The Sugar Queen Page 22

  “I kind of remember some bad soup,” Theo said. “Did you feed me bad soup?”

  “A special tea made by Mrs. Wu,” I said. “I think it cured you.”

  Theo closed his eyes and turned onto his side. “I don’t want to miss school.”

  “Go to sleep, little man,” Alexander said as his shoulders sagged with obvious exhaustion.

  “Yes, Papa.”

  We gave Theo one more look and added another blanket over his quilt.

  We fetched our lanterns and walked into the hallway. He rubbed one hand over the stubble on his face as we made our way down the hallway to my room. The shadow of whiskers made him seem older and dangerous. At my door, we halted. He turned me toward him and splayed his fingers in my loose hair. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down.”

  “I’d forgotten it was down,” I said. “This was a tumultuous night.”

  He gave me a tired smile. “I couldn’t have made it through without you.”

  “You could. You did before I came.”

  “I can’t remember before you.” He kissed my cheek, then lightly on the mouth.

  I smiled up at him, my chest all achy and soft. “Get some sleep.” When I turned toward the door, I slid slightly in my stocking feet.

  Alexander wrapped an arm around my waist. His eyes locked with mine. For a second, we froze, our lanterns hung at our sides with his one arm around my waist. “You must be careful not to fall.” His voice sounded low and throaty and made the spot between my legs quiver.

  “It’s too late,” I said. “I’ve already fallen.”

  He trailed a finger down the length of my neck and slipped under the collar of my nightdress. Under the soft fabric of my gown, my nipples hardened and ached for his touch. “Do you know how badly I want you in my bed?”

  “I won’t know what to do,” I whispered. “I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you. I know nothing.”

  “I’ll teach you.” He pulled me closer. The hard muscles of his chest and thighs pressed into me. The sweater Lizzie had given me seemed suddenly hot and cloying. “The things I’ll do to you will make you forget your fear.” He kissed my neck, then nibbled my ear. I shuddered and let out a soft moan.

  I might burst into flames, I thought. Right here in the hallway.

  He kissed my mouth, penetrating with his tongue. His stubble scuffed my sensitive skin, but I didn’t care. I arched my back and clung to him with my free arm. When he lifted his mouth from mine, I saw the question in his eyes. Would I let him inside my room?

  It took every ounce of strength to say what I said next. “Alexander, not yet. Not until we’re married.”

  “I know, my love. I know you’re right.” He placed one finger over my mouth. “You’re all I think about. Do you know that? I’m consumed with your beauty and goodness. Every night before I fall asleep, I imagine you next to me when I wake up in the morning. Tell me you’ll marry me soon before I die of thirst.”

  I held his scruffy chin in my hand and pecked his lips with mine. “I’ll quench your thirst, Alexander Barnes. Soon.”

  He dropped his arm from my waist, and I escaped with my virginity barely intact. Once inside, I stood against the hard, cold wood as my heart thudded in my chest. I held my breath and listened for footsteps. Finally, I heard him walk away from the door toward his room. Only then could I breathe.

  Chapter 26

  Alexander

  * * *

  When I reached my room, I undressed and crawled into bed. The clock said it was almost 4:00 a.m. I closed my eyes and thanked God for sparing my boy, then, despite how I wished Quinn were next to me, fell into a deep sleep.

  I overslept the next morning. Still weary, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. It was after ten. Was Theo all right? What kind of father was I? Sleeping when he might have taken another turn for the worse. I threw on my dressing gown and rushed down the hall to the boys’ room. Theo was asleep in his bed. I sat on the edge and gazed down at him. His cheeks were no longer bright red but a cheery pink instead. I brushed hair from his forehead.

  His eyes fluttered open. “Hello, Papa. May I have a drink of water?”

  “Yes, yes.” I went to the dresser and poured him a glass from the pitcher. There was a note propped up against the mirror addressed to me in Miss Cooper’s handwriting. I grabbed it as well as the glass of water.

