It's Hard to Refuse You
Chapter 14
Felicity was more or less her old self by the end of the week. Her bruises faded from dark blackish purple to yellowish green. Her head and shoulder still ached a bit, especially when she moved too quickly, but she was improving.
She did not see Mr. Galt when he came to town. She did not wish to, and he did not wish to speak to her. Ben and Charles had tried to keep his visit to Williamsburg short and to the point. There were very few people left in town that old Mr. Galt still knew anyway, and no one wanted to cause a scene. As far as he knew his son had been planning to leave town, and had been killed in an accident when his overloaded wagon had crashed, and that was it. The most dedicated gossips of Williamsburg had not wanted to start shoveling dirt around the broken old man.
Ben and Felicity met a few people at the inn during her convalescence who had been lucky enough to be in attendance at George Washington's plantation, Mount Vernon, when Washington's old friend, Lafayette had visited there in August. Felicity could not get enough of their descriptions of the Marquis, of whom she was still very fond.
On October 28th, 1784, the family left Williamsburg for what many of them knew would be the last time. Mr. Merriman, growing feeble now, slowly toured the town with Polly and Nan during the days before they left, looking intently at places he used to frequent, empty homes that had belonged to friends, bits of road that were as familiar as his children's faces. Mr. Merriman walked through the house slowly. There was little left in it. Most of his former possessions had been sent to the plantation, or dispersed to people he knew and loved, but each door, mantle and window drew his interest. During this walk through the house, garden and stable, he wanted no one with him. He waved away anyone who tried to join him, as he said goodbye in his own way to the town that had once made him prosperous.
Felicity longed to return to the plantation, to see Elizabeth and Bryce and little Ann, to see the horses in the pastures, and the pantries filled with food, laid away for the winter. The plantation would sustain them, in body and spirit.
She could not wait for Christmas. She longed for pine boughs and holly, for the chance to spoil the children and servants with small gifts, to sing carols and fill the house with the smell of baking, pies and roasting turkeys and hams. She was already planning it in her head, when they left town.
Nan and Charles and Ben smiled as she outlined her ideas, and even Mr. Merriman perked up a bit. Felicity knew the moment he got back, he would be out to the burying ground, to tidy up the plots and tell Martha Merriman all the things he had done since his last visit up to the grave on the hill.
To Felicity's delight, Mr. McIntosh gave to visit shortly after she and Ben arrived back at King's Creek. He had been attending to some business in Yorktown, and had gone out of his way to visit with his friends in Virginia, on his way home to the Carolinas.
"I wish you could have brought Mary," Felicity said wistfully, over a cup of hot cider. "How is she? And how is my little Connor? I want you to bring him to see our stables some time. And Claire…I want Mercy and Ann and Claire to be good friends, as we are. What about coming for Christmas? I think you would all enjoy one of our plantation Christmas feasts."
M. McIntosh laughed. "I would love to bring them. John and Thomas are especially eager to see you again. I think John has a bit of an infatuation for you, Mrs. Davidson, although he would not be pleased to see what you've done to your hair. What happened to your crowning glory?"
Felicity shrugged. "An accident, that is now over and best forgot. It will grow again, perhaps even before you bring the family to see us."
"If I had known you were going to be in Yorktown, I would have told my brother to offer you his hospitality," Ben remarked, but Mr. McIntosh looked grave when Yorktown was mentioned.
"I was glad to get away," he said, as Felicity offered him a piece of his favorite apple pie. "There's illness in the town. Many people are suffering from colds and sore throats. Some say it is cholera starting, and some say the symptoms the townsfolk are suffering are beginning to assume a typhoid character. Stay away from Yorktown, and tell your family there to keep indoors and away from crowds as much as they can."
"Brandon and Louisa and the boys are going to come here for Christmas, too," Felicity told him. "It will do them good to get out of the city."
"Maybe so," he said, "but if any of them feel ill, it would be best for them to stay in the comfort of their own homes."
