Charles enjoyed going to the port to oversee loading and unloading. Finlay used to do that a lot when he was alive, and Charles felt like he was following in his brother’s footsteps. He always took a glass of port or brandy with the captains, catching up on the latest news and gossip. Alec had been devoting more of his time to the planting of tobacco, delegating more of the shipping to Charles. The tobacco had been planted in spring and was now flowering, leaving Alec free, but the death of the baby took its toll, so Alec left Charles take care of business.
“How have you been, Captain Smith? Any adventures on this last voyage?”
The captain was tall and thin, with a pointy white beard and rheumy blue eyes. He looked more tired every time he came into port. The man had to be in his sixties by now. He had been the captain of the Morning Star for at least twenty years.
“Not on this voyage, thankfully. I tell you, Mr. Whitfield, sailing has become a very dangerous business. The Barbary pirates used to pillage the Mediterranean Coast, but they’re now coming as far as the North Atlantic. They’ve learned shipbuilding techniques from those damn Dutch and are building stronger, faster ships. There are more attacks than ever. The slave trade is booming in North Africa.”
“Yes, I know. Captain Horace of the Misty Dawn tells me that it’s booming in the West Indies as well. The slave markets are a huge draw for merchants from all parts of the world. I fear it won’t be long before they are trying to bring African slaves here to America.” Charles had heard detailed accounts of the slave auctions on the islands and was partly curious, partly horrified.
“I can’t see that happening, Mr. Whitfield. What kind of decent white folk would want to own African slaves? Who could afford them anyway? Most of these colonists are barely scratching out a living as is. Sure, there are some wealthy people, but they seem content to buy the indentured servants. It profits both servant and master, and at least they gain their freedom at the end of their contract. What would happen if the Negro slaves were set free? Would they be free men? That’s preposterous.”
“I take your point, Captain Smith. Now, how are things in England?”
“Much the same, Mr. Whitfield. The King is at odds with Parliament, but at least he hasn’t dragged us into any wars recently. I tell you, Mr. Whitfield, I am getting weary in my old age. I have a small cottage outside of Plymouth. My widowed sister keeps it for me. I long to retire there, maybe find a good woman to marry. I’ve been a widower these past fifteen years. Might be time to find a companion for my old age.” The captain finished his drink and rose to his feet. It was a signal that it was time for Charles to leave.
“I hope your dream comes to fruition, Captain. I’ll just let myself out.”
“Please give my regards and condolences to Mr. Alec and Mrs. Whitfield.”
“I most certainly will, Captain Smith. Good day to you.”
Charles retrieved his horse from the public house and set out for home. He considered paying a visit to Janet, but changed his mind. He was in no mood to deal with her little brat. At least he was asleep at night, but if he visited now, the child would be up and about and full of energy.
Charles used to visit Janet regularly since the age of sixteen, but he’d hardly been there the past year. Janet lost her husband nearly two years ago, selling her favors to supplement her meager income from taking in sewing. Truth be told, she began to whore long before her husband died, wanting a bit of company while he was at sea. Janet had her son to take care of, and Charles often gave her an extra coin or two, or brought her some rabbits or venison for the pot. He was relieved to know that the boy wasn’t his. Janet claimed he was her husband’s, and he chose to believe her.
Charles adjusted his hat to shield his face from the hot sun and trotted down the road to Rosewood. He was in no rush. It was a beautiful day, and he had no reason to hurry home. There was nothing waiting for him there, except gloom. He wished Cora was still alive. He really missed her. Cora came to Rosewood Manor eighteen months ago with her sister, Amelia. Charles noticed Amelia first. She was like a paler version of Annabel Gaines, blond and blue-eyed with a lovely, trim figure. He tried to talk to Amelia or give her the occasional trinket, but the girl would get spooked and run from the room, her eyes averted, her cheeks flaming. After a month of two Charles gave up. He had no desire to force his attentions on anyone.
