Caribbean Nanny (closed)

[coyotepondering]

This is a closed thread for McKenna and myself.

It is a historical romance piece set in the caribbean. The background of characters and events will become evident through the story. I hope everyone enjoys.

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1890, Trinidad

Jon Halley stood on the dock, fighting the light of the morning sun to see out, into the bay. Two hours ago one of the boys that hang around the docks had come running up to the house to say that the ship had been spotted and collect his half penny reward. Jon had abandoned his ledger immediately, having the carriage fetched and children alerted. For the last hour he had watched the dot slowly grow and carefully make port and finally begin to unload its cargo of passengers and goods.

At age 40 Jon Halley was weathered by the island and life on it. Although still energetic and well framed his streaks of greying hair and resolute face sometimes gave an impression of more advanced age. And his character has earned him the features but right now there was a knot in his stomach. Having a woman come into his house, taking up many of Mary’s duties is something Jon would do only suffer for his children.

Four months ago he had sent a letter to his law firm in London.

Mister C. Walkens
Barrister at Law
235 Heatherton
London, ENG

Dear Mr. Walkens,

As you well know, you and your firm have been long time associates of my business concerns, representing me in England. As long time associates I hope that you will find it within your grace to aid me in an endeavor that I can not act upon myself, being too far and long gone from God’s country.

As you know, my children, Jon 9 and Miranda 13, have been motherless for eight years. I have endeavored, with the aid of missionaries, to fulfill their educations in science, literature and philosophy. However, my own skills at raising are limited and I increasingly find my time taxed. During their youth this was not difficult as the local maid servants would handle the basic care of them. As they are becoming young adults this concerns me. For while the habits of all children may be the similar, now is when they must learn to act properly and I feel the need to ensure that they have an influence to temper that of these savage islands. Let it be clear that I will take no unwarranted risk with my children, which drives me to this. I have no desire to unburden my duties towards my children on anyone, in fact it is with some reluctance that do for it is a burden I cherish, but for their sakes I must.

I am, in short, looking for a care giver, a nanny, for my children to aid in their instruction and raising. I have separately enclosed authorization for any payments you deem suitable. As this position would require relocation to Trinidad to live with us I understand that some may balk at the position but I am confidant that you can manage this task. There are some benefits to the locale and I will provide for a comfortable home within all my powers.

I thank you in advance for your aid I am sure you will provide.

Sincerely,

Sir Jon Halley

And only a week ago, he had received a simple reply from the barrister.

Sir Jon,

I am writing quickly in hope that you will forgive for the terseness but I must if this letter is to reach the next ship leaving for Trinidad. Speed is of the essence as I wish to give you advance knowledge that we have found a lady meeting all of your requirements and she will be leaving on the next ship after this. She is of excellent credentials and character, who only recently became available and gladly took the opportunity though she could have found another post. The accompanying letters have all the information on her and I interviewed her myself to ensure that she understood that the conditions would be rustic but that you were a gentleman maintaining some kind of civility out there.

You friend,

Christopher Walkens

And the credentials had been excellent but hadn’t reduced Sir Jon’s dread as he eyed each egress from the boat making sure that he wouldn’t miss the nanny.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

Jon Halley stood on the doc, feeling the hand slip from his. As the passenger gained her balance and disengaged from him Jon found himself wishing that the stranger wouldn't. She was a lovely lady and the way she tried to keep her composure reminded him painfully of Mary. Jon looked at her and their eyes met for a second before he politely looked away. She thanked him and asked for assistance. Suddenly Jon realized that he had at some point forgotten how beautiful an English woman’s voice could be but he transparently regained his composure as he looked at her inquiringly.

"I'm looking for a Sir Jon Halley, do you know where I might find his residence?"

“Ah, you’re Ms. Harris then? I came with a carriage to pick you up.”

Sir Jon motioned towards the nearby carriage. It was several years old, made of plain wood and iron work but sturdy as everything had to be to survive the heat and moisture of the island. As Sir Jon turned towards the carriage Megan sees him make a small motion towards her luggage. As the driver and another servant dart forward to grab the trunk Jon notices the nanny step backwards as if frightened. Jon, turns around to the startled woman.

“Don’t be concerned, Abel and Phillipe will take good care of your luggage. Welcome to Trinidad, Ms. Harris. I’m Sir Jon Halley,” and he holds out his hand to her.

She takes his hand and bows lightly, seeing the first crack of a smile at his gratification. It was exactly this kind of propriety that he hoped to impress on his children. As the servants were already loading the trunks onto the carriage Jon led her to the carriage. As they walked several nearby folks took off their hats and hurried their things out of the way. Obviously Sir Jon was a man of some importance here. At the carriage, Sir Jon opened the door, helping Megan up before he got in himself.

Both seated, he kept his voice at the same even measure he had so far, friendly, strong and just a little absent, as if he was always talking here while his thoughts were elsewhere.