Ben and Felicity had a party to introduce Mr. McIntosh to some of their neighbors, and even invited the Wentworths. Old Mrs. Wentworth had passed on, but her husband, who had always been more congenial than his wife, was happy to come with his three sons, who had taken over the management of his plantation. The ladies and gentlemen on the neighboring plantations had always been very fond of Felicity's mother, and now that the war was over, were eager to mend the ties that had been strained by that conflict.
The oldest son, Jacob, had a quiet mousy wife named Susan, that Felicity did not find very interesting, and she found the middle son, David, who was witty and quick, to be more fun. The youngest, Edward, was very interested in horses, and so got along quite well with Mr. McIntosh, Felicity and Ben. He was interested in how the plantation had been transformed into a horse breeding farm, but his oldest brother and father were not interested in doing something similar on their land.
To Felicity's delight, Edward seemed quite taken with Polly. Felicity was terrified that her sister would be an old maid, and encouraged her sister to get to know the young man better. They had a lot of fun remembering days gone by on the plantation, and Felicity had all four Wentworth men laughing uproariously when she told them the story of the time she had slipped her itchy stockings down at table and how they had flopped around her ankles when she had followed her grandfather and the other gentleman outside to look at the horses.
Old Mr. Wentworth remembered that day well. "Your grandfather bought you a horse that day, a fine thoroughbred. She had been mistreated and was quite wild. I feared for your life when you ran toward her."
"That was my Penny, my first horse," Felicity said. "I had lost her and feared ever finding her again. That was one of the happiest days of my life."
"I do not remember the horse," said Edward Wentworth, "but I remember my mother saying afterward that you were the most fidgety child she had ever seen."
"Felicity probably was the most fidgety child your mother had ever seen," Polly said, laughing, and Edward laughed with her.
Ben warned Felicity about the dangers of matchmaking attempts backfiring, but to her delight, the two young people seemed to be getting along fine. There was no chance that David would inherit much from his father, but a neighboring plantation was for sale. The couple that had owned it had been friends of Felicity's grandfather, but two of their sons had both died during the war, and the last one was growing old, and could no longer manage the place. Young Edward, more sympathetic to his brother than his father, wanted to join with his brother to buy it and bring it back to life. Together they thought they could manage it.
They were considering asking Mr. Wentworth for their shares of his estate in cash, so that they could begin the work in the following spring. Felicity was hoping old Mr. Wentworth would agree, because if he did, she could see a wedding in her sister's future. A dowry from Polly would certainly help get the plantation back on its feet, and she and Ben would be happy to provide it, if it came to that.
After Samuel McIntosh had gone on his way, Felicity asked Ben if he thought they should invite Louisa and the boys to come to King's Creek right away, instead of waiting. "If it is unhealthy in the town, perhaps they would be better off here," she said.
"Brandon cannot leave his business," Ben said, "and it is too hard a trip for Louisa to make alone with the boys. I will write to them, and ask, but I do not think they will come so soon."
This he did, and Brandon wrote back to them, telling them of the problems in Yorktown. He said the cholera epidemic was affecting many families. He and Louisa were keeping their boys at home, but the children were unhappy in the house, and getting into all sorts of mischief, which was keeping Louisa busy trying to entertain them. Brandon said that when he went to his office, he had to pass death carts rolling down the streets, taking the victims of the epidemic to the town's cemeteries. He hoped that the plague would pass quickly. He and Louisa had discussed leaving town for awhile, but had decided against it. It was not likely that the family would come to visit until after the worst was over.
The next letter filled Felicity with a sense of foreboding. Louisa had been busy in her sewing room, making Brandon a new coat, and the maids, busy with household chores had lost track of the boys who had been playing quietly with each other in their playroom on the second floor of the house. They had slipped out and gone for a walk. A sudden storm had drenched them and they had turned up back at home permeated with cold. They were now both sneezing and coughing, but Brandon assured his brother that it looked like it was just a common cold. Louisa was nursing them herself, although the doctor was coming in every day. Felicity and Ben began to prepare for Christmas, and waited anxiously for word on when their relatives would be well enough to come and visit.
