Chapter Six

From the moment the coach pulled up at Bizarre, Nancy felt free. She stood with her hands on her hips admiring the house as Dick and Judy rushed out to greet her.

"What do you think?" asked Judy. "It is not so fine as Matoax, but we like it."

"I love it already." Nancy turned in circles, taking everything in. The house was two-storied and rustic-looking, charming against a backdrop of tall poplar trees ranged protectively behind it. Beds of nodding daffodils and bright blue irises ran around the stone foundations, and her eyes followed a path to the side of the house where two dark-skinned girls in long aprons peered from behind a sprawling forsythia bush blossoming fiery yellow.

Judy drew her up the steps and inside, leaving Dick to holler for the boy to feed the horses and direct the driver to the kitchen house for a meal.

"Father let you bring Phebe?"

"He gave me her." She turned to remove her bonnet and saw Judy frown. "Why? You don't object, do you? She'll be no trouble. This way, my coming doesn't upset your household."

"True enough." Judy's shoulders relaxed. "That was generous of him."

"I'd say it was more a stab of conscience. He let me go without a backward glance, you know."

Judy's mouth opened, and Nancy braced for a lecture, but before she could begin, Dick was back.

"Our parlor is smaller than you will be used to at Tuckahoe, but what do you say to our fine view, eh, sister?"

"Dick, let the poor girl look around and get her breath before you start pointing out every prospect. I think Nancy might like a moment in her own room after her journey, don't you?"

"You're right, of course!" Dick swept a hand through his hair and laughed. "Ladies, march upstairs. I will attend to your trunk, Nancy, and Judy, I think we need to look to the furniture in this room."

"We do?"

"Certainly! We need better armchairs here by the fireplace, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, please," Nancy said, "I don't want to put anyone to any trouble. I'm sensible of the kindness you—"

"Not a word about kindness." Dick threw an arm around her shoulders. "I won't hear of it. We're happy to have you here and expect great things from your company. We will have songs and conversation and all manner of good times, will we not?"

He wrapped his other arm around Judy and pulled her into him quickly before releasing them both. "But you're on your way upstairs. Don't let me hold you back."

She followed Judy up to a small but well-appointed bedroom with a canopied bed, a dresser and a slim wardrobe that filled one wall from floor to ceiling.

"It's not as grand as Tuckahoe. Lower ceilings, not as light—"

"But it is filled with people who want me, Judy. I can't tell you how relieved I am to be here." Her eyes filled, and she reached for her handkerchief. "I'm so grateful to you for rescuing me. I hope you'll let me help you and repay your kindness in some measure."

"I am so glad to see you, sister. You have no idea!" Judy gripped her by the shoulders. "But it is Dick you must thank. It was his idea. He is the best of husbands."

"I think he must be! I don't think I'll ever want to be anywhere else."

Her enthusiasm only increased as the days rolled into weeks. Plantation life was in Nancy's bones. She worked at Judy's command without a murmur, sewing hems, counting stores and tackling the vegetable garden needed to feed the household through the summer and beyond. She was cheerful with the slaves, learning names and relationships, and as Judy did, she treated Sarah with the respect she had been brought up to show Cilla back at Tuckahoe. But while the routine of the day might not be so different to her life before Bizarre, it was the evenings that made her spirits rise. A meal with Dick and Judy was nothing like eating under Father's watchful eye. At Bizarre she flew into dinner with her hands still damp from washing and her curls escaping her cap, but instead of being greeted with disapproval or disdain, Dick welcomed her, pulling out a chair while Judy chuckled or rolled her eyes.

After dinner, if Dick was absent, she read from his library. No more hiding out to read books for hours in the fields or behind the outbuildings. When Dick was home, they played cards or talked about his plans and ideas. As often as once a week, there were visits from friends — Randy and Cousin Mary, Anne and Brett Randolph, as well as Aunt Page and her husband, Carter. These evenings were full of singing and wine and good humor.

* * *

"Having her here seems to have done you good," murmured Cousin Mary to Judy as she said her goodbyes one morning after a long, noisy evening at Bizarre. "And Dick." She nodded to her carriage where Dick and Nancy stood laughing with Randy.

"He treats her like his own sister."

"And you are in good spirits?"

"Yes. Although Theo and Jack are due to arrive back next week. I suspect we'll see a lot less of him. You know how those three are when they get together."

But Theo took to his bed with a fever the moment he arrived, leaving Jack to follow Dick around the plantation all day like a waif. In the evenings, he talked over the women and sulked when the conversation was of no interest to him. Judy wasn't sorry when he returned to school in New York. In time, Theo recovered enough to sit downstairs and took a liking to Nancy's company. She fetched him drinks and read to him for hours — to the point where Judy suspected him of playing the invalid to prolong her sister's attention.

"I hope your brother will be on his feet again sooner rather than later," she grumbled to Dick when they retired to bed one night. "I've grown used to Nancy's help with the sewing. But now, she only has eyes for Theo."

"I'd hardly say that." Dick pulled his shirt over his head. "She's just being helpful."

"You're not watching closely. All the signs of flirtation are there. She hangs on every word he says and must have tested the heat in his forehead with her palm ten times this afternoon. I've never seen her so solicitous." Judy laughed lightly as she pulled a comb through her hair. "I think Theo is enjoying himself tremendously with a pretty girl running after him. He's in no rush to recover and—"

"I wish you'd stop being so ridiculous!"

Judy stiffened. Silence followed. She weighed some things she could say. She could defend her position. Or attempt to laugh off his rudeness. Mother came to mind. Ann Cary Randolph wouldn't have been addressed in such a way — she'd been afraid of no one, certainly not her husband. But Judy wasn't made from the same mold as her mother. Her eyes pricked with tears and her tongue stayed still. Dick said nothing more, but she heard him moving behind her, the sound of the bedclothes shifting, the creak of the floor and the bed frame, the soft phut as he blew out his candle. She finished combing her hair and climbed into bed. Words burned on her lips, but she wouldn't let them escape. He had silenced her. Let him explain himself. She'd done nothing wrong. The injustice was a lump in her ribs. She lay on her back and waited.

"Do you really think they like each other?" he asked.

He didn't sound angry, but he wasn't apologetic either. He was . . . measured. She chewed on her lip. "Yes, I do. I wouldn't say it was serious, necessarily. But they have been thrown together here. A flirtation is hardly surprising."

"You're right." The bed creaked as Dick rolled toward her. He brushed her arm with his fingertips, feather-light, up and down. "I'm sorry I snapped. I'm tired. It's been a long day."

She remained still as his fingers trailed across her nightgown. He was tired. It had been a long day for him, out in the fields. His apology was a welcome surprise. Her body responded. And that was what she wanted most. His touch. The chance of a child. Nothing else mattered.