Days of Gold (18 page)

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Authors: Jude Deveraux

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Deveraux; Jude - Prose & Criticism, #Historical Fiction, #Romance - Historical, #Fiction, #Romance, #Romance: Historical, #Historical, #General, #Love Stories, #Fiction - Romance

BOOK: Days of Gold
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Edilean sat at the table, looking out the windows at the ocean. It had been a week since she’d told Angus what she thought of his behavior, and now everything was different. There wasn’t a day when she didn’t mentally kick herself for her stupid, childish thoughts she’d had before that day. It was true that she’d tried to make him into something he wasn’t, but for the last week she’d made it up to him by not interfering in his life. In fact, she’d done her best not to say much at all to him. Their dinners with the captain and Mr. Jones
had changed, so they weren’t the happy events they had been. The first night after their argument, Angus said, “Sorry, but my wife isn’t feeling well,” and they’d left the dining room soon after the meal. Edilean had spent most of the week inside the cabin reading any book she could find. Angus spent his time on the deck. If he was with the women prisoners, she didn’t want to know about it.

When the door opened, Edilean looked back at her book and ignored Angus. No more did she lay out his clothes for him, and he’d learned to tie his own cravat. She’d even arranged for Margaret to come to her cabin twice a day to help her with her corset.

“I’ll need a job in the new country and you need a maid,” Margaret said the second day, heavily hinting that Edilean should hire her.

Edilean had given the woman a cool smile and said she’d think about it. But the truth was that she’d never hire a woman who’d done whatever Margaret had to get herself transported.

Now, Angus said, “Lass! You should get out of here more.”

“I have work to do before we arrive in America, so I need to get it done.”

“And what work would that be?”

“A house,” she said without thought. “I think I’ll have a house built to my specifications.”

“And what would they be?”

Edilean didn’t answer him because she hadn’t been thinking about a house or her future. In fact, when she thought of the new country and being utterly alone, she nearly froze in fear. Never in her life had she had any independence, and now to go from having no freedom to being entirely on her own scared her.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Did you enjoy your dancing today?”

“Did you enjoy your sulking?”

She didn’t answer him, as it seemed that every word she said started a fight with him.

Angus picked up the quill pen, dipped it into a pot of ink, and paused over a sheet of paper. “About a year ago your uncle sent me to London to run an errand for him.” He made a few lines on the paper, then looked up at her. “Now that I think about it, I believe the errand was about you. I had to meet a man outside a bank and he gave me a letter to take back to your uncle Neville. At the time I wondered why he didn’t just post the letter, but now I think it was about the gold, and it told Lawler something he wasn’t supposed to know.”

As Angus talked, he was making quick marks on the paper. Edilean wanted to see what he was doing but the pile of books she’d borrowed from the captain was blocking her view.

“Anyway,” Angus said, “as I was riding, I saw a house that had been built only the year before. It was rather plain and very simple, but I thought it was the most beautiful house I’d ever seen.”

He pushed the paper toward her, and she saw that he’d sketched a truly lovely house. As he’d said, it was a rather plain house with five windows on the second floor, four windows and a door on the ground floor.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, not able to suppress her praise. “And your sketch is excellent. How would you arrange the interior?”

“I have no idea. It’s not as though they invited me in for tea. If I’d been wearing this getup and talking like James, they would have, but not as I was then.”

Edilean’s face still showed her surprise at his drawing. He had an eye for proportion, and for all that he held a quill as though it were a foreign object, the rendering was very good. Edilean ducked her head to hide her smile, but he saw it.

“Was that a smile?”

“No!” she said sharply.

“You’ve been angry at me for a whole week! Can you not find it in your heart to forgive a man who took his homesickness out on you?”

“You blame me for all your misfortunes.”

“That’s because you’re the cause of them.” When she looked away, he said, “But now that I’ve talked to some people about this America, I think I might like it.”

“How could you when you left your family back in Scotland?”

“About that, lass, perhaps my life there was not as good as I said it was.”

“According to you it was pure heaven.”

“Did I tell you that my father left me a cottage?”