The only good news came from Edward Wentworth, who rode over to visit Polly regularly. He and his brother had convinced their father to stake them to the neighboring plantation, and if the sale went through as planned in the spring, he intended to marry Polly in the fall. Ben discussed the dowry Polly would be bringing to the marriage, and Edward was humbled by the generosity of the Davidsons.
"How do you feel about sharing a home with David?" Felicity asked her sister one day.
"It's what I'm used to," she replied. "And Edward will need a lot of help with the work. I never thought I'd find anyone to love me, and now at last I have. I will finally be able to have a home and children of my own. Since Edward and Father have the same name, we've already decided to name our first child Edward as well."
"You had better hope it is not a girl," Felicity said dryly.
The next letter from Yorktown came in a black-bordered envelope. Both boys had been seized by chills, and despite the best care available had become prostrate. Louisa had battled to save them, giving them regular doses of calomel, and swabbing their sore throats with nitrate of silver, but they had died within days of each other, and exhausted from nursing and overcome by grief and exhaustion, Louisa had also died later the same bleak November week. All three had been buried before the letter even reached the plantation. Brandon would not be coming for Christmas. He was in his own private hell, and didn't have the energy to rouse from it.
Ben and Felicity wept in each other's arms, and then sank into the matching rockers before the fire, as a thousand memories flooded back for each of them. For Ben, a light had gone from the world. The brother who had protected him and strengthened him had not been able to protect his own family. Ben thought of how he would feel if it were his own wife and children, left alone in the darkness of the grave on the hill. Felicity ached for the talented girl who had loved life so much and lived it so well, and for the darling boys who had been so much a part of her life for so long.
The McIntosh family managed to rouse them from their grief long enough to celebrate the season. Mary and Samuel knew that Felicity was a social person, and not the type to enjoy brooding alone. She would, they felt, want as many of her friends around her as possible. So although they had considered canceling their planned trip to the plantation, they decided at last to come. Mary knew her young ones would bring cheer to the dismal house, and in preparing gifts and food for the visitors, Felicity was indeed able to occupy her mind.
All of the McIntosh children were well behaved and as good natured as their parents. It helped to mend Felicity's broken heart to give Samuel and Mary's twelve year old John the knife she had planned to give her nephew, as he had longed for one for several years and appreciated it very much. He hugged Felicity hard, blushing to the roots of his sandy hair, after he opened the package, and she hugged him back just as hard. Nan took ten year old Mary Jane and eight year old Margaret under her wing and began to teach them stitches. Mary Jane could already do a bit of embroidery, but she was very impressed with Nan's skill, which had only improved over the years.
Little Connor went with Felicity to the stables every morning to see the horses, and petite Claire eyed Ann and Mercy with a baby's interest in new people. Matthew and Thomas were inseparable from the moment the carriage arrived. It looked like the children indeed were on their way to becoming good friends.
Charles and Nan, who had received the same letter that Ben and Felicity had gotten, came from Richmond, more mindful than ever of the need for family. Brett accompanied them. He had gone to see Brandon as soon as he'd heard the news, and reported that his brother's dark hair had gone almost white during the illness of his wife and boys. Brett had tried to convince Brandon to get away from Yorktown for awhile, but had not had any luck. Brandon had thrown himself into his work, spending all of his free hours just walking the floors of his now silent house.
Bryce was as bereft as Ben, and had also offered to go to Yorktown to fetch Brandon for Christmas, his heart breaking for his elder brother, but nothing could induce Brandon away from the house that had once been a home.
"He just needs to have his own things around him at this time," Elizabeth said gently, when the Davidson men sat in the parlor one night, discussing their brother's state. "We all think we know how he feels, but none of us really do. He has to come to terms with this on his own."
Mary McIntosh agreed. "I lost my parents within a week of each other, and I did not want to deal with anyone. I had to greet the callers who came to mourn with me, but what I really wanted was solitude, to think, and reflect, and take stock of my life. When Brandon is ready for company, he will let you know."
