There was an abortive movement of flagons toward mouths—stopped as the colonel lifted his flagon higher. “The die is cast. These inferior colonial traitors must submit, the criminal enterprise of their rebellion must be crushed. We cannot allow America to be ruled by the usurpers.”
He threw back the contents of his flagon, and then slammed the vessel on the table to be refilled by an attentive soldier who stood against the side and doubled as a servant. The others at the table joined him.
At the colonel’s nod, soldier-servants brought plates of food for the table. Succulent roast venison, crispy meat pies, baked beans with molasses, stuffed turkey, rounds of oatbread, even caviar taken from sturgeon of the Great Lake of Ontario.
“The gifts to the Indians are cultivating their favor,” said Joshua, leaning back in his chair—anything to feint a response from the colonel.
The colonel frowned as a bishop hearing a bawdy joke. “A mistaken philanthropy. The guns, knives, kettles, and food given them have created a never-ending demand for more. They have become lazy and do not hunt for their food or grow their corn. Like maggots they feast on their host.”
Joshua lifted his hands, palms up. “But is it not a useful way to encourage an ally?”
There was a silence broken by the snuffling of a horse and the sharp song of a grackle strutting on the sill, a long-tailed version of an English blackbird, insolent and unconcerned.
“Whatever is necessary.” The colonel’s hard blue eyes peered across the table, as if studying his prey.
Necessary?Burning down the homes of innocent families and murdering them?
Joshua cultivated a pose of well-bred indifference and pinned his gaze on the colonel. “May I compliment you on securing the northern border and continuing the commerce of trading. No doubt your brilliant action will be recommended to His Majesty’s favor,” said Joshua, grudgingly politic and disgusted.
The colonel’s conspiratorial grin seemed to spread over his body, and drawing in everyone to share the news. “Of course, greatness is an earned experience. For me, it appears to be consistent. I suppose it depends in part upon the myth-making creativity of humanity. The person who experiences greatness must have a feeling for the myth he is in. He must reflect what is thrust on him.”
Joshua caught the exaggerated roll of Juliet’s eyes before she pasted on a benign expression. “What are your reflections, dear cousin?”
All eyes turned upon her, and then to the colonel. No doubt, fired in her belly was the insult her cousin made to her upon arrival. Joshua’s appraisal of Juliet raised another notch. The colonel had unwittingly released a cougar and the wildcat was setting her sharp claws into his arrogance.
The colonel waved to his servant to fill his glass with more wine. “My reflections? I bask in the knowledge people do not aspire to become extraordinary. Admittedly, happenstance and burning desire has made me extraordinary.”
Juliet pressed her palm against her heart. “I remain overwhelmed, Cousin. To think fate has blessed you.”
“With certainty.” The colonel remained oblivious to her mockery.
She turned her attention to Sunderland. “Captain, how have you come to hold a military position in the Colonies?”
“I am the second son of Viscount Sunderland and serving His Majesty stretched before me. Of late, I have received word my older brother is quite ill and the doctors have said he will not make the summer.” He looked at the colonel. “I will be returning to England as soon as possible.”
Joshua tamped down a bark of laughter. So, he was to be a viscount. Joshua had gone to Oxford with the captain’s older brother. Sad to hear he was ill. The Sunderlands were a wealthy and fine family. As the wife of a viscount, Juliet’s status would increase. No wonder the colonel was pushing Juliet onto him. Faulkner himself would gain respectability by being a relative.
Joshua weighed the pros and cons. Sunderland was fair to look upon. He overlooked her tragic history in the Colonies and would protect her from any spurning of his class. Juliet marrying Sunderland?
A vein throbbed in Joshua’s neck. After seeing her bedecked in the alluring gown tonight, he decided he must encourage the relationship between Juliet and Sunderland. The frontier was no place for a woman of her stature. To make promises on his part would be selfish and too dangerous for her. She must be sent to live in England with all the refinements and good things life might afford her. Most importantly, she’d be protected,safe.
Joshua let the rum burn down his throat. Why was he not happy with the turn of events? He pictured her in fine silks and satins coming down the stairs at Belvior. His fantasy swung beneath the boughs of a great oak, on soft sweet grass to where he milked the essence of her feminine passion. More images emerged. Holding her naked in his arms and releasing a potent lovemaking this siren simmered with; her long hair loose and making a soft shawl over his shoulders, her breasts melting into him and a white leg flung over his thigh so that he did not know when his body ended and hers began.
She glanced at him, and she colored. Was it with the remembrance of what he did to her? He smiled. She straightened, quickly shifted her concentration to Sunderland.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. The gods were not inclined to let him be, leaving the red-haired witch to weave her enchantment.
No. Do not touch her again.
Juliet cleared her throat. “Captain Sunderland, have you read Locke or Spinoza?”
Like an overeager puppy, the captain was quite taken Juliet had singled him out. “I am acquainted with them, Lady Faulkner.”
“Have you given any thought to the old idea where absolute authority is given to the King and his ‘Divine Right’ is an illusory power and will continually be in direct conflict to where men should be governed by officials they have chosen?”
The colonel pounded his fist on the table. The dinnerware jumped. “Such talk is treasonous and will not be heard.”
Bestowing a demure expression on her cousin, she said, “I am only repeating the philosophers’ claims. As Locke and Spinoza have purported, the age-old concepts of monarchy and aristocracy are to crack. The riveting tide sweeping across Europe will not be stopped.”
