Jasmine moon, p.26
Jasmine Moon, page 26
It was in her valise, of course, still by the bed. With an exploring hand she reached inside, but the brush eluded her. In a hurry, she dumped the articles upon the bed and in relief she saw it. She had not left it at the last inn after all.
Staring down at the contents now lying helter-skelter over the coverlet, Eulalie looked for the pouch of gold nuggets that Julie had given her. It was not among the other things.
Frantically, she grabbed up the valise, turned it upside down, and shook it, but it was empty. There was no sign of the leather pouch.
"Are you looking for something in particular, Eulalie?"
"Yes, Robert. I had a…a gift from Julie. It was in my valise, but now it is gone."
He walked toward the bed. "Do you mean the leather pouch of gold nuggets, Eulalie?"
"How did you know?" Eulalie asked with a guilty expression replacing the anxiety.
"You forget. I was outside the door at Cedar Hill when Julie gave it to you."
Her mouth fell open at his confirmation. So he had seen the exchange.
"But do not worry, Eulalie. I took the liberty of placing it in the safe in the library as soon as we came home. That much gold should not be left lying around. It is too much of a temptation for someone to steal it."
"You put it in your safe?"
"Yes, Eulalie."
She did not thank him for his actions. Angry at his behavior, she said, "Robert, you had no right to take it from me."
It was his turn to display anger. "I have merely put it in a safe place. I have not taken it away from you, Eulalie. You have only to ask for it, when you think you need it."
His words did not reassure her. If she ever decided to leave, Robert would have to be the first to know. For she could not leave without the gold.
Feeling frustrated, she went behind the screen and removed her chemise. And as she struggled into her gown, she muttered under her breath.
"Did you say something, Eulalie?"
"No, Robert."
Robert had defeated her again. And not only by removing the gold from her valise.
She had not told him what she had suspected even before leaving for Cedar Hill—that she was enceinte. The same early-morning queasiness, the same wave of nausea at the sudden rounding of a curve when she was riding in the carriage had left no doubt. She was to bear Robert another child.
She was now bound to him more than ever, faced with having to stay on at Midgard, in the same house with Florilla, the woman Robert preferred.
But she could not stay, knowing that Jason was in danger. She would have to find some way of getting the gold nuggets out of the safe.
In the meantime, while she decided what to do, she and Feena would need to watch Jason carefully to make certain that Florilla did him no harm. It was a pity that the woman had not known that it was useless to hurt Jason. If she had been aware of the new babe, then Jason would not have been placed in such peril at Cedar Hill.
Of course! Why had she not thought of it? If Florilla were told, then the danger would be transferred to Eulalie. And Jason would be safe.
But would Florilla inform Robert? Eulalie was not anxious for Robert to know. But would it not be to the woman's advantage to keep it a secret? Making up her mind, Eulalie walked from behind the screen and climbed into bed for the night.
Early on the following morning, Eulalie sought out Florilla. For Jason's sake she would have to remain outwardly calm in the woman's presence and not reveal the devastating mark that the taunting words, spoken at Cedar Hill, had left on her heart.
Walking down the hallway, Eulalie saw the fair-haired woman coming from her own bedroom adjacent to the nursery.
When Florilla saw Eulalie, she stopped short and stood fixed, while Eulalie approached her.
"Florilla, I need your help," Eulalie said, ignoring the surprised expression on the woman's face.
Florilla's eyes darted toward the closed door of the nursery and back again to Eulalie. "I was not aware that you were here," she said, continuing to scrutinize Eulalie. "And Jason?"
Eulalie frowned. Had Florilla not known that Robert was going to Cedar Hill to bring them back? But surely he had told the woman before leaving. What game was Florilla playing—to pretend that she did not know Robert's plans?
Dismissing the frown, Eulalie nodded. "Yes, Jason is here also. Feena took charge of him last night when we came home. He is probably being a sleepyhead this morning, after the long trip."
Casually, she came back to her primary purpose in seeking out the child's governess.
