Bundling up in her warmest wraps, bonnet, and boots, Juliet cleared her head by taking a long walk about the grounds of Royal Vale. The frozen ground was slick, as slick as their circumstances. One wrong move could cost them dearly, both in terms of their cellar guests and her and Loveday’s future.
Why had she been so caustic with Mr. Buchanan? Had her humiliation of him lent to his illness? Was she partly to blame for his current state? The possibility gave her no peace. She’d behaved abominably. Even Aunt Damarus would call her frightfully unladylike. Not to mention her outright rebellion against Father’s wishes.
She continued on in silent melancholy, the wide river before her a shiny pewter beneath cannonball clouds. Even in midwinter the land held a deep, unshakable beauty. How blessed they’d been to walk where generations of Renicks and Catesbys had walked. Yet Father was willing to let it go to someone else entirely, a stranger with no ties whatsoever.
But Father wasn’t a Renick. He’d merely assumed ownership of the land once he wed their mother. Juliet sighed. What would Mama think of this sudden turn of events? Would Father have dared to sell her family home in her lifetime?
Juliet turned round and looked hard at the house itself. A place was made of more than the bricks that built it. Those within were what mattered most. They loved and laughed, talked and dreamed, disagreed on occasion, and grieved. Though Royal Vale had lost its heart since Mama had died, it was still their home, the only home they’d ever known.
Was it wrong to be so attached to brick and mortar? Might she not make a home elsewhere, with other people, even on a distant shore? With the last man she’d ever consider?
Her earthly father had made his wishes plain. She looked skyward, more pensive than ever.
What would her Father in heaven have her do?
29
Our country is that spot to which our heart is bound.
Voltaire
With more determination than he’d ever mustered, Leith left the Williamsburg townhouse. Ravenal accompanied him in the coach, a gut-wrenching ride of thirteen miles that spilled them onto York Town’s sunny, teeming harbor in sight of the ship that would take him home.
Home.
How little consideration he’d given to the word in the past. Now, with fierce longing, he craved the familiar plainstanes at the foot of King William’s statue in the square ... the sunrise over the Clyde ... the blast of the six o’clock mail gun announcing the post-horse from Edinburgh with the newspapers. He needed to smell the ink and leather of his office and hear the tap of his Malacca cane across the marble floor of the exchange. He wanted to meet his fellow lords at the Saracen’s Head and have a meridian while discussing market prices and cargo.
But a fathomless ocean lay between him and what hewanted. He stood by, wishing he had his cane to help keep him upright in the bitter, gusting wind while Ravenal helped him manage his trunks and papers. For once Leith regretted he had no manservant to help him.
Ravenal clasped him firmly by the hand. “You’ll write when you land.”
Leith nodded, too worn for much speech. “I canna thank you enough for your many kindnesses.”
“I’ll pray for your continued recovery.” Ravenal’s eyes reflected serious concern. “I wouldn’t agree to your going unless you’d convinced me a ship’s surgeon was aboard.”
“There’s also a parson,” Leith replied wryly. Ignoring the rattle in his chest, he kept his breathing shallow to refrain from coughing. “And a newly outfitted honeymoon suite.”
Ravenal winced. “Let us get you aboard, then.”
The next hour was a tumult of trunks and gangplanks and companionways till Leith was finally aboard theGlasgow Lass, more than ready to leave Virginia and its bitter memories behind.
Juliet had saturated the coming night in prayer. Surely that would protect them. The weather was clement if cold. Dawn would bring a hard frost. Staying away from the quarters was her goal, especially if Riggs had a spy there. She chose the little-used path from the side of the house that crossed the main road leading to Williamsburg and eventually York.
With Loveday standing watch in the unlit cupola for a half hour before their leaving, Juliet helped ready the fugitives, providing warm clothing and sturdy shoes for travel, the baby bundled securely to her mother in a linen, fur-lined sling.
Silent, Juliet led the way without a single light, letting the moon suffice. The wintry January ground seemed toseep past her thick leather soles and freeze her stockinged feet. Enveloped in her black mourning cape and hood, she blended in with the night and had taken pains to make sure the fugitives were darkly clad as well.
They reached the old oak that had stood since Rose-n-Vale’s founding more than a century before and marked the farthest edge of the plantation. The trees were thicker here, providing cover as they crept forward, the stirring of an animal causing them to pause now and then. When they came to the road that led east, Juliet considered both directions as it snaked out of sight.
Few Virginians traveled by night in winter. Even the owls were silent, busy roosting in the coldest weather. When Mary gave a mewling cry, they all halted, and Juliet sensed the parents’ panic.
Lord, have mercy. Please grant us safety.
They crossed the road and kept east, still on Catesby land. Mary cried again then quieted as they skirted an open meadow with a pond at its heart, shiny as a shilling in the moonlight. For a moment the beauty stilled the tumult inside Juliet as they pressed on toward the safety of Ravenal land. She wouldn’t go beyond the boundary stone of Royal Vale. The fugitives must make their way alone. ’Twas always a moment brimming with hope yet blackened with dread. She’d get no sleep this night, nor would they.
She tripped over a root, righted herself, then looked behind to make sure they were following. When she turned back around, she saw not the empty path but the black, motionless silhouette of a horse and rider.
Lord, nay.
