Rick Hall Fiction

It was the day before the big event. This was the busiest Friday anyone at the plantation could remember. It seemed as though a million things had to be accomplished in a short amount of time. Fifty chickens, seven turkeys, seven hogs and one beef cow had to be slaughtered to provide meat for the next day’s guests.

Lady Osbourne had barely slept a wink over the past three days, and she knew that she would not sleep at all this night. Everything except the food was ready. Mary had finished the dresses on Monday, and she had spent the rest of the week organizing the event.

The ballroom at the plantation was one of the biggest in the Colony and would have more than enough room to accommodate the guests, but Lady Osbourne wanted more room. William’s library was located next to the ballroom. Over the last two weeks, she boxed up every book that was in the library, and she put them in the upstairs sewing room. Then she brought in four master carpenters and had them tear out the wall that separated the ballroom and the library. As of this morning, it was nearly impossible to tell that there had ever been another room in that spot. Even the aroma of varnish and paint had all but disappeared. This larger space pleased her a great deal.

This increased the size of the ballroom, but it infuriated William in the process because he took great pride in his library. With over two thousand volumes, he had one of the largest collections in the Colony and he loved showing off his books. In the past when he thought about this ball, showing off his library was one of the few things involved with this event that he was looking forward to doing. He fantasized about how envious the other men would be when they saw his collection. Now his wife had gone and taken away the one ray of sunshine he had entertained during this whole ordeal.

Lady Osbourne knew that her actions had grated her husband. How could she not know it, for he had not talked to her in nearly a week? During the entire process, she promised to build it back and to make it better than it had been in the past, but he didn’t believe her. He assumed she would keep things the way they were once the party was completed. It was true that she had entertained that idea, but she thought better of it. She could push her husband, but there was always a point that he would not allow her to cross. With the loss of the library, the noblewoman knew that she was close to that point at the present time. Therefore, she would not try to push her husband any further.

As the date of the party grew closer and closer, Lady Osbourne became more and more frantic about the whole thing. She didn’t eat or sleep. Several times over the past week, William would wake up in the middle of the night and catch her walking up and down the halls of the mansion. When asked what she was doing, she would murmur some non-sense about being afraid that the house would catch fire.

That was the final straw for her husband. He ordered her to bed and nearly turned her over his knee when she protested. Since that night, which had been about a week prior, William had the male servants to start a fire watch guard duty similar to those used in the military. That way he and his wife could both sleep, and she didn’t have to get up during the night and check to see if the building was ablaze.

Even though his plan was an excellent idea, it failed miserably. His wife would wait until he went to sleep and then she would get up and roam the house. Her mood went beyond paranoid and dread; it was close to sociopathic in her behavior. She couldn’t eat or sleep for worrying about the house catching on fire. The fact that every precaution imaginable had been taken did not reduce her fretting one bit, if anything, it only added to her sense of helplessness. It convinced her that the men doing the fire watch would be lax and thus let a fire start that burn out of control.

Her psychosis had become apparent to everyone as she became obsessed with every little detail. Nothing was good enough or clean enough for her. Things got so bad that the servants did everything they could to avoid her. She would attack and belittle the servants for perceived wrong doings, and she never had a good word to say about anyone.

Bessie was the one who was constantly the object of her wrath. At least eight times in the past week, William had come into the kitchen to find Bessie crying from the barrage she had just received from mistress. The servant, whose cooking was world class, was constantly belittled about her cooking. It was too hot or too cold, not sweet enough or too sweet, too moist or too dry. Nothing she prepared was good enough for Lady Osbourne who seemed to take pleasure in finding fault with everything Bessie cooked or baked.

One morning the cook was sitting on a bench in the kitchen when William and Anthony entered the room. She had her face buried in her hands and her body shook as she cried like a fox caught in a trap.

“Good heavens, Bessie what’s the matter?” asked Lord Osbourne.

Not realizing that the two men had entered the room, the woman was horrified that she had been caught crying. She looked up at the men and was shocked when she saw who it was. A blank look of embarrassment was etched on her face. “Lord Osbourne,” she muttered. “I didn’t hear you come in, sir.”

“That’s all right,” returned the Englishman. His voice was tender and sympathetic as he was trying to sound comforting and reassuring and to a small degree, he was successful. “What happened?” he asked although he was sure he already knew.

“Nothing,” returned Bessie as she stood up and tried to make an excuse to exit the room, but Lord Osbourne would not allow it.

“Come on now. You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s nothing Lord Osbourne.” She pretended to wave it off with one of her hands, but he wasn’t buying her act for an instant.

“Are you sure?” he asked. His voice echoed with doubt. “It was my wife, wasn’t it?” She said nothing. “Don’t deny it. I know it was she. She’s been a holy terror to live with this past week. I don’t know how we’ve all made it this far with her acting the way she’s acting.” Bessie tried to laugh at his joke but failed.

“You don’t have to say a word.” There was genuine concern in his voice. She’d been with him long enough to recognize that. They’d been together for so long she felt like she was part of the family. The pain etched on her face deeply troubled him. She was always a cheerful person, and try as he might, it was hard for him to ever remember her crying except at weddings and funerals.

“I burned some food and that has me upset,” she lied hoping that her words sounded convincing but that illusion was dispersed by what he said next.

“You’re not a very good liar.” He said it lightheartedly.

It was a feeble attempt to convey to her that he was not upset with her, but his wife. In a way, this did bring a small amount comfort to her, but it also brought some fear. Lady Osbourne had not been herself lately that much was true. Bessie was hoping that her vicious spell would pass, but she secretly feared that it wouldn’t.

It wasn’t just the cook that felt this way. All the servants and indentures felt like this. Three weeks ago, their mistress had been one of the sweetest, kindest people in the world, but she had changed over the last week. She had developed a vicious streak and she never had a kind word for anyone or any thing. Nothing was right and no one, not even her beloved Becky, could elicit a word of praise from her.

On several occasions over the past few days, Lady Osbourne she had been so vicious and sarcastic to her oldest daughter that Becky refused to speak with her. The Englishwoman accused her daughter of being an ungrateful, spoiled little brat, whereas Becky accused her mother of being an overbearing shrew.

It had been two days since the two had last spoken to each other. Lord Osbourne, much to his credit, had tried to patch things up between the two Osbourne girls, but he was only human and thus failed. Becky refused to talk to her mother unless Lady Osbourne issued an apology. Lady Osbourne stated that she would never apologize for doing everything she could to make her daughter a respectful young woman.

Therein lay William’s dilemma. Here he was a man who, more than anything, did not want the ball to take place, but who was acting as mediator between the two primary actors in this drama. Secretly hoping that the two would decide to cancel at the last minute, he also worked very hard to ensure everything went according to plan. Although he hated the idea of this party, he loved his daughter with all his heart. Therefore, he did everything humanly possible to ensure the ball’s success. Over the past three weeks, he tried to put away all of his selfish thoughts and concentrate only on the happiness of his wife and eldest daughter, but they were making it extremely difficult for him.

With that being said, he realized that in order to bring about the success of the next day’s events, he had allowed his love for his wife and daughter to overcome his judgment. His wife had become an overbearing tyrant and his daughter had become an ungrateful whiny little brat. Once this revelation hit him, Lord Osbourne vowed to himself that he would remedy that situation, and he would remedy it as soon as possible.

Walking over to where Bessie was standing, he wrapped his arms around her. He apologized to Bessie and promised her that things would get better by Sunday. His voice was so commanding and reassuring that Bessie and Anthony both believed him. Suddenly, there was a new presence in his voice that hadn’t been there for years. Bessie had not seen Lord Osbourne act in such a commanding way since he gave up his commission as a colonel in the British Army, and Anthony had never seen this side of the Englishman. The change in the Englishman’s demeanor was sudden and impressive.

“Bessie, I promise you that I’ll straighten this out as soon as possible!” Bessie smiled and shook her head in agreement. Lord Osbourne then let her exit the room.

As Bessie exited the room, Lord Osbourne looked at Anthony and asked, “Are you hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Good.” William walked to a counter on which sat a handful of plates covered with dishcloths. “Let’s see what Bessie has prepared,” he said as he started peeling away the towels that covered the food.

“Fried chicken,” spurted Anthony as the Englishman peeled back the towel from the second plate.

“I’ve never seen a man like fried chicken as much as you do.”

“I’ll admit it’s my favorite. I could eat it every day of the week. Give me a piece of chicken, a slab of bread and a glass of milk and I’ll be satisfied.”

The five platters contained fried chicken, beef and potatoes, squash, fresh bread and a berry cake. “It all looks so good,” piped William. “Bring us over a couple of plates, and we’ll eat some of this.” The Scotsman grabbed two of plates and two forks and set them on the counter next to where his master had laid the towels. He then turned and headed toward the door that led to the outside.

“Where are you going?” asked the nobleman.

“To the well to get some milk.”

“Shouldn’t you take a couple of tankards with you?”

“No, I don’t know how much I’m going to drink, and I want to avoid making several trips to the well to draw up the milk jug.”

“I see.” The Englishman shrugged in shoulders in thought. “That seems reasonable to me.”

Anthony exited the kitchen and walked over to the well. There were a couple of ropes tied off to the side of the rock formation. They were dangling down into the hole that had been dug in the ground. Each had a corked container tied at the end of it. These two containers were submerged deep into the water, which would keep them cool and thus prevent them from souring too soon.

Anthony pulled up the first container, uncorked it and put the mouth of the container to his nose and sniffed it. A scent of apple cider danced in his nose. “Wrong one,” he thought to himself as he corked the container and lowered it back into the well.

He then pulled up the second container and untied it. As he felt the coolness of the jug, his mind ached in anticipation of the first taste of the cool milk that it held. Slapping the cork back into the mouth of the milk jug, he began making his way to the kitchen.

“Did you get it?” asked Lord Osbourne, as the Scotsman reentered the kitchen.

“Yes. “And, by thunder, it’s colder than I expected. This is going to be wonderful!”

The nobleman smiled and began to cajole his friend. “I have never seen anybody who likes cold milk as much as you do.”

“Every man has a weakness. Mine just happens to be fried chicken and cold milk.”

“Pour us some and we’ll get started.” William’s grin became even bigger as he brought the two plates over to a small table that was sitting in the middle of the kitchen. He laid a plate on each end of the table. The two men pulled up chairs and began to eat.

Bessie had out done herself this time. Lunch was wonderful. Lord Osbourne made a mental to note to himself to thank her for the wonderful meal. It was his hope that those words would cheer her up some. Realizing that peace would not be restored until the ball was completed, he decided to be extra nice to every one on the plantation for the next couple of weeks. Lady Osbourne wife had been a holy terror to be around the last few days, and he was looking forward to that ending.

After lunch had been eaten, Lord Osbourne instructed Anthony to run along and to attend to a building project in which the two and others had been engaged. The Englishman had a couple of small items to attend to and that he would be along as soon as possible.

Once the Scotsman left the manor, William called one of the servants and told her to have his wife meet him in the kitchen. He instructed her that she was not to allow Lady Osbourne to brush her off, but was to insist that he needed to speak with her. Once the servant left the kitchen, he sat down and waited for his wife.

The kitchen was chosen simple because that was where he happened to be at the time. He was anxious to get this confrontation past him so he could concentrate on other things that needed to be done. Ten minutes had passed and his wife still had not shown so he waited ten more, but still his wife didn’t show. Anger began to boil inside him like a smelting plant as he realized his request was being ignored. After thirty minutes, he was unable to contain his fury, so he stood to leave the room. He hadn’t gone three paces when his wife entered the room.

Her face was reddened in anger and venom spewed from her mouth. “What do you want?” she shouted. Her voice shrilled with anger.

William was taken aback by her behavior. “Excuse me?” he muttered being too stunned to say anything else. This was not like the sweet woman he married. She had gone over the edge and he regretted not putting an earlier stop to this behavior. It took a couple of seconds before he managed to regain his composure and was about to say something when she fired off another shot at him.

“You heard me! I don’t have time for all this! Now get on with it! What do you want? What is so urgent that you can’t wait until I get a few minutes to talk?” William stood there and tried to mumble something, but he failed. “I thought so,” shouted Lady Osbourne. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve work to do!”

She turned to exit the room but hadn’t made it to the door when her husband called.

“No,” he shouted. “I’ll not allow this!” The anger in his voice stopped her dead in her tracks. “Listen,” he yelled. “You’ve been treating everyone around here like dirt. You’ve been acting like you are the Queen of Sheba, herself! You act as though every body else has but one job to do and that is to take care of your every whim!

“First of all, you are not the Queen of Sheba and secondly you had better start treating people with a little respect!”

“Respect?” she questioned. “You should talk about being disrespectful.” Her voice was not angry, rather calm and calculating. Something he said had hit a nerve and she was willing to listen, but she was also being very cautious.

Sensing this sudden change in her, William knew that he had hit on something of which she was already aware. As a result, he lowered his voice. His tone went from accusing to compromising. “Everybody,” he said calmly. “They’ve all said it.”

“Even Mary?” she asked obviously devastated by the news. Deep down within her heart, she knew what he was saying was true; she had become a tyrant. She had not meant to; she only wanted things to go perfectly.

How could she tell them how much she wanted this to come off without a hitch? She had been trying to prove herself to be the equal of the people back in London ever since William lost favor in court, and had been exiled to the Colony. Sure, he had been governor for a while and with the title came some prestige but he had been governor in name only. He had no real power. All he had was a fancy title because he had been sent to Virginia for the purpose of removing him from the king’s inner circle.

His governorship only lasted only a few months, and then a governor-general replaced him. They told him it was due to the war with the French, but he knew better. The court allowed him to retain his rank as a colonel in the Royal Army only because had been very successful as a military officer. When they were first banished from the king’s inner court, she thought that William’s exemplary military service would get them back in the king’s good graces. It didn’t. George II showed his gratitude not by inviting them back into the court, but by giving them several thousand acres of land in western Virginia. It was here that they had moved when Joseph was not much more than an infant.

William still held the titles of governor, colonel, barrister and judge and that impressed the locals, but it left her feeling both empty and betrayed. She was a Londoner and thus longed for the heady days at court. With the exception of her family, she loved few things more than being a part of the royal court. From the gossip and the intrigue to the fashion and parties, Lady Osbourne loved everything about the king’s court and she longed, if only for one day, to get that feeling back again.

In her mind, Becky’s party was her one last chance to get at least some of that luster back. Therefore, she was willing to do anything to see this succeed. It was not her intent to be cruel to the others, but if viciousness would achieve her goal, then she would become the queen of viciousness.

In her eyes, this was her road back to self-respect, and she was not going to allow anything, even up to and including fate itself to prevent her success. Death was preferable to failure. Long ago, she’d made her bargain with herself to have one more great function before she died, and now she was prepared to sacrifice anything including her sanity to get it.

William attempted to respond to his wife, but he couldn’t because he was stunned by what he saw. She stood there sobbing uncontrollably as her shoulders bobbed like a cork caught in a whitewater rapid. His shock turned to concern as he watched her. Never had he seen his wife act like this. Sure, he had seen her in pain before, but he had never seen such an open display of misery in his life. In the past, when she cried, tears would well up in her and would gingerly flow down her face. Even when her father died, her crying was silent, but here it was full-blown sobbing and he was taken aback by her display shear raw unintelligible emotion.

He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to end the pain, but he didn’t know how to do that. This situation was so out of character for his wife; he felt completely helpless and that angered him. “Straighten up,” he shouted, not because he wanted to be cruel, but because he didn’t know what else to do. This was a unique situation and he was unprepared as how to handle it.

Surprise was the only emotion registered on her face and William was relieved for a second because she had stopped crying. As she stared in his eyes for several long seconds, he was determined not to show any emotion. He didn’t want his wife to see his concern for her for fear that might get her started again. The two stood there locked in an eternal gaze that broken when he blinked. In that, split-second Lady Osbourne’s face became disfigured and she lost her composure. Slowly, she began to sob.

“Stop that,” William ordered. When that failed, he repeated himself several times. The first time he said it his voice was commanding, but it became more compassionate each time he spoke. Finally, he realized that something deep inside his wife’s heart had been broken. Unable to do anything else, he walked over to her and began to gently and warmly hug his wife.

Her head fell on his left shoulder and she began to cry like a baby wailing for its mother. “William, Oh William, Oh William,” she cried as he gently held her. “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” She put her arms around her husband and began to wail even harder.

Her sobs became so violent that William wondered if madness had set in on her. “What am I going to do?” he thought to himself. “I’m not sure what I can do.” He pulled her tighter and closer to him as he silently prayed that God would give him the wisdom to know what to do. Of one thing, he was sure, his wife was teetering on the brink of madness, and he was not going to let her fall over into the abyss.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Whatever it is we’ll get through it together.” His hope was that his words were both forceful and encouraging, but he feared they were neither.

“William. William. William. It’s falling apart, and I can’t put it back together.”

“What’s falling apart?”

“You. Me. Us. Everything!”

“You’re not making sense,” he said and he pulled her even tighter. It was as if he thought he could cure all her ailments if he could just hold on to her tight enough. His grip around her was so tight that he felt her back pop as he squeezed her. “What is falling apart?”

“Everything,” she cried.

William held to her for nearly an hour. His arms were shaking with fatigue, but still he held on to her. Some of the servants had heard the goings on, but were too frightened to go near them. Therefore, they stood off in the various rooms. Several of the women cried and two offered up prayers to God in the hope that He would cure their mistress.

Over an hour later, Lady Osbourne suddenly stopped crying, stood erect and asked her husband to let go of her. Stunned by the sudden change of events, he released her nearly causing her to stumbled as the support he had been render fell away from her.

With great effort to keep from falling, the noblewoman straightened up her garments, walked to the nearest mirror, wiped the tears from her face and turned to leave without saying another word to her husband leaving him both stunned and confused by her actions.

The instant he realized that his arms were shaking uncontrollably from the fatigue he felt from holding his wife as long as he had, William attempted to shake them in order to get the blood circulating back into his arms. Still, that was the least of his worries at the present time because he still didn’t know what set his wife off like that. Her sudden recovery only added to his confusion. Unsure of what else to do, the nobleman made a mental note to himself. When he got the chance, he was going to get to the bottom of this sudden change of events because it frightened him more than his wife’s unusual outburst of emotions.

That evening when they were alone, he wrapped his arms around his wife, pulled her into him the way a loving mother comforts a sick child and held her tightly as he ran his right hand up and down her back lovingly caressing her as it went.

She was both delighted and shocked by her husband’s display of his gentler side, but that didn’t prevent her from letting him continue. It was unusual for William to give such a display of affection, and given her state of mind, she decided that she would relish his attention. Although she was a bit shocked by his actions, she nonetheless loved what he was doing.

“I love you,” she whispered in her husband’s left ear.

As he gently slid away from her, she noticed his face. Tears were gingerly running down his cheeks. There eyes met for a split-second and he smiled in a vain to cover his embarrassment. When that failed, he pulled her in closer to him and whispered, “And, I you.”

