Washington's Lady Read Online Free PDF Page B

visit, as you should have.”
    A servant took the colonel’s hat. Richard turned to the rest of the party and made introductions. Most had met under previous circumstances, and sincere greetings were made amongst the circle. We moved back into the parlour, and Richard relinquished his chair to Washington, taking another for himself.
    “So, George. Tell us, what news of the war?” Richard asked.
    Richard’s wife, Mary, had other concerns. “Enough, my dear. Let George get a breath in first. You do not look well, George.”
    The colonel’s blush was a welcome addition to his pallid complexion. “I have suffered for months from . . . a delicate complaint.”
    By his hesitation I made my own conclusions. It was most likely dysentery, the bloody flux that was often the bane of soldiers forced to eat and drink in the wild.
    “I was in Williamsburg seeking the aid of a physician there, for I can brook no more of it.” He scanned our faces. “I detest being of no use.”
    “Never!” said Edward, our other host.
    A servant appeared at the edge of the room. “Dinner is ready, mistress.”
    Mary rose. “Shall we?”
    *****
    “You did not partake freely,” I told the colonel as he and I returned to the parlour after our afternoon dinner.
    “Not for want of its deliciousness,” he said. He waited until I sat before taking a chair nearby. “I am careful to eat prudently until I am completely cured.”
    “May that be soon.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Custis.”
    Our heads turned toward the entrance to the room as we heard the double doors being pulled shut. I caught a glimpse of a grinning Mary before the doors closed.
    “It appears we are being manipulated,” I said. “Please forgive Mary. She—”
    “Truly, I do not mind,” he said. Then he hesitated. “Do you?”
    It was time for me to blush. “No, I do not.” I did not say so to flatter him but because I did appreciate his company. He was a fine conversationalist, and as dinner had progressed, I’d found myself drawn to him in a way that was most . . . intriguing.
    “I am sorry for your loss,” he said. “Your husband was a fine man.”
    “Thank you. The eight months since have been arduous. Busy and arduous.”
    “A great plantation is not meant to be run by one, alone.”
    “You speak from experience, Colonel?”
    “Certainly not to your extent. I rent a small plantation called Mount Vernon from my brother’s widow. It is on the banks of the Potomac.”
    “How far?”
    “One hundred twenty miles, to the north and some west,” he said.
    “A goodly distance. Add another twenty-five miles to Williamsburg and—”
    “The distance is gladly traveled, especially in the direction of home. Although business with the militia and the army often takes me to see the governor in Williamsburg, I find the distance far shorter in the return direction.”
    I smiled. “The place draws you back?”
    “Draws me home.” He moved to the outer portion of his chair, his eyes bright. “It’s as though the land and I share the same blood and sinew, and neither one is complete in absence of the other.”
    “Does the land share this opinion?”
    “I can only assume it does, because under my care it thrives.”
    “You both thrive, one with the other.”
    “Indeed.”
    He looked toward the fire, which had been stoked for our benefit against the cool spring evening. “I have many plans for Mount Vernon. The war has taken me away, and it has suffered in the absence of . . . of . . .”
    “Someone who loves it?”
    “I have lost livestock, outbuildings have crumbled, and the crops were not brought in to prime amount. And the house . . . I am having the roof raised and a second story built.”
    “The roof raised? How does one accomplish such a feat?”
    “With difficulty. Especially when I am not there to oversee. I have ordered supplies from England, windowpanes, mahogany furniture and such. And they have come but have not all been implemented because of