“I do have to apologize, Ms. Harris, for the rustic elements. The carriage doesn’t match the standards of an English hanson but little does here. Still, it is a wonderful country in its own way. Its conditions can be harsh and our attire is not what we might wish,” he indicates his own light colored suit, devoid of any adornments except a pocket watch, “but there are Godly rewards out here. The old slaves are a capable people regardless of what you might have read in England, similar to the enlisted men I commanded in the Navy, ranging from the bright and dedicated to dull and shiftless. They lack only education and opportunity. However, it will be lifetimes before the missionaries have completed that mission. In the interim we function as best we can though the islands can sponsor a certain temperament, if you will, that I hope my children can be nurtured away from.”

Sir Jon noticed the lovely auburn hair beginning to stick to her face and handed her a handkerchief. “I’m afraid it will take you a little time to become accustomed to the heat but you will.” He then adverted his eyes outside the carriage as she cleaned up a little and spoke as the carriage moved over the packed dirt rode.

“I do hope that I can make your new home here pleasant. It is about an hours drive to the old plantation house so if you have any questions, I would be pleased to address them.”

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

Jon looks intently at Ms. Harrison, pretending to watch her speak instead of watching the beads of sweat streaking down her reddening skin or the movement of her lips. He watched her dab at her white skin, surprised that he hadn’t noticed how his own had browned over the years and suddenly felt a little embarrassed at his time in the sun.

Instead Sir Jon did what he excelled at, fell back on business, concentrating on the questions.

The children are 9 and 13, is that correct? The barrister in London informed me I would be taking over their education...

“Yes, Ms. Harrison, they are 13 and 9 now though both have birthdays coming up within the season. They are wonderful children and I think you will like them. Their only problem is the island. You have to understand that they know it as home and have grown up in a very relaxed environment with few, well, restrictions on their behavior when outside my presence.”

Sir Jon’s voice trailed off, obviously troubled as he stared into Megan’s eyes. Hearing her ask about the children and their education had triggered something wholly irrational in him, something that made him want to grab her and cry. But again, steeling himself he retreated those emotions to a private place where they wouldn’t trouble him for now and roughly cleared his throat as if dust from the road had gotten in while one hand fiddled with his pocket watch's chain.

“Their education has been mostly monitored by myself and aided by an Anglican. I have taken it upon myself to teach them math and literature and history while Father MacDonald has given them lessons in science, philosophy and religion. While I am loathe to discontinue I would welcome your aid in creating more structured lessons. And Father MacDonald will leave within the year, meaning that I will need you to completely over take those functions.”

"I assume you'll want your daughter to learn the finer arts of womanhood. Have you thought of what will happen to her in the future? Will she go to have a season in London or on to finishing school?

“To be honest I have not considered those options as yet. We still have a few years and I think that we have time to consider it later.” Sir Jon’s voice was firm and definite, leaving no doubt that he did not want to talk about this yet. For a moment silence descended on the carriage, with only the sound of wheels and hooves on dirt audible.

Finally, Sir Jon leaned forward and struck his hand out the window to rap harshly against the wood of the cab. In London Megan might have seen a gentleman do that with his cane but Sir Jon’s hands were obviously as used to labor as a pen.

“I appreciate your resolve Ms. Harrison. Most new arrivals have complained at least three times by now about the heat. We are stopping for water soon. I suggest you refresh yourself and drink plenty of fluids until you become accustomed to the sweltering weather.”

What Sir Jon didn’t tell Megan was that he wanted out of this carriage and away from her, away from her sweat and away from her scent of modest perfume mixed with perspiration. It was driving him mad, driving him to memories of Mary in his arms when they had lived her, how she had never fully gotten use to the heat and how she smelled when he embraced her.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

The carriage slowly pulled over to the side of the road along the grass and palm trees that grew out in a circle a hundred feet wide from the natural spring that was used as watering spot along the road. Sir Jon stepped out, eager for the fresh air and the chance to command himself. He immediately felt ashamed for his weakness. What am I doing? Acting like a madman. Mary is long gone and I can not act this way about a woman just because of some irrational compulsion of memory or thought.

A gulp of fresh air and the sun in his eyes brought him back to the present as he turned around to assist Ms. Harrison out of the carriage. As he looked up Sir Jon realized that it wasn’t completely irrational. She was an attractive woman and obviously self willed, a trait he had always admired regardless of gender or birth. Sir Jon held out his hand, ready for her to take it as she readied herself in the frame of the carriage’s door.

I must apologize to her once I have the chance, perhaps while we are resting. I can apologize for my ill temper by explaining it in the context of my responsibilities. As he looked up for assurance from her strong features that she would understand he noticed a slight wavering in her features. As her outreached hand slipped through his and away Sir Jon suddenly realized that she was falling and jumped forward, half panicking, to catch her.

Without excess effort Sir Jon lifted her and jogged forwards towards the spring as his driver runs a foot behind, equally concerned when he saw the new miss faint. Laying Megan among the blood red wild poinsettia flowers under the palm trees Sir Jon quickly checked her for breathing and pulse.

“Able, you and Phillipe go ahead and get the doctor. She should be fine but I don’t want to move her yet and I want the doctor here as a precaution.”

