“If this is true, do you realize what this would mean to me? Freedom. If I owned property, I could be free of Jarvis. Lily, Cookie and I could live without his threats.” Claire placed her hand over her heart, reeling with the possible ramifications. “But how?”
A servant intoned dinner was to be served. They both rose and followed everyone into the dining room. Mrs. Bennett tapped Claire’s shoulder with her fan. “That’s the part that has me perplexed. I thought I’d share my reflections with you. Two heads are better than this old one. My mind is not as good as it used to be. I had kept journals but during a fire some were burned and others deposited in a warehouse. I’ll continue searching and pray something triggers my mind to remember why I feel you own the plantation.”
Governor Stark stood at the head-table and bowed a signal for everyone to be seated. Her uncle entered with curt apologies for his tardiness.
“Lord of heaven.” Jarvis ranted when his eyes beheld his slave standing behind the governor. “Was there ever such an insolent rogue? Before I am done with you, I will see you with a halter round your neck.”
Like everyone else, Claire stared in astonishment. Devon’s spine was straighter and his gaze more direct even though he cultivated a pose of well-bred indifference.
“Here, here, Sir Jarvis. Don’t let anything happen to my physician. It would put me in ill temper,” the governor wheedled, his challenge clear.
“I will not eat dinner with a traitor to the King present.” Jarvis pounded his fist on the table. The dinnerware jumped.
“He is my physician in attendance at my request. You are profiting well by this arrangement are you not?” said Governor Stark, grudgingly politic and annoyed.
Jarvis glowered at Devon. “I hope the taste of the food is not destroyed.”
Sir Teakle picked up the gauntlet and addressed Devon. “This slavery in which you find yourself in must be irksome to a man such as yourself. I am no fool, my dear doctor. I know a man when I see one, and often I can tell his thoughts.”
“Faith. Then tell me mine. It would be a new experience for me to be sure,” Devon dared.
Sir Teakle leaned over the table to give a confidential tone, yet spoke loud enough over the hushed whispers and watchful eyes for all to gather what was said. His hard blue eyes peered across the room to the dark-skinned, sardonic face of the slave who challenged him. He took pleasure casting down a slave and his game angered Claire. “I can imagine you staring out to sea, your soul in your eyes. Don’t I know what you are thinking? If you could escape from this hell of slavery, you would escape as soon as you could.”
The knight breathed heavily from the exertion of his speech, smiling for he had everyone’s full attention. But his hard eyes continued to study his impassive prey. “Well,” he said with deliberate pause. “What do you say to that?”
Devon did not answer. Claire noticed the tight flexing of his fingers.It had taken twelve of the King’s good men to hold him down. She imagined the debate in Devon’s mind, taking the sword from the Colonel seated next to the governor and running the grinning fop through. A lot of good that would do him.
The fop laughed at him, his cruel jest at Devon’s expense. Titters broke out from the ladies. The men gave him a condescending smirk before they turned their conversation to their dinner companions. Devon ignored them. They wanted a reaction from him, and he was not going to gratify them.
Claire’s ill-temper toward Devon faded. She observed him in secret admiration from the time he met her uncle’s glare unflinchingly to his casual disregard for Sir Teakle’s needling jabs.
“Remember to curb your imprudence. It would be with regret to lose you,” Sir Teakle threatened. “Or perhaps you’d like to challenge me to a duel.” The knight laughed at his joke.
“My physician can speak. I like debate,” allowed the governor.
Devon smiled though without mirth. “That is to flatter me beyond all that I deserve.” Sir Teakle picked at his lace cuff. “You rest easy now, supplied by the Governor’s good graces. I wonder how brave you would be while not in his august company.”
“Fata viam inveneruntis my own expression,” said Devon.
To Claire, it appeared no one at the table had studied Latin. The phrase,fate finds the waywould be interpreted as a threat. A threat from a slave stood intolerable.
In his ignorance, Sir Teakle puffed his chest out. “Is that a slur?”
Devon could be dragged out and whipped for insult to a gentleman. Even the governor would not allow any affront to a member of the peerage. Devon’s impetuousness put him on very dangerous ground. Claire spoke up, exposing herself as a blue-stocking. “It is Latin and means he is in complete servitude to you.”
Her recitation took the air out of Sir Teakle’s goading, his gaze flicked over Devon. And with even more power, they exchanged even smiles. The entertainment of the physician-slave ended and in unprecedented condescension everyone ignored his existence. Claire was still irked by Devon’s spurning of her womanhood. But the turn of events caused her to reflect. Was it pity she felt for Devon? No. Respect. He sat labeled a rebel, a brave mongrel who’d been cruelly thrust into a room of lordly aristocrats. She decided to be a rebel too.
Sir Teakle turned to Claire. “How wonderful to see you, madam. May I say you look beyond compare, as usual.”
Claire waved a dismissive hand. She could no longer tolerate Sir Teakle’s pompousness and a pleased smirk curved her mouth. “Save your Canterbury Tales for more untried ladies.”
“Claire, you will apologize to Sir Teakle at once,” demanded her uncle.
Governor Stark clapped his hands in glee. “Whatever for, Jarvis? Admire her cleverness.”
“Her remark is a gentle female flirtation,” Mary trilled and Claire gagged. “A challenge to encourage Sir Teakle’s attentions.”
Claire became more irritated when Sir Teakle leaned over, watching her with concealed pleasure. As she felt his eyes caressing the white flesh exposed by her gown, she wished he’d drop off the edge of the earth. If he kept up his perusal, she’d be forced to throw her soup into his face. She glanced down the table and saw a pair of green eyes flash upon her, fierce and possessive. As if she washisproperty.
