Serpents in the Garden by Anna Belfrage

Author:Anna Belfrage [Belfrage, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Time Travel
ISBN: 9781781321737
Google: 33qhngEACAAJ
Publisher: Silverwood Books Limited
Published: 2014-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

“Where’s Patrick?” Jenny asked in a casual tone. “I haven’t seen him of late.”

“Gone.” Alex gave Jenny an appraising look. The baby was due any day now, the whole belly having sunk down to hover just above her pubic bone.

“Gone?” Jenny’s fingers whitened with pressure when she clenched them round the handle to the baby basket she was presently lining. “Why?”

“I have no idea,” Alex lied and went back to her cooking.

Jenny made a strange sound, like a muffled honk, and with a muttered excuse fled the room. Alex was overwhelmed by a wave of compassion for her. How alone she must feel, even more now that Ian so clearly avoided her, exchanging a minimum of words with her, no more.

“Oh God, what a mess,” Alex said to Mrs Parson once the kitchen was empty of anyone but them.

“Aye, you can say that again.” Mrs Parson nodded, frowning down at her knitting. She used her fingers to ensure she hadn’t dropped any stitches before going on.

“You do have spectacles,” Alex informed her.

“Spectacles? They’re for old people, no?” Mrs Parson snorted.

Alex grinned. The old woman was pushing seventy, but apart from a general stiffening of her joints, she was almost disgustingly healthy.

“Will he keep her?” she asked Alex.

Alex shook her head. No, Ian had made up his mind, and with every day she could see him hardening his heart towards Jenny, his eyes regarding her with an impassiveness that Alex found quite disturbing. At least Jenny wouldn’t be destitute, some of her jointure being settled on her in case of divorce. Luckily, as she suspected Jenny would not receive much of a welcome should she choose to go back to Leslie’s Crossing. Little Constance would have a field day.

*

“Enough,” Matthew said, drawing the oxen to a halt. “Tired?” He smiled down at his son.

David straightened up from the crouch in which he’d been working for the last few hours and nodded. “So much stone,” he moaned, looking down at his reddened hands.

“And just as much there.” Matthew nodded at the next patch of half-cleared land. “But this we can plant this afternoon and then do that tomorrow, aye?”

David nodded again, boyish shoulders sloping downwards.

Matthew sighed inside. The laddie was too young to have to work this hard, but there was no choice, not now that Patrick was gone. A few weeks, no more, and then the new fields would all be cleared and planted, and he could release his son to go back to playing.

They were coming up the river path, the oxen ambling along, when a sudden movement caught Matthew’s eyes. David squawked and took hold of Matthew’s hand. On the other side of the river stood a group of Indians, and a tremor coursed through Matthew. These were not Susquehannock. These were Iroquois, and just the name had the hair along his spine rising. One of the men took a step forward and raised a hand, and after a couple of heartbeats, Matthew smiled in relieved recognition.

“Run, lad,” he said to David.

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