Would he not look up? Allow her to see the cast of his features?
At that very instant he did. His dark eyes ricocheted from her to Watseka, who stared back at him unflinchingly. Truly,Mattachanna was engraved in every line and furrow of his small face. ’Twas her black hair that hung about his shoulders, her nose and jaw etched into his beloved features.
Oceanus weaved a bit as if his sea legs had yet to catch up with solid ground. With a word to him, his nurse stepped off the pier near several hogsheads to await the rest of their party. Xander made introductions as they all gathered in a circle.
“Oceanus fared well on the crossing, as you can see.” Xander’s hand rested on the boy’s shoulder as he stood beside him. “Nurse Lineboro accompanies him and may make her home in Virginia. My factor from London, Bazel McCaskey, is an unexpected but no less welcome guest.”
“We are Rose-n-Vale’s nearest neighbors.” Ustis shook hands with the man and made introductions of his own. “This is my daughter, Selah, and our charge from the Powhatan nation, Watseka.”
“An Indian child? How extraordinary!” McCaskey’s gaze passed from Watseka to Selah. “Mistress Hopewell, is it?”
She smiled in affirmation, warming to this swarthy Scot, whose open countenance bespoke a warmth and congeniality oft missing in fractious Virginia.
“We’ve long prayed for your safe arrival,” Ustis said. “Now we shall pray the New World treats you kindly. Your transport is waiting. We shan’t delay you any longer, though we hope to see you on the Sabbath.”
“Not only the Sabbath,” Xander announced, hat in hand. “Once our guests gain their land legs, Rose-n-Vale will host a gathering.”
“Sounds delightful,” Selah said, catching his eye.
Pulling free of Selah’s hand, Watseka crossed to Oceanus. He took her gift of a mussel shell with a slightly bewilderedsmile, turning it over in his hands before Watseka all but skipped back to Selah’s side.
“Thank you,” Oceanus said when prompted by Nurse Lineboro.
Xander gestured toward the waiting wagon where baggage was being loaded. “Not so fine as your Old World conveyances, but the journey isn’t far.”
“’Tis good to feel land beneath my feet. I’d rather walk beside the wagon.” The factor stared into the distance as if already envisioning Orinoco fields. Reaching into his pocket, he turned back toward Ustis. “In honor of Virginia’s hospitality, here is a gift from the mother country.”
“Honored, thank you.” Ustis accepted the brass tobacco tamper with a nod of his grizzled head. “A welcome addition to my collection.”
Looking slightly crestfallen, Watseka spoke a single word as they departed. “Pa-naw.”
’Twas enough to turn Xander around with a smile. “Farewell, Watseka, till we meet again.Pa-naw.”
Watching them depart, Selah felt cast adrift from the tall, hatted man with his back to her, a jumble of new people and events between them. Yet had she not just stood with him in the warehouse shadows several days before, weak-kneed over his wanting her to be his bride, the mistress of Rose-n-Vale? Such a forceful, passionate declaration now seemed no more substantial than river mist. Nor, understandably, had he paid her much attention today beyond the usual polite exchanges.
His last words returned to her like a cold tide, prickling her skin and leaving her shaken.
“I will not give you what you are yet unsure of, thus forming a bond between us that might well break.”
24
Overnight, Rose-n-Vale assumed the feel of a tavern, its chambers no longer suffused with a dusty, sunlit stillness. Now the house seemed small and a bit moody as Xander bumped into guests at every turn, the factor’s unexpected arrival adding another unsettling element to a burgeoning household.
“My, Nephew, our abode overfloweth.” His aunt’s brows rose in wonder when he appeared earlier than usual the next morn to gain a few minutes of undisturbed quiet.
As if sensing his mood, she served his cassina in silence before retreating to the summer kitchen to give instructions to Cook for the meals of the day. Alone in the dining room, he sat in his usual place, eyeing empty chairs that were no longer simply chairs but would soon hold complex strangers. Nurse Lineboro foremost.
Dismissing his uncle’s glowing letter about her, he pondered Oceanus instead. Though bearing his mother’s mark, the boy showed little of Mattachanna’s fire and free-spiritedness thus far. Had being reared in the shadow of an overbearing relative and an especially attentive nurse made him a bit guardedand withdrawn? Seasick at the start of the voyage, he’d then fallen ill with a chest ailment. His rattling cough concerned Xander. Mayhap once Oceanus regained his health he’d come into his own.
“Good morning, sir.”
Xander pulled his gaze from the diamond-paned windows to greet the nurse. She approached the table hesitantly, eyeing a porcelain pot on a tray, the fragrance of cassina potent.
“Your aunt tells me there are no servants’ quarters in this house.” Selecting a cup, she poured the brew, then cooled it in her saucer once she’d sat down. “Might I ask what it is I’m drinking?”
“A native beverage.”
She took a sip, steam obscuring her pale features if not her distaste. “I’m finding little about Virginia that resembles Britain, including sitting at the master’s table.”
