Too Far to Whisper
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In 17th-century New England, Rosalind Chandler’s complete lack of interest in ever becoming a bride is a constant source of speculation and gossip in town.
Then a twist of fate delivers two men – enemies of each other – into her life on the same day. Although both men initially intrigue her, one soon turns her blood cold, while the other heats it to a degree she is unable to comprehend...or control. Soon her resolve never to wed begins to crumble.
The problem is, the proposal of marriage comes from the wrong man...and he refuses to be denied.
Arianna Eastland
Arianna Eastland is a native New Englander whose fascination with the Native-American culture and its history in her area led her to read everything she could on the subject. One book she read alleged that many Pilgrim women who were kidnapped and held for ransom by Native-American warriors opted not to return to their husbands because they became infatuated with their captors. This gave Arianna the idea for her first romance novel, TOO FAR TO WHISPER, set in 17th-Century New England. When she is not writing, Arianna enjoys hiking, traveling and art. She also confesses that one of her guilty pleasures is watching TV reality shows.
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Too Far to Whisper - Arianna Eastland
TOO FAR TO WHISPER
Arianna Eastland
© Copyright 2012 Arianna Eastland
Original cover photo by Rakicevic Nenad
(edited by Arianna Eastland)
This book is a work of fiction. Although some of the cities and locations actually exist, they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters also are works of fiction. Any names or characteristics similar to those of any person, past or present, are purely coincidental.
DEDICATED TO JOHN
My inspiration for Shadow Runner
TOO FAR TO WHISPER
PROLOGUE
New England – 1648
She thought he was a bear…
It was nightfall when the girl regained consciousness. She was lying on her back on something soft, something that felt like fur. She could hear the wind still angrily whipping at the trees, yet, for reasons she could not fathom, she no longer feared it.
She turned her head to the side and saw a crackling fire but a few feet from her. Its brightness temporarily blinded her, causing her to clamp her eyes shut. She allowed several minutes to pass before she made a second attempt to scan her surroundings.
Above her was a crude roof made of interwoven pine boughs, which sagged beneath the weight of the snow. Her eyes momentarily were drawn to a hole in the center of it, through which the smoke from the fire curled upward and dissipated. Desperately, she struggled to collect her thoughts, hoping for some flash of memory, some clue that would lead her to recall how she had come to be in this unfamiliar place.
She remembered going out to the woodshed to fetch some firewood just after the blizzard had begun, and spying a doe, injured and limping, near the edge of the woods. Concerned, she had followed it until the fiercely blowing snow had covered the deer’s tracks and her own…and everything else that was familiar to her. With no visible landmarks to guide her, and a constant sea of whiteness swirling around her, she had wandered in circles for over an hour. The bone-chilling cold had at first been painful, then numbing, until she no longer was able to feel anything from her knees to the soles of her feet. She remembered her body finally defying her and refusing to move, no matter how strongly she willed it to. Defeated, she had curled into a fetal position in the snow and awaited her death.
Yet here she lay, still very much alive.
Slowly, she lifted her head. She saw him then, sitting directly across from her. He was draped in bearskin from head to foot and sat hunched over with his chin resting on his drawn-up knees. She could not see his face from beneath his cloak of fur, only his black eyes, which reflected the firelight and made him, she thought, appear more beastlike than human. He studied her silently, not blinking, until she began to feel as if she were some innocent prey about to be devoured.
She looked away from him in an effort to ease her discomfort. Her eyes came to rest on something that made her gasp out loud. There, spread out next to the fire, was all of the clothing she had been wearing…including her undergarments. Her heartbeat quickened and her breath came in short gasps as she struggled to sit up. The action caused the blanket of pelts that had been covering her to fall to her waist. Her gaze dropped to her naked breasts, her pale pink nipples erect from their sudden exposure to the air. Her head snapped in the direction of the stranger. His eyes also were fixed on her breasts.
She tugged the furs up around her neck and scooted on her bottom, farther away from the unrelenting eyes.
At that same moment, the man-beast moved to a hands-and-knees position and began to slowly crawl toward her.
In the flickering shadows of the fire, the outline of his form, moving on all fours with the bearskin still draped around it, made the girl believe he truly was not human at all.
Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, she stifled a scream.
CHAPTER ONE
New England – 1654
Thus far, the day had been an emotional one for Rosalind Chandler. She had dreaded its arrival for weeks, knowing it would bring about a significant change in her life. And now that it was here, her only desire was to see it over with in all possible haste.
