Chapter 25
Joshua returned to the city, the sack of coins in his pocket weighing him down like an anchor. He almost had the means to purchase Henry’s freedom, but why did it have to come at such a cost?
The pain of parting would be easier to bear if he’d left her safe and happy. Instead, a niggling cord of worry tightened in his gut. He’d left her isolated, a target of Deacon Cole and with only two old men as protection.
But what was he to do? He had no right to call himself her protector. She’d passed him a sack of coins and dismissed him from her life with a cool nod. No matter how his heart longed for her, he had no choice but to leave Charlotte in God’s hands.
Watch over her. Protect her.
He turned down Duke Street and tried to put her from his mind. Henry must be his focus now.
The city streets were quiet as he approached Cooper’s Inn. Too quiet. He shrugged. He hadn’t spent evenings in the city for years now. Perhaps he misremembered how the city slept.
“Almost there, old friend,” he said, leaning forward to pat Bess’s stalwart neck as Cooper’s Inn came into view. The mare shook her head in response and picked up her pace, as though she understood his words. He led Bess down the alley and through the mews, stopping in front of the stable.
“Hello there,” he called, pounding on the stable door.
The grizzled face of a groom appeared. “Who’s there?”
The suspicious question took Joshua aback. “Joshua Robertson,” he answered. “Seeking board for my horse.” The man continued to study him. “Isn’t this Cooper’s Inn?”
“’Tis.”
“Have you no stalls free?” Joshua let impatience trickle into his voice.
“Aye, we do.” With a last searching glance, the groom opened the door. “Come in then. Can’t be too careful these days,” he offered in explanation.
Too careful of what? Joshua thought of the rebels assembling to the north and the eerily quiet streets. Was the city hunkering down to prepare for an attack? His breath caught. Would Charlotte be safe at Edenbrook if violence erupted? He shuddered at the thought.
Keeping an eye out for Henry, he followed the groom to an empty stall. “Do you have a stable boy?”
“Aye.” The groom gave a derisive snort. “When I can find ’im.” He moved to the ladder that led to the hayloft. “Henry,” he bellowed. “Get down here.”
Henry. Joshua inhaled, scarcely allowing himself to hope it might be this easy. A head popped over the edge of the loft. Short red hair stuck out in all directions. A face looked back at him, a face almost as familiar as his own. Joshua’s heart lurched. Finally.
“Hello, Henry.”
The boy’s eyes widened and for a moment Joshua was certain he saw a flash of joy on his face. Then his expression closed. “What do you want?”
Joshua had never heard his cheerful little brother speak with such sullen insolence. But then, he hadn’t spoken to him in nearly two years. An eternity to a little boy who felt alone and abandoned.
“Here now, is that how to speak to a patron of this inn?” The groom’s voice quivered in outrage. His gnarled hand reached for a nearby pitchfork.
“No need for that,” Joshua said, putting a staying hand on the old man’s arm. “I’m acquainted with this young man. May I have a word with him?”
At the groom’s curt nod, Joshua started up the ladder, his eyes on Henry’s guarded face. “I’m so glad I’ve found you.”
Henry’s lip curled in scorn, and Joshua swallowed. The boy had been through a lot. It was only natural he wouldn’t fall into his brother’s arms. “Couldn’t have looked that hard. I wasn’t hiding.”
The words hit Joshua like a shovel, stopping him halfway up the ladder. Under the anger, he saw the hurt. He’d broken the boy’s trust. Joshua remembered how alone he’d felt when Mam sent him out to work. It had been years before he’d understood she’d had his best interests at heart.
“I’m sorry.” Joshua searched for the words to make Henry understand.
“I didn’t realize . . . By the time I found you, you were indentured and I—” Henry turned his head away as though he didn’t want to listen.
Joshua took out the sack of coins in his pocket and held it up like an offering.
“I have nearly enough to pay off your indenture.” He was five pounds short, but surely he could find work of some kind in the city to make up the difference.
Henry shrugged. “Got me a good situation now.” The way he emphasized the word good made Joshua flinch. “Don’t need your handouts anymore.” He drew back, disappearing into the hayloft.
Joshua bolted the rest of the way up, his regret giving way to a flash of anger. He’d sacrificed everything to build a home for them. How dare Henry refuse him?
“I’m not offering you handouts,” Joshua said, his eyes seeking Henry in the gloom. “I’m offering you a home. With me.”
The shuffling sounds stopped. “A home?” Henry said finally. “Where? In the wilderness?”
