Rick Hall Fiction

The ball lasted well past midnight even though it was the general custom to stop at eleven the party continued despite the breach of protocol. One by one, the revelers began to leave. It started out as a trickle, but became a torrent just before midnight. As they departed, the head of each group of party goers would stop and praise Lady Osbourne on the job she had done. They all swore that is had been the best ball they had ever had the privilege of attending. Many went as far as saying that it may have been the best such event in the history of the Virginia Colony.

This pleased Lady Osbourne to no end. She had set out to make this the greatest party in the history of the Colony, and she was reasonably sure she had accomplished just that. The entire evening, except for the snit with Mrs. Banks, had been an unrelenting success.

The entire event went off without a hitch. Bessie’s cooking had been first rate, the dresses were exquisite, William had been the perfect host, and the music was better than any she had ever heard. The actual party was even better than she had imagined.

It was one o’clock in the morning when the last guest left. That man a lawyer that would have left earlier, but William detained him in the hopes of talking him into making an apprentice of Joseph. The lawyer didn’t object, but he was curious as to why Lord Osbourne didn’t teach Joseph the trade since he was a barrister. Lord Osbourne declined due to lack of time. That wasn’t his real reason the Englishman didn’t want to teach his son the trade. His real reason for not want his son as an apprentice is because William understood that he would be too demanding of his son. It took some convincing but the man eventually agreed to allow Joseph to spend five years working for him and reading the law. Part of the reason the barrister agreed to the contract was so he could see the more of the lovely Rebecca. Once the two lawyers settled on the terms, they spent the rest of the night drawing up a contract to spell out their obligations.

After all the guests had left, Lord Osbourne dismissed the staff and sent the children to bed. Prior to dismissing the staff, William instructed Bessie to tell the rest of the staff that they could sleep in late the next day. Bessie began to protest by stating that she had a million things to do, but he assured her he was giving an order and not making a suggestion. The heavyset woman smiled her approval, which widen when he smiled back at her.

When there was no one left but him and his wife, William walked over to where she was standing and hugged her. His hug was both an admission of defeat about his concerns and recognition of her complete success. “You did it,” he said to his wife as he let go of her. As they parted, he looked her in the eye and said, “It went according to plan.”

“Did you ever doubt it?”

His jaw dropped in shock. This did not escape her attention. “What?” she asked even though she already knew the answer to her question. Without saying a word, she shook her head as if to indicate she was in the dark as to the reason for his reaction.

William didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry; he chose to laugh. That was the response she was hoping to elicit from her husband. When she joined in with him, it only added to his laughter. Their voices began to grow louder until they filled the whole room with the sound of their merriment.

“I am too excited to sleep,” Lady Osbourne said to her husband. “Would you like to go for a walk? I need to burn off some of this pent up energy, or I’ll never get to sleep.”

“I know exactly how you feel. Grab your shawl, and we’ll walk through the orchard.”

She smiled and obeyed his request.

They had been in the orchard about twenty minutes when they noticed that someone was walking straight towards them. “Who could that be at this hour?” she asked.

“I haven’t the foggiest. I assumed everyone was in bed but you and me.”

“So did I. It appears we’re about to find out who it is because he’s making a beeline right for us.”

“Hello,” shouted Lord Osbourne. His call was both an invitation and a warning to the approaching man. Not knowing who was out there, the Englishman was being extremely cautious. “One can never be too cautious in this day and time,” he thought to himself.

“Lord Osbourne,” came a voice. “Who’s that with you?”

“My wife.” William thought he recognized the ball. “Anthony, is that you?”

“Yes,” came the voice again. This time it was about twenty yards away.

“What are you doing out this late?” questioned William. “Are you alone?”

“Yes,” returned the Highlander. “I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why. I just couldn’t sleep. I’ve been wondering in this orchard for nearly two hours. I’ve covered every inch of it, and I’m still not tired.”

“I know the feeling,” piped Lady Osbourne. Anthony was now beside Lord and Lady Osbourne walking with them as they casually strolled through the orchard.

“What has got you so restless?” asked the Englishman.

“I was thinking about a few things.”

“Such as?” It was Lady Osbourne. She had spoken with Mary about an hour ago and the Irish girl had told her what had taken place between she and Anthony. The Englishwoman was convinced that the main subject of the conversation was going to be the lovely little seamstress.

Anthony stopped walking, looked straight at the nobleman, and asked, “Do you remember when we talked last week about the possibility of my staying on after my contract was up next year?”

“Yes,” returned William, “but you wouldn’t hear of it.”

“If that offer is still on the table, then I’d love to talk about it.” Anthony’s voice was sheepish and deliberate.

Lady Osbourne nearly screamed with delight, but she steadied herself by bracing herself against William’s arm. Everything was going according to plan as far as she was concerned.

“What changed your mind?” asked Lord Osbourne.

“Mary,” injected his wife. Her voice did little to hide her giddiness.

“It’s Mary,” piped a stunned Anthony. “How’d you know?”

“A woman knows these things!”

“What about Mary,” asked William as he tried to feign ignorance.

“Tonight I declared my love for her and I’m still trying to figure out how it all happened.” The Scotsman scratched his head as he searched for an answer.

“Wonderful,” cried the noblewoman as she clapped her hands in delight. “It’s about time!”

“I didn’t mean to,” squeaked Anthony. “I hadn’t intended to say a thing. It just slipped out and now I’m stuck.”

“That’s love for you,” smiled Lord Osbourne.

“Stuck?” inquired the noblewoman.

The Scotsman could hear the indignation in her voice. “How do you get that you’re stuck? Mary’s a wonderful woman, and she’d have hundreds of suitors if she wanted them.”

“I know,” returned Anthony. “I didn’t mean it that way…”

“How did you mean it then?” She was enjoying this. She enjoyed making her the Scotsman twist as he confronted his feelings. Of course, he loved Mary, but she wanted to see if he’d admit it in public. If he did, then he was lost. He’d be married within the year.

“Well,” stammered Anthony terrified that he had said the wrong thing and that it would get back to Mary and that she would be so angry she’d send him away and never see him again. And, that was the one thought that frightened him the most.

“Quit making sport with him,” interrupted William. “It’s obvious to everyone but the victim that he’s in love.”

“I’m not in love,” protested the Scotsman.

Lady Osbourne smiled. “You’re so far gone you’ll never get back. I have never seen a man that far gone. Have you William?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“I’m not in love,” stated Anthony with as much resolve as he could muster. Although he tried to make his voice sound as stern as possible he knew that he had failed.

“Sure,” said William in a patronizing voice just before he and his wife burst into laughter.

“I don’t think that’s so funny,” shouted Anthony.”

“Then we should tell Mary that you don’t love her and that she should find another suitor,” injected Lady Osbourne.

“I didn’t say that,” popped Anthony.

“Then you are in love with Mary?”

“I didn’t say that either! Forget it!” The entire conversation had so angered him that Anthony began walking in another direction just to get away from the other two. Watching him stomp away, the English couple laughed even louder.

Anthony had not gone fifteen yards when Lady Osbourne shouted, “Anthony, if it makes you feel any better, Mary’s in love with you as well.”

Anthony pretended not to hear, but he had heard everything. He stopped dead in his track because his body refused to obey his commands. His body began trembling with excitement and became so excited that he wanted to scream with joy, but was not going to give those two the satisfaction of seeing how he really felt. Therefore, he kept on walking and pretending as though he hadn’t heard a word. When he was far enough away from them so that they wouldn’t hear him, the Scotsman began to giggle uncontrollably. In all of his life, he had never felt as light and as heady as he now felt. “This is what true happiness feels like,” he thought to himself. He did indeed love Mary but he just wasn’t ready to admit that at this time.

Once he made his way back to the cabin, Anthony slipped in so as not to disturb the other two men. Slowly, he peeled off his clothes and then slid into bed but try as he might sleep would not come to him because he was too excited to slumber. After tossing back and forth across his bed for several minutes, he finally fell asleep.

It was well past nine o’clock in the morning when he awoke, sat up in his bed and looked around the room. No one else was around. The other two had made their bed and had left. Before Anthony could begin wondering where the other two had gone, the door opened and Brock entered the room.

“It’s about time you woke up,” the Englishman said. His voice carried a teasing tone to it. “We thought you’d sleep all day. You’ve slept the morning away.”

“What time is it,” asked Anthony.

“Nine-fifteen. “

“Nine-fifteen? You’ve got to be joking!”

“No I’m not. You’ve slept the morning away. We thought you were dead a couple of times there. We even began to make a little noise hoping that it would wake you up, but it didn’t. You didn’t even roll over. You laid there snoring like a baby.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Sure you don’t.” Brock laughed at his own joke. “Hungry?’

“Starved.”

“We’ve been up to the house this morning. We brought back some ham and biscuits that had been left over from last night. It is sitting out there on the table if you want it. The biscuits are a bit hard, but the ham is still good. “

“Any butter?”

“Yes, and some honey and some apple butter. There is also some baked bread if you don’t want any biscuits.”

“Any paw paws?”

“Had some but we ate them.”

Anthony thought about eating but realized he couldn’t because he wasn’t hungry. Hopping out of bed, he rushed to clean up and make himself presentable so he could make a little visit up to the mansion. If all went well, he’d be spending the afternoon on a picnic with Mary.