Edward Wentworth, who had come over to comfort Polly, and reconnect with the Davidson's friends from Charleston, agreed. "It takes time to come to terms with loss. Mother ruled us with an iron fist, but when she was gone, there was a hole in my heart that took a long time to begin to heal."
Their prayers that Christmas were for both the living and the lost, and they kept their loved ones close to their hearts. Mr. Merriman, who had been affected deeply by the loss to their family, took wreaths of pine and holly to the graveyard to place on the resting places of his own loved one, and spent a great deal of time there, asking his lost loved ones to remember the living, and if possible guide the newly dead to their reward in heaven, where they would all be reunited in the fullness of time. In his heart, he knew that family is forever, and that he would soon see the missing members of his family again.
The New Year, 1785, started better. Charles had his new store open and wrote often, giving the rest of the family details of how things were going. There were lots of birthdays to celebrate, all through the spring, and the family made an effort to get together on those occasions at King's Creek, with the exception of Brandon, who was still deep in mourning.
Elizabeth received news several times of Annabelle, and her parents, who were doing well and were hoping to be able to come for a visit that summer. Lord Harry looked forward to seeing Ben again, as well as meeting his nieces and nephews. Ben was eager to show off his stables, but disaster struck again in May, when the Coles arrived, minus Lord Harry. He had died suddenly and Annabelle was now widowed.
This news coaxed Brandon to King's Cross. The family had been trying to convince him to come back to the plantation for a visit for some time, and he had just about decided to come to meet Elizabeth's family when this new development occurred. The thought of meeting Annabelle, who understood more than anyone else what he was going through, drew him back to the family at last. She was childless, so her circumstances were different, but still, she understood his loss and they spent quite a bit of time together.
Annabelle was in no hurry to go back to England, since her husband's title had passed to a cousin, who had never been pleased with the idea of having a cousin-in-law from the colonies. The new Lord Lacey had been only too happy to be rid of the Coles, whom he had considered somewhat of an embarrassment. Annabelle talked to Brandon about this, and they both had many stories to tell about living in families with Loyalist leanings during the war. It surprised Felicity to see how much the two had in common, but it pleased her as well.
Grief had made Annabelle a more thoughtful young woman, and Felicity began to hope that once the pair had finished their period of mourning, they might find a way to make a life together. Annabelle was still beautiful, and her sadness, by nature of its honesty, made her seem even lovelier. She took great comfort from her namesake, little Ann, just as Brandon found a great deal of comfort in Nan's little Lou.
"Are you matchmaking again, my Lissie?" Ben asked her one day, after she had seen Annabelle and Brandon off on a ride.
"Time and their own hearts must match the ones we love, as my dear mother used to say, but there's no harm in giving broken hearts a little encouragement to go on," she replied.
The Coles were in no hurry to go back, either. They were hungry for little ones, not only pleased to see their little granddaughter Ann, but amused and soothed by the liveliness of the Davidson home. Ann for her part, charmed her grandparents, and Mr. Cole spent a lot of time reminiscing with Mr. Merriman about the past glory of Williamsburg. They both regretted the deterioration of the town, and hoped that someday, somehow, it would rise again, and once more be the way they knew it. They remembered Ben's other brothers from Felicity's wedding, and that also brought back fond memories to discuss.
The two youngest Wentworth men closed the deal on their plantation, and Edward and Polly began to plan their wedding. They wanted to marry after harvest, which suited everyone in the family very well.
The McIntosh family came for the annual Davidson and Merriman summer barbecue in July and wound up staying nearly a month with their noisy brood, which only added to the recovering spirits of the house. John, Thomas and Connor learned to fish in the river, although Connor continued to be more interested in horses than his brother. Mary and Margaret played games and often followed Polly to the blackberry patch to help pick berries for pies. The quartet of small girls, Lou, Mercy, Ann and Claire were not old enough to play properly, but there were plenty of laps for them all to sit on, and lots of attention to receive. Matthew, a precocious toddler, followed the older boys and girls when he could, and being used to smaller children, they tolerated him with good grace.