She took a sip of sweet sack-posset, the traditional wedding drink, then nibbled absently on her piece of fruit-filled bride cake. Try as she might, she could not deny that her brother Benjamin’s undisguised joy as he had spoken his wedding vows but an hour before had thoroughly warmed her heart. His bride, Faith Abbot, was a lovely, well-bred young lady, and it was apparent from her radiant smile she returned Ben’s feelings twofold.
But as Rosalind eyed the beaming couple being congratulated by one of the twenty or more guests who had gathered in the Abbotts’ small, modest home for the celebration, she was unable to share their joy. She realized she was being selfish, but she could not help the way she felt. She was losing her older brother – her only brother. No longer would he be within earshot whenever she needed him or she wanted to share her thoughts. No longer would she and her two younger sisters enjoy his tall tales each night as they sat by the fire. Since their father’s passing six months earlier, Ben had become the only man she could rely upon. And now he was leaving her.
Why the frown?
a male voice interrupted her thoughts.
Rosalind lifted her gaze to meet her brother’s concerned blue eyes, the color of which was identical to her own. She thought he had never looked more handsome. Attired in a crisp white shirt and neckcloth and gray waistcoat, with his blond hair neatly groomed and tied back with a black ribbon, Ben made an impressive groom.
I am missing you already,
Rosalind said. The house will seem too empty without you.
Ben’s look of concern turned to one of amusement. Good Lord, girl, you speak of me as though I have died! I shall be but a stone’s throw away.
"Too soon you will have a family of your own to care for. We shall be fortunate if we ever see you."
I assure you, you are worrying yourself for naught.
Ben paused to accept a congratulatory handshake from one of the wedding guests, then returned his attention to his sister. You must not think of it as losing a brother, but instead as gaining a sister.
Sisters, I do not need,
Rosalind said. With you gone, there no longer will be a man in the house. We shall be four women alone.
Then perhaps you should seriously consider filling that void…with a husband.
Rosalind stiffened. As I have told you repeatedly, Ben, I fully intend to remain unwed.
Nonsense!
He dismissed her statement with a wave of his hand. You are far too pretty, too loving in nature, to forsake marriage and children for a life of naught but loneliness. The townspeople already are puzzling over the reason why a woman of nearly twenty shows no interest whatsoever in finding a husband…or even a suitor.
And what concern is it of theirs?
Rosalind snapped. "’Tis my life! I, and only I, shall decide when or if I ever wish to be wed!"
By then, all of the eligible men in town will be bald, lame and toothless!
Ben shook his head and sighed. Oft times I wonder if you fear men, Rosalind. You certainly have done naught to prove otherwise. Perhaps if you had a man in your life, you would not be standing here looking as though you have just witnessed a funeral.
She narrowed her eyes at her brother, but held her tongue. Somehow he, as well as their mother, always managed to shift the topic to her lack of eagerness to become a bride. Still, she could not fault them for their concern, for she never had offered a proper explanation as to why she so adamantly discouraged any man who wished to court her. She knew she never could tell Ben – or anyone else – the real reason; not without bringing irrevocable shame upon herself and her family.
Have you seen Mother?
Rosalind purposely changed the subject. She did not wish to spend one more second on the topic of marriage.
When last I saw her, she was in the company of Elias Corwin,
Ben said.
The magistrate?
Rosalind’s eyebrows rose. I was not aware he and Mother were acquainted.
Well, they appeared to lack naught for conversation when I witnessed them. One would think they were dear friends.
For what purpose is he here? Did Faith’s family invite him?
Ben shook his head, then chuckled. Perhaps he is here to make certain we are upholding the law and not growing too unruly.
Now you have aroused my curiosity,
Rosalind said. I think I shall go find them, if you will excuse me.
She smoothed the folds of her plain, blue dress and tucked a stray blond curl beneath her white cap, then slowly made her way through the maze of guests.
She spied her mother and Elias Corwin standing in a corner near the stone hearth. So deep was their conversation, they appeared oblivious to any activity around them. Elias, a portly, balding man, punctuated his statements with exaggerated arm movements that strained the fabric of his already too-snug shirt. Rosalind’s mother, slender and dark-haired, seemed to be hanging on to his every word, her eyes embracing his round face.
Most of the townspeople feared Elias Corwin. According to rumors, the man thrived on power and upheld the laws to the extreme. Even young children, whose crimes were no more severe than talking too loudly in church, were said to have felt the sting of the magistrate’s whip.
