The Tobacco Lords Trilogy

by Margaret Thomson-Davis

  ‘It’s good solid muscle,’ he laughed.

  ‘Now it is but you’d better be careful it doesn’t turn to fat when you get older.’

  ‘Where’s my young niece, then? Ah!’ he shouted out when he saw the little girl hurrying down as quickly as she was able, one step at a time. ‘What a beauty she has become!’ Indeed she looked very pretty with her dark hair done up in a feather and beads and a frock of white striped gauze over a pink slip. The pink tints showed through the thinner folds of whiteness and around her waist was tied a vivid pink sash of gauze. Beneath the dress pink silk slippers kept peeping out.

  Gav stretched out his arms.

  ‘Come on then, let’s have a good look at you!’

  Laughing excitedly she ran to him and he hoisted her high.

  ‘I wonder if you like candy, eh? No, I don’t think you do.’

  Giggling, she nodded.

  ‘All right.’ He gave her a hug and a kiss before putting her down again. ‘You shall have some because I have a box of candies almost as beautiful as yourself and all made specially for you by your Aunty Abigail. Booster!’ he shouted at the door. ‘Hurry up with things. There’s a lady here waiting for that box with the cherry-coloured ribbon on it.’

  Regina led him into the drawing-room while Lottie waited at the front door for Booster to bring her present.

  ‘Did you get all my things, Gav?’

  ‘Every one,’ he assured her.

  ‘Good. Can I pour you a dram?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And how has life been treating you, sister?’

  ‘Oh, very well.’

  ‘You’re certainly looking well.’

  She poured herself a drink too and with a grin Gav came over and clicked glasses with her.

  ‘Here’s to us, and to our continuing prosperity, Regina.’

  ‘Yes, brother.’ She gave him a small smile. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

  ‘I was just thinking while I was journeying here, how well we’ve got on in life. We’ve been very lucky.’

  A flash of anger hardened her eyes.

  ‘Luck? What has luck had to do with anything? Any good, any success in our lives we’ve made happen ourselves.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Regina …’

  ‘Well I do.’

  Suddenly a deep voice from the doorway interrupted.

  ‘What’s this? Fighting already?’

  ‘Mr Harding!’ Gav strode across the room, hand outstretched to grasp that of his brother-in-law. ‘It’s good to see you again. But not half as good as it is to see your beautiful daughter. By God, she’s really something, isn’t she?’

  Harding had the little girl in his arms. She was clutching a box nearly as big as herself and her father grinned at her proudly.

  ‘You’ll see a big difference in her, Gav.’

  ‘Yes, she’s fairly come on. She came racing down the stairs to meet me and I bet she can talk as well, although I haven’t heard her yet.’

  ‘Put her down, sir.’ Regina said. ‘She must show her manners and greet her uncle properly.’

  Harding took the box from Lottie and set her down on her feet. She looked uncertainly over at Regina, then lifted her skirts and wobbled down among them, saying at the same time in an unexpected coquettish little voice. ‘Welcome to Forest Hall, sir. I hope you will have a pleasant stay.’

  Gav couldn’t help grinning but he managed to bow very civilly in reply.

  ‘Thank you, Mistress Lottie, you are most kind.’

  ‘Mama, can I open the candies now?’ Lottie asked.

  ‘Very well.’

  ‘Has a shipment arrived, Gav?’ Harding asked.

  ‘Yes, everything from cases of whisky and silver-mounted Morocco pocket-books to ivory toothpicks and gold snuffboxes. Not to mention all the pretty trifles for mistress Lottie here that her fond Mama ordered.’

  ‘What’s pretty trifles, Uncle Gav?’ Lottie asked with a mouth full of candy.

  ‘Lottie!’ Regina rebuked sharply. ‘Do not speak with your mouth full.’

  Gav laughed.

  ‘Oh, you’ll soon see. But there’s silk and satin and lawn and calico and gauze and lace. Your Mama must be going to make you lots of pretty dresses. There’s a fashion baby too and I’m sure you’re going to like it. There’s a fur muff and a tortoise-shell pocket comb in a case and two of those umbrillos or umbrellas as some folk call them, a small one for you painted pink, and one for your Mama painted yellow and both decorated with feathers. They were the devil’s own job to transport, I can tell you.’

