Aleksey's Kingdom (A Royal Affair #2)(16)
David, therefore, appeared the exception to the rule that I always end up being plagued by annoying children. He was present during breakfast, but under his mother’s skirts, from which position he observed the adults at the table. I had a chance to study him a little too, now that I was disabused of his brotherly relationship to Mary Wright, and I had to conclude that, son or brother, he did not resemble her at all. What I could see of Mrs. Wright, that which was not concealed modestly under her cap, showed her to be a very well-favored young lady with abundant tresses of light hair. She must enjoy her garden, for her skin was tanned from the sun, despite being so fair.
The boy, however, was more than just sallow, as I had thought him on the previous evening. His skin was almost leathery. He was small, but his limbs were exceptionally wiry and strong looking, unlike children of that age I was accustomed to. Of course, being a doctor of sorts in my former life, I had mixed almost exclusively with the wealthy, as the poor cannot afford good health, and the children of the wealthy, I knew, were still mostly cosseted babies at the age David was.
I do not like being put under scrutiny, as Aleksey would confirm if asked. I do not like being made to feel uncomfortable and experience that sensation that something or someone in the darkness of the trees beyond the range of my sight is observing me. I suppose no one does. I felt just such a pricking unease that morning as I sat under the child’s steady gaze.
He was not beneath his mother’s skirts from shyness, I concluded, but because they gave him cover.
The thought came to me even then that he was hiding in plain sight.
How I wish now that I had thought more on this and less on the delights of white bread.
Major Parkinson, Frederick, was not in such a good mood this morning as he had been the previous night. I got the impression he had not slept well on the ground, and I had just eaten all the leftover breakfast. He appeared to be eyeing my six-foot-plus frame with some alarm and calculating just how much food I could eat. He also did not look like a soldier who did much actual soldiering.
Captain Jonathan Rochester was also watching us closely—Aleksey in particular. For one moment the previous night he had reminded me of Johan; perhaps the name had stirred the resemblance. But on closer inspection across the camp table, there was no resemblance at all other than age and scarring and watching Aleksey too closely. I decided he was an unpleasant fellow and determined to keep a very close eye on him. I wanted to kick Aleksey under the table, for I knew he knew what I was thinking and found it exceedingly entertaining.
Lieutenant Owen McIntyre reminded me of a pup I had once owned before the terror had come to the colony. I do not remember what had happened to the puppy. Anyway, Owen was all floppy ears and rolling tongue and willingness to please. He was amusing enough. He was watching me a great deal and not Aleksey, which was novel. I quite enjoyed it.
The reverend was very quiet, but not, I thought, in a good way. He appeared to want to say something of great import but then desired everyone to notice this and stop what they were talking about to graciously ask him to bless them with his words of wisdom. No one else, however, noticed, and as I wasn’t talking anyway, he was thwarted in a most amusing way. His expression became more and more pinched, and his nostrils whiter as breakfast progressed.
Even at this early stage in my acquaintance with these people, I concluded that his was not a particularly happy marriage. For a man enjoying such bounty as Mary Wright, he appeared to me strangely unconcerned with her. I would at least have expected him to ensure she had the best portion of the food available. He did not even cut her bacon for her, which would have been the kind of attention a man usually paid his bride. The reverend sat some way away from her and his new son and did not concern himself with them once. I had a very strong suspicion then that she was not as keen to make this journey to the wilderness colony as her new husband. She must have left a pretty cottage and garden and all her new friends. I felt sorry for her and determined to tell Aleksey to offer her any assistance she might need on the journey ahead of us. It would keep him happily engaged. Better than helping Jonathan Rochester with anything, anyway.
This was the first time I had the opportunity to study Aleksey amongst his new friends. I was slightly dismayed to discover he appeared far more intimate with their various affairs than he had ever led me to believe. He was enquiring after Major Parkinson’s mother’s health; he checked on the progress of a bitch that Owen McIntyre had in pup. Most of all, he wanted to know how the plans for the grand Christmas ball were coming along. I had heard nothing of any of this, and I noticed he made very sure not to catch my eye at all as the meal progressed. Perhaps this reluctance to face me was also because he was universally addressed as Your Royal Highness. So much for being a displaced nobleman. Still, I reflected, Europe has hundreds of princes uprooted here, there, and everywhere. It was hardly likely any connection would be made to such an unimportant little kingdom as Hesse-Davia and its young dead monarch. At least the little idiot had not actually told them he was a king. I did not put it past him to promote himself soon, however.
So we were a diverse group setting off that morning. The trappers naturally had eaten with the soldiers, so I had little opportunity to observe them. I wondered if this division of the group by rank and status would continue when things got a little tougher.
The tents were packed up and stowed away on the packhorses. The Wright family had a small, sturdy cart, which the mother and child rode upon. Aleksey and I returned to the cabin to collect our horses and pack a few things—warm clothing was high on my list; I did not want to endure snow in only my shirt and torn breeches, as I had in Hesse-Davia. I took my knives, of course, and my new bow, and Aleksey carried my old one, which was better than his. Faelan packed his disdain for the whole procedure, and we were ready to go.