His words sent an electrical charge up her spine, which was soon followed by chills running down her back. She had heard her husband say that he loved her a million times, but he had never said it like this. The instant she heard his response she became aware that for the first time he her life she knew that her husband truly loved her.

That realization created a plethora of emotions within her. She wanted to cry with joy, scream with delight and make mad passionate love to her husband all at the same time. For the first time in many years, she felt unfiltered raw desire for her husband. It wasn’t just love; she felt raw animal carnal desire for her husband and she had to have him.

Without saying another word, she took both of her hands, clasped her husband’s head and pulled him closer to her. William, who was thinking she was going to tell him what caused the morning’s outburst, followed her lead. The Englishman felt both shock and delight when instead of whispering her secret in his ear; his wife pulled his head close and kissed him passionately.

This kiss was no ordinary kiss. Instead of being a dignified gentle peck, this kiss was long, wet and probing. Although William thoroughly enjoyed the kiss, it frightened him as well. His wife had not kissed him like that since before Joseph was born. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it, mind you, he did, but he was frightened that his wife was not herself and this display only added to his anxiety.

“Mind yourself,” he whispered in a low tone because he didn’t want the servants to hear and because he felt as though that was the only tone to use. As he spoke, he slid out of her grasp sue to a sense of fright and in an attempt to regain his composure. The kiss had knocked his socks off, and he needed a breather in order to get his mind functioning correctly.

“William,” she said. “I have never loved you more than I love you at this moment.” Rocked by her words, William blushed. “I know you truly love me,” she said as she pulled him closer and began to kiss him all over his face. Not sure, of what else to do, William tried to fight it, but part of him was enjoying the attention his wife was lavishing upon him. She hadn’t been this way in years and it felt oh so wonderful to him.

As she was kissing him, Lady Osbourne began to think to herself. “This is the man I knew I married. I know he acts all stuffy and proper, but this is the man that stole my heart.” Suddenly, all those years of doubt, were washed away by the joy she experienced with the realized this truth. Her body quivered and nearly buckled out from under her.

Why she ever doubted that William loved her, she could not say. If there was ever one thing of which she was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was convinced that her husband loved her and her alone. She didn’t know why or how she knew this; she only knew that it was true. Perhaps providence was at play with this, she neither knew nor cared, and she simply basked in that undeniable truth of her husband’s love for her.

William smiled and said, “Of course I love you! I always have and always will. You’re my wife, how could I ever love another?”

“Oh shut up,” she commanded in a playful tone. He started to say something, but was prevented from doing this by a kiss from his wife. The kiss started slowly but grew in strength and passion. Within a minute, they were kissing like unchaperoned hormone driven teenagers.

After a series of kisses, she stopped and smiled devilishly at him. “That big old bed has been awfully lonely of late,” she said. Her tone was seductive.

“Yes it does,” he returned.

That night was spent in blissful reunion as the two discovered exactly how much they still loved each other. By the time it was over, William had removed any doubts that his wife may have lost some of her mental faculties. If anything, she seemed more in tune with them than ever before.

The next morning Lady Osbourne was glowing with a combination of anticipation of the coming events and remembrance of the previous night’s escapades. Never had she remembered her husband being so amorous. Although her mind was telling her that she should be tired due to the amount of sleep she had gotten the night before, she felt alive and invigorated. Her energy level was so high she felt like a volcano of delight about ready to explode. Even though she had a million things to do, she knew that she would accomplish them all and still have time to spend with her husband.

It took her no time at all to get ready as she moved around like a whirlwind. At first, she thought about waking her husband, but thought better of it. After last night, the man needed his sleep. She smiled and nearly giggled aloud as she thought about the previous night. It had truly been a wonderful experience.

Within minutes, she was cleaned, dressed, and ready to start her day. Exiting the room quietly so as not to disturb William, the first thing she noticed when she entered the hall room was the aroma of baked bread. The sweet pungent scent of dough rising as the result of yeast expanding was nearly over powering. Immediately, her mouth began to water as the thought of biting in to wonderful morsel piping hot bread swam in her head. Oh, how she loved the tasted of Bessie’s home made bread. Add to this the fact that she had worked up a veracious appetite from her time with William, and she was as hungry as a ravenous wolf that had gone days without food.

Composing herself as best she could, Lady Osbourne tried to walk to the kitchen in a dignified manner, but she caught herself on at least four occasions running down the stairs and through the hall. Each time she realized she was running, she would force herself to slow down to a gingerly walk. Without fail, each time she slowed herself to a walking pace, she would lose her train of thought and begin running again. After several attempts at forcing herself to walk, she gave up and sprinted to the kitchen.

Prior to entering the kitchen, she stopped at the door, fixed herself, and then took a deep breath as she entered the room. Unsure what else to do, she smiled because her mind could not conceive of anything else at that moment. She was both terrified and deliriously happy at the same time.

No one seemed to notice as she entered the room and she was thankful for that. She half expected trumpets to be play. The staff was too busy preparing for the day’s events. The kitchen was a flurry of activity. It seemed as though every servant the family had was busy doing something in and around the kitchen. Lady Osbourne was pleasantly surprised that her kitchen could accommodate so many people.

She stood there at the entrance way admiring the pace of activity going on all around her. The house servants like a bunch of ants trying to gather food from a fallen cookie. “My, but they are busy,” she thought.

“Good morning, mistress,” said one of the servants.

“Good morning,” returned Lady Osbourne. “Where is Bessie?”

“Over there,” said the servant as she pointed toward a table around which several women had gathered.

“Thank you,” returned Lady Osbourne as she made her way over to the table where the women were standing. The servant nodded in response with a tilt of her head.

The lady of the manor took two steps and she exclaimed, “Bessie!”

The ladies gathered around the table parted to allow their mistress to get a glimpse of Bessie who standing near the table kneading a bowl of flour.

“There you are,” giggled Lady Osbourne. “I have been looking for you.”

“I’ve been right here,” returned the servant. Although her mistress was smiling, Bessie wasn’t sure, if she was back to her old self or if she had completely lost her mind.

“Bessie, I need a favor.”

“Anything you want. Say it and I’ll do my best to get it for you.” Bessie was somewhat relieved, but she still was very cautious about the whole situation.

“Good, I want you gather up all the house servants and have them meet me here. I would like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am” replied Bessie as she looked at the young lady on her right and said, “You go gather the men folk up and have them come here as soon as they can.” Then she looked at a woman on her left and said, “You go gather up the women and have them come here.” The two acknowledged the woman and were off in a flash.

“What is that wonderful aroma?” asked Lady Osbourne as she was barely able contain her delight. Even though she knew that it was bread, she thought hearing Bessie saying what it was would add to the delight of it all. Of Course, she was right.

“You know what it is,” piped the servant. She was surprised that her mistress would ask such a question.

“Humor me.”’

“If you must know, it is bread, cookies, cakes and pies.” Bessie stood there thinking about what the Englishwoman said and how she had said it, and then she smiled.

Lady Osbourne’s grin became even bigger, and she ran over to the heavyset woman, opened wide her arms and hugged the cook. As the two embraced, the noblewoman applied such force that she nearly squeezed the life out of Bessie.

“She’s back,” thought Bessie as she returned her mistress’s embrace. They stood there entwined for several minutes before they let go of the hug. They did this for a split-second and then they hugged each other a second time.

“Gracious,” piped Bessie. “You’re going to get dough all over your dress.” Bessie was embarrassed by it but she also enjoyed the attention Lady Osbourne was giving her. During one of her embarrassing moments, she asked her mistress, “Would you like something to eat?”

The lady of the manor let go of the hug and said, “Yes, I would. What do you have?”

“Bread or cookies?” The servant began to laugh. “It’ll take just a few minutes to fix you something to eat. Do you want me to get started?’

The noblewoman thought about it for several seconds. She took a deep breath and said, “No, just bring me a loaf of bread, some apple butter, and some honey. I’ll eat that.”

“Would you like some tea to go with that?”

“Do we have any cold milk?”

“I’ll have one of the boys draw you up some milk from the well. It should be good and cold.”

“That’d be wonderful,” returned the mistress of the plantation. She was smiling from ear to ear. “Don’t you think this is just a wonderful day to be alive?”

“Have you been hitting Lord Osbourne’s rum?” asked the servant who had failed to get the meaning of the aristocrat’s question. Bessie was beginning to think that the Englishwoman had fallen off the edge that teeters between sanity and madness. Still, she had not seen her mistress behave like this for several weeks, and she was not about to spoil it.

“No, I have a wonderful feeling about today.”

Within seconds, the Englishwoman was wolfing down large slabs of honey-covered bread and washing it down wish giant swallows of cool milk. She was so ravenous that she didn’t care if she ate in a ladylike manner. By the time she had finished, the house servants had all gathered at the kitchen.

Once the servants had lined up, Lady Osbourne spent the next twenty minutes apologizing to each one of them personally. She would look each one in the eye and state that she was deeply sorry for her behavior over the past few days. The last person she apologized to was Bessie. Once she was finished, the heavyset woman hugged her and stated that it was good to have the old mistress back.

Guests began arriving at five-thirty even though the party didn’t officially begin until six. Lady Osbourne had anticipated this and had several tables set under tents. The tables contained cookies, punch, rum, breads, cheeses, fruit and pot of tea placed on each one. There was enough food to take the edge off the guests’ appetites, but not enough to ruin their dinners. The noblewoman had learned this trick during her days at court.

The Englishwoman and Mary had thought of everything. They had gone over the list so many times that they could quote the agenda and the contingencies by heart. They had planned for everything except a blizzard. Lady Osbourne was honestly convinced she had left no stone unturned in the process, and she hadn’t.

After several of the guest arrived, the noblewoman decided to go down and mingle among them. The truth was that she was dying to see how things were going thus far. As she stood to go down to meet the early arrivals, Lady Osbourne began to tremble both in anticipation of the night’s events and in dread of what may go wrong. Becky wanted to come as well, but her mother forbade it explaining to Rebecca that she was not to be seen until after the party had begun, that way she could make a spectacular entrance.

Part of Becky agreed with her mother because she did want to make a royal entrance, but another part of her, the immature sixteen year-old parts, wanted to run out and see what was taking place out on the grass. As much as she wanted to be a real lady and wait, she couldn’t put off the thought of mingling with the crowd.

Visions of what would take place later on that evening raged through Becky’s mind. Would there be handsome young men at the party? Would some dashing young army lieutenant sweep her off her feet? Would a famous orator or even poet compose a sonnet to her beauty? These and other thoughts kept her entertained the whole day.

The sixteen year old wanted desperately to be named belle of the ball tonight, but her mother wanted it for her even more and she knew this. She had been practicing both alone and with her mother and Mary for weeks. The two women taught her how to feign embarrassment and how to give a stare that let people know she was in command. She had been drilled so many times on the fine points of being a lady that she had begun to have nightmares about the whole situation.

Now the day had finally arrived, and Becky was too nervous and excited to think about anything else but the big event. She had gotten up before daylight this morning and the second her feet hit the floor, she walked over to where her dresses were and put on her favorite one. Watching herself in the mirror, she sashayed around her bedroom pretending to meet dignitaries and other important people. She practiced feigning shyness and pretended to laugh at some silly joke told by an imaginary alderman. “You’re too funny,” she said to herself as she rocked back and forth as though she had just heard the most hilarious of tales.

After several passes in front of hit, she walked over to the mirror and stared at herself. Using the mirror as a guide, she looked over every inch of dress. Although her hair was disheveled and she had on no jewelry, she knew she was beautiful and smiled in delight, as she looked herself over. “This is how a princess must feel,” she thought to herself. Secretly, she hoped that everyday would be as wonderful as she knew this one was going to be.

After looking over every inch of her gown, she came to the one spot of her dress that made her a bit nervous and that was the chest. Becky was a modest girl and that was what bothered her about the dresses. They were cut low at the chest. Every dress Becky had ever worn had collars that went all the way up to the neck but these did not. Their collars stopped several inches before they got to the neck, and the only thing keeping them from falling off were straps that went over each shoulder. Although, Becky had seen women, perfectly respectable women, wear dresses like this before, she never expected to wear one herself.

In her mind, she felt scandalous in the outfit. Each time she looked at the top of her dress she noticed that parts of her bosom were exposed. Part of her was both frightened and embarrassed by the display of her chest, but part of her, the naughty part, seemed to enjoy the thought of young men staring at her. Therein was Becky’s dilemma. She wanted to be seen as a good girl, but she also was hoping that several suitors would seek her. The dresses would accomplish the later goal, but to her mind, only at the expense of appearing naughty and that bothered her a great deal.

She was standing in front of the mirror staring at her chest when her mother entered the room without knocking. Becky was unaware of her mother’s entrance until Lady Osbourne asked, “What are you staring at?” Red faced from embarrassment, Becky turned as shouted, “What are you doing here?”

Her mother laughed and said, “They’re yours and they’re beautiful.” It was an attempt at being humorous, but failed. Instead of laughing, Becky’s face flushed in horror as she realized that her mother had caught her staring at her own chest.

“Mother!” Becky’s voice echoed her pain as she turned her back on her mother and began to sob like a brokenhearted child.

“What?” asked her mother surprised by Becky’s actions.

“How could you?”

“They’re only breasts,” returned her mother. “Every woman that has ever been born has a set. Get used to that idea.” Becky turned and her face wore a horrified expression. “It’s true,” said her mother.

“Look, it’s one of the advantages we have over men. I don’t know why, but men seem to like them. A woman who knows how to flaunt her chest can get a man to do anything she wants.”

“Mother,” shouted Becky. The look on her face went from horror to shock and then to revulsion.

“It’s true. You’ll notice it tonight. See if I’m not right on this subject. If you will take note of the men you talk to tonight, they will never look you in the eye. Instead, they will look down at your chest.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, indeed not. Watch what I say. It’s the truth. Men are funny that way. They’ll talk to your chest for hours. They don’t even know what you are saying. I’ll prove it, or else I should say I’ll allow you to prove it to yourself.”

“How?”

“It’s simple. When you notice that a man is staring at your chest, say something completely weird or even nonsensical and then laugh. Every time you do this, the man with whom you are talking will laugh with you. The reason they do that is because they hear you laugh and they think by laughing they’ll get on your good side and that by laughing they may gain an advantage over your other suitors.”

“Why are men like that?”

“I don’t know, but it sure makes it easier for us to get what we want out of them.”

“And that would be?”

“Everything!” Her mother laughed. Within seconds, Becky was joining her. “You have a lovely chest. Use it for your advantage. Once you have used it, you’ll be changed forever. You’ll never look on men the same way again. You’ll lose a little respect for them, but most importantly, you’ll have gained a weapon that is mightier that even the most powerful cannon. You’ll have the promise of desire, and that, my child, is a formidable ally.

“Now get undressed. We’ve got to get started. We have a million things to do before most of the important guests begin arriving.”

Preparation for the ball began early the day after Mary arrived. The house stayed a constant source of activity and stress up to the day of the ball. It seemed to Lady Osbourne that they were constantly running behind schedule. Mary and Rebecca would assure her that things would turn out fine, but that did nothing to assuage her fears.

Once when things seemed to be going slowly, Lady Osbourne pulled Mary off to the side and talked with her. Her tone was stern but not demanding. The noblewoman was seeking to be comforted by the Irish lass more than she wanted anything else. The weight of the event was starting to take its toll on the mistress, and it was beginning to show. She was curt with everybody but the Irish maiden who seemed to be the Englishwoman’s only source of strength during the last few weeks. It was obvious that she needed Mary more than Mary needed her.

After pulling the young woman off to the side, she asked her, “How are things going?” The woman’s voice was broken and nervous for she needed to hear someone say that it was going to be all right, but she also wanted to avoid appearing weak and nervous.

Mary noticed the older woman’s nervousness and understood that her words, no matter how pleasant or uplifting they might be, would not provide encouragement to Lady Osbourne because the Englishwoman was expecting a disaster to take place. As a result, Mary began to become concerned about the woman’s health. This was especially true in matters pertaining to the mind. She was beginning to believe that the aristocrat was so nervous about the whole situation that she might accidentally create a self-fulfilling prophecy as the result of her nervousness and stress. As the date grew near, Mary began to become concerned about her boss’s current state of mind.

“They are going on a head of schedule,” the young woman assured the mistress. “The only thing that can slow us down will be the loss of material or some other disaster. We’ll have those dresses finished a couple days early.”

That was exactly what the noblewoman wanted to hear, but she still had doubts. She hated waiting to the last minute to do anything, and was determined that this party was not going to be slapped together at the last minute. This event had been in the planning stage for nearly seventeen years. Nothing was going to go wrong with it. Of that, the aristocrat was convinced.

When she was carrying Rebecca, William used to laugh and ask her how she could begin planning an “Introductory Ball” for her daughter before the child was born. “What if it’s another son?” he asked as he tried to understand her obsession with this event.

The English woman had said form the time she announced her second pregnancy that it was going to be a girl. When others told her that there was no way for her to know that, she would laugh and state that they would find out the second the child was born. She maintained from the beginning of the pregnancy that she was having a daughter. No one believed her until Becky was born. After Becky’s birth, Lady Osbourne never said a word about why she knew her second child was going to be a daughter. Even though she was questioned about it repeatedly, she refused to say why. Her only comment was that deep in her soul, she knew the second child was going to be a daughter and that she never doubted that, not even once.

The hardest thing for Lady Osbourne was the organizing of the daily events. It seemed that she never had enough people to do all the work she had planned for each day. Mary was wonderful and so were many of her own seamstresses, but the pace seemed to go slower than she expected. It was her goal to have all the clothing finished in two weeks and then spend the last week preparing the house.

The first Saturday that she was there Mary got up earlier than usual and designed a plan that would accomplish all that Lady Osbourne hoped to accomplish and still allow them two days to spare. She had been up hours when Lady Osbourne called her to breakfast. Unaware of how much time had passed, she was still in her nightclothes when the aristocratic woman knocked on her door. The young woman hesitated, but eventually got up from her desk to open the door. By then, it was too late because her temporary mistress had already entered the room.

“Gracious child, aren’t you awake?” Lady Osbourne’s question was both rhetorical and scolding and the same time.

“Sorry, Milady. I have been working on these plans and I lost track of time. Please forgive me.”

“Plans,” asked an excited Lady Osbourne. She had heard nothing past that word. “What plans?”

Mary looked at her. The woman’s face was anxious, curious, nervous and excited at the same time. “They’re on the desk.” Without saying a word, Lady Osbourne ran over to the desk and picked up a piece of parchment. Hold them up in front of her; the Englishwoman looked at them for several minutes. Ever now and then, she would admit a hummed or groaned. Whether the groans were from horror or delight, the young lady was not able to gauge from the older woman’s tones.

After looking over the plans for about ten minutes, the Lady Osbourne turned to Mary and said, “I like them.” They both smiled and soon began to laugh. “Will we be able to do all this in twenty days?”

