Somerset by Leila Meacham Page B

horses’ hooves coming up the lane past the manse, the cemetery, and drawing to a stop before her cottage. Startled awake, she leaped out of bed and grabbed her robe, hearing a frightened exclamation from the occupant inside the storage room as she ran from her bedroom through the kitchen to meet the nightmare she’d long dreaded and was sure awaited the other side of her door.
    Tying her robe securely, she threw the latch to find a gaggle of men staring down at her from horseback, mouths clamped hard and eyes steely. The leader of them dismounted and tipped his hat. “Good evening, Miss Conklin, or perhaps I should say good morning, as I believe it is now,” Michael Wyndham said.

Chapter Fourteen
    I have no idea where your son has gotten himself off to,” Eunice said to Carson at breakfast. “He’s been gone all night. Elfie will be so disappointed if her nephew is not here to greet her when she arrives.”
    â€œHe’s out with the Night Riders,” her husband remarked, intent on reading his newspaper. “He’s determined to catch the culprit stealing from us.”
    â€œIt was only two hams,” Jessica said, uneasy at the thought of her brother and his lackeys out and about the countryside when she drove Sarah and their cargo to Charleston.
    Carson glanced at her. “How do you know it was two hams?”
    Jessica thought quickly. Willie May had told her, but just as well her father did not know the source of her information. He would no longer take Willie May into his confidence. “It’s no secret about the theft, Papa. Everybody in the Yard knows it.”
    â€œTippy, carrying tales again.” Her father harrumphed.
    â€œYou have to admit, Carson, that the girl has outdone herself with the decorations this year. I can’t wait for Elfie to see them.”
    Carson harrumphed again, but there was no denying that Tippy had created amazing holiday wonders from ribbons, pinecones, evergreen branches, mistletoe, candles, colored paper, wooden ornaments, popcorn balls, fruits, nuts, gingerbread, and glass balls from Germany. Eunice had been so pleased that she had rescinded her husband’s order committing Tippy to work in the weavers’ cabin, where the smoke from the fireplace was not good for her lung.
    â€œIt’s a waste of her talents, Carson,” Eunice had stated in a tone declaring she would not budge on the matter. “The girl belongs in the sewing room. Jessica and I are both in need of new frocks for Silas and Lettie’s nuptials.”
    Her husband never shrank from a battle unless in those rare instances prudence trumped valor. With the exception of Willowshire, his wife was the love of his life, and he would do nothing to jeopardize his demonstration of it at night in their bedroom. He gave in gracefully, conceding, “You’re right. We must put her where we get the most value.”
    Jessica said, her heart beginning to hammer, “Papa, have you ordered the carriage around? Sarah’s ship departs at three o’clock, about the time Aunt Elfie’s arrives, and I want to get us there in plenty of time.”
    Carson looked up from his newspaper. “Yes, but I wish you’d wait a little longer for your brother to drive you. I don’t trust the weather this time of year, and the almanac says to expect snow sometime this week. Your aunt’s trunks might be a problem for the two of you to manage.”
    â€œI’ll get a porter to help us,” Jessica said, folding her napkin and beckoning a servant to draw out her chair.
    â€œBut how will you get Sarah Conklin’s luggage into the carriage?” her father persisted.
    â€œWe’ll manage,” Jessica said, hoping with all her heart that Michael did not appear. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
    â€œThey want to be alone for girl talk, dear,” she heard her mother explain as she hurried from the room.
    â€œIn