Juleah moved in the water with her back to him. The water reached her hips. Her hair caught the light and fell against her skin. The sight of her caused his heart to rear up. He enjoyed seeing her soaking wet, how her chemise clung to the curves of her body. Curling the reins tight around his fist, he wondered if it were wrong to admire a beautiful woman in this manner.

  She stepped up, lifted the hem of her chemise above her calves and reached the shore. She picked up her frock, slipped it over her head, and smoothed it down. Her slim delicate fingers gathered up her hair. She squeezed the water from it, and pushed it back.

  He rode toward her.

  Jupiter shook his mane, and the bridle gear jingled. Startled, Juleah turned.

  “Are you lost, Mr. Braxton?”

  Seth drew off his hat. “I thought this way might be quicker. You’re soaking wet.”

  She gave him a tilt of her head. “I … slipped in.”

  He dismounted, drew off his coat to place it over her shoulders. “You must be more careful.”

  “When I said I slipped in, I meant I had gone into the water.” She leaned over, searched for her shoes. A lock of her hair brushed against her mouth when the breeze blew. Juleah lifted her hand and pulled it away, which sent something electric through Seth.

  “I’ve come to tell you good news. Caroline's son did not succumb to a fever as you were told. He is alive.”

  Juleah dropped her shoes; her hand covered her mouth to stifle a cry. “Alive?”

  Seth smiled and laughed. “Yes, alive.”

  “How can that be? How do you know this?” Her eyes revealed wild astonishment. “I do not understand. I was told …”

  “Listen and I’ll explain,” Seth said. “I’ve been to Wrenhurst, and when I told Sir Charles the details of all that has happened he showed me the boy.”

  Numb with shock, Juleah shook he head. Seth could see she struggled to take this in.

  “How did Sir Charles come by Nathaniel? Is this his doing?”

  “No. Hetty Shanks took him to Wrenhurst and told Sir Charles that Nathaniel was now orphaned. She gave him a letter he believed was from Caroline bequeathing Nathaniel into his care. Naturally, he took the child. His one mistake—he failed to investigate whether what Hetty Shanks had told him was true.”

  For a moment, Juleah stared at Seth. Filled with excitement, a rush of eager questions poured out of her. He answered each one in turn, told her all he could, about his suspicion from the start, how he had suppr
essed it thinking he was in the wrong for doubting, believing that no one would ever lie about such a matter. What he omitted to say was who he thought was behind this cruelty.

  “Sir Charles should have ridden to Ten Width and seen for himself,” Juleah said. “But I suppose if he believed the letter was genuine, he would not have done more. He did not doubt you?”

  “He was astounded, but willing to listen,” Seth told her. “I’m taking Caroline to Wrenhurst tomorrow.”

  Juleah laid her head against his forearm. “Tomorrow cannot come quickly enough.”

  “I would be pleased if you’d come along.”

  She leaned up on her tiptoes, held Seth by the shoulders, looked at him with eyes bright. “Indeed I will. It is a miracle.”

  “Perhaps your father would allow me to escort you to Ten Width tonight.” He gazed down into those beaming eyes and hoped some of her joy concerned him.

  “Perhaps.” She paused, removed her hands, and stepped back.

  “Caroline will be pleased, and that way we can leave early without delay.”

  “Would you be pleased?”

  “Yes, you know I would.”

  Shadows deepened. The breeze rushed through the cattails and lifted the ends of Juleah's hair. “I must get back.” She stepped up the path. “I have to tell everyone what has happened.”

  Restraint broke as he looked again into her joyful eyes. He moved closer and took her by the shoulders. “Do you not love me as I love you?”

  A breath slipped from her lips. “Do you not know, Seth? Do you not see?”

  Seth drew her into his arms and brushed his lips over hers. She melted against him. “You’ll not run away again?” he asked softly.

  Her eyes softened. “No. Not again.”

  “I wish to speak to your father.” Running his hand through her hair, he brought it forward over her shoulder. “It's important.”

  An even softer expression washed over Juleah's face. “Every evening he walks up on the ridge.”