“If we get help from some of the men, I believe we can accomplish all this and still have a day or two to spare.”

“I hope you’re right. This is a daunting task.”

“Yes, but we can do it.”

Lady Osbourne smiled and then hugged her seamstress. “I believe we can,” she said as she reached out and pulled the Mary to her. She squeezed the petite girl with a giant hug. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”

From that moment on, Lady Osbourne began to look at Mary differently. She now completely accepted this young Irish woman as an equal. This petite and beautiful young woman had accomplished what no one had done before. She taught the Englishwoman that slaves and servants were people that had a dignity about them and were worthy of respect. It would take sometime for it to completely set into her mind, but eventually both Lady and Lord Osbourne would grow to see their servants, slaves and indentured servants as people rather than chattels.

“We still have to do the tasks,” squeaked Mary. “We have much to do.”

Lady Osbourne let go of her embrace. She gently pushed Mary from her and stared straight into the young woman’s eyes. “You’re right,” she said. “Now freshen up and come down to breakfast. We’ll discuss your plans in detail over the meal.

“Now hurry along and get ready. We have a million things to do.” With that, she shooed the maiden along with her left hand. She tried to roll the document up with her right hand but she was too excited to accomplish this feat. After several unsuccessful attempts, she finally gave up trying to roll up the paper and carried it face up as she exited the door.

Lady Osbourne proceeded down to the dining room and took her usual place at the table. William had already eaten and had gone off to attend to the plantation. While she was waiting on the young woman, the Englishwoman laid the plans that had been proposed out in front of her and studied them for several minutes. She looked at them from every angle and tried to see both the strengths and weaknesses in each section.

“This may actually work,” she said to herself after going over the document for the fourth time. A smile raced across her face as she began to entertain the idea of having the maiden work for her. As she thought about it, the mistress decided that this young woman was an asset she would like to have on a daily basis. She knew that were she to ask William about purchasing the rest of Mary’s contract, he would never allow that, because he would assume the only reason she wanted the girl around was to goad him.

At that instant, she realized that she had over played her hand with her husband and she cursed herself for reveling in the misery she had brought on him over the last few days. This would make it harder for her to convince him of her genuine need for the maiden. Still, she had to figure out a way to convince him of the girl’s worth. Mary was a tremendous talent in many things, and she wanted to make use of that talent.

While looking over the plans for a fifth time, she began to plot in her mind how she might go about convincing William that they needed the girl. She would have to be subtle and it had to appear to be William’s idea, or he would never go for it. Were she to propose such a deed, he would deny her request and then forbid her to even talk about it. No, she had to figure out a way to force him to make the first move. Once that was accomplished, the rest would be easy. Not knowing what else to do, she began to silently pray for wisdom.

As she was sitting there in the kitchen, her thoughts were disrupted when one of the servants brought a tray of food in and set it down in front of her.

“Hungry, Ma’am?” asked the servant.

“What?” asked the lady of the manor as she realized she was being addressed.

“I was axting, if’n you’s hungry?” repeated the heavy woman.

“Yes, I am.” The aristocrat smiled at the woman. The servant smiled back. Lady Osbourne was actually smiling at thought of getting Mary, but the servant thought it was due to the food that she had delivered.

“Them biscuits is extry good,” said the servant. “I made’em up myse’f.”

“I’ll bet they are.”

“You can count on it.” The maid smiled and started to leave but was stopped by a question from her mistress just as she neared the door.

“Bessie, have you seen the girls this morning?”

“I seed Miss Becky early this morning. She’s been up for hours. She’s done ate and’s waitin’ on y’all to get started. It shore is a sight to see how she’s blossomed the past few years.” The heavyset house servant swelled up with pride as she thought about how lovely the young woman had become.

“It sure is,” returned Lady Osbourne. About that time, Mary entered the dining room.

“Speaking of pretty things,” said Bessie as she looked towards Mary. “I’ll just go rustle up some more food,” she said as she was heading out the door that separated the kitchen and the dining room.

The Englishwoman looked up from the plans and smiled. She motioned to a chair on her left and said, “Please join me.” Mary nodded in agreement, made her way over to the chair, and sat down.

“I love what you’ve drawn up here,” piped an excited Lady Osbourne. “You’ve really put in some effort. I believe you’ve thought of everything.”

“Thank you, Milady. Are you sure? I feel as though I may have left something out.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know why, milady. It is more of a feeling than a fact. I can’t explain it.”

“Don’t even try.” Lady Osbourne waved her hand in front of her face in the hopes of waving off this conversation. “My mother used to get feelings like that. She was always right, and I learned to trust those witchy feelings when she got them.”

“Thank you, milady. I’ve been going over the detail in my mind, but still I haven’t come up with the answer. I hope it hits me soon. If it comes, it usually comes from out of no where.”

“That’s exactly the way it was with my mother! She’d be sitting in the parlor reading and she’d snap her finger and jump up and run to write down her ideas.”

“Really?”

“Honestly,” returned Lady Osbourne. She waited as if to let her words sink in and then she finished her thoughts. “Yes. The first time I saw it happening I thought she had gone mad. She jumped up and ran to Father’s desk in the parlor. She began rummaging through the drawers. ‘Where is it? Where is it,’ she would shout. I became frightened. All of us children did.

“Father happened to enter the parlor as she was running about to and fro. I must admit the sight of him was comforting to me. I jumped up and ran over to him. I began to cry as I ran. By the time I got to him, I was sobbing like a baby.

“’Gracious, my child, what’s wrong?’ asked Father. My actions must have frightened my brothers and sisters, because they also ran to father. They were crying by the time they reached us.”

“’Mother has gone mad,’ shouted my brother Thomas. ‘What did you say,’ asked Father. She’s gone mad I repeated. ‘She’s probably upset and only ranting,’ returned Father.

“’Theresa,’ shouted Father. ‘Would you calm down? You’re frightening the children.’ Mother stopped what she was doing and looked over at us. ‘Look at them,’ said Father. ‘You’ve frightened them half out of their minds. Now cease what you’re doing and calm yourself.’ Father was always the proper one.

“Mother looked at him for several seconds. She wanted to say something but she didn’t. She went back to what she was doing. Father looked down at us and said, ‘your mother’s not mad. She has just thought of something and is trying to get it on paper before she forgets it.’

“’How do you know?’ asked Thomas.

“’I just do,’ returned Father.

“’Here it is,’ shouted Mother as she held up the ink bottle. She began to write notes on a piece of parchment. She did this for several minutes. With each passing minute, our fears began to subside. After several minutes, she quit writing, held up the parchment, and said, ‘I’ve got it all on paper. It’s brilliant.

“’I hope so,’ returned Father. ‘You have scared the children out of their wits. Now apologize to them.

“Mother did, but instant she finished she exited the room and then ran to the master bedroom in order to finish up what she had started. She did this so she could get the idea written down while it was still fresh in her mind.”

“Sounds as though your house was quiet an exciting place to grow up, Milady,” said Mary. She was enjoying the story and was urging Lady Osbourne to continue with it. The Englishwoman was more than willing to oblige her request. They spent nearly an hour talking about their various childhood experiences.

Lady Osbourne was more convinced than ever that she had to purchase Mary’s contract. The young woman was becoming more of a friend than a servant. The noblewoman wanted a friend with whom she could relate more than she wanted anything else. She had been praying for that for years. Sitting beside her, she had found such a person in the petite woman from Ireland of all places. Mary was smart, intelligent, and pleasant and she had a knack for knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

The work began in earnest right after breakfast. The young seamstress was like a whirlwind when she got started. She was running around in a million directions, but she always seemed to know exactly what she was doing. She was brilliant with giving instructions and could plan in her head events that were several stages away from where she was currently working. Her thoughts were clear, concise and focused.

By the end of the first day, several of the suits that the servants would be wearing were complete. Mary’s plan was to get the servants clothing completed first and then move on any decorations that had to be finished. After that, she would do the tailoring for the men. Lastly, she would make ten dresses for the three Osbourne ladies. Becky and her mother would each have two dresses made, but Sarah would only have one. To ensure that nothing went wrong, Lady Osbourne wanted two copies of each dress made. That way there would always be a spare were something to happen to the original.

By the end of the first week, the servants’ outfits were finished, the cloth decorations were complete, and most of the men’s suites had been measured, cut and were ready to be sewn together. Things were moving a head of schedule. In order to show her appreciation for the work that had been done, the Englishwoman gave all of her servants that afternoon off so that they may have some time to rest.

Lady Osbourne arranged for Anthony to be off that Saturday afternoon as well. She had Bessie fry some chicken and prepare all the fixings so that she and William could take the children on a picnic. She also invited Mary and Anthony being convinced that if she could get them alone long enough, the Highlander would declare his love for the Irish woman. Of course, she was right, but she didn’t know how to achieve that goal. She assumed that if she got the romance ball rolling, the young couple would take up the slack.

During the past week, the two women had talked numerous times. They chatted about everything from sewing to cooking, and from religion to fashion. They shared a love of reading, fashion and religion even though they had different beliefs. These two had numerous hours of conversations about these subjects, and the Englishwoman appreciated those exchanges.

Lady Osbourne noticed that as much as she liked the other conversations, Mary’s favorite subject was always Anthony. She would quiz the Englishwoman and the servants about the Highlander. There were times when she’d question Thomas about his cousin. She asked so many questions about the young Scotsman that even Thomas noticed that she was smitten with him.

Mrs. Osbourne was convinced that the picnic would be just the thing to bring these two together. This created in her a since of excitement nearly equal to that which she felt about Becky’s “Coming Out Ball.” The past week had been so action packed that she was wound up for two reasons. The first was a selfish one. If Anthony declared his love for Mary, then she could convince William to purchase her contract. This would bring the Irish girl into the house and that would enhance their status in the Colony.

The second reason was to goad William but that was losing its luster. Her husband had been watching the young couple and he admitted that it was obvious that they were in love. He also admitted that each one was so thickheaded that he or she would never admit to being in love. As bad as he hated to own up to it, he deeply appreciated his wife’s scheming on this matter because having Mary near made Anthony even more productive.

Lady Osbourne got her husband to go along with her plans by reasoning with him. She explained to him that the Scotsman had plans to start his own plantation. On this matter, William agreed with her and he assumed that the Highlander would be successful in that venture. William desperately wanted to hang on to him as long as he could and that is how she was able to get him involved in the conspiracy.

Lady Osbourne convinced her husband that he could get an extra year of work from his foreman once his contract was completed. She also convinced him that were he to purchase the maiden’s contract, the Highlander would never leave without her. Therefore, he, William could offer Anthony a job for wages until Mary’s contract was completed.

The Osbourne’s would then use that extra time to convince the young man that his place was with them. Thomas was happy living at the manor and did not want to leave. Although she liked Thomas and owed him a great deal of gratitude, she wanted Anthony and Mary to stay. The Scotsman was an able foreman and administrator, and the Irish girl was a genius with thread and needle.

Lady Osbourne began scheming with her husband the day she completed her plans. Once her plans completed, she dismissed herself from the room and went outside to sit under a shade tree. Stopping one of the male servants, she sent him to fetch her husband. Instructing the servant to tell her husband where she was and that she urgently wanted to speak with him. About five minutes later, the Englishman came walking up the path that joined the house to the fields.

“Is something wrong?” he asked even though he was out of breath from the walk. His pace had been quick, and he was not as young as he once had been, therefore, it took him several seconds to catch his breath once he arrived.

“Everything is wonderful or at least has the potential to be wonderful,” she said as she tried to keep from laughing aloud due to the sheer delight of it all. She clasped her hands and pulled them into her. Her excitement would have been obvious to even the most casual observer.

William noticed her excitement the second he arrived. This both amused and frightened him. It amused him, because he loved to see his wife when she was energized about something. She had the actions of a small child opening a birthday gift. It frightened him because his wife only got this animated over one of her schemes, which usually involved him.

“Then, why did you send for me?” he asked. His voice was cautiously optimistic. He had to admit that seeing his wife like this did pique his curiosity, but it also made him nervous. “What are you up to this time?”

“If I could grant you one wish what would it be?” she asked.

He took a long hard look at her. Her face was consumed by a smile so overpowering that he noticed nothing else about her visage. The grin was a combination of “all knowing devilishness” and total bliss.

“I know that look,” he half spoke. “What are you up to?”

“Up to?” she asked. “William what are you saying?”

“I am not saying anything. I know that look. You are up to something, and you want to involve me in it with you. Don’t try to hide it. I have seen it too many times before.” He tried to portray a harsh tone, but failed because he was dying to know what his wife was up to, and he was determined to find out even if it took all day.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she piped. Just as her husband could read her, she could read him as well. She knew that this harsh talk was merely an act. He was itching to hear what she had to say, but that he would never openly admit it. Part of her wanted to drag out the suspense, but the part of her that was still a child would not allow that. “What would you say if I told you I had a plan to keep Anthony on another year after his contract was up?”

“I would say that I am interested and that you should go on with your tale.”

“I was thinking that if we could get Anthony and Mary alone, then Anthony would declare his love for Mary, and she’d declare hers for him. Once that were to happen I’m sure the two will want to get married.”

“Suppose you are right, then what?” He wasn’t sure where she was heading with this, but he definitely was intrigued by it.

“If they decide to get married, then he’s not going to go anywhere until her contract is completed. What kind of husband would he be were he to do otherwise? Are you following this?”

“Even if they do get married, he can always find a job and in a few months purchase the remainder of her contract. Once he purchases her contract, we’re back at to where we are at this time.”

“What if he couldn’t purchase her contract?” she questioned. He knew she was baiting him, but he couldn’t resist. This conversation had gotten intriguing, and he wanted to see how it concluded.

William smiled. “All right, I’ll bite. How are you going to keep him from purchasing the contract? Anthony has a great reputation in this area of the colony and most plantation owners would kill to have him as an overseer, so just how are you going to keep him here? Banks will sell him the contract for the right amount of money. His wife is a greedy ambitious woman.”

“Yes, she’s an extremely greedy woman, but she won’t be able to sell a contract she doesn’t have.”

“What?” asked William. His voice was loud, but it was due to surprise and not from anger. “Why won’t they have the contract?”

“Simple. You’re going to purchase it.”

Boom! The reality of what his wife was saying hit him like a ton of bricks. He staggered for a split second as the enormity of it all hit him. His wife’s plan was brilliant or boarding on genius. Of course, he thought. “That’s it.” He looked at his wife and said, “You’re a bona fide genius!”

“I have my moments,” she returned. With that, she smiled because she knew that for the first time in their marriage her husband knew beyond a doubt the sheer intellect she possessed. The longer she thought the wider her grin became. She looked up at him and noticed that his face beamed with admiration for her. This was one of those rare times in which he looked upon her as an equal, and she wanted to bask in the glory of it all.

She thought about saying something but decided that now was not the appropriate time so she sat their smiling and silently praising herself. Words would destroy the moment, and she wanted to bask in this moment as long as she could. The look on his face alone was worth the wait.

“Will he sell?” asked William several minutes later. His question destroying the moment she was so deliciously enjoying. The second he spoke, she was a bit saddened. Moments like that came along only a few times in one’s lifetime, and even though she would always have that memory of that look on his face, she did want to enjoy it a little longer.

“For the right price, you know he will. Mr. Banks and his wife are both greedy and for the right price, they’d sell their own souls, or at least she would.”

“Of course, you’re right,” supposed William. His voice cracked with excitement. “I’ll go to the court house one day this week and pull the records and see how much he paid for her contract. Once I find out how much time she has left on her contract, then I’ll make him a reasonable offer.”

“What if he won’t sell? What if he wants more money? What if he tries to milk you for all he can get?”

William knitted his brows. “I’m sure he will. He’ll charge you war prices if you let him, but he’ll still sell. He’s too greedy not to sell. He’s also dishonest, in my opinion. He has over charged us on everything we have ever purchased from him. An honest business would put him out of business in a few months.”

“William, you should never accuse a person of being dishonest. What if someone were to hear you? You’d create a scandal.”

“I’ll not retract the truth! Besides, there is no one around but you and me. No, I believe the man is a scoundrel.”

“You mustn’t express that opinion in the open.”

“Why not?”

“Were word of such a charge ever to get back to Mr. Banks, he would never sell us her contract.”

“You’re right.” William’s face became very sullen and words began to proceed out of his mouth very cautiously. “Of course, you’re right. Blast my mouth! I let my lips move before mind brain went into action. I definitely don’t want to antagonize the dressmaker. Mrs. Banks is the real head of that house and she is a very vindictive monster. She would hold a grudge from now until doomsday. I hear that she can be a spiteful woman when she takes a notion to be that way.”

“She must take it in her head to be spiteful quite a bit,” piped Lady Osbourne. “At the present time, she seems to have a running feud with several people at…”

“That she does,” injected Lord Osbourne as he cut his wife off in mid-sentence.

“She sure does. Therefore, we don’t want to instigate even unwittingly an argument with her or her family. Once she considers you an enemy, she keeps her grudge for a lifetime.”

“She’s the real power in the family and she’s a cruel one.”

“She sure is. Do you remember the time when she and Hester Flatterly had that running feud?” Lady Osbourne shook her head in a sympathetic gesture.

“I’d forgotten about the Flatterly’s. How long has it been since they left this area of the Colony?”

“About five or six years,” returned Lady Osbourne. “It may have been longer. It was before you started on the bridge over the creek. That has been finished for three years, and it took about a year to complete it once you started ordering materials. I’d say they have been gone at least four or five years.”

“Weren’t they forced to leave because of some scandal?”

“You mean you don’t remember?” The surprised tone in her voice was obvious.

“I remember there was a huge uproar that caused them to leave, but I can’t remember what it was about.”

“Surely you must remember how the rumor that Hester was a drunk and a wife of questionable fidelity nearly destroyed her family. She was driven half-mad with grief. Surely you remember that?”

“I remember there was a scandal, but I don’t remember the details. Would you mind refreshing my memory, and then explain to me how this relates to the Banks family?”

“It was rumored that Mrs. Banks was the author of a rumor that nearly destroyed the Flatterlys. At that time, there was a rumor going around that Hester Flatterly was a heavy drinker of rum, and that she was involved in an adulterous affair with an unmarried man.”

“I remember now.” He snapped his fingers in recognition. “The man turned out to be her younger brother.”

“Half-brother,” piped Lady Osbourne. “Her father died before she was born, and her mother remarried a couple of years later. They man in question was the only son her mother and stepfather had. They had three other girls, but only that one son. I think his name was…”

“Timothy,” injected Lord Osbourne.

“That’s right,” returned Lady Osbourne. “Tim was his name. Some of the pressure was off once everybody knew that Timothy was her brother, but she could never shake the rumor that she was a drunk. That type of rumor can’t be shaken all that easily.”

“I remember that. Didn’t some say she took the fits at times?”

“I’ve heard that, but can’t say for sure. That does seem to be reasonable. Hester was not the drinking type. I have to believe that it was something else and most likely it was a medical condition of some sorts.”

