Fates and Traitors by Jennifer Chiaverini

soil is fertile and unspoiled, and our property is blessed by natural springs as clear as crystal. We can raise crops, put in an orchard, and create a haven of peace and serenity for ourselves and all living things.”
    Mary Ann acknowledged that it sounded lovely, and very healthful for the baby, so when Junius suggested they relocate before the heat of the South Carolina summer became oppressive, she agreed.
    She hoped for sublime landscapes like those of England’s Lake District, which she had never seen but had long admired in engravings and Wordsworth’s poetry, but soon after they left the Baltimore city limits in a cart pulled by the faithful Peacock, quaint villages and picturesque farms gave way to rolling terrain and dense, foreboding forest. The poor piebald pony struggled so diligently to haul them and their belongings over the rough, winding road that Junius, moved to sympathy, handed the reins to Mary Ann and walked alongside to ease the burden.
    They rumbled past a scant few other farms carved out of the wilderness and came to a tiny hamlet called Bel Air, which Junius assured her had a post office and a general store where she could purchase sugar, flour, coffee, and other necessities. Mary Ann smiled and nodded to conceal her dismay. It was apparent that Bel Air would offer her few entertainments and little opportunity to make friends.
    Three miles beyond the village, they at last reached their new home—a sturdy log cabin plastered white with vivid red shutters, set back from the road in a clearing surrounded by towering oaks, walnuts, and beeches. Junius overflowed with boyish enthusiasm as he helped her down from the cart and took her on a tour of the homestead. The house was small but charming, but her apprehensions rose as Junius led her about the clearing, the baby on her hip, a catch in her throat. As he gestured grandly to indicate the fields where he intended to plant barley and potatoes, an ideal place for her kitchen garden, a suitable location to build a dairy, she felt the forest, massive and dense and dark, closing in around her.
    â€œJunius,” she ventured as they spread a quilt on a grassy spot near the cabin and sat down to a picnic supper, “what do you know about farming?”
    â€œI’ve been reading up on it for months, and I’ll hire an experienced manager to assist us.” He studied her, curious. “You seem worried that we may not be up to the task. Didn’t your father grow and sell flowers and seeds?”
    â€œYes, Junius, but that doesn’t make me a farmer’s daughter. I don’t know anything about running a farmhouse.”
    â€œIsn’t one kitchen much like any other?” He touched her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile. “We’ll hire a competent woman to help you.”
    â€œJunius—” She took a deep breath, hating to spoil his obvious delight. “I think you forget I’m a Londoner. This isolation—yes, it’s peaceful and quiet here, and beautiful in its way, but I don’t think it will suit me. I crave the bustle and activity of the city—the people, the libraries, the theatres, all of it.”
    â€œMy darling—” His smile faded. “We can’t afford the scrutiny we’d encounter in a city.”
    â€œWhy? What’s happened?”
    â€œNothing yet, but as my fame grows, it’ll become ever more difficult for me to travel without ending up in the ‘Arrivals’ report in the local papers every time I climb down from a stagecoach or step off a steamer. You remember what the press wrote when you traveled with me last year.”
    Mary Ann nodded, bouncing June gently on her lap. “Mr. Booth and Lady arrived in the city to-day,” was the standard phrase, but other reporters liked to add a line or two describing his lovely traveling companion in the most admiring terms. One had even boldly proclaimed that her dark, lustrous