The Scotsman scrubbed himself from head to toe, shaved and the brushed and ironed his clothes. It was after eleven o’clock by the time he had finished. The effort was worth it, because he felt that this was the best he’d ever looked.

Still not completely satisfied with his ensemble, Anthony washed his favorite shirt and dried it by ironing it. It was still damp when it put it own, but he didn’t mind. He was more interested in looking good than feeling comfortable. Once he had ironed his clothes, he polished his boots. After that, he had Brock cut his hair as the Highlander nibbled on a piece of ham and then he took a bath.

As he was ready to leave, he stopped in front of the mirror to admire himself. Liking what he saw, he smiled and saluted himself. As he got ready to leave, Anthony grabbed his hat. He was exiting the building, when Brock asked, “Where are you going?”

“Why?” returned Anthony.

“Just curious.”

“If you must know, I’m going to the mansion.”

“Dressed like that?” Brock began to laugh. His laugh was intentional with the purpose to bait Anthony and it worked.

“What?” asked the Highlander.

“Nothing. If you don’t hurry, you’ll never get to see Mary. She’s leaving this afternoon.”

The Highlander’s eyes became as big as saucers but he didn’t say a word. Closing the door behind him, he put on his hat and began walking up to the mansion. The closer he came to the building the faster his pace became. He was nearly running by the time he reached the front porch. Once he got there he stopped, took a deep breath in order to gain his composure and then he knocked on the door.

One of the servants opened the door. “May I help you Mr. Anthony?” asked the butler.

“I was hoping to talk with Lord Osbourne.”

“Lord Osbourne and Lady Osbourne have not as yet come down for the morning. I would be happy to take a message for you, and I shall deliver it to the lord when he comes down for breakfast.”

“That’s all right. Is Mary Bentley up this morning?”

“I don’t know.” The man paused for a moment and knitted his eyebrows in thought. “I’ve not seen her, but that doesn’t mean she’s not in the kitchen. If you would be so kind as to excuse me, I shall run into the kitchen to fetch her. That is, I will fetch her if she is indeed in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” returned Anthony, and with that, he entered the door. Removing his hat, he began fiddling with it as the butler went looking for Mary.

The butler had barely entered the kitchen when Mary appeared at the top of the stairs. Anthony was so busy staring after the butler that he had not noticed her. As she began to descend the stairs, she called to him. “Good morning,” she said.

The Highland caught his breath as he looked towards the stairs and saw Mary descending towards him. She was a vision of loveliness; full of grace and with a smile shone like the moon. He grinned like a drunken fool as he watched her gingerly walk towards him.

“Good morning,” he returned with a grin.

“What are you smiling at?” She felt as though the whole world stopped when he smiled at her. He made her feel as though she was the queen of the universe, and his job was to make her happy. She wanted desperately to tell him how much she loved him, but she had to keep up appearances to preserve her reputation even though she would give up everything for one long tender kiss from Anthony.

“How I love him!” She thought to herself. As she came near him, she had to fight the urge to jump into his arms and passionately kiss him. Doing so would create a scandal and she knew it but part of her didn’t care. Losing her dignity would be a small price to pay in return for his love.

“What?” asked Anthony having not heard her ask him the question. He was too enthralled with her beauty. Like Mary, he had been fantasizing about their life together. He knew that he was going to marry her. It was just a matter of time, but he also feared telling her this.

All his life he had heard men tell him that the second a woman found out that you loved her, your life, as you knew it would end. Anthony had heard horror stories of how women treated their men. Of course, these stories had all been told from the man’s point of view. Still, that only served to remind him how frightening marriage could be.

His Uncle Robert was one such man. Robert had been a soldier and had fought in over twenty campaigns having been wounded twice. Robert was the bravest man Anthony had ever known. There was nothing Robert feared, except his wife. The man often said that battle was a picnic next to the treatment he got from her when she was angry.

All the men in the clan told Anthony that marriage was the hardest thing they had ever done. Highlander women were sweet and beautiful until you married them. Once a woman was married, her personality changed. She no longer was that sweet darling a man fell in love with, but rather an overbearing monster that had to have everything her way. The married warriors whispered these types of tales whenever their women weren’t around.

The thought of Mary making such a drastic change frightened Scotsman more than any other thing. He wanted Mary to stay the same, but he feared she would turn into some soul-eating monster once she got him in a marriage contract. As these thoughts played themselves out in his mind, Anthony began to tremble.

Noticing his shaking body, Mary’s reached out to stroke his arm, but pulled back when her beloved flinched at her touch. “What are you thinking about?” She asked.

Still a bit disoriented from his daydream, he muttered, “You.”

Mary smiled and said, “Thank you.”

“Good morning to the both of you,” came a voice from the top of the stairs. The two looked up, and it was Lord Osbourne. “We’ve slept away half the day. My wife is still asleep. She’ll sleep all day if I let her, but I won’t. I’ll let her sleep a little while longer, but not much.”

“How is Lady Osbourne?” asked Mary.

“Exhausted,” returned the Englishman as he made his way down the stairs. “She hasn’t slept much lately, so I’m letting her catch up on her sleep.”

“Probably a good idea,” stated Anthony.

William nodded in agreement.

“Hungry?” asked the nobleman.

Mary smiled and looked at Anthony who said, “Starved.”

“Good, let’s go into the kitchen and see what we can find. Shall we?” He motioned for the two to follow him.

The three ate leftover ham and bread. After they had finished eating, Anthony asked, “you think I could use one of the wagons today? I’d like to take Mary on a wagon ride.”

The aristocrat stopped, thought about and smiled. “Of course, take as much food as you needed. Today is going to be a lazy day but it is also a perfect day for a picnic.”

That was exactly what the Highlander had in mind.

Once the Englishman had given his permission for the picnic, Mary excused herself and went up stairs to freshen up before leaving. This gave the Scotsman an opportunity to speak with his contract holder. The second she had left the room Anthony began the discussion.

“Lord Osbourne, in the past, you have expressed a desire for me to stay on as foreman after my contract is over; does that desire still hold true?”

William assured Anthony this was still his desire.

From there, the younger man asked, “will you give me your word that you won’t reveal what I am about to say.”

“You know I will,” the Englishman agreed.

The Highland puffed in a deep breath and then slowly released it. “Here is the deal I’d like to strike with you. I am work for wages until Mary’s contract is finished. I love her and it is my intention to marry her sometime in the future. With that being said, I feel that it would be inappropriate to try to court her until my contract was up next year. It is not my intent to bring any disrepute to either Mary or your family, Lord Osbourne.”

William listened intently to all he had to say. After the younger man was finished, the Englishman nodded his head. “Now I have some information for you. It is my intent to purchase Mary’s contract. When I purchase it, I will both condone and encourage their courtship. I think it is a good thing for all parties involved.

“While we are on this subject, I think it is about time you come forward with your intentions towards the beautiful Mary Bentley. Everyone knows about your feelings for each other. They’d be a fool not. It’s about time you two realized it. Once I have Mary’s contract, you to can marry as soon as you feel like it, but I would give my wife a few weeks to get over Becky’s party before I began making plans for another large reception.”

“Why would you throw us a party?”

William smiled, “You’re family boy and so is Mary.”

This was beyond what Anthony expected. Part of him wanted to shout for joy and part of him wanted to recant everything he had just said. Even though he wanted to marry Mary, the thought of it all terrified him. It had been his hope that things would move a lot slower than the pace than that which Englishman had in mind.

“We’re moving a little fast, don you think?’ questioned the Highlander.

“You’re not getting cold feet are you?” With that, William roared with laughter,

About that time, Mary knocked on the kitchen door, poked her head in the kitchen and asked, “Are you ready to go?” The Scotsman looked at his boss as if to ask a question. The Englishman smiled and nodded his head to indicate that the two lovebirds were dismissed.

Once at the barn, Anthony sat her on a bench and then proceeded to hitch a team of horses to one of the carriages. Being a foreman, he had the option of using a carriage anytime he needed it. When in a few minutes a team was hitched to the smallest of the three carriages. Having completed his task, the highlander helped her to get upon the carriage and then climbed up and sat down beside her. Within seconds, they were on their way.

“Where are we going?” Mary asked as the two made a beeline for the woods.

“I could show you a dozen different places such as where Thomas got hurt or where a young man drowned or even a small babbling brook, but there is one place I want you to see. After that, who knows?”

After about twenty minutes, they came to a small ridgeline. Anthony followed it for a few more minutes, stopped at a clearing and pointed to a small structure locate in the center of a small valley below. In the center of that valley, stood a small building that was being constructed next to the stream.

“What is that?” inquired Mary genuinely surprised to see a mill in such a remote location.

“A mill and I am helping to build it,” beamed Anthony. By the end of the year, Lord Osbourne expects to have it completed. Once it was up and running, the people from the surrounding area won’t have to worry about taking their grain long distances in order to get it ground.”

Anthony gestured with his hand as if he were a king giving a command. “Right now, people have to drive over thirty miles to get their grain to a mill. There it’s kept at least over night and depending on the backlog it could take a week before it’s finished. When this mill is finished, grain can be dropped off in the morning and then picked up that evening. The price will be about one out of every forty bags or half of the other mill’s fee.