“No,” she said. “In fact, you’ve told me very little about yourself—except that you were the happiest man on earth and I destroyed it all for you.”

“Perhaps that was a wee bit of an exaggeration.”

For a moment she thought about picking up her book and moving away from him, but she’d missed him in this last week of coolness. “So you owned a cottage?”

“It was a pretty little place with a thatched roof and deep windows. My mother grew roses on one side and I’d wake up to the smell of them.”

“You’ve never mentioned your mother,” Edilean said. “Or for that matter, your father.”

“Died long ago,” Angus said in a tone that told he’d say no more. “It was just my sister and me left and she...” Pausing, he shook his head. “She fell in love with a man who is very lazy, and takes great joy in belittling other people, me in particular.”

“Worse than Shamus?”

“Different. If you held a penny in your hand and Shamus
wanted it, he’d break your arm to get it. But my brother-in-law, Gavin, would say how greedy you were and that if he had a penny he’d give it to the church. Of course you’d have to give it away. Either way, you’d end up penniless.”

“How drunk did you get at the wedding?”

Her question startled Angus and made him laugh. “Oh, lass, but I’ve missed your humor. But you’re right. I drank so much I had a sore head for a week. My sister and her new husband were to move in with Gavin’s mother, but Kenna—that’s my sister—stood it only six months. Gavin’s mother was just like him, and she used Kenna as a maid.”

“So they moved in with you?”

“Aye, they did,” Angus said. “And three months later, she had her first bairn.”

“Three months? Doesn’t it usually take longer than that? Or is Scotland better in that too?”

“They started early. It seems there’s one thing Gavin isn’t lazy at. My sister’s had three babes in two years of marriage.”

Edilean couldn’t keep from smiling. It had been a long, boring week, with Angus and she speaking so little.

“About this week,” he said softly. “It’s not been easy for me.”

“Nor for me,” she said.

“But this time has given me a chance to think,” he said. “What could have happened to me there in Scotland? I was where I was going to be. But thanks to you, I have a possibility of a new life.”

“It took you a week to think of that?”

“Three days,” he said, grinning. “Since then I’ve been talking to everyone who’s been to America and asking questions. I think a man could make something of himself in this new land.”

“And what would that be?” she asked.

She saw by Angus’s face that he was about to make some smart retort to her question, but he seemed to change his mind.

“My own home,” he said at last. “My own horses. My own... all of it. Everything owned by me. No more spending my days wet and cold and looking for another man’s missing sheep.”

“But I thought you loved the climate of Scotland. And you hate wearing James’s clothes, but that’s what a landowner wears.”

“Maybe I could grow used to shaving every day,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

She looked back at his sketch. “If this were my house, I know just how I’d make the interior.”

“And how would that be?

She picked up the quill to do the sketching but put it back down. “Few rooms. Tall ceilings. I’ve heard that Virginia has a warm climate, so you’d need height for the hot air to rise. And a big central hallway on both floors so you can open the doors and let the air come through.”

“So you like what you’ve heard of this Virginia?” Angus picked up the quill and began to sketch the floor plan she’d described.

“Captain Inges told me it was a beautiful place. He said that when he retires he plans to live there, and he said the Boston winters are brutal.” She was watching him intently as he drew, and she was glad that he’d decided to quit railing at her that she’d destroyed his life. It was too heavy a burden of guilt to carry.

“What will you do when we get there?” she asked softly.

He was intent on his drawing. “I think I’ll go to this Williamsburg Mr. Jones told me about. It seems to be the center of all that’s about to happen.”

“What does that mean?” she asked quickly. “What’s about to happen?”

“Americans are talking about becoming independent from England.”

“That’s absurd. How can they become independent? How can they do without a king?”

“Bloody well, I’d think.”

“How can you say that? A king is someone who’s born to rule. It’s a God-given right. The king—”

“Do you mean to start another fight between us?”

“No,” she said softly.

“Lass... I mean, Mrs. Harcourt, I’ve had a great deal of time to think this week and I see how different you and I are. Do you think there’s even one subject we agree on?”

