explained to his wife, Madeline. 'She was a remarkable woman.'
'Do you remember the time she helped us build that raft?' Julian laughed.
Quinn smiled, and Noelle saw that the tension had ebbed from his face. 'My first attempt at designing a boat. We had a little trouble keeping her off the banks as I remember, but she was sturdy.'
More couples arrived, and their reminiscences were cut short. Soon Nathan appeared at the door to announce dinner. The house glowed with beeswax and candlelight, and Noelle felt a surge of pride as she and Quinn led the way to the dining room and the couples took their places around the lavishly set table. She had discovered that of all their guests only Julian and Emily Lester; Emily's brother, Edwin Darcy; and Wheeler and Thea Talbot remembered Televea when Amanda had been its mistress. The rest had either not known the Copeland family well or arrived after Amanda's death.
The wives who had watched the transformation of Televea taking place described it to their husbands, and the men who were seeing it for the first time were lavish in their praises of what Noelle had done. Quinn looked about as if he, too, were seeing it all with fresh eyes, and when Noelle glanced his way, he lifted his glass and, to her discomfiture, silently toasted her.
Dainty Jones had clearly made up her mind that no one would forget her meal. There were oysters on the half shell, a salad filled with watercress and hearts of palmetto, roast suckling pig, and wild duck stuffed with apples. Biscuits and breads appeared with sweet potato souffles, onions in cream, and baked celery laced with almonds. Each course had its own wine, and the servants saw to it that all the glasses were kept well filled.
'Steam, Quinn. That's the future. Not sail.' The voice of Ralston Witt, president of Cape Crosse's only bank, rose above the other conversations at the table. 'Copeland and Peale's going to fall behind if you're not careful.'
'We've built several steamships in London already, and we're building another one now,' Quinn said, 'but the fuel for an ocean voyage takes up so much room, there's no space left for cargo. It's just not profitable yet. Besides, the engines need a lot of improvement before they'll be practical for longer runs.'
Witt looked skeptical.
'It's true, Ralston,' Julian said. 'They're not really that reliable yet.'
'Nonsense!' Witt insisted. 'Steamships have been making river voyages for years.'
Setting down her fork, Noelle smiled politely at her quarrelsome guest. 'As I see it, steam is fine for river traffic or coastal voyages, Mr. Witt, where the boats can stop and take on fuel. But it'll be years before a steamship can make the China run competitively. When that does happen, Copeland and Peale will be ready. But until then, my husband will keep building faster sailing ships.' She picked up her wineglass and sipped, not unaware of Quinn's faint look of admiration.
'My, my, Noelle!' Georgina Sinclair exclaimed. ' 'Deed I had no idea you were such an authority. The rumor I heard must be true.'
'What rumor?'
'Why, that you've been spending your spare time at the shipyard.'
'I do try to spend one or two afternoons there every week.'
'Mercy! Whatever for?'
'I like it. I think women need to take more interest in business.'
'Well, whatever do you do?' asked Thea Talbot, clearly astonished. 'Are you helping the clerks with their correspondence or working on the accounts?'
'Hardly.' Julian laughed. 'Last week she was in the shop, rolling oakum with old Tim Mahoney. The week before that she bullied Ned MacLaughiin into letting her climb into the rigging of the
Quinn dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter that sounded to Noelle like an explosion, but which no one else seemed to have noticed.
'Oh, Noelle. you didn't!' Madeline Darcy emitted an approving tinkle of laughter. 'Quinn Copeland, I do believe you've finally met a woman who's more than a match for you!'
Protected by the presence of their guests, Noelle lifted her head and bestowed a grin on him that was so full of mischief that against his will Quinn laughed.
'You may be right, Madeline. But I wouldn't put any money on it just yet.'
The heat slowed down work at the shipyard, and at Quinn's request Noelle began to accept many of the invitations they received. She grew fond of the Darcys and Talbots, but it was with Emily and Julian Lester that she was the most comfortable, and the two couples spent an increasing amount of time together. Emily was now large enough to be self-conscious about appearing in public, so the couples restricted themselves to informal picnics and quiet dinners at each other's homes. They talked about books and politics, shipbuilding and roadbuilding, teased each other and laughed about unimportant things.
When they were all together, the Lesters provided a buffer between Quinn and Noelle so that for the first time they could enjoy each other without having to be perpetually on guard. Noelle learned that her husband liked horseracing and dogs, that he disliked cockfighting. Quinn grew more and more fascinated with his wife's quick intelligence and lively wit. If the Lesters noticed that their friends were often curiously formal with each other and never touched except by accident, they kept their observations to themselves.
In July, Julian and Emily's baby was born. They named her Lydia Mae and asked Quinn and Noelle to be godparents at the christening that was planned for the end of August.
Wasidan was frequently at Televea that summer, and Noelle grew to look forward to his visits. It had not taken them long to overcome the awkwardness of their first encounter, and they had since become friends. From him, Noelle learned much of the customs of the Cherokee people as well as of their present struggles. She also discovered that it was Wasidan Quinn had rescued from Luke Baker and his brother.
The Bakers and several of their cronies had seen him one day as he fished in the stream that ran near Televea. They were drunk and began taunting him. Despite the fact that he was unarmed and outnumbered, Wasidan fought them, but the man overpowered him and strung him to a tree. They were torturing him with their knives when Quinn came upon them.
The summer advanced, and the heat settled heavily over Cape Crosse. Each day Noelle pushed the limits of her strong young body-swimming in a small pond she had discovered in the woods behind the house, riding, walking for miles, hoping that exhaustion would drive away the demons that seemed to have taken possession of her at night. It had been five months since the angry night Quinn had last made love to her, and all she could think of as she lay sleepless in her bed were his strong hands on her starved flesh. She began nourishing her old hatred of him, letting it grow along with her need.
Hour after hour, her footsteps traced the perimeters of her quiet room. Sometimes she imagined she heard another set of footsteps echoing from the other side of the connecting door, but she knew only too well that it was her imagination. She had learned enough by now about Kate Malloy and her infamous establishment to be certain that all of her husband's late nights were not being spent at the shipyard.
When Quinn did not come home, she began slipping from the house to the dark stables and taking her mare out with only the moonlight to guide her through the now familiar countryside. Each time she rode, she seemed to find her way past the lane that led to Kate Malloy's.
And if he is there, who do you have to blame but yourself? she thought torturously. You've made it clear that the only way he can have you is to rape you. But Quinn is as proud as you are, and unless you torment him to it, he's not going to touch you.
She knew there was another way. She could go to him, give herself freely, but her pride would not let her. At least now she had his respect even if she had nothing else. If only, she wished, there were a way she could go to him and still keep her pride.
Chapter Thirty-four
'Lydia Mae Lester, I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.'
The minister's voice echoed resonantly within the walls of the small wooden church as he made the sign of the cross on the tiny forehead of the baby nestled comfortably in Noelle's arms. Lydia Mae smiled toothlessly at her new