Her skin was red and breath shallow. Once the two servants were out of sight Sir Jon acted with speed. His fingers still remembered how to open a corset, even after all these years. Now open he grabbed at the handkerchief still in her hands and ran to the pool, filling it with water and returning to dabble it over her skin and pour a little in her mouth.

Sir Jon had loosened the corset just enough to let her breathe, knowing that it was inappropriate but driven by his military training he didn’t even recognize the immodest position. Now however, with her head on his lap and her chest barely hidden he was struck by the delicateness of the lace providing an immodest cover for her flesh. Flushed, Sir Jon made a half hearted attempt to draw some of the laces back over Ms. Harrison’s chest to guard her privacy when he saw her eyes begin to flutter.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

“I cannot… I must have…“

Sir Jon found himself watching the tear fall, striking the exposed swell of Megan’s breasts above where she crossed her arms to cover herself and felt his heart break. Brushing aside the unruly strands of auburn hair Sir Jon leaned forward to kiss Megan’s cheek, kissing at the tear streak under her closed eye. Why did I do that?

Predictably her head snapped around, causing the errant locks to hit Sir Jon across the face. She stared at him wide eyed, shocked and embarrassed.

“I .. I’m ....”

Sir Jon stood and kindly offered his hand. “You are dehydrated Miss Harrison. You will find that even the women who have been here some time betray fashion and rarely use corsets during our warmer months. Now, if you can stand, let us get you to those rocks where you can rest without further damaging your dress and you can reach the water.” His voice was softer, as if he had forgotten himself for a moment.

Megan ran her hand to her cheek. “But, sir...”

Sir Jon watched her hand rub her cheek and noted the tremor in her voice. His eyes narrowed and something seemed to get lost from them. “Miss Harrison, in the Queen’s service if an enlisted man started to panic I would strike him across the face to startle him back to his senses. This seemed more appropriate given the circumstances. I hope you will forgive the distress I have obviously caused and the misappropriation of rights I have claimed as your employer.”

Megan slowly stood, brushing the crushed red flowers off her clothing and noticing that Sir Jon had not escaped them either while kneeling with her with his pants stained in the same color as her dress. Trying to stand and balance with her arms folded over her proved difficult until she felt herself being lifted, by a blank faced Sir Jon holding her elbows.

“Now, Ms. Harrison, let me help you with the retying. Turn around so that I can not see you.”

Sir Jon waited for Megan to turn all the way around and she almost immediately felt his strong hands grabbing the strings tautly and tying them as she adjusted the front.

“Sir, I don’t think its appropriate ...”

With a stern voice, “Ms. Harrison, it was inappropriate for me to get you out of this corset, not get you into it. And that was a medical need though I would still appreciate it if you left it unmentioned.”

As he finished Sir Jon says, “There, all done.” It was said in a soft voice that Megan barely heard, as if it were a habit that Sir Jon didn’t remember having.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

"I'm feeling better now. I hate to be the cause of such excitement..."

Sir Jon, watched the carriage settling, motioning for Able, to wait there as he spoke to Miss Harrison behind him. “Not at all Miss Harrison, you had a bad experience with the heat. It happens to the strongest of my men on occasion without care and they were born to the climate.”

As he turned back to her, Sir Jon locked eyes with Megan’s. They were deep and wonderful pools that he stared into but he saw them quivering like ripples spreading across the surface of a lake. Of course she had been through a great deal today, both physically and mentally. Suddenly he remembered his first day in Trinidad and how no description would have prepared him for the reality of stepping off the boat.

Stiffly, Sir Jon offered Megan his arm to take and began walking her to the carriage, his mind swirling, with confusion. I should tell her that I’m sorry, and apologize for not warning her more forcefully. What if she panics and leaves? What if... But they had already reached the carriage.

Reaching out to open the door, Sir Jon tries to smile, awkwardly, and bows gently for Megan to proceed him, immediately feeling like an idiot and hoping he didn’t appear like one.

Straightening his back he turns to Able, “Where is the doctor?”

“Uh, sir, the Doc said he’d be along shortly.”

Shaking his head, “Well, nothing to do for it. I’m sure we will pass him on the road and can tell him his services aren’t needed. Miss Harrison recovered with only a moment of rest, and barely a second after you left. My concern was wholly unfounded.” With the door still open, Sir Jon tries again to smile at Megan for a second before letting it drop and stiffly climbing into the carriage.

Looking at the somewhat disheveled nanny,“I don’t suppose we should show up quite like this...”, motioning to his own stained pants and Megan’s dress, “so, may I suggest we put off the meetings until dinner and you can rest until then while getting situated in your room? Good, then that will be simple.”

As the drive began again, Sir Jon watched out the windows, quietly, periodically drawn to look over at Megan, and finding her eyes catching him while looking at the window randomly. Screwing up his courage Sir Jon transferred himself to the other seat, looking next to her.

Pointint out the window, “That Miss Harrison, is Granger Stream, it runs throughout the old sugar fields in this area ....” And so, began Megan’s informal education in the local geography of the old plantation as Sir Jon tried to avoid the silence and ease his own panic.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

Sir Jon followed his son’s gaze back to the house to find Miss Harrison looking at him. Standing straight he looked to her handsome features as she approached the french doors that led to the patio.