Elias owned an impressive estate as well as the Fox and Raven Tavern in town. His two sons, Nathaniel, a ship’s captain, and Matthew, a student at Harvard College, were away more often than at home, so Rosalind had not had the opportunity to meet, or even catch more than a brief glimpse of either of the Corwin brothers. She had heard it was not difficult to determine when one of them was about, however. The steady stream of tittering young ladies carrying their finest baked goods or sweets to the Corwins’ door was said to be a telltale sign that either Matthew or Nathaniel was within.
Hello, Mother, Magistrate Corwin.
Rosalind greeted each of them with a nod.
Rosalind!
Her mother’s delight at seeing her daughter was obvious. We were just speaking of you!
When her mother smiled, Rosalind thought she was truly beautiful, appearing much younger than her years. But since Rosalind’s father’s passing, her mother’s smile had become much too rare.
Oh?
Rosalind said. And for what purpose was my name being mentioned?
Actually, we were discussing my wife, Abigail,
Elias Corwin replied, transferring his attention to Rosalind. I am greatly concerned about her failing health. At times, I am consumed with guilt because my duties afford me such little time to spend with her. And I fear of late, she cares not whether she lives or dies.
Rosalind, her expression bewildered, stared him. Why, she wondered, did he believe that she, someone he did not even know, cared to hear the details of his family’s troubles?
My two housekeepers already have far too many chores, which prevent them from tending to my wife’s needs,
Elias continued. ’Twould greatly please my wife to have a companion solely to see to her care.
He paused to retrieve a handkerchief from his waistcoat, then used it to dab at the beads of perspiration that dotted his brow. Your mother tells me you have a strong spirit and a kind heart, Mistress Chandler, as well as boundless energy. We both believe you would make a perfect companion for my Abigail.
I?
Rosalind’s eyebrows arched. You wish for me to be a companion to your wife?
’Tis a great honor that the magistrate wishes to entrust his wife’s care to you, is it not?
her mother interrupted. Granted, ‘twill be no small task, but Mr. Corwin and I have every faith in you.
Before Rosalind could speak, Elias added, You will be provided with a bedchamber adjoining my wife’s and I shall pay you a fair wage. You will lack for naught, you have my word.
Rosalind did not know how to respond, especially when she realized she would be expected to live with the Corwins and become part of their family. She had no desire whatsoever to leave her own family, nor did she wish to live with a fearsome man who whipped children, and an ailing woman who no longer cared whether she lived or died.
May I be allowed some time to consider it?
Rosalind softly asked.
Her mother visibly blanched at her words. Rosalind!
Her tone was firm, inviting no argument. The magistrate has made you a most kind and generous offer, and you will gratefully accept it!
Yes, Mother,
she whispered, her eyes downcast.
Excellent!
Elias clasped his hands together. I shall anticipate your arrival on the morrow, then!
Rosalind’s head snapped up. So soon?
Nellie, Elizabeth and I shall help you pack,
her mother hastily offered, then turned to Elias. She will commence her duties bright and early.
Fine, fine.
He nodded. "Abigail will be so pleased to hear the news!"
Rosalind forced a weak smile. She felt as if she were a choice cow that had just been auctioned off to the highest bidder. And was she just imagining it, she wondered, or had her mother seemed just a bit too eager to be rid of her? Rosalind had predicted that Ben’s wedding day would bring about a change in her life, but certainly not one of this magnitude.
Well, she thought, she had vowed never to become any man’s dutiful wife, so why not become some woman’s dutiful nurse and companion? Perhaps, she reasoned, her work at the Corwins’ would, if little else, serve to provide her with some small sense of accomplishment. And although she prayed for God’s forgiveness for even thinking it, there always was the possibility her stay at the Corwins’ might be only a brief one if Abigail’s health worsened…and the woman died.
* * * * *
The sun barely had begun its ascent the next morning when Rosalind, struggling with her bundles – and to keep her breakfast in her stomach – set out on her journey to the Corwins’ house.
It was approximately an hour’s journey by foot to the Corwins’ estate, but due to her lack of eagerness to reach her destination, she found herself wishing it were a hundred. Her family lived west of town in a small settlement comprised mostly of families who struggled from day to day to get by. They did not possess much more than their parcels of land, gardens and simple, sparsely furnished houses with thatched roofs and dirt floors. The Corwins, however, lived in an area of Eastwell where the affluent and successful dwelled. Rosalind wondered how she ever would fit in with such people, for she had little in common with them.
