“But the matter concerns you.”
What could she say to this? He would tell her no matter what. She escaped to the far end of the counter, making a pretense of adjusting the scales.
“You should know I have it on good authority that Renick woos you not for your person but for your land dowry. Such would make him the largest plantation owner in Virginia, greater than any of our more worthy officials. ’Tis no secretthatis his chief ambition.” He gave a tight, hollow smile. “Be forewarned.”
The accusation dropped into the sultry afternoon like shards of ice.
Watseka, where are you?
Laurent was perusing the chains now, those fetters and foot cuffs used for Africans. Father usually put them out of sight at the back of the warehouse. Why were they out front?
Whenever Laurent moved, she moved too, as far as possible from his reach if not his gaze. Her hands straightened, dusted, rearranged goods as her mind whirled.
He could harm me, and none would be the wiser.
If only the supply ship had not gone farther upriver to unload more goods. If only Watseka would come. If only Father were not unwell. If only Xander...
Laurent’s harsh allegations slithered through her conscience. If she did wed Xander, her dowry would become his. Legally she would relinquish it all. But did it even matter? He was already the foremost tobacco lord in Virginia. Was it true he wished to trump the foremost officials with his landowning? Could that truly be the reason for his pursuit of her? Some ignoble motive? Though her whole being cried out against the lie, the slim shadow of doubt remained.
Hoofbeats broke through the tumult of her thoughts, followed by childish voices. Weak with relief, she traded the shadowed warehouse for stifling heat and found Xanderdismounting in back, Oceanus and Watseka greeting each other amid the mess of unpacked goods.
Xander looked askance at Helion Laurent’s horse, hobbled and ripping noisily at the marshy weeds nearer shore. His gaze swung to Selah, a dozen questions in its depths. She could not even stammer out a greeting, she felt so besmirched at having him find her with the very man he’d warned her about. She was hardly aware that Watseka approached with a small basket.
Thanking her, Selah shook her head. “I’m not the least hungry. Why don’t you and Oceanus have a picnic by the water? Find a shaded spot.”
They ran off happily, leaving her alone with Xander but for Laurent. He called to her from the store, and she squared her shoulders, overcoming her revulsion, or trying to.
“Trouble with the physic?” Xander asked her quietly. He stood before her, features sharp with concern.
She stared back at him, entreaty in her eyes. There were no words for the wariness that uncoiled in her at Laurent’s presence, the same sick dread that overcame her when she encountered a poisonous serpent.
Saying no more, Xander went ahead of her into the warehouse. She hung back, making sure the children were situated on the bank, if only to delay her entrance.
Laurent raised his voice, obviously displeased with Xander’s arrival. “Renick? I thought you’d be deep into tobacco by now. I’ve not known you to wait so long to harvest.”
Xander gave the customary merchant’s reply. “What is it you buy?”
The rattle of chains was the answer. Selah winced, returning to the ledgers while Laurent made a frightful noise coiling the chains atop the counter.
“I’ve need of a branding iron.”
Selah firmed her voice. “We have none.”
“A blacksmith is required, then, to make the brand.” He turned toward Xander, who stood, arms crossed, watching Laurent transact his business from a few feet away. “How about your smith’s services, Renick?”
“My smith’s not for hire. He’s never worked a brand, nor will he.”
“Still, a brand I must have. I shall seek the James Towne smith to make my mark. For now, these fetters will do.”
Selah wrote what was owed in the ledger, but her quill halted in midair at Laurent’s next remark.
“So, your half-heathen boy is back. He looks a great deal like your late wife. I see very little of you in him.”
Xander drew nearer. “What concern is that of yours?”
“’Tis a wonder you returned the child to Virginia.” After paying in silver coin, Laurent draped the chains over his shoulder. “One would think you wanted to be rid of him permanently.”
Selah’s soul went still. She stared at the figures she’d written down, the ink a black blur.
