Fates and Traitors by Jennifer Chiaverini Page A

curls, alabaster skin, graceful figure, and rosebud lips made her the handsomest woman he had ever seen.
    â€œEvery English actor on tour in America knows me, and they all know Adelaide divides her time between London and Brussels,” Junius said. “If they see you, they’ll ask questions, and they may carry tales back to her. We can’t afford a scandal. No gentleman would escort any lady to see me perform. No manager would hire me. My star would plummet to the earth even more swiftly than it rose. We would be ruined, darling. Surely you see that.”
    Mary Ann felt tears gathering and forced them back. She had thought that when June was older, they would all travel together, shehelping Junius with his wardrobe, little June amusing his father out of his dark moods, mother and child alike admiring Junius from the wings as he enthralled audiences from Maine to Florida.
    But she knew he was right. The only way they could protect their secret was for Mary Ann and June and any children who might come after to remain safely out of the public eye.
    So she acquiesced, though she had eloped with him to see the world by his side, not to hoe squash and weed a carrot patch in the wilderness.
    Junius threw himself into the role of farmer with such intensity and vigor he might have been rehearsing a newly discovered Shakespearean play—
Much Ado About Sowing
, perhaps, or
The Taming of the Weeds
. Mary Ann tended the baby, put the cozy farmhouse in order, scattered feed to the chickens, and gathered eggs while Junius planted potatoes, sweet corn, and okra and hired men to clear the fields for autumn wheat and barley.
    As the summer days passed, vigorous toil and the joy of Junius’s constant companionship eased Mary Ann’s apprehensions. One hot summer afternoon, she stood up from weeding the kitchen garden, arched her back to loosen a knot between her shoulders, gazed out upon a homestead transformed by their labors, and was struck with a sudden swell of pride, admiration, and delight. The Farm was not the home she had expected when she had contemplated their life in America during their long Atlantic crossing, but it was truly wonderful, a sanctuary where life was sacred and love reigned over all.
    Every evening at supper Mary Ann and Junius discussed improvements they wished to make to The Farm in the seasons to come, the expense of hiring more help and purchasing equipment, the profits they could reap if the crops thrived, if they grew more than they needed for themselves and could sell the surplus. Junius hoped that one day The Farm would provide for all their needs, except for books and certain tools and supplies they could not make themselves. These renovations would cost a pretty penny, Junius warned, funds that The Farm did not yet earn.
    One balmy night after she and Junius had made love and she lay blissful and drowsy in his arms, he kissed her on the forehead and stroked her long, dark hair away from her perspiring brow. “Mary Ann,my dearest,” he said, “you know I hate to be apart from you and the boy.”
    â€œNo more than we hate to be apart from you.”
    â€œBut I need to earn money.” He ran his hand from her elbow to her shoulder and back. “The theatre season will begin soon, and I’ve accepted several engagements.”
    â€œI had assumed you would have to. If you can keep Joe Hall on as foreman and find a capable woman to help me around the house, June and I will manage well enough if you have to travel now and then.”
    She was surprised when Junius shook his head, for Joe Hall was eminently competent and unquestionably loyal. Months before, Junius had hired him from a prosperous local farmer, but soon the nagging awareness that every cent the diligent man earned went into his owner’s pocket so outraged Junius that he had purchased Joe, set him free, and immediately hired him back with the dignity of freedom, choice, and