"How so?" Alice quipped with false brightness as nervousness filled her.
"For not checking whether you were asleep that night eight years ago." Uncas returned nonchalantly, but his eyes gleamed with alertness. He leaned forward, bring his face closer to hers.
Alice hedged, "Pardon?"
" You forgive me just because of what I said that night?" he mocked gently as he inched nearer, until his breath feathered her cheek. Alice blanched. So she had said foolish things.
But she refused to be cowed by him and replied evenly, " There is nothing to forgive. Staying would hurt you more. That was why I left."
Uncas flinched and Alice nearly pumped her fist in victory. Instead, she met his gaze shrewdly, "Am I right?"
His mouth tightened. He looked as if he was going to let loose a stinging reply but he did not. He rose to his feet abruptly, "You should wash up." Without a backward glance, he disappeared from the room. Alice wished he had said she was right - so she could convince herself she had made the right decision all those years ago by listening to him. And leaving him.
Eight years ago
"I'm pregnant."
The Earl of Craven's fork dropped from his hand and clattered noisily onto the fine china plate.
"The child's father is Cora's husband's adopted brother - a Mohican."
"Pray tell what exactly is a Mohican."
Alice ignored his remark and pressed on with quiet dignity, "This is why I have to break off the betrothal. This is why I cannot accept your offer of marriage."
Bryan Nicholson, Earl of Craven, gaped at the younger sister of his departed best friend. Callum. He had been there that fateful day his best friend since birth had drowned. He had been there when Cora screamed for help until her voice went hoarse. He had been there when Alice sat frozen on the grassy bank, shaking violently, too terrified to utter a word.
Bryan had taken up the mantle of being the sisters' protector since then. He had grown up with the Munros and their parents were great friends. The Munros had been his parents when his own passed away in a carriage accident when he was six. He had been equally devastated when Mrs Munro died of a broken heart a few months following her son's death.
The deep-rooted relationship between the families was partially the reason he had been betrothed to Alice for as long as he could remember. There had been women but Bryan always knew Alice would be his wife. It would be what his parents and Callum wanted. It was what he wanted. Alice was family to him, for better or worse. Admittedly, Bryan found her fair beauty incredibly appealing.
"Were you taken against your will?" he clipped, his voice unnaturally calm. His pale blue eyes scrutinised her sharply.
"No." she confessed, and the earl's eyes narrowed to slits.
"You want to keep the baby." Bryan concluded bleakly. It was obvious since she wished to break off their betrothal.
Alice nodded, not trusting herself to speak further. Underneath the table, her hands trembled uncontrollably.
"Do you plan to raise the child by yourself?" he demanded coolly.
"My father left Cora and I enough inheritance to live comfortably. Once the child is old enough - " Alice began haltingly.
"What about playing the harp? Do you plan to give that up too?" Bryan interrupted brusquely.
Alice nodded again and Bryan swore under his breath.
"I was never too serious about the harp...I never..." Alice stuttered unconvincingly.
" Alice. You were eight when you literally begged Uncle James to let you take lessons from London's best maestro. All those times you saved every penny to watch harp performances, the six-hour daily practices over the last ten years... do you expect me to believe you were doing it out of boredom?" Bryan's voice rose in blunt anger.
"I am having the baby, no matter the cost." Alice stated firmly.
Bryan expelled a tortured growl even as he eyed Alice with grudging respect - she had made up her mind, aware that she would become a pariah. Plus, throw in news of their broken betrothal, Alice would be better off living in a nunnery for the rest of her life. He thought fondly of Callum's infectious laughter and grin, Uncle James teaching him how to fish, Aunt Muriel baking his favourite tarts...
"We will proceed as agreed. No one else is more fit to be my countess."
Present
Bryan had been a wonderful, generous, steadfast friend and a dutiful husband to his last breath. Alice's eyes watered wistfully at the memory as she got dressed. He was gone but he forever had a special place in her heart. Heading for the common room, she smiled when she saw Mikayla and Ichante reading a book together. Or Ichante was reading a book to his sister. Uncas was nowhere to be seen. Alice guessed he had been a little befuddled by their earlier conversation. She would be if she were in his shoes. With another last look at her children, Alice went off in search for Cora. Her sister had mentioned she wanted to buy food and supplies for the boarding house.
Uncas observed Alice broodingly through the window as she gazed at her children in contentment before disappearing from the room. He felt foolish for churlishly taking off earlier before their conversation had reached a conclusion. "Staying would hurt you more." Uncas was unsettled by how easily Alice could discern his thoughts and feelings without even trying. Was she right? He heaved a weary sigh of frustration. He seemed to be the one who had hurt everyone...