Cora was different from her sister. She was dark-haired and dark-eyed, with an impish smile and quick wit. She always had a sweet smile for Charles, and gladly accepted a ribbon for her hair or pretty buttons for her frock. Charles enjoyed their flirtation and waited for the right moment to make his move. At sixteen, Cora was undoubtedly a maiden, and he didn’t want to frighten her off. There was time aplenty. He enjoyed the chase as much as he enjoyed the conquest.
Cora came to him soon enough. It was last summer. She waited for Amelia to fall asleep, then crept to his room in her nightdress and shawl. Charles was excited. He’d never had a virgin before, and took his time getting her ready. He kissed her and caressed her until she was melting like butter on warm bread. She whimpered sweetly when he took her maidenhead, and didn’t carry on or cry. Their meetings became regular after that. Cora took to sex like a fish to water. She couldn’t get enough. Sometimes she actually managed to shock Charles. She would come into a room when he was alone, and flash him a breast or touch his cock. Once she actually turned around and lifted her skirts to her waist, shaking her sweet little bottom at him. Charles nearly lost it there and then. He followed her to the spring house, where Cora sank to her knees and sucked him until he spilled himself into her mouth.
Yes, he missed Cora. He had been crazed with jealousy when he saw her follow Alec into the stables, and then again into his study a few weeks ago. He snuck into the study that night, to see if he could find any evidence of their tryst, but there was nothing that he could see. Was he sharing her with his brother? He had never known Alec to trifle with the help, but then again, with his wife pregnant, he was probably living a monk’s existence. Charles had no idea if people were allowed to copulate during pregnancy, but he figured Alec was too much of a gentleman to trouble his wife while she was with child.
Charles showered Cora with little gifts and always took care not to get her pregnant. He didn’t want to bring disgrace upon her or ruin her life. She would want to marry some day and there was no need to ruin her reputation. He wasn’t sure if Amelia knew of their trysts, but he hoped not. She wouldn’t approve, that was for sure.
Charles jumped off his horse and picked some wildflowers that grew on the side of the road. He would stop by the cemetery and lay some flowers on Cora’s grave. He would put some on Alexander’s as well.
Chapter 45
Agnes pretended to be asleep when her mistress crept back into the cabin and lay down on her berth. Agnes didn’t need to see her face to know that she was smiling. So, it happened then. Mr. Sheridan must have found her all right. On her back, he found her. Agnes put her hands on her growing belly. Would he marry Mistress Jamison?
She sighed with worry. Agnes had gotten to know her mistress relatively well over the past weeks, and was beginning to think that she wouldn’t be too hard on her when she found out about the baby. This changed everything. If she married Mr. Sheridan, he would become Agnes’s master, and he might not take kindly to her disgrace. If only she would miscarry. Agnes had been so terrified during the pirate attack, she thought she might lose the baby right there and then, but nothing happened. The blasted child hung on. She thought it was curious that the Collins women, who were righteous and godly, were abducted; while Agnes, who had sinned and deserved punishment, had remained unmolested. The Lord certainly worked in mysterious ways.
Agnes listened to Louisa’s even breathing. Had this been the first time she had lain with the captain? She might be with child as well. Agnes pondered the implications of that idea as she finally fell asleep.
Chapter 46
Valerie forced herself to get out of bed. She h
ad been so lethargic lately. Her body was getting back to normal after the birth, but her mind still reeled. She went to the cemetery every day, gazing at the freshly carved cross with her son’s name on it. If only things could have been different. Her breasts ached with milk despite being tightly bound; a sad reminder of the child she would be nursing had he been alive. Valerie put her hands on her empty belly. He should still have been in there; instead, he lay in this miserable little cemetery.
Valerie glanced over at Cora’s grave. Someone had left a bunch of wildflowers on the mound of earth. It must have been Amelia. The poor girl had been floating around the house like a ghost since her sister’s death. They had been so close. Valerie turned to leave the graveyard and made her way back to the house. She would go talk to Amelia. Maybe she could find something out about Cora’s activities in the days before her death. Valerie knew that Alec was still agonizing over Charlie’s accusations, and hoped she might shed some light on the matter.