  ‘How is your family, Gav?’ Regina inquired politely.

  ‘Enjoying splendid health at the moment, thanks to God. And so is Abigail. A few months back we were worried about the children. First Bette took a fever and head pains then Jethro, but we managed to cure them all right.’

  ‘Did you sweat them?’

  ‘Yes, but it wasn’t easy.’

  ‘I’ve found tincture of saffron and sage and snakeroot is very efficient.’

  ‘Of course,’ Gav said. ‘You’ll get plenty of practice in doctoring with having so many slaves.’

  ‘Lunesta and Little Sam are serving your family well, I hope,’ Regina said.

  ‘Better slaves you couldn’t find in the whole of Virginia,’ Gav enthused. ‘They’re devoted to Jethro and Bette and Lunesta’s such a help to Abby too. You did us a real good turn by giving us them, Regina, and I thank you again.’

  Regina shrugged.

  ‘I’m glad they’re of some use.’

  Harding poured himself a whisky and refilled the other glasses.

  ‘How long are you here for, Gav?’

  ‘Only tonight, I’m afraid. I can’t spare any more time away from the store. In fact if it hadn’t been that I wanted to see you all I would have just sent Tom with the wagon.’

  Harding stood in front of the fire sipping his whisky, one hand in the top of his breeches. He was wearing a claret-coloured coat and a frilled white shirt which lay open revealing a broad expanse of tanned skin and black hair.

  ‘So you’re manager now, eh? Well, let’s hope you make a better job of it than the drunken fool that was supposed to be managing it before.’

  Gav sighed.

  ‘Poor Mr Speckles. It’s the consumption. It’s been the ruination of his body and his mind.’

  He was silent for a minute, regretfully remembering. ‘One time he told me he had been kicked and railed at by “young Harding”. I thought he meant you at first.’

  Harding laughed.

  ‘Young Harding? Thanks for the compliment, Gav.’

  Rising, Regina spoke quickly.

  ‘You’ll be hungry, Gav. I’ll ring for tea, or are you ready for dinner now? I could arrange to have it early.’

  ‘I’m quite happy just now, thanks. I ate the last of my cornbread not long before I arrived.’

  ‘What were you saying about Speckles?’ Harding asked. ‘He thought I’d given him a kicking? I’ve certainly felt like it many a time.’

  ‘No, I discovered he meant a child. He kept insisting it was your son. I told him it was a daughter you had, but no, the poor man would have none of it. “I looked up at the sturdy young fellow,” he kept raving on. “I looked at the young fellow’s black hair and dark eyes and I said, oh, how like your father you are, sir”.’ Gav shook his head. ‘I know all the children who belong to the settlement and I can’t think of one who even vaguely resembles you. Of course there are others who come from time to time with planters and their friends …’

  Suddenly Regina gave a little cry as her whisky glass fell and smashed, spurting amber fluid across the floor. ‘Oh, how clumsy of me. I’m so sorry.’ She cast an anguished look at Harding. ‘Will you call for one of the slaves to clear this up, please? I’m afraid it will stain.’ Snatching up her fan she agitated it in front of her face. Harding stared at her with hard, thoughtful eyes.

  Avoiding his stare she switched her attention to Lottie who was sit
ting on the rug happily eating candies and listening to everything that was going on.

  ‘Shut that box at once, you naughty, greedy girl. You will make yourself sick with eating so many. Go and get Flemintina to take you upstairs and wash your sticky face and hands.’

  Lottie’s eyes widened in surprise and chagrin.

  ‘No want to go upstairs.’

  ‘How dare you!’ Regina had gone icy cold. ‘How dare you speak to me in that impertinent manner. Get out of my sight at once before I give you a beating.’

  Without a word Harding lifted the child and carried her from the room.

  Gav screwed up his face.

  ‘Regina, don’t you think you were a bit hard on her.’

