A Promise for Tomorrow (26 page)
Virginia pulled away. “You need to meet my children.”
Margaret smiled. “I would like that very much.”
Virginia motioned to the now silent gathering of children. “Nathaniel. Girls. Come and meet your Grandmother Adams.”
Nathaniel Cabot, at seven and a half, was blond like his father but took the Adams nose and chin from Virginia. “You must be my grandson Nathaniel,” Margaret said, sizing him up. “My, but you are tall and handsome.”
Nate beamed a smile at her, proving the recent loss of several baby teeth.
“And these are the twins,” Virginia told her. “Levinia and Thora.”
“That means lightning and thunder,” one of the girls said.
“I see,” Margaret replied, trying her best to sound very impressed. “And which one are you?”
“I’m Thora,” the child replied and curtsied.
Her sister, a near perfect mirror image of the first, curtsied and in a more hesitant voice declared, “I am Levinia.”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my dears,” Margaret said, smiling up to Virginia. “Twins are very rare. I don’t know of a single case in our families.”
Virginia shrugged as if the newness of such a thing had long since worn off. “I suppose it must be from Hampton’s side.”
Margaret eyed her daughter curiously. Perhaps another time would lend itself to a more intimate discussion with Virginia.
“Mother!” Georgia, the youngest of the Adams daughters, declared from the grand staircase.
Margaret looked up to find her daughter in a navy blue riding habit. Joseph had already told her that this was Georgia’s most common mode of dress these days. The love she had developed for anything equestrian caused her to stand ever ready to perform. My, but she has grown into a beauty, Margaret thought. Her hair, though brown like the others, had a slight auburn cast to it and had been piled and secured beneath a sturdy wool riding hat.
Virginia stepped aside as Georgia rushed to greet Margaret. “Oh, Mother, I had despaired of ever seeing this day. How good you look!” Georgia declared, then stepped back to survey her mother quite critically. “Well, you have lost weight, but no doubt Naomi’s cooking will put a bit of flesh back on you.”
Margaret laughed. “You sound every bit the part of a doting parent. Have our roles somehow reversed themselves?”
Joseph chuckled at the exchange. “Our Georgia prides herself in her doting. These three little gentlemen,” he said, motioning to the little boys who had not yet been introduced to her, “are her sons. And there’s yet another son, little David, in the nursery.”
“Yes, as well as a baby daughter. You will positively love her.”
“You needn’t convince me of that.”
“Will you love baby Deborah more than you love us?” Thora asked rather haughtily.
Margaret thought the child rather insecure to ask such a question and immediately sought to allay her fears. “Not at all. I have been blessed in my life with nine children, although four of those are no longer here with us. I loved each one of my children the best for entirely different reasons, and I would expect it to be no different with my grandchildren.” This seemed to appease Thora for the moment, and Margaret turned to the three quiet little boys.
Georgia went to stand behind them. “This is Phillip and he is six.” The child gave a much-practiced bow. His light brown hair fell across his forehead as he leaned forward, and when he arose, he jerked it back in place with a movement that suggested it went along with the bow. “This is Michael, who is five, and Stephen is four. David is a most rambunctious two, and that is why he is in the nursery instead of hanging from the fixtures down here. And finally there’s Deborah, who is just six months.”
Georgia’s boys mimicked their brother’s bow, although Margaret noted the absence of the head snap to secure their hair. “You are all very handsome brothers,” she told them and opened her arms. “Come and give me a hug.”
The boys looked obediently to their mother, then finding her approving nod, stepped forward and allowed their grandmother’s embrace. It amused Margaret that moments before Georgia’s appearance on the stairs, her boys had acted just as rowdy as Virginia’s children. Georgia seemed to hold great control over them when standing in the same room.
“Where are your husbands?” Margaret asked her daughters as the boys stepped back to stand beside their mother.
“Hampton is discussing horseflesh with the Major,” Georgia replied.
“He’d like to buy a new team for the brougham,” Virginia added.
“Well, I shall look forward to seeing them both,” Margaret replied, trying hard to stifle a yawn.