"Jason's baby clothes," she said. "The ones that came with him from the convent. Where are they stored, Florilla?"
"Why, in the attic, I believe, in one of the trunks. It was Marcey who laundered them and put them away when Jason outgrew them. Do you wish to see them?"
"I have need of them again," Eulalie replied. "Will you please see that they are brought down from the attic?"
Florilla, speechless for a moment, faltered, "There are…many other trunks in the attic. And since Marcey is no longer here, I might not be able to find the right one immediately. Do you wish to go with me to the attic?"
Remembering the narrow, dangerous stairs to the top floor, Eulalie shook her head. "Take one of the servants, Florilla. I dare not climb the steep stairs in my condition."
"Does Robert know yet?" Florilla asked.
Eulalie forced a smile to her lips. "Not yet. It is a little too early to inform him."
Eulalie turned from the woman and started walking to the master bedroom. "Oh, yes," she said, pausing to speak again. "When you find the trunk, just have someone bring it down to my old bedroom in the other wing."
She trembled as she closed the door to the room she shared with Robert, and catching sight of the comforting prie-dieu in the corner, she went to kneel on the soft blue cushion.
So she had done it. Now, perhaps, Jason would be safe for a while, and the danger transferred to her.
Her lips began to move in prayer. Eulalie's hands slowly relaxed their tense position against her breast and the trembling of her body gradually ceased.
Robert watched Eulalie carefully, hoping for some sign of her being with child again. But so far, there had been no indication—merely a shortness of temper, especially when Florilla's name was mentioned.
It was noticeable, even to him, that Eulalie avoided Florilla as much as possible. She was probably still miffed that the woman had come to him about Arthur. But he was grateful to Florilla. If it had not been for her, he might never have suspected what was blossoming between Eulalie and Arthur. And by the time he had caught wind of it, it might have been too late. Except for the mistake she had made about Alistair Ashe, Florilla had been quite reliable.
Eulalie would just have to become reconciled to having the woman around. For Robert intended for Florilla to be kept busy, helping to care for other children. And it would be good for Eulalie not to think that she could have her way with him all the time—that with just a look from her, he could be forced into satisfying her every whim, even to getting rid of Jason's governess, because of her tattling to him about Eulalie's behavior with Arthur.
No, Florilla would do very well. And Eulalie, with less responsibility, would be able to spend more time with her own husband.
In the midst of packing supplies for his trip to Tabor Island, Robert paused. There was nothing to prevent Eulalie from accompanying him this time. With each trip he had become increasingly charmed with the wild. untamed beauty of the island. And he knew Eulalie would enjoy seeing it too—the beach, the old lighthouse, the improvements he had made on the tabby house. And there was little danger that the blockade ship would weigh anchor near the island.
Abruptly Robert ceased his packing and went in search of his wife. "Eulalie," he called, walking up the stairs toward the west wing of the house.
Working in the privacy of the bedroom that had been hers before Robert married her, Eulalie had begun the repairing of the baby clothes that Jason had worn. Handling the tiny garments that the sisters had lovingly made at the convent brought back all the pain of the months before Jason's birth.
Robert's voice penetrated the closed door of the bedroom. Quickly, Eulalie put down the soft material on which she was sewing and opened the door to the hallway.
He frowned when he saw her. What was Eulalie doing in her old room? The guilty look on her face told him that she was keeping something from him. Because of it, he was more determined than ever for her to go with him to the island.
"What is it, Robert?" Eulalie asked, closing the door and standing in the open hallway.
"I am leaving for Tabor Island tomorrow. And I want you to accompany me."
"For how long?" she asked. "I have been busier than usual."
She was not eager to be with him again, away from Feena and Jason. Besides still being miffed at him for taking the gold nuggets, she was afraid that the trip by boat might give her secret away, and she hoped to keep it from him as long as possible.
"For a few days. The weather appears to be nice. It should be a smooth, pleasant trip on the water," Robert responded. "You are not afraid, are you, because of Joseph's wife and the storm?"