  Theo had risen slightly, his eyes fixed on the glass.

  “Can you hold it?” I asked.

  “Yes, Papa. I’m feeling much better.” Theo took the glass and sipped tentatively at first, then downed the entire glass.

  “Do you remember much from last night?” I asked.

  He wrinkled his forehead, obviously searching his memory but coming up with nothing. “The last thing I remember is riding home from skating and feeling very cold.”

  “You gave me quite a scare.”

  “I’m sorry, Papa.”

  This boy and his earnest expressions, I thought. “Nothing to be sorry for. Sickness can get all of us at one time or another.”

  “Not you, Papa. You’re strong.” With a tired sigh, he settled back against the pillow. Despite his improvement, a spasm of fear jerked through me. He’d been so ill. I had no idea how close we’d come to losing him. “Or Flynn. My sisters. Everyone’s strong but me.”

  “You’re quite strong,” I said. “When you were first born, the midwife told me you might not live. But you fought. Sometimes it’s the smallest amongst us who have the most grit.”

  His nose crinkled as he turned onto his side. “Mother told me I was weak.”

  I drew back in surprise. “When did she tell you that?”

  “Do you remember that time I had a bloody nose from wrestling with Flynn?” he asked.

  I vaguely recalled the incident. If memory served, Ida had been about six months pregnant with Fiona.

  “She said Flynn was the strong one. That he’d taken all the strength and that I’ll die young.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could she have said such a thing to a wee boy? “Theo, this is quite simply not true.”

  His round eyes watched me, world-weary and resigned. “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m your father. I know everything about you.” I smoothed the bedcovers over his thin legs. “There are all different kinds of strengths.”

  “Like what?”

  “Flynn and your little sisters are made of solid stock, no question. Your and Josephine’s strengths are more of the kind that come from in here.” I tapped my chest. “You have strong hearts that make you kind and compassionate and so very generous. Did you know that it’s harder to be kind than physically strong?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Physical strength is good, too, of course. But as you grow older and become less agile and strong, what remains untouched is what’s inside you. Your kind of strength never goes away. In fact, a kind heart continues to grow larger the longer you live. Kindness takes practice, after all.”

  “It does?”

  “Absolutely.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “The way you see the suffering in others and try to help is a great gift to the world. When you become a man, you’ll be a force of good.”

  “Why did Mother tell me I was weak? Could she not see what you see?”

  I hesitated before answering. Since Ida’s death, I’d struggled to keep my bitterness toward her inside. She was the children’s mother. They deserved to remember the good parts of her. “Theo, your mother was not well. She couldn’t see anything clearly.”

  “Like a blind person?”

  “No, not like that. Even if a person’s eyes don’t work properly doesn’t mean they can’t see with their other senses. Your mother’s illness made it so her brain saw everything the wrong way. She could only see darkness. No light at all, do you see?”

  “Miss Quinn said it wasn’t my fault that Mother went into the snow.”

  “Did you think it was your fault?” I stared at him, incredulous and hor
rified. Had he thought this all along?

  “Yes,” he whispered. “I thought it was because I was…” He trailed off. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked several times.

  “Because of what?”

  “Being here. Being the weakest.” Tears leaked from his eyes.

  I reached into my robe for a handkerchief and used it to soak the dampness from his perfect cheek. “Darling boy. None of your mother’s troubles were because of you.”

  “I heard you and the doctor talking about how Mother got sick after we were born.”

  “That is true. But it’s not because of anything either of you did, but that there was something in her brain that wasn’t right.”

  “Miss Quinn told me that too.”

  “And do you believe her?” I asked.

  His gaze lifted upward. “I want to.”