Joseph noted the action, however, and instantly came to put an arm around his wife. “Your mother has been traveling all day. I suggest we allow her a rest, and then we can celebrate further over dinner.”
“That would be wonderful,” Margaret replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. “I’ve scarcely had such busy days these past years.”
“Papa said you were crazy,” Thora Cabot declared.
“Thora!” Virginia exclaimed, reaching out to take her daughter in hand.
“It’s all right, Virginia,” Margaret said, coming to where they stood. “Thora, for a time, I was very crazy. At least it felt that way inside, and do you know why?”
The little girl, refusing to be intimidated by either her mother or her grandmother, shook her head. “How come?”
The room fell instantly silent, and Margaret actually felt relieved that Thora had dared to bring up the unspeakable. “Because my babies had died from a bad sickness. I was so sad to lose them that my mind grew very sick. I had to stay in the hospital for a long, long time, but God helped me to get well.”
“So you’re not crazy no more?” Thora asked, evidencing her five-year-old curiosity.
Margaret smiled, then chuckled at the stunned expressions on her daughters’ and husband’s faces. “No, I’m not crazy anymore. But I am very happy to be here with you all. I feel God has truly blessed me with His love.”
Again, Thora appeared satisfied and Margaret felt as though she’d just passed some sort of inspection. It was as if the child, although only five years old, had somehow designed a test of sorts to see exactly what kind of person she was dealing with. Margaret wondered if the girl had repeated what her father had said as a means of stirring additional strife, but it was hard to believe that a little child would be capable of such a thing. Still, she seemed quite smug in offering up her father’s words.
“Come, my dear,” Joseph said, taking hold of her arm. “Let’s retire you for a rest, and then you can listen to all the gossip and news of the county.”
Margaret promised her return, then allowed Joseph to lead her upstairs. He seemed most apologetic once they were behind the closed doors of their bedroom.
“I am sorry for what Thora said. It seems the child is given over to moments of intrusion.”
“I’m not at all sorry,” Margaret declared, unfastening the buttons of her wool traveling jacket. “If not for Thora, the tension might have gone on for days. Someone was bound to broach the subject sooner or later. Better a child in her innocent way than an adult in a more covert manner.”
“I suppose I should have warned you about the twins,” Joseph said, shaking his head. “They are a bit of a handful at times. Virginia tries to keep them under control, and Hampton hired a governess, a Miss Mayfield. She’s older and very respectable and brooks little nonsense from the children. But the twins can be very conniving, if I do say so. Thora, obviously, is the more outspoken of the two, but Levinia can be sneaky, as well.”
“Don’t fret over it. I’m certain that it is only a phase.” Margaret rid herself of her jacket and began unfastening the lace collar and ribbon at her neck. “I find everything the same, and yet so different,” she said with a quick glance around the room. “This room is just as I left it, yet not so the family.”
“There is much changed,” Joseph agreed. “And perhaps it is only the start.”
“Pray tell, Mr. Adams, what have you concocted now?” She sounded so much like her old self that they both laughed out loud.
“I haven’t really concocted anything just yet,” he admitted. “But it has been uppermost in my thoughts to change a great many things.
I suppose I’ve put it off in hopes of discussing these changes with you.”
“Such as?” she asked, going to the dresser where she knew without doubt she’d find her nightgowns. They were there just as she had thought. How good it would feel to sleep in her own bed once again.
“Well,” Joseph began, his voice clearly filled with hesitancy, “there is so much to consider these days. The slavery issue has escalated to a point where it consumes nearly every point of interest in the government. States are considered for admission to the union based almost solely on whether they will be slave or free. Doctrine and policy are set with this issue overshadowing every point, and you can scarcely go anywhere, even to church, without being assured of a rousing conversation on our peculiar little institution. I’ve thought hard of being done with such matters and moving on.”
Margaret stepped behind her dressing screen and slipped into her gown of white lawn. A feeling of familiarity washed over her. There was such contentment in simple things. “And how would you move on?” she said as she stepped out.
“It isn’t important.” He paused and smiled. “My, but you are beautiful. You’ve scarcely changed at all.”
