The Bairn of Brianag

"How can I? You would not speak to me to tell me!" I said.

He stood up. "I am weary, Jessie, I wish to retire. Can you find your way back to the house, or must I escort you there?"

I backed away from him, and bumped against the porch rail. "There is no need for you to escort me. I know every inch of Brianag as well as you do," I said.

"Go to bed then," he said. "You must rise early to be ready for your honeymoon journey."

I stared at him, fighting my anger; then I tossed my head went down the steps. As I walked away I could hear him laugh, but it was not a happy sound; then I heard the sound of glass splintering against wood.

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Rabbit shook me in the darkness. I struggled to wake and made my toilet. I was weak and shaky. I could hear men and horses at the front of the house. I came down the stairs, my heart thudding dully with dread. I was leaving Brianag. I did not want to go.

Mrs. Randall stood in the foyer, fully dressed. As I reached the bottom stair, she took my hands.

"Are you well, Jessie?" she asked me, looking into my face.

I could not speak. I swallowed as my stomach shuddered.

She drew me into her arms. "Oh, my dear, God bless you and keep you," she whispered, and her words were a prayer.

She released me and Polo opened the front door. I went out onto the porch and saw lanterns moving, held by shadows that became men as my eyes adjusted. Rabbit stood close beside me. I stood rooted to the spot as I realized that there was no carriage at the steps, but only a wagon.

A shadow bounded up the steps; in the light of Polo's candle it lightened and became Robbie. His shirt, though clean, was open; he swept off his hat and bowed, his hair glowing in the lantern light. "Your servant, madam! Your carriage awaits!"

I stared past him at the wagon. It was a large one, made for hauling rice barrels.

"Where is the carriage?" I said.

"What, madam! Do you not see it? But perhaps you wished upon the wrong sort of pumpkin!" he said, and laughed loudly.

"Robbie, stop teasing her, do," said Mrs. Randall.

He bowed to her. "Begging your pardon, madam; I find myself unable to resist. It is an old habit," he said. "Come, madam," he said, holding out his hand to me. I took it and allowed him to lead me down the steps.