"Ah, Miss Harrison, I see you've found us."

Sir Jon was glad that she had obviously rested and cleaned up in a new dress but declined to mention it. Her walk was fluid and strong and he found himself impressed with the strength of her gaze as she met his eyes until she looked away to glance around the room. He himself had changed into an informal dark grey suit and was standing on the porch with the children.

“We have tea on the porch if the weather is pleasant, so join us.” Sir Jon motioned to the porch and Miss Harrison nodded in acknowledgment before joining them. The porch was large, embracing the entire side of the house, wide and large enough for social gatherings. So, the handful of large wicker chairs that currently decorated it seemed rather sparse. The sun was still bright but beginning to descend and where it was filtered through the nearby woods it came through as broken and verdant.

Sir Jon had seated himself and two children were with him. Megan recognized them from their descriptions. One was his daughter, Miranda who had walked up behind his chair and stood beside him looking at the new guest. At 13, Miranda was on the edge of woman hood and had brown hair that reminded her of Sir Jon’s without the grey and its length descended to her lower back. The other child was the younger Jon Halley, standing at his father’s feet. At a precious nine, had already inherited his father’s eyes but without any of the intensity that time would bring. Both looked at her curious, but quiet. Their faces already had Sir Jon’s restraint but their fidgeting betrayed them as normal children.

Sir Jon broke the silence, leaning back and checking his pocket watch. “Jon and Miranda? I think you need to go help with the tea.” His tone was soft but firm and Sir Jon smiled easily as he scooted each of his children off into the house, watching them leave before he returned to speak to Miss Harrison, his face relaxed and younger than it had been in the carriage..

“You’re lucky. They’re on their best behavior. Normally they would pester a guest with a hundred questions before you got a chance to sit but I told them that you were tired. I hope you find your quarters suitable?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the servants assisted you?”

“Yes, sir, they were very helpful in getting settled.”

“Good. Well, tomorrow we will go over your activities but for now I want you to settle in. Ah, very good. Here come my two house servants.” Sir Jon smiled and reached out to tussle his name sake’s hair. Both children looked at their father with a grin, as if acknowledging some private joke. Jon Junior carried a small tray of sugar biscuits with him as his sister came up behind him with a tray of cups. Bringing up the far rear was a servant woman with a large tray with a silver tea pot and two smaller jars. As the servant set out the tray on the table the children put theirs on the large tray. The servant reached for the pot but Sir Jon waved his hand.

“You may go Anna. We can handle this among us.” Immediately Miranda stepped forward as Anna left, obviously taking her role as lady of the house seriously. She poured tea for her father first and then took a cup and handed it to Megan.

“Miss Harrison, would you like lemon or milk?” The whole ceremony from the time they left to get the tea was obviously a rehearsed play. Megan looked at Sir Jon whose eyes sparkled a little, watching his children. Immediately Jon Junior stepped forward to offer a the biscuit tray after the tea was poured. Then Miranda prepared her own and her brother’s. The four sat sipping while it was still hot as the noises from the wilderness began to shift with evening. The calls of parrots dominated when the wind died down and Megan felt the heat begin to lessen. The four of them sat in silence as the children played with each other, jokingly poking at each other and the adults watched. Sir Jon would occasionally look over at Megan to watch her watch his children but turned away to hide his face in the shadows when the sadness began to pull at him.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

"Will you excuse me, Sir Jon?" Megan Harrison rose with a spark of boldness and abandoned the role of spectator. Sir Jon raised an eye in query but didn’t act, instead curious.

She joined the children to scamper about and soon Sir Jon was watching them laugh and tease her as they did each other. Miss Harrison was easy going with them, either naturally maternal or wonderfully experienced at earning a child’s trust. In the dying light they became less people than shapes and voices at the edge of the building’s lamps where the green grass turned to black in shadow. Sir Jon had the impression of spirits dancing at the edge of a fire’s light. A pagan ritual like those practiced on the less civilized islands.

She is a stern lady, thought Sir Jon. And proud but her touch is gentle with them. Mary never got a chance to play with them like this though she would sit Miranda on her lap with that same laugh.

Only once did something go wrong when Jon Junior accidentally pushed Miranda down and everything immediately stopped. Sir Jon’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders lurched forward to get up when he heard Megan’s voice. The moment passed and he heard Jon Junior apologize and promise to be more careful in that tone that Sir Jon knew was sincere. The children began running again, as soon Miranda playfully shoved Jon Junior and he ran after her in retaliation.

With the soft padding of her feet on the grass Megan returned to the porch and sat on the edge of the steps where she could still watch the children. With her head raised and peering out, her hands in her lap, she was delicate in profile and Sir Jon watched her watch his children. His face was wistful, caught in conflicting thoughts.

She is lovely. The thought was simple and uncomplicated, unfettered by everything he was feeling but couldn’t articulate even internally. These were feelings about Mary and the children remembering her and about how they needed someone to help raise them. One day Sir Jon would have to articulate these thoughts to understand them himself.

