“Milly weren’t a bad girl.” She smiled and found a clean spot on the apron to wipe her face. “Willful sometimes, aye, that she were. Men gave her trinkets and coins sometimes, and she came to think they would give her whate’er she wanted. She made up stories about some o‘ them. Oh, I know, Mister Ruark, what she said about you and her, but I’m aware ye never touched ’er. She used to cry in ‘er pillow cause ye wouldn’t pay no mind to ’er. When I’d wash yer clothes, she’d sit an‘ moon over ye.”
“Mrs. Hawkins,” Ruark began gently, “were there any others who were—steady?”
“Many others,” the woman sniffed and blew her nose loudly. “But none that lasted. Oh—there was one lately, but I don’t know who. She never would say and only met him at night, far away from here.”
“Mister Ralston never—” Trahern could not put it to words.
“Nay, not him. He always said she was cheap trash. Even hit at her once with that little whip o‘ his.” The woman laughed briefly. “Milly teased him. Called him old stick bones and sour face.”
The tears began to flow again, and the woman’s shoulder shook with suppressed sobs. Shanna rose quickly and went to comfort her. Mrs. Hawkins was half a head taller, but the two of them put their heads together and spoke softly.
When Mrs. Hawkins calmed, she bent and kissed Shanna on the cheek. “Go now, child,” she smiled. “Ye’ve done me good, but we would be alone now for a while.”
Orlan Trahern ventured, “If you have a need, madam, do not hesitate.” He paused then added. “Milly left a sign in the sand. An ‘R’ she traced. Do you know of any—”
Mrs. Hawkins shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry meself about Milly’s signs, sir. She never took ter writin‘.”
A long, quiet moment passed before Ruark offered, “I’ll come by tomorrow to fix the roof.”
There was nothing left to be said, and the three departed. The ride back to the manor was overlong and very quiet.
Chapter 23
OCTOBER WAS MIDDLE-AGED, and the Hampstead was in port for a general replenishing before she would bear Trahern and his extensive entourage to Virginia. While his party visited the Beauchamps, the brigantine and the schooner would ply the coastal colonies in trade. Meanwhile, the mill grew like a well-nurtured mushroom. Each day saw its completion nearing, and a crude blade hammered out by the blacksmith was installed until a better one arrived from New York. In fact, several blades for different purposes had been ordered at Ruark’s insistence, and it was a grand day when the Marguerite arrived with all of them aboard.
The gloom of Milly’s death was set aside when Gaitlier and Dora came to the manor house and shyly announced their intentions to marry. After sharing a toast for the occasion, Shanna pressed them into taking a ride about the island with Ruark and herself, only to order the carriage halted before a small building, and there to introduce the prospective bridegroom to the school she had long ago urged her father to build. Gaitlier was ecstatic over the crates of books, slates, and other implements of learning Shanna had shipped home during her own years of instruction. Amid profuse and enthusiastic assurances that he would consent to be the island’s schoolmaster, Gaitlier and Dora began to unpack the largess of materials and were left in a welter of happiness.
Amid this activity, Gaylord Billingsham became to all appearances entrenched into the lifestyle of Los Camellos. He did not seem overly affected by Shanna’s rebuff and not at all inclined to relieve his host of his presence, however strained Trahern’s graciousness was becoming. The knight’s manners were polished; his arrogance subdued, if only a trifle; his benevolence almost monkish.
Only two major disruptions disturbed the normal life on the island. One occurred when Gaitlier opened his school for the first day. As acting governor, Trahern had decreed that all children between the ages of seven and twelve should be present and that the only excusals would be made by him. This brought a few objections as some of the older children were well ingrained into the families’ economic system. It was not until he personally made an appearance at the homes and kindly pointed out the probability of increased earnings that the goal of having all the children attend school was met. Even then, it was a sad moment when it became known that most of the older children had not the slightest understanding of the rudiments of writing, reading, or ciphering. The older boys had somehow gained the idea that school was a place to have fun, and Gaitlier was soon ensconced as a beast with a hickory stick ever in hand. By the time the first week had passed, however, they were familiar with the proper decorum and began to look upon the small, seemingly meek man with a new respect.