“Pardon?”
He raised his head. “You said you didn’t want to speak of it,” he repeated. “Sweet Jesus, Shannon, you could have put me out of my misery a fortnight ago.” His eyes narrowed. “What happened that you decided to marry me then?” he asked suspiciously.
“I saw how gentle you were with Michaeline and Paul when it was time for them to leave, and how much you cared that they would visit Clara. It mattered so deeply to them that they would not be severed from Clara’s life, and in spite of your fears that they might learn she is not your daughter, you encouraged them to know her.” She slipped her hand from his and stroked his forearm with her fingertips. “I just knew then,” she said, not quite understanding it herself, “that I wanted you to be my husband.”
“And your fears?”
“I’m not afraid anymore.”
“Oh God, Shannon,” he said feelingly. He kissed her mouth and then lifted his body against hers. “I don’t know how long it will take, but nothing is going to stop me from making you my wife. Nothing!”
Later, Shannon would have cause to wonder at the feverish certainty of his tone.
It was late in September.The weather had been kind, and the oak trees bordering the James were tenaciously clinging to their emerald-green leaves. The folly’s most important crop had been cured and tightly packed in thousands of hogshead barrels, forty-eight inches high, thirty across the head, and rolled to the wharf, where they were loaded on ships bound for England. There were still pumpkins and squash and late summer corn to be harvested, pickling and preserving to be done, but the main work had been completed, and the folly and its inhabitants were lulled into an untroubled existence.
It was into this quiet that Cody’s mount tore across the empty fields, crossing the distance from the far road to the house in record time. Leaping down from his lathered horse, Cody swatted its rump and sent it to the stables where it would be cared for. He negotiated the three steps leading to the folly’s front porch in one stride and threw open the door. Martha was coming down the stairs, but she stopped, hands on her hips, when Cody charged into the house.
“Chile! I don’t know what you think you—”
“Scold me later, Martha,” he said breathlessly. “Where’s Brandon?”
“Now, don’t you be—”
Cody flung open the door to the drawing room, glanced inside, and then yanked it shut. “Where’s Brandon?” he demanded again.
“He’s on the verandah with Miss Clara and—” She threw up her hands as Cody fled down the hallway. “Lord,” she said softly, shaking her head from side to side. “Sometimes I’d like to shake that boy.”
Cody nearly unhinged the door when he threw it open. “Bran! I need to see you!” And when his brother only glanced up from his cards. “Now!”
Brandon gave a start at Cody’s tone. “Alone?” he asked. When Cody nodded impatiently, he folded his hand and slid it in Shannon’s direction. “Excuse me.”
“Of course,” said Shannon, nonplussed by the urgency in Cody’s voice and stance. She felt Clara growing restless in her lap. As Brandon and Cody retreated into the house, she picked up Brandon’s cards and fanned them open in front of Clara. “Oh, look, we could have won!”
Brandon followed Cody into the library, shutting the door behind him. “What’s this about, Cody?” he asked brusquely.
Cody turned on his brother, running a hand through his windblown hair. “She’s coming, Bran. I wanted to warn you, give you time to prepare Shannon and Clara.”
Brandon had no need to ask who “she” was. “All right,” he said, forcing calm. “Where did you hear this? Who told you?”
“No one told me,” Cody said. “Isawher! I was riding along the bank a few miles downriver from here when I saw her at the rail of theIsidore.She’s coming here, Bran. I know it! Damn her eyes! I swear if I had my musket, I’d have fired.”
“Cody! Enough.” His smile held bitter humor. “You should have not persuaded me to let you stay away from William and Mary.”
Cody’s blue eyes widened. “How can you make light now?”
“How can I not? There will be little enough humor once theIsidoredocks.” He grimaced. “How much time do we have?”
“About twenty minutes.”
Brandon’s forehead creased in concentration. “All right. Go to the wharf and meet her. Have Jemmy and Tom take her baggage. I’ll tell Martha to ready her room, then I’ll prepare Clara and Shannon.” As Cody started to leave, Brandon reached for him, placing a hand on his arm. “Is he with her? Did you see Parker?”
“I didn’t see him.”
“I won’t have him here, Cody,” Brandon said. “I want you to know that because he’s your brother, too. If he steps foot on this land, I’ll put the barrel of my rifle against his gut.”
“I’ll load it for you,” Cody said on his way out the door.
Brandon found Martha in the kitchen and quickly explained the problem to her. “I don’t know how long she’ll be staying,” he said when Martha began shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “Go on.” He gave her stiff shoulders a little push toward the hallway. “And Martha,” he added, “lock the door between our rooms and give me the key.”