At the barbecue, Felicity looked out over the large table, spread with the plantation's bounty she knew she had a great deal to be thankful for.
The adults had a lively discussion about the Land Ordinance, which set forth how the government would measure, divide, and distribute the land it had acquired from the British north and west of the Ohio River at the end of the war. The Treaty of Paris, in 1783 had given the Ohio Country to the new United States, but numerous problems had occurred concerning control of the land. For one thing, Native American tribes refused to agree that the land even belonged to the United States.
"That is hardly a surprise," Charles said wryly, when Brett brought this fact up.
Other states had also tried to stake a claim to the land. They'd gotten permission from the king to control this land when they were still colonies, and while they hadn't thought much of the king when it came to most things, on this matter they were still quite supportive of their previous agreement.
The Confederation Congress had hoped to sell the land to raise funds, since they were not allowed by the Articles of Confederation to tax their citizens. Many people feared that illegal settlers would move into these areas and form their own country. This was a legitimate fear, since the Appalachian Mountains left these lands so isolated from the rest of the nation. The Confederation Congress had quite a job to negotiate with the Indians and the states before the federal government could claim sole ownership of all that land.
The Land Ordinance of 1784 established that these western lands would eventually become separate states, while these negotiations went on, but it had done nothing to decide how the land would be settled or distributed. This was what the new Land Ordinance of 1785 did. Government surveyors had begun to divide the territory into townships, which were numbered.
Sections were reserved to provide land bounties to war veterans. The rest would be sold at public auction. The minimum bid for a 640 acre parcel was a dollar an acre. Squatters would continue to move into the Ohio Country, and Indians would continue to refuse to leave what they considered their home, but the nation was definitely poised to grow.
"Perhaps some of our children will settle there someday," Charles remarked, causing each mother present to quickly cling to her own. No one wanted to think of their children going so far away. It was hard enough to keep the families in contact now. The idea of having the children go where they might never be seen again was too upsetting.
So they began to talk about Polly and Edward's upcoming wedding, which was a much safer topic, as it was something they were all looking forward to.
"You'll come, won't you?" Polly begged Mary and Samuel McIntosh. "I remember telling my mother at Elizabeth's wedding that mine would be even grander, and I think it will. You are like family, and we would love to have you, wouldn't we Lissie?"
"Of course you are welcome," Felicity agreed.
"If we can come, we certainly will," said Mr. McIntosh. "Having such a small family of our own, we're delighted to share yours."
"I wouldn't call your family small," Ben said wryly, watching their Connor as he handed flowers to Mercy, who was cheerfully shredding them all over the blanket she was sitting on, But Ben knew what his friend had meant. It was extended family they lacked, and Ben often wondered if that is why Mary and Samuel had welcomed so many youngsters themselves.
When the McIntosh family went back to Charleston, Felicity missed them, but it was a relief to have the size of the household reduced. Nan and Charles went back to Richmond with Brett soon after, and while Ann and Mercy missed their cousin, that also calmed things down a bit.
Brandon went back to Yorktown, and to Felicity's delight, took Annabelle and her parents with him, leading Felicity and been to suspect that as soon as the black mourning band came off his arm, he'd have a new wife to bring life back to his bleak existence.
"Do you think Louisa would mind?" Felicity asked Ben one night.
"I think she would want him to be happy," Ben replied, and Felicity hoped that was true.
Edward Wentworth and Polly were busy planning their new home and preparing for their wedding, which came quicker than anyone could have imagined. Time flies when there is an event to plan.
In November, everyone gathered once again, to see Polly's face glow with beauty and Edward's with pride, as they became man and wife. As the McIntoshes left King's Creek for Charleston once more, Mr. McIntosh remarked to his sons, "If you boys ever wish to indulge in this sort of thing, I hope you marry girls as fine as the ones you've met here."
John looked up at his father and said manfully for a boy not yet thirteen, "We'll do our best to please you, sir."