“Oh, but I have,” she replied. “I’ve learned that so many things needn’t be the issue that we make them. You have spoken to me before of freeing our slaves. Is that still a thought in your mind?”
“That, as well as other things.” He sat down on the boot box at the end of their bed. “Suddenly slavery and public issues seem less important. I have to admit, my dear, bringing you home to Oakbridge has filled me with great apprehension.”
“Because of the past?”
He nodded. “I didn’t want you to suffer. I didn’t want to force you to stare all the memories in the eye again. I thought perhaps of dividing the property among our children, or of selling it outright. That would free us up to go wherever you would like. We could live anywhere.”
“Ah, I see the wanderlust is still with you, Mr. Adams.” Her voice was teasing and gentle. She came to where he sat, and for the first time in a long, long while, realized how very much she still desired this man.
Joseph looked up rather sheepishly. “I truly thought of your welfare.”
Margaret laughed. “I do believe you, husband dear. I am deeply touched that you care so much for me. But honestly, you must be at peace about this. I have long thought of this day and knew that it would come. I hoped and prayed that it would come. Being here isn’t any harder than being somewhere else. There are those empty places that were once filled by our children, but there are still others who fill the void. I will mourn Mary and Penny and the baby sons we lost so long ago for as long as I live.” Her voice was emotional, and Margaret knew that with little trouble she would soon cry. Drawing a deep breath, she chose instead to touch Joseph’s cheek with her hand.
“Don’t be afraid for me,” she told him softly. “Do what pleases you. For once in your life consider what you want first, and know that it will be my pleasure, as well.”
“I am so blessed to have you,” Joseph whispered.
“And I you,” Margaret agreed. She dropped her hold and went to the side of the bed. Turning down the covers, she smiled. “You look tired, Mr. Adams. Perhaps a midday respite would serve you well.”
Joseph got to his feet and shook his head. “No, no, my dear. You are the one who—” He fell silent as he caught what Margaret hoped was her most appealing and hopeful expression. As the meaning of her words sunk in, Margaret thought he looked twenty years younger.
Joseph cast a quick glance at the door and then again to the woman from whom he’d been so long parted. “I believe I am in need of a rest,” he replied with a roguish grin replacing his surprise. “Good to have you home to look after me, Mrs. Adams.”
Margaret laughed and slipped under the covers with a yawn. “It’s very good to be home, Mr. Adams.”
Hampton Cabot poured himself a good portion of whiskey and sat back to consider his plight. His mother-in-law’s arrival back home had been heralded with enough fanfare to rival that of any character of nobility. The dinner they’d enjoyed, now two evenings past, in celebration of her return, had left them all sated and satisfied physically, but Hampton became instantly aware of an undercurrent that he could not quite put his finger on. It unnerved him to be so completely in the dark on matters that clearly affected his future.
Tossing back the whiskey, he poured another glass and studied the amber liquid as though it might mystically reveal the answers he so desperately sought.
“I thought I might find you here,” Virginia said, coming into the drawing room generally reserved for the male members of the family and their guests.
“So, wife. Come to get yourself a drink?” he asked sarcastically. “I thought you generally drank alone or I might have invited you to join me.” He took a long swallow, then shook his head. “No, on second thought I would not have done that. Your company leaves a great deal to be desired.”
“It doesn’t seem to keep you from my bed,” Virginia replied harshly, the anger in her voice apparent.
“As is my right,” Hampton countered smugly. “And don’t you forget it.”
“I have little opportunity to do so, especially now.”
“What nonsense are you speaking of? Your mother’s arrival home hardly has anything to do with my conjugal rights.”
“I’m not talking about Mother’s return,” Virginia said hatefully.
“I’m talking about being pregnant. Once again, you’ve given me another child.”
“Is that what all this is about?” Hampton asked and laughed. “I say, good for me!” He held his glass aloft and smiled. “To yet another Cabot heir!” He swallowed the remaining whiskey and slammed the glass down on the table. Then knowing what would hurt her the most he added, “If you can manage to keep from miscarrying this one.” Although she’d given him three healthy children, Hampton could count nearly half a dozen other times she’d lost his children before they came to term.