Amelia was cleaning Louisa’s bedroom when Valerie finally tracked her down. She was pale and drawn, dark circles under her eyes. Amelia didn’t even bother to greet Valerie, just went about her business.
“How are you, Amelia?” Valerie pretended to be looking for something, not to put the girl on her guard.
“I am well, ma’am.” Amelia continued to dust, her eyes averted.
“You must miss your sister very much.”
“I do, ma’am. I miss her every moment of every day.” Amelia turned to Valerie, her eyes swimming with tears. “I want to know who done it, ma’am.”
“So, help me find out. Did Cora have a young man? I’ve never seen her with anyone, but maybe there was someone among the workers.”
“She snuck out several nights a week to go meet someone, but I don’t know who it was. She never said.”
“Did she seem happy or frightened? Do you think someone was forcing her?” Amelia thought about that for a moment, dusting forgotten.
“She was as she should be, ma’am. Not scared or anything. I suppose she was enjoying whatever they were doing.” Amelia hastily averted her eyes and went back to her task. She’d said everything she was going to say on the subject.
“Thank you, Amelia. Let me know if you need anything.”
Valerie left the room and went down to the garden. She needed to think, and she found the peace of the garden to be soothing. So, she now knew that Cora probably had a lover. Amelia said that she snuck out at night, so it couldn’t be Alec, not that she ever really thought it was. Alec usually went to bed with Valerie and stayed in bed all night. Valerie was a light sleeper, especially during pregnancy; and she would have known if he was sneaking out.
Cora might have been meeting one of the field workers. There was a loft over the stables that could be used for assignations. No one slept there and it was a nice, private space that was warm and dry. Valerie took a mental inventory of the male workers. Most of them were older men who showed very obvious signs of wear. She couldn’t imagine that a young, pretty girl like Cora would be attracted to any of them. There were two younger men who could be called handsome. She would have to go and speak with them.
Valerie didn’t think Alec would approve of her questioning the workers, but she needed to find out. Besides, it took her mind off her darling baby, if only for a short time. Valerie headed to the barracks that housed their workforce. They had been built especially for that purpose, and were some distance from the house. There were two buildings, housing twenty men. At this time of day, the workers would be having their midday meal. By the time Valerie got there, they would be nearly finished eating, ready to return to the fields.
The men were just coming outside when Valerie approached the building. She was glad to see that they all looked fit and well fed. They might be indentured, but they were treated with kindness and respect. Valerie knew all of them by name, and had spoken to them all over time, finding out their stories and their goals for the future. The workers greeted Valerie warmly as they shuffled by, stepping aside to let her pass.
Valerie spotted the two young men she wanted and called out to them. “Martin. Richard. May I have a word?” The men looked startled. The lady of the house didn’t normally single them out.
“Certainly, ma’am. How can we help ye?” Martin was close to twenty, tall and lean. He had cornflower-blue eyes, and flaxen hair that any girl would find appealing. Richard was his exact opposite; short and stocky, with curling dark hair and pitch black eyes. He was not as handsome, but there was intensity in him that some girls might find appealing.
“Richard, would you mind waiting outside while I speak to Martin alone? I would like a word with you after.” Valerie led Martin back into the house and into the dining room. She sat down on a bench, but Martin remained standing, his hat in his work roughened hands.
“Please, sit down, Martin. I just want to ask you a few simple questions. How well did you know Cora?” Martin looked genuinely surprised.
“She came in with Mrs. Dolly from time to time to help serve the meals and clean up and such. She was always friendly, but she never spoke to me direct like, if that’s what ye’re asking.”
“Had you ever seen her with anyone? Was she friendly with any of the men?” Valerie was watching Martin carefully, but she couldn’t see any tension or annoyance.
“I cannot say as I’ve seen her with anyone, ma’am. I think I saw her walking out of the spring house with Mr. Charles once, but I cannot be sure. I was too far away.”
