Another blow. “You’re leaving Virginia for good?”
“As soon as possible, before that liberty is denied us. All those loyal to the British Crown must return to the mother country or face the consequences of remaining here. There’s even talk our estates will be seized by a new colonial government. If that happens I shall lose everything, so I must act quickly and secure my finances.” His frown eased. “Surely it gives you some comfort to know we’ll all be in Britain together henceforth.”
“Does Loveday know of this?”
He paused as Zipporah’s voice sounded in the foyer. More visitors were arriving with congratulations on their nuptials and a happy Christmas.
Reaching out, Father squeezed her cold hand before standing. “I want you to tell her. I’m sure she’ll rejoice that you’re not to be parted.”
For that alone I can be thankful.
24
We steal if we touch tomorrow. It is God’s.
Henry Ward Beecher
The townhouse was blessedly quiet. Father and Zipporah had gone to the governor’s palace for some sort of seasonal fête. In the kitchen the servants were all abuzz with last-minute preparations for Christmas Day, and a hundred different fragrances threaded through the townhouse. But Juliet’s usual joy in the season’s details was benumbed.
Telling her sister about their change in fortune—and future—was not something she’d envisioned doing on Christmas Eve. To cushion the news, Juliet did what she could to help set the scene. A fire made brighter with pine knots. A dozen fragrant bayberry candles shining like starlight in each parlor window. Hot cocoa and biscuits. Even another light snow fell in windswept flakes beyond the windowpanes.
“A cozy evening for just us two. I could ask for nothing better,” Loveday said with a smile as she sank down atop aChippendale chair. “Though I can’t imagine why you look so glum.”
Juliet tried to smile but couldn’t. Time to be done with dissembling and subterfuge. “Actually, Father asked me to tell you his news ... which has a direct bearing on us both.”
A maid served the fragrant hot chocolate, setting the tray before the fire so that the silver pot and porcelain cups shone.
“Why, you’re shaking. So unlike you.” Loveday looked alarmed, taking the cup from Juliet’s unsteady hand. “Please tell me everything at once.”
Juliet tried to quiet her whirling thoughts. Where to begin? “First, Father is to sell everything.”
“What?” Loveday’s arched brows nearly reached her hairline.
“In his words, he is done with debt. He fears there’s to be a war and Royal Vale will be confiscated by the new American government as loyalist property in the near future.”
“Our home? The only home we’ve ever known?”
“To circumvent that, he’s selling all his holdings in the colonies and the Caribbean. Royal Vale will become Mr. Buchanan’s, and he has agreed to settle Father’s vast debts on one condition.” Despite her roiling insides, Juliet paused to take a steadying sip of chocolate. “That he marry me.”
Loveday set her cup down so hard it rattled. “You?”
“Somewhat ironic, isn’t it, given I’ve been foisting him upon you, as he so succinctly put it?”
For once, Loveday was speechless.
“Remember the miniatures painted by Copley and how odd we thought it that we never saw them again? I assumed Father carried them on his person, but instead he sent them to Scotland by way of his factor with a proposition to Mr. Buchanan.”
“To marry one of us? To choose between us?” Loveday stared at her uncomprehendingly. “And he chose ... you.”
“Perhaps Father isn’t telling us the entirety of it.” Juliet lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Perhaps he emphasized I am the eldest and that had some bearing on Mr. Buchanan’s decision.”
“You’ve always thought so little of yourself and been dismissive of your many merits.”
“And you’ve always been so very gracious. We shan’t be parted, thankfully. Father intends for us all to sail to Scotland and to make a marriage for you there.”
“Scotland, a place we’ve never been.”
“Mr. Buchanan’s younger brother is in need of a wife, which makes me wonder if Father doesn’t have that in mind too.”
