Laurent all but spilled out the entrance, whether muddledby sleep or spirits Xander did not know. The answer was in his aggravated, slightly slurred voice.
“Who goes there? Renick, is that you, you rakefire? Trespassing in the dead of night?”
Xander held fast to Ruby’s lead. “Aye, and I’ll not leave till I have answers, even if I have to search every inch of your acreage.”
Laurent cursed and came nearer. “Is that your foul factor with you? Zounds! A pox on the both of you! I’ll have you hauled before all James Towne—”
“Step aside while I search your dwelling.” Xander wasted no more time. “As commander of this shire, ’tis my right.”
“You’ll take no such liberties—” Laurent lunged toward Xander, but McCaskey intervened with a swift shove, cutting him off in midsentence besides.
“Ye muckspout!” McCaskey held the light nearer Laurent. “’Twas ye I saw riding near the Hopewells’ the morn the Indian girl disappeared. What say ye to that?”
Laurent lunged again, but McCaskey dodged him with a low laugh. Leaving Ruby behind, Xander grabbed the factor’s light and gained the house behind Jett, passing through the door Laurent had left open. Here disorder reigned. Everywhere he looked were piles of goods, the four rooms with their connecting doors more a narrow maze that a heavyset man could not manage.
“Watseka, are you here?” he shouted in Powhatan.
He listened hard as Jett moved around the clutter, leading him upstairs to two chambers. The distaste Xander felt upon entering Laurent’s private quarters soured his stomach. The tousled bed. A stash of brandy and a silver brandy bowl. Medicines and bottles. But Watseka was not here, despiteJett’s earlier agitation, though she might well be buried beneath the mess.
Jett gave a low whine near an empty cupboard before leading him downstairs again. Had Watseka been brought here at some point?
Outside, McCaskey and Laurent were exchanging heated words if not blows. Ruby was between them, ready to take down Laurent if the need arose. Laurent, if memory served, disdained dogs.
“I shall report you to the authorities come morning, Renick!” The threat lent no backbone to his slurred words. “No man—not even the shire’s commander—has the right to storm another man’s home and property without a warrant or assent from the sheriff.”
“Do what you will. Till we find Watseka, we shan’t stop our search, with or without consent.”
“Watseka, is it? Your heathenish bent has no bounds. I’ve no doubt you are a Powhatan spy.”
“Stop yer blabbering.” McCaskey spat as Xander began to walk away. “Yer in need of a scold’s helm to tame yer blasted tongue, though I’m hoping it’s the gallows for ye after what ye’ve done.”
With a roar like a wounded bull, Laurent charged, ramming McCaskey square in his middle. Down the two went in an explosion of punching and grunting, setting the dogs to barking and the rest of the search party running.
At Xander’s bidding, two of his heaviest indentures intervened and separated the brawlers. Undaunted, the dogs continued nosing the ground between them till Jett began to sniff Laurent’s muddied breeches.
He took a step back, letting loose another curse whileflinging a final warning their way. “If I encounter you further on my land, I shall shoot on sight.”
Xander swung round and faced him. “Thus adding a charge of murder to your suspected offense of kidnapping, which caused not only the death of the colony’s cape merchant but inflicted a grievous injury to his daughter, my betrothed. And now,” he said with growing surety, “fire setting and the malicious destruction of property.”
“You can prove nothing!”
“I shall prove everything.”
With that, Xander walked away into the night. McCaskey and the search party followed, the chase far from done.
38
Who could sleep on such a night?
Selah pushed aside the bed linens at dawn, looking out Xander’s windows with their sweeping views. Smoke writhed from the damp ground in places, no longer a threat but a reminder of all that was lost. In the distance the farthest fields were shadowed in a gray haze along with the remains of ruined barns and outbuildings. Nearer the house it seemed a boundary line had been drawn, blackened grasses on one side, withered, seared grasses on the other.
Rose-n-Vale had been dealt a harsh blow. But the mansion was still standing, and she’d overheard Xander say burned fields reaped hidden benefits. Still, it all paled when compared to recovering Watseka. What had the night’s pursuit borne?
Dressing hastily, she went downstairs in yesterday’s soiled clothes to find her mother and Nurse Lineboro in the dining room with Widow Brodie. They ceased speaking when she entered, their expressions guarded.
“Has there been any word of Xander?” Selah asked, joining them at table.
“I doubt he’ll return without Watseka. Though he is needed here to superintend the damage done the plantation, the child is his chief concern.” Widow Brodie reached for a teapot and coffee urn. “To celebrate that these walls are still standing, I’ve made both Turkish coffee and Chinese tea, which your mother kindly gifted me, compliments of the Dutch East India Company.”
