Hummingbirds Know Where to Fly, page 11
“Oh,” I replied, intently listening to him.
“He wisnae the same as my uncles. He was controlled and measured with a temper weel guarded. Yet, when his temper was loose, he was a cold and calculating man—save fur the exhibition of his unguarded wrath over the correspondence I recall him having received,” Leif said.
“I see… But, did the both of you have a good relationship with each other?” I inquired.
“I reckon we had a respectable bond,” he answered.
“That’s good,” I acknowledged.
“Yet, I shall treat my own bairns in a different manner,” he stated earnestly.
“Oh? In what way?”
“I shall adore them with great affection instead,” he said.
“That would be really nice.”
“Indeed.”
“Well,” I reconsidered hesitantly, “I suppose that’ll be fine so long as you don’t wind up spoiling them rotten.”
“Alas, how micht I help myself, as they will come from ye?” He smiled at me with such affection, my heart skipped a beat.
“You’re silly.” I nudged him in the ribs a little and could feel my cheeks warming since I knew he could see them blushing when I glimpsed at him. He lightly chuckled and gave me a little wink, evidently amused by me.
“Ye need not be modest,” he said.
“I’m not,” I differed self-consciously.
“Are ye not?”
“No.”
“Hmph.”
Though I refused to glance at him again, and decidedly kept my gaze on Amity still sleeping, I knew that he was grinning at me.
“So where in France did you live with your dad?” I asked, returning to our original topic of discussion.
“My father took residence in Versailles,” Leif informed me.
“How lovely,” I recognized. “I imagine, though, there must have been some culture shock for you?”
“A curious way tae express it—aye, ’twas quite unusual. I say 'twas raither beautiful—the food, the dress, the music… even the air was beautiful. La beauté est partout dans la cour de ma cousine,” he recalled. It occurred to me just now that, albeit through illegitimacy, Leif was biologically King Louis XV’s cousin. He was first cousins once removed with Louis XIV and second cousins with Louis XV to be exact as I continued to learn. Quite frankly, I was silently stunned and imagined myself having a coronary attack the more information I kept learning about Leif. I didn’t respond as I listened to him speak about his family. Instead, I just remained as I was, resting close against him quietly listening. “’Tis whaur I learnt my most courtly manner,” Leif concluded.
“I see. Didn’t you say that you were also educated by Benedictine monks there?”
“Aye.”
“When did you leave for the monastery?”
“’Twas a month later from when I became acquainted with my father. My father instead had me tutored daily by a monk at our residents as he came tae visit us.”
“Oh… Your mother?”
“Aye?”
“You said that she died when you were born?”
“Aye.”
“Do you sometimes wonder about her?”
“Certainly, I ponder her upon occasion. Yet, I have this—” Leif broke off, abruptly reaching beneath his cloak and greatcoat. He retrieved a timepiece from his coats. He pushed the back panel off to the side, and it opened. A miniature portrait painting of a fair skinned, blue-eyed, blonde-haired girl with pink lips had been captured. “This is my mother,” Leif said, passing the image to my hand for me to see. I straightened from his shoulder and gazed at the pretty likeness. I supposed she couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, and I was captivated by her youth as a wife and mother.
“She appears very pretty,” I acknowledged.
“My father bestowed it upon me when I entered my cousin Louis’ guard,” he told me while thoughtfully looking at her likeness now in my hand.
“I see,” I replied, examining the image. “I think you really favor her.”
“Aye, I have her fair hair raither than my father’s,” he commented.
“Your dad had dark hair?”
“His was quite swarthy indeed—more brown than black, unlike yer own ebony locks.”
“Oh,” I replied attentively. “How old did you say she was when she gave birth to you?”
“She was twenty.”
“Twenty,” I echoed pensively.
“Aye.”
“Do you know what happened to her, exactly? Did she become sick after you were born?”
“Nae…” Leif hesitated. I looked expectantly at him, wanting to know.
“What was it?” I prompted carefully, sensing him.
“She couldnae withstand the birth,” he revealed tentatively.
“Oh…” I responded fearfully.
