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La Belle Christiane

2011 Copyright by Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Chapter Twenty-Two Scene 1

Once again–with the same desk between them–General Washington and Major Eastham sat, facing each other. “I am glad you came so promptly, Major.”

“Thank you, sir, I have been waiting to hear from you. I take it that you have heard from your friend in London?”

“Yes, I have.” The general held up the letter.

“Well, sir, am I married or not?” John’s blithe tone hid his very real irritation at having his word questioned. “I have been anxious to find out.”

“You are not. All that you told me is true.”

“I am very relieved. Having a wife and a child in London would be a grave trial to me just now.”

“I wonder how Christiane ever got the idea that you were married?”

“We discussed that. I believe, she misinterpreted a remark she overheard,” he said it calmly, but her betrayal still jabbed him.

“Ah.” There was a pause. “What are your plans then?” The stern eyes locked onto the major’s face.

“I plan to resign my commission and with your permission return to Mt. Vernon to make Christiane my wife.” Though he seriously doubted she would marry him. But at least he would have the satisfaction of confronting her. He tried not to think about who the father was of the child? Had she been unfaithful to him in Philadelphia? He couldn’t believe that, but….

Washington did not try to hide his smile. “Good. Good. A wise decision. I have already written you a letter of safe conduct and a letter of explanation to my wife. As a private citizen, you will not need an escort.”

“Thank you, sir, it will be a pleasure to visit your charming wife again. Your estate is truly lovely.”

“Thank you.” The General beamed with pride. “I only wish I could accompany you. Well, I believe that takes care of our business.” He rose to shake hands. “My best wishes to the both of you.” As the major turned to leave, Washington spoke again, “By the way, I just want you to know, the junior officers learned about this matter from Lt. Farnsworth, your escort last fall.”

“Oh?”

“Their sympathy, of course, was with Mrs. Kruger, so they held a competition this winter.”

“A competition?”

“Yes, to decide which one would be the most able to best you in a duel. They believed that you were married or that you would refuse to marry her. They intended to defend her honor.”

“I see.”

“Therefore, if anyone approaches you and tries to challenge you as you leave, inform them of your intentions.”

“I will, sir.”

#

A few days later Eastham and Alfred rode slowly down the country road. The spring drizzle had made the ground muddy and hard-to-travel. Their canvas mackintoshes covered them, but the light rain beaded and dripped from their hats and occasionally down the backs of their necks.

Alfred wished they had spent the day at the cozy inn of this morning, but he knew how anxious his lordship was to reach Mt. Vernon. He felt deeply his own part in causing the misunderstanding that had led the lady to disappear. Lord Eastham had been gracious about it as usual and had excused Alfred’s verbal slip by saying that it was his own fault for lying in the first place. “How much farther, do you think, my lord?” Alfred said before he could stop himself.

“I believe we will make it just before dark.”

Alfred sighed with relief. “Very good, my lord.”

“I agree. And you must be tired of playing the mute?” John smiled. To keep from stirring notice, Alfred had posed as a mute. After ten years in the colonies, the major had been able to adopt the colonial accent when necessary. Alfred, however, was unmistakably English in speech. And this was not the time for an English lord and his manservant to be travelling the muddy spring roads of Virginia. Now that the peace treaty was being worked on in Paris, revolutionary zeal was at its peak. Previous fence-sitters, now that independence was all but in the bag, were ardent supporters of liberty.

“Yes, my lord. When do you think we will go home to England to Easthaven?”

The question seemed to surprise the major. “Easthaven? I had not really thought about it. All I can think about is Sarah Renee.” And her mother, he added to himself. They rode on in wet chill misery, locating each landmark with relief.

Many hours had passed. The moon was now trying to peek between the shades of vast flat clouds. The chill and dampness of the twilight air had seeped through their layers of clothing and pushed their spirits down. Ahead at last they saw Mt. Vernon. A few candles still shown in the windows.

“We are here,” John announced. At the sight of two grooms coming out of the stable, their tired horses stopped by themselves. The two men slipped down, saddle-weary. Without a word, Alfred headed toward the kitchen while his master loped, stiff-legged, up to the front door.

Breechy, wearing an old robe, waited for him, holding a candle. “Sir, it is good to see you again,” the old butler said correctly in spite of his dress.

“Thank you, Breechy.”

“The ladies of the house have retired. When I saw you coming up the lane, I decided to ask you first before wakening them. Do you need to see them before morning?”

“No. Don’t disturb them please.”

“Very good, sir. I will take you directly to your room then.”

“Thank you.” The butler led the exhausted man up the staircase and into the room he had occupied before.

“Could I just look in on my daughter?” John asked this in a hesitant voice, but he felt no hesitance. He must see his child.

“She has been in bed over four hours, sir.”

“I don’t mean to wake her. I just want to see her.”

“Very well, sir.”

The two slipped silently down the shadowed hall and into Sarah’s room. The butler waited by the door as John took the candle in and stood at his daughter’s bedside. The golden glow of the candle illuminated only her face. Lovingly he noted every detail, every change since he had seen her almost four months ago. How lovely she was and she was his, his own dear child. Had his father stood over him and felt this? No, surely not. But his mother would have understood. Carefully he turned to leave. She sighed in her sleep. The sound, just a sigh, touched him deeply.

Back in his room, servants came and went quietly making him a fire, bringing him hot food and drink, a steaming foot bath, and warming his sheets with a copper pan. At last he lay content and relaxed in the large featherbed. He watched the fire. His Sarah was only yards away. Suddenly an image of Christiane came to his mind. His brow wrinkled. Exhausted, he fell asleep.

At last! But what will Christiane have to say when she finds out THE TRUTH???

Our winners of Rachel Hauck’s two prizes are Juanita Wickey  who won a copy of Softly and Tenderly and Gail Kittleson who won the $10 Amazon gift card! I must tell you that Rachel had intended to only give away gifts to a winner from all the blogs she was guesting on last week combined. BUT since this blog had so many commenters, she decided to give away prizes to two additional here. I’m so happy when you readers turn out to support a guest offer. Coming Thursday is Ann Gabhart and she is also offering a copy of her latest Shaker novel Don’t miss Thursday!–Lyn

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