“Lord Osbourne wanted the mill in order to serve his plantation. It was his goal to make his farm as self-sufficient as possible. He doesn’t like to rely on other people for anything. That’s why he has his own blacksmith, tailors, carpenters and masons. With the exception of a clergyman and a physician, this plantation is pretty much self-sufficient. This mill will be one more item to add to his independence.”

Like his boss, Anthony was deeply proud of the mill. He studied the plans and designs so often; that he was sure he could build his own if he had to in the future. That was his goal. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about the running of a plantation. He wanted to know more than just how to plant and raise crops. He wanted to know how to make repairs and how to do the necessary accounting. He wanted to know how to timber wood and how to birth animals. As a result, he would volunteer for every new task the plantation under took. This helped increase his knowledge about the operations of such an endeavor, and he was thankful for that type of experience.

After about twenty minutes, they came to a babbling brook. Anthony followed a wagon path along the brook until they came to the mill. It was a small structure made from stone. It was twenty feet by twenty feet in dimensions, and it was currently no more than eight feet high. A medal beam extended out over the water on one side it. Three holes where a door and two windows would go gave the front of the building a strange almost human look to it.

“This is the mill,” he stated.

“It’s smaller than I expected.”

“Mills aren’t supposed to be real big. I remember one in Scotland that was not half this size. Some of the men claimed that they have seen bigger ones, but I doubt that. A mill is limited in size due to the weight and size of the millstone. This one is a full six-foot circle. I doubt there are millstones much bigger than that.”

“Really?” asked Mary more as a courtesy than anything else.

“I’ll tell you why. We had a terrible time getting the millstone in place. If we had such a difficult time getting a six-foot millstone in place, I can’t even imagine the trouble a bigger stone would create. I tell you…”

“May I see it?” The excitement in his voice had become contagious, and now she was itching to see the millstone for herself. Encouraged by her enthusiasm, Anthony agreed. Jumping out of the wagon, the Highlander took her by the hand, helped her down from the carriage and walked her over to the building.

“Wow, it is huge!” she said as she caught a glimpse of the millstone through one of the windows. “How much does that thing weigh?”

“Six hundred to seven hundred pounds. Maybe? A little more or a little less.”

Mary smiled. “I see what you mean. I cannot imagine a millstone getting much larger than this one. How did you ever get it into place, and how did you get it in the building?”

“Getting it in the building was easy. Getting it moved was the hard part. Here’s what we did. We built the floor first. Then we put the millstone in place. That was the hardest part. We broke two rigs trying to move that rock into place. Once we got it where we wanted it, all we did was build the building around it.”

“That was a brilliant idea!” The sound of pride in her voice made him smile.

“It wasn’t my idea. Believe it or not it was Joseph’s.”

“Lord Osbourne’s son? He can’t be fifteen years old: how did he think of such a thing?”

Anthony shrugged. “I think he’s seventeen, but I’m not sure of that. As far as how he thought of this, don’t let his smiling face fool you. That kid has the sharpest mind of anyone I’ve ever met.” Pointing with his hand, Anthony said, “Come here and let me show you some of the things he designed.”

Over the next several minutes, Anthony instructed Mary on how the mechanism worked. He explained that a waterwheel would be attached to the steel beam sticking out from the side of the mill. The water from the stream would hit the wheel and move it, which in turn would move the stone, and the stone would grind the grain into either flour or meal. He showed her where the grain was poured into the mill and where the meal would come out of it. He explained to her the full mechanics of the contraption, as he knew.

“And Joseph thought all this up by himself?” asked Mary.

“He read a book on the principles that were to be applied and just figured it out from there. I don’t know how he did it but he did.”

“He has his mother’s intelligence.”

“And his father’s.”

“When will it be finished?”

“We’ll have the building finished by the end of the summer. Lord Osbourne ordered two panes of real glass to put in the windows. They won’t be here until mid-September. Once we have those, it won’t take three days to finish the project.

“The only problem we’ll have is with the wheel. We don’t have a blacksmith or craftsman around here with enough skill to build the wheel to the specification Joseph wanted. Therefore, Lord Osbourne had to order one all the way from Richmond. It won’t be hear until late fall at the earliest.

“If all goes well, this time next year we’ll be grinding our own flour and meal.”

“I thought your contract was up in June of next year?” asked Mary. Her voice was cautiously optimistic. “Why would you be around this time next year? I thought it was your big plan to go west and stake your own claim.”

“It still is. I will eventually move west to stake my own claim, but Lord Osbourne has offered me a job to earn wages if I will agree to stay on with him for awhile after my contract is completed.”

“And you said?”

“I said no at first, but now I find I am not so sure.”

“Why is that?” Mary was trying to conceal her excitement. If Anthony stayed on, then that meant she could see more of him and possibly even… No she dared not to even think it, but she couldn’t help it. If Anthony stayed on, then perhaps it was because of her. She began to think that maybe, just maybe, they were meant to be married.

Anthony didn’t answer her question, so she pressed him on the issue. “What changed your mind about going west?”

“I just changed it. There’s no particular reason for the change.” Anthony was a poor liar and he knew it. He looked at he and he could tell that she didn’t believe a word he said.

“It sure is awful strange that you would change your mind so quickly. Is it Thomas? Is he not well?”

“No, it’s not Thomas.”

“Is it Lord Osbourne?”

“No, just drop it.”

“Is it Brock or one of the other men?”

“Would you let it go?”

“Is it me?”

Her question was met with silence, and that’s when she knew. “It is me? Isn’t it?” Again, silence. Frightened by her questions, he turned his head away from her in a vain attempt to hide his feelings. Sensing that she must seize the moment because he wasn’t about to, she walked over to him and put her right hand on his shoulder.

“Look at me,” she said. “I have something to tell you and I must have your full attention.” He turned to face her but lowered his gaze for he was unable to look her in the eye. Gently palming his chin, Mary raised his face up so that she could force him to look directly at her.

She took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. “I love you,” she said. “I have loved you from the second I first saw you. I have never wanted anything more than I want you, and I am taking a great risk here by telling you this, but I could never be happy with anyone but you.

“There you go. You now know my great secret. I love you more than anything I have ever seen, had or even heard about. I love you and I choke with excitement when I hear you name. I dream of the joy we’ll have together, and I pray you feel the same.”

Anthony stood staring in silence as Mary spoke. As his gaze locked with hers, tears began to well up in his eyes. Since the day they had first met, he had longed to hear those words. Now his dream was coming true and the emotion of it all was overpowering him. Knowing that it wasn’t manly to cry, he tried not to avoid it but the joy in him could not be contained. Therefore, the Highlander began to weep openly while silently thanking God for such a wonderful blessing.

His silence frightened her and she began to cry. “Do you hate?” she asked.

Reaching out to her, Anthony pulled her close and whispered,”Mary, Mary, Mary.” After several seconds, he moved his head away from her ears and towards her lips as his mouth found hers. Their mouths locked in a passionate eruption of their souls rather than their bodies. After several minutes of passionate kissing, Anthony whispered, “I love you, and there can never be another.”

“It’s me,” teased Mary.

“And no one else” whispered Anthony as he nearly choked with delight.

“What are we going to do about it?”

“About what?”

“Us silly. What are we going to do about us? Are we going to tell everybody or are we going to keep it a secret? How do we announce it? What will we do if Mr. Banks will not sell my contract? There are a million things to be done. How will we ever do them all?”

Not knowing any other way to stop her barrage of questions, the Highlander kissed her in order to keep her from spoiling the mood. If the first kiss was an explosion of love, this one was wave of delight as both participants trembled as the sheer enormity of their love crashed with reckless abandon into their inner most desires.

After a long soul-consuming kiss, Anthony pulled away from Mary. “Whoa,” he whispered nearly overwhelmed by her outpour of passion. “You’re moving much too fast for me. I can’t possibly think with you firing off that many questions!”

“I’m sorry. I guess I am moving a little too fast, but I am so excited about this I don’t mean to be this way. I’m also nervous about it all. What if something goes wrong?”

“What could go wrong?”

“A million things. One of us could die or find someone else.”

Anthony rolled his eyes and began to laugh. “You have one of the most active imaginations I’ve ever seen. Nothing is going to go wrong. I promise you that.”

The Irish girl smiled mechanically to placate her lover but deep down in her soul she sense of dread about the whole thing. She tried to reassure herself by pretending that it was just nerves, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that impending danger was lurking out there just waiting for her to make a mistake. Mary shivered as she tried to shake these thoughts from her mind.

“I hope you’re right,” she said. “After all it’s not every girl who can say she is going to marry one of the most handsome men alive.”

Anthony smiled out of embarrassment, but secretly loved hearing it. Mary gave a half-hearted effort to join him as she tried to put the negative thoughts out of her mind.

“I appreciate that,” he said in a timid voice. “I thank you for saying it even though we both know it’s not true.”

Faking anger, Mary puffed up and spouted, “My husband had better learn early on not to accuse me of lying when I’m telling the truth!” The laughter that comment solicited was awkward and forced as if both knew it to be false.

Anthony slapped the millstone and took a final look around the room. “If you want to see some of the other sights, then we’d better get moving.”

“Give me a second. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this moment. I’d like to live it just a little longer.”

