Nora returned to the sofa. “I suppose.”
“I’ll go search for him.”
The two women began babbling nonsense. About the snow, the journey, Eliza’s plans to stay here until the New Year.
Eliza hadn’t discussed her plans with him, but Scott’s Grove would be as good of a place as any to spend a week or two this winter. A welcome relief, really, from the doldrums of the farm. He and Isaac could begin reading the whale book again, and he could amuse himself with the other books in John’s library.
Downstairs, he asked a woman stirring the kitchen fire about Isaac, but she gave him a blank look which made him deem her either deaf or daft. The upstairs servants said they’d seen a new boy, but they didn’t know where he went.
Victor searched the bedchambers. John’s office.
“Isaac,” he called out into the small library, but still the boy didn’t answer. Had his father-in-law already sent Isaac out to the fields?
When he couldn’t find Isaac in the house, he found his coachman in the stables, grooming a horse. “Thomas, have you seen Isaac?”
The man kept brushing. “Yes, sir.”
Confound it. He should have asked Thomas hours ago. “Where is he?”
Thomas looked up, confusion in his eyes. “I took him and Master Alden to Alexandria yesterday.”
Victor kicked a stool. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did tell you.”
Victor clenched his fists. “You just told me about Alden.”
“I didn’t think you’d care about the slave.”
Victor took a step toward him. “Why did he go with Alden?”
Thomas shrugged. “Perhaps Master Alden needed a boy to help him at school.”
He didn’t care one whit what Alden needed. Isaac was his; no one else could claim him. “Does John Payne know?”
“I’m just the driver, sir. No one ever tells me what the master knows or doesn’t know.”
Victor pointed at the horse. “Get them ready.”
“They’re too tired for another journey.”
His eyes narrowed. “You ever felt the whip on your back, Thomas?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll whip you and your horses if you don’t have me on the way to Alexandria in the next hour.”
Turning, he stomped back toward the house, trailing snow behind him as he tramped across the wooden floor in the hall. When he marched into the drawing room, Nora excused herself.
Eliza leaned back on the sofa, sipping a glass of brandy. “Where’s your slave?”
He towered over her. “Did you tell Alden to take him to Cambridge?”
“I did not, but it’s a brilliant thought.”
“What if Alden decides to sell him?”
She took another sip. “Good riddance, for all of us. That boy’s not fit for any kind of decent work.”