She had lain awake most of the previous night, apprehension knotting her stomach until the pain had become nearly unbearable. It was no wonder her stomach ached, she thought. In the space of twelve short hours, her mother had cast her from the only home she had ever known and thrust her into the arms of strangers.
She deliberately walked slowly, not only because she wanted to delay her arrival, but also because she wanted to memorize every tree, house, wildflower and field along the way, for fear she might not see them again for a very long time. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the fresh spring air, not knowing when or if she would be allowed any time outdoors at the Corwins’, especially if Abigail was bedridden and unable to leave her chamber.
You look as though you could use a bit of help.
Rosalind spun around to face her brother.
Ben!
She dropped her bundles and ran to embrace him. What brings you here?
’Tis not safe for a woman to go wandering about alone,
he answered. Too abruptly he broke away from her and bent to pick up her belongings. Besides, I thought you might be in need of some encouragement.
That I am. In fact, I am sorely tempted to march right back home, crawl into bed and pull the quilt over my head!
Ben spared her a tired smile. Rosalind thought he looked as though he had not slept at all, which she supposed was understandable, considering the previous night had been his wedding night. Unlike most unwed young women, Rosalind was well aware of what occurred on wedding nights. On more than one occasion she had overheard her brother and his friends, two of whom already were wed, discussing such matters in some detail, especially as Ben’s wedding day grew nearer.
Why are you not with Faith on this, the first morning of your marriage?
Rosalind asked her brother. The two of them walked side by side along the winding dirt path that snaked through a forest of thick pines. Rosalind welcomed the pine-scented air, hoping it might help to calm her stomach.
Ben sighed. Truth be known, from the moment I awoke this morn, I was eager for some excuse to leave the house.
Rosalind halted, her eyes widening. But why?
Ben continued walking at a rapid pace. You would not understand.
Rosalind had to run to catch up with him. How do you know I will not understand unless you first tell me what it is?
Again, he sighed. Please, just do me the favor of paying no mind to what I said.
You say you are eager to leave your new wife on the very morn after your wedding and now you want me to simply forget it? How do you propose I do that?
Ben ceased walking but did not turn to look at her. ’Tis just that in my eagerness to consummate our marriage last night, I did not allow Faith time to…prepare…sufficiently for me. As a result, I caused her undue pain…and now she recoils from my touch.
Rosalind regarded him with obvious puzzlement. Granted, she knew what occurred on wedding nights, but she was not familiar with what he so awkwardly was attempting to tell her.
By what means does a woman ‘prepare’ for her husband?
she asked.
Ben looked up at the sky and shook his head. Did I not tell you that you would not understand?
He resumed walking.
Rosalind fell into step at his side. "Then you must make me understand!"
’Tis best if you wait for your husband to teach you of such personal matters. ’Tis not my place to do so.
"How many times must I tell you there never will be a husband?" Rosalind snapped.
Oh, do not be so certain,
Ben said. For what reason do you think Mother practically begged Magistrate Corwin to employ you as his wife’s companion?
Rosalind stopped abruptly and grasped her brother’s arm. What are you saying?
He turned to look at her. ’Tis quite simple, my dear sister. Mother is hoping that during your time at the Corwins’ you will attract the attention of either Matthew or Nathaniel. She, not unlike any other mother of an unwed daughter between here and Boston, would be pleased beyond words to see you wed to a Corwin. That is why she purposely sought out the magistrate at the wedding yesterday and convinced him of your worth!
Rosalind’s mouth fell open. You are wrong! Mother would never send me away to live with strangers solely because she wants me to find a rich husband!
Oh, but indeed she would! She confessed as much to me herself. Is it so wrong of her to want the best for her first-born daughter? If you are fortunate enough to wed a Corwin, you will want for naught for the rest of your life.
"But I do not want to wed a Corwin! Nor any other man, for that matter! Why does no one believe that?"
Do not be so eager to seal your fate.
Ben swatted at a fly that landed on his cheek. You have not yet made the acquaintance of either Matthew or Nathaniel. Who knows? You might fall hopelessly in love with one of them at first sight.
Do not be absurd! My duty is to care for Mrs. Corwin, not bat my eyelashes at her sons. Besides, ‘tis common knowledge the lads’ appearances at home are as rare as udders on a bull! I may never even have the opportunity to meet either of them.
Ah, I believe ‘tis fate,
Ben said, smiling. I hear tell that Nathaniel has been home from the sea since three days past.
Rosalind rolled her eyes and once again continued to walk. ’Tis no concern of mine whether Nathaniel Corwin is at home or is off hunting for whales, or whatever it is he does while on his voyages. He and I shall get along just fine if he has the good sense to keep out of my way.