“Me too. I’ve enjoyed your company.” He’d meant to agree with her, but she seemed to misinterpret his words.

Yes, I have enjoyed you as well,” she said.

An odd look crossed Anthony’s face as he shrugged his shoulders and motioned to indicate that he was ready to leave. She followed his leave and exited the building.

The two spent the next several hours together as Anthony showed her all the interesting places on and surrounding the plantation. The entire time the two were together, they discussed their pasts and their plans for the future.

Both wanted a large family. He wanted eight sons and two daughters providing they looked like their mother. She wanted four of each, but she hoped they all got their father’s good looks.

The two spent the entire afternoon entertaining each other with their hopes and dreams. His hope was to one day be a fat land squire like Lord Osbourne. She squealed with delight when she talked about how jealous other women would be when they saw the clothes she would create for their children.

They talked and planned and planned and talked the day away. In the end, the only thing they could totally agree on was that each wanted to spend his or her life with the other. That they agreed was truly, what life was all about.

It was now after six in the evening. The guests had arrived and they were mingling amongst each other. Dinner would not be served until seven. Thus far the ball and been a complete success. Lady Osbourne could not have imagined that it would go so well.

It was about time to seat the guests at the various tables and that meant it was about time for Becky to make her entrance. The tables in the large hall had been laid out in a squared horseshoe with three sides closed and the area that led from the stairs open so that all eyes would be on Becky when she made her entrance.

Lord Osbourne’s table was located dead center of the section of table directly across from the stair well. That table would accommodate fourteen other people and would place him the center chair; his wife would be on his left and Becky on his right. Those sitting next to Lady Osbourne were in order: the mayor and his wife, the parson and his wife and the judge and his wife. Those sitting next to Becky were the head alderman and his wife, the head master of the local school and his wife and Mr. and Mrs. Banks.

Within minutes, everyone had been assigned a place at a table. Once the guests had been seated, Lady Osbourne looked at the conductor of the local symphony and nodded to him. He returned her nod and began to play a grand aria. At the start of the first note, one of the servants ran into Becky’s room and whispered in a loud tone, “It’s started.”

Becky had been sitting on her bed, but she jumped to her feet the second the door opened. Her face flushed as the enormity of the situation suddenly hit her. “What am I going to do?” she asked Mary who had been with her the since Lady Osbourne left to go mingle the previous hour.

“Be yourself,” returned Mary. “Everyone down there is going to be stunned by your beauty. There is no need to worry about that. The shear beauty of your face will outshine everyone else down there.”

Smiling, Becky said, “I hope you’re right. If I fail, mother will kill me in front of the entire crowd.”

Mary laughed, but secretly agreed with her. Lady Osbourne had not been herself lately and Mary wasn’t sure how well the mistress would take a complete failure. “No she won’t,” Mary lied.

“You’re lips say no, but your eyes say yes.”

“You’ll do fine. I promise you.” With that, Mary smiled.

“Are you coming?”

“No, this entrance is for you and you alone.” Mary hugged her and through tear soaked eyes said, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” returned Becky. She then turned and started to leave, but Mary stopped her.

“Give them a few minutes,” said Mary. “The longer you wait the greater will be the impact when you enter.”

“You’ve thought of everything.” Becky was giddy with delight.

“I hope so,” returned Mary. “I hope so.”

They waited until the tune had nearly ended and Mary said, “It’s time.” She hugged Becky and smiled. “You’re the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”

“Thank you.”

Becky walked slowly to the top of the stairs and stopped. The music finished within seconds of her reaching the appointed place. She was out of sight of everyone but the chief butler and the conductor. Once the music stopped, the butler looked up at her and nodded. She returned his nod. Straightening him self to full attention, the butler then took a staff he had been holding and tapped it four times on the floor. Immediately, all the talking and other noise stopped.

Becky took a deep breath. She had been anticipating the moment for the last three years and now it had finally arrived. A million questions and scenarios ran through her mind as she tried to think of what she was going to say or do, but then she heard Mary’s voice whisper in her mind, “Relax and be yourself.” Taking another deep breath, she said a silent prayer to calm her nerves.

If Becky was nervous, then her mother was even more so. Whereas the daughter was having trouble breathing, the mother was panting like a dog on a hot day. It was nothing short of a miracle that she didn’t hyperventilate. By raw will and determination, she managed to maintain her composure during this short but exhausting period.

Once the fourth tap hit the floor, the butler began to speak. “Welcome friends and honored guests. Tonight the former governor of the Colony of Virginia, Lord William Benjamin Huntington Osbourne and his wife the lovely and gracious Lady Osbourne would like to present their daughter, Lady Rebecca Anne Cantwell Osbourne for your approval.”

The second the butler said his last word; the conductor started the band in a pompous, yet slow and melodic tune. Waiting for a count of ten before she started, Becky made her way gingerly down the steps. With each step, she had to fight the urge to run down the steps even though she knew that would not be lady like.

Once she descended the stairs, she came to the entrance of the hall and stopped. She had to wait for the song to end before she could be seated. The instant she stopped a huge gasp went out from the room, and for a split-second, it drowned out the music. The reason for the gasp was obvious; she was an angelic site! Never in the colony had a girl, no woman, been as beautiful as Becky now appeared.

As soon as the gasp ended, a whisper that quickly became a roar could be heard over the music. The crowd was discussing the vision of beauty that now captivated the entire room. The beauty of the creature standing in the entranceway struck even Anthony despite the fact he was madly in love with Mary. Still, no one could argue against the shear loveliness that Rebecca Osbourne was radiating.

Her mother tried not to do it, but she began sobbing with pride. Never in her life had she seen such a grand entrance, not even during her days in court. Becky was truly a vision for the ages.

Lady Osbourne scanned the room. She saw pure desire written on the faces of most of the men and intense jealousy etched on the faces of the women. Her tears changed to a smile as she scanned the room. This was what she had been planning for since the day they left England. This was her revenge on the crown and it more than compensated for the indignity she suffered in London. Her shame had now been crowned in glory thanks to careful planning the beauty of her eldest daughter.

She tried to fight back the tears, but she failed. She sat there sobbing with pride as her magnificent daughter gingerly strolled to her appointed seat. “It was all worth it,” Lady Osbourne whispered to herself repeatedly. “This night will be talked about over a hundred years from now,” she said louder than she should have because her husband heard it and softly shushed her.

As Becky walked towards to her chair, heads followed her every step of the way. The combination of her steps and the movement of the guests’ heads seemed to perform an eerie ballet. As she passed the tables, heads would follow her almost as if it had been planned that way. Of course, it hadn’t, but it still had that effect.

Several of the young men wolfed down their meals. Each one hoping he would be the first, last and only man to dance with the lovely Rebecca. Several sat there and stared at the young woman, and many of them didn’t bother eating as they to had hopes of being the first to talk with the lovely young woman.

None of this escaped Lord Osbourne’s notice. The young men looked to him like a pack of ravenous wolves waiting to pounce on his innocent daughter. As he looked over the group, William picked several young squires out of the crowd and promised himself that he would not let his daughter get anywhere near any of them.

Dinner lasted over an hour. Once the last bit of dessert had been eaten, the butler announced that the dinner room needed to clear so that the band could be set up and refreshments could be brought. What time the servants were preparing the ballroom, the ladies accompanied Lady Osbourne on a tour of the house, while the men followed Lord Osbourne out on the porch for a drink and quick smoke from the pipe. Mary escorted Rebecca to the kitchen so that Rebecca could both freshen up before the dance started.

Within minutes, the room had been cleared and the band was in place thus allowing the butler to call the guests. Rebecca had already taken her place, and she stood there waiting for her first dance partner, which by custom would be her father. Lord Osbourne was glad for tradition. Secretly, he hoped to devise a way were he could prevent Rebecca from dancing with anyone but himself, Joseph, Brock, Anthony and the Parson. That way he could ensure that no man would catch her attention. Still, he knew that his wife would never allow that to happen, but it was still pleasant to think about.

The music had already started by the time Lord Osbourne entered the room. Despite that fact, no one was dancing. They were all waiting for Lord Osbourne and Becky to begin the proceedings. The second he entered the room Lord Osbourne strolled up to his daughter and extended his right hand. Becky took it with her left and she followed as her father escorted her to the center of the room. They slowly waltzed to the minuet being played as the entire room watched. A couple of over exuberant young men began to clap in anticipation of a dance with Becky but the more matriarchal ladies of the group soon silenced them.

Joseph waited the appropriate amount of time, and then he walked over to his mother and extended his hand. Within seconds, they had joined Becky and her father. Half way through the song, Joseph and his father traded partners. The rest of the party had been anticipating this signal. One by one, the others joined in and soon the entire room was filled with couples swaying to the music.

Not wanting to seem too forward, Anthony decided to wait until the room got crowded before he walked over to Mary and asked for a dance. That was his plan, but he soon changed his mind when he noticed all the young men asking her to dance. She declined and told them that she had already promised her first dance to another. Once he saw all the attention she was getting, Anthony decided his original plan wasn’t going to work therefore, he made a beeline for her.