Joshua ignored the sarcasm in Henry’s voice. “Just wait until you see it. I’ve fixed up my cabin nice and snug. Right in the middle of the most beautiful forest you’ve ever seen. Stands of oak and pine. Some fine walnut, too.”
“And you’ll chop all those trees down and plant crops?” Henry’s skepticism might be justified. The boy must remember how Joshua loved the woods.
“In part, yes.”
The boy snorted. “So you’ve land to clear. Now that I’m big enough to be some use, you want me around.”
Joshua opened his mouth but the words of explanation, of love, stuck in his throat. Joshua might have thought the same thing in his place. “It’s not like that. I want us to be together. We’re family.”
Henry shook his head. “Nope, I’m staying put. I’m better off here than I’d ever be with you.”
“How can you say that? What future is there as a stable boy?”
“I’ve got a friend who’s teaching me my letters. I won’t be a stable boy forever.” He stuck his chin out and crossed his arms. “And I’m not leaving the city.”
Joshua recognized the stubborn look on Henry’s face. He stood for a moment longer at the top of the ladder, wishing he could think of the words that would convince Henry to give him a chance.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the wolf he’d carved from walnut and buffed to a dark, lustrous shine.
“Here,” he said, holding out the carving.
“I made this for you.” Henry edged closer.
“It’s a wolf,” Joshua added. He wanted to explain how wolves found strength in the pack.
How a lone wolf was a sad and sorry sight.
For a moment, Henry lifted his hand as if he would reach out and take the carving. Then he gave his head a sharp shake, as though he reminded himself of something. He dropped his arm and turned his back to Joshua. “I don’t want nothing from you.”
Joshua descended, each rung of the ladder closing the door on the future he’d planned.
He stood for a long moment at the bottom, his hands gripping the side rails, the hurt sharp and hot.
He’d felt the pain of rejection before, but this, coming so soon after leaving Charlotte, was like a fresh burn on a wound that hadn’t yet healed.
On his way out, he set the wolf on a windowsill. Perhaps Henry would see it later and think of him. He snorted at the fanciful idea. It would likely end up in the fire.
Maybe Henry was right. The boy was better off here in the city with his friends, where he could make something of himself. Just like Charlotte was better off in the comfort of Edenbrook.
And he was better off alone.
Charlotte retreated to her bedroom, glad her window didn’t offer a view of the stable yard. She’d only be tempted to take a last glimpse of Joshua. It would hurt too much. The pang of his betrayal was too fresh, like a sharp jab to her midsection.
Fulton would probably reprimand her later for not offering him refreshment, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Joshua inside Edenbrook. Their time together in the woods would haunt her enough. The last thing she needed was memories of him here, everywhere she turned.
Charlotte shed her trousers with unsteady fingers and pulled on the first dress in her wardrobe, a faded blue cambric that had belonged to her mother, with a high waist that hadn’t been in fashion for a decade or more.
She smoothed the slim skirts and took a shaky breath, Mama’s dress renewing her sense of purpose.
Her interlude in the woods was over. Someday, perhaps, she’d remember it as her one great adventure.
For now, she needed to focus on Papa. He needed her. Edenbrook needed her.
She descended, marshaling her thoughts for the discussion ahead. How would she explain that Simon wasn’t coming home?
But the study was cold and dark. She shivered. Papa was always in his study. Whirling, she headed back down the hall, almost colliding with Fulton, who’d emerged from the kitchen. “Where is he?”
His eyes shifted to the side, his hesitation making her stomach tighten. “Upstairs, miss. Took to his bed after you left.”
“Took to his bed?” She had to repeat the words to believe them. Papa spent as little time in the bedroom as possible. Mama’s needlepoint pillows and dainty watercolors brought back too many memories, or so she’d always assumed. He never stayed in bed all day, no matter how ill he felt.
“Aye.” Fulton rubbed a hand across his face and Charlotte noticed new lines of weariness there.
What had happened in the days since she’d left?
“Didn’t want to say anything outside, in front of .
. .” He jerked his chin toward the yard and their recent visitor.
She nodded in understanding. Papa’s health was private family business. “He took a turn for the worse.”
Charlotte bounded up the stairs to see for herself. Fulton was a worrywart. Perhaps he exaggerated Papa’s state. She tapped on the door and pushed it open without waiting for a response. The room was lit only by a low fire in the hearth.
She moved to the bedside. “Papa?” Reaching out, she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling his bones beneath her fingers.
He roused, his eyes opening a crack. “Charlotte?”