She nodded, needing little convincing. “Enough about me. What of you?”
“For now, I need to ride about the estate and assess the wind’s damage.”
“Take your weapon.” Though she hated to say it, she could not avoid the truth. “Watch your back.”
“Look for me at supper.” He kissed her, his ire of minutes before gone. “We shall have a peaceful eve, Lord willing. And we’ll continue praying for Oceanus’s safe return.”
Once Kentke was returned outside, the physic arrived and spent a thorough hour examining Watseka and talking with Selah.
“She’s a hardy little soul.” He shut his portmanteau at visit’s end. “I see no cause for bloodletting or any treatment save bathing in chamomile-infused water for her irritated skin. An extract of lemon balm should help her sleep more soundly. Be especially vigilant about her eating and drinking.”
Once Watseka ate a bowl of broth, Selah herself grew drowsy. The maids went about on tiptoe, shutting the door of Oceanus’s bedchamber as the afternoon wore on. Selah nodded off. They slept till supper, finally rousing when Xander came in.
“Ah, our Powhatan princess is good as new.” Taking her from Selah, he tossed her into the air and gained a fit of giggles before carrying her down to the dining room.
Seated on his knee at supper, Watseka ate from his plate, then moved to sit with Selah when Izella served apple tansy for dessert. This she ate two bowls of, though Selah fearedshe would be sick. Understandably, Watseka was ravenous in her recovery.
“We shall ask her no questions of her ordeal and torment her further,” Xander had said when they’d found her. Yet so many questions remained. Selah nearly grew dizzy from guesswork. After Nurse Lineboro and the factor had stolen her away, it seemed Laurent had foiled them by moving her to where she’d been found. Somehow the African knew where Watseka was. He might have seen Laurent move her or aided him somehow. But for the heinous scars upon his back and bony shoulders, Selah would still rather believe him a guardian angel.
“How much storm damage, Alexander?” Widow Brodie dabbed her lips with a napkin at meal’s end. “Precious little, I hope.”
“Mostly fencing down in the pasturelands. Felled trees that will make fine firewood. Nothing of lasting damage.” Xander took a drink of small beer. “Hopewell Hundred needs visiting next. Shay and I will see what begs repair.”
“I’ve a hankering to return,” Shay told him, “and collect a few of my belongings.”
Xander nodded. “We’ll go on the morrow and take a wagon. I have need of some empty barrels from the warehouse.”
“Take care.” Candace looked at them fondly. “Till this matter between McCaskey and Laurent is settled, I’d be very wary. And now Claibourne has come calling...”
The room stilled. Selah stroked Watseka’s silky braid, her mind on Claibourne’s challenge. As second, should he not address McCaskey instead since the factor had laid the blame at Laurent’s door to begin with? Yet McCaskey wasnot considered a gentleman, just a middling merchant, and only gentlemen dueled. She’d seen little of him since he’d been banished to the quarters and was now shadowed by a farm manager in Meihtawk’s absence.
“No sign of Nurse Lineboro, I suppose?” Widow Brodie still nursed her displeasure. “Surely she is at the heart of this misguided tryst with both men and should be punished. I would like to retrieve those candlesticks, besides.”
To his credit, Xander eyed her with amusement. “A loss of silver is far preferable to her duplicitous presence here, aye, Aunt?”
She gave a wry chuckle. “Well, framed such as that, I must agree.”
Watseka yawned and ended the matter. Easing the child onto her feet, Selah stood, hardly able to stifle her own yawning.
“’Tis my turn to spell you tonight, Selah.” Widow Brodie intervened, taking Watseka’s hand. “Go to bed, the both of you. My nephew looks worn as yesterday’s breeches.”
“I’ll not deny it.” Xander stood, eyes on Selah as she came toward him. “A peaceful good night to all, then.”
In the hall lay Ruby and Jett, their comforting presence an added safeguard to doors and windows shuttered and locked. Still, a whisper of alarm crept past Selah’s exhaustion.
With matters still so unresolved, what would the morrow hold?
45
Wagons ambled along the rutted road from Rose-n-Vale toward Hopewell Hundred as dawn cracked open the sleepy eastern sky. McCaskey and half a dozen indentures followed Xander in the lead. Shay sat beside his brother-in-law, looking pleased as a fox in a henhouse to be holding the reins. But for one matter.
“I’ve rarely seen you with a sidearm other than your pistols.”
“Pistols are wildly inaccurate.” Xander shifted on the seat, the rapier riding his hip safely in its scabbard. “Swords rarely miss.”
“You are taking no chances with Claibourne or Laurent, I’d wager.”
“I hope to have no need of any weapon. ’Tis precautionary,” Xander told him as they rolled to a stop beside the warehouse.