Unfortunately, Mr. Banks, the owner of Mary’s indentured contract, beat him to the punch. Mr. Banks walked to Mary and asked her to dance. At first, she started to protest because she was saving the first dance for Anthony. Not wanting to offend her owner, she looked at Anthony instead who shook his head to nod his agreement to Mr. Banks’ request. Reluctantly, she agreed to the dance. As she was following her escort to the dance floor, she mouthed, “I’m sorry,” to her beau. A smile from Anthony assured her that he understood her predicament.

This was to be his first dance with Mary and he had been anticipating this for weeks. Knowing that he was not a good dancer, Anthony had secretly been practicing with some of the servants as well as with Becky. Somehow, he had managed to keep it hidden from Mary over the last month because desperately wanted to impress her during their first dance together.

In his mind, he knew he had the skills; unfortunately, his legs would not cooperate with him. Therefore, he practiced every time he had a spare moment. He’d move back and forth whispering, “One, two, three, four,” while holding broomsticks, yard rakes, shovels and about anything else he could have gotten his hands during the last few weeks.

Anthony watched as Mr. Banks and Mary sashayed back and forth across the ballroom amazed by how light she was on her feet. “Surely, she is by far the best dancer in this room,” he thought to himself as he watched her. It was true. She did seem to float on the air.

About halfway through the dance, Mr. Banks’ wife and their son, Marvin, danced up next to Mary and Mr. Banks. The two men stopped dancing, bowed to each other and exchanged partners. The two danced one more dance and then Mary asked to sit out the next dance to which the younger Banks agreed.

“Would you like to have some punch?” asked Mary. She really didn’t want a drink. The only real reason she asked was that she noticed Anthony was standing next to the table that contained the drink. Marvin readily agreed and then escorted her to the table.

As they approached him, Anthony began sizing up the younger Banks. Marvin was an attractive man a couple of years younger than himself. That made him about twenty-two, which would mean he was about Mary’s age. He had red hair and freckles and he carried himself well, but something about him made the Highlander suspicious. It was though Marvin held a hidden anger deep inside of him that could explode at any moment or at least that was how Anthony saw it. There was something almost sinister about him, but Anthony felt that way about the whole Banks clan. They were too secretive for his liking.

As Mary approached the table, she smiled at Anthony. Marvin noticed this but tried to pretend it never happened. The younger Banks reached and got two cups, filled them with punch from the bowl and offered one to Mary who smiled and thanked him for his kindness.

By this time, Anthony had moved up beside of them. He was pretending to get some punch when he bumped into Mary. “Excuse me,” he said.

“That’s all right.” Without saying another word, Mary laughed. She laughed because she knew that he was trying to get her away from Marvin and that this was his pathetic attempt at doing just that.

“You need to be more careful,” snapped Marvin. His face had grown red with anger. “Clumsiness like that could get someone hurt!”

Anthony knew that had been a threat aimed directly at him. Mary also noticed it. The Highlander looked at the other man and began to sizing him up. A smile shoot across his face because knew that if they were to fight he’d hurt the redhead. Therefore, he enlarged his smile and shook his head in agreement.

He then looked at Mary and asked, “Would you like to dance?”

When he heard that request, Marvin reached out and forcefully put his left hand on the Scotsman’s chest. “Her card is full for the evening,” he spurted.

“Why don’t you let her decide that?” Anthony pushed of the man’s hand as he moved forward to take Mary’s.

Marvin repeated his earlier gesture, but this time with more force. Anthony looked at him with a blank expression. His face was always was that way before a fight because he had been taught this by an uncle back in the Highlands. The other man’s face was a combination of fear, anger and determination.

The clansman tried to ignore him and moved forward again to take Mary’s hand. The Colonial thumped Anthony’s chest a third time. “Gentlemen,” said Mary when she realized a fight was brewing. She was becoming frightened and this upset the Scotsman.

With lightning fast reflexes, Anthony reached up with his right hand and twisted Marvin’s hand from the inside to the outside. The younger man slumped to his knees from the pain.

“I could hurt you very quickly and really badly,” said Anthony. His voice was barely above a whisper. “The choice is entirely yours. We can forget this little incident happened, or I can finish it very quickly. Which do you prefer? The choice is entirely up to you.” He twisted Marvin’s arm a bit harder and the redhead winced in pain. “Which is it?” asked Anthony a second time.

“You win,” returned Marvin.

With that, the Highlander let go and the other man began to rub his arm and shoulder. Anthony expected a full attack when Marvin stood back up on his feet, but it never happened. Instead, the redhead rubbed his wrist, bowed to Mary and walked away.

The whole incident took about five seconds. No one seemed to notice and both Mary and Anthony were thankful for that. Neither wanted to upset the Osbourne’s on this evening.

Mary thought about what her owner might say, but this was soon forgotten when she thought about Lady Osbourne’s promise to purchase her contract. With that purchase, she would be able to see her beloved Anthony everyday, and that was her hope.

“It looks like your dance card is full for the rest of the evening,” piped Anthony through a malicious smirk. As she looked at him, Mary noticed that he was grinning from ear to ear. If she saw anything but teeth, she was not able to recall it the next day.

“It was before the ball even started.”

That shot chills shot up Anthony’s spine. Grabbing her arm, he smiled, pulled her close to him and started to kiss her, but realized where they were. He relented not wanting to create a scandal on this night. Instead of kissing her, he smiled and asked, “Would you like to dance?”

A sense of disappoint me and relief rushed Mary at the same time. She was heart-broken because she wanted to be kissed by Anthony more than anything, but she was relieved at that thought that there would be no scandal on this night. Therefore, she smiled and agreed to the dance.

The next several dances were a blur to Anthony. He wasn’t sure if he was dancing correctly. To be perfectly honest about it, he didn’t care how well he was dancing. The only thought on his mind was of kissing Mary. They danced at least two slow songs and three maybe even four livelier versions that involved groups rather than couples, but he couldn’t be sure about it all. Mary was his only thought. Everything else disappeared into the background when compared to her beauty.

After several dances, she stopped him. “I’m exhausted,” she said. “May we sit out the next few dances? I’m too tired to go on any longer.”

“That’s fine. Would you like some punch?”

“I’d love some. Thank you very much.” She said with a smile as they began to walk towards the table with the punchbowl on it.

As she watched her smile, a cascade of emotion showered on his heart. Although, he was experienced in the ways of male and female attraction having had feelings for girls in the past, Anthony had never experienced the blinding rush he experienced every time he was near Mary. For the next few minutes, his only though was to devise e a way to get her alone. In all of his life, he had never desired anything as much as he now desired to press his lips against hers. He was willing to risk anything to be able to touch his lips to hers if even only for a second.

Oh, how he yearned that they were now in Scotland. At home, he would pull her into him and kiss her right in front of everyone. Sure, a slap would come next, but he knew it would be a tender slap. She would hit him across the face in order to show that she was a good girl and not in an attempt to ward off his affections.

Mary liked him, maybe even loved him. He understood this from the very depths of his soul. She had to love him as much as her loved her. There was no way God would allow him to feel the way he did about her and then not allow her to feel the same way. There could be no other explanation for it. No one was that cruel, not even Satan himself. No, Mary had to love him as much as he loved her. Once he came to that realization, a grin akin to that of a child being given a treat raced across his visage.

Anthony was forming a plan to get Mary alone so that he could confess his love for her. It was his deepest hope that she would return his affections were they ever able to get by themselves. Therefore, his mind was constantly plotting ways to get her to go for a stroll in the orchard with him. He was still thinking about this when she broken his concentration with a question.

“Anthony,” she said snapping him out of his stupor with her words. He didn’t answer her, but instead raised his eyebrows to indicate that he was being attentive.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You were grinning from ear to ear.” He could hear the humor in her voice.

“I was?”

“I’m afraid so.” She began to laugh.

“I was thinking about us.”

With that comment, Mary forced herself to quit laughing. It took everything in her to keep from screaming with delight as she began to anticipate what he might say. Mustering every ounce of will power she had, she forced herself to pretend to be offended.

“What do you mean by that?” she questioned harshly. Although her voice was filled with indignation, she secretly longed to hear what he had to say. Unfortunately there were rules for this sort of engagement, and she was not about to break one of them. If he was going to say what she hoped he was going to say, then he was going to have to earn right to say it. She was determined to be merciless to him. He was going to have to prove his love for her. Nothing less than total devotion would be given or accepted at this point in the game.

“Excuse me?” questioned Anthon as he knocked off balance by her question. It was his belief that they were on the same page, but now it appeared they were not.

“I’m not that type of girl.” Her whisper sounded like a scream to him. Again, he was stunned by her actions.

“I never said you were.” He was still reeling from this turn of events.

“Well, I’m not and don’t you forget it.” For the third time, Anthony was rocked on his heels by her words. He was stunned by her ability to scream in a silent voice.

“I won’t,” piped a confused Anthony.

Sensing his confusion and convinced that she had made her point, Mary decided that she needed to let him off the hook. Instantly, she changed her facial expressions from one of discuss to one of reconciliation. “I guess you have learned your lesson; therefore, I forgive you,” she whispered.

“Forgive me for what?” He was now more confused than ever and that was just the way she wanted it. “What have I done that needs forgiven?”

“You don’t know?” she asked Mary as she feigned being shocked by his question.

“No.”

“I should be angry at you for saying that.” At that instant, she realized that she might have gone too far with him. Her goal was to keep him off balance and she had succeeded in doing that, but now she realized that she had gone too far with her little game. Now, her fear was that instead of drawing him into her, she might be pushing him away.