“Once again, what’s this got to do with the Banks family?” asked Lord Osbourne for the second time.

“It was rumored that Mrs. Banks was the author of the rumor about Hester Flatterly. She was angry with Hester and started the rumor to punish her. She nearly destroyed the Flatterly’s in the process.”

“I see your point,” said Lord Osbourne. “Apparently we do not want to cross either one of them. I’ll keep that in mind and be more cautious when I’m around them.”

“That’s probably a wise move. I had to invite them to Becky’s ball. I had planned on only being polite to them, but now I am considering making over them. I’ll do everything I can to get on her good side. I’ll have her so buttered up by the time the dancing starts that she’ll slip out of the grip of anybody who dances with her.”

They both laughed at her statement but the laughter was filled with tension, because both of them knew that one misstep or even a small miscalculation would bring heavy retribution from the dressmakers. They were a stern and bitter family. She’s even more so than he is. Lady and Lord Osbourne had only invited them out of a sense of social politeness and never because they wanted them there. Now it appeared that the invitation might have been a Godsend.

“We have to handle this very delicately,” said Lady Osbourne. “One slight misstep and our goose is cooked. If they even think we’re trying to manipulate them into selling Mary’s contract, then they’ll raise the price way too high.”

“I have the utmost confidence in you,” returned William. I have never seen you fail at an endeavor when you set your mind to a task. You’ll do it.”

“I hope so. This situation is different. In the past, I have dealt with mostly honest and reasonable people, but Mr. and Mrs. Banks are different. They are, um, for lack of a better term, mean. Their logic is not like ours. I get the impression that they are always looking for a way to get over on the next person. I’m not sure how to say this but it seems to me that they are always trying to find dirt on other people so they can use it to their advantage. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Of course, I do. You’re stating the obvious. They live their lives so far in the gutter that they can’t imagine any other way to live.”

“Exactly!” Lady Osbourne clapped her hands in recognition of what her husband had just said. “That’s it. William, you have hit the nail square on the head. They are so far from being decent, that the whole idea of decency is foreign to them.

“That has to be a miserable life. Never being able to trust anybody and constantly looking for a way to tear them down in some warped attempt of making yourself look better. It gives me the creeps just thinking about it. I almost find it hard to believe that there truly are people like that in the world.

“I guess I am a truly fortunate woman.” She was going to say more, but her husband interrupted her.

“What do you mean by that?” asked William cautiously. He thought he knew where this was going, but he wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to be baited by his wife.

“Just that,” returned Lady Osbourne. “I am a truly fortunate woman.”

“I won’t argue with you on that,” said William. “Still, I am curious as to why you would say it. Not that I mind, but I’m curious.”

“Oh William.” She began to laugh. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”

“No,” returned an embarrassed William. In truth, he wasn’t. He was merely curious. His wife hadn’t spoke like this for years and he honestly wanted to see where she was heading with it.

“Even if you weren’t, I’ll give you one.” She got up and walked over to her husband. She put her arms around him and pulled him close. She squeezed him with a huge hug for a couple of minutes. When she let go, he noticed that she had tears in her eyes.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. He now went from curious too concerned. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“No, silly. These are good tears. I’m truly happy with how my life has turned out thus far.”

“Then why the tears?”

“They’re tears of joy and not pain. I just realized what a wonderful life you and I have made together.” Her tears began to flow with even more force than they had before, and she pulled her husband close to her and hugged him once again. “Thank you,” she whispered lovingly in his ear.

This truly surprised him. He was nearly over come by her display of love and affection. At first, he was caught up in the moment and tears began to well up in his eyes but, then, he realized that he must seem unmanly at that moment and that embarrassed him. As much as he was enjoying this moment, and he truly was enraptured in the moment, he broke the hug and said, “This is unseemly. We must stop it before we’re seen by some one.”

“Not on you life,” returned his wife as she resumed her hug. Realizing that he had lost this argument, William stood there and despite protesting to the contrary, both he and his wife knew that he was deeply enjoying the attention.

It was a beautiful Thursday morning when Mary arrived at the estate. A coach pulled up and dropped her off in front of the mansion. One of the servants had seen the coach approaching in the distance so she called another of the servants, and sent her looking for Lady Osbourne while she went looking for Lord Osbourne.

When he was told that the carriage was approaching, Lord Osbourne knew what it meant to his plans. He had been in a fairly good mood up until he was told that the carriage was arriving. At that instant, his mood changed quickly. His face reddened, and he was no longer jolly. As a result, he snapped at one of his workers. There was no evil intent in his mood, but he understood that the inevitable had arrived. His precious Becky was growing up and he was going to lose her forever. That thought ripped through his heart, and the frustration resulting from that gash was what changed his mood so dramatically.

“Tell my wife I’ll be there when I can,” he snapped at the servant who had just informed him of the approaching carriage. He had not meant to be so rude, and he would apologize for it later, but the pain had been too great for him to bear. Therefore, he wanted to make someone else feel as bad as he did. It worked.

“Yes sir,” returned the female servant. Her voice was timid and barely above a whisper. She was visibly frightened as she stood there as if anticipating another statement from Lord Osbourne. When it didn’t come, she stayed there wondering what to do. Lord Osbourne soon corrected that.

“What are you waiting for?” he snapped. This time his voice was even harsher than it had earlier been. “Get a move on! We haven’t got all day!” With that, he waved the servant off with his left hand. “Get on with it.”

The heavyset woman turned and began to run towards the house. She got about twenty feet before she turned and sheepishly asked, “Lord Osbourne, what should I tell Lady Osbourne?” She was shaking in anticipation because she didn’t know what had gotten into him, but she did know he was in a foul mood. Her left eye twitched as she realized that she was caught in an unwinnable situation. He was going to be angry with her for asking him to repeat himself, but he would be even angrier if she didn’t deliver the correct message. Therefore, she did all she could do; she arched her shoulders and waited for the outburst to come, and it did.

“I said to tell my wife that I would be there when I got there!” His voice could be heard all over the field due to the fact that he had intentionally screamed in the vain hope that his wife would hear it.

“Yes,” replied the hesitant the servant. “Yes sir.” Her voice cracked with pain. She had seen Lord Osbourne in bad moods before, but he had never acted like this. The motherly part of her personality wanted to check on him thinking he might be sick or have the fever or something like that. This was totally out of character for him, and that frightened her all the more.

She almost walked back to him to see how he was feeling. Luckily, her good sense took over so she turned back around and began running towards the house. Not wanting to disobey her master, she ran harder than she had ever run before. Whatever had gotten into him, she wanted no part of it. This message was going to get delivered regardless of the outcome.

As she ran, she prayed that the message would not offend Lady Osbourne. The entire estate was aware that Lady Osbourne and Lord Osbourne had been arguing over the coming party for months. Lady Osbourne was excited about it, and so was Becky, but the nobleman looked upon it with dread. Everyone knew that and therefore, no one brought the subject up in the presence of either of those two. It was just too risky. No one wanted to risk the pain of getting his or her head bitten off.

Lady Osbourne was standing at the top of the steps looking in the distance at the approaching carriage when the servant arrived. The heavyset was breathing heavily when she arrived and try as she might to tell her mistress that her husband wasn’t coming, she couldn’t catch her breath long enough to do it. Therefore, the servant stood there panting and tried to talk, but she couldn’t complete a sentence due to her wheezing.

“Gracious Bessie,” said Lady Osbourne. “Are you all right?” The heavyset housemaid shook her head and tried to talk during intermissions in the panting but failed miserably. Therefore, she stood there holding on to the support pole trying desperately to complete a full sentence.
“Where’s William?” asked Lady Osbourne as she began to grow concerned over the entire situation. “Has anything happened to him?” The servant had enough wits about her to shake her head no. “Is he coming?” Her voice was soft and deliberate as she began to understand what was taking place. The servant shook her head to indicate that he wasn’t. “I see,” stated Lady Osbourne as her face began to redden from anger. “Did he snap at you?” The servant looked horrified by the question, but she didn’t answer. There was no need to, for the Englishwoman already knew the answer to that question.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Her voice was filled with genuine concern for Bessie. Bessie’s smile told Lady Osbourne that she both understood and appreciated the gesture, which had just been extended. “He’ll make this up to you. I promise.”

Bessie was so over come with emotion that she began to cry. Within the past five minutes, she had gone from anticipation to fear to worry to relief. The entire ordeal had nearly drained her emotionally. Seeing both the pain and relief in Bessie’s eyes, Lady Osbourne walked over to servant and embraced her. She put her arms around Bessie and began to pat her on the back. Her pat was gentle, loving and it reassured the housemaid that everything was going to turn out just fine.

“There, there,” she said to Bessie. “William will apologize to you for that. He had no right to be cruel to you. He doesn’t mean to be that way. He’s so distraught over Becky’s party. He honestly thinks he can keep her as a little girl for the rest of her life. That’s foolish I know it and you know it, but William’s desperate. He honestly thinks that if he can stop this party he can stop Becky from growing up.”

Lady Osbourne held Bessie a few more seconds and then she let her go. Although the noblewoman was both gentle and kind to the servant, but she had pressing matters in which she had to attend. Therefore, she reached up, wiped the tears from Bessie’s face, and said, “Run along, we’ve work to do.” Bessie smiled and thanked the lady who smiled back as she gently shooed Bessie on her way.

“There’s no call for William to be so cruel,” she said to herself. She made herself a promise that she would address this matter with him personally. Bessie had been a good and loyal servant to them since they arrived from England over seventeen years ago. Unlike most of the other servants, Bessie was not a slave or indentured. She was a free woman and she worked for the Osbourne’s because she loved them and not because she had to. He would not treat the servants in such a manner and she’d see to that personally.

Lady Osbourne stood for several minutes watching the carriage approach. With each passing second, the excitement within her began to build. It kept building and kept building until it crescendoed long before the carriage arrived. By the time the coach pulled in front of the porch, she was emotionally spent.

She had played this scenario dozens of times in her mind over the past few weeks. In fact, she had played so many times that she had the next few weeks planned down to the tiniest detail. Everything had to proceed without a hitch. She had too much invested in this celebration to allow even the slightest error to take place. Becky’s coming out party had to be the single greatest event ever to happen in the Virginia Colony.

Since Rebecca’s birth, Lady Osbourne had prayed and plotted to ensure that this event was unparalleled in the history of the Colony. She and her husband had amassed a fortune since arriving at the colony, and she was prepared to spend every cent of it on Becky’s ball.

They had been forced to flee England in humiliation. They never talked about it and only their most loyal servant, Brock knew of it, and he would never tell. This party was her way of winning back respectability not in Virginia, they already had respectability here, but London was her goal. She wanted every blue blood in England to know that she and her husband had defeated the American wilderness and that they had done it with dignity and grace.

She knew that everything she ever dreamed about was riding on the party. It was her secret fantasy that things go so smoothly that the news got back to England and into the king’s court. She hoped that once King George III heard the news he’d regret what his father had done to her family. Knowing that they could never go back to England, this was her way of showing the elites that they had not beaten her. Despite the odds, she had prevailed. This ball was not only Becky’s coming out party; it was hers as well. It was her way of showing the aristocrats back in England just what she was made of. Therefore, she was perfectly willing to die rather than allow anything to interfere with her plans. If that meant putting William in his place, then that’s what she would do.

As the carriage came up the drive that led to the mansion, Lady Osbourne looked around for her husband but he was nowhere in sight. “Where is he?” she thought to herself. She knew that he was against the ball, but she never guessed that he would be so rude as to not be here when the seamstress arrived. Part of her was infuriated with him, but she over ruled that. She would not allow Mary to see her angry because that might interfere with her plans.

The carriage stopped directly in front of the steps that led to the front porch of the house. Mary smiled, stood and said, “Good morning Lady Osbourne.”

“Good morning. How was your trip?”

“A bit hot, milady” stated Mary as she waited for the driver to help her down from the carriage.

“Yes, it is a very warm day.” Lady Osbourne laughed more from nervousness than from anything else. “Surely, the child has to wonder where my husband is?” she thought to herself. As if prompted by fate, Mary asked asked about the nobleman.

“Is your husband doing well, milady?”

“Y – Yes,” returned Lady Osbourne. Her voice was sporadic and broken. Mary asked only to be polite, but Lady Osbourne was so frazzled that she assumed Mary was looking for gossip. “He’s with Anthony and the other foremen. They’re taking care of an urgent bit of business.” Lady Osbourne had intentionally thrown Anthony’s name into the conversation hoping that this would side track Mary. It did.

“When he and the foremen are finished, I’ll introduce them to you.” Mary’s face began to glow. Lady Osbourne knew that she had hit pay dirt with that statement. Part of her wanted to probe deeper into the matter for two reasons. The first was that this obviously threw the young lady off the course she had taken earlier. The second reason was that Lady Osbourne was curious as to how serious things had become between her foreman and the young seamstress.

“They shouldn’t be long. William didn’t say what the business involved, but it won’t be long. My husband won’t be late for the noon meal.” The two women laughed at that statement. This time Lady Osbourne laughed out of genuine humor instead of nervousness. Now, that she had gotten Mary’s mind off of Lord Osbourne’s rudeness, she was beginning to lighten up and enjoy the young lady’s company.

Lady Osbourne called for the driver to carry Mary’s things into the house. The man obliged and followed the women into the manor. They began to talk about the ball and had gotten so involved in the conversation that noblewoman forgot to tell the driver where she wanted him to put Mary’s things. The two stood in the middle of the foyer and talked about the coming events. After about five minutes, the driver apologized for interrupting and then asked the mistress where she wanted him to put Mary’s bags.

“Up stairs in the first guest bedroom; the first one on the left.” She had chosen this bedroom because it was closest to Becky’s room. The upstairs consisted of ten bedrooms and two large closets. There was a set of stairs located in the center of the house. Six bedrooms were located to the left of the stairs and four bedrooms and the two closets were located to the right of the stairs. She and William shared the master bedroom, which was the farthest to the left. Then in order came, Joseph’s bedroom, Becky’s bedroom, Sarah’s bedroom and then the two guestrooms. To the right was the first guest bedroom, after that was the guest bedroom, which had become Thomas’s bedroom, then came the two other guest bedrooms and lastly came the two closets.

The driver had made it to the top of the stairs when Lady Osbourne stopped him. “Wait,” she said. The driver stopped and turned to face his mistress. “On second thought, put her in the bedroom next to Thomas.”

“Which one?” asked the driver. The whole matter confused him.

“The first one.”

The driver nodded that he understood and began to head off to the right. The reason Lady Osbourne wanted Mary on the right side of the house rather than the left was because she was playing matchmaker. She knew that Anthony stopped by to see Thomas every evening after dinner. If he should happen to go by Mary’s room on his way to see his friend, then who could guess what would happen? Unable to help herself, the noblewoman smiled at her devilish ingenuity.

“Where shall we start/” she asked as she pressed her hands in front of her chest and then began telling Mary about all the ideas she had came up with over the past few months. She told of her buying the contracts of three seamstresses so that she might use them to sew together the servants’ and the men’s suites. She stated that she tried to purchase Mary’s contract, but that Mr. Banks refused no matter how much was offered, but each time he agreed to think on it.

After several minutes of going over generalities with Mary, Lady Osbourne stopped, sat down and motioned for the Irish girl to sit beside her. Her face changed from a cheerful expression to one of a serious manner. “May I say something to you in the strictest of confidentiality?” she asked Mary.

“Yes,” piped Mary as she began to realize the seriousness of the question she had just been asked. “Yes, milady. You may tell me anything, and I will keep it with me until the day I die.” This was not an idle promise. Mary was a woman of her word and she kept the promise she made to Lady Osbourne. She would die with that secret still in her heart without ever having told a single soul.

Lady Osbourne looked at Mary and smiled. Her smile soon turned to laughter in which Mary joined. “I believe you,” she said.

“Thank you, milady.” Mary started laughing again. She warmed to Lady Osbourne very quickly because the noblewoman was someone she could trust. Though she never told anyone, she didn’t trust the Banks’. They were decent, enough and they were one of the leading families in the community, but she didn’t trust them. It seemed to her that they were always scheming and plotting in order to get a head. She knew that given the right circumstances Mrs. Banks would not think twice about committing a criminal or immoral act to accomplish her agenda. Other the other hand, Mary instinctively knew that Lady Osbourne was not capable of doing something like that. It just wasn’t part of her nature to be that way.

“Well, Mary here’s the situation.” Mary inched in closer to listen to what the woman was saying. “I want this ball to go very well. No, on second thought, I want it to be the best ball in the history of the Colony, neigh all the Colonies. I want people talking about Becky’s party a hundred years from now. When people think of the names Lord and Lady Osbourne, I want them to know that we were the perfect host and hostess.” She looked at Mary and asked, “Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes, milady.” Mary knew that the question had not been asked by the noblewoman in order to show her superiority, but rather to clarify that they were on the same page. This was a refreshing change for her. Mrs. Banks would ask a question like that only to prove that she was in charge.

“Good.” The woman stood up and motioned for Mary to follow. “Come along, I want you to meet my staff of seamstresses. They’re a pretty good lot, but not one of them has your talent for sewing.”

“Thank you, milady.” Mary had begun to blush at the compliment. Not since she left home had anyone given her such a warm welcome.

“Come, now, you must surely know how talented you are. You’re the best seamstress I have ever seen and that includes those who have shops set up in London. “

The young woman was beaming with pride. She really liked Lady Osbourne and now she was sorry she ever believed all the rumors Lady Banks had said about her. However, that was her mistress; Mrs. Banks never had a nice word to say about anyone. She called those whose station in life was above hers overlords. Those below were called trash. For her there was no middle ground. Anything that could be done to increase her station was fine. Anything to decrease the station of others was even better.

Mary never told anyone, but she secretly feared the Banks family. Although, they appeared to be the model of an ideal family, she considered them mean and backbiting, especially Mrs. Banks. The husband was a loveable dunce, but the mother and son, Marvin, were vile creatures. The Irish lass had been with them for five years and had seen some of the damage her mistress had rendered. The dress shop owner was not above any dastardly deed if it would advance her cause and get her one step further ahead.

Once when the daughter of a prominent citizen went to London to visit her grandparents, Mrs. Banks started a rumor that the girl was sent off to London to hide a pregnancy. Although the rumor was completely false, it did achieve its intended goal. It destroyed the reputation of the family involved. The next year when the father of the girl ran for city elder, Roger Banks easily defeated him.

This wasn’t the end of her dirty tricks. No family in the surrounding area had been left untouched by her rumormongering. It made no difference if they were rich or poor. She didn’t care. She set out and in many cases achieved total destruction of the victim’s character.

Mrs. Banks was manipulative and smart about the whole situation. When she started a rumor, she knew exactly who to tell and how to tell it so that it never got back to her. She would always start the rumors out with a statement like; “Did you hear what Sally Jones or Molly Smith said about Bill Brown?” She was indeed clever in her mischief because that was her chief occupation.

