“Armstrong,” he said. “Nicole is my wife.”
Ellen stood still for a moment, holding Nicole’s hand. Then she dropped it and exuberantly hugged Nicole. “His wife! I am so very, very happy for you. You couldn’t find a better man unless you married mine.” She released Nicole and hugged Clay. “Why didn’t you tell us? This whole county could have used a wedding! And this house especially. There hasn’t been any company since James and Beth died.”
Nicole was very sensitive to Clay’s reaction to Ellen’s words. Visibly, he didn’t move, but she felt a current pass through him.
In the distance, a deep horn sounded.
“That’s Horace,” Ellen said as she turned back to Nicole. “We have to get together. I have so many things to tell you. Clay has a long list of bad habits, one of which is being too antisocial. Now I know all that’ll change.” She glanced about the wide hallway. “Beth would be so glad to see this house come alive again. Now you twins come and give me a hug.”
As Ellen hugged the children, the horn sounded again, and she ran out the door and down the path to the sloop at the wharf where her husband waited for her.
When she was gone, it seemed suddenly quiet in the hall. Nicole looked at the three who looked at the open door where their friend had just left, and she burst out laughing. “Come on,” she laughed, and held out her hands to the twins. “I may not be Ellen, but I think I can put some sunshine back into this day. Do either of you know what ice cre
am is?”
The children timidly took her hands and followed her into the dining room. Nicole hurried to the ice house and back. When she returned, she carried pewter bowls that were so cold she had to use potholders. As the twins put the first bite of ice cream into their mouths, they looked at her with love.
“I think you’ve won them,” Clay said as the twins dug into the creamy stuff. For herself and Clay, she topped the ice cream with brandied fruit.
Hours later, when the twins were in bed, she remembered that neither she nor Clay had eaten much supper. As she went down the stairs, Clay stood there, a tray in his hand.
“Personally, I’d like a little more for supper. Join me?”
They went to the library, and Nicole enjoyed the hastily contrived meal even if it was a little odd. Clay had made sandwiches out of thick slices of bread and smoked oysters, slathering both in hot mustard from Dijon.
“Who are they?” Nicole asked between bites.
“I guess you mean the twins.” He sat in one of the red leather chairs, his long legs propped on the edge of the desk. “They’re my brother’s children.”
“Is that the James and Beth Mrs. Backes spoke of?”
“Yes.” His answer was almost hard in its brevity.
“Would you tell me about them?”
“They’re seven years old. You know their names, and—”
“No, I mean your brother and sister-in-law. I remember Bianca mentioning that they died while you were in England.”
He took a very long drink of beer, and Nicole got the feeling he was struggling with something inside himself. When he spoke, his voice seemed far away. “My brother’s sloop capsized. They drowned together.”
Nicole understood what it was to lose part of your family. “I think I understand,” she said quietly.
Clay stood suddenly, nearly knocking the chair over. “You can’t understand. No one could.” He left the room.
Nicole was stunned at his vehemence and remembered Bianca saying that Clay didn’t seem to care that his brother had been killed, that he went ahead and proposed as if nothing had happened. Yet Nicole had seen what happened at the mere mention of their names.
Standing, she started to clear away the empty plates but stopped. It had been a long day, and she was very tired. Leaving the dusty library, she went upstairs to the room Clay had given her, and it took only moments to undress and climb into bed, where she was asleep almost instantly.
The next morning, the early sunlight and the bright prettiness of the room made her smile. Maybe this room had been Beth’s. As she went to the wardrobe, she thought that soon it would most likely be Bianca’s, but she did not like the thought and refused to linger on it.
As she was looking into the wardrobes, she heard noises through the door. Yesterday, she’d had no time to explore the upstairs. One door led into the hallway, and the second door must lead to the twins’ room. Still smiling, she opened it, only to be confronted by a half-dressed Clay.
“Good morning,” he said, ignoring her blush.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know…I thought the twins—”
He reached for his shirt. “Would you like some coffee?” he asked, nodding toward a pot on a table. “I’d offer you tea, but we Americans aren’t as partial to tea as we used to be.”