  In the seconds it took before I answered my little boy, a myriad of thoughts crossed through my mind. Like me, Theo blamed himself for Ida’s death. How many times had I thought if only I hadn’t made her pregnant a third and fourth time? I’d blamed my lust for her troubles. However, if what I was telling my little boy was true, then wasn’t it the same for me? What was wrong with Ida was no one’s fault. Not even hers. I’d blamed her for what was out of her control. She hadn’t wanted to be sick. She’d wanted to live before the mental illness had pushed her into darkness.

  “Papa, what is it?” Theo reached from under the covers to grasp my hand. “What’s made you sad?”

  “What happened to your mother was no one’s fault. We have to forgive ourselves and her for what happened and move forward.”

  His dark brows came together. “Papa, do you love Miss Quinn?”

  I blinked, then laughed. “How did you know?”

  “Josephine told us. She knows these things because of the books she reads. At least that’s what she said.”

  “Well, she’s right.”

  “She never tries to make me be anything but myself,” Theo said.

  “How would you feel if I married Miss Quinn?”

  “I’d feel happy. Have you asked her?”

  “Not properly. But I plan to.”

  Theo smiled. “She has to say yes, Papa. There’s no one else in the whole world as good as you.”

  I kissed his forehead to hide the tears that sprang to my eyes. “You’re pretty good yourself.”

  Lizzie and Mrs. Wu were in the kitchen feeding Fiona, Li, and Fai a lunch of potato soup and bread.

  “Hi, Papa,” Fiona said from the table. “I’m having lunch with my new friends.”

  “I can see that.” I kissed the top of her head.

  “After this Lizzie said we could go out and see Harley in the barn.”

  “I can help with the chores, Lord Barnes,” Li said.

  “Thank you, young man,” I said. “But when you’re feeling well enough, I’d like you to go to school with the others.”

  Li looked at his bowl of soup. “I won’t know anything.”

  “Miss Cooper will teach you what you need to know.”

  “Will they call me bad names?” Li asked.

  “No. Miss Cooper would never allow that.”

  “Calling someone a mean name is mean,” Fiona said.

  I chuckled and rumpled her hair. “Yes, it is.

  “Now I have to go into town. I’m picking up a present.”

  “For me?” Fiona asked.

  “No, pet. For Miss Quinn. I’ve had a new coat made for her and it’s ready.”

  From the island where she smashed cloves of garlic, Lizzie twittered. “There’s no saving you now.”

  “That, Lizzie, is the absolute truth.”

  Chapter 27

  Quinn

  * * *

  The Monday afternoon after our scare with Theo, I came home from school weary and in need of a long winter’s nap. When we came into the house, Alexander met us at the door.

  He whispered in my ear as he helped me out of my coat. “My love, are you exhausted?”

  “I am.” My love. I’d never tire of hearing those words out of his mouth.

  “How’s Theo?” Flynn asked.

  “Much better,” Alexander said. “He slept a lot today, but he ate some of Lizzie’s soup.”

  Flynn’s pinched face relaxed. “I’m going to see him. Just to make sure.”

  All day at school, Flynn had fretted silently over his twin. At lunch he hadn’t even wanted to go outside, staying instead to clean the blackboard. When I’d asked him why he would miss the chance to be outside, he’d shrugged and said, “Without Theo, it doesn’t seem right to have fun.”

  The children all scurried off to find out what Lizzie had for them in the kitchen.

  “I’ll look after things this afternoon,” he said. “You rest. I have something special for you later.”

  I reluctantly agreed, my fatigue winning against any other argument.

  He kissed me lightly and pointed toward the stairs. “Off with you.”

  I trudged up the stairs and down the hall, stopping at the boys’ room first. They were both on their beds facing each other. From what I could tell, Flynn was in the middle of telling Theo the details of the day. “Then, Miss Quinn told us about the time the Americans dumped all this tea into the Boston Harbor. It was a band of resistant fighters and they went in the middle of the night and threw it all off the sides of ships. I wish I’d have been there.”

  Theo, hanging on every word, nodded. “Did they get in trouble?”

