Chapter 2, Part 2   

November, 1815  -   Boston, Massachusetts

Almost an hour later, Marleigh removed the saddle from Lightening and waved the saddle blanket over his back to cool the stallion down. Drawing a fresh bucket of cool water, she let him drink while she rubbed him down with a cloth, and then curried his coat.

"Miss Marleigh, I swear you are going to get me fired," called out the stable master, as he strode toward her.

"That's absurd! You know Father emphatically believes caring for one's own horse creates a closer bond between horse and rider. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Wallace, you know only Mother objected to my grooming a horse. That, and wearing gloves, which I also have forgone."

She thought about commenting how gloves would have prevented her from using her sling this morning, but decided against mentioning the danger in her solitary ride.

"It's been ten years since her passing, why persist in saying you'll 'get fired' over me taking care of my own horse?" She continued brushing down the big horse while they spoke.

"Why? Because I have nothin' to do, that's why. With just you 'n your father, the only time I have any work is when I clean the stalls, get the carriage ready in the mornin' and put it away in the evenin'. I dream of the day I can earn my wages, again."

"How about one of your famous pig roasts before winter arrives?"

"Well, now I'll be happy to, the day you announce your marrying Thomas Radcliff."

Marleigh rolled her eyes. "I'm thinking about it."

"You've been thinkin' 'bout it for more than two year now. What's the hold up?"

"He doesn't ride, he doesn't fence, he doesn't shoot, and he doesn't work. His idea of a hard day is spending more than half an hour at his tailor's shop. He can be amusing, and he is a good dance partner, but that is not my notion of an ideal man, much less husband material.

"Besides, there is something not right. If he were truly interested in me, you would think he would call on me at home, occasionally. He seems to have no actual desire to spend time with me. I just realized - he is using me as a convenient partner- so he can play cards and attend parties, but not be considered 'available.'

"Well, thanks for our little talk, Wallace. That cleared things up for me. I'm done with Thomas Radcliff." She put the curry brushes in the tack room as Wallace followed her.

"Don't you thank me; I don't have nothin' ta do with yer courtin'. Ya think yer father is gonna be happy about this?"

"Actually, he will be ecstatic. He never cared for Radcliff."

"Oh, well then, s'alright."

Marleigh gave him a bright smile, teasing, "So, I can tell Father you talked me into giving Radcliff the old heave-ho?"

Wallace didn't bother to answer, gave her a pretend frown, shaking his head and grumbling as he walked off, "Don't know why I bother."

From the stables, Marleigh entered the back hall of the house adjacent to the kitchen. She sat on a bench to remove her boots, put on her slippers, and washed her hands at the basin. The persnickety cook, Mrs. Warner, insisted everyone must wash hands when entering her kitchen domain. Marleigh wondered into the kitchen.

"Mrs. Warner, is that the aroma of your famous spice cakes?

"No, it is not. It is your favorite shortbread cookies baking. Sit down, dear. I'll get you some fresh hot tea and the cookies will be ready in a twinkle.

***

William Barrett wondered into his study where his daughter, Marleigh sat in her favorite chair, reading.                           

"What's the news? I take it the Wakefield Cotillion last night was pleasurable? What was the mysterious demonstration they promised?" he asked as he sat down in his own leather club chair.

"It was very nice. The Wakefield's and Mrs. McMasters send their regards. I danced with Thomas several times and a few others. The demonstration was a type of music box; you had to wind it up, and it played an exciting gypsy tune while little figurines of young men and women danced together. They were stunningly well-done miniatures. Most intriguing. A Wakefield relative in Russia sent it.

"Oh, and I decided today, that I am not accepting Thomas Radcliff's proposal."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I just realized he is just not someone I could ever marry. I like him for a friend."

"I won't say that you are wrong. I have never thought he was the man for you."

"I know. In fact, I think perhaps I won't marry at all. That wouldn't destroy any plans you have, would it?"

"Not at all, sweetheart. However, you should reconsider that sentiment."

"Why?"

"Marriage can be a wonderful adventure. Love is very important to personal contentment. And children! You are the best thing your Mother and I ever did. You would be missing a truly amazing experience. You'll make a wonderful Mother, Marleigh."

"Perhaps, but I have yet to meet someone that would make a wonderful father ―or husband. Besides, I enjoy working. I meet lots of men there, but none with whom I'm interested… well, there is Captain Hawthorne." 

"Hawthorne is married!"

"Exactly! All the good ones are already taken."

Copyright: Gloria Goldsmith, July 17, 2016