The Highlander looked at her and tried to speak, but failed. He stood there with a stunned look on his face and not knowing what else to do, he shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

“If you must know,” said Mary as was trying to bring Anthony around to her line of thinking. “You made me feel like a money loving tart.”

“A what?” He asked as his eyes doubled in confusion.

“A tart,” replied Mary. “A prostitute.”

Anthony’s mouth fell open and he began stammering. “I – I- I – I never meant to.” he struggled to say. “I would never do that. Ever – huh- never.” He struggled with each word he spoke. Soon it became obvious to her that he was upset by her words. “Finally, he gets it,” she thought to herself. This was exactly where she had been heading him; this was what she was trying to achieve.

A smiled lit up her face as she realized he had just taken the bait and she was about to land this catch. It had been almost too easy and that disappointed her to some degree, but she deeply loved him and now she was convinced that he was hers for the taking. All she had to do was pulling him and this fish was cooked.

“I believe you,” she said.

“Thank you,” he returned although he was unsure for what he was thanking her.

Cautiously, he looked at her unsure of what to say next. Before he could muster up the courage to say anything, she beat him to the punch. “It’s awfully hot in here. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes it is. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking how wonderful it would be to go for a walk in the evening air.”

“Aren’t you afraid someone would say something about it?”

“What would they say? I personally see nothing wrong with a casual stroll in the cool air. Do you?”

“That’s not the point. Others might take it the wrong way.”

“Then that is their problem.” With that, she turned and headed for the front door. She had not gone ten feet when she turned around to face him. “Are you coming?” He nodded his head, smiled in delight and followed her.

Within minutes, they were walking through and orchard. Before leaving the house, she had wrapped a shawl around her arms and grabbed a small fan. They had been walking and talking for several minutes when she suddenly stopped, turned to him and began staring into his eyes.

“What are your intentions towards me?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” This is how he expected it to go and now he was becoming more confident with the situation.

“Exactly what I asked,” she returned. “I want to know what your intentions are towards me.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Really, I was under the impression you were courting me for marriage.”

“Marriage?” He barked as he nearly choked on his own words. “What gave you that idea?”

“You, of course.”

“Me?”

“Then why else are we out here?” The tone of her voice seemed to echo the drama building up within his soul. There was no doubt that he loved her, but the thought of marrying her had never entered his mind.

“I thought this was your idea?” returned Anthony.

“Don’t try to twist the subject. I was under the impression you brought me out here to declare your intention to marry me.”

“I did no such thing!”

“So your intentions were to sully my reputation?”

“No,” he replied, “but it was not to ask you to marry me either. We haven’t even kissed, how can we get married?”

Without saying a word, she walked in close to him, clasped his face in her hands and pulled him close to her. At first he resisted, but relented once her lips touched his. After a few seconds, he gave himself totally to her. It was a long, deep, wet, probing kiss that shook the very fiber of Anthony’s being.

The second she pulled away from him spurted out, “I love you.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but he did. That was all she was after. She knew she loved him but was unsure about his feelings towards her and now she knew that as well.
________________________________
They were inseparable the rest of the evening. They danced, walked, and generally spent the entire time consumed by each other’s company. By the end of the part, they knew that they were in love and that they were going to marry, but neither one had the courage to tell the other.

Lady Osbourne spent the entire evening swooning over the Banks family. She bragged to everyone she met about how wonderful both Mr. and Mrs. Banks were both as a couple and as individuals. When she ran out of things to say about the couple, the Englishwoman bragged on their child, their workmanship and their standing in the community.

Mrs. Banks, being an expert at buttering people up, saw the flattery for what it truly was a ruse to get on her good side. Lady Osbourne and one of her servants were taking several women on a tour of the mansion when she took the opportunity to get alone with Mrs. Banks. When they were by themselves, the seamstress looked at the noblewoman and asked, “What’s it that you have up your sleeve?”

“Excuse me?” returned Lady Osbourne.

“Come on now,” piped Mrs. Banks. “You’re not fooling me. I know you’re up to something.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s cut the chit chat. What do you want from me?” The Englishwoman had not anticipated her rival’s straightforwardness and as a result, had been knocked off balance by that. This delighted Mrs. Banks, because she hated those who had more than she did because she was an insanely jealous person at heart. Therefore, she hated the Osbourne’s above all the people that she knew, because they had the most. Now, here was the person she hated the most and that person needed a favor form her. Therefore, the seamstress began to cackle when she realized what was about to take place.

The evil laugh coming from Mrs. Banks sent shivers up Lady Osbourne’s back and she tried in vain to shake them out of her system. Mrs. Banks noticed this and that delighted her all the more.

“I know you want something from me, now spit it out.” Said Mrs. Banks in a voice was nearly shrilling with delight.

“I want nothing from you,” piped a now irritated Lady Osbourne.

Thinking that she may have overstepped her bounds, Mrs. Banks began to back off a bit. “You mean there is nothing you want from me?” Her voice was both apologetic and probing at the same time.

“I do have a business proposition for you,” returned the noblewoman, “but I don’t want anything from you. No, not really.”

The evil smile that had momentarily disappeared from the Colonial woman’s face was now back. “What Type of business proposition do you have for me?”

“I wanted to make you an offer that could prove very profitable to you.” Sensing that she may have hit a nerve, Lady Osbourne shrewdly backed off and became suddenly coy. “If you are not interested in making a tidy profit, then I’ll let you go on your way”

Mrs. Banks knew that her adversary was probing, but the idea of a good profit was too tempting to resist. “I don’t handle the business end of the family,” she lied. “I leave that to my husband.”

It was common knowledge that Mrs. Banks was the real power behind the family. Her husband was nothing but a pawn to her whims. She had come from a poor family and had manipulated him into marriage when they were both barely out of their teens. After their marriage, she then took what little wealth his family possessed and then set about to make a name for herself.

The seamstress had proven herself to be both a shrewd businessman and a crafty negotiator. Unlike most of the other businessmen in the community, she and her husband were not above lying to get what they wanted. Most of the businesses in the community were done on a “word and handshake” basis, but when dealing with the Bankses, the other businessmen demanded a written contract. Most claimed what they agreed on and what the Bankses agreed on were never the same and it seemed that the Banks family always got the better end of the deal. “When dealing with Mrs. Banks, it had better be in writing,” was the phrase most people quoted when dealing with them.

“Oh,” returned Lady Osbourne. “I had heard that you were the driving force behind your family.”

“I could care less what you heard,” mused the Colonial. Her voice was not a sharp as it had been a few seconds ago. The noblewoman knew that she was scoring points against her opponent. “Rumor has it that your husband would be broke if it were not for you.”

“I could care less about rumors. What do you want from me?”

“I’d like to purchase the remainder of Mary’s indentured contract.” Lady Osbourne tried to make it sound as though this was no big deal for her, but she failed.

Sensing what was taking place the seamstress pounced on her opponent like a cat that has finally tired of toying with a mouse. “I bet you would,” returned the businesswoman. “She’s the best seamstress we have, other than me of course. I would really hate to lose her. Besides, I don’t know if you know this or not, but she is engaged to be married to my son Marvin.”

“I hadn’t heard that before.” The aristocrat nearly laughed with delight, but held her peace. It was obvious that Mrs. Banks was doing her best to raise the price, and was telling a complete lie in the process.

“Oh yes, everyone knows that. Ask them if you doubt me?”

“I will,” agreed the Englishwoman.

“Good, now we can stop this foolish talk and get back to the ball.”

“I’ll agree.” Lady Osbourne smiled to herself totally convinced she had hit pay dirt. It would be only a matter of time before she owned Mary’s contract. Of that, she was dead certain. Why else would Mrs. Banks make up such a preposterous lie, but to raise her asking price. This made no difference to her. Price was no barrier when it came to her desires.

“If you have time, I’d like to show you some other rooms.” Lady Osbourne was not interested in finishing the tour, but good taste dictated that she had to ask.

“Be my guest,” returned the other woman with a smile.

The seamstress was impressed by the Englishwoman’s ability to stay focused while under pressure. Lady Osbourne had made several direct shots at her opponent but not one of them had so much as fazed the other woman. That verbal joust had accomplished on one thing, and that was to increase the price of Mary’s contract. Once she took time to think about it, the seamstress was impressed by her opponent’s ability to think on her feet.

Here is a formidable enemy, Mrs. Banks thought to herself. As the two were continuing the tour, she began to size up her opponent knowing that one day they would be enemies, and now she was probing her rival for a weakness. After a while, the seamstress guessed that the aristocrat understood her motives because every time she issued a verbal thrust, the noblewoman was able to parry it. As much as she hated to admit it, the Colonial was impressed with the noble woman’s abilities to reason. Mrs. Banks understood that going to war with Lady Osbourne would be a long challenging process. Destroying the Englishwoman would be her crowning achievement in the field of intrigue. Without even thinking about it, a giant evil smile raced across her face and she trembled with delight as she thought of what she was going to do to her rival when she had the pompous twit at her mercy.

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.