  ‘No, I do not, sir. And I’ll thank you to mind your own business. Why should you come here, stirring up trouble and ruining everything? I’ll tell you why, sir. Because you are stupid. You have the brains as well as the build of an ox.’

  Harding’s voice levelled over hers.

  ‘That’s enough, mistress. Come on, Gav. We’ve time for a stroll before dinner.’

  ‘But I don’t understand.’

  Gav stared perplexedly at his sister, then, as if making a decision not to query the matter further, he strode from the room. He was thinking that the sudden change in Regina’s mood was so typical of her. Sometimes he feared that she was a little mad. Indeed it occurred to him that all his life he had had this secret niggling dread at the back of his mind.

  Left alone in the drawing room Regina felt as though she was either going mad or taking ill. Pacing the room in extreme agitation she kneaded her hands together and struggled to gather her thoughts into some coherent order. Perhaps Harding would not remember Annabella’s story about Mungo kicking a man in the settlement and so would not connect that incident with the one Gav had just spoken of. After all it was some time now since Annabella’s visit.

  But if he had, and she was sure he had, what would he do?

  Oh, why had Gav come? She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. She had never needed anyone. As long as she was safe and secure she was all right. And she had been safe and secure in Forest Hall until he’d come. He had ruined everything she had fought and suffered to make of her life.

  For if Harding knew that he had a son, there would be no telling what might happen. Harding was capable of doing anything. He would not scruple to get rid of her and replace her with the precious mother of his precious son. He had always been besotted with Annabella and if she was the mother of his child she must have felt something for him at some time. Of course Annabella had denied this but with her own eyes she had seen Annabella’s flirtatious gestures and looks. Annabella had been enticing Harding all the time during her visit.

  What was behind her behaviour?

  All along she’d felt apprehensive about Annabella and knew that there was much more to her apparently harmless charm than could be detected on the surface.

  Why should Mistress Annabella be so charming and friendly, even affectionate to her? She had been the cause of having the woman’s lover tortured, horribly mutilated and killed. Forgive and forget, Mistress Annabella had said. But she had lied. It was not possible to forgive or forget such a thing. No, somehow Annabella had engineered this as an act of vengeance.

  First she’d planned and succeeded in humiliating her in Forest Hall. Next she would try to take it away from her. She would try to strip her of everything, to reduce her to the terrified beggar she had once been. Well, Mistress Annabella would not succeed. Somehow she would hang on. Somehow she would find a way.

  20

  HOW Regina survived the rest of Gav’s visit she did not know. The dinner was a nightmare, although she succeeded in behaving in a calm and pleasant manner. She even managed to sit coolly sewing and smiling and joining in the conversation between Gav and Harding. Harding had never said a word about Gav’s story concerning the boy at the settlement and she began to wonder if her prayers had been answered. Perhaps, after all, Harding had noticed nothing amiss.

  Next day she felt somewhat easier because by lunchtime everything was still perfectly normal. Indeed, Harding had opened several bottles of wine and he and Gav had become quite merry. They saw Gav off immediately after the meal with much waving by Lottie and wishes for a safe journey by Harding and herself. She allowed Gav to kiss her goodbye and even gave him a quick peck in return.

  ‘Are you sure you have enough food for the journey?’ she asked.

  He laughed.

  ‘You’re both far too kind. I’ve enough delicious food here for half a dozen journeys. Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you? I’ll see that all your letters are delivered, and I’ll send off your order, and I’ll keep those paper patterns and magazines for you, Regina. But are you sure there’s nothing else?’

  ‘Nothing I can think of at the moment.’

  ‘Well, do try and come and visit the settlement soon.’

  ‘I will.’

  She raised her hand in a wave and he urged the horses forward. The wagon lurched and creaked and rocked away between the trees, soon to disappear.

  First Harding returned to the house, then Flemintina and Lottie. Finally Regina eased up her skirts and climbed the outside wooden stairs and entered the hall. The chandelier tinkled in the breeze as Westminster shut the double doors behind her. She stopped for a minute, admiring the place, the richly gleaming woodwork, the dark blue carpet, the banisters arching round to the first floor corridor. Then she went into the drawing-room.

