Dulcie's Gift. Ruth Langan

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      And then another thought intruded. Sarah. The woman’s name was Sarah. That was what Cal had called her in the boat. She shivered, recalling dark, angry eyes, the threatening, ominous stance. Did she look like Sarah? she wondered. Was that why he was forever scowling at her?

      “Fortunately,” Barc added with a chuckle, “I do not share my brother’s problems. In fact, quite the contrary. There were so many ladies waiting for my return I was forced to lavish attention on dozens of them. It’s quite exhausting work, which continues to drain me more with each passing evening.”

      Dulcie managed to smile at his joke, grateful that he always seemed able to relieve the tension. But his aunt was still frowning.

      When Robert appeared at Dulcie’s side with a cup of tea, she accepted gratefully. “Thank you, Robert,” she murmured. “Where would you like us to begin work today?”

      He looked beyond her to Aunt Bessie, who said, “You can begin on the upper floor today. I would like the bedrooms thoroughly cleaned and aired.” She wrinkled her nose and added, “Barclay’s room positively reeks of cigar smoke whenever I pass by. And Darwin has accumulated so many books it’s a wonder he is able to find his bed.”

      Across the table, Dar blushed clear to his toes, but as was his custom, he said nothing in his own defense.

      Starlight’s eyes danced with unconcealed joy. “You have books to read, Dar?”

      When he merely nodded, Barc answered for him. “It’s my younger brother’s passion. I believe he would rather read than eat or sleep.”

      “I envy you,” the young woman said shyly.

      “Would…would you care to borrow one or two of my books?” Dar asked.

      Starlight was suddenly as shy as he. “Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly. But thank you.”

      Both of them seemed to become deeply engrossed in the food on their plates.

      Barc pushed away from the table. “It’s time we got to work. By now, Cal has probably plowed another acre. Or five. He seems in an especially dark mood today. That always means more work than usual.”

      Dar stood and followed him from the room without a word. For a moment Aunt Bessie watched them go with a look of sadness in her eyes. Then, as if pulling herself back from her thoughts, she faced the two young women.

      “You may begin with Barclay’s room. I’ll send the children along to help after they’ve eaten their breakfast.” As Dulcie and Starlight got up from the table, she added, “But don’t bother with Calhoun’s room. He left word that he did not want anything disturbed.”

      

      Barc’s room did indeed reek of cigar smoke. And whiskey. A crystal decanter of aged bourbon stood on the nightstand, along with an impressive array of legal tomes, which showed evidence of having been much read.

      Dulcie and Starlight threw open the windows and stripped the bedding. At Dulcie’s insistence, Starlight was allowed to help only with lighter tasks, which would not tax her fragile strength.

      With Robert’s help Dulcie hauled the feather mattress outside, where she beat it and left it in the sun to air. When the children had finished breakfast, they helped scrub the floors until they gleamed, under the stern, watchful eye of Aunt Bessie. Nathaniel again worked on the stones of the fireplace until all the soot had been removed.

      In Dar’s room Dulcie and Starlight found a lantern still burning beside a pile of books on his night table.

      “Absentminded,” Starlight muttered as she began to clean the blackened chimney of the lantern.

      “Look at all the books!” Dulcie exclaimed.

      There were history books stacked on the hearth. Books on astronomy, science, biology on a table near the window. Mathematics books, English textbooks, poetry peeking out from beneath his bed.

      “Do you think anyone could read all these?” Starlight asked.

      “Of course,” Dulcie replied. “Why else would they be here?”

      Starlight seemed awestruck as she flipped through the pages. “So many things to read. To understand. To know. He must be…brilliant.”

      Dulcie found herself agreeing, though she said nothing. The shy man who inhabited this room showed a curious, questing mind. It would seem, she thought as she and Starlight filled a pitcher with fresh water and returned clean rugs to the floor, that Dar Jermain was more complex than he appeared. Though the man said very little, he was obviously well versed on a variety of subjects.

      Aunt Bessie’s room was a curious mix of neatness and clutter. Her huge four-poster was mounded with pillows.

      “Seven,” Starlight exclaimed in surprise as she began removing them. “Imagine that. How can anyone use seven pillows?”

      “Perhaps she’s a restless sleeper,” Dulcie said as she stripped the rest of the bedding.

      Aunt Bessie’s armoire was a model of efficiency, her gowns hung in orderly rows, shoes set in pairs beneath, hats and gloves laid out on a shelf above. Her jewelry, on the other hand, carelessly spilled from a satin case and covered almost every inch of her dressing table. The mantel above the fireplace was crammed with more crystal figurines, heavy silver candlesticks, various bric-a-brac and souvenirs from Bessie’s world travels.

      A chaise was pulled up in front of the fireplace. Tossed negligently over it was an ornate Oriental dressing gown.

      “Dulcie,” Starlight called, tracing a finger over the patterns on the silk, “whatever are these?”

      “They would appear to be Chinese characters,” Dulcie said.

      “Do you think Aunt Bessie has been all the way to China?”

      Dulcie smiled. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”

      “Just think,” Starlight said with a sigh. “She has led such an exciting life, and I’ve never been anywhere except Charleston. And, of course, this island.”

      Dulcie glanced out the window, her gaze drawn to the figures working in the distant field. “Papa used to say it doesn’t matter where you live. It’s how you live that counts.”

      

      It was dinnertime. Upstairs in the hallway Clara clutched Dulcie’s hand so tightly her knuckles were white from the effort. She and Fiona were about to be presented to the household, and she was plainly nervous. Dulcie gave her a reassuring smile, and when Fiona and the others joined them, the group descended the stairs.

      As they entered the dining room, Cal, Barc and Dar were standing to one side of the room talking among themselves. All three men had, as usual, changed from their work garb into white shirts and dark suits.

      Aunt Bessie, already seated at the head of the table, wore a gown of black satin, with a rope of iridescent pearls that shimmered in the candlelight. Her hair had been swept up into an elegant knot secured with jeweled combs.

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