“The physic had tae retrieve me from her womb lest I would have perished as weel,” he said.
“Oh my gosh!” I gasped horribly. My mouth suddenly went dry, and a bone-chilling sensation crept up my spine sending a shudder throughout my nerves. “I’m sorry,” I said as I carefully clasped the image closed over the watch and handed it back to him.
Leif quietly gathered the ornate, glinting gold timepiece from my fingers and returned it beneath his coats. I was shaken by the thought; for all I knew I could be pregnant right now, I thought—and, there was no way of knowing about it until I got my period which I had lost track of. God, how I wish I could get my hands on a prompt pregnancy test right now. But, then if I found out that it was too late—then what? All these disconcerting thoughts swiftly arrived and swirled around in my mind, sharply reminding me of my birth control predicament.
“However,” Leif began again, “I was told that my mother was of a delicate nature. She had succumbed tae a number of illnesses as a lass.”
“Really?” I uttered uncertainly.
“Aye. Although yoo’re quite fine and slight, I dinnae see that yoo’re fragile as many other lasses like my mother. Yoo’re soond and sturdy. Yoo’re well made. Yoo’ve got a guid, wee rump upon ye. Yer hips are wide enough—fit fur bearing bairns,” he assessed assuredly, observing me. I returned my gaze to his, suddenly feeling like he was describing a cow or some other kind of livestock animal.
“Well, I’m glad you’re so confident,” I said, embarrassed.
“Aye, weel, ’tis the truth. ’Tis anither reason why I desire ye,” he replied confidently.
“Seriously?” I questioned.
“I ken yoo’re guid fur bearing my bairns,” he said.
“Okay…” I replied awkwardly. “Well—I hope that I have more to offer to you than just popping out litters of children,” I said nervously.
“Aye,” he agreed, grinning comfortably.
“Good.”
“It wouldnae be half correct without the favor of yer conversation, and the pleasure of yer company,” he said genuinely.
“You’re so sweet.”
“I’m pleased that ye do find me agreeable.”
“Well…” I paused for a second, then admitted, “you kind of make it easy for me to find you so pleasant.”
“How very kind of ye tae kindle my heart by saying so,” he said with a heartened look. I felt his hand gently return caressing my ringlets between his fingers. I sensed him enjoying the feel of my hair as he carefully toyed with it. I think perhaps two and a half inches had been added to the length since I had arrived here. It hung low passed my shoulders, resting at breast level. “Yer tresses are not at all dull, but free… soft and gleaming as silk. So fine yer locks are,” he examined again.
“Really?” I responded unusually, gathering a ringlet between my own fingers and bringing it into view.
“Aye,” he scrutinized.
“Oh, well, I don’t know,” I said with a little shrug. He leaned slightly, and I felt his nose bury within my locks. He sniffed long and deep, then straightened and appeared to muse some more.
“What did you do that for?”I asked curiously.
“I wished tae smell ye,” he answered plainly.
“Why?”
“I dinnae ken,” he replied. “I reckon that I’m fond of yer scent.”
“Oh…”
“I still cannae place it—’tis an unusual aroma… quite strange, but pleasant. I fancy it.”
“You do?”
“Aye. I enjoy drowning in yer aroma.”
“Okay…” I replied strangely. “I think you’re being a little strange right now.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes.”
“I reckon that I micht with ease say the same of ye,” he noted jokingly.
“Not really.”
“Quite so,” he rejected, shaking his head a bit as I noticed the slight grin slanting his lips. I felt my own lips begin mirroring his before I glanced down at my cold palm resting in my lap. I decided to return my chilled hand inside my kid glove, and our conversation drifted into silence for a moment as I wiggled my fingers back inside of it. But, I thought of something else to ask him, and I shifted my gaze back to him.
“Did your dad ever remarry?” I inquired.
“He didnae,” Leif said, lifting his gaze from my adjusting palm and returning his eyes to mine.
“Did you sometimes wish that you had a step-mother in your life as a child?” I was curious about knowing more about him—particularly when he was a child and what his family was like.
“Weel, my father had several mistresses,” he mentioned nonchalantly.
