The Pursuit

  “I would cry,” Niki said, her hand smoothing his hair. “My heart would be broken.”

  “We’ll stay very close,” Christopher reassured her. “We’ll be very careful.”

  “Do you have to go away now?” Richard asked.

  “No, I’m going to be here,” Niki answered, realizing that she’d always done this. She’d always taken extra time with them the night before she had to leave. “I don’t want you to be afraid, but I’m glad you’re being careful.”

  “Uncle Walker says that we don’t have to be afraid because God watches over us.”

  “That’s very true. He does.”

  “Do you believe in God, Mama?”

  “Yes, I do. Do you, Chris?”

  “I think so. I’ve never seen Him.”

  “Well, someone once told me that God can be seen in all He created. Did you know that the Bible says He made the earth and every person and creature that lives on it?”

  The boys looked fascinated by this, and Niki searched for words to explain, realizing how few she had.

  “In the first book of the Bible,” she knew enough to add, “it tells all about what God created. Would you like me to read it to you sometime?”

  The boys nodded in interest, but Niki saw again that they were tired. She kissed them and blew out the lantern, her face looking serene. But as she let herself from the room, her heart wondered if one night a week she should bring them to bed early and read to them from the Book of Genesis.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The nightmare that woke Niki a few hours after she sought her own rest left her sweating and trembling. She knew it was a dream. She knew the sounds and images were all in her mind, but that didn’t stop her next move.

  Reaching for her robe, she exited her room and went to check on her sons. Not until she stood next to their bed and saw firsthand that her mother-in-law had not come and snatched them did her heart begin to calm. She stood for some minutes, her body shaking a bit.

  I told the boys not to be afraid, but I don’t even know how to trust You, Niki’s heart confessed. I see that they’re safe—I see it with my own eyes—yet I still tremble. Niki’s heart fell silent and she breathed deeply. Talking to You is new for me, she admitted. But I thank You that my sons are still here and safe. Please don’t ask me to give them up again. Please help me to keep them safe.

  Niki stood for long moments, working to pray and trust. She might have stood even longer but turned when she heard a noise and saw lantern light at the door. It was Denley. Niki bent low to tuck the covers around the boys a little tighter and joined her servant in the hall.

  “Are they all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you all right, Mrs Bettencourt?”

  “I had a dream, a nightmare, but I’m all right now.”

  “Would you like me to go in with the boys for a time?”

  “No, we’re safe—I realize that. I just needed to see them. Thank you, Denley.”

  Denley gave a small bow and moved down the hall. Niki stood until his lantern light disappeared and her own eyes grew accustomed to the dark once again. Hoping she hadn’t disturbed anyone else, she returned to her room and lay for a time in the dark.

  She settled against her pillow, thinking about God being in all places at all times. It didn’t take long for her to see that right now it was more than she could mentally manage. She curled up on her side and told herself to sleep.

  Pembroke

  “What are you doing, Cassandra?”

  Arms full of books, Cassandra turned to look at her husband, feeling very surprised at his reproving tone.

  “I’m organizing some of my books. I’ve been meaning to for ages.”

  Tate took the large stack from her arms, including the two she held in one hand.

  “I don’t want you lifting or doing heavy jobs,” Tate declared, setting the books on a shelf.

  Cassandra stared at him. Had he really meant that? Did he know how silly he sounded?

  “It’s just a few books,” she said quietly, watching his face.

  “I want you resting. The books will always be here.”

  Cassandra, whose looks usually gave away every thought, continued to watch him with little expression on her face. When Tate looked back, she tried again.

  “You don’t wish me to do this at all, or was I lifting too many books at one time?”

  Cassandra had not meant to sound sarcastic, but the narrowing of Tate’s eyes told her that she hadn’t pulled it off.

  “I don’t want to see you doing this at all,” Tate emphasized, his voice low and quite serious.

  “Can we talk about this, Tate, or is your mind made up?”

  “My mind is made up,” Tate said swiftly, even as the look on his wife’s face gave him pause. He thought Cassandra would be all for this. He thought she would enjoy nine months of resting and being a lady of leisure, but her face and her voice were saying otherwise.

  Nevertheless, Tate reasoned, it’s for the best.

  However, an hour later when Tate couldn’t immediately find Cassandra, he began to have doubts. He looked around the mansion—a large place in anyone’s estimation, and even larger when looking for someone—and finally found her in their bedroom. To his astonishment, she was cleaning and organizing again.

  “Cassandra,” he asked sternly this time. “What are you doing?”

  Cassandra turned with a few undergarments draped over her arm.

  “I’m cleaning out this drawer. It’s overflowing with things I don’t wear.”

  “I thought I made myself clear,” Tate said, even going so far as to remove the shift and petticoat from her grasp. “I want you to rest.”

  “I thought that was just about the books,” Cassandra said quietly, hoping he wasn’t really going to press her on this.

  “I want you resting. Period.”