Eventually afternoon turned to night and Sir Jon rose, the noise making Megan turn in surprise. Sir Jon stepped up beside Megan Harrison and looked down to see a single unruly strand of hair get pushed to the side as she looked up at him. “Madam?” Sir Jon lowered his hand to let her take it and assisted her to her feet before turning out to the yard.

“Jon. Miranda. Its time to come in and wash.” His voice raised and was firm. It carried but without the quality of excitement that would make it yelling. Within seconds both children were present. “Excuse us ma’am.” came the chorus from them to Miss Harrison as they went back in the house to get ready for dinner as Sir Jon patted each on the back. As they sprinted off Sir Jon turned to Megan.

“Thank you Miss Harrison, I’m very glad you have gotten along with the children so well. They have really taken to you.” Sir Jon absently reached his hand out to stroke her arm as he spoke, his finger tips stroking her elbow but nearly as soon as he did it he saw her eyes turn to his hand and he jerkedit away. “I... I’m sorry Miss Harrison. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Well, we will have dinner in half an hour but I will be having dinner in my study while working, so I will see you in the morning.” That, was how I used to touch Mary when we talked. To let her know I was paying attention....

Sir Jon turned to walk away and then turned back and cleared his throat.

“Miss Harrison? I know today has been difficult and I hope you understand how welcome you are. However, I think you will quickly become a comfortable member of this household. Thank you for coming to stay with us..” With that Sir Jon went to his study for the evening.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

Sir Jon settled into his study, looking at the ledgers before him and forced his mind away from everything else. For the next several hours Sir Jon poured his mind into the accounts and projects. His mind drifted over expenses, profits and concerns, seeing situations unfold and planning contingencies while documenting every event real and foreseen. Eventually his interrupted afternoon labors were restored and Sir Jon leaned back in his chair to close his eyes. The plantation was doing well but it was never easy. After slavery was abolished earlier in the century the economic status of the islands collapsed. Even now the old plantations were share cropper collectives that rarely survived. Only a few like this one had repurchased enough land to employ locals and negotiate in bulk with European traders. This required constant diligence to resist the appearance of abuse that the locals were sensitive to. Reaching into the breast pocket Sir Jon pulled out his pocket watch to confirm that it was ten in the evening.

Unsettling his thick frame from the chair Sir Jon rose and restored his books to their proper places and left his jacket on his chair, stopping only to remove his pipe and tobacco from the desk drawer. With soft steps he strode through the house, moving up the stairs to look in on his children and see that both were asleep. Not wanting to wake them he shut both doors and returned down the hall, passing briefly by the new nanny’s room where he paused. Frequently up late as need demanded, Sir Jon was accustomed to avoiding disturbing others. He would have to remember to quiet his steps here now that his room was occupied as well. Onward, Sir Jon reached his destination, the french doors for the back porch and stepped through them.

On the lawn Sir Jon finally relaxed, for the first time today. Walking in slow familiar circles Jon unpacked his pipe pouch and prepared the pipe, lighting it with a match struck against his heel. The tobacco was sweet and strong in his lungs and settled his nerves. As a child and in the Navy Jon had enjoyed looking up in the sky, watching the stars emerge from the blackness. Again he lost himself in it. This had been the one thing he had never done with Mary, his place of solace all his life. Here he hadn’t lost a wife, he didn’t have children to raise nor had hundreds of men who could fail their families if he failed them. Here he was insignificant below the stars and blind to the world and cooled of the sweat from beneath his clothes.

But tonight one thought unsettled him. Megan. The taste of her cheek returned to him suddenly as did the feel of her skin. Damn you man, he chided himself. Act appropriately. I would chide my son for this and he is a school boy. Sir Jon refreshed the pipe and relit it, and caught a blur of motion at the doors. He turned towards the house to see a person, framed by light and hidden at the french doors. It could only be Miss Harrison, illuminated by the interior lamps. Against the light she was hidden but the light revealed the shape of her through her gown. But the glimpse was only there for a second before she was gone. Undoubtly she had seen his pipe he realized. The voice returned, You will have to remember old man that another house member now likes to be outside at night. After she left sir Jon returned to pacing, trying to recapture his sense of isolation but now something was dancing around him where he couldn’t see it. It was an ethereal figure with a woman’s shape.

Giving up, Sir Jon returned to his room and undressed. Washing himself in the bedside basin he lay down and tried to sleep but a single thought disturbed him. It kept him from sleeping. The thought was a memory of when he had touched her arm. Sir Jon saw Megan’s face in his mind and it was startled. That was the simple part. It was the eyes that complicated his mood and disrupted his ease. They had gone wide but were clear, unmarked by anger or offense. Maybe. Or maybe he didn’t know her well enough yet to judge her reactions.

The point and counter point of reasoning began in his mind.

Why am I considering this matter? I have no reason to care.

The voice shifted, Of course you do, you want her to be welcome here and not be offended.

Yes, that is why I am concerned. I would not want to offend her.