It had been several months since Timothy had left and Anthony was beginning to become more at ease with his new position. Summer had passed, the harvest had been gathered, and the crops had been taken to market. Winter was rapidly approaching and he was looking to the snow with both a sense of dread and excitement. With winter came timbering; Anthony remembered all too well what happened the previous year, and he didn’t want that to happen this year. This filled his head with worry and confusion.

The other side of the coin was that timbering brought in good money. As a foreman, he would get one out of every fifty shillings made from the timber. The Virginia hardwoods were a tall and sturdy lot. The oak and other timber would be cut, stripped and dragged to a creek that had been damned. After a pile of logs had been gathered together, the men would bind four of them together in a form of a makeshift raft. After the building of the rafts was completed, the crude piles would be pushed into the creek. Once in the creek, the timbers would be notched with a brand that signified these timbers belonged to Lord Osbourne. After all the rafts were in the water, a man with a long pole would mount each raft and begin the trip.

The trip to the gathering point, which was located at the confluence of the creek and a river, was only about seven miles. The men would gather the logs near the creek at night and then float them down the next day. If there were no complications, the men could leave in the morning and return home in the evening long before dark.

Except for the occasional spill, the trip was an extremely easy journey. The creek meandered very slowly. The trip to the gathering point took almost as long as the hike home. Still, it was easy and peaceful work, therefore, there was always more than enough men willingly to volunteer when the time came.

Lord Osbourne usually sent about six to eight rafts down a week. He usually did this on Saturdays. He would give each of the men a pouch of food to eat and something to drink and send them on their way.

Though he always asked for volunteers, he tried to spread the trips out amongst the men. He wanted every one of the men to experience the journey. He knew that most would enjoy the excursion, and that it allowed them a chance to go somewhere other than the estate and church. He would keep track of who went. There were occasions when a man or two would not volunteer. It became his tradition to pull them off to the side and ask why they wouldn’t volunteer. Universally, he got the same answer: the man didn’t know how to swim. Lord Osbourne would make a note of this so that the next summer he would teach the man to swim. By the second winter, the man would usually be a good swimmer and thus volunteering.

One raft was always left without a volunteer. That raft was for James Brock. Mr. Brock was a hired hand of Lord Osbourne’s. He had been a hireling of the lord’s since his days in England. William trusted James and he knew that he could handle any situation the men might run into on the river. James knew the waters in this part of the Colony better than the Indians did. Lord Osbourne was grateful to have him.

This year the men were more conscience of what they were doing. Lord Osbourne saw to that. Another aspect that had not gone unnoticed was Joseph. He was conspicuously absent from the logging. Lord Osbourne had not been asked where his son was, but one morning he volunteered to the men that Joseph was studying law and the ministry, and that winter was the best time for him to do that. No one believed the Englishman, nor did they say anything against him. They all knew that Lord Osbourne was protecting his son. They never spoke of it in front of him.

Lord Osbourne had not been untruthful to the men. Joseph had to study the law for four hours a day and he had to study his Bible at least an hour a day. Twice a week the town parson would come to visit, and he would bring lessons for Joseph. He would evaluate Joseph’s progress and report it back to William.

The parson was a tough taskmaster. He had high standards, and he demanded that from all his pupils. Joseph was one of his brightest students, and he often told William that Joseph would make an outstanding pastor in the future. Although, he wanted Joseph to know and follow God, William wanted his son to be a barrister. The Colony was thriving, and as she grew, a good lawyer could rise to a very prominent position. He wanted Joseph to be in a place where the young man could take advantage of the future.

Joseph did not disappoint his father. He liked studying the Bible, especially the historical parts, but he loved studying both law and military history. Joseph’s desire was to be a soldier. Since childhood, he dreamed of commanding troops in battle. In his mind, he had beaten the French, Dutch, Prussians, Russians, Spanish and Ottoman Turks. He devised strategies that would have allowed Hannibal to win at Zama and the Celts to defeat Caesar.

Joseph often dreamed of joining the Royal Military Academy. He had talked to some of the officers that his father had invited to dinner over the years. It seemed to him that the more brilliant and stately officers had all been graduates of the academy. “The academy teaches more than just military tactics,” said one of them a few years back. “It will teach you how to be a gentleman, as well.”

Joseph longed for that life. He romanticized it in his mind. He dreamed of the officer’s ball and how he would have the pick of the loveliest girls in all of England and the Colonies. The men made it sound so wonderful that he could not even imagine his father denying him this opportunity.

When he was about fifteen, Joseph asked his father about the academy. Joseph had expected his father to gush over him and state how proud he was of his son. Instead, Lord Osbourne grew angry and told Joseph that he was never to speak of such a thing again. Shocked, hurt and disappointed, Joseph never again mentioned it to his father. To this day, he could not understand why his father didn’t want him to be a soldier. His father had served as an officer himself. He had spent ten years in the military and had risen to the rank of colonel. He assumed that his father would want him to do that as well, but his father was dead set against it.

Joseph loved and respected his father; therefore, he never spoke of his dream to his father again. Still, he yearned for that life. He carried several books of various types with him at all times. He kept the Bible and a law book just to throw his father off the track. He also kept a copy of the Iliad and the Odyssey. He loved these books. Finally, he kept a small book of military strategy. Whenever he was, alone he would pull this book out and study it. He had nearly memorized the whole book. In his mind, he knew how to defeat his enemy in any given situation. He hoped that one day he would be able to use it.

It was an unusually warm December morning when the first set of eight rafts was to be sent down the water to the gathering point. Mr. Brock and his seven volunteers were about ready to head down stream when Lord Osbourne gathered all the men together and did something unusual. He asked the men to bow their heads, and he prayed for a safe journey. Having never seen him do this before, some of the men took this as a bad omen. One of the seven volunteers offered to give up his spot to anyone who would like it. That spooked the men even more, and there were no volunteers as a result.

Seeing what was going on with the men, Lord Osbourne stated that he had grown closer to God the past few months and that he was merely asking God to bless the trip. This did little to comfort the men. In fact, it made them all the more nervous. Lost at what to do, William instructed the men to push the rafts into the river and to begin the journey.

Mr. Brock was on the first raft. He poled it a little down stream and then stopped to wait for the rest of the men. The second, third and fourth raft were pushed in and poled to the center without incident.

The fifth raft was to be poled down stream by a relatively new indentured named Joshua. He was a young man and could not have been over eighteen. He was a tall lanky dark-haired, brown-eyed man. He spoke with an unusual accent. Some one had told Anthony that the man was Welsh, but Anthony couldn’t say for sure. He had heard the Welsh accent and this man’s accent, was unusual even for a Welshman.

Joshua was wobbly on his feet the instant he hopped on the raft. He nearly fell into the creek when he jumped from the bank onto the raft. It took several seconds for him to steady himself, but he finally managed to do it.

“Are you all right?” asked Lord Osbourne. He was deeply concerned for the lad.

“Fine, sir,” returned the young man. “I just need to get my balance. Give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes sir, I’m fine.” He had forgotten his pole and his bag of food when he jumped onto the raft. Realizing this, he asked someone to hand him his stuff. One of the other men handed him the pole. Another, who was obviously not thinking picked up the bag of food and tossed it to the young man. Despite his denials to the contrary, Joshua had never fully gotten his composure on the raft. When he stretched to catch the leather bag, he over extended himself and fell into the creek.

The men began to laugh. No one had ever fallen into the water before the trip had gotten underway. Even Anthony who did not take pleasure in others discomfort began to chuckle. Lord Osbourne was not amused. He was concerned for the young man. “Shut up!” He shouted to the men and they obeyed. “That wasn’t funny!”

The men quieted after William’s command. “Somebody get him out of the water,” shouted William. One of the volunteers that was still on the bank had already extended a pole and was ready to pull in the young man the second he came out of the water.

Several seconds passed and Joshua never emerged form the deep. “Where is he?” Shouted Mr. Brock. No one answered.

“How deep is the water?” asked a very frightened William.

“About fifteen to eighteen feet,” said Mr. Brock.

Without saying another word, Mr. Brock dove into the water. He had to find Joshua. Within a few seconds, his head popped out of the water. He shouted that he had not found Joshua and asked if anyone had seen the young man. No One had. Again, Mr. Brock went under looking for the young man and again he came up empty. He did this several times and each time he came up, he was empty-handed.

As the tension mounted, a second and then a third man dove in the water after Joshua. After a couple of minutes there were six men including Anthony and Lord Osbourne searching the water for Joshua. Over and over the men submerged into the water, each time coming up empty.

Some of the men on shore had taken some of the poles and were raking through the water looking for the young man. As the time slipped by, the men’s concern began to grow into horror and finally stopped at hopelessness. It had been at least three minutes since Joshua fell into the water and the men were trembling with fear. Some secretly cursed Lord Osbourne for the prayer he had offered. In their minds, they knew this was the reason for their bad luck.

Mr. Brock emerged again. His breathing was shallow and sporadic. Fear was etched across his face. “Has anyone found him?” he shouted. There was no answer. “Has anyone found him?” he shouted a second time. Again, there was no answer.

Without saying another word, Mr. Brock took a deep breath and dove as deep as he could. The water was dark, and he could not see where he was going, but he could feel the bottom of the stream with his hands. He ran his hands across the floor of the stream. He did this until his lungs screamed from pain, but still he forced himself to stay down just a little longer. He was on the verge of passing out so he pushed off the bottom with his feet and headed for the surface. He prayed that someone had found the boy.