Five years ago
"Let's try for a child."
"We already have a child, " Uncas responded without a missing a beat without looking up at Pamuy.
"No. You have a child with the white woman. I am merely a convenient nanny to him."
Uncas continued to clean his rifle methodically, knowing his wife would go on without him answering.
"I want a child by own flesh and blood."
"Let's wait a few more years. Ichante needs our full attention and care for now. He is still adapting to life here."
"I don't want to wait."
"Uncas threw the rag on the ground, "I'm just asking for -"
"Send him back to his mother. She is rich, isn't she? She can look after him."
"He's staying here with me, with us." Uncas bit out tersely.
"Let your brother adopt him then. You can still see him as often as you want that way."
"He is my son."
"Do you think by keeping him with you, the white woman will come back to you one day?" Pamuy taunted.
"She isn't coming back. I was the one who sent her away."
"Why? You think I don't know you think of her every time you see Ichante?"
"He is nothing like her," Uncas lied baldly. Wrong. Ichante was so much like his mother in many ways...
"Send him back to his mother or else we are finished," Pamuy challenged, her eyes glittering with rage.
Uncas picked up his rifle and stalked away.
Present
Pamuy left him a few days after that argument. Cora had stepped in to mother her nephew. After that experience, Uncas vowed he would not remarry until Ichante was old enough to understand who he was, what he was. There had been women after Pamuy but Uncas kept the relationships strictly physical. He wondered about Alice's former husband. Cora had briefly mentioned that the earl had been a family friend and probably married Alice out of pity. Uncas was not convinced - a man would never just marry a woman out of pity, especially when she carried another man's child while doing so. The earl must have loved Alice in his own way somehow.
Uncas strolled over to the window and a faint grin tugged at his lips as he watched Ichante try to get Mikayla to repeat a few words after him. The little girl simply stared at her brother with her huge blue eyes, and gestured towards the book. Ichante sighed and tugged one of her curls with mock ire, "One day you will speak. Your mother would be happy to hear you speak." Your mother. Ichante obviously still drew a line between he and Alice. Not that Uncas blamed him but it was always his wish that Ichante would acknowledge Alice if he met her. But then again, Uncas was grateful Ichante was not ignoring Alice or being rude to her. For the first time, Uncas could not read his son's mind.
"How do you feel?" Cora inquired as the women made their way to the sundry shop.
"About what?" Alice murmured distractedly as droplets of sweat began to gather on her forehead. She had forgotten how hot it could get in America.
"About seeing Uncas again. About seeing your son." Cora replied casually.
"I know them... yet I do not." Alice answered honestly, flashing a resigned smile at her sister.
"Callum...we gave him a Mohican name to help him to blend in with the rest of the community. He could pass for a full-blooded Indian if not for this eyes." Cora divulged.
"His eyes were hazel when he was little... now they are -" Alice mused in wonder. She was mesmerised by the startling hue. They were nothing like hers.
"The colour of lightning in a summer storm." Cora interjected, "Ichante used to be teased mercilessly by the children in the camp whenever we visited because of the colour of his eyes. They stood out so much against his tan. We could tell he was upset but he never said a word. One day, he suddenly burst out that he hated the colour of his eyes and wished he was born somebody else. Uncas pulled him aside and talked to him. After that, he never got upset about remarks of his eyes or the names."
"What names did they call him?" Alice whispered. She could guess the sort of names Ichante was called.
"Half-breed, white whore's bastard...children can be cruel," Cora sighed, "Anyway, I asked Uncas what he told Ichante and he replied that he told the boy his eyes were the colour of lightning in a summer storm. But I suspect Uncas said more."
Alice recalled Ichante's shocked expression when she had commented similarly on his eyes. Now she knew why. But she was certain she had never made a similar comment before.
"He is a lovely child. Uncas brought him up well." Cora issued proudly.
Alice nodded in agreement. It was true. She probably could not have raised him better than his father. Her mind wandered again to the nugget of information. "He told the boy his eyes were the colour of lightning in a summer storm."
When the women returned to the boarding house, it was almost dusk and the skies were a pewter grey, heralding a thunderstorm later in the evening. Alice and Cora hurried to prepare supper and halfway through, raindrops began to pelt the roof and windows. The children, including Ichante and Mikayla, were playing outside and Cora hollered through the window for them to come into the house. Ichante was unsuccessfully trying to coax Mikayla from her hiding place behind a bush. Alice untied her apron and was about to head out when Uncas suddenly appeared in front of the siblings. Scooping Mikayla up, he tossed her in the air once, making her gurgle with excitement. He grabbed Ichante's arm with his free hand, and father and son ran towards the house. Ichante was laughing even as raindrops streaked across his face, with Uncas watching him indulgently with a barest hint of a grin. Alice blinked dazedly at the imagery in front of her...
