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Dulcie's Gift. Ruth Langan
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Dulcie found herself seated on Cal’s right, with Starlight and the girls alongside her. Nathaniel was seated on Cal’s left, with Barclay and Darwin beside him. She noted that many of the china plates were cracked, and several of the crystal goblets were chipped. But the dozen candles in silver candelabra in the center of the table cast their golden glow over the lace tablecloth, making the setting appear truly festive.
Robert circled the table, pouring a small amount of wine into goblets. The children’s glasses were filled with lemonade.
As Robert took his seat beside Starlight, Dulcie reached out her hands to those on either side of her as she always did. Starlight clasped her right hand, and the children followed suit. Dulcie said softly, “We would ask a blessing upon this food.”
She could feel the astonished looks from the Jermain family at her boldness. She was, after all, not an honored guest at table. She was, in fact, an intruder.
Aunt Bessie, a stickler for propriety, said imperiously, “In this house we do our praying without such outward displays of artificial reverence.”
“Artificial—!” Starlight began, but a look from Dulcie stopped her in midsentence.
Dulcie and the others lowered their hands to their laps. From his vantage point, however, Cal could plainly see that, under cover of the tablecloth, the young women and children reached out until their hands were once more clasped.
“Besides,” Aunt Bessie said sternly, “I believe God has turned His back on us since this damnable war.” She turned to her youngest nephew. “Darwin,” she said dryly, “you will lead us in prayer.”
“Bless this food,” Dar intoned.
“Amen,” his brothers said in unison, relieved that the prayer had been short and simple.
Aunt Bessie shot Dar a challenging look as she lifted her goblet of wine to her lips. “For a man trained to be elo- quent, you were very brief. I suppose this is something you learned while fighting Yankees.”
Dar stared pointedly at the table, taking care not to look at the others. Across from him, Starlight focused on the candles blazing in their splendid silver holders, seemingly oblivious to the words being spoken.
“We put in a hard day in the fields,” Barc said in defense of his brother. He drained his goblet in one swallow. “Besides, you know Dar isn’t fond of public speaking.”
“I notice you have no such problem,” his aunt chided.
“None whatever.” He turned his attention to Dulcie. “How are the Irish girl, and the little one?”
“They’re improving, thank you.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cal’s head swivel toward her, but she determinedly kept her gaze focused on his brother. She knew she was blushing, and that only made the color deepen. “Fiona isn’t alert yet, but her eyes opened once and she managed a few sounds. And Clara is awake, but she’s too weak to eat yet.”
“That’s good news—” Barc turned to his older brother “—isn’t it, Cal?”
“Mmm.” His brother took a sip of wine before asking, “What sort of sounds?”
“Moans, really.” Dulcie swallowed, remembering the look of pain that had crossed Fiona’s face when she’d responded to Dulcie’s voice. “And she squeezed my hand.”
“Yes, that’s a good sign.”
“I hope Fiona wakes up soon,” Emily chirped. “I miss her songs. And the funny stories she tells.”
“Do you remember the one—” Belle began, but Aunt Bessie cut her off.
“I do believe that children should be seen and not heard. Now sit up straight. And take your elbows off the table. As long as you are under my roof, you will learn the proper way a young lady comports herself.”
The two little girls looked crestfallen as they struggled to obey. The older woman glanced at Robert. At once he hurried to the kitchen and returned with a tray of food, which he carried around so that the people at the table could serve themselves.
Dulcie glanced at the dour man beside her. As strange as it seemed, she drew comfort from Cal’s simple words about Fiona’s moans. Despite his lack of manners and his cool, angry demeanor, despite that kiss, which had shaken her to her very core, there was about him an aura of knowledge and solid dependability. Though she was loath to admit it, she trusted his opinion.
Forcing herself out of her musings, Dulcie smiled at the children as they feasted on thick slabs of roasted pork and corn bread smothered in hot gravy. She would take comfort in the fact that the food was good and plentiful. Given enough time here, they would all regain much-needed strength for the task ahead.
“This is truly a fine meal, Aunt Bessie. And a rare treat for all of us.” Across the table she saw sunny little Emily cram an entire roll into her mouth and wash it down with lemonade. From the stern look on Aunt Bessie’s face, she knew the older woman had seen it, too.
“I must apologize for the dullness of our meals,” Aunt Bessie said. “There was a time when we would roast several geese, a wild deer and perhaps a whole pig for one evening’s feast.” She sighed, a deep sigh of remembrance or regret. “And we would drink champagne from France and wear gowns from Paris and London. Now, thanks to the war,” she said wistfully, “it all seems like just a lovely dream. Who knows when we will be able to restore our poor little island to its former beauty.” She fell silent for a long moment. “Once again it seems, I have forgotten my vow. I promised myself that if my beloved nephews were returned safely, I would never complain about another thing. And here we are, all together at last. For that I am most humbly grateful.”
“You were all in the war?” Nathaniel asked. “Where?”
Cal swung his gaze to the boy. There was something in Nathaniel’s tone. Something anguished, something… seeking.
For a moment no one responded to the question. At last Barc said, “I spent half the war in Richmond, then joined General Lee himself. Dar was with Pickett’s forces at Gettysburg. Cal was with the Seventh under Stonewall Jackson until he…stayed a little too long at Chancellorsville.”
Cal saw the boy lower his gaze to the table. Whatever he was seeking, he had not found it in Barc’s words.
Although the children did not understand the importance of the places Barc had mentioned, the names were not lost on Dulcie. She felt saddened and shocked to think that all three brothers had faced such danger.
Aunt Bessie touched a napkin to her lips and spoke to Robert. “We will take our coffee and dessert in the main parlor, Robert.”
“Yes, Miss Bessie.”
She pushed away from the table and waited until Cal approached and offered his arm.
Dulcie had to rouse Starlight from the dark cloud that enveloped her, brought about by the talk of the war.
Her hand on Cal’s sleeve, Aunt’Bessie led the way along the hallway to a set of ornate double doors. Sliding the doors open, Cal stood aside and waited for the others to enter. Inside, candles had been lit in sconces along the walls and in an ornate candelabra atop a table. The floor and ta- bletops gleamed in the candle glow, and everything smelled of beeswax and lye soap.
“What happened to this room?” Barc lifted a brow in surprise.
“We cleaned it,” Nathaniel said proudly. “I did the fireplace.”
“I’ve never seen it so clean,” Barc said.
“I did the tabletops and little glass animals,” Emily said excitedly, her blond curls bobbing up and down.
“And a fine job you did,” Barc assured her.
“I counted them,” the little girl went on. “Starlight is teaching