"Of course not, Robert. I am not afraid of the water. When do you plan to leave?"
"At first light.”
"I'll be ready."
"Good."
"But I am not a good traveler," she warned.
The sparkling blue water, edged with a garland of white foam, made small slaps against the boat.
Blowing the hood of Eulalie's cap from her head, a gust of wind with its airy fingers tore her carefully demure chignon to shreds, so that her long, black wavy hair lifted above her like wings of a bird spread for flight.
"You resemble the figurehead on some proud Viking ship," Robert shouted above the sound of the sea.
Just then a large wave spewed over them, and Eulalie felt the salt spray on her face. She shrank from the wetness and quickly dabbed her face with her handkerchief. Disgruntled, Eulalie replied, "And I feel like some poor maiden lashed to the prow, soaked with every wave."
"Today it's quite calm in comparison to many trips I've made." His tone was reassuring.
"If this is calm, then I have no desire to be on the water when you consider it rough."
The motion was disturbing, and Eulalie felt the old familiar queasiness.
"Robert," she said. "I warned you yesterday. I am not a good sea traveler. I think I am going to—"
She barely made it to the side of the boat. And as she leaned over, she heard Robert's laugh.
Then he was beside her, holding her head. A few minutes later, feeling disgraced and wan, Eulalie tried to free herself from Robert's embrace, but he continued supporting her with his strong arms. Unable to move away from him, she buried her face against his chest and determined not to look at him.
"Do you always react this way, Eulalie?" he asked gently.
"Only when I'm—" She stopped and sighed. She had almost given herself away.
"It won't be much longer. Matthew will have us on the island soon."
Remaining in his arms, she listened to the strong pulse of his heart. And then she was being lifted from the boat and set onto the pier.
"Do you think you can make it, now that you're on land?"
"Yes, certainly. There is nothing wrong with me," she replied haughtily, glancing at Robert for the first time.
"Then why are you still green, my pet?" he asked with an amused twinkle in his tawny eyes.
His teasing infuriated her. "If I am green, it is all your fault. If you remember, you're the one who insisted I come."
"So I did," Robert admitted. "Once you have gotten your land legs, I think you will enjoy being on the island."
"I doubt it, monsieur," she said, walking unsteadily away from him.
Despite herself, she was drawn by the beauty of the island. Eulalie followed the path carefully laid out from the pier, and as she walked, she noted the unfamiliar green shrubbery and vegetation that had been pruned on either side.
Then the path divided, and Eulalie, uncertain in which direction to go, looked over her shoulder. But there was no sign of Robert.
Hesitating but a moment, she turned left. Suddenly, the old tabby house rose before her in lonely splendor.
Seeing it, Eulalie threw off her cloak and ran toward the house. Up the steps she went, onto the open tabby porch. She reached for the doorknob and it twisted noisily in her hands. She was so intent upon getting inside that she was barely aware that the house was not locked.
Slowly and almost reverently, she pushed open the door and walked into the deserted entrance. And once inside, she paused—as the strange feeling swept over her. She had been here before.
But that was impossible. Papa Ravenal had never brought her to the island—merely talked about it. Yes, that must be it. She had recognized the house from his description.
Eulalie hurried from room to room, seeing the evidence of the recent care the tabby structure had received from Robert's hands. And then she was up the steps, into a large open room. Looking out the window, she could see the pale-blue water that now looked placid and smooth from a distance.
"I see you had no trouble finding it."
Robert's voice behind her caused her to jump in fright. She had been so absorbed in her own thoughts she had not heard his footsteps.
"Robert," she said, turning to him, "is…is anyone else in the house?"
"Not for the moment. Hector is still at the lighthouse, but he will return in time for dinner."
"Am I expected to cook?" she asked, uncertain of Robert's reason for bringing her with him.
In amusement he replied, "No, Eulalie. I brought you here to enjoy the island—not to work. And I don't think the cook would appreciate your taking his job away from him."
