“Tell those worthless twits to get inside. They’ve work to do, not spending their time cultivating savages.”
Juliet grabbed Mary’s hand, skirted around the two men, and hurried along the sheep’s stalls where the sheep piled on one another to escape.
Her cheeks burned from the cook’s rebuke especially in front of Joshua who seemed nice. Maybe he could suggest how she could escape and get back to England. To bring Baron Bearsted to justice.
Chapter Four
Orpha put out her best when business customers visited, but that night she exceeded her standard welcome for the handsome frontiersman. Under a chandelier lit with a myriad of beeswax candles, gleamed a fine cherry dining table set with Orpha’s polished silver, linen napkins and delicate rose china.
Juliet finished serving Orpha a plate of roast pheasant, roast beef, braised cabbage, carrots and potatoes. With Horace’s plate in hand, she looked up at Joshua and caught him studying her intently. His perusal scrambled her thoughts and caused her skin to go up in flames.
She dropped Horace’s plate on the table.
Orpha glanced at her sharply. “Cease your clumsiness, Juliet.” Orpha pouted and leaned over to Joshua. “You can’t get good help these days.”
The frontiersman ignored Orpha, and Juliet’s chest expanded with gratitude.
Orpha pulled her shawl around her. “Juliet, stir the fire, I feel a chill and you know how I hate to be cold.”
While stirring the embers, Juliet darted a glance at Joshua again. He was as elemental as the changing seasons, unrestrained power, with naught lagging or degenerated about him—no softness at all to his rock-solid and daunting frame, honed from living on the frontier.
“The great surprise was when the principal chief of the Onondagas, Rozinoghyata chose Thayendanegea over Gucinge to fill the most important office over the Six Nations,” said Joshua.
The discussion carried a surreal nature. So businesslike as if there had been no altercation between him and the master that afternoon. Horace had tried to punish her for throwing the candlestick by giving her more chores to perform. Juliet reminded him of Joshua’s aim. She smiled, thinking of the horror on her master’s face.
Horace thumped his fist on the table, using his innate sense of drama to call attention to himself. “Gucinge’s bravery is unquestioned, his leadership qualities are considerable, his experience exceptional and his sagacity is consistent. But…his flaw is his impetuousness.”
“I can understand Thayendanegea’s appointment. He has great knowledge of the whites, their ways, language and written word. The Indians who have aligned themselves with the King also required someone with more restraint.” Joshua sipped his wine.
Juliet fidgeted with the dishes on the sideboard, paying attention to how the frontiersman shifted from casual conversation to pointed statements.Too nonchalant.
Horace cut his beef, sticking a large piece in his mouth. He sucked at the juices and said, “I understand Colonel Butler has recruited and armed the Senecas and other Indians of the lower Great Lakes region and is assembling them at Fort Niagara to receive their presents and instructions.” He took a letter from his pocket and slid it across the table to Joshua. “This arrived for you a couple days ago.”
Juliet pressed her back to the wall, waiting to be called upon. As a servant, she was almost invisible except for those hawk-like blue orbs of the frontiersman watching, but not watching her.
She studied her tapestry, struck how every goal, motivation, conflict, every color, every figure, every feat and consequence, every part of earthly realism and the judgements it created, every bond made, every subtle moment of history and probability, every sword thrust and bush, every passion and birth and promise, every potential entity ever was intertwined into that infinite, expansive web.
She inhaled, feeling the smolders in the whorls of the weaver’s fingers, and then caught the frontiersman slanting his head where her attention had been gathered. He nodded. Heat rose to her cheeks.
Was he in agreement with her sentiments? No. Far from the sophistication of England, she found colonials smugly narrow, possessing an indifference to cultural and aesthetic values. To own was all they deemed necessary.
“Bribes the Rangers and Tory militia use to cultivate the Indians against the colonials,” said Joshua.
The frontiersman’s fingers curled around his fork.Anger?She straightened, weighing the information bandied at the table.
Horace threw back his head and snorted. “In addition, Thayendanegea had been taken to England to be inspired by royal munificence with assurances after certain British victory, the Empire would help see to all Indian tribes in North America subjugated to the Iroquois.”
“A tremendous carrot to dangle in front of the War Chief,” said Joshua.
Orpha waved her crystal goblet and Juliet refilled it with wine. No doubt, the trader was intelligent and had been educated. But his accent intrigued her. How he cultivated the colonial inflection. A bit of a drawl, sometimes a burr.
“Butler and his followers were the ones responsible for the attacks on Forts Fifty and Summermute along with several settlements in Pennsylvania, south of here,” said Joshua. “I should remind you, Horace, the Indians are on the move. No mercy will be allowed.”
The news of a potential Indian attack sent shivers down Juliet’s spine.
Nonplussed, Horace smoothed his velvet waistcoat. “You want us to bleat like sheep? We are Loyalists and protected by the King. Alliances have been made with the Indians swayed to suppress the rabble creating the insurrection.”
Juliet studied Joshua to see his reaction to Horace’s bravado. He turned his eyes on her, his expression neutral.Difficult to read him.