“No, I guess not.” She wanted to tell him how afraid she was of being alone in the new country, but she could tell that he had no fear. He was a young man on his way to an adventure, and thanks to her gift of the jewels he’d have a lot of money. For a moment she thought of saying she wanted the diamonds back. If he had no money maybe he wouldn’t run off and leave her alone on the docks as soon as the ship dropped anchor.

“And what is that long face for?” he asked.

“You’re looking forward to arriving in America, aren’t you?”

He looked at her for a moment before returning to the paper. “Have you considered that Harcourt will have made arrangements for him and his wife in America?”

“No,” she said slowly. “I haven’t.” The thought lifted her spirits a bit. “You mean maybe he’s arranged accommodations?” The idea of a place to go to made her feel better. She’d never lived in a hotel before and didn’t want to, and she dreaded having to.

“I think that everything he did was a long time in the planning. Did you know that he booked passage on this ship seven months ago?”

“But how could he? He didn’t know what my uncle was going to do.”

“Are you sure? Lawler was closemouthed, but those two men who nearly lived with him weren’t. I think Harcourt planned everything for around your eighteenth birthday. I doubt if he eloped with the earl’s daughter, so he must have been courting her while telling you he was going to be with you. My guess is that Harcourt meant to go through a false marriage ceremony with you. Then, when he had your gold...” Angus shrugged.

Edilean sat there blinking at him, thinking about what he’d said. She didn’t want to think about James’s betrayal, but having a home was a different matter. “So you think that maybe in America there’s a house or at least somewhere for me to live? Not that I can go there, but...”

“Why not? It’ll be a month before Harcourt can get a letter here, and everyone will know you as Mrs. James Harcourt.”

“And you as my husband,” Edilean shot back.

Angus smiled. “I will quietly disappear the minute we’re there, so you’ll be free to be whoever you want to be. A widow perhaps.”

“And what do I do when James shows up?”

“Show him the marriage certificate saying he’s married to the earl’s daughter, not to you. If there is a house, I doubt if it’s been paid for, since he was waiting for your gold.”

“But—” Edilean began, then broke off. “I think you have the mind of a criminal.”

“Thank you,” he said as he handed her what he’d been drawing. “Is this what you meant?” He showed her a floor plan that was perfectly proportioned. Downstairs was a wide hallway with a big stairway in it. The hall was flanked by four rooms, each looking large and airy. The second floor was nearly the same, but on one side the two rooms weren’t equal size, with one half again as large as the other.

“The big room is for your books,” he said. “You can put shelves floor to ceiling on three sides and fill them with books.”

That he’d thought of her while drawing almost made tears come to her eyes. “Where did you learn to draw like this?”

He shrugged. “Not all the men who’ve visited your uncle have been like the two you met. When I was a boy, younger even than Tam, a rich young man came to stay, and he wanted to draw the old castles of Scotland. He paid me to travel with him up into the Highlands while he drew. I watched and I learned.”

When Edilean said nothing, he glanced at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s just that you always surprise me.”

“Because I’m not the ignorant Scot you think I am?”

She didn’t smile. “I’ve thought a lot of things about you, but never that you were... ‘ignorant.’ ”

Angus frowned as he began sketching on another piece of paper. “Have you done what you said you would and fallen in love with me?”

“When did I ever say such a thing?”

“In those first days when you looked at me with eyes full of adoration.”

“Of what? I can assure you that I have never ‘adored’ you.”

“After I saved you from Harcourt—”

“After I saved you from the gallows.”

“Caused by your hiding in a coffin,” he said.

She couldn’t help smiling. “I will always remember your face. It was whiter than mine, and I was covered with sawdust.”

“But you were still the most beautiful—” He cut himself off and put down the quill. “I need to go out,” he said abruptly, and in a few steps he was out the door, leaving Edilean gaping.

“Now what have I done?” she asked aloud as she picked up his
drawing. “He should train as an architect,” she whispered and immediately had an idea of the two of them living together in the house he’d drawn. He’d work in the big room upstairs, surrounded by rolled-up sheets of drawings. And he’d ask her opinion about every building. “You know that you’re better at interiors than I am,” he’d say. And, “What color do you think I should paint these walls?”

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