Dawn on a Distant Shore
Page 66
Will cleared his throat softly. "I'm sorry we worried you, cousin."
"You are as mysterious as you ever were," Elizabeth said, getting up to put the bundle on the desk. "But it is too late to interrogate you now. Tomorrow you must find passage. My aunt and Amanda will be waiting for you."
A flickering in Will's normally placid expression and then he turned away from her.
Elizabeth said, "Perhaps it would be better not to trouble my aunt with the details. I expect that otherwise she might make things rather difficult for you."
He laughed softly. "You cannot begrudge Amanda and me the bit of drama and adventure Lady Crofton brings into our quiet lives. Leave my mother-in-law to me, can you?"
"I have little choice," Elizabeth agreed. And then, more soberly: "I will miss you, Will."
With an abrupt movement he turned back to her. "You are not the only one with a confession to make, Elizabeth. Since we left Albany I have been at a loss on how to introduce a rather ... difficult topic, but I see time has run out on me."
Elizabeth let out an awkward laugh. "So dramatic, cousin? You have me worried."
He shook his head. "You needn't worry for me. At least, not so long as I stay out of England, you need not worry for me. You have heard perhaps of the London Corresponding Society?"
Because she could not trust her voice, Elizabeth merely nodded.
"Your expression is priceless, Lizzy."
"Will," Elizabeth said. "Are you telling me that you are one of the gentlemen charged with advocating revolution on the French model?"
He flushed. "Revolution? But of course not, Elizabeth. The society prefers the term "reform."" He rubbed his forehead and allowed himself a small smile, just a glimpse of the old Will she knew so well. "I suppose I should not be surprised that you are familiar with all of this."
"How could I not be? Every newspaper is full of Lord Braxton and his charges." Elizabeth felt slightly dizzy, and she pinched the web of skin between her thumb and first finger until she was more sure of herself.
"I think it would be best if you stayed out of England, after all."
He laughed. "You and your aunt are of one mind, then. Had you not thought it strange that she would come to New-York so suddenly?"
"Is it as bad as all that?"
Will lifted a shoulder. "The worst that has happened thus far is unexpected change of abode. My friend Hardy is worse off--he has just been arrested; I expect they will send him off to Australia."
Elizabeth felt herself growing pale. "Transported!" She thought of Amanda and understood Aunt Merriweather's rush to get Will away from trouble.
"Unfortunately, the situation has gone from bad to worse and I cannot return home. I had hoped to settle here in Canada, but even that seems improbable given recent events. We may well make our home in Albany, or perhaps in New-York City."
"Oh, Will." Elizabeth sat down heavily. "You have kept this from Amanda." It was not a question, but his expression gave her an answer in any case.
"We did not see the need to alarm her before the situation was fully known," he said.
After a long moment, Elizabeth raised her head. "I think it most cruel of you to keep this from her, Will. And unnecessary. She will not break under the truth, after all. But, now. Where do you go? Back to Albany? Was all this talk of meeting in Halifax pretense?"
"No," said Will quietly. "We do meet in Halifax. But your aunt will sail for home, and Amanda and I will turn back to New-York. I had thought that perhaps I could appeal to the captain of the Providence for berth space. Unless you are too disgusted with me to sail on the same ship."
"Will," Elizabeth said, crossly now. "Do not talk such nonsense." She got up and brushed a hand over his shoulder. "I cannot deny that you surprise me--the Corresponding Society! But I admire you for it, truly I do. And I shall not mind having my family nearby. By all means, you must come along with us to the Providence and speak to the captain. You do know that I will want all the particulars of this business?"
"If you will tell me the story of the Tory gold, Elizabeth, I will give you the details of the London Corresponding Society. I don't doubt whose story will be more interesting." He gave her a half-smile. "It is a relief to have this out in the open, cousin. But now I must away to bed."
"Will we see you tomorrow at the Providence?"
"You may count on it," said Will. "I would not miss it for the world."
As tired as she was--and it was the kind of weariness that ached deep in the bone--Elizabeth knew that she would not rest easy until they were safely on board the Providence and out of Canada. She would have been glad of Runs-from-Bears' company while she waited for the men to return, but he went off yawning to one of the side cabins. With some irritation, Elizabeth sat down on the feather bed to see if it would serve, and promptly fell asleep without putting up any struggle at all.
Dreams plagued her. On a forest path a red dog ran ahead to disappear into a vast marsh of dead trees hung with moss like ruined bridal veils. Elizabeth called and called, Treenie, Treenie!, but the dog was gone out of hearing. And then, without any warning, she was paddling a raft as it bumped and careened down the Richelieu. People crowded in: Tim Card wearing a necklace of stones, Hannah wrapped in a striped blanket like the one on the bed at home, Miss Thompson who had taught her to read so long ago in the Oakmere nursery. The raft rocked wildly and the wood began to melt like ice under their feet.
