As the conversation ebbed and flowed, Selah kept a discreet eye on McCaskey and Nurse Lineboro playing a game of loo at a corner table. Was she still meeting secretly with Helion Laurent?
The factor, brash and less than genteel, was quite a contrast to the physic’s carefully honed artifice. And the nurse? Selah reckoned someone so dour had no romantic designs, but appearances were deceptive. Something told her at least one of the trio knew Watseka’s whereabouts and were wiser than the rest of them about so paramount a matter. The certainty prickled the hair on her bare neck.
As the clock struck nine, Izella served nuts and fruit and replenished their cups. At Selah’s bidding, a maid went upstairs to ready their rooms. Shay would sleep in Oceanus’s bedchamber till the boy came home.
Ifhe came home.
Was Xander on tenterhooks at the thought? Had he told Meihtawk about Watseka? Her new husband was not a man used to being thwarted. Though his endurance was one of the qualities she most admired about him, these repeated searches took a toll. He uttered no complaint, but Selah sensed his own hopes slowly eroding as he grappled with the repercussions of a peace child gone. Soon he must tell the Powhatans.
She returned her attention to Shay, trying to put off any dour thoughts and simply relish having her beloved brother within arm’s reach. At the moment, he was clearly enjoying being the center of their attention.
“I have no great desire to move to Hopewell Hundred just yet. Not till I come of age.” Shay’s gaze traveled from his mother to Xander. “I can be of more use to you here, surely, with all that is to be done to prepare for next year’s harvest.”
“We’ll start by having you hunt through the rubble for nails to reuse,” Xander told him. “My blacksmith has fallen behind, making so many new ones.”
Shay nodded. “I’ll put my hand to anything to help Rose-n-Vale rise again.”
Such talk was heartening, bringing the eventful day to an end. As the clock struck ten, Nurse Lineboro was the first to bid them good night. McCaskey’s gaze followed her as she left the parlor, a smug expression on his face.
Who could decipher the gist of his thoughts?
Dawn found Selah wide awake, her feet touching the floor even before Xander, a notoriously early riser. She laced herself into stays and donned the oldest of her gowns, a faded red India cotton, and an apron. No longer did she need help. She tiptoed to her dower chest, opened it, and retrieved a coif embroidered with wildflowers and strawberries in gilt thread. Carefully closing the lid lest she wake Xander, she startled as strong arms enfolded her from behind, nearly lifting her off her feet.
“Good morning, my bride.” He embraced her, nuzzling her neck and making her laugh at the tickle of his whiskers. “You’ve no dressing table yet. No looking glass. How can you pin up your hair?”
She sank onto a stool as he took up her hairbrush. Unbound,her hair cascaded onto the floor. Such a mass kept her warm on bitter winter nights but in summer wound round her and felt suffocating.
“Pure gold.” Xander ran the brush through the length of it, teasing out every tangle. “I’ve ne’er brushed a woman’s hair. Yours carries the scent of the garden.”
“Mother’s concoction. Rosemary water and mint.” Smiling, she closed her eyes, patient beneath his hands. He plaited her hair, forming a sort of crown by entwining the braids.
She felt atop her head. “My coif will be towering!”
“Like the queen you are. Where are the pins to hold it in place?”
She pointed to his washstand. He gathered up the pins and returned to finish what he’d started. All thumbs he was, but persevering. She smiled at the do-or-die look on his face. And bit her lip when the pins poked her scalp. Finally done, he stood back and admired her. Flushing, she looked about for her shoes, but he found them first, even kneeling and placing them on her feet.
Touched by his attentiveness, she looked to her wedding band. “Time shall tell I love thee well.”
He stood, seeming unusually pensive. “Is there any doubt?”
“Nay, no longer. I am the most blessed of brides—”
“Nephew?” An abrupt banging on the door ended the intimate moment.
Xander crossed the room to admit his aunt, her face a stew of displeasure. “My apologies for barging in so. But Nurse Lineboro has gone. Up and fled during the night with no explanation!”
Xander took in the outburst in stony silence while Selah felt little but relief.
“Has she not simply gone out?” he asked.
“Nay. Her belongings—and some of ours—have gone with her. She’s robbed a pair of silver candlesticks and a snuffer and who knows what else!”
Selah moved toward the hall to find her mother coming down the stairs. Leaving Xander to handle matters regarding the nurse, they went in to breakfast. Shay was still abed, the dining room empty. But Izella was already at work, given the jugs of cream and molasses and a heaping platter of corncakes at table’s center.
“I suppose there shall be one less guest at breakfast.” Candace sat, looking far less perturbed than Xander’s aunt. “I don’t quite know what to make of it.”
“Nor do I.” Selah took her usual place. “I long for a time of ... boredom.”