“Really?” I responded, extremely surprised.
“Aye.”
“A harem?” I couldn’t help but feeling shocked in spite of my awareness of how the shameful world went around.
“I wouldnae say so,” he disagreed.
“Well, how many?”
“I cannae say—several of which I am certain. Five, I do recall whilst I was a laddie.”
“Five?”
“Aye,” Leif replied naturally.
“I’d pretty much say that’s a harem,” I responded scandalously.
“Nae. Not at all.” He chuckled, apparently amused by my reaction.
“Then you explain it to me, because I don’t know about that,” I insisted.
“Very weel, I shall. My father, from what I kent, loov’d women and indeed cared fur them. Whilst he wisnae exclusive tae one or the other, he was continuously guid tae them. He treated them weel at the time he was engaged with them—gave them gifts when they deserved it, traveled with them and minded them,” Leif divulged.
“But neither one of them was good enough to marry,” I presumed disapprovingly.
“He had his wealth tae protect,” he said.
“He didn’t trust them?” I gave him a strange look.
“Nae,” he replied frankly.
“Oh… well, what kind of women where they that he felt like he couldn’t trust them?”
“The sort which desire position, power and wealth above all else.”
“I see…”
“’Tis a common trait amongst many women,” he said obviously.
“Not just women. There are plenty of men that desire that too.”
“Aye, yet I am referring tae women as I am speaking through a man’s experience with regard tae his position. ’Tis through a man’s position which offers a woman’s stature.” I nodded a little in response, uncomfortably considering his perspective. “However, thaur was one—Lady Philippine, who remained my father’s mistress fur the longest period till his death. I believe he was fondest of her,” Leif explained.
“Why was he fondest of her?” I asked curiously.
“She was wed tae Lord Allard. Unlike the others, she was of nobility and shared much in common with my father. My father once told me that she desired nought from him but his loove. She and my father waur fair tae one anither—and I recall that she was pleasant, and courteous tae me. She was devoted tae my father unlike the others, and continuously treated him with genuine kindness. He regarded her well… She was most like a mother tae me whilst I was in France,” Leif remembered.
“I see… well—it seems like it was actually a good thing for you to have had someone like her in your life while growing up if she was loving toward you,” I recognized in spite of what he was saying.
“Aye.”
“Do you still stay in contact with her?”
“We correspond.”
“That’s nice. Does she have any children?”
“Nae.”
“Oh. So, you’re really like a son to her.”
“I reckon.”
“Hmm… That’s nice.”
Suddenly, a little yawn overtook me, and I realized that I was tired. I naturally leaned against him and placed my head on his broad shoulder again. Leif drew me snug against him and wrapped a securing arm around me. The coach lightly swayed, and it started pacifying me. I sensed his lips tenderly pressing against the side of my head, and his warm breath caressing my temple. He began softly singing a gentle soothing melody I thought was nice. The lyrics pertained to a man who asked why his love was forlorn due to the thought of his leaving her, and the man expressed that he could never leave her no matter what occurred because his heart was hers.
The rocking motion and Leif’s lovely, soft baritone pitch were lulling me nicely. In a moment my eyelids grew too heavy, and I closed them as I began drifting toward a nap.
Eight
It was late in the evening when we arrived in Boston. The night sky was clear, and the moon was glowing brightly above us. It illuminated the snow pack in blue fluorescence all around as we made our way through town. Flaming lanterns lit areas along the roads as I recognized brownstones lining the streets. However, I didn't recognize any of the buildings as we rounded the corner to one of the streets, and a bizarre feeling came over me as I realized again the time period in which I was stranded.
We seemed to keep straight for a bit until we bore left and continued straight again for a little while longer. It soon seemed the buildings had grown scattered around town; the area had grown slightly rural, and the street lanterns had gone as we moved along. A handful of scattered houses littered the dark location with windows dimly lit by firelight. We turned again and rode through a gap in a row of fences up a lane cleared from trees.
Soon, a substantially large brick mansion came into view, and the road curved toward the front where we had finally stopped. I peered out the window and discerned several individuals waiting outside by lantern light in the frost before the front door steps. They appeared to be household staff. A man promptly came forth from the steps and approached our coach. He swiftly unlatched the door and pulled it open.