Do you not realize how many young women would chop off their right hands to be in your position at this very moment? You should be grateful to Mother for what she has done for you.
"I am grateful. But I fear she will be sorely disappointed when I return home without a Corwin on my arm."
CHAPTER TWO
Welcome, Mistress Chandler!
Elias Corwin greeted her with a broad smile. Come in, come in!
He swung open the thick oak door and gestured for her and Ben to enter.
Rosalind’s legs felt suddenly weak as she followed Mr. Corwin into the spacious sitting room. Fatigue was causing her unsteadiness, she convinced herself, not the fear of living in an unfamiliar house filled with unfamiliar faces.
How kind of you to accompany your sister here, Benjamin,
Elias said, his large hand clasping Ben’s shoulder, most especially on the morn after your wedding.
’Tis not safe for a woman to be traveling alone,
Ben said. Not with savages lurking about. I have heard disturbing tales of what they do to young women.
Elias shook his head. While I do not entirely trust them, I fear that most of those tales of horror have been greatly exaggerated.
Be they exaggeration or not,
Ben said, I wish to take no chances.
Please, be seated,
Elias said to the pair. You must be weary from your journey. I shall have Grace fetch some food and drink.
Ben set the bundles on the floor, then he and Rosalind seated themselves opposite each other on two benches with red velvet cushions.
As if on cue, a plump woman with gray-streaked brown hair partially tucked beneath a white cap entered the room. She nodded in response to Mr. Corwin’s orders, then disappeared as quickly as she had entered.
Rosalind was awed by the size and elegance of the Corwins’ sitting room. Several benches and stools, decorated with plush, embroidered cushions, surrounded a table made of a dark, polished wood. Ornate brass andirons and tongs complemented the massive stone fireplace, and an intricately carved cupboard with glass doors stood in the corner. Near the front door, a polished pewter cistern with matching candlestick holders sat on a small round table. Rosalind cast a glance at her brother and sensed by his expression he was as impressed by their surroundings as she was.
I am eager for you to meet my wife,
Elias said, lowering his bulk onto a stool. You cannot imagine Abigail’s delight when I informed her you would be arriving today, Mistress Chandler.
I look forward to meeting her also,
Rosalind said, praying her words sounded more sincere than she actually felt.
Grace, balancing a tray that held several pitchers and mugs, entered the room. She set it down on the table and said, There is ale, cool water and cider. Also some fruit tarts, if you are hungry.
Rosalind’s stomach still was too knotted for her to accept anything more than the water, but Ben ate and drank with such relish, she found it difficult to conceal her embarrassment. So intent was her brother on filling his stomach, he paid little attention to Elias’s attempts at casual conversation. On more than one occasion, Ben lifted his head and stared blankly at his host in response to the man’s questions. Rosalind suspected that in Ben’s haste to leave his new bride that morning, he had not paused to eat breakfast – which would explain his sudden lust for cider and tarts.
The unexpected slam of the front door caused all eyes to turn toward the entrance. Even Ben momentarily ceased eating to peer over his shoulder.
Oh, forgive my interruption,
the intruder apologized. He was a young man – tall and solidly lean with thick, light-brown hair. I was not aware you were entertaining guests.
Nathaniel!
Elias rose to his feet. Your entrance could not be better timed! Come here, son, and meet your mother’s new companion!
Nathaniel stepped into the sitting room and flashed a smile at Rosalind. She noticed his even, white teeth and the two dimples that punctuated his smile. He was perfect- looking, she thought…too perfect.
Allow me to present Captain Nathaniel Corwin, my elder son.
Elias’s expression could not disguise his pride. Nathaniel, this is Mistress Rosalind Chandler and her brother, Benjamin.
Nathaniel stepped forward and grasped Ben’s hand for a vigorous handshake, then moved toward Rosalind. Taking her hand into his, he bowed, then allowed his hazel gaze to linger on her face. I am certain your presence here, Mistress Chandler, will bring a breath of fresh air to our home.
Ben caught his sister’s eye and winked teasingly at her. She responded with a glare.
Thank you for your kind words, sir,
Rosalind said as Nathaniel straightened to his full height. She spared him a slight smile.
I also have a good feeling about this young lady,
Elias added. I truly believe she will do wonders for Abigail.
Aye,
Nathaniel concurred. Mother cannot help but benefit from the company of someone so…lovely.
Both he and his father smiled at Rosalind.