Lady Osbourne started a tour of the estate by leading Mary upstairs through all the bedrooms and into the closets. One of the closets had been temporarily transformed into a sewing room. There were dozens of rolls of fabric placed neatly on a series of tables. At least a gross of different spools of thread and several dozen needles and thimbles were neatly laid out on a single table located at the far left corner of the room. Six lamps had been placed on the mantle in the center of the right hand wall. Never had Mary seen such a well-planned sewing room.

“Will this be sufficient enough for you?” asked the noblewoman even though she knew the answer before she asked the question. She was beaming with pride because she had spared no expense in order to make this the perfect ball. Lady Osbourne knew this, the town knew this, and perhaps half of the Colony knew it as well. This would be her crowning moment as a mother!

“This is beyond my wildest dream!” piped an excited Mary. She was so excited that she forgot to say milady at the end of her sentence. She went to apologize to Lady Osbourne, but was quickly stopped by the mistress who was basking in the moment. This moment was perfect just the way it happened therefore, Lady Osbourne stopped the young woman to prevent her from doing anything that might jeopardize the feeling of total bliss in which she was now experiencing.

The Englishwoman stood there for several minutes with her eyes closed. Her smile seemed to grow with each passing minute. This was the first of many congratulations she was going to receive over the next few weeks. As a result, she couldn’t help but want to take in as much of it as she could. Realizing what was happening, Mary became silent and watched. The look of total pleasure on Lady Osbourne’s face made the Irish girl smile.

After about five minutes, the aristocrat looked at her seamstress and smiled. Mary smiled back. The two made a connection that would be remembered as long as they lived. They were no longer an indentured servant and her mistress. They were now partners in a great undertaking that must not fail. Each one knew that. She also knew that she would not allow failure to happen.

“Do you honestly like it?” asked Lady Osbourne with a voice that contained a mixture of hope and doubt. The hope was that Mary was telling the truth and the doubt was from her fear that everything would fall apart.

“Oh yes milady! I sure do! It’s exquisite! I can only dream of having a sewing room this perfect. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s perfect.”

“Thank you,” returned a visibly humbled Lady Osbourne as she blushed from the compliments she had just been given. Part of her wanted to scream with excitement, but that was quickly overruled by the deepest gentlest part of her soul; the part that was truly grateful and deeply appreciative for the heartfelt praise she had just received. Mary wasn’t trying to butter her up, nor was she trying to gain an edge on Lady Osbourne. The seamstress was truly enamored with the sewing room. That was what humbled the Englishwoman. Here was a young woman who appreciated the sewing room for what it was worth. Lady Osbourne had to admit to herself that part of the reason she did the sewing room the way she did it was to impress and even rub some of her associates’ faces in it. Here stood a person who saw the real beauty of the whole room and that moved the Englishwoman to the point of tears.

At that instant, the noblewoman knew that she and the maiden were kindred spirits. Though society would not allow them to be friends, they would share a bond that she could never truly share with any of the people that moved within her circle of influence.

This was the first time in her life that Lady Osbourne felt as though she and one of her servants may be equal. She had always felt a bit superior to them. In many cases, she felt as though they were nothing more than animals. She did love some of them such as her nanny and the house servants her parents had when she wan growing up in London, but she never felt as though they were her equal. They had always considered them beneath her. Now, here was a young lady that was her servant, and she considered this woman to be her equal. That was both a strange and exciting turn for lady of the manor.

“Enough,” she thought as she forced herself to purge all thoughts of equality and friendship from her mind. She had a job to do.

“Mary,” she said. The young lady returned the proper greeting and that pleased Lady Osbourne. “Here is what I want to do.” With that, she began to go into great detail about her plans. She told Mary that she wanted to make four dresses for both Becky and herself. She wanted three made for her youngest daughter, Sarah. She said that she needed two dresses made exactly alike for Becky and her. That way there would be a spare ball gown were something to go wrong. She had thought about every possibility.

As the two women sat in the chamber and talked for the next couple of hours, they discussed in minute detail the plans Lady Osbourne had been making since the second Becky was born. The noblewoman would often quiz Mary on her plans to ensure that the young woman understood exactly what she wanted to do. Mary didn’t disappoint.

After a couple of hours, Lady Osbourne stood up and asked, “Are you hungry?” She had become a bit famished during the conversation and suspected that the young lady might feel that way as well.

“Yes, milady, I am.”

“Good, I’m famished.” Without saying another word, the noblewoman walked to the door of the sewing room and called down to one of the servants. When the servant answered, the mistress of the manor asked if food could be brought up to them. The servant immediately obeyed. Within minutes, two female house servants were at the door and each was holding a tray of food and drink.

One of the servants said, “Lucy is baking some cookies. She said she’d fetch some up to you the instant they’s finished.”

“Wonderful,” piped Lady Osbourne as she clapped her hands in delight. She looked at Mary and said, “You haven’t lived until you have tasted Lucy’s cookies. The food in heaven will taste just like’em.”

Smiling, Mary responded, “I look forward to it, milady.”

“It’ll indeed be a treat.” Looking at the servant that had spoken, Lady Osbourne asked,
“How long will it be Maggie?”

“A few minutes ma’am. Lucy just put a new batch in the oven. She had some already made, but Lord Osbourne took them outside to the foremen. It shouldn’t be…”

“What’s that about my husband?”

“Ma’am?” asked the servant as she realized she had said too much.

“I asked what you said about my husband.”

“Nothing, ma’am. Just that he took the first batch of cookies out to the foremen.”

“Where are the foremen?”

“On the table under the large oak tree.”

“Really?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Maggie would you be so kind as to take our trays down to the oak tree. I would like to eat outside.” Looking at Mary, she asked, “Wouldn’t you prefer to eat outside on such a wonderful day as this one?”

“Yes, milady.” It made no difference to Mary where she ate but she agreed because she secretly hoped that Anthony would be with the other men.

The Englishwoman looked at Maggie and shooed her away by the wave of a hand. The servant motioned with her head for the other one to follow. Heading down the stairs, Maggie mumbled about her bad luck under her breath. She knew what Lady Osbourne was up to, and she didn’t want to have anything to do with it, but she was trapped and she knew it.

As the four women exited the kitchen door, Lady Osbourne saw her husband standing with his back to them. Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, she took a step out the door curled her eyes in mock surprise and said,” William. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Without even blinking, she continued her act. “I was discussing the details of the ball with Mary when Maggie brought lunch up to us and I thought, ‘Wouldn’t this be the perfect day to eat outside?’ So, I asked Mary if she’d like to have lunch under the shade tree and she agreed. We never thought to see you here.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t,” grumbled William. His face flushed in anger as he turned to face her. He wanted to ask if it were her intent to embarrass him in front of the foremen, but he had been reared too well in the social graces to start and argument in front of others.

Lady Osbourne wife knew this and that was the only reason she invited Mary to eat under the oak tree. She had out maneuvered her husband, and she had accomplished it such a way to where he couldn’t respond and still keep his social standing. It brought her pleasure when she realized that she had just put him in his place.

“Come William,” she said. She wore an expression of hurt, but inside she was screaming with delight. Although she loved her husband, she loved stinging him even more. Still, she had to admit that he allowed her to get a way with things that most husbands would never allow. She also knew where the boundaries lay therefore, she was well aware of how far she could push him. Although she had walked that fine line numerous times, she never crossed it.

“Are you saying we cannot join you?” asked Lady Osbourne. She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing at the spectacle that now stood in front of her.

“By all means, no.” William had too much of a presence about him to forget his station and all the responsibility that came with it. He was not going to lose his composure in front of the foremen and Mary. No, he was going to take it for now, but he would ensure that his wife had a very unpleasant evening. Both understood that it was going to take a lot for her to make this up to him, and he was going to use that guilt as leverage against her.

“We would love for you to join us.” He waved the women to the table with as much grace as he could muster given the situation. Glancing at the foremen, he asked, “Would you like for the ladies to join us in lunch?” They agreed to his request. As the women approached, the men stood until the ladies had been seated.

Lady Osbourne sat on the front right hand side of the table. Mary sat opposite her. By doing that, she sat herself next to Anthony. Lady Osbourne was delighted as she realized that her plan to rub Anthony and Mary’s romance in William’s face was working better that expected. After the women were seated, the men sat down and continued eating.

The table was quiet for several minutes as everyone began to eat. Lord Osbourne was thankful for the lack of noise, but his wife wanted everyone talking. It was her hope, that she could get one of the two lovebirds to confess his or her feelings. Silence was her enemy and William’s ally therefore, she had to get the conversation started or else her plans might backfire on her. Unable to think of any thing else to do, the noblewoman began to initiate a bit of small talk.

“What have you been doing all morning?” she asked her husband. She wasn’t really interested in what he had been doing, but she was hoping that this would lead to a discussion, and then she would steer it in the direction in which she was hoping to proceed.

“We’ve been clearing the field between the pasture and rock quarry. “It’s been slow going, but we’re making progress. Next year we’ll be able to plant a crop out there. I hope we can plant a tobacco crop. That’s the best cash crop we have in Virginia.”

“I thought you were not going to clear that field until early autumn,” replied his wife. She tried to act surprised. Normally, her act would have fooled no one, but the rest of the party felt the tension between her and her spouse, so they were too busy trying to keep from being caught in the middle of the soon coming fight to pay attention to her acting abilities.

“We were.”

“Why’ve you now started to clear the field? Couldn’t it wait until the fall of the year?”

“Yes, it could’ve, but I decided not to wait until the last moment. Over the next few days, we’ll have plenty of spare time; therefore, I thought I’d go a head and clear the field while I have a chance. Never know what might take place in the future.”

“I’ll grant you that.” Not knowing what to say next, Lady Osbourne kept quiet for a few minutes. The whole time she was curing her luck for failing at her goal of starting a chat. Knowing that pursuing the previous course of action would be useless, she was trying to think of another plan when her thoughts were interrupted.

“Your cookies are ready, Mistress.” The voice came from the kitchen. The noblewoman looked in the direction of the kitchen door and there stood Maggie. She was holding a big platter of cookies. The mistress smiled and thanked her servant. With the exception of getting under William’s skin, there was nothing she enjoyed more than Bessie or Lucy’s cookies.

“Bring them over to us.”

Maggie walked down the steps and over to the table. She placed the platter of warn confections in the middle of the table. “Y’all be careful now,” she said upon walking back to the kitchen. “Them cookies is hot. Ain’t been outta the oven for more than two minutes. If’n you get burnt, ain’t nobody ta blame but ya selves. I done gone and warned you.”

“Thank you Maggie,” piped William as he looked over at the hot cookies. He too loved sweets. “Try one,” he said to Mary. “Those are without a doubt the world’s greatest cookie.”

Without saying another word, William reached over his wife, grabbed a cookie and brought it to his face, but he didn’t eat it. He looked at it instead. As he held it up and was staring at it, the cookie began to lean to one side and started folding in half. “Perfect,” he squealed with delight as He shoved it into his mouth. The Englishman sighed from delight when he chomped down on that first bite. Within seconds, the rest of the men had followed his lead.

“She’s out done herself this time,” said Brock through a mouthful of cookies. The rest agreed by either shaking their heads or moaning in delight. “That’s one gifted woman.”

“Yes she is,” piped Lady Osbourne as she took a second bite of cookie. As she sat there enjoying the taste explosion in her mouth, she forgot about taking another barb at her husband. She would remember it in a few minutes but right now, she was enjoying the cookie too much to think of anything else.

Mary was still eating her food when the others were on their fourth or fifth cookie. “Aren’t you going to try one?” asked Brock. She shook her head to indicate that she was. She didn’t speak because she had food in her mouth. “You’d better hurry, these cookies are magical.”

“Magical?” asked Lady Osbourne. “How so?”

“Simple,” returned Brock. “They disappear the second she puts them down.” They all began to laugh at his joke.

“True, true,” squealed Lady Osbourne.

Brock reached across the table and took up one of the warm cookies. He then reached across Anthony and set the cookie on Mary’s plate. “There you go,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to see lady as pretty as you go without having tried at least one.”

“Thank you,” returned Mary in an awkward voice as she began to blush. She bowed her head in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.

“You’ve embarrassed her!” Anthony snapped before he had a chance to think about it. The rest of the group was stunned by his words because it was not like him to get angry over a girl.

“No I haven’t,” returned Brock. He wore a devilish grin on his face the entire time. “Ask her.” Looking straight at Anthony he said, “Go ahead and ask her.” Anthony refused and began to lock onto return Brock’s gaze. The English foreman’s stare was cold and calculating. It was as though he was trying to figure out a way to get under Anthony’s skin and he was succeeding at doing just that. Anthony’s look on the other hand was nothing short of a warning. It seemed to say, “Leave her alone or I’ll make you regret it!”

“Have I embarrassed you?” The chief foreman asked the Irish girl.

“Mr. Brock,” piped Lord Osbourne. “That’s enough.” Lord Osbourne was trying to defuse the situation hoping to stop it before it escalated into a brawl.

His wife on the other hand was thoroughly enjoying the whole spectacle. She watched Mary’s embarrassment and wondered if she would have been so coy if Anthony had given her the cookie instead of James. She was also amused at how fast Anthony came to Mary’s rescue. As far as she was concerned, this incident had settled matter. These two were either on the brink of it or actually in love. Smiling as she thought of it, the noblewoman promised herself that she would do everything she could to see that the budding romance came to its ultimate fruition.

“Let him alone William. He’s just teasing.” She was hoping that her fellow conspirator would pick up on her cue, he did.

‘Sure,” said Brock. I was just having a little sport with her. “No harm meant.”

“Of course not,” piped Lady Osbourne.

“I won’t make sport of you again.” James was looking straight at Anthony when he said that. The Highlander was too busy trying to comfort Mary to notice that his friend had been talking to him, but everyone else noticed.

“Good, see that you don’t do it again,” uttered the Scotsman still unable to grasp that he had been the subject of the joke and not Mary. She had been merely the tool Brock used to get at him.

The chief foreman winked at the rest of the party and promised that he wouldn’t make any more sport of the Irish girl.

“No harm done,” said Mary who was too enwrapped in the comfort Anthony was now giving her to have taken notice of what anyone else said or did.

Within minutes, lunch had ended. William stood up and stated that he and the men had work to do and that they had better get started. Lady Osbourne went to protest but was afraid that might tip her hand; therefore, she held her tongue.

The nobleman looked at the men and asked, “Are you guys ready to get back to work?”

“Not really,” returned Brock. With the exception of the Highlander, the others laughed. Anthony was too busy concentrating on the beautiful young maiden to take notice.

“Too bad,” piped Lord Osbourne, “because we now must take our leave.” He bowed to his wife and then to Mary and said, “Forgive me, must I must get back to work.” The women stood up and then Lady Osbourne excused the men from the table.

As they were leaving, the English woman called after her husband. “William, don’t forget to invite the foremen for dinner tonight.” Lord Osbourne pretended not to hear it, so she called out to him again. This time he nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“This is too good to be true,” thought Brock as he began to think of all the opportunities he would have to aggravate Anthony during the next few days. A naughty grin raced across his face. “This feels almost like Christmas,” he thought to himself.

It was the first part of July before the material finally arrived. Anthony had made several trips into town to check on it. Each time he was thankful that they told him that it hadn’t arrived. That meant he would be given another chance to see Mary and much to his liking, a romance had started to blossom between the two.

Anthony began to make excuses to Lord Osbourne about going to town to check on the material. It got to where he was going every Monday and Wednesday. When he found out what church Mary attended, he began to attend on Sundays. This surprised Lord Osbourne, but not Lady Osbourne. She had guessed that a woman was the reason for Anthony’s sudden religious conversion. Lord Osbourne, who was a pious man himself, was thrilled that Anthony suddenly developed an interest in his church.

“Have you noticed how Anthony has taken a deep interest in our religious views?” Lord Osbourne asked his wife one evening over dinner. “I thought he was from a Presbyterian family. They’re insanely devoted to their beliefs, but Anthony seems genuinely interested in our faith.”

“Are you sure he’s interested our faith or a certain young Irish seamstress that is an indentured servant for the Banks family?”

“Nonsense. He’s finally comes to his senses when it pertains to spiritual matters, and you have to debase it by talking about lust.”

“I’m not talking about lust. I’m talking about love.”

Lord Osbourne harrumphed. “Love! What does that have to do with it? Anthony’s not in love.” William shook his head and began to laugh. “Anthony in love, where do you come up with such ideas?”

“Well,” she started to say, but let it go. William was convinced that he was right and nothing short of a miracle from God would change his mind and Lady Osbourne knew this. As a result, she decided that she would drop the subject all together. It wasn’t worth a fight.

Apparently, William felt otherwise, because he began pursuing her on the subject. “Anthony is a Presbyterian, and this little girl is Irish: therefore, wouldn’t it be logical for him to be going to a Catholic church if he wanted to get in her good graces? Why on earth would he attend our church if he’s in love with an Irish girl? That makes no sense. I believe that he may be in the middle of a religious conversion. Wouldn’t you agree?’

Smiling victoriously, Lord Osbourne thought he had put the subject to rest, but his speech had only managed to stir up Lady Osbourne. She almost interrupted him in mid-sentence, but decided to let him finish. “Are you finished?”

“Yes, why?”

“May I present my side? I believe I have a valid point.”

There was a bit of venom in her voice. It didn’t go unnoticed by her husband. He winced for he knew he had crossed the line and that he was about to get his comeuppance. “Yes, you may.” His voice was a mixture of caution and dread.

“Thank you,” she said. “First of all, even though she is a Catholic, the young lady attends services with the Banks at our church. Whether she is forced to do this or not, I don’t know, but she is there every Sunday. They normally sit towards the front and on the left side of the church. We sit nearly dead center. I’ve noticed that Anthony’s always looking in that direction during services. In addition, several times I’ve caught our young Irish lady looking towards us. Anthony may be sincere in his beliefs. I don’t know if he is or he isn’t, but he goes to church to see the young and beautiful Mary Bentley.”

“Are you sure?” asked a cautious Lord Osbourne. “I find it hard to believe that a man would go to church just to see a young woman. That seems almost blasphemous if you ask me.”

“Here’s what we can do to find out.” She could tell that he was considering what she was about to say. This was the moment for which she had been waiting. When William began to ponder another person’s argument, he would usually seed his or her point and eventually wind up losing the argument. “Sometime this week you need to let it slip that the Banks family is going away on holiday, and that they won’t be in church on Sunday. If Anthony makes an excuse not to go, then we know his conversion is to Mary Bentley and not our church, but if he goes then we know he’s sincere.” Lord Osbourne thought about it and agreed that this was a good plan, but it had one flaw. It required a lie.

“I don’t want to lie to Anthony. I won’t do it.”

“You won’t have to; the Banks family is going away on holiday beginning this Tuesday.”

