Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Madeline, seated beside Mrs. Dalton on the sofa while listening politely to John tell her about all his relatives in Yorkshire, had just raised her teacup to her lips when the front door of the house swung open.
Adam stepped inside and paused in the entrance hall. Their gazes locked and held. His eyes then shot to Mrs. Dalton and he appeared flustered for a moment, almost angry with himself.
Madeline set down her teacup.
Adam glanced briefly at John and nodded, then his boots thumped down the hall toward the kitchen.
She wondered if something was wrong. Should she go and ask if there was a problem, and try to help somehow?
Her heart began to beat heavily against her ribcage. She took a deep, calming breath to allay it, telling herself that Adam’s moods and problems were not hers to sort out, at least not when she had a gentleman caller.
Mrs. Dalton said nothing. She didn’t seem startled or surprised. She simply drank her tea.
The conversation then resumed.
A few minutes later, Penelope came down the stairs and joined them in the parlor.
The sight of the child’s big brown eyes and the sound of her little voice brought a smile to Madeline’s face.
Penelope told them about the baby’s strong grip, how she had grasped Penelope’s thumb in her hand and not let go even when Penelope had tried to gently shake her off.
Madeline suddenly wondered what Adam was doing in the kitchen all this time. Had he noticed the half-plucked chicken? Was it in his way if he wanted to sit down at the table? Or was he simply listening to their conversation?
“So there’s a good chance my brothers will come, too,” John said, “if things work out for me here.”
Madeline realized she had missed something of the conversation just now.
“Shall we take Mr. Metcalf for a walk?” Penelope suggested. “We could show him the swing.”
“You just want someone to push you,” Mrs. Dalton said good-naturedly.
“I’ll push you,” John offered.
Penelope stood and Madeline set down her cup to go with them.
“I’ll tend to this,” Agnes offered, tidying up. “You three go out and enjoy the fine weather.”
Madeline followed Penelope to the door, but sensed Adam’s presence, watching them. She glanced briefly over her shoulder, and sure enough, he was standing there in the kitchen doorway, silently sipping coffee, staring at her. His gaze was dark and intense.
Her skin prickled with awareness and an urge to stay behind and ask what was wrong, for she sensed he was not himself, but instead, she forced herself to ignore the impulse.
There was no sense nurturing the intimacy of their so-called friendship, and feeding forbidden feelings that were already dangerously out of control.
She followed John and Penelope outside where a spotted sandpiper was perched on the stone bench near the birch grove. Penelope began to tiptoe toward it with her hand outstretched, as if to make friends.
Grateful for the distraction, Madeline watched her, then felt John’s gaze on her face.
“That bird,” he said, “will make a mess on your bench. She doesn’t feed them, does she? That’ll only bring more of them around.”
Madeline kept her gaze fixed on Penelope, whose shoulders slumped in disappointment when the tiny bird flew away.
“I believe she enjoys the music they make,” Madeline told him.
He shrugged at that and followed Madeline, who led the way up the hill, on a footpath through the trees. Along the way, Penelope skipped ahead, stopping in a dusty clearing to pick fragrant, bright yellow chamomile along the edge of the wood.
John talked about how much trouble he was having finding a place to live, and Madeline listened politely to every word.
He told her about all the people he had met at the fort the past week, and the farmers he had met on his quest for good land.
He spoke of the farms and the livestock and the crops, told her about his plans and ambitions.
He was a handsome young man, she decided, noticing the way his tawny hair curled around his face in the front. In the back it was tied in a neat queue. Madeline supposed that if there were many unmarried women in Cumberland, they would probably be fighting over him.
Madeline ducked under the branches of some birch saplings, then pointed at a towering old oak. “There’s the swing.”
Penelope ran and hopped on. John hurried to catch up, and she laughed when he spun the swing around, then let go. Penelope twirled in dizzying circles, her skirts flapping in the breeze.
Madeline leaned against the thick tree trunk, its bark covered in lichen and small patches of green moss, and felt the cool air caress her cheeks. She watched John push Penelope on the swing and wondered about him.
Was this visit the beginning of a courtship, or was he just being neighborly? Unfortunately, she didn’t have much experience with this sort of thing. No young man had ever come to call on her in Yorkshire. Not even once.