“Thank you, Martin. Can you send in Richard now?” Valerie felt like a detective, asking all these questions. It was actually kind of fun.
“Richard. I will only keep you for a moment. I was wondering how well you knew Cora.” Richard cocked his head to the side and stared at Valerie, his eyes narrowed in thought.
“I saw her when she came with the cook.”
“Did you ever speak to her?”
“I did. We spoke a few times. She told me about her home in Lincoln, and I told her about Cornwall. She liked little trinkets, so I carved her a wooden box to keep them in.” Richard looked sad at the thought of Cora, leaving Valerie to wonder if he had been in love with her.
“Were you courting her?” Richard looked at Valerie with a smirk.
“I ‘ave five years left on my contract, Mrs. Whitfield. I ‘ave no house, no money and at this moment, no future. How could I court anyone? What would I ‘ave to offer a girl who lives in a big house and sleeps in a warm bed? I liked her, yes, but we weren’t courting. I never touched her, if that’s what ye’re getting at. May I go now?”
Valerie nodded and watched him leave. She had no idea if Richard was telling the truth. He seemed to feel angry about his lot in life, but would that drive him to murder? And why kill Cora? Valerie wondered if Cora might have rejected him, driving him into a rage. She walked back out into the summer sunshine. She was suddenly tired, and very sad. She would go find Louisa and read her a story before her nap. That always made her feel better.
Chapter 47
Louisa stood on deck, inhaling deeply. She had been smelling it for a few days now –- the smell of the tropics. The turquoise water sparkled in the blazing sun, cries of seagulls audible overhead as they dove for fish into the tranquil blue of the sea. Louisa turned up her face, allowing the golden rays to warm her before retreating back under her parasol. She hadn’t had one of her own, so Agnes pilfered a parasol from the belongings of Miss Collins, which were still in her cabin. Louisa didn’t like to take the girl’s things, but for a young woman to have a tanned face simply did not do in the seventeenth century. Anne and Judith Collins were always in her thoughts. She prayed for them daily, hoping against hope that they were all right somehow.
Louisa was beginning to understand why people throughout history had been so devout. God was probably the only thing that stood between them and the abyss. They had to believe that their God was loving and just, and if only they prayed hard enough, would hear them and answer their pleas.
Louisa squinted at the spec in the distance. Kit said they would be able to see land by midafternoon, and it was nearly eleven. They would be putting into port at Kingston for supplies and repairs. She looked up at the bridge. Kit was at the wheel, his face shaded from the sun by his cavalier hat. He had let the word slip that he was now betrothed to Mistress Jamison, so the crew and Reverend Blackley were forced to turn a blind eye to some unseemly behavior, such as Louisa coming up on the bridge without an invitation and standing next to their captain.
The reverend usually tried to hide his scowl when he saw her with Kit, but he had no say in the matter. She was the captain’s fiancée, after all. They still have to be extremely discreet. For a woman to be seen coming out of a man’s cabin, even if he was her betrothed, in the morning, would mean immediate ruin. Louisa usually left in the dead of night, making sure the coast was clear before dashing to her own cabin, her face covered with the hood of her cloak. Since there were only two women on board, it could only be her or Agnes, but she still didn’t want anyone to see her face.
Louisa had to admit that once she actually accepted Kit, she felt a certain peace steal over her. She hadn’t realized how scared she’d been until Kit said that he would take care of her and help her find Valerie. She tried not to think of what she would do if she couldn’t find her sister, which would be catastrophic. She would be alone in a struggling colony with only the Reverend Blackley as an acquaintance. Unless someone was able to tell her the whereabouts of the Whitfields, her search would be at an end. Knowing that Kit would be there with her allowed her to breathe again, and she blew him an affectionate kiss, seeing him smile. She would share a midday meal with him in his cabin and talk with him then.
A Leap of Faith (The Hands of Time: Book 2) Page 14
