“Tell him I-I’ll be along.”
He’d learned of her absence all too soon. Yet, no matter his argument, she’d refuse to return to Slathersby Hill. She was needed here. To tend to her beloved. To care for Mrs. Lightfoot. To offer aid to Mrs. Nelson.
Steeling herself, Esther kissed Hamilton’s forehead, gently running her finger over the fresh scar on his cheek. “I’ll return quickly, my love.”
At the top of the stairs, she paused, the fetid air in the narrow passage dampening her courage.
Entering the parlor, she did not wait for Father to speak first. “Father, I can explain.”
“Come. Outside.” He handed over her coat and escorted her through the door onto the cramped quarters of the porch. “You traveled alone? Without telling me?”
“You would not have let me come,” Esther said, slipping on her coat, though her skin was warm under her soft, wool gown. “And I did not travel alone. Mrs. Lightfoot accompanied me.”
“An old woman is no protection for one such as yourself. A beautiful girl of means and station. You tempted fate, Esther. The battle may be over, but the roads are peppered with wastrels, disenfranchised soldiers. Who knows what harm may have befallen you?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Safe? Mrs. Lightfoot needed to see him. As did I. I make no apology, Father. He’s lost his leg and will need all of our love and support. Can we not set aside our animosities to find common ground in charity and neighborly love?”
Father paced through the thin light of the windows. “Lost his leg, has he? Now my resolve is all the greater. You cannot marry him. That is what you’re thinking, Esther, is it not? Come on, confess.”
“’Tis what I want.”
“As does he?”
“Yes,” she declared in complete faith. He must love her. He spoke her name in his sleep.
“I will not allow it, Esther. This is not like you to completely disregard my wishes.”
Father’s opposition shook her confidence. Nevertheless, she raised her chin and straightened her tired shoulders.
“Father, why have you come?”
“To bring you home.” He pointed to the carriage, where Isaac and Kitch waited.
“I am sorry to disappoint you, but—”
“You listen to me, Esther Longfellow.” The growl in his voice alarmed her. He rarely, if ever, spoke to her in such a manner. “It was one matter when you loved a Lightfoot with two healthy legs, willing to subject yourself to the rigors of a farmer’s wife in this wild country. But it’s another matter when the man is lame, a cripple. What sort of future will he drag you toward? What chains must you wear, wedded to such a man? Do you not see, my dear? The harshness of his consequence shall be yours. You will be the one tending him, the house, and the fields, ordering about servants and laborers, minding your children, if he could even—”
“Father!”
“Nay, Esther, I did not raise you for such a position. Your mother is right. I was selfish and foolish to keep you in the upcountry for so long. For allowing you to return after debuting in London.”
A long, jagged bolt of lightning slashed the inky night. Then thunder. Muted. Some distance away. An icy cold saturated the wind.
“I would’ve come home to South Carolina with or without your permission. You know Hamilton, Father. It is not in his character to lie about. He will work. We’ll manage together.”
Father’s warm exhale billowed in the January chill. “If he is the man you claim him to be, then he will realize you are bound for greater things than he could ever offer. He will not hold you to any informal pledge or romantic assumptions.”
Hadn’t he done so already? After King’s Mountain. That day at the well. But she refused to let the trials of war taint their love. If he wanted to be rid of her, let him do it in peacetime.
“You surprise me, Father. I considered you a keener judge of character. The loss of a limb does not ensure the loss of the man, nor the loss of love. He may be without his leg, but he is not without his heart and soul. And most assuredly, he is not without me.”
Father roared. “You are your mother’s daughter. Stubborn. Determined.”
“Mother’s? Those words describe you, Father.”
“Do you imagine he will formally propose, seek your hand and my blessing, when he has no means to support you?”
“Give him back Quill Farm.”
