“And I shall make sure that is the case.”
With that, he let himself out the back into the sunlit lane with all its heated, fetid smells. The safety she always felt in his presence fled with him. Somehow, Laurent seemed to stand between them. Did Xander believe there was more to their pairing than the governor’s dictum?
She stared at his handkerchief, noting the lovely embroidery of his initials in indigo thread. His aunt’s handwork? Having something so personal heartened her, had her straightening her shoulders and retying her apron. She went back into the fray of the busy store, though her grieved heart followed after Xander on his way to their door.
17
Xander paused at the rear garden gate behind the Hopewells’ residence. The short walk from the store had helped clear his head, but in truth, he was more undone by Selah’s distress than the news her father lay ill. Removing his hat, he waved it to cool his damp hairline, breathing in the distillation of Selah herself. Climbing upward toward him was a fragrant hodgepodge of carefully tended herbs and flowers.
Though he was earthy and sun-blistered and couldn’t rid himself of a tobacco taint, Selah was the essence of all things blooming. On occasion a rose with thorns. Sometimes a bright-eyed daisy. Today a rare, fragile lily. This was as much her garden as her mother’s.
He pushed open the gate and let it swing shut behind him, hemming him in with the memory of the recent wedding reception. Every last detail was engraved in his conscience. Every exchanged word.
“Is thereno man that moves you, Selah Hopewell? I ask because my aunt asked me. And I had no answer.”
“Thereis such a man, but...”
“But you will make nomore mention of him than I my would-be bride.”
What a game of cat and mouse they played. Yet what if he misread her and she didfavor someone else? So far upriver and seldom in town as he was, she could be walking down the aisle and he’d never get wind of it till the vows were said. But at least his fears regarding Laurent were put down. He walked toward the house, wishing she were there and not overwrought and overworked at the store.
“Xander? Do come in!” Candace’s voice was hushed—in deference to her husband, no doubt—as he ducked beneath the door’s lintel. “You have come at a favorable time. Ustis is sitting up for the first time in a sennight, though the effort has quite worn him out.”
She ushered him into their bedchamber, Ustis seated and facing a window. Drawing the door closed, Candace went out. The darkened room was heavy with the smell of sickness. Xander longed to open a window in favor of a cleansing coastal breeze. A sickroom never failed to remind him of Mattachanna’s final hours. His uneasiness spiked as Ustis was seized by a coughing fit, sputtering out an unnecessary greeting when he could.
Xander took a chair, knowing Ustis was unable to endure much conversation. “I’m sorry to see you thus, my old friend.”
“Old, indeed!” Another spasm of coughing rattled Ustis’s ribs. “I’ve not been so low since I first set foot on Virginia soil.”
Tossing aside the usual pleasantries, Xander came right to the point. “’Tis plain to see that Shay is more needed here than with the Powhatans.”
Ustis drew himself up in his chair, face glistening from the heat of the day—or his malady? “On the contrary. I’ll not be held accountable”—another spate of coughing slowed him—“for the demise of my son’s dream. If he cannot go, I fear he will come of age regretting that his graybeard of a father denied him his heart’s desire. That, I cannot conscience.”
Xander schooled his surprise. “You are sure.”
“Never surer. Besides, Selah is quite adept at whatever life hands her. She does the work of two people.”
Aye, to my everlasting regret.
Passing a hand over his beard, Xander let go of any romantic notions. Now was clearly not the time to ask for Ustis’s blessing on their courtship. Mayhap the most pressing matter was to broach a move upriver. Yet even this brought a new complication if Emanuel Murray’s news was true and Laurent was moving upriver too.
“I hear your heart in this matter about Shay, but the offer begs considering before the exchange commences. You can always bow out beforehand.” Xander weighed the conflicting emotions crossing Ustis’s countenance. “I’m aware of your desire to move away from James Towne. I, for one, can vouch for better living upriver, where I am rarely ill. You have fair land, fresh water, a suitable house, and dependencies that lie vacant from your last tenant.”
“Hopewell Hundred, aye.”
“I’ve an empty warehouse with a suitable landing and dock that would serve well for a new enterprise. My indentures can bear the brunt of moving you and your household. What say you?”
Nodding, Ustis made no protest. “I say pray that I can get my boots back on and begin this next venture. I am sickto death of the foul humors of James Towne and its petty politics. Further west means we’re closer to Shay, aye?”
“Indeed.”
“Trade will be brisk there, as the outlying plantations need our James Towne goods. The store here shall remain open and a clerk appointed.” Face red from coughing, he soldiered on. “Though I’m reluctant to rob you of your indentures, mayhap the process will proceed speedily and in good form. I will inform Governor Harvey immediately.”
Xander’s hopes, which had been sinking fast as a ship’s anchor when he arrived, now rebounded. No more unnecessary trips to James Towne. No more waiting for supplies to come upriver. No more wondering what the Hopewells were doing. Could this be the answer to his prayers? Might this move play into his affections after all?
Without asking, he opened a window. “Have you considered alerting one of the country physics? There’s a competent man at Mount Malady.”
“I may well consult him once we are upriver.” Ustis wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “For now, let us be about the business of packing.”