With that Sir Jon settled his mind back and forced sleep to over take him but had the distinct impression that his own voices were unimpressed with the answer.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

Sir Jon walked into his bed room, seeing that the clock displayed the time as nearly being 5 in the afternoon. Taking off his cotton shirt Sir Jon approached the basin of water and began washing the sweat off his body as Anna laid out a change of clothes behind him. As Anna left he began redressing, leaving the sweat stained clothes to be picked up. It had been a brutal day in the fields. The heat had been intolerable recently and the workers had fallen behind. Sir Jon had gone out to inspect conditions and spent most of the afternoon with one of the foremen clearing out a collapsed ditch. He had planned to be back by three to talk to Miss Harrison. He felt the slight edges of a scowl form, feeling intensely conscious of the shrunken time.

Dinner was at six and Sir Jon had already missed tea and most of Miss Harrison’s first day here. But, not knowing exactly when she would arrive he had been unable to plan his weekly schedule around her. As Jon slid into a scarcely used double breasted suit a thought came into his head, She’ll be there. Pressing the thought from his mind Sir Jon double checked his buttons and made sure that his cuff links were clean. At that moment a scurried run broke into his room and nearly attacked his waist with a hug.

Reaching down to pat her head and instantly smiling, Sir Jon said, “Now, Miranda, you know that this is not the proper way to enter a room.”

She looked up with doe like eyes, “Sorry Daddy. But Anna says that I have to wear one of my church dresses and I don’t want to.”

Sitting on the bed and taking Miranda’s hands in his, “Now, Miranda, you understand the rule. We wear our nice clothes for special dinners and we have a new house member and that is pretty special.”

Pouting, “But, but, she was here yesterday daddy!”

“I know dear but yesterday we didn’t have a chance to properly welcome her because she didn’t get here until the afternoon. So, now we have had a chance to prepare and we will welcome her properly. OK?”

Miranda looked up at her father and nodded, acknowledging that she understood Smiling at her, Sir Jon asked, “So, what did you and Jon do today with Miss Harrison?”

“We went swimming, which was really fun.”

“Swimming? You showed Miss Harrison the beach?”

“Yes Daddy, the one we always go to. She made us do all our lessons but was really nice.”

Sir Jon hugged his daughter to him and was about to ask further questions when Anna caught up to Miranda. Without protest Miranda returned her room after jumping up and giving her dad a kiss on the cheek, earning a quick one in exchange. Suddenly Sir Jon was glad that he had been absent on field inspections. It sounded as if things had gone smoothly. Sir Jon’s mind turned to Megan and the day that he had missed. She certainly seems comfortable with children and knows how to handle them. Time with them privately was probably best, after all. We will talk more about the schooling tonight or tomorrow. But despite trying to think about Plato's dialetics for Jon Jr. Sir Jon thought about the swimming and the image of Megan's hair blowing around on the beach, as it had slipped out from her control yesterday, laying across her face.

Alone again, in the gas light Sir Jon inspected himself. The years had neither been kind nor cruel to him but looking in the mirror he saw a worn face. Sighing he moved down the hallway towards the dining hall on the first floor, entering the room lit by bright lamps and the dozen dishes set out for the mini-feast to welcome Miss Harrison. Wild pheasant, dolphin fish, rice dishes with tropical vegetables, meat pies, mango chutney and freshly baked bread were all laid out on one end of the table, allowing the four seats to sit close on the other end.

With his own place set out to the front of the table Sir Jon stepped to stand behind a chair next to his that he pulled away from the table. Straightening himself out, double checking his cuffs Sir Jon suddenly found himself nervous and fidgeting as he heard foot steps too heavy to be either of his children and he pulled Megan’s chair out for her.

Suddenly his throat went dry as Megan's shadow passed ahead of herself in the doorway, about to enter.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

With his tongue dry in his mouth, Sir Jon watched Megan Harrison step into the dining hall. She wore a dark green and black dress that contrasted against her skin in the gas light and made her stand out, as if appearing out of shadow. Somehow the dress seemed more open, looser than the one she wore yesterday but that was probably a consequence of accommodating the heat.

"Good evening, Sir," she murmured to him, approaching the offered chair. Hearing her nearly sub vocal comment Sir Jon worried that she was still offended but she didn’t avert her eyes as someone who wanted to avoid him would. In fact she was looking directly into his face, making him wonder at her actions.

"Good evening Miss Harrison," he answered, trying to sound confidant and relaxed and feeling weak where he was grasping the chair’s back, conscious of his suit where it rubbed his slight sun burn. She stared back into his face with those deep green eyes.

"You look weary, Sir." The statement was plain but caught Sir Jon unawares, especially as the timbre of her voice quaked just a little, full of sympathy. Clearing her throat and with a slight grimace she continued, "Pardon me, please, I did not mean to be intrusive... but I could not help from noticing."

In that second Sir Jon felt his heart squeeze a little for her and he wanted to reach out and hug her to him. Instead his hands tightened around the chair as he stared back into her face and traced the line of her lips. In his a monotone voice whose only strength coming from practice, Sir Jon replied, “Its all right Miss Harrison. Your observation is completely accurate.”