“Ah, I see.” Realizing that he had just been outmaneuvered, Lord Osbourne attempted to find a rebuttal to her argument but couldn’t. “You knew this all along, didn’t you?” Lady Osbourne smiled and shook her head, but didn’t say a word. She knew she had won.

“That angers me,” said William. His voice was low but forceful. “Does that amuse you?” Her response was to deny his charges, but he was too angry to listen. “I don’t like it when you make sport of me! It’s unbecoming a lady.”

“William,” she retorted. She was now beginning to become angry herself. “I never meant to have sport with you. I merely wanted to tell you that our young foreman has fallen in love. You’re the one who became angry over nothing.”

The two spared over the next several minutes. As bad he hated to admit it, his wife had a point. Lord Osbourne detested losing an argument, and he positively hating being wrong. Even though he was loath to admit it, he knew she had won, but was not about to give in to her. To give in would be tantamount to admitting that he had lost, and that thought was completely unacceptable to him. Therefore, he would continue to argue until she grew weary, and then she would quit and thus, he could declare victory.

That was William’s way. What he couldn’t win with logic, he would deflect and distract enough until the other person either quit or left. Either way, he considered himself the winner. He continued with his argument until his wife finally threw up her hands in frustration and left the room.

After she had left, William stood there and fought with himself. After an argument, he was always ambivalent about his feeling. Since she quit, he assumed he had won and that pleased him, but he also knew that he had to cheat to win, and that made his victory both hollow and meaningless. Such victories let him with a feeling of emptiness and he despised that feeling.

He decided that he would give his wife time to regain her composure and then he would go in and apologize. She’d be furious, but she would forgive him. He also knew that the only way he would make amends would be to give up all hope of stopping Becky’s party. When he apologized, his wife would require a condition in order to forgive him. She always did, and he knew this time would be no different. The only thing she would accept would be his total capitulation on this matter. Realizing defeat was inevitable; he decided to wait until tomorrow to talk to her about it. Flashing a smile born of defeat, William understood that he was going to sleep in one of the quest bedrooms tonight and that suited him just fine. He was in no hurry to give in on the party. Sleeping a night or two in another room was a small price to pay for holding on to his fantasy of preventing the party.

That Sunday William got up bright and early in order to go on an early morning stroll before having breakfast. Later when asked about it, he would tell his wife that it was merely coincidence that he happened to stroll by Anthony’s cabin. He would also argue that it would have been improper if he hadn’t stopped in and pay his respects to his foreman. “There’s no harm in that,” he thought to himself as he made straight for the Highlanders lodgings.

Not wanting to give rise to suspicion, Lord Osbourne took a roundabout way to the cabin. He didn’t want to appear as that that was where he was going. Nope, he was on a leisurely stroll, and that was all anyone needed to know.

After about a twenty-five minute into the amble, William ended up at the foreman’s cabin. He was about thirty feet from the cabin door when he began to have a debate with himself. One side said that he should go ahead and knock in the cabin and the other was against that plan. At first, he was afraid that the men might not be up at this hour, but as the aroma of tea hit his nose, and he knew someone was awake. Still, he didn’t want to bother them.

Pacing around the cabin several times, he debated himself about knocking on the door or waiting for someone to exit before he invited himself in to talk. Twice he almost knocked on the door, but each time he stopped himself before he actually tapped on it. He was still pacing back and forth when the door to the cabin opened.

“Lord Osbourne,” stated a surprised Mr. Brock. Three of the nobleman’s four foremen shared the foreman’s cabin. They were Brock, Anthony and Jimmy. The last foreman, whose name was Daniel, was married, and he live in a cabin with his wife and two children; a boy aged six and a girl aged four.

“James,” returned Lord Osbourne. Few called Brock’s by his first name. He always went by either “Brock” or “Mr. Brock.” Only Lord Osbourne, his wife and their children knew were allowed to call Mr. Brock by his first name and the seldom if ever did.

“Brock,” repeated Lord Osbourne. “How are you doing this fine morning?” Lord Osbourne took in a deep and exaggerated breath as he was tried to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately, his words came across as stale and rehearse.

“Is there something I can help you with?” asked Mr. Brock understanding that Lord Osbourne wanted something, but as to what the nobleman wanted he had no idea what that may be. “Were you needing something?”

“Oh no, I was out for a stroll and just happened to wonder over this way. I was passing by when you came out. Don’t you agree that this is a beautiful day for a morning stroll?” With that, Lord Osbourne sucked in a deep breath and patted the sides of his belly. “A truly marvelous day for a walk.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Brock as he began to look to his left and then to his right. He used his right hand to shade his eyes and he looked up at the sky. “Not a cloud in the sky. Yes, it’s a beautiful morning.”

“Are the rest of the foremen awake?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just curious, that’s all.” Lord Osbourne stopped speaking and stood around as if expecting something from Brock. Confused by this display coming from his employer, Mr. Brock was unsure of what to do next.

“Is there something you need,” asked Brock a second time.

“No, no. I am just going for a little walk. The fresh air’s good for the body.”

“Tea’s ready,” shouted a voice form inside the cabin.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” said William. Disappointment rang in his voice. Without saying another word, Lord Osbourne turned and began to head towards the house. Mr. Brock assumed that his boss didn’t want to leave, but he couldn’t figure out just what it was that the man really did want.

“Would you like some tea?” asked Brock secretly hoping that this would keep his employer around long enough for him to figure out what was taking place.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“No intrusion,” replied Brock. “You know you’re welcome. I can’t promise you the greatest tea in the world, but it does the job.”

“I bet it does,” piped William with a smile. He turned and nearly ran into Brock. The nobleman entwined his right arm with Brock’s left and began to lead the foreman into the cabin. “I don’t want to disturb you, but if you insist, I guess it would be rude of me to turn you down.”

“Yes, it would.” Brock had no clue about what was taking place, but he knew that he had at least asked the right question. Lord Osbourne wanted in the cabin for some reason. Although, Brock didn’t know what that reason was, he was dying to find out.

Anthony was dressed and sitting on one of the four chairs that surrounded a table in the middle of the small house. He and the married foremen were waiting while the third man was brewing the tea. When Lord Osbourne entered the room, Anthony and the second man quickly stood up to face their boss. The third man had his back to the door and was unaware of what was taking place.

“Lord Osbourne,” squeaked Anthony. His voice shrilled as he spoke. “Is anything wrong?”

When the third man heard the commotion and turned to see Lord Osbourne standing at the door, he dropped a spoon that he had been holding. It echoed with a thud when it hit the floor.

“Am I interrupting?” asked Lord Osbourne. Almost in unison the three said, “No, sir.”

“Good, I would hate to be an intrusion on such a fine day.”

“No intrusion,” said the man who had been holding the spoon. He tried to laugh and act nonchalantly, but failed because he was much too nervous to be convincing.

“I was on a leisurely stroll when I came across Mr. Brock, and he invited me in for a spot of tea. How could I deny his request? And here I am.”

Brock motioned for his boss to take a seat. The aristocrat smiled his thanks and sat down in the chair directly opposite of where Anthony had been sitting. “Take a seat,” he told the men as he folded his hands together and waited for them to sit.

“I can’t stay long. I have to be getting ready for church. I really enjoy the services, don’t you?” The men all nodded in agreement. “I hear that today’s sermon is supposed to be first rate. I am looking forward to it.”

“They say that parson Simmons is an excellent preacher,” stated Brock hesitantly. He didn’t know if his comment would help him to clarify thing or not, but he wanted to continue down this road. Even though he had figured out was his boss was trying to do, Mr. Brock understood that church was the key to him unlocking the mystery that had now engulfed Lord Osbourne.

“That he is,” returned the nobleman shaking his head in agreement.

The whole situation seemed to be surreal and dream like to James Brock. It didn’t even look right to him. It seemed as though William was exaggerating his movement and that lent an eerie almost otherworld sense to his actions.

“He’s a fine speaker,” stated Anthony in agreement. “I look forward to his sermons every week. I bet today’ll be no different.”

“Does that mean you are going to be attending today’s service?” asked Lord Osbourne. The man who had been preparing the tea set a tankard in front of the nobleman and then proceeded to give everyone else a mug of tea.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” piped Anthony. “I’ll be ready to go before too long.”

“Good,” squealed William with obvious delight, as he was barely able to contain his excitement. Taking a small sip of the tea, the nobleman didn’t even taste it. His mind was racing with the thoughts of what his wife might say when she saw Anthony in church latter that day. Part of him wanted to jump up and shout for joy, but he didn’t. Although, he knew that his victory over his wife would be a small one, he was nonetheless happy to have won it.

“I must be going,” piped Lord Osbourne. “I want to get an early start on getting ready for church. We don’t want to be late.”

Brock sat there stunned by this revelation. Church didn’t begin for several more hours. “What’s he up to?” thought the foreman to himself. Lord Osbourne was plotting something that involved Anthony and church but exactly what it was had as of yet refuse to reveal itself. A great more information would be needed before this mystery resolved itself, but he was getting closer to the answer of that he was sure.

William stood and began to leave. “Are the rest of you coming to church?” The other two were hesitant with their answers, but it was obvious they didn’t want to attend. Nor did they want to offend their boss.

“You don’t have to attend, if you don’t want to,” piped the Englishman when he realized that he had put them on the spot. “I was inviting you. You don’t have to come.” The two were still hesitant so he continued. “I tell you what, since this is the day of rest, you two may take the whole day off.” They thanked him and didn’t say another word.

“Brock, are you coming with us today?” asked William even though knew Brock was not a religious man, but he asked in order to be polite and so not to exclude anyone.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” returned Mr. Brock as he fought within himself to keep from smiling, but he couldn’t. He was grinning from ear to ear.

Lord Osbourne didn’t understand why, and at first, he didn’t care, but then it hit him. His foreman was plotting something. Although, he couldn’t put his finger on it but he’d been around the man too long not to know it.

“Good,” returned Lord Osbourne. “I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours.”

“That’ll be perfect.”

“I’ll take my leave now.” The lord excused himself and exited the cabin.

The four stood at the door and watched until their boss was at least a couple hundred yards away. “What was that all about?” asked the man who had been cooking earlier.

“You don’t think he’ll be angry with us for not going?” asked the other man.

“No,” said Brock. “He’s up to something. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know him and he’s definitely up to something. I can tell you this much. Whatever he’s up to, involves Anthony and church.”

“Me?” questioned Anthony. “Why would it involve me?”

“I don’t know,” returned James, “but I intend to find out.” Smiling, he said, “I love a good drama. This one has the makings of a fine story.”

“Does it have to involve me?” asked Anthony.

“I’m afraid you’re the central character. I am looking forward to seeing this drama played out and…”

“I’m not,” interjected a perplexed Anthony.

“Of course not, you’re either the hero or villain in this play. We’ve got to figure out which one.”

“I’d prefer neither.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“I guessed that already,” stated a subdued Anthony. He didn’t like the fact that he was involved in this thing that Lord Osbourne had cooking up in his mind and he was determined that he was not going to play along even though he hadn’t figured out what playing along meant.

A little over an hour later, a carriage came rolling towards the foremen’s cabin. It belonged to Lord Osbourne. Seated in it were the driver and Lady and Lord Osbourne. William was in a pleasant mood, but his wife didn’t appear to be. Her face wore a scowl and she was holding a parasol in her left hand in order to protect her from the direct sun. She was fanning herself with a small roundish fan with her right hand.

“Oh William,” she cried. “Must we stop?”

“Both Anthony and Brock want to go to church today. I felt it was too hot for them to walk or ride, therefore I am going to offer them a ride in the carriage.”

“You’ve never done that before,” she exclaimed. “Why on earth would you want to start now? Anthony has always walked to” – and then it hit her. “William! You’re not doing this just to win a silly argument?”

“Of course not.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Anger began to well up in her. She knew her husband had set this whole thing up and she was determined to find out why he had done such a thing. As she was pondering his actions, she suddenly realized that he was using her social graces against her. He knew she would never make a public spectacle out of herself and thus he would win. “He’ll not get off so lucky,” she thought. “I’ll fix him when we get home.”

As Lady Osbourne sat there fuming at what her husband was doing, she began running the events of the past few days through her mind. He was up to something and that meant he had to prove a point. Above all things, William hated to lose an argument. Why was he doing this? She knew that he had to be trying to prove either her wrong or himself right or perhaps a combination of both and she correctly assumed that it was the latter of the three.

While she was sitting there trying to figure out what her husband was doing, the coach stopped, William hopped off the carriage and walked up to the door of the foremen’s cabin. Brock opened the door before Lord Osbourne was within ten feet of the portal.

“Lord Osbourne,” stated Brock as he opened the door. It took every bit of will power he could muster to keep from laughing. Looking up at the fuming Lady Osbourne, he guessed that the little situation with Anthony involved her as well. “The plot thickens,” he thought to himself.

“What are you doing here?” he asked of his boss.

“I thought you and Anthony might like a ride to church.” The nobleman intentionally emphasized Anthony’s name. “It’s much too hot to walk.”

“I didn’t expect this, but I sure thank you for it.”

“It’s our pleasure. Is Anthony still coming?” Trying to act as casually as he could, Lord Osbourne climbed back up into the carriage and took his place beside his wife. Lady Osbourne harrumphed when he sat next to her. It wasn’t loud, but Brock heard it. This gave him second thoughts about taking a ride, but that passed when he realized that were he not to go, then he’d miss this little drama.

The pieces of the puzzle where starting to fall into place and he began to sum up the clues that he had and he guessed most of what was taking place. As he began to review the evidence, the first thought that came to his mind was that Lord Osbourne had never asked him to go to church with him prior to today. Anthony had to ask permission of him to go the first time he went to his original worship service. The nobleman never offered to take his people to church. He’d never stopped by the foremen’s cabin before, except to conduct business. Lastly, Lady Osbourne was visibly upset, and it had to involve this. Brock guessed that they had been arguing and the argument involved Anthony and church. The foreman smiled as realized that he needed just more one last piece to figure out why they had argued over Anthony and the church. That piece was the Highlander.

The four of them arrived earlier than usual. The master informed the two men that the children would be along in a little while. He told them that they could sit in the carriage and wait for the services to begin or they could follow his example and socialize with the other guests that had already arrived. Without saying another word, Lord Osbourne then hopped out of the carriage and offered his hand to his wife. She hesitated before she took it, as he knew she would. Her sense of duty would force her to take his hand and play the part of the loving wife. That was his trump card and he knew it.

A couple hundred yards from where the driver had stopped the carriage, there was a grove of fruit trees that shaded the land from the sun. At least a dozen families had already gathered under the shade and were talking and laughing amongst themselves. Lord and Lady Osbourne made their way over to join them.

“I’ll not forget what you did,” whispered the Englishwoman. Though she was smiling in order to keep up appearances, William knew that she meant it, and that frightened him.

“What did I do?” he asked feigning ignorance, but he knew she had figured it out. It was obvious that he had brought Anthony to church today in order to witness that he had been right all along. She frowned as she tried to figure out how he had accomplished this. With Anthony, she guessed that Scotsman thought Mary might be a church, but it was a different story with Brock. The foreman hated church. It took some cunning on William’s behalf to get him here.

“We’ll discuss this later,” she said. “I promise you that you won’t like the results.”

“I already don’t.”

She didn’t say another word. “Does he consider me a fool?” she thought to herself. Once she began thinking about it, she began to reconsider the day’s events. Was it possible that this was all a misunderstanding and that she was being too hard on her husband? Could it be possible that she had taken things out of context and was punishing her husband for her own misinformed judgment? She thought this over and over and over and she came to the only logical conclusion; “he was up to something.”

They sat in their usual place. Lady Osbourne noticed that on more than one occasion Anthony looked for Mary, but did not find her. “Are you looking for something?” she asked the Scotsman.

William heard her and was shocked by her impudence. “You forget your place,” whispered her in order to verbally reprimand her.

“That’s all right,” said Anthony. “No harm done.”

“You don’t ask questions like that in church,” muttered William.

“That’s all right,” whispered Anthony a second time. “If you must know I was looking for Mary Bentley. She is the indentured seamstress that…”

“We know who she is,” returned Lady Osbourne as she nearly squealed with delight. Unable to contain herself, she began bouncing from side to side. Even though, she knew it was not the correct thing to do, but she couldn’t help herself. She had clearly won a huge victory over her husband, and she knew that he knew it.

“You do?” Anthony’s voice was broken. He sounded like a child that had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and then trying to lie his way out of it. “What- do – you- know of her?”

“Just that she’s a fine seamstress and that she’ll be returning on Wednesday.”

“How do you know that?” questioned Anthony. Lady Osbourne smiled as she heard both the hope and fear in his voice.

Realizing that his wife had now caught on to his scheme, Lord Osbourne whispered, “Will you two be quiet? I’m trying to listen to the sermon and so is Brock. Isn’t that right, Brock?”

Brock didn’t say a word, but sat there grinning from ear to ear. The full effect of this drama had just slapped him across the face despite the fact that he had to admit that this wasn’t what he had thought it would be. This was even better. Twice he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. The child in him wanted to jump up and scream at the top of his lungs, but sat there and grinned like a drunken fool at a summer party.

Waving her husband off with her left hand, Lady Osbourne spoke to Anthony. “We know her because we have contracted with the Banks family to have her sew some dresses for Becky’s Ball. She will be spending at least a week to ten days at the estate.”

“Really!” exclaimed Anthony as the sheer delight of the mistress had just said hit him with the force of a charging bull.

“That’s correct,” she said.

Brock nearly lost his composure. Although the vicar was preaching fire and brimstone, he sat there in the middle of the church silently laughing as his shoulders danced up and down to the rhythm of his inaudible mirth. If he was worried about embarrassing himself, he didn’t have to. Those few that saw him thought that he was crying from the sermon being delivered by the parson. After church, the pastor even commented that he had noticed the shaking. He too thought it was from fright and commented that he was pleased to see someone enjoy his sermon as much as Brock appeared to have enjoyed it. Brock assured him that parson that had never in all his life had he had such a wonderful time in church. The pastor squealed with delighted when he heard that.

The trip home was a delight for Brock, pure misery for Lord Osbourne, a joy for Lady Osbourne and anticipatory for Anthony.

Brock was thrilled for several reasons. He now knew the answer to the riddle that had been puzzling him and he had a hold over Anthony, as a result of knowing that his Scottish friend was in love with an Irish girl. Lastly, he had learned something about Lord Osbourne that he had never known before; Lord Osbourne could be manipulative when he had something to gain from it. He also knew that Lord Osbourne would be extra nice to everyone for the next few weeks, because he would be frightened by the possibility of antagonizing his wife.

