“Yourwellbeing?” He snorted. “If you do it again I’ll take you to court and charge you with running away. You’ll be whippedand branded on the cheek with the letterR. I’ll double your indenture time—or worse. No official in Virginia will believe the word of a bondswoman over her master.”
True enough. She’d read advertisements for runaways in theVirginia Gazette.Even if they fled cruel conditions, they were often caught and their master’s won. No matter that the charge was often a lie.
He reached out and took a piece of meat, downing it like a dog in two gulps. “No bolt nor lock. No sleeping elsewhere. Remember it or else.”
When he left the kitchen her unsteady legs gave way. She sat down hard on the table’s bench, staring at the bolt. Titus found her there, his expression alarmed as she was rarely idle.
“You all right?” he whispered. “Did Griffiths hurt you?”
“Nay.”Not yet.
Clearly addled, Titus reached for a broom and started sweeping. “I snuck out to see Tamsen’s grave and made sure my cross is still standing.”
She looked at him, still disbelieving his sister lay buried. “I meant to place some flowers there.”
“Griffiths would switch me good if he found me wasting time as he puts it.”
“You work harder than any lad I know.”
“The tavern’s full again and it’s only the forenoon. On account of the wind, I reckon.”
She looked out the nearest window where pewter clouds scudded across a darkening sky and promised a thunderstorm. Despite the protective presence of so many guests, she couldn’t rid herself of the dread of Griffiths’ threats because she was well convinced he was entirely capable of inflicting them.
He had timed his return carefully. Not too early to rouse a man muddled by drink. Not too late lest he find Griffiths irretrievably into cards and surrounded by bad company. Mid-afternoon, Bleu approached the crossroads to the tavern and found it overflowing if the folks on the grounds and porch were any indication.
Given he didn’t mean to stay long, it didn’t matter.
Clouds hung heavy and distant thunder mimicked a panther’s growl to the east. When he came into the tavern’s yard beneath its wind-rustled trees he expected Titus to run out and greet him, seeing to the horses, no doubt asking why there were two instead of just Windigo. When that didn’t happen, Bleu did the deed himself, wondering what he’d find when he entered the tavern as the stables were full.
Once past the crowded porch and inside the passageway, he removed his cocked hat in anticipation of Brielle. Confined to the kitchen, he guessed. Despite his rather mercenary mission, he couldn’t deny his swelling need to make sure she’d come to no harm in his absence. He knew men and Griffiths was among the worst of the breed. Crass, unpredictable, grasping. Capable of unspeakable things.
Men and women eyed him as they entered and exited the public rooms and went up and down the stairs. Something smelled burnt. He saw Titus serving first one table then the next, a harried look on his face. Had he no help? Bleu continued walking toward Griffiths’ office, surprised to find him there. A man—one of the hired guards he remembered—stood by the fireless hearth. The airless room was rife with ill feeling.
Bleu exchanged a hard, wordless look with the guard who went out.
Standing, Griffiths remained behind his desk. “What brings you back here, Galant?”
“A business matter.” Bleu moved into the room and shut the door.
“Be quick about it. The tavern is bursting and I’ve little time to waste.”
Bleu tossed the leather pouch he’d been carrying onto the cluttered desk. “I’ve come for your two indentures. Miss Farrow and Titus Owens.”
Surprise flashed across Griffiths’ sweaty face as his hand shot out to finger the offering.
“Spanish dollars,” Bleu told him. “Pieces of eight.”
Griffiths smirked. “The woman and boy are hardly worth that.”
“They’re worth a great deal more.”
“I can’t part with them.” He let go, the coins clinking. “I’ve no other help at present.”
“Tell your guards to make themselves useful.” Bleu’s gaze traveled to the cracked window and saw another hired gun near the stables. “It’s a fair deal and you need the money.”
Griffiths stiffened. “How would you know?”
“I’ve just come from Winchester where I confirmed that you are the late Griffiths’ heir despite my doubts. You’re a wanted man,monsieur. Wanted, in fact, across much of Virginia but somehow your gambling and thieving haven’t caught up with you.”
