“Please pardon my intrusion,” Stanton said, as he sat down, “but Magnus has been bragging on your rice pudding all over the county, Mrs. Merian, and I was wondering whether it is everything he has said.”
Adelia beamed broadly and nearly giggled aloud. “Stop,” she said. Libbie smiled into her napkin as Adelia took up a bowl, which was not fancy and silver laid, as in some homes, but plain. She then served Mr. Stanton a generous portion, feeling like a girl as he tucked into it.
Their guest still had not announced his business, and as he ate Magnus wondered whether the man’s mind had not gone off wandering, or whether he was not perhaps just sad over in that great big hall by himself, and perhaps really had come over only to share in a spot of pudding.
“It is the best I have ever tasted, Adelia,” Stanton said, as he finished the bowl. “May I call you Adelia? There wouldn’t happen to be any more, would there?”
Libbie served him this time, watching him smile from the corner of her eye. He was perhaps ten years older than Magnus but looked nothing like his age, being a bachelor and having no doubt access to such potions as only men of his station did to maintain themselves.
“You have a fine place here, Magnus Merian. You have truly done well,” he said, reclining in his seat with such ease one would have thought he dined there every evening. “It is too seldom that I visit with my neighbors, I’m afraid.”
“I suspect, Mr. Stanton,” Magnus said, “that you are far too busy with your time for much visiting.”
“True,” Stanton answered, pleased that someone acknowledged how hard he labored and how scarce his time was. “Between my farm and the business of the Legislature, I don’t always know where an entire day has gotten off to when it’s over and done.”
If before his presence there seemed unreal, it began to seem perfectly normal to all of them as he tucked into his second helping of rice pudding and indulged in the counting of his time — such as had always been a great pastime there at Stonehouses.
“As I rode up I noticed a very handsome sundial out front. Do you mind if ask where you acquired it?”
“My father built it,” Magnus answered with pride.
“He was a quite a man, Jasper Merian,” Stanton said. “I always wished I had known him better. And how is your father, young lady?”
Libbie sat up straight as she could. “He is well, sir. Thank you for your thoughtful inquiry.”
Stanton smiled. “What a fine family you have, Magnus. Do you mind if I call you that?”
“Not at all, sir,” Merian said, flattered by such familiarity.
“And how is your holding?” he asked, turning to Caleum, for it was really him he had come to see.
Caleum had not spoken at all other than to greet their guest, and, if the others had forgotten, he still wondered what he wanted there, as ever since Stanton entered the hall he knew it must be very serious news that he was only delaying in delivering.
“I cannot complain. I have been blessed with good soil, and I imagine I’ll start putting out seeds in a day or so.”
“So soon? I was thinking of waiting until next week myself. Do you think I am making a mistake?”
“No, sir,” Caleum answered with equanimity, not betraying any surprise that such a man should seek his opinion, nor showing any bashfulness in tendering it. “Acre sits up on a hill, and the way the winds come in this time of year I imagine another week of frost for you in the main field.”
“Just as I have always maintained,” Stanton answered, impressed with the younger man’s reasoning and observation. “That is very sharp of you, Caleum. Then they say around Miss Boutencourt’s that you are a bright young man.”
Caleum did not think to ask how Stanton knew this, or why he should go seeking it, as it seemed natural that Rudolph Stanton would know everything that went on in Berkeley.
“Tell me now, what do you think of the disagreement with our friends in London?”
“What in particular?” Caleum asked.
“Do you think in the main it is time to separate out from them?”
“I don’t know about time,” Caleum answered, “but it seems headed that way. As to which side I would choose I have no doubt.”
“No, nor I,” Stanton said.
It was unclear whether they meant the same thing, and Libbie and Adelia were concerned then to know why Stanton had shown up in the middle of the night to begin a discussion of politics. Magnus, however, had his suspicions and looked at Adelia, and she at Libbie, and the two of them withdrew.
“I imagine Caleum sees things much as you do,” Magnus interjected, not wanting to leave him alone on such uncertain ground.
“Does he?” Stanton asked, giving Magnus his full attention. “How do I see things?”
“Well, Mr. Stanton, neither of us would presume to know your thoughts,” Magnus said, uncomfortable with what he feared was a trap. “But if I had to guess, based on my dealings with you from the past, I would say you thought people was pretty much the same and deserved to be treated fair and that whatever side you take would be for the best reasons.”
“Is that what I think, Caleum?” Stanton asked.
“Equal,” Caleum answered. “Not all the same, but yes, in the main, equal.”
Stanton was pleased, and nodded.
“Do you think as well that men are all born as blank slates and that only experience makes them what they are?” Caleum asked then, grown a little bold.
Stanton smiled at him. “Indeed, boy,” he said, “I do. Is it what you think?”
“In principle,” Caleum said. “I think, though, some men might be born inclined more toward one thing than others, and what they experience might only bring it out in them.”
“Well, it is a ticklish business.” Stanton smiled. “You know then why I have come here?”
Caleum and Magnus both admitted that they did not, as Stanton took his pipe from his vest and began to smoke, much at home in the Merian house and happy with Caleum’s natural good sense. “I have been charged with organizing a militia,” he confessed, “and I wanted to know whether you might have any interest in it.”
When Stanton said charged, it was clear he was in with other powerful people, and by interest he meant Caleum’s loyalty.
“Are you expecting troubles?” Magnus asked, concerned only for Caleum’s well-being.
“What is on the horizon I cannot say, but I plan on Berkeley being prepared and all our properties protected, whatever occurs.”
Both men looked at Caleum, who took in everything before him but did nothing to betray his thoughts.
“He’ll answer you tomorrow then, Mr. Stanton, unless of course you need an answer right this moment,” Magnus said, knowing they would be granted what he had requested. It was not that he thought Caleum a child and unable to decide properly, but only that he wanted to protect his boy’s interest and well-being as he was used to doing, even if he was a man by now. In this case time would best achieve that.
“I’ll join,” Caleum said abruptly, defying his uncle and grown tired of the game with Stanton.
“I think you had better think about it,” Magnus reprimanded him. “Mr. Stanton, you know we’ve always tried to do whatever we could in support of Berkeley, but this is serious and needs to be thought about seriously.”
“Yes, you should think about it,” Stanton said to Caleum.
Caleum agreed to think it over for the night.
He did not wish to trade the harmony of his life for the lawlessness of war, but he already knew what he would do. It was less a matter of political belief than the fact that his neighbor had asked him, and he felt he had a debt of honor to repay and would not fail his responsibility.