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Authors: Miriam Minger
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still sorely missed.
"I'm happy to be here," she said rather
shyly, attempting her best imitation of Camille. "Thank you for your kind
welcome, Prue."
The woman's friendly smile returned and she drew
herself up, her emotions once again under control. "I'm preparing a nice
welcome dinner for you, Miss Camille. Master Cary always liked to dine straight
up at three o'clock, but if you'd like to eat a bit earlier or later—"
"Three o'clock will be fine. It is not my
intention to change the way my father did things at Briarwood."
Her answer seemed to please the woman, who beamed
broadly. "Good enough, Miss Camille. Good enough."
Susanna moved quickly along the line as Adam made more
introductions, so many that the names of kitchen maids, chambermaids, laundry
and dairy maids, the valet, a steward who kept the plantation's books, and
numerous others were soon swimming in her mind. The last person she came to was
an older black woman with short, graying hair beneath her starched cap. Her
deeply lined face was still striking, although she appeared to be perhaps sixty
years old or more. She regarded Susanna with a kind, hopeful expression.
"Do you remember me, Miss Camille? You've surely
changed since I saw you last. You were just a little one then, no taller than
my knees. I wouldn't have known you except for your pretty hair and eyes. My,
you've grown into a fine beauty, just like your mama."
Taken aback, Susanna had no idea who this woman was.
Adam did not readily come to her aid but seemed somewhat surprised himself that
she did not know the woman's name.
"Ertha," he finally murmured, after an
awkward silence.
Susanna flushed warmly, embarrassed that she'd
forgotten all about Camille's childhood nurse.
Camille had always spoken of Ertha fondly—the woman had
been like a mother to her, Constance Cary having died when Camille was barely
one year old—but she had never really given Susanna any clear description of
her. Camille had been so young when Captain Keyes had escorted her to England
that her recollections of the woman were uncertain at best. Camille had simply
remembered Ertha for her warm, constant presence; her soft, crooning voice
singing her to sleep with lullabies.
Hoping to compensate for her blunder, Susanna turned
back to the woman, who looked crestfallen, and took her hands, squeezing them
gently.
"Of course. Forgive me, Ertha. I don't know what
came over me. It's been so long . . ."
"Don't trouble yourself, child," Ertha said
graciously, although some of the light had left her eyes. "It was a long
time ago. I shouldn't have expected that you might remember me."
Again silence fell between them, broken when Adam
interjected, "Ertha has been Briarwood's head housekeeper for fifteen
years now. She has a gift for making everything run smoothly and a firm but
gentle knack for keeping the others in line. I'm sure you'll be pleased with
her work."
"I know I will," Susanna replied, wishing
there was some way she could make up for her unintended slight. Releasing the
woman's hands, she looked up at Adam, hoping she appeared convincingly
fatigued.
In truth, she did feel drained. Her new position in
life was so overwhelming and her responsibilities so great that her
well-meaning masquerade suddenly weighed very heavily upon her. She needed some
time alone to gather herself together. "If you don't mind, Mr. Thornton, I
would like to see my room now. I could use a short rest before dinner."
His deep brown eyes were concerned, but she also sensed
his agitation. "You're not ill . . ."
"No, simply tired." Then, feeling the need to
reassure everyone present when she saw some nervous sidelong glances, she
added, "The physician gave me a clean bill of health before I left the
ship. You mustn't worry about me."
Yet when Adam still appeared unconvinced, irritation
tweaked at her. What was he so concerned about? "You seem troubled, Mr.
Thornton," she said a bit too curtly, forgetting herself. "Perhaps
you think I
"I'm happy to be here," she said rather
shyly, attempting her best imitation of Camille. "Thank you for your kind
welcome, Prue."
The woman's friendly smile returned and she drew
herself up, her emotions once again under control. "I'm preparing a nice
welcome dinner for you, Miss Camille. Master Cary always liked to dine straight
up at three o'clock, but if you'd like to eat a bit earlier or later—"
"Three o'clock will be fine. It is not my
intention to change the way my father did things at Briarwood."
Her answer seemed to please the woman, who beamed
broadly. "Good enough, Miss Camille. Good enough."
Susanna moved quickly along the line as Adam made more
introductions, so many that the names of kitchen maids, chambermaids, laundry
and dairy maids, the valet, a steward who kept the plantation's books, and
numerous others were soon swimming in her mind. The last person she came to was
an older black woman with short, graying hair beneath her starched cap. Her
deeply lined face was still striking, although she appeared to be perhaps sixty
years old or more. She regarded Susanna with a kind, hopeful expression.
"Do you remember me, Miss Camille? You've surely
changed since I saw you last. You were just a little one then, no taller than
my knees. I wouldn't have known you except for your pretty hair and eyes. My,
you've grown into a fine beauty, just like your mama."
Taken aback, Susanna had no idea who this woman was.
Adam did not readily come to her aid but seemed somewhat surprised himself that
she did not know the woman's name.
"Ertha," he finally murmured, after an
awkward silence.
Susanna flushed warmly, embarrassed that she'd
forgotten all about Camille's childhood nurse.
Camille had always spoken of Ertha fondly—the woman had
been like a mother to her, Constance Cary having died when Camille was barely
one year old—but she had never really given Susanna any clear description of
her. Camille had been so young when Captain Keyes had escorted her to England
that her recollections of the woman were uncertain at best. Camille had simply
remembered Ertha for her warm, constant presence; her soft, crooning voice
singing her to sleep with lullabies.
Hoping to compensate for her blunder, Susanna turned
back to the woman, who looked crestfallen, and took her hands, squeezing them
gently.
"Of course. Forgive me, Ertha. I don't know what
came over me. It's been so long . . ."
"Don't trouble yourself, child," Ertha said
graciously, although some of the light had left her eyes. "It was a long
time ago. I shouldn't have expected that you might remember me."
Again silence fell between them, broken when Adam
interjected, "Ertha has been Briarwood's head housekeeper for fifteen
years now. She has a gift for making everything run smoothly and a firm but
gentle knack for keeping the others in line. I'm sure you'll be pleased with
her work."
"I know I will," Susanna replied, wishing
there was some way she could make up for her unintended slight. Releasing the
woman's hands, she looked up at Adam, hoping she appeared convincingly
fatigued.
In truth, she did feel drained. Her new position in
life was so overwhelming and her responsibilities so great that her
well-meaning masquerade suddenly weighed very heavily upon her. She needed some
time alone to gather herself together. "If you don't mind, Mr. Thornton, I
would like to see my room now. I could use a short rest before dinner."
His deep brown eyes were concerned, but she also sensed
his agitation. "You're not ill . . ."
"No, simply tired." Then, feeling the need to
reassure everyone present when she saw some nervous sidelong glances, she
added, "The physician gave me a clean bill of health before I left the
ship. You mustn't worry about me."
Yet when Adam still appeared unconvinced, irritation
tweaked at her. What was he so concerned about? "You seem troubled, Mr.
Thornton," she said a bit too curtly, forgetting herself. "Perhaps
you think I
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