Sir Jon turned his face away slightly and nodded towards the empty chair in his hands, prompting Miss Harrison to curtsy a little and sit down as Sir Jon pushed it in. As he walked behind her Sir Jon drew his breath in, steadying his nerves as he sat and looked over at his new house mate.

Forcing himself to smile, “I... I was in the fields today.” His voice stammered a little, which puzzled him as it was a trivial admission and Sir Jon steeled himself. “It was a brutal day in the fields and there was a lot to do. Several men have been ill and I assisted with a manual project to ensure that it was done before we irrigated the field tomorrow.”

Sir Jon had spoken while seating himself and settling his napkin on his lap. Finished, he looked up at his companion. Megan’s face was unreadable to him but her eyes poured over his. He found himself being self conscious again. He was sure she had never worked for a man before who did common labors but this wasn’t London and had different demands on a man.

Suddenly Jon Jr and Miranda came into the room and sat at the table. Sir Jon glanced at his son, reminding him that he should seat his sister just as Sir Jon had Megan. With protocol taken care of the conversation quickly jumped into the children and their day at the beach. Sir Jon listened as they tried to embarrass Megan and she teased them back. Occasionally he would interject a question related to their lessons but mostly kept to himself, occasionally allowing himself to smile at Miranda and Jon or steal glances at Megan. Anna came in then and began passing dishes down the table, serving out the meat and vegetables first. With the aroma of the fruit and steamed vegetable on the table the conversation quickly died as earnest eating began.

After a moment Sir Jon looked up from his plate and turned to Megan. Clearing his throat, “Miss Harrison? It seems that the children had a wonderful time today and I wanted to thank you for taking on the challenge. I wonder if we could have some time after dinner to talk about lessons in the study though. Would you mind? If you’re not too tired from your day of course.”

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

Sir Jon shut the door quietly, having just kissed Miranda good night and having put Jon to bed first. Jon was still murmuring about wanting to go fishing out on one of the boats one day as sleep over took him while Miranda was wide awake.

“Daddy?” She looked up at Sir Jon as he pulled her cover up to he neck.

“Yes, honey?” Sir Jon smiled easily and looked at her.

“Is Miss Harrison going to stay here?” Her voice sounded of hope.

“Yes. She’s going to help take care of you, especially with the padre leaving soon.” Sir Jon smiled at her question, understanding what she really meant. He knew that Miranda remembered Mary though she never mentioned it. It was one of those things that they knew the other was always feeling. Sir Jon kissed her good night.

Miranda smiled and closed her eyes as Sir Jon shut the door and walked away quietly, finding his way to his study even in the dark of the house with candles and lamps blown out. His feet instinctively avoided the creaking places of the old wooden floors as he strode down the stairs. His thoughts were less quiet and ordered than his steps however. The delicate arms of Megan Harrison and ample swelling of her bosom persisted in Jon’s mind’s eye. Specifically he remembered her at dinner, teasing Miranda about a stumble in the waves, her smile radiant under her lush hair. And she’s waiting in the study.

Sir Jon opened the doors of the study, smoothly feeling the weight of the rough wooden handle in his hand. Light struck Sir Jon’s face as he stepped in, immediately feeling comfortable in the confines. The air held his tobacco and the lights were turned down just a little to the preference for his eyes, making it comfortable to read and relax in. Here he could wait out the crises of the world. He knew the location of every knot of wood, the feel of every chair and even the weight of every book. This was the place that he controlled the plantation from, that he was accustomed to making decisions in. It was an appropriate place to discuss important matters.

The one unknown thing was his guest, Megan Harrison, who was reaching towards a shelf that contained some of his books from his Navy days. He had brought them with him when the plantation was bought. Her back was to him and Sir Jon studied her before stepping up behind the nanny and reaching above her, his hand grazing over the cloth over her hip though she was unaware of it.

"Shall I help you with that, Miss Harrison?" Sir Jon asked from directly behind her, measuring his tone. Startled she nearly jumped when he spoke, not hearing him enter. She agreed for the help and Sir Jon reached for the spine that her fingertips had been touching. He was so engrossed with feeling Miss Harrison ahead of him, the texture of her hair, presence of her body and the slight flush that he could see on her neck that he failed to notice the book until he remembered that she was nearly pressed against him. Mindful of his proximity and his ability to smell her talcum on her skin, he stepped back. Looking for something to focus his eyes on looked at the title of the book.

"Miss Harrison, do you know what book this is?" he asked, glancing at her with an unreadable look in his eye.

"The Kama ...Sutra?" she replied, a note of question in her voice.

“Yes. Have you heard of it?” Sir Jon looked at her again, as if searching for a different reaction in her eyes than in her words.

“No, sir, I have not. Well, not directly. I have heard it mentioned by have never quite understood its context. What is it?” Megan stood only a foot from Sir Jon and looked into his eyes, a little scared an a little lost. She held the book in her hands and on impulse flipped it open. Sir Jon stepped forward but instead of one of the lurid interiors it was the verso with Mary’s long flowing writing. To my love, Jon. - Mary

Sir Jon reached out and closed the cover, letting his hand rest on top of Megan’s as he looked into her eyes. “A birthday gift,” he explained. He felt the skin on the back of his hand suddenly jump as if a muscle was twitching.

