Pegg's Letty, drop her doll and stare as her mother flew by.
This was just what Pa didn't want the children to see.
"Patsy! What's wrong?"
Thank God. It was MyJohn and John behind me. I pointed in the direction of the quarters. Mama was just reaching the lane that ran through the cabins. MyJohn gave chase, and I stood watching, leaning against my brother.
At Delia's doorstep MyJohn gathered Mama in his arms and they went inside.
***
"'Tis A SHAME about the flood," Mama said. The laudanum had quieted her. Edward was sleeping in my arms.
"Flood?" I asked.
"They are saying that it is the worst flood we've ever had. Mr. Jefferson lost his mill on the Rivanna River. And the James and Rappahannock overflowed. Such losses! Four thousand hogsheads of tobacco, crops, livestock, lives, and homes. Oh, the people will go into debt."
"Mama, there was no flood," I said.
She shook her head and sighed. "The people are suffering. And the new governor rides about in a coach given to him by King George."
We didn't have a new governor yet. Governor Boutetourt had died last fall and England had not yet appointed another.
I sat rocking Edward. But oh, my mind was so sullied now with fear! And then guilt. Because the fear was not for Mama. It was for myself.
***
I SETTLED MAMA for a nap and put Edward to sleep in the downstairs cradle. By late afternoon I discovered that Anne and William couldn't be found.
"I haven't seen them," MyJohn said when I called belowstairs. Both he and my brother came up.
Little Betsy, who was just learning to put words together, tugged at MyJohn's breeches. "Mill, mill. I wanna go, too."
"So they're at the mill," I said.
"We'll go and fetch them back," MyJohn offered. The mill was a mile away on the river. Both children knew not to go near the water.
"They like to visit the miller and his wife," I said.
"You ought to rest before supper," MyJohn said. "You look spent." He put his arm around my shoulder. "Won't you?"
I pulled away.
"What is it, Patsy?" He peered into my face. His earnest brown eyes were so perplexed, his concern so dear.
"Nothing. I'm worried about Mama."
"Don't worry. We're making her a pleasant retreat downstairs. Patsy, what is it?"
"Oh, MyJohn, I'm afraid." And I commenced to cry.
"What are you afraid of?"
Out of the corner of my eyes I saw my brother John go out the back door, to give us privacy. "Of you," I said.
"Of me?" He made as if to laugh but did not.
"Of what marriage to you will do to me. Of becoming like Mama if we wed."
He smiled. "Patsy, darling, of course you might think that, but by heaven, you are the most sensible and steady young woman I have ever known."
"How do we know?" I whispered. "Mama was beautiful and strong, too, when she wed Pa."
MyJohn hesitated for a moment. "How do we know about anything, dearest? There is no promise written in stone that tomorrow won't bring any manner of trouble. Should we deny ourselves happiness in anticipation of it?"
"No."
"Patsy," he said gently, "I greatly esteem your father. But he casts a long shadow. I do not."
"You're saying it's Pa's fault?"
"It's no one's fault. It's just that another woman might have been able to stand up under his long absences, and his preoccupations."
It was almost what Pa had said. "I'm still afraid. I don't think it's Pa. I just think there's too many barons in Mama's family. And that it's in the blood."
"I refuse to allow anything bad to happen to you. I promise," he said.
I smiled and nodded, as if I believed him. I was supposed to believe him, wasn't I? But I would not let him hold me. It was not he who had to do the promising, after all. It was me. And of a sudden, I couldn't.
***
"M AMA, TELL ME how it was when you first met Pa. Were you very much in love?"
The children were not yet back. I'd brought Mama some tea.
"Your pa was a fine man."
I supposed that if I wanted her to talk any, I'd have to abide by her belief that Pa was dead.
"When did you meet him?" Why had I