The Highlander was his biggest concern. The information he gained today would give him power over the Scotsman. All the way home, Brock plotted how he might use this information to his advantage. His initial thought was to slowly torture the Scotsman, but he passed on that idea. He also pondered on confronting his friend with the knowledge he now possessed. Either way, it was going to be fun at plantation for the next few weeks. An evil grinned swept across his face, as he plotted to ensure that he would close by every time Anthony and the lovely Mary Bentley were together. Unable to contain his excitement over the entire situation, Brock silently giggled to himself when he reflected on the whole situation. He took great pleasure in watching people wiggle and squirm and he figured that he Highlander had enough ammunition to keep himself happy for at least two to three weeks and with a little luck he could possibly stretch it out as long as a month or more. Only yesterday, he was thinking that this was going to be a long boring summer. “What a difference twenty-four hours could make?”

“When will the seamstress be coming out to the estate?” asked Brock trying to sound casual enough so as not to raise any suspicions.

“The Banks’ are due back from holiday on Wednesday,” stated Lady Osbourne. “We’ve already talked to Mr. Banks about the dresses. We’ve contracted with him to have Mary to work exclusively for us. She’s going to be sewing dresses for Becky, Sarah and myself. It may take longer than a week.” That statement forced the hackles on back of Lord Osbourne’s neck to stand on edge, which is exactly what she had meant to do. “I am only guessing, but it may take upwards of three weeks to finish the dresses. It’s rather hard to say.”

Lord Osbourne coughed and began to wiggle in his seat, but he said nothing.

Watching this play unfold, delighted Brock to no end, therefore, he decided that he needed to push things just a little further. “Will we have to make a trip into town each day to get her?” He hoped that this would get a rise out of Anthony. It did.

“That’s an awfully long trip to make each day. There and back I mean.” Anthony leaned forward with anticipation.

“Gotcha,” thought Brock. “This is too easy,” he whispered to himself.

“No she ‘ll stay with us the whole time. We have the Banks’ permission to keep her until she’s finished. We figure a week, but you never know. We have some fine seamstresses at the estate, but Mary is truly remarkable. We’ll keep her at long as we need her.”

“May I ask a question?” inquired Brock. His glee concerning the entire situation was about to erupt like lighted powder keg.

“Of course,” returned Lady Osbourne.

“May I have dinner with the family one night? I sure would like to get a closer look at that pretty girl.” Anthony nearly jumped out of his seat as he shot an angry glance at Brock. “Way too easy,” thought Brock as he turned his gaze from Anthony in order to keep from bursting out with laughter. The foreman averted his gaze from the Scotsman to keep from the other from seeing the mischief in his eyes.

Seeing the expression of pure delight on her foreman’s face, Lay Osbourne realized what he was doing. How he knew what was taking place between her and her husband she didn’t know nor did she care to know. As she pondered this thought a grin danced upon her face the instant she understood that she now had an ally in this game. Trying to fight the laughter that was about to burst forth from her like a broken dam, the noblewoman struggled to make a coherent sentence but it took several failed attempts before she was able to speak. “I’ve thought about inviting all the foremen up to the mansion for dinner one day.”

“The sooner the better…” His mistress cut him off before he could finish.

Snapping her fingers, she asked, “How about her first night?”

“I’d be delighted and so would the rest of the foremen,” piped Brock. He and the mistress shared a malicious grin as each realized that he or she now had a partner in the conspiracy that was now being cooked up between the two. The foreman’s grin widened even more as he became engulf with the plans he was conceiving in order to mentally torture the Scotsmen.

It had been nearly three years since Anthony had become the foreman of Lord Osbourne’s plantation. It was a cool day for mid-June and Anthony was pleased. Clouds lingered in the distance, but they were not threatening. The sun was shining, and a cool breeze blew across the valley. “It is the perfect day to travel,” he thought.

It was Wednesday, and in the summer that meant going to town for supplies. It was around nine o’clock in the morning, and he had been up for several hours. He had been planning this trip all morning and he was glad that it was such a pleasant day. The men were in better spirits during a cool day and that suited him just fine. If they were happy, things would go smoothly and that was how he liked it.

Lord Osbourne had given him his usual list, but today he had also given him something different. He asked him to run by the Banks’s dress shop and see if the fabric Lady Osbourne had ordered from Philadelphia had arrived.

Rebecca, Lord Osbourne’s oldest daughter, was going to be sixteen years-old in a couple of months, and Lady Osbourne had been getting ready for her “Coming Out Ball” since Becky turned fifteen. Special china and a pewter punch bowl had been ordered all the way from London. Rose bushes and other types of flowers had been planted over the last couple of years so that everything would be perfect when Becky reached the age when suitors would begin their pursuit of the young lady.

Becky was a striking young woman. She inherited her mother’s beauty and her father’s gentle touch. She had reddish-brown hair, soft white skin, and a disarming smile that seemed to light up an entire room. All these combined to make her beautiful, but the thing that set Becky apart from other beauties was here eyes. They were huge and thus were the dominant feature about her. When she looked at a person, her eyes commanded attention. She seemed to have the ability to look deep within the soul of a person and pull something wonderful and good from the onlooker. That characteristic made her very popular with whomever she met.

Anthony thought about pursuing her, but knew her father would never allow such a thing to happen. Although Lord Osbourne liked and admired Anthony, he would always be a Scotsman and thus a second-class citizen to the Englishman. Lord Osbourne would disown his daughter were she to marry anyone other than a proper English gentleman.

As the wagons were leaving the plantation, Lady Osbourne called to the Scotsman. “Anthony”. He turned in his seat to face her. “Be sure to stop by Banks’s dress shop.” He nodded his head in recognition of her request. “Make sure you check on the fabric and see if he has a seamstress that he’ll rent out over the next month.” He waved to Lady Osbourne to show that he understood.
As the two watched the wagons in the distance, Lord Osbourne stood there with his arm around his wife. He knew that this was the beginning of the end of his vision of his little girl. Though she was nearly sixteen, he still saw Becky as not much more than a toddler. He prayed that the material wouldn’t be there. He somehow thought that were the material not there, then his daughter would stay a child a little while longer. He had convinced himself that if she never had her party then she would never grow older. He knew that was silly, but part of him yearned for it was true.

He had been to town several times since his wife placed the order, but he had never stopped by the dress shop to see if it had arrived. He knew his wife would be angry if she found out, but he couldn’t bear to go to the shop. Once during church, he and his wife sat next to the Banks family. During a brief intercession, his wife had asked Mrs. Banks if the fabric had arrived. Lord Osbourne nearly fainted. He went to chastise her but Mrs. Banks spoke before he had his chance. She told Lady Osbourne that the fabric had not arrived. Lord Osbourne was so relieved that he forgot to address his wife’s breach of protocol.

Once the wagons were out of sight, Lady Osbourne turned to her husband and asked, “William, do you think the material has arrived?”

“It’s hard to say,” he lied. “It could take a few more weeks,” he hoped with all of his soul. “You know how things are. If the material doesn’t arrive before Becky’s birth…”

“William Benjamin, how could you say such a thing?” With that, she harrumphed and left without saying another word.

There lay William’s dilemma in a nutshell. He wanted to please his wife and daughter. He knew that they were both looking forward to the party. His daughter was looking forward to being presented as a woman and his wife wanted to see the envy on everyone’s face when they saw how incredibly beautiful her daughter truly was. William merely wanted it all to go away.

He felt that his daughter was too young to have suitors. His wife tried to explain to him on several occasions that she was only seventeen when she married him, and he was but nineteen. “Things were different back then,” he said. “People grew up faster. They were more mature when we were growing up. Look at her, she’s still a child.”

Whenever he started the “she’s only a child” speech, Lady Osbourne would roll her eyes and leave him alone. She knew she could not win that argument, but she also knew that William was too much of a gentleman to stop the party. Therefore, she knew she’d win in the end.

The trip to town was a wonderful experience for Anthony. A cool breeze blew through the valley and the sun was not too hot. It would have been a perfect day for a picnic, but he had work to do. Visions of swimming in the creek or having lunch by it would not escape his head no matter how hard he tried to force them to leave. The day was too glorious for work, and he was glad he had the trip to town as a diversion.

He had his itinerary planned for the day. He would stop in at Kampfhammer’s and talk to him for a while. While the list was being filled, he would go by the inn and have some lunch, and then he would go by the dress shop and see if the material had arrived. After that, he would pay Kamfhammer and head back to the plantation.

He appreciated these trips to town. They allowed him time to think and plan his future. He envisioned himself having a large plantation one of these days. He was convinced that he knew how to run it. His only concern was finding the right spot. He had heard that there was plenty of land for the taking in the western parts of Virginia and the Highlands of the Carolinas. His dream was to be a land gentry like Lord Osbourne, and he believed he had what it took to do just that.

He had managed to save nearly a hundred pounds in sterling since he started working with Lord Osbourne. He knew were he to combine this with the supplies Lord Osbourne usually gave to those who left his service after fulfilling their contractual obligation, he would have more than enough resources to start his own place.

Once his contract was up, he was going to take Thomas with him, and they were going to head west until they found the perfect spot to start their own plantation. He already had a name picked out for his estate. He was going to call it “The Highlander’s Revenge.”

In just a few short years, he had gone from wanted outlaw to plantation foreman. He possessed the ability to read and was gifted with numbers. He figured that with a little luck, he would be a wealthy squire before he died. He would train his children to follow in his footsteps and in a couple of generations; they would have one of the largest plantations in all the Colonies.

He daydreamed and fantasized about his future the whole trip. Normally, he would drink in the beauty of the surroundings, but today he let his mind run wild. As a result, he lost all track of time. It seemed as though the trip to town was only a few minutes rather than a couple of hours. It wasn’t until he was within a mile of town that he realized he had wasted the whole trip on daydreams. As they approached town, he looked at his driver and said, “I cannot believe we are here already.”

“What have you been thinking about?” questioned the driver. “You’ve been lost in your own world for the past two hours. I have noticed you sitting there. You had a big grin on your face. I thought you were thinking on a girl. Nothing else would make me that happy. What were you thinking about?”

“The sweetest girl in the world.”

“Who is this lass? If a girl could make you that happy, then I’d really like to see her.

“She’s not a girl you can look at.”

“Then what kinda girl is she?”

Anthony looked at the driver. It was obvious from his expression, that the man was puzzled. He didn’t understand where Anthony was going with his story, but he was interested in finding out. “Is she some one from your past?”

“My future.”

“How can you know someone from your future?”

“This lady isn’t a someone, but a something.”

“What is she then?” Anthony had now thoroughly sparked his curiosity and he was determined to find out what made his companion so happy.

“Her name is Freedom!” Anthony had not meant to, but he shouted. His companion took a deep knowing breath, let it out and smiled at the Highlander.

“Never was there a more beautiful lass as that one,” returned the driver. “She’s a fine girl I yearn to embrace as well. But, unlike you, I have several years to go on me contract. Yours is less than two years.”

“Barely a year.” I’ve already started counting the days. The day after my contract is up; Thomas and I are heading to the western parts of the Colony. We’ll start our own plantation.

“That’s the life. No one to tell you what to do or when to do it. That’s the one thing I am looking to the most.”

“Me to! Me to. Freedom sure is one lovely word, is she not?”

“The most beautiful word in the world. I love the sound of it. I could hear it over and over again and never tire of it. Freedom. Freedom! Freedom,” shouted the driver. Each time the word got louder. “’Tis a wonderful word indeed. I yearn for the day I get mine.”

“It’ll come soon enough,” agreed Anthony.

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have five more years to go like I do. I don’t know how you made it this long. I think you’re a better man than me. I struggle every day, just to keep from going nuts. I don’t see how you made it this long.”

“It has been hard, but Lord Osbourne has been a wonderful master. He’s never said a cross word to me nor has he ever treated me unfairly. I’ve been and you should consider yourself lucky to have had your contract bought by him.”

“I do, but this still ain’t freedom.”

“I know, but it’s all we have. I believe in making the most of what you got. It’ll help you get through the tough times. It sure worked for me.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I still have a long way to go before I am finished. I don’t believe that I can hold out that long.”

“You’ll make it.”

“How do you know that?”

“What other choice do you have? If you run away and are caught, you’ll be whipped and sold. Believe me; you don’t want to have some one else owning your contract.”

“That’s only if I’m caught.” Anthony looked at the driver and started to rebuff him but held his tongue. “I don’t believe they would catch me. If I made it to the western regions of the Colonies they would never find me.”

“You wouldn’t get ten miles before they caught you. Then you’d regret the day you were born.”

“They’d never catch me. I can guarantee you that.”

“You’re talking crazy talk,” sniped Anthony. “Now hush up before I get upset! I don’t want to hear such foolishness!” Anthony was upset and therefore indignant to the other man. “What’s he thinking,” thought Anthony. Clearly, this man had gotten his mind skewed.

Anthony assumed that the driver had already started a plan of escape. He hoped that the man’s good sense would overcome stupidity, but he didn’t believe it. He knew that the driver was soon going to make the biggest mistake of his life. He wondered if the other man would live to regret his decision. He doubted it, but hoped for the best. Stupid people had a habit of falling on bad luck. He figured that one followed the other just like intelligence and good luck often went hand in hand.

The wagon pulled up beside Kampfhammer’s store. The rotund man was sitting on a bench on the porch of his establishment. He was going over a list of something. When the wagons pulled up to the front of the store, he looked up from his paper and smiled at Anthony. “Velcome my Scottizh friend,” he said as he stood up to greet the men.

“How are you on this beautiful day?” inquired Anthony as he returned the man’s smile.

“It iz alwayz goot to zee ye” piped Kampfhammer. “Doezt ye have a lizt for me?”

Anthony reached in his leather pouch and pulled out a sheet of paper that had a rather long list on it. “How long do you think it will take to fill this order?”

“Two, tree hourz. Are ye in a hurry? If zo, ve can try to move az quickly az pozzible.”

“No, I am in no hurry, but I would like a time frame to plan my activities. I’ve got a lot of things to do and need to know how long it’s going to take so I can be back here on time.”

“Givez uz tree hourz and ve vill have ta itemz for ye.”

“Good. I’ll be back in about three hours.” With that, Anthony gave Kampfhammer the list and dismissed the men. He then turned back to Kampfhammer and said, “I’m going to be at the following places today.” He then proceeded to name off the inn, the blacksmith, the potshare, and the dress shop. “If you need me, I’ll be in one of those places.” Mr. Kampfhammer shook his head in acknowledgement. Then he turned and entered the store to begin filling the list.

The inn was less crowded than it usually was at this time of day. Anthony entered the room and took the first table he came to. He sat in the seat and leaned back until only the back legs of the chair were still on the floor. From this position, he began to stretch his legs and back. He had been doing this for about two minutes when a short burly man walked over to him.

“What’ll you have?” the man asked. His voice was rough and had a sarcastic tone to it.

“Excuse me?” returned Anthony.

“What’ll you have?” questioned the man for a second time. This time his voice was even gruffer than the first time. “Ain’t got all day. What’ll you have?”

“What do you have to offer,” responded Anthony in an equally harsh voice as he began looking over the man. His face was not scowled, and he didn’t appear to be hostile. Anthony figured the man must be this way, and that he meant no personal offense to the Scotsman. Anthony had known several members of his clan that came across as being hateful or mean even though they were the nicest of people. He decided that he would give this man the benefit of the doubt.

“Let’s see,” said the man as he began to name off the list. He knitted his eyes as he began to review the menu in his head. “We have chicken and dumplings, roasted pork and lamb stew.”

“Do you have any vegetables to go with that?”

The man smiled sheepishly when he realized he hadn’t given Anthony the full menu. “The chicken has squash and the pork has cabbage. I think that’s all. I’ll have to study on it to be sure.”

The man’s accent betrayed him. Anthony had been in the Colonies long enough to recognize the speech of a native Colonial. This man had been born and raised here. Perhaps, that had to be the reason for his roughish manner.

“Let’s see,” said Anthony as he pondered his choices. “I like your lamb stew, but I had that last night. Pork doesn’t agree with me. I guess I’ll have the chicken and dumplings. I’d also like a mug of drink, some butter and sugar to go with that and a loaf of bread with some cheese.”

“Only cheese we got is goat cheese.”

“That’ll do.”

“I’ll be back directly,” said the man. He shrugged his shoulders, turned and left.

While he was waiting on his meal, Anthony looked around the room. There were approximately twenty tables in the inn. Only four tables were being used. The first table he saw had four men waiting on their food. They were talking and laughing about some event that had taken place, but Anthony did not catch the details on that.

The second table had three men who were too busy eating to fool with talking. All three of the men seemed to be eating the lamb stew. As Anthony looked at them, the one to his left seemed to be shoveling in his food. It seemed as that he hadn’t swallowed his previous morsel before he’d put the next bite into his mouth. The one to Anthony’s right was eating slowly. He seemed to relish every bite and took his time to enjoy each little morsel. The one that sat between the other two and was facing Anthony appeared to be trying to cool his stew. He would blow on it and every few seconds he would stick his finger in his plate to check the temperature of his food. He finally took a bite but only after several turns of blowing on the food and sticking his finger into it.

The third occupied table was next to the fireplace. The lone man sitting at it had long finished eating and was now resting his head against the chimney and trying to sleep. The only other occupied table was Anthony’s.

By the time he finished scanning the room, the rough man was coming towards Anthony. He had a plate that contained cheese, butter and some brown sugar. He also carried a large tankard of rum. “Here you go,” he said. This time he was actually smiling. “I’ll bring your food out in a minute.”

“Thank you,” returned Anthony. The man looked at Anthony. The expression he wore was a cross between puzzlement, confusion and delight.

“What?” The man perplexed Anthony.

“Nothing,” returned the man. “I just never heard anybody say that before.”

“Say what before?”

“Thanks.”

“You’re joking?”

“No. Most people don’t even look at you. They just accept the food and begin eating. Usually they never say another word after that. Some’ll just drop the money on the table and never give you a second glance unless they have change coming back. If they do expect change, they won’t take their eyes off you until you’ve accounted for every penny owed them. After that, they usually grunt and go back to eating or talking. They never even say, ‘hello.’”

“Maybe they think they’re not supposed to talk to you. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe they’re afraid of getting you in trouble with your master. There could be millions of reasons. That’s something to think about. Maybe they don’t mean to be rude, but think they’re actually doing you a favor.”

“That doesn’t make sense at all. My boss is Jeremiah Shepherd and he is the nicest man I know. He loves to talk to his customers, and he encourages us to do that as well. Why would he be against me talking to his customers? Don’t you agree?”

“I see your point, and I’m not trying to argue with you. I was merely pointing out some possible answers for your question. I don’t know why the customers don’t talk to you. I’ve never really thought about it to be perfectly honest with you.”

“Why did you talk to me?”

“Excuse me?” The question caught Anthony off guard and he didn’t know how to react to it. He asked his question strictly as a delaying tactic because he didn’t have an answer, but he thought this might give him time to think of something. It worked, because it delayed the burly man’s inquiry long enough for the Highlander to get his bearing.

“I asked why you talked to me. Very few people who come into this inn even notice I exist let alone talk to me. Most only find me a nuisance to be tolerated long enough to get their food or drink, but you actually acknowledged me and spoke to me. That’s truly rare. I was curious to know why you did that when no one else does.”