  Flynn noticed me then. “Miss Quinn, tell him what happened next.”

  “I’m tired from talking all day,” I said. “But later, I’ll tell you about it.”

  “Thanks, Miss Quinn.”

  “I’m off to rest,” I said. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Miss Quinn,” Flynn said. “Are we bad because we’re part English?”

  “No, of course not. That was all a long time ago. England and America are great friends now.”

  “But how can that be?” Theo asked. “If they were enemies before?”

  “Politics is complicated,” I said. “The best thing to remember is that it’s not people but governments who create wars.”

  They both stared at me with blank expressions.

  “By government, I mean men in power. They want something the other country has and decide sacrificing young men’s lives is the way to get it.”

  “Will we ever have to be soldiers?” Theo asked.

  I put my hand over my chest. “I’ll pray you won’t. I hope we’ll never have another war where we have to send our sons off to fight.”

  “I’d want to fight,” Flynn said. “If we had a war, that is.”

  “Miss Quinn, you said mothers send sons off to war,” Theo said. “What happens if you don’t have a mother?”

  I fought tears and examined my fingernails until I could think of a sensitive response. “Young men are sent off to war by the women and girls who love them but also by fathers and uncles and even grandfathers. While they’re gone, those who wait at home pray for their safe return and never ever stop loving them. It doesn’t have to be a mother.”

  “What if you were our mother?” Flynn asked. “Then we’d have someone to send us off and wait for us to come back.”

  Tears spilled from my eyes. I brushed them away as quickly as I could. “It would be my great honor to be your mother. If I were, there is no place you could go that I wouldn’t be waiting here when you return. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you well and safe.”

  “Just like last night when I was sick?” Theo asked.

  “Yes. Exactly like that.”

  After supper and bedtime, Alexander and I met in the library. He had me sit and set a package on my lap. “Open it,” he said.

  “What have you done now?” I untied the string and tore away the brown paper. A note card lay on top of tissue. In perfectly even handwriting, it read: “For my lovely Quinn. To keep you warm when I cannot. All my love, Alexander.” I l
ifted the tissue and pulled out a forest-green wool coat. “Alexander, it’s beautiful.” I stood, and he helped me into the heavy overcoat. Lace trim and a smart belt, with a hem that reached just above my ankle, it was as nice as anything I’d seen on the finest ladies of Boston.

  He led me over to the mirror in the foyer. “Olofsson made it especially for you. Anna helped me pick out the material.”

  I stared at my reflection in the looking glass. “I feel posh and fancy. And warm.”

  From behind me, Alexander smoothed the sleeves with his hands. “The dark green suits you. Anna thought it would.”

  “She knew it was for me?” I flushed. “Everyone in town knows about us?”

  “They know only that I’m in love with you,” he said.

  My eyes flew wide open. “You’re in love with me?”

  “My love, isn’t it obvious by now?”

  The Wu family had been with us a week when Li asked if he could come to school with us. Dressed in clothes from the twins’ outgrown closet and buoyed from a week of Lizzie’s meals, he looked like a different boy. I tested his reading and arithmetic abilities first thing that morning. Oddly enough, given his limited resources, he could read at the same level as my youngest students. When I asked him how he’d learned to read, he explained that his mother had taught him the basics before she died. “Mr. Cole brought me books when he came,” Li said.

  “I’m pleased for you,” I said. “And this is only the beginning.”

  Around noon, the sky darkened and began to dump snow. A howling wind shook the schoolhouse. Unable to focus, I paced at the back of the classroom watching the sideways snow. At one, Harley showed up and suggested I cancel school for the rest of the day. I agreed without hesitation. He offered to take the Cole and Cassidy children home and come back for the Barnes brood, Poppy, Li, and me. Louisa had not come to school that morning, or I would have asked Harley to take her along with the others. I hoped she was home, warm and fed, but I feared the worst. Theo, too, was out that day, not well enough yet to venture out into the cold.