Beyond the deck, the sun set along the edge of the Pacific, washing the windows with a romantic glow.
Jesse tucked the letter away, grabbed his phone, and made his way down to the road, crossing over to the warm sand, aiming for the shoreline.
He’d not touched his feet to sand in eight years. But if the past was in the past, anything he held against himself could be dropped at the water’s edge. He would let the waves baptize him and wash his guilt away.
But instead of going the distance, he dug his feet into the shifting sand, a dark sensation in his gut. And he knew. He’d never be free from the past.
No Hollywood success, no California gold, no posh place by the ocean could erase the truth. Just like Grandpa Hamilton, Jesse had to live with what he’d lost.
3
ESTHER
Ninety Six, South Carolina
June 1780
She’d crossed her last ocean. Surely Father would not ask her to sail the Atlantic again. If he did, she’d refuse him. She was of age now, having turned twenty-two this past birthday.
She’d done his bidding as well as Mother’s, and now she would choose for herself.
Upon Father’s request, she had traveled to London for her grand society debut and to be presented at court. Taking her place in society aided Father’s position with his employer, Lord Whatham, the Duke of Brogman.
Mother, of course, lived for society, so to have her daughter presented at court raised her esteem before the royals and aristocrats alike. Though heaven forbid anyone should inquire of Lady Olivia Longfellow why she lived four thousand miles from her husband and daughter.
Now back home on the safe and beautiful high ground of South Carolina and Slathersby Hill, Esther had no plans to ever leave again.
This was her domain. Her place. She’d grown up here. Acted as Father’s hostess for parties, visiting dignitaries, high-ranking British officers, and even Lord Whatham, on the rare occasion of his visit.
Esther peered out her bedroom window toward the road cuttingthrough the green hills and wondered if he’d come to see her today. She’d written three months ago of her return.
He’d not bothered to write her back. He wasn’t much for penning a line, her Hamilton Lightfoot.
But she must see him soon, or her heart would most assuredly burst.
“Miss Esther? Might I come in?”
She turned to the door. “Please.”
Sassy crept in, a smile on her beautiful, caramel face. “Your father is waiting breakfast for you.” She crossed the room. “Shall I open your window? This room is hotter than all blazes.” The free woman, who was more a member of the family than a servant, shoved the draperies wide open and raised the pane. The sweet scent of summer breezed into the room.
“Did Isaac bring in my boxes? I’ve correspondence from Lord Whatham for Father.”
“He did. Kitch has unpacked the tea already. I feels all is well in the world with the tea cupboards brimming again. Sir Michael is sipping a cup now.”
“I’m not sure he’d have let me in the house if I’d not brought a crate of Bohea. I paid a fine tax in Charles Town.”
“Well worth the sterling pounds.” Sassy moved around to her truck, raising the lid. “I see you brought home some pretty new dresses.”
“They’re too hot for South Carolina, but Mother insisted.” In the mirror she brushed her hair and tied it up with a ribbon. “H-has anyone come calling for me?”
Sassy turned from the armoire. “If’n you mean Mr. Hamilton, no. He came around weekly when you was first gone. Didn’t even knock on the door, just sat on the front steps staring toward the road. Poor boy was lovesick. But two years is a long time to keep up such pining.”
“Mr. Hamilton? Why would he have come calling? I was referring to Jessica Warren or Isobel Knight.” Esther picked up the booksshe’d acquired for the library. A new edition of the English dictionary and volume one ofThe Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire. “Hamilton Lightfoot.” She feigned a laugh. “Mercy, I’d forgotten all about him.”
“I’msureyou did.” Sassy’s wide, brown eyes reflected her hidden smile. “Which I say is just fine since he’s more than likely forgotten about you.”
Esther refused to display any emotion over Sassy’s pointed comment.