“Maybe, I’m weird. I don’t know why. I wasn’t raised to be rude. Maybe I am just acting the way my clan taught me to act.”

“I’ll agree with you when you say you are the odd one. I believe that. But, you are odd in a different, good, kinda way. I personally wish everybody was as odd as you.” The man laughed and said, “I’ve taken up too much of your time. Enjoy your meal and thanks again.”

“You’re welcome.” Anthony took the spoon in his hand and started to take a bite, but instead shrugged his shoulders and began to laugh. His laugh was a short silly silent soul-cleansing laugh. Even though he was laughing hysterically inside, only the sound of a short burst of air could be heard coming from him.

He tilted his head to his left, scooped up a spoon of dumplings and tried to make sense of the past couple of minutes. Unable to figure out what just happened, he laughed to himself one more time and then tried to put the incident out of his mind. He was unsuccessful at doing that. “Take it as a compliment,” he said to himself. “The man meant it that way.” Still he was overwhelmed with a total realization of how unnatural the last few minutes had been.

After he finished his meal, Anthony sat there pondering what he wanted to do next. He figured that he had a two may be two and a half-hours left before the wagons would be loaded. He also knew that there would be another thirty to forty-five minutes before the rest of the men showed up to leave. He decided that since he was dreading it so badly, he’d go to the dress shop first and get it over with so it wouldn’t spend the rest of his time fretting over it. He hoped the material was in, that way he wouldn’t have to worry about it the next time he came to town.

The potshard happened to be on the way to the dress shop. As he passed by the store, Anthony thought, I might as well go in, since this on the way. He noticed a rotund woman standing behind the counter when he entered the store. The establishment seemed to be in disarray. It appeared to him that every item had not been placed so much as strewn were it lain. There seemed to be some organization to the place because he noticed various sections that had certain types of items. He noticed a section straight ahead that contained nothing but iron or copper pots. To his left, was pottery and to the right were wooden items. Other than that, the place was a mess. Lady Osbourne had asked Anthony to pick up a pewter punchbowl, but as far as he could tell, no such items existed in this place.

The heavy woman was eating something when he entered the room. She noticed him when he entered, but she never spoke a word to him. She was too busy enjoying the items on her plate to worry about him. She figured he’d get around to finding what he needed sooner or later.

Anthony went to the section that contained the metal items. He began to rummage through them hoping to find the large decorative pewter punchbowl. He searched for several minutes, but found nothing of the kind. Unsure what to do next, he walked over to the counter and asked, “Do you have any pewter punchbowls?”

“One,” returned the fat lady, “but it ain’t for sale. I’m saving it for someone.”

“Who are you saving it for? I’m sure my owner would be willing to pay top dollar for it.”

“Probably would, but I’ve promised this punchbowl to someone, and I ain’t aiming to break my promise.”

“I’m not asking you to break your word. I really need a pewter punchbowl.”

“I can’t help you with that one, but I can give you the name of the craftsman in Blacksburg what built this one. How soon do you need it? It shouldn’t take him two weeks to make a new one. Have the time?”

“I believe so. Miss Osbourne’s ‘Coming Out Ball’ isn’t until the middle of August. I think we have enough time to get another one made if we have to. I guess we’ll get by, if need be…”

“Wait a minute,” interrupted the woman. “Did you say you’re a needing this punchbowl for Lady and Lord Osbourne?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll be a suck egg dog,” she said and then began to laugh. “You ain’t going to b’lieve this, but that’s who I was a holding this here bowl for. If’n you work for Lord Osbourne, the punchbowl is yours for fifteen shillings.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. I charge everybody else, twenty shillings, but I owe Lord Osbourne a favor. I’m giving it to him for ‘xactly what I got in her.”

“Thank you.” He was surprised by the woman’s change in demeanor.

“That’s all right. Nothing’s too good for Lord Osbourne.”

Anthony reached in his pouch and counted out fifteen shillings. The woman was hesitant to take them at first, but after debating herself for several seconds; she took the money. She wiped her greasy hands on her dress and pulled out from under the counter the finest punchbowl Anthony had ever seen.

“It shore is nice. Ain’t it?” A large smile swept across her face.

“It sure is,” returned Anthony and they were both right. The craftsmanship was incredible. Anthony admired the man’s work. The designs were smooth and flowing and bowl shined as well as pewter could. It truly was designed to be a centerpiece for a fine home. This bowl was a work of art.

He gently picked up the bowl. It was so well designed he feared he might hurt it. He wasn’t the only one that felt that way for the woman said, “Careful,” when he picked up the bowl.

“I’ll have to drive all the way home with this thing sitting in my lap,” said Anthony. They both tried but failed to laugh at his remark. “Thank you,” Anthony said as he tucked the basin under his arm. He then he turned to leave.

“One thing before you go,” called the woman.

“What?”

“Would you make sure that Lord Osbourne knows that he got this at a discount as a favor to him?”

“I sure will.” Without saying another word, Anthony turned and left the store.

“I bet she owes him a favor,” thought Anthony. “She’s too worried about him knowing about it for this to be just a friendly act.” As he pondered what favor Lord Osbourne had done for this lady, he made his way to the dress shop. He decided that he would make it a point to find out what it was that Lord Osbourne had over this woman. Satisfied with his thoughts, he let the subject drop, but not before making a mental note to investigate the woman a little further.

Within a few minutes, Anthony was at the dress shop. He didn’t want to be there, but he had given his word and he was not going to break that. He knew Lord Osbourne would be disappointed if the material came in, but he would still ask.

Taking a deep breath as if dreading to proceed, he entered the store secretly hoping that no one would see him. That way he could get in and out as quickly as possible. He didn’t like going into the dress shop but he was going to make sure that he could look the mistress in the eye when he got home and she asked if had stopped to see the seamstress. She had treated him well and he was not about to lie to her.

Scanning the room as he entered, he didn’t see anyone at first, so he thought to turn and leave, but thought better of it. He scanned the room thoroughly a second time and noticed movement in the far right corner of the shop. Whoever it was, they had not heard him enter. “Is anyone here?” he shouted.

“Yes,” returned a female voice. “May I help you?” The lady had apparently been working on a dress and had been hidden from Anthony’s view. Upon hearing his voice, she stood to see who it was.

The voice came from the direction in which Anthony had earlier seen the movement. He looked in that direction but his view was obstructed by a partially completed dress that hung between him and the voice. Upon hearing her response, Anthony began to state that he had been asked to check on some fabric by Lady Osbourne.

“Yes, I came by to check to see if some material had arrived for…” Anthony cut himself off in mid-sentence. As he was speaking, he saw the woman for the first time as she made her way towards him. As he watched her approach, he was stunned into silence by her beauty and grace.

She was a vision of heaven. The lady was a young; at the very most, she was maybe, nineteen. She was a tiny little thing and couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred pounds. Although she was barely over five feet, the way she carried herself made her look taller. Blessed with long brown hair, dark brown eyes and golden skin, she was a magnificent sight to see. There was something about way she moved towards him forced Anthony to shake with excitement. She walked as if on air. Her head was high and she projected a sense of regality that made her all the more desirable to the Scotsman.

“What were you expecting to arrive?” asked the comely young lady.

Moved by her beauty, he hadn’t heard a word she had said. “Anthony,” he stammered. “My name is Anthony.”

“I don’t know of any type of material called ‘Anthony’,” she returned. She began to laugh at her own joke. Embarrassed by his own ineptitude, Anthony began to laugh as well even though he didn’t understand why he was laughing. All he knew was that this vision was laughing, and that made him happy, so he laughed as hard as he had ever laughed in his life.

“Now, what were you seeking?” asked the young lady after the laughter had started to fad.

“What was I seeking,” repeated Anthony. Try as he might, he was having difficulty concentrating on just what it was he had come to the dress shop to get. He stood there silent for a minute as he tried to think of it, but he couldn’t. His mind was fixed solely on the young lady now standing only inches from him. He wanted desperately to reach out and kiss her, but he knew that would be inappropriate. Still he could think of nothing else but her and how she made him feel.

Did she find him as attractive as he found her? Was she married? Did she have a man? What could he say to impress her? What was she like? Would she like him? Did she want to kiss him? These and dozens of other questions raced through Anthony’s mind over the next few seconds.

He wanted to scream with delight. At this particular second, he was the happiest man on earth, and he wanted to announce it to the entire world. The only thought on his mind was that he had to get to know this girl, and she had to come love him. Nothing else would be acceptable to him. His very soul desired to capture her essence and would allow nothing less than her total surrender to his charm. He began to formulate a plan that would allow him to get to know this girl. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew that one of these days he was going to marry this woman.

“You know what,” said Anthony. “I forgot what I was seeking when I came in here. I’m sorry, but if you’ll give me a minute, I’ll figure it out.” He lowered his head and began to knit his eyebrows, as he stood there lost in thought. He tried several times to think what it was but failed each time. His mind kept racing back to the girl.

“You said something about fabric and Anthony. I believe that’s correct?”

Anthony snapped his fingers as if he had been hit by an epiphany. “That’s it. I know what I’m here to get.”

“What?” asked the young woman? Her voice rang with excitement.

“Those were two different sentences combined into one.”

“What was?” Now the young woman was completely lost. She looked at him with a blank expression on her face. He laughed and began to explain.

“First of all,” he said, “my name is Anthony.”

“Anthony, is it?” There was a coylishly playful tone to the girl’s voice. She looked at him and smiled sheepishly but quickly let it fade. He wanted to explode with delight when he saw her smile. Unable to hide his excitement, he stood there smiling like a drunken fool. When the girl returned his smile, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“I’m Mary. Mary Bentley.” Never had Anthony heard a sweeter sound than that. “Mary Bentley, Mary Bentley.” He kept repeating that name over and over in his mind. “It has to mean angel on earth,” he thought.

“Glad to meet you, Mary.” He reached out his hand to shake hers, but then he realized what he was doing and quickly pulled it back to him. “What were you thinking?” he thought to himself. “Don’t do something that stupid again!” He stood there silently cursing himself for his own awkwardness. Unsure of what else to do, he tried to keep the conversation going. He wanted to hear her talk. To him, her voice was as sweet as that of an angel.

“I’ve come to check on some material that Lady Osbourne had ordered,” he stammered and stumbled across his words. “She was hoping it would be in today. Is it?”

“Yes and no.” Mary paused for a response from Anthony. When none came, she continued. “Lady Osbourne had ordered six different types of material. Three came in and we are expecting the other three to be delivered next week. Was there any particular fabric you were looking for at this time?

“I’ve got it,” Mary said as she snapped her fingers in recollection. “You are looking for the material Lady Osbourne ordered for Miss Becky’s birthday dance, aren’t you? She ordered three different types of material and only one of the three has arrived. I can get it for you.

“Stay right there.” Mary pointed her finger at Anthony and headed to a room located off to her left. A couple of minutes later she returned with three rolls of material. A yellowish one was under her right arm. Her left arm held one lavender roll and one greenish roll.

“Here you go,” she said as she laid the rolls on top of the counter. “This is one of rolls she ordered for Miss Becky.” Mary gently rubbed the lavender material across he face. “It’s as soft as an angel’s breath. Would you like to feel it?”

Anthony wanted more than anything to put his face where she had just touched. “Yes,” he said as he fought to keep from running to the counter. Catching himself in mid-stride, he forced himself to slowly walk over to where she was standing.

“Feel this,” she said as she touched the material to his face. Anthony shuddered with delight. Never had a woman made his heart race the way it was currently beating. Anthony had had girlfriends in the past and even went as far a kissing a couple of them, which was grounds for marriage in some areas of Scotland, but he had never felt this way about a girl. It felt as though his very life depended on being near this woman.

His emotions ran the gamut as she gently raked the material across his face. He felt everything from burning desire for the girl to extreme fear that she may already have a man. It took all of his strength to keep himself grabbing her and planting a passionate kiss on her. That would be the wrong thing to do and he knew it, but his heart was desperately trying to overrule his mind and nearly won on several occasions. Still, his better sense managed to prevail by convincing him that a rash action would lead to disaster.

“Are you married?” he unintentionally blurted out as she removed the material from his face. Shocked by what he had just said, Anthony tried to apologize but became tongue-tied and managed to blurt out only unintelligible mumblings. His face became crimson red the second he uttered that question.

“You idiot,” he thought to himself. “You’ve blown it now.”

“No,” she said and then laughed aloud. Her laugh was a combination of both hopefulness and fear. She laughed for several seconds longer than she should have. Eventually, he joined her to cover his embarrassment. In the middle of her laughter, she stopped, drew a serious face and without batting an eyelash asked, “Are you interested?”

“Yes,” screamed Anthony as his heart filled with delight. At that instant, he knew he had blown it. Unsure how to recover from his previous statement, he reversed course and babbled, “No,” as he tried once again to hide his embarrassment. At that instant, he began to silently curse himself for he considered himself to be the biggest fool in history.

“Too bad, I was,” said Mary.

Anthony’s mouth flew open and he nearly passed out from a combination of anger with himself and delight with Mary. “Me too,” was all he could muster before they both started laughing again. This time the laughter was not as tense as it had previously been.

“Are you a member of the Banks clan?” asked Anthony.

“The Banks don’t have a clan,” returned Mary. They’re Colonials and not from Scotland as you obviously are. I, myself, am from Ireland. My family’s been there for generations. We’re from County…”

“I’m a Highlander,” Anthony interrupted. He didn’t intend to be rude. He was so excited to be talking to Mary that he blurted out the first thing that popped in his mind and he would have kept going had Mary cut him off before he could gather up a head of steam.

“And are all Scotsmen this rude?”

“No.” That remark had stunned him, but only for a split second because he was too busy trying to think of things that he had seen or did that might impress this girl. His sole goal at that point was to get her to thinking he was the greatest thing on earth. “Why’d you ask?”

“Where I’m from a gentleman let’s a lady finish her thoughts before he interrupts her in mid-sentence.”

“I didn’t do that,” stammered Anthony. He didn’t know whether to apologize for being rude or to deny the accusation altogether.

“You didn’t?” she asked. Her voice was a cross between feigned outrage and surprise. She put her hands on her hips and pretended to struggled to keep her composure. “Then were am I from?”

“Ireland, of course.”

“What county?” Her voice had a smooth all knowing “See, I told you so,” ring in it. She smiled as she watched him struggle to come up with it. She could tell that he was visibly taken aback by the question. A devious smile swept across her face as she watched him struggle to come up with an answer to her question.

“I don’t know,” he said. His voice had lost some of the edge it had possessed before her question. She had caught him off guard with the question and she knew it. Now she was going to pummel him until she had ground him into mush.

“You don’t,” she asked. “Are you sure?” He shrugged his shoulders. Moving in for the kill, she said the following. “It surprises me that you didn’t know. I figured you knew everything. Wouldn’t everybody assume that since you stopped me when I was talking? Why, it’s obvious that you already knew what I was going to say or otherwise you would’ve let me finish. But, you didn’t, why?” Anthony stood there like a wounded pup and Mary knew she had him. “Is it because you’re rude?” He gave no answer. “Well, is it?” She knew she had won, but she still wanted to punish him some more just for good measure. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

He looked in her eyes and she saw that she had gone too far with her verbal barrage. She had overstepped putting him in place and had crossed over into vileness. The expression he now wore on his face caused her pain and she regretted being too aggressive with him.

“Yes,” said Anthony very meekly. “I was rude.” Without saying another word, he turned to exit the store. Never in his life had he felt so totally rejected by a woman and this confused him deeply because it was a new experience for him. In less than five minutes, he had experience everything from desire to hope and from defeat to desperation. He wanted nothing more than to leave that building with as much of his dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. Having been completely humiliated, his only desire had been to impress this beauty and he felt as though he had just blown the opportunity.

“She must hate me,” he thought. “I’ll not put her through any more of this.” Walking over to the door, he opened it, took a deep breath and tried to smile as he began to exit the store.

As he was about to leave, Mary called after him. “Anthony, please don’t go.”

“Why not?” he asked as he turned to face her. “It’s obvious I’ve been nothing but a nuisance to you. It wasn’t my intent. I’m sorry.”

“But, you haven’t!”

“Then why did you just attack me the way you just did? I didn’t mean to provoke you. It’s best if I leave. I’m truly sorry.” He turned again to exit.

This time she ran over to where he was. “Please don’t go,” she pleaded. He was both shocked and pleased with her reaction. “Please, talk to me.” With those words, he nearly jumped out of his skin with delight.

They spent the next two hours talking. No one entered the shop and they had no other distractions. It was just the two them and that was the way they wanted it. Each talked about their hopes and dreams. Mary’s was to be a wife, mother and seamstress. Anthony’s was to be a plantation owner. They assured each other that they would reach their goals. After two hours, he had to leave, but he assured her he’d be back next Wednesday. She stated that she was looking forward to it.

The trip home went just as quick as the trip to town. Anthony’s behavior was the same way coming home as it had been going to town. The driver assumed Anthony was still dreaming of freedom so he left the Scotsman alone. That suited the highlander just fine. He was too busy thinking about Mary to be bothered with anything else.

Lord and Lady Osbourne were not at the plantation when the convoy arrived. They had to attend a social function for another family. Anthony was glad for that. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. When he arrived, he entered the mansion and gave one of the women the three rolls of material and the pewter bowl. After that, he went back to the foreman’s cabin to be alone.

That night was the first time since the accident, that Anthony had gone to bed without stopping to see Thomas. As a result, Thomas didn’t sleep well that night. Afraid that something had happened to his cousin, the big man moaned and groaned all night. The noise became to be so loud one of the servants had to go get Anthony in order to comfort the gentle giant.

“When the servant arrived, she noticed that a light was on in Anthony’s cabin and that he was still awake. He was too excited to sleep. He was sitting in a chair reminiscing about the day’s events when the servant knocked on his door.

“Yes,” he called.

The servant lady responded from outside the door. “Mr. Anthony, I’m real sorry for calling on you at such a late hour, but it’s Thomas.”

“What about him?” asked a now frightened Anthony. He jumped up out of his chair and raced to open the door. “Is he hurt?”

“No,” returned the servant lady. “He can’t sleep. He’s afraid something happened to you, because you never stopped in to see him.”

Anthony laughed. “I forgot. Is he all right?”

“Just scared.”

“I’m coming.” Anthony grabbed his hat and followed the woman to the mansion. When he got there, Thomas was wide-awake and sitting up in his bed.

“Ant’ny,” said the big man. “You didn’t stop to see me. I was scared. I was scared you got hurt.”

“I’m fine.” Anthony walked over and began to pat his cousin on the arm.

The big man cupped Anthony’s hand in his and said, “I’ll be all right.”

“I’m sorry,” said Anthony. “I forgot, but I promise that won’t happen again.”

Satisfied, Thomas smiled and rolled over in his bed. “I’ll go to sleep now.” He pulled the covers up over his head. “Night Ant’ny.”

“Good night,” returned Anthony as he and the servant left the room.