John didn’t know about her past, of course. So here he was.
Would it matter, she wondered? If he knew, would he still come? She had heard that single women were scarce commodities here in Cumberland, so perhaps the men would be less choosy and more willing to forgive past transgressions. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, after all.
Oh, what a horrible, horrible insult. To both herself and John. She chided herself for it. John was a handsome young man, a very good catch. He was not a “beggar,” and she was not a batch of useless, second-rate goods, even if she was invisible to most men.
She wondered further, if John decided to come calling again after today, and again after that, would she ever tell him what had happened at Stanley Hall? How would he react? Would he be as understanding and supportive as Adam had been?
You’re in my care now, and I would defend your honor to the death if I had to. I only wish I had known you then…I would have been your champion.
A jovial screech from Penelope pulled Madeline from her thoughts, and she stepped away from the towering oak.
“Perhaps we should go back,” John suggested. “Our hour’s up. I wouldn’t want to displease Mr. Coates on my first day.”
My first day. So he did plan to return.
Madeline waited for Penelope to hop off the swing and lead the way down the hill, then tried to figure out exactly how she felt about another visit from John Metcalf.
* * *
Mrs. Dalton was married in a private ceremony in Adam’s home, followed by a wedding breakfast of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup, poached salmon, maple-pecan scones and fresh apple spice cake for dessert.
Shortly after noon, she drove off with her new husband and left Madeline behind, in full charge of the household. Madeline immediately settled into her role, cooking all the meals for the family, helping Mary care for the baby and spending time with the children.
One afternoon the following week, Madeline completed her midday chores early and decided to reward herself with a short walk along the road that overlooked the great marsh.
Clouds were thick and heavy overhead and the ground was still damp from a morning rain.
In the distance, a thick fog encased the forested ridge on the other side of the marsh, and Madeline could smell the salty tang of the sea.
She’d had no time to herself lately, she realized as she watched the toes of her boots peek out from under her skirts with each long stride.
Not that she was complaining. The truth was, she enjoyed being so busy.
She and Penelope and Charlie had been studying multiplication, and yesterday they decided to hold a spelling bee Tuesday evening after supper as a special entertainment for Adam, who had been away the past few days and would be returning that afternoon.
Adam had traveled to Halifax to meet Nova Scotia’s new lieutenant-governor, the Viscount Blackthorne, and speak with him about establishing a committee to maintain the marshlands.
Lord Blackthorne had just arrived from England a month ago, and he was eager to be an auspicious representative for King George. For that reason, he was keen to familiarize himself with the colony and address land issues.
Adam worried that some of the absentee farmers in Cumberland were neglecting their sections of the marsh, and that their negligence could affect all of the farmers if anything unpredictable occurred.
Adam believed that Lord Blackthorne might be receptive to his concerns, for it was a well-known fact that the aging aristocrat had relations in Yorkshire, and for that reason, he seemed genuinely interested in Cumberland and its success.
He had recently been quoted as saying that “Yorkshire farmers were the best around.”
Madeline walked down the steep ridge to the lowlands, where Adam had taken her riding a few weeks earlier.
It seemed like ages had passed since that day, for they now knew each other so much better.
Just then, the thunderous sound of hoof beats appeared over the ridge.
She turned to see Adam sitting astride his big horse, his black coat flapping in the wind, looking for all the world like a prince riding toward her.
His white shirt was clean and his neckcloth tied in a perfect knot at his collar.
There was no dirt or dust on his riding boots today.
Even the brass buttons on his coat were polished and shiny.
Her belly swarmed with a fluttering sensation that she tried to beat down.
“Good afternoon, Madeline.” Adam pulled his horse to a halt beside her.
“Hello, and welcome back,” she replied.
“Was everything all right while I was gone?”
“We were fine. How was your trip?”
“Very good, thank you.”
Adam knew he had been avoiding Madeline lately, and he had hoped his time in Halifax might have cooled his attraction to her.
A part of him also hoped that his feelings had been induced by John Metcalf’s visit and a basic male competitiveness that had nothing to do with Madeline specifically. Perhaps it was merely a hankering to be young again.