Eight years ago
"Like the rain?"
Alice's eyes flew open at the now-familiar low, husky voice of Uncas. She was at the rooftop of the fort, standing in the drizzle which was fast turning into a downpour, wrapped in her cloak. She did not turn around. He came up behind her, his warm breath tickling her neck. He wore no cloak since she could feel the dampness of his shirt seeping through her cloak.
"No." she demurred, arching her neck to look into the gloomy sky. She pointed afar at the mercurial crackling electricity illuminating the sky, " Lightning. I love lightning." She loved summer storms - where it was usually more warm and humid than chilly.
"Then you must be fearless," he enunciated, his arms coming around her to rest on the parapets. Alice shivered involuntarily - not in cold, but at his proximity. He was barely touching her but just the slightest brush of his arms against her side sent tingles up and down her spine. She was officially losing her mind. To distract herself from his closeness, Alice became to babble incoherently, "I like something for every season. In winter, I like the icy frostiness of the wind at midnight. In autumn, I like the reddish glow of falling leaves at sunset. In spring, I love the scent of blooming flowers in the morning. In summer, I like -"
Alice did not manage to finish her sentence before Uncas angled his face around and kissed her lips, gently plundering her cool, moist depths. Alice jerked her head back in shock and gaped at him, her chest heaving. He smiled tenderly even as he purposefully twisted her around in his arms. Alice gulped. He was going to kiss her again. She could read his intent as clear as day in those fathomless eyes. Gnawing her bottom lip, she tried again, " But most of all, I love lightning in a summer -" She never got to finish her sentence again as Uncas chuckled quietly before swooping in to kiss her again, deeper and harder, until Alice forgot where she was, standing in the blinding, misty rain at the top of a fort. As Uncas tightened his arms around her, Alice succumbed to the sweet slaying of his passion. The wind howled around them and the rain drowned them both. But Alice did not feel the rain sheltered in Uncas' arms...
Present
The slamming of the door literally brought Alice back to the reality with a crash. The children poured into the house. Gathering her scattered thoughts, she rushed to the bedroom to get towels for Ichante and Mikayla. She found two and nearly ran into Ichante who was standing at the door, watching her with the same inscrutable thoughtfulness as his father.
Alice crouched down and immediately starting scrubbing him dry with a towel, "Are you not cold?" He shook his head, his eyes steely and bright.
"Ichante?" her son inclined his head quizzically at her questioning tone.
"What did your papa tell you about your eyes that you stopped hating the colour?" Alice probed cautiously.
The boy looked away for a second before his gaze travelled back to meet hers.
"Papa said my eyes were the colour of lightning in a hot summer storm," Ichante muttered, looking embarrassed.
"And?"
"He said Mama loved lightning in summer storms the most in the world. And my eyes were this colour because she missed me very much. She was somewhere out there, missing me. She would remember me every time she was in a summer storm. She didn't forget me." Ichante referred to Alice akin to a third person - as if he could not reconcile the mother he lost with the mother who was now in front of him.
Alice reeled from his words. Uncas. He always knew what to say.
She gripped Ichante tighter, "Ichante..."
He gazed at her with maturity beyond his eight years, "I didn't want to be me either - a half breed Mama didn't want."
Alice felt hot tears bathing her lids, threatening to spill. What had she done to this boy?
"But Papa told me the meaning of my name."
Alice knew she was in for another heart-wrenching reveal.
Her son broke into a tiny smile, "Ichante means 'from the heart'. I'm made from both Papa's and Mama's hearts."
Alice stayed slumped on the bed long after Ichante had scampered off.
"I'm made from both Papa's and Mama's hearts."
Alice could sense Uncas' presence even before he stepped into view.
"Alice?"
Alice raised her head slowly, her eyes dull.
She answered him achingly, "I hate you."
Author's note
Super sorry for the long wait! I was extremely busy with work and didn't want to write a half-baked chapter just to publish something. Anyway, I promise it won't take that long for the next chapter. Hope you'll continue to enjoy the story and thanks for all the encouraging reviews!
P.S By the way, I edited the last sentence since many of you thought Uncas was the one who said, " I hate you." It was actually Alice who said that. ;)