Remembering his place for the second time since entering the study Sir Jon took an additional step back and smiled. “I’m not surprised. It is a compilation popular among the nobility of the Indian continent, compiled as a sort of guide for men and women.”

Megan raised her eyes, obviously curious, “Why aren’t you surprised that I hadn’t heard of it? It sounds very educational.” She ran her hands over the title, feeling the leather rough on her hand.

Sir Jon’s eyes responded with what Megan could swear was something like amusement though it didn’t seem to come easily to his face. “Well, its practices are not what you would find in civilized English society Miss Harrison.”

“Really? Have you read it?” Megan’s voice lilted a little, her face still a bit flushed.

“Yes.” Why did I admit that? “Yes, I have read it Miss Harrison. Its educational but sensational, and full of foreign sensibilities. Still,” Sir Jon lowered it to the book to nearby table, “you are welcome to borrow it sometime if you wish.” With that Sir Jon stepped away and returned to his chair behind the desk and was glad to distract her from the topic so that she would forget the book.

With a smile from Sir Jon that clearly noted that they were changing topics, Miss Harrison took a seat in a nearby leather chair and they began to speak about lessons. They began with math and worked their way through philosophy, discussing plans and goals for the children. When at last they were ready to part plans had been laid for introducing more classical Greek literature and making sure that Jon Jr was learning appropriate mathematics while Miranda would soon add singing lessons to her education. Throughout it all Sir Jon watched Megan’s face.

Finally, coming to a conclusion, Sir Jon rose. “Thank you Miss Harrison, your plans sound excellent and your insight is invaluable. I’m very glad you were able to join my children and I here.” Sir Jon reached out his hand and Megan took it, letting her palm run over his and he felt the same jump of his skin as he had earlier. With a curtsy Megan left, and Sir Jon averted his eyes, determined to not act inappropriately.

Sighing Sir Jon stood and walked around his desk to reshelve the book, only to find it missing. Staring after the open door he thought, Well, I did say she could borrow it.

And then, whispering it to himself in the silent room Sir Jon said, "I'll have to remember that willfulness." His voice as a mixture of concern and admiration.

 

[McKenna]

.

 

[coyotepondering]

Sir Jon sat at the breakfast table, barely tasting his bangers and potatoes. He had woken ill rested, having fretted all evening about the book and Miss Harrison, unable to find comfort in his own thoughts. I will have surely scared her off. In the moment it had seemed amusing, an answer to her impudence of going through his things with a private joke that she would never be privy to. He had intended to distract suspicion with casual dismissal. His own prudence however, should have simply removed the book and asked her to not go through his collection. Its too late for wisdom now old man.

Pouring his vision across the sun drenched room Sir Jon reluctantly noted the empty chair next to his. It was her’s, at least since last evening. The bronze and silver serving dishes were arrayed between their seats, now beginning to lose their early warmth. The two chairs to his left were empty. The children had already been up and bounded out to the porch to read in preparation for their morning history lessons. Their plates were already cleared and made an empty space on the table next to the cut bread and bowl of potatoes.

Sir Jon was about to call to Anna to place the dishes on a warming oven when a scuffing noise caught his attention. Sir Jon turned around to see Miss Harrison standing there, beautiful and a little disheveled in her long black skirt and starched white blouse. Her eyes betrayed a lack of concentration and a few of her hairs again escaped her coif as they had that first day. Her smile is faded. It suddenly occurred to Sir Jon how much he missed her smile from last evening.

Rising, Sir Jon pulled her seat back but she only slid by him and averted her gaze from his eyes. Pushing the chair in he took his seat again and passed her the serving dishes, watching her methodically parcel out her portions. She politely, and demurely, asked for a few things that were out of her reach. Megan forced a smile which looked poor on her handsome features compared to the smiles of last night and while she did not avoid his gaze she did not look into his eyes.

She’s not offended... she’s scared. The thought horrified Sir Jon. Offended he could understand but she undoubtly thought poorly of him now and he felt a fist squeeze around his heart.

“Miss Harrison,” he spoke to her and she nodded in acknowledgment but still did not turn to him.

“Megan.” At this Megan Harrison turned to Sir Jon and finally looked into his eyes. “I wanted to tell you something.” Sir Jon swallowed some of his saliva, trying to ease the clenching of this throat. “I’m sorry if I offended you last evening.”

“No sir, “ she began to stammer but was quickly cut off.

“Let me finish, Megan. Its obvious that you looked at the book and I realized this morning that I should have warned you more explicitly than I did. I was concerned about being too stringent in my caveats and instead left you misled. I apologize. The book has a value, if impious, to the curious and intellectual but I should not have let that make me forget my duties to you.”

Sir Jon stood and approached Megan’s chair and stood beside her, placing his hand down on her armrest, leaving his wrist touching her arm. “You’re not our guest Megan. You’re here as family if you want to be. The children already adore you and I would be sorry to see you leave.”