"You are as mysterious as you ever were," Elizabeth said, getting up to put the bundle on the desk. "But it is too late to interrogate you now. Tomorrow you must find passage. My aunt and Amanda will be waiting for you."
A flickering in Will's normally placid expression and then he turned away from her.
Elizabeth said, "Perhaps it would be better not to trouble my aunt with the details. I expect that otherwise she might make things rather difficult for you."
He laughed softly. "You cannot begrudge Amanda and me the bit of drama and adventure Lady Crofton brings into our quiet lives. Leave my mother-in-law to me, can you?"
"I have little choice," Elizabeth agreed. And then, more soberly: "I will miss you, Will."
With an abrupt movement he turned back to her. "You are not the only one with a confession to make, Elizabeth. Since we left Albany I have been at a loss on how to introduce a rather ... difficult topic, but I see time has run out on me."
Elizabeth let out an awkward laugh. "So dramatic, cousin? You have me worried."
He shook his head. "You needn't worry for me. At least, not so long as I stay out of England, you need not worry for me. You have heard perhaps of the London Corresponding Society?"
Because she could not trust her voice, Elizabeth merely nodded.
"Your expression is priceless, Lizzy."
"Will," Elizabeth said. "Are you telling me that you are one of the gentlemen charged with advocating revolution on the French model?"
He flushed. "Revolution? But of course not, Elizabeth. The society prefers the term "reform."" He rubbed his forehead and allowed himself a small smile, just a glimpse of the old Will she knew so well. "I suppose I should not be surprised that you are familiar with all of this."
"How could I not be? Every newspaper is full of Lord Braxton and his charges." Elizabeth felt slightly dizzy, and she pinched the web of skin between her thumb and first finger until she was more sure of herself.
"I think it would be best if you stayed out of England, after all."
He laughed. "You and your aunt are of one mind, then. Had you not thought it strange that she would come to New-York so suddenly?"
"Is it as bad as all that?"
Will lifted a shoulder. "The worst that has happened thus far is unexpected change of abode. My friend Hardy is worse off--he has just been arrested; I expect they will send him off to Australia."
Elizabeth felt herself growing pale. "Transported!" She thought of Amanda and understood Aunt Merriweather's rush to get Will away from trouble.
"Unfortunately, the situation has gone from bad to worse and I cannot return home. I had hoped to settle here in Canada, but even that seems improbable given recent events. We may well make our home in Albany, or perhaps in New-York City."
"Oh, Will." Elizabeth sat down heavily. "You have kept this from Amanda." It was not a question, but his expression gave her an answer in any case.
"We did not see the need to alarm her before the situation was fully known," he said.
After a long moment, Elizabeth raised her head. "I think it most cruel of you to keep this from her, Will. And unnecessary. She will not break under the truth, after all. But, now. Where do you go? Back to Albany? Was all this talk of meeting in Halifax pretense?"
"No," said Will quietly. "We do meet in Halifax. But your aunt will sail for home, and Amanda and I will turn back to New-York. I had thought that perhaps I could appeal to the captain of the Providence for berth space. Unless you are too disgusted with me to sail on the same ship."
"Will," Elizabeth said, crossly now. "Do not talk such nonsense." She got up and brushed a hand over his shoulder. "I cannot deny that you surprise me--the Corresponding Society! But I admire you for it, truly I do. And I shall not mind having my family nearby. By all means, you must come along with us to the Providence and speak to the captain. You do know that I will want all the particulars of this business?"
"If you will tell me the story of the Tory gold, Elizabeth, I will give you the details of the London Corresponding Society. I don't doubt whose story will be more interesting." He gave her a half-smile. "It is a relief to have this out in the open, cousin. But now I must away to bed."
"Will we see you tomorrow at the Providence?"
"You may count on it," said Will. "I would not miss it for the world."
As tired as she was--and it was the kind of weariness that ached deep in the bone--Elizabeth knew that she would not rest easy until they were safely on board the Providence and out of Canada. She would have been glad of Runs-from-Bears' company while she waited for the men to return, but he went off yawning to one of the side cabins. With some irritation, Elizabeth sat down on the feather bed to see if it would serve, and promptly fell asleep without putting up any struggle at all.
Dreams plagued her. On a forest path a red dog ran ahead to disappear into a vast marsh of dead trees hung with moss like ruined bridal veils. Elizabeth called and called, Treenie, Treenie!, but the dog was gone out of hearing. And then, without any warning, she was paddling a raft as it bumped and careened down the Richelieu. People crowded in: Tim Card wearing a necklace of stones, Hannah wrapped in a striped blanket like the one on the bed at home, Miss Thompson who had taught her to read so long ago in the Oakmere nursery. The raft rocked wildly and the wood began to melt like ice under their feet.
