Free From This Day Forward by Margaret Daley Page A

completely prepared for the salty assault on her tongue. Tears, more from her failure than the salt, glistened in her eyes, making Nathan’s image blurry. “I am sorry. Next time I will add only a pinch or two.” Not a palm full . “One pinch did not seem to do anything.”
    “Perhaps you should stay a little longer so the cook can instruct you again.” Mr. Stuart finished his meal, all except the mush.
    Nathan yanked his head up. “Grandfather is on the mend. Staying longer will not set well with him.”
    “Nonsense. He has tolerated you.” Patrick snapped his mouth closed, his gaze glued to the entrance into the dining room.
    Rachel swiveled her attention to the older man with long white hair standing in the doorway, his shoulders slumped over, his hands clutching a cane. His dark eyes full of thunder.
    “There is a young English girl upstairs with a baby. What is she doing in my house?” Nathan’s grandfather’s gaze zeroed in on Rachel, hard, relentless. “Who are you?”
    “I am Rachel Gordon.”
    “Are you with that English girl?”
    She nodded, her throat going dry as he drilled his gaze into hers.
    “I told her to pack her bag and get off my land. The English are not welcome here.”
    Nathan bolted to his feet, knocking his chair over. The crash reverberated through the room. “We are leaving.”
    His grandfather directed his fury at Nathan. “You brought them here? You know how I feel about the English.”
    “I brought Rachel here. The war is over, Grandfather.” Nathan’s brother rose and rushed to his side to assist him to a chair.
    The old man shook off his help. “Makes no difference to me. All English are a murdering, lying bunch.” He raised his cane toward Rachel. “Get off my land.”
    Nathan grabbed the carved wooden weapon as his grandfather waved it in the air and stilled its movement. “We are going. I can see you don’t need my help any longer.”
    “Never did.” Mr. Stuart’s eyes narrowed to slits, with his mouth set in a determined slash. He wrenched the cane from Nathan’s grasp and hobbled toward the head of the table.
    The older man’s hatred shuddered down Rachel’s length. She pushed to her feet, her legs trembling so badly she wasn’t sure she would make it out of the room. Nathan clasped her arm and led her into the foyer. She wanted to lean into him for support, but as energy surged through her limbs, she stepped away from him.
    I am not Nathan’s problem .
    Fear underlining her features, Maddy descended the stairs, with Faith cradled in one arm and carrying a bag with the other.
    Rachel hurried to her maid and took her daughter, hugging Faith to her while loud voices boomed from the dining room. Without a backward glance, she spun around and headed for the front entrance. If she had to walk, she would leave Pinecrest now. Quaking, she clasped her daughter tighter against her to keep from dropping her.
    Maddy kept pace with her. “Are we leaving, ma’am?”
    “Yes.” At the door she looked back at Nathan.
    A war raged on his face—regret quickly evolving into anger. “Go to the stable. I will be there shortly.” Then he turned on his heel and marched back into the dining room.
    Rachel didn’t wait to hear his exchange with his grandfather. The older man’s fury reminded her of her father’s when he heard about her marriage to Tom. But this time she had done nothing but be born an Englishwoman.

    Nathan sat in front of the fireplace, staring at the flames devouring the logs. For a few minutes the mesmerizing blaze lured his thoughts away from what had happened that morning at Pinecrest. Until he saw Rachel standing in the doorway to the bedchamber. He did not want to have this conversation with her, but he glimpsed determination in her expression. Sighing, he leaned against the hard back of the chair.
    “I wish I had not accepted your brother’s invitation to stay at Pinecrest.” Rachel moved toward the other chair in front of the fireplace and