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Part II
Chapter 16
April, 1755
Elliott leaned over to tuck a stray curl under Alanna's cap. "You look tired," he said.
Alanna shook her head, then laughed when she had to cover a wide yawn. "What about you? I doubt that you've been able to sleep any better than I have, since we left home."
"It didn't even seem like home anymore."
Alanna looped her arm through Elliott's and rested her head on his shoulder. "Your parents miss Melissa terribly. Perhaps in time..."
"The problem isn't grief," Elliott interrupted. "It's shame. As for Byron, I don't think he's really been himself since last summer. He may have already rejoined the militia by the time we get back home."
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Alanna had also noted the change in Byron, but she hadn't seen the same restlessness in Elliott. "What about you? Will you follow his example, if he's accepted another commission?"
"No. It's not that I don't believe in the British cause, because I do. I just don't want to be responsible for any more deaths. That doesn't sound very manly, does it?"
"Shouldn't a man's character be judged by the way he lives, not by how much destruction he causes?"
"That's a comforting thought, until you consider how much harm Hunter has done our family. If he's to be judged on the pain he's caused us, then he's already doomed to hell, if he believes in it."
That they would see Hunter soon, perhaps within the next hour, was causing Alanna nearly unbearable anxiety. She had lost count of how many times Elliott had written, half a dozen at the very least, but all to no avail. That winter she had watched Christian grow, while her confusion and despair had deepened. He was such a beautiful child. He seemed to have inherited Melissa's charm and his father's dashing good looks. She hoped that in addition to those blessings, he hadn't also been cursed with his parents' faults.
She had frequently recalled her few brief conversations with Hunter, but she could detect no hint of the cold indifference with which he had ignored Elliott's pleas for a response. If only he had written to say he had no interest in his son, it would have been enough to assure her she could raise Christian without the fear that he might someday be taken from her. But no, Hunter had not bothered to provide her with even minimal peace of mind.
"Randolph O'Neil will miss you terribly," Elliott teased.
Embarrassed, Alanna pretended to study the banks of the Hudson River, as she replied, "He's a wonderful man. Truly he is."
"Well, he certainly excels in patience. Either that, or he's beyond the age when desire makes something more than friendship enviable."
"That's unlikely. He's only forty-three."
"Only forty-three," Elliott mimicked. "You ought to be looking for a father for Christian, who's closer to your age."
The barge on which they were traveling was too crowded with freight to provide any place for Alanna to go to avoid such impertinent questions, but she certainly didn't enjoy them. "Is what I want so obvious?"
"It is to me, but then I know you better than any other man ever will."
"That's probably true, but what about you? Neither you nor Byron has seen much of Robin and Sarah lately."
Elliott understood she was merely trying to distract him, and placed his hand over hers to keep her close. "Have they complained to you?"
"They are too sweet to complain; however, they have hinted vaguely about neglect."
Elliott was amused by her choice of words. "I can't imagine them being all that vague."
"Perhaps I don't listen to them as closely as I should."
"Nor do I," Elliott admitted. After a long pause, he began a hesitant confession. "I've been thinking about something for quite awhile now. I've not said anything to you, because I knew that until we settled things with Hunter, you'd not accept a proposal from Randolph."
"He hasn't offered one."
"He has no idea where we've gone or why, does he?"