“Good evening, Your Grace. Safe journey I pray?” The man said politely to Leif.
“Guid evening, Quinn. Aye, our journey went weel,” Leif replied cordially as he stepped outside into the snow-covered ground.
“Very well, Your Grace,” Quinn replied in a deep Bostonian accent.
“It appears that ye have remained fit, Quinn,” Leif remarked.
“Aye, Your Grace. No illness amongst us yet,” Quinn said.
“Och, grand!” Leif replied while attentively turning and slightly leaning back inside the coach with his hand stretched out for me to take. I slipped my gloved palm into his proffered hand, and he helped me emerge from the coach out over the snow. I noticed the air smelled significantly different. I could taste the salt in my throat as I breathed in the icy air with the strong scent of wood burning chimney smoke mixed in.
“This is my wife, Her Grace, Duchess of Monteith,” Leif introduced me politely.
“Your Grace,” Quinn acknowledged me with a gracious bow.
“Quinn is my steward and valet,” Leif informed me, shifting his gaze back to me.
“Oh, very nice to meet you Quinn,” I said genially.
“A great pleasure, Your Grace,” Quinn replied to me.
“My niece has accompanied us, Quinn” Leif informed him.
“Aye, Your Grace,” Quinn returned to Leif.
I glanced back into the coach where Amity remained seated still and quiet. I gently motioned to her, and she stirred away from the bench toward my guiding hand.
“My niece is deaf and dumb. She will use the bell tae call as need be,” Leif stated to Quinn as I was drawing Amity near to me.
“Very well, Your Grace,” Quinn said.
“My wife has taught our niece tae express with her hands, as she will continue to instruct her on how tae read and scribe. My wife has made splendid progress with our niece. Our niece is far from dull of wit,” Leif expressed factually.
“What a blessing,” Quinn replied.
“Indeed it is, Quinn.” Leif lightly seized my elbow with his steady hand and proceeded guiding me toward the front steps where the rest of the domestic staff remained standing while bundled from the cold in their outerwear, waiting for us.
Leif began introducing me to them: Elijah, the footman who was promptly called by Quinn to collect the luggage, Faith, Remember, Humility and her daughter Annabelle were among the cooks and scullery maids, Mercy—who stood out to me as the one black individual among the staff and very young looking of about sixteen—was introduced to me as my lady’s maid while Prudence, Sarah, Mary, and Mabel were introduced as the rest of the maid staff. Jonah and his young adolescent son, Samuel, were the coachman and stableboy. They all greeted me with kindness, and I thought that they were all very nice individuals. There were a number of grounds keepers I later learned existed along with gardeners, gamekeepers, and casual male staff.
“Oh!” I gasped unexpectedly as Leif suddenly swept me off my feet high up into his robust arms when we reached the landing above the front doorsteps. “What are you doing?” I uttered breathlessly, surprised by him.
“I am presently taking my bride indoors,” he said obviously.
“Oh,” I laughed lightly, as I recalled the old tradition.
“Aye,” he muttered warmly against my ear while crossing the threshold into the mansion. He paused in the rich, golden yellow ochre, distemper painted foyer and eased me back down to my feet as the household servants ensued indoors after us.
“Thank you,” I said bashfully to him, hearing the front door quietly shutting closed behind us. Leif simply grinned at me, obviously pleased. With everyone inside now sheltered from the cold, the servants promptly dispersed except for Mercy who remained among the three of us standing in the foyer. I thought she seemed particularly nice even though this was my first introduction to her; she had a familiar appearance to me that made me feel more natural around her. Perhaps it was the characteristic of her mocha complexion I recognized as common from where I came. She had nice features that were considered quite attractive among the general twenty first century American population. She also seemed attentive and dutiful, giving me the distinct impression that I could trust her, and that we could become friends. I also thought that she might be repressing a unique bit of mirth as I noticed the twinkle in her raw umber eyes. I thought that I might likely relate to her well, and so I also believed that she and I would get along very well together.