  Cassandra felt anger rising within her. That this was utter nonsense was only too clear to her, and she planned to tell her husband just how she felt! Her mouth was opening to do just that when Hastings, Tate’s man, came to the door looking for him. Cassandra watched him leave, realizing that she was much too emotional at the moment.

  Just remembering to tell her maid where she was headed, Cassandra grabbed a light wrap and took the back stairs. She walked out the rear door of Pembroke and onto the veranda. Not noticing the lovely blooms all around her, Cassandra began to walk in the garden, working to pray and calm down.

  She traversed the grounds amid hedges and shrubs, walking swiftly but not really taking heed of anything around her. Her mind was nowhere near settled when she looked up to see Tate heading her way.

  The sight of him made her angry all over again. Cassandra stopped, spun in the opposite direction, and walked on. She wanted to discuss this with Tate in a reasonable manner, but she feared if she talked to him right now, she would say things she did not mean.

  Thinking he would understand her need to be alone, Cassandra was visibly startled to suddenly have him overtake her. She jumped and turned to face him, the scare making her even more upset, a fact proven by how red her cheeks had become.

  Tate didn’t immediately notice. Instead he made the mistake of asking for the third time in one day, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting away from your nonsensical rules,” Cassandra said ruthlessly, shocking her husband into silence.

  Cassandra took his silence as understanding and started on her way once again. She didn’t quicken her pace but kept steadily on, taking several minutes to realize Tate was still with her. She stopped and faced him.

  “You’re angry,” he said in surprise.

  “Yes, and if we talk right now, I’m going to say things I’ll regret.”

  Tate stared down at her. His heart had tried to tell him he was going too far, but he’d ignored it.

  Again Cassandra took his silence for compliance or understanding and resumed her walk. Tate stayed with her, but Cassandra didn’t stop or try to
speak. She felt tears fill her eyes and used the back of her hand to swiftly wipe them away.

  Tate saw the movement. If there had been any anger left, it drained away in view of his wife’s distress. He didn’t try to engage her in conversation but kept a steady pace by her side as she walked. In time she slowed, and Tate cast looks in her direction. Cassandra did the same.

  By the time they had made a large circle and were back at the rear of the house, Cassandra was ready to sit down. Tate joined her on the bench, the very bench on which Cassandra had shared her news with him.

  “Are you all right?” Tate asked after a moment of silence.

  Greatly calmed but a little wary, Cassandra answered, “If you’re going to tell me that I can’t go for walks, I’m going to move back in with Henry and Edward until the baby’s born.”

  For some reason this amused Tate. He laughed a little, bringing his wife’s eyes to him.

  “We haven’t handled this very well, have we?” Cassandra asked.

  “No, I’m afraid we haven’t. I thought you would want to rest and lie about.”

  “Why did you think I would?” Cassandra asked, wishing she’d been calm enough to ask him about this to begin with.

  “I don’t know. I certainly never imagined you wanting to organize and stay so busy.”

  “Why is it so important to you, Tate? Why must I rest?”

  Tate shrugged a little, at a loss for words.

  Cassandra waited.

  “I thought it would be best for the baby. And for you,” he finally confessed.

  “How many expectant women have you been around?”

  “None, I guess. I just imagined how it would be. Anne Weston had to rest.”

  “The doctor did not send her to bed until she had signs of strain. Until then she just lived her life. Marianne Jennings did the same thing. I believe Lydia Palmer did as well, and that’s not even mentioning Judith Hurst. None of their pregnancies had complications, at least not serious ones, and for the most part they just lived their lives. I was planning on doing the same.”

  The couple fell silent, Cassandra thinking Tate would have something to add, and Tate musing over what his wife had shared. Cassandra gave Tate a little time but then asked if he was still upset. Before he could answer, Hastings came from the house and approached.

  “Yes, Hastings?”

  “Mrs Morland is here, sir.”

  “Tell her we’ll be right in.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Cassandra looked at her husband, regret filling her for the way she’d been angry with him.

  Tate looked back at Cassandra and shook his head. “We’ll talk about this as soon as Lizzy leaves, all right?”

  “I’m sorry I was angry at you.”

  “And I’m sorry I wouldn’t slow down long enough to listen to you.”

  Tate slid his hand between them on the bench and Cassandra reached for it. Husband and wife rose from the bench together and headed indoors.

  Blackburn Manor

  Niki dismissed the boys from the breakfast table, as they were both finished with their meal. She asked them to remain indoors, but they made sure she was coming to play with them soon. With a promise to do just that, Niki sent them on their way.

  “They certainly talk a lot, Niki,” Walker said quietly when it was just the three adults. “Where do they get that? I know it’s not from you.”

  “Edward Steele said that very thing to me yesterday. I think the boys chatter because Gar and Juliana allow them to.”

  Walker looked thoughtful, and Niki watched him closely.

  “I’m sorry they disturbed your breakfast.”

  “It’s not that, Niki, but a person who chatters incessantly reveals a restless heart. I know they’re still very young, but it would be good if they could understand the importance of being quiet. They need to learn how to be comfortable in silence and have the right thoughts about it.”

  “How do I go about teaching them that?”

