Page 119 of Dawnlands

“I told them, ‘Yes, in a way.’ Was I wrong?”

She shook her head, her eyes warm. “No, you were right. It was a great love. It makes me happy now, to think that I had it. Even if it was for so short a time.”

“You don’t regret it? It cost you so much?”

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m glad to have loved like that. Even if it was not forever. It is still something—to have loved a man like that. Someone so strange as to be almost from another world.”

She saw the tenderness in his face. “You’re worth ten of him.”

“I was lucky,” she corrected him. “I was luckier than him to know that it was the love of my life, while he thought it was something that could be made ordinary. He always wanted to fit me into his life. But our love could never have been in his world. It really was part of mermaids and faeries.”

They were silent for a moment. “You’d best drop a word in young Matthew’s ear that there’s to be no mermaids and faeries for him this summer.”

Alinor knew at once he was referring to the two girls. “I don’t think he could choose between them. They’re such friends.”

“You’d better tell him they’re not for the likes of him. And the Lord knows, we don’t want his mother the Nobildonna calling on our Sarah as his mother-in-law.”

“She’ll have a duchess lined up for him,” she predicted. “But I’ll remind him that he’s too young to be thinking of love or marriage; and they certainly are.”

Alinor waited until they were all four walking in the herb garden. Mia and Gabrielle were ahead of them, with a pair of scissors and a basket, cutting leaves for drying and for flavoring oils. The girls were in plain country dresses, their faces shaded with the enormous sun hats that their mother had sent from Venice and insisted that they wear to keep their skin as fair as possible. Alinor and Matthew could hear their voices but not make out their words. Alinor saw how his gaze followed them, and his smile.

“They’re lovely girls,” she said. “They’ve brightened your uncle Ned’s visit here. He suggested a game of cards this evening, and that’s the first time he’s felt well enough to play.”

“That’s good,” he said courteously. “Do you want us to lose to him?”

She smiled. “No. He’d not want an injustice, even at the card table.” She nodded towards the girls. “They’ll start school in the Michaelmasterm,” she said. “You won’t have to take them to Rob’s house anymore. You’ll be spared the walk.”

“I like taking them,” he said. “And I’ve promised to take them to visit Hester even after school starts.”

“I’m glad,” Alinor agreed. “I’m sure she’s enjoyed their company. But don’t get too fond of them, Matthew. They’re too young to be thinking of marriage, their father wouldn’t like it, and for sure, your mother, the Nobildonna, would never forgive us if she thought we had entrapped you.”

“Entrapped me!” he exclaimed.

“You’re quite a catch now,” she told him with a smile. “The heir to all this.” Her gesture took in the beautiful walled garden, the old house, and the broad sky above them. “The name that you carry, and your education, especially if that leads you to higher things. You don’t come from a trading family like us; no doubt your mother has plans for you.”

“They’d never think of me anyway.” He turned to her and caught her hand. “Mother Alinor, d’you not see a great love for me?”

She closed her eyes and put her fingers to both her temples, and then opened her eyes to laugh at him. “I do! I do!”

“Who am I going to marry?”

“A princess,” she told him. “Nothing less would satisfy your mother.”

His dark gaze rested on the girls, who were coming towards them down the path, their baskets heaped with the violet heads of lavender flowers. “I know it’s not possible,” he said quietly. “I know that.”

DEEP CAVE, BARBADOS, AUTUMN 1686

Dora Peabody’s dog, a bad-tempered pug named Troilus, ran off following a scent one afternoon, and she declared that she would not sleep all night unless he was returned. Someone must be sent to find him and bring him home. Samuel Peabody started to say that nobody could be trusted to go running through the plantations at dusk and that no doubt the little brute was off chasing rats and would return, but Dora showed him a sulky stubborn face.

“My papa gave him to me,” she said. “He’s very valuable. He won’t be chasing rats, he’ll be lost.” She pointed a silver fork at Rowan. “He can go after him,” she said.

“He does the night watch on the house and patrols the slave quarters,” Samuel Peabody protested. “He can’t go off the plantation at night.”

“Why not?” She turned to Rowan. “You’d find little Troy for me, won’t you? Find him for me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rowan answered promptly, and when Samuel Peabody glowered at her, she said: “If you wish, sir.”

“Oh, go,” Mr. Peabody said irritably. “Go now, if you’re going. Take a musket with you and keep a sharp eye. I’ll have to sit up myself tonight,” he complained to his wife. “I’ll have to sit up to make sure that you sleep safely, while the man who should be on watch is chasing off after a little dog.”