  Harding was standing in his favourite position in front of the fire as he sipped a glass of whisky. His eyes narrowed at her when she entered but he did not speak.

  ‘Has Flemintina taken Lottie upstairs?’ she asked.

  Still he said nothing. He just stared at her and every now and again took a drink from his glass.

  Eventually he said:

  ‘You knew.’

  ‘Knew?’ She raised a brow. ‘Knew what? That Flemintina had taken Lottie upstairs? If I knew why …’

  ‘Don’t play games with me, mistress,’ he interrupted. ‘I have written to Annabella and asked for confirmation. I am entitled to know the truth.’

  ‘The truth is, sir, that your only responsibility and concern should be here with your wife and daughter.’

  ‘I am not forgetting my daughter. But if I have a son, his place is here with me where I can train him to take over the plantation.’

  ‘If you must have a son, then I will give you a son.’

  ‘If I have a son already, I no longer need you to give me one. I will go over to Glasgow as soon as I have a reply from Annabella. I will bring the boy back here. And I will bring Annabella back too, if she will come.’

  ‘You cannot do that.’

  ‘I can do whatever I like.’

  ‘No. I will never allow it.’

  Sarcasm widened his eyes.

  ‘You will not allow it? Mistress, have you taken leave of your senses? You have as much influence over me as one of my slaves. Did you not know that?’

  ‘I hate you,’ she said.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I’ve always hated you.’ She began to tremble. ‘You’re a selfish, insensitive brute. I hate everything about you.’

  ‘Ah, now, that’s not quite true. There are some things about me you find irresistible. I confess I find that the same things in you have a certain mindless attraction.’

  She turned away from him blindly trying to reach the door, but before she escaped she heard him say:

  ‘It’s been the only thing that’s been between us, Regina. But it’s a thin thread. You see, I’ve never forgotten my passion for Annabella.’

  Upstairs in her bedroom, she wept. But after the tears had all emptied out and she was exhausted, a new resolve began to grow inside her. It would take at least six weeks for that letter to reach Annabella in Glasgow and another six weeks for a reply to return to Virginia. That gave her three months’ grace. Somehow in that three
months she must make Harding change his plans. She would try everything and anything. It was impossible that her position in Forest Hall should be taken from her. If Annabella came, and she would, then instead of continuing as mistress she would at best be no more than a servant in her own house. And she knew what it was like to be a servant to Annabella. She had had bitter experience of that state in Glasgow. She remembered her first confrontation with Annabella. Gav and she had been children then and wandering in Glasgow Green with the beggar Quin, when Annabella had suddenly swept towards them and said:

  ‘You, girl! Do you know who I am?’

  Nervously she had rubbed her fist against her eyes and mouth and stuttered:

  ‘Are you … are you … ?’

  ‘Speak up!’ Annabella rapped the child’s fist with her fan. ‘And stop rubbing at your face in that ridiculous manner. I asked you a question. Look me straight in the eye and answer it.’

  ‘Mistress Ramsay?’

  Then she’d threatened Quin that if he didn’t make sure that Regina turned up to start work next day, she would have him hanged. Mistress Annabella always made sure that she got what she wanted. Nothing ever daunted her. When she wanted to be with her French lover she had followed him from Glasgow to the Highlands and stayed with him through the battle of Culloden and beyond. And she’d dragged her servants through that hell with her.

  Regina closed her eyes against the memory. Oh, she knew what it was like to be a servant to Annabella all right. She was never going to be that again. She would have to leave. And that might mean leaving without as much as a change of clothing or one gold piece. Under the law she had no right to remove one glove, one handkerchief, far less any money or any children she might have. A married female, the law insisted, lost title to her clothing and other intimate possessions and forfeited any money she had brought to the marriage. Her stomach dipped and heaved at the insecurity of the prospect. But what was she thinking about? Such a thing could not happen. It was impossible. There was no reason for such a danger to arise. She had imagined everything. Her emotions alternated and confused between razor sharp alarm, woolly inability to accept the truth, and bursts of optimistic resolve to transform everything and everyone.