  “I think taking time to sit and work on it would be helpful. Have the boys sit, and tell them they can’t speak or wiggle about. I also think that learning a Bible verse might help.”

  “Which verse?”

  “Can I get back to you on that?”

  “Of course,” Niki answered as she reached for her teacup, her heart still thoughtful. After only one sip she added, “I don’t think I’ve ever memorized a verse. You might have to show me how to teach them.”

  “We’ll keep it easy,” he assured her.

  Little conversation was shared as they finished their meal, but as soon as Niki went to check on her sons, Mary Walker spoke to her husband.

  “How do you think she’s doing?”

  “I think she’s doing well. What do you think?”

  “I think she’s remarkably sweet. I wish she and the boys would stay forever.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that, Mary—not unless she can learn to relax.”

  Mary Walker’s eyes widened.

  “You don’t think she’s relaxed?”

  “Not very often. She worries after the boys—and with good reason—but it’s more than that.”

  Mary waited for her husband to elaborate, but he didn’t. She could have pressed him on the subject, but something held her back. With a mental shrug, she realized it didn’t matter. Just being aware of Niki’s tension was helpful. Mary would pray about that very thing, but she would also be watchful of it herself.

  “Do you boys know what this book is?” Walker asked of the twins.

  The boys looked at the Bible that he had open in his hands, and Christopher said, “It’s a Bible. Mama read to us at Christmas.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. Did she also tell you that God has written this book so we can know about Him?”

  “We know about God,” Christopher volunteered.

  “What do you know, Christopher?”

  “Mama prays to Him.”

  “Yes, she does. Why do you think she does that?”

  The boys shrugged, not ready with an answer.

  Walker looked to Niki.

  “Do you want to tell the boys?”

  “Certainly. I pray to God for many reasons, but especially because the Bible commands us to pray and also so I’ll learn to trust Him. I ask Him to take care of me and my family.”

  “That’s an important thing to do,” Walker praised her. “And it’s also important to memorize verses from the Bible. And so today I want you boys to learn a verse with me. Do you think you can do that?”

  They looked a little confused, but Walker continued.

  “The Bible is organized into books, chapters, and verses. The book I’ve turned to right now is one of my favorites. It’s called the Book of Proverbs, and I’m in chapter eight of the book. Can I read the sixth verse to you?”

  Rather fascinated now, the boys nodded and leaned a bit closer.

  “‘Hear; for I will speak of excellent things, and the opening of my lips shall be right things.’ What was the first word I read?”

  “‘Hear.’”

  “What’s another word for ‘hear’?”

  “‘Listen.’” Richard knew right away.

  “Very good, Rich. There are many other good words in this verse, but for right now I just want you to memorize, ‘“Hear,” Proverbs 8:6.’ Can you say it with me?”

  “‘Hear,’ Proverbs 8:6,” Richard said, but Christopher remained quiet.

  “Can you try it, Chris?” his mother asked, watching his small face.

  “Is it ‘listen’ or ‘hear’?” he asked.

  “Either one,” Walker told him, “because both remind us to stop talking and pay attention.”

  Understanding dawned on the little boy’s face, and all at once he became very interested. Walker spent the next ten minutes with the boys, going over the verse and telling them a little bit more about the Bible. Both boys were very receptive.

  Niki didn’t have a lot to say, but she had the distinct impression that if
she suggested reading to the boys from Genesis before bed, they would be all for it.

  Pembroke

  The day had run away from them. Tate and Cassandra’s plans to talk had been interrupted time and again. Now Tate climbed the stairs for bed, knowing it would have to wait until morning. Cassandra had retired an hour earlier and was sure to be asleep.

  Tate slipped quietly into the bedroom and shut the door, suddenly realizing he was wrong. Sitting with the lantern turned low, a book open on her lap, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, Cassandra sat against the headboard of the bed, quietly reading.

  She didn’t hear her husband right away, and Tate, wanting to stand and watch her for a moment, didn’t speak. Several seconds passed before she looked up.

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  Tate pushed away from the door.

  “I thought you would be asleep.”

  “I think I did sleep for a bit, but then I woke up and you still weren’t here.”

  “Tibby cut her hand in the kitchen. Hastings saw to it, but I had planned to speak to him about the holes in the drive tonight, so I waited.”

  “You must be tired,” Cassandra said as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  “A little.”

  The couple looked at each other.

  “I love you,” Tate said after a moment.

  “I love you,” Cassandra said.

  “Earlier today I asked you to take it easy. I thought I would be able to relax about your activities as long as I knew you were taking this seriously and not taxing yourself, but then I realized that’s rather insulting. You do take this seriously, and you would never do anything foolish to endanger your life or the baby’s.”

  “That was a nice compliment.”

  “But it’s true, isn’t it, Cassie?”

  “Yes. I want this baby very much. If I feel uncomfortable or tired, I’ll tell someone or rest, but I think staying active is very good for both of us, and that’s what I planned to do.”

  Tate leaned to kiss her, but he didn’t speak.

  “You’re not saying anything.”

  “I’m still working it out.”