Esmée reached for the saltcellar. “With things as they are, perhaps remaining here on the island seems best.”
Warmth filled Henri’s chest. “Given I’ve been away, the island is idyllic ... and this meal likewise.”
Smiling, Lucy murmured her thanks as she replenished their cups. The clink of utensils against pewter plates and the snap of the fire were the only sounds for several minutes. But it was a jubilant silence, lending to Henri’s profound contentment to be home.
Ned eyed him with amusement. “Is it true Mistress Saltonstall is back on the island and has reopened the Flask and Sword?”
“She returned just yesterday, aye,” Henri confirmed. “Hermes is beside himself.”
“She’s likely at her wit’s end managing a full crew from theIntrepid, with no one wanting shore leave.” Ned regarded him with a canny eye. “You look well, Captain. And what of your men? No maladies on board?”
Henri took another bite of chicken. “None, God be thanked. No scurvy either due to a short cruise.”
“How long were you in port?” Ned persisted.
Long enough to catch the pox.
Was that what Esmée was thinking? He saw the joyous light in her eyes dim.
“Two days,” he replied. “I suffered the pox soon after my impressment in the Royal Navy, if you’re wondering. And it doesn’t strike twice.”
Esmée was regarding him over the rim of her glass with stark relief.
He smiled at her, knowing she’d be pleased at what had delayed him on the mainland. “I’m happy to say my time in York was more pleasure than politics. While there I spoke with stonemasons and ordered materials to begin building within a fortnight.”
“Glad news indeed.” Esmée’s delight washed over him like a warm wave. “Your crew who remained behind have made a sturdy garden wall in your absence. I’ve even begun a small kitchen garden.”
“How long will the house construction take?” Ned asked.
“Excavation of the cellar needs to happen first, then hauling the stone since it’s not quarried here.” Henri took a drink. “The double-pile plan and open staircase will take time, but I hope to see us at home there by winter.”
As the men finished supper and moved nearer the hearth to continue their conversation, Esmée turned her attention to Eliza. The absence of a veil was no small matter. Though heavily powdered to cover the worst of the scarring and far quieter than before, Eliza seemed to have made a breakthrough of some sort.
“You seem better tonight, Sister.” Esmée’s voice was low, hardly heard over the men’s robust conversation. She longed to draw Eliza out but always felt she walked a precarious line. “I’d like to see the Bible Nathaniel gave you. ’Tis kind of him.”
“He said ’twas the least he could do, as Quinn and I were so hospitable to him upon his coming to Williamsburg and assuming his place at Mount Autrey. He’s also indebted to us for introducing him to Quinn’s cousin Elinor. They plan to wed next summer.”
Elinor.Esmée had all but forgotten. The tears in Eliza’s eyes spiked her alarm. Might she be too attached to the sea chaplain?
“I am happy for them.” Eliza paused at the men’s rumble of laughter over some matter. “I asked him what drew him to her as she is so plain. Of course, I did not say she was plain, though I’ve long thought it. And do you know what he told me?”
Held by her sister’s shimmering eyes, Esmée waited.
“He said she has an inner beauty that can never be marred by age or disease, a gentle and quiet spirit of great price in God’s sight. She is radiant to him, he told me.Radiant.And that, unquestionably, is far better than being beautiful.”
“They are well suited, then. Both of them devout.”
Eliza nodded and brought her serviette to her lips. “All this makes me wonder about my future.” Her calm voice belied the emotion beneath. “My outward beauty is gone. I’ve done little to cultivate unfading beauty ... or radiance.”
“’Tis never too late. Spiritual beauty is something we should all aspire to.” Esmée herself was convicted, her thoughts leaping ahead. “Perhaps ’twould be wise to cultivate Elinor’s company once she becomes Mistress Autrey.”
“Perhaps.” Eliza looked at her hand, where the ruby ring Quinn had given her rested. “Given time, will any man want me?”
“The right man will.” The words were out of Esmée’s mouth before she’d given them thought, and they now became a silent prayer.
Eliza’s eyes held doubt. “As for a second husband, the very thought sickens me. For now I need to consider returning to the townhouse and sorting through Quinn’s belongings, his study, and his many papers. He was in some sort of a quandary before he fell ill. Some matter concerning the governor’s council, other burgesses, and such...” Her voice trailed off, and she put a hand to her brow. “I feel a headache coming on.”
Excusing herself, Eliza left the cottage. From where he stood by the hearth, Henri gave Esmée a concerned glance, but her smile offset it.
