The Prodigal Son by Anna Belfrage Read Free Book Online Page B

father broke every piece of china in their home, alternating between calling Mam a whore and a traitor. At one point he had even hit her, but that had made both of them weep, with Father begging Mam to forgive him. Afterwards Ian had puzzled out why; Mam had given money to Aunt Alex, and even now, several years later, there were times when his father would curse Mam for that.
    “It’s your fault he didn’t die!” Father had screamed, half-drunk, a few months back. “If it hadn’t been for you and your meddling, Alex would never have been able to buy him free and Matthew would have died over there in Virginia – as I wanted him to.”
    It was all very confusing to Ian. Father hated his brother, often uttering Matthew’s name as a curse. But Mam didn’t, and when she’d been told by Luke to leave southern England with their son she had ridden all the way up here. “Home,” she’d said, smiling down at him. “Hillview is home.”
    While they’d been here Ian had often seen Mam speaking to Uncle Matthew, padding on silent feet after them as they walked through the woods. He had even seen Mam touch his uncle; one part of him was offended on behalf of Father, but the other part was glad because of the pleased and surprised look on Matthew’s face. Ian sneaked a look at his uncle, meeting eyes that were studying him intently. He flushed and looked away.
    “Is it true?” Ian blurted one day, making Uncle Matthew loose his grip on the open sack of oats he was lifting.
    “Is what true?” Matthew swept up the oats with his hand and refilled the sack.
    “That you were sold as a slave.”
    Uncle Matthew nodded.
    “And was it my father who did that to you? Who had you stolen away, sold like a beast?” He hoped his uncle would laugh and tell him not to be daft – what brother would do such – but instead Matthew sighed.
    “Aye, but who told you?”
    “Everyone does. They whisper it to me behind your back.” Hushed conversations in which he was told just what a bastard Father was and how grateful he should be that the master could find it in him to take Ian in, given the bad blood between him and his evil brother.
    Uncle Matthew set his mouth, muttering something about mean-hearted gossips.
    “Why?” Ian asked with his eyes hanging off Matthew. “Why did he do that?”
    “That’s a question you must ask him, not me.” Matthew stood and swung the bag onto his shoulder. “Come, you, we have beasts to feed.”

    “You do have sons of your own,” Alex reminded Matthew with a nasty edge that evening. “And given that you’re too engrossed with your new family addition to notice, let me inform you that Mark is feeling very excluded by all this male bonding.”
    “Male bonding?”
    “It’s what men do when they establish they belong together, you know, like slicing your thumb open and mingling your blood, or going off up the mountain to dance naked around a bonfire.”
    Matthew shook his head in bemusement and opened his mouth to ask some more, but Alex wasn’t about to be side-tracked.
    “So tomorrow you spend the day with Mark. And why not throw in some hours with Rachel and Jacob as well?” She breezed out of the room before he could protest.
    He sniffed the air in her wake. She had taken a bath and used one of her scented oils, a clear signal that mayhap she was feeling somewhat ignored of late. Matthew sighed and pulled off his stockings, studying his long toes for some time. Sometimes it was exhausting to be farmer, father and husband. He washed, cleaned his teeth with a twig, masticated a sprig of mint and sank down onto the bed. He hoped she’d hurry back, or else he’d be asleep.
    “Matthew!” Alex shook him hard. “The baby, you have to ride for the midwife.”
    “The baby?” He’d been well on his way to sleep and was still somewhat befuddled.
    “Joan’s!” Alex shook him again. “Hurry, okay?”
    By now Matthew was up, throwing on clothes he had only recently discarded and then he