Sensing his sister’s discomfort, Ben decided to put an end to the men’s conversation before they nominated her for sainthood. If you will excuse me,
he announced and rose to his feet, I really must be getting on my way. I do not want my new bride to think I have deserted her.
I understand,
Elias responded with a knowing smile. New brides do require a good deal of attention.
Ben’s words caused a look of panic to settle on Rosalind’s face. She did not want her brother to leave her – not yet – not until she felt a good deal more at ease in her new home. She stood and directed a pleading look in Ben’s direction, praying he would sense just how desperately she wanted him to stay.
Ben moved toward Rosalind, then leaned to give her a brief embrace. Do not worry,
he whispered against her ear. You will be just fine.
He straightened and turned to face Elias. May I be permitted to visit my sister on occasion?
Rosalind thought his request made her sound as if she were a prisoner…which was exactly what she felt like at that moment.
By all means, lad,
Elias said. Perhaps you and your new bride might do us the honor of supping with us some evening soon.
It would indeed be an honor,
Ben said with a nod. Please, give my regards to Mrs. Corwin.
Would you care to meet my wife ere you depart?
Elias asked.
Rosalind silently willed her brother to delay his departure and agree to the meeting.
Although I am eager to meet your wife,
Ben said, I really must return home posthaste. When next I visit, I shall look forward to an introduction.
* * * * *
Rosalind stood and gazed at the door for long moments after her brother had departed. She truly was alone now, she thought, deserted in a house full of strangers. Biting at her bottom lip, she fought the urge to run after Ben and join him on his journey home.
You and your brother appear to be very close,
Elias broke the silence.
Aye…we are.
Rosalind reluctantly turned away from the door. Though barely four years separate us in age, he has always seemed like a second father to me – even more so since our own father’s passing. Ben possesses the wisdom of someone far beyond his years.
Well then, it somehow seems fitting that both of you are beginning your new lives on the very same day,
Elias said, smiling. Shall I show you to your chamber now? I imagine you would like to get settled in ere you meet Abigail.
Rosalind nodded and stooped to gather her belongings, but Nathaniel blocked her efforts.
Allow me to carry those for you,
he said, collecting her bundles. Before she could respond, he already was ascending the staircase. Rosalind had been so preoccupied with her brother’s exit, she had forgotten the captain still was in the room.
Rosalind’s bedchamber bore no resemblance whatsoever to the cluttered space she shared with her two sisters back home. She stared in awe at the canopied featherbed with its embroidered quilt and thick, fluffy pillows. A tall chest of drawers stood against one wall, and a round table with a floral design carved into it sat next to the head of the bed. Rosalind was especially pleased to see a full-length brass-trimmed looking glass against the wall. Few people, save for the very rich, were able to afford such a luxury. There were two doors in the chamber – the one through which she had entered from the hallway, and another in the back corner, which she assumed led to Abigail’s chamber.
Nathaniel set Rosalind’s belongings on the bed, then turned to face her. After you have had the opportunity to meet my mother, ‘twould greatly please me to guide you on a tour of the grounds. The sooner you become familiar with everything here, the sooner you will come to feel like a member of our family.
Rosalind appreciated the Corwins’ efforts to make her feel as though she belonged and could easily fit in and adapt to their way of life, but in truth, she did not want to feel like a member of the family. She already had a family – a perfectly acceptable one – which she missed more and more with each passing minute.
She mustered a smile and looked up at Nathaniel. Thank you for your offer, Captain Corwin. I am indeed eager to learn all I can about my new home. A tour of the grounds would be greatly appreciated.
Please, call me Nathaniel,
he said. May I call you Rosalind?
His eyes caught hers and held them.
If you wish,
she replied, although she had strong misgivings about encouraging such familiarity. After Ben’s taunting about snaring a Corwin for her husband, she felt even more compelled to keep her relationship with the captain as formal as possible.
Not that a man like Nathaniel ever would consider courting her, the family’s help, anyway, she thought. She felt certain Nathaniel’s ideal bride would be an affluent, elegant woman, not someone who shared a bed with her two sisters in a cluttered two-room house with dirt floors. Nor would his future mother-in-law be a woman who earned a few coins by mending and washing other people’s garments. Rosalind knew that her mother and Ben both believed her to possess all of the qualities necessary to capture the heart of a Corwin man, but she wondered how quickly their confidence in her would be dashed if they knew the secret that constantly nagged at her…the secret she intended to take with her to the grave. Even if, by some miracle, she