Relieved at his reply, Eulalie said, "How long will Hector be here?"
"For three more days, until Arthur comes to replace him. But of course, we will have left by then."
"You are only staying three days?"
"Two days," he corrected. "You don't think I would be fool enough to throw you and Arthur together again, do you?"
"Throw us together?" Eulalie repeated, feeling her anger against Robert growing.
"Yes. There will be no more secluded dinners with just the two of you, while I am on duty at the lighthouse…Where are you going, Eulalie?"
"To the beach," she replied, "unless I have been forbidden that, too."
He did not respond to her gibe. Instead, he questioned, "You are feeling better?"
But Eulalie, peeved with Robert, hastened out the door without replying. Down the steps she went, retracing her course, until she had reached the divided path. She did not want to go back to the pier. So she took the opposite way—anywhere that she could escape. Florilla had sown the seeds well.
CHAPTER 30
HE found her on the beach. In utter relaxation, Eulalie stood, shoeless, her skirts tucked up and slightly damp.
She had evidently been wading along the edge of the water, and now she held a conch shell to her ear, listening.
The sun shone down on her tousled hair, capturing the sheen of the blue-black strands. Again Robert was reminded of the grace of the beautiful doe poised in a silent stillness, unaware of being watched.
Reluctant to disturb the picture before him, Robert stopped and gazed at his wife. Oblivious to everything else, Eulalie pirouetted, still holding the conch shell to her ear.
Her slight intake of breath and the fleeting frown indicated that she had seen him. And Robert was sorry at her reaction to him.
Speaking more severely than her offense warranted, he said, "It is not yet summer, Eulalie. Put your shoes on before you catch cold."
As if embarrassed to be caught without warning and reprimanded, she cast her eyes to the shoes waiting on the large gray rock, and hurriedly let down her skirts, while clinging to the shell with one hand.
He was at the rock before she reached it. And Eulalie found herself aided by strong arms and set upon the boulder where her shoes rested.
She stared at him strangely while he brushed the sand from the soles of her feet and then fastened the buttons of her slippers to encase her feet in the soft kid.
The wind began to blow from the sea—a sudden change from the pastoral quietness that Eulalie had enjoyed before Robert's appearance. Jumping from her perch on the rock, she felt the sharp buffeting of the sea breeze against her body. Her skirts rippled and billowed in the wind. Robert, already on his way ahead, paid no attention to her difficulty with her skirts.
She was far behind when he looked back. The sudden gust of wind made a sail of her skirts, and as she struggled to grab the flyaway material, Eulalie lost hold on the delicately fluted conch shell. It fell onto the hard-packed sand and, landing on its thin, translucent edge, broke into pieces.
Rapidly, Robert walked back to Eulalie.
"My shell—my beautiful shell," she lamented, her dark-brown eyes showing her distress. "I had wanted to take it to Jason, but now it's broken." She stared ruefully at the pieces at her feet.
Gentleness swept Robert's face. "I will help you find another one tomorrow, Eulalie."
"You will?" she questioned eagerly, looking up. "Do you think we will find one just as beautiful?"
"Even more so," Robert promised. "I'll take you to the lighthouse tomorrow and you'll be able to gather shells all along the way."
He drew her close to protect her from the wind, and unprotesting, Eulalie walked with him back to the tabby house.
That evening, Eulalie dressed for dinner in the yellow moiré high-waisted gown that Maggie had made for her. It concealed the slight thickening of her figure. But to make certain there were no telltale signs, she draped the matching yellow-fringed shawl over her shoulders and tied the ends loosely in front. She gave one last glance in the half-length mirror before walking down the steps.
She followed the sound of men's voices coming from the front part of the house.
In the doorway she stood, framed by the last light of the dwindling day, and Robert, seeing her, could find no evidence of the disheveled child from the beach. Before him was an elegantly clad woman, her hair in classical restraint, with no hint of its earlier unruliness.