Wooooooooof. His lungs sucked in a deep breath of air the second he surfaced. He sucked in a great deal of water along with the air and he spent the next few precious seconds coughing the water out of his lungs. “Has anyone found Joshua,” he shouted. This time his voice rang with the sound of desperation. Again, no one answered.

One of the men on the shore had passed out. During the search, he had gotten so involved with things, that he unconsciously held his breath until he became light-headed and blacked out from lack of oxygen. One of the men rushed to help the fallen man. When he got there, his fallen comrade had opened his eyes and was trying to regain his bearing. The second man didn’t say a word. Realizing his companion was unhurt; He ran back and renewed his search for Joshua.

The long seconds dragged into minutes and still no sign of the Welshman had been found. The search became more intense and the men began to grow impatient and frightened. As the fear and frustration levels increased, the men began grow edgy towards each other. They didn’t mean to take it out on each other, but as the intensity grew so did the realization that Joshua was now dead. This disheartened the men and they handled it the only way they knew how, by verbally attacking each other.

They started snapping at each other for no reason. Twice within minutes, fights between the men had to be stopped. This only added to the group’s fears and frustrations. Even the normally jovial Lord Osbourne was being tortured by his own mind. “The next two men that we catch fighting will face the whip!” William had screamed this at the top of his lungs. He had never spoken to the men in such a way. The men knew this, and they realized that Lord Osbourne was angry and scared and therefore, was not making an idle threat.

After an hour of intense adrenaline charged searching, many of the men began to collapse from exhaustion. “It’s been over an hour,” stated Mr. Brock to Lord Osbourne. “He’s dead, and I don’t think we’re going to find his body.” Lord Osbourne wanted to say no, but he too was on the very edge of exhaustion, so he didn’t say a thing. He looked up at Mr. Brock and shook his head in agreement.

Mr. Brock could see the fear and compassion in his boss’s eyes. The incident with Thomas last year had a deep impact on the Englishman. Lord Osbourne had made it his policy that no man was to be severely injured while under his care. Now here was one who had died. Mr. Brock knew in his heart that this would cause his boss untold grief. The one thing above all else that Lord Osbourne possessed was compassion. Brock knew that Lord Osbourne would likely never get over this event. He still had not gotten over what happened to Thomas, and no one had been killed there. “This’ll destroy him,” thought James. Deep within his heart, he knew that Lord Osbourne would never be the same after this.

“Give it up,” shouted Mr. Brock to the men. They ignored him and went back to their searching. “Give it up I said.” This time his voice was more forceful, but still the men would not listen. He began to rant and yell at them. He demanded that they give up their useless search. Those that were still able continued with the fruitless search. After two minutes of non-stop ranting, Mr. Brock ran over to the closest man with a pole and pushed him down. The man fell backwards onto the ground and almost into the water. As the man fell, he dropped his pole. The pole hit James on the shoulder and that only infuriated him. “I said give it up!” With that, he began to run around to the other men that were still searching and he physically forced them to quit the search. He didn’t have to force them all, because some of the men saw what he was doing and quit on their own accord.

Once the men on the shore had stopped, Mr. Brock ordered the rest of the men out of the water. As each man climbed on shore, he collapsed onto the ground. When all had been accounted for, he collapsed on the ground himself.

The men laid there for well over an hour. Each one exhausted by the experience. After nearly an hour and a half had passed, Anthony finally stood up on his feet. His body was so tired that he wobbled when he first stood erect. It took him several seconds before he was able to gain and keep his balance. He walked around and counted the men. There had been twenty of them that had left this morning. This number included himself, Mr. Brock and Lord Osbourne. This time he counted only nineteen. “Thank God,” he thought, as he feared that during all the excitement they might have lost another one. Once the counting was finished, Anthony collapsed back on the ground and fell into an exhaustive sleep.

Several hours later Anthony was awakened by a gentle slap on his shoulder. “Are you all right?” asked the man who was now hovering over Anthony. Anthony didn’t say a word, but he nodded to indicate that he was fine. “We’re leaving,” stated the man. “It’s almost dark. Are you coming with us or are you staying with the dead?” The man had not meant for it to sound as coarse as it had. Anthony shot a menacing glance at him. “I didn’t mean it that way,” he said. An angered Anthony started to say something but he caught the man’s eyes and saw he was telling the truth, so he let it pass.

“Let’s look one more time,” shouted Mr. Brock. The hopelessness he emitted earlier was now covered with despair. He didn’t expect to find anything. He had given up hope hours ago. He was merely saying this for the men and especially for Lord Osbourne’s sake. He knew William and he knew how his boss would react. Lord Osbourne would blame himself, and he would grieve over this for years. Even though it had not been his fault, he would still blame himself. He always did in situations like this.

Mr. Brock looked at his boss as Lord Osbourne sat there looking dejected. The nobleman had his head bowed and his body seemed to be convulsing up and down. At first, James wasn’t sure what to make of it, and then he understood. Lord Osbourne was crying to himself. Not wanting the men to see this side of their boss in such a state, Mr. Brock went around and ordered each one to do one last sweep. He sent each man in a different direction. He wanted them to depart away from Lord Osbourne. He wanted to give the Englishman a few minutes alone to grieve and then compose himself. The nobleman was so lost in his own vexation that he wasn’t aware of what Brock was trying to do.

Anthony at first was perplexed. He couldn’t believe that Brock would be so cruel as to force these men to keep looking when it was obvious Joshua was dead. He started to protest, but as he stood up to go confront Brock; he saw Lord Osbourne and instantly realized what the man was doing. Without stopping his stride, Anthony began to clap his hands together and said, “You heard the man! Let’s get moving. One more short search won’t take that much time.”

The men had been reluctant to restart the search under Mr. Brock, but they began to respond to Anthony. “Come on,” shouted the Highlander as he tried to encourage the men to look one more time. He walked around to each man and clapped his hands in a way to motivate them to get up and be about the task. When he passed by Brock, the Englishman gently patted the Scotsman on the back. Anthony took it for what it had been meant to be; a sign of gratitude. He acknowledged the man’s gesture by nodding his head in agreement.

That simple little gesture by both men would be the beginning of a long trusting friendship. The split second Brock touched Anthony and the Scotsman nodded in agreement, both men knew that a bond of friendship had just been born. This was an adversity bond, which is the type a man forms only under deep emotional stress. This is always the hardest bond to break.

Once all the men departed, Brock walked over to Lord Osbourne and asked, “Are you all right?” The man’s face was a combination of shame, gratitude and pain knitted together in an eerie fashion. He looked at Brock and then over to Anthony. He tried to smile but couldn’t. The two knew this was his way of thanking them for what they had just done. The fake smile soon became a grimace as his mind raced back to the events that had taken place over the past few hours. Trying to make sense of it all, he couldn’t come up with a reason as to why this was happening.

“You should go on ahead,” stated Brock. “Anthony and I can handle it from here.” He looked at the Scotsman and said, “Can’t we?” Anthony looked at the two men and nodded his head in agreement.

“I can’t,” returned William. “I can’t leave these men here like this. It wouldn’t be the right.”

“You have to,” retorted Brock. “The men don’t need to see you like this. They’d lose respect for you. I’d never let that happen.”

“Respect can fly to Hades! I could care less about respect at this moment! All I can think about is Joshua. He was a nice man. He had a bright future. He had abilities and the Colonies are the perfect place for a man with abilities. He would’ve made something of himself.”

Lord Osbourne started to go on with his speech, but he choked with grief before he could get out another word. He looked up at Brock and tears welled up in his eyes. As he began to shake from the pain, the Englishman bowed his head and began to cry.

Mr. Brock looked at Anthony and said, “Keep the men out there until he composes himself. I don’t want them to see him in this vulnerable position. They’d lose respect for him.” Anthony looked at Brock then at the sobbing nobleman. He shook his head in agreement. He left the two alone as he went into the woods to search for the others.

Within twenty minutes, Anthony had gathered up all the men. He would not allow them to return to the clearing until he had accounted for each one of them. He told them that he wanted to ensure that no one else got hurt. This was true, but it was also his way of stalling so that Lord Osbourne would have enough time to compose himself. When he had found the last man, he took a round about way back to the clearing. He figured he had been gone about forty minutes and hoped that would be enough time for his boss. He couldn’t stall any longer.

Lord Osbourne was gone when the men arrived at the clearing. Mr. Brock told them that he had gone back to the manor so he could send someone to the reverend’s house so arrangements could be made for Joshua’s funeral.

The nobleman managed to stumble his way back to the manor. He was not fully cognizant of his surroundings. Sheer luck or the “Grace of God” was the only reason he made it back to the plantation unhurt. He opened the door, fell into the living room, and lay there several minutes before his wife found him.

“William!” She screamed the instant she saw him. Terror echoed through the mansion like mountaineer’s yodel. She ran to him, fell down beside her husband, and gently cradled his head in her lap.

“William, what is going on?”

“Joshua,” was all he was able to say.

“Joshua, who,” she asked not understanding his meaning.

“Joshua,” he repeated a second time. Unable to comprehend what her husband was saying, Lady Osbourne cradled his head in her lap. “Joshua,” cried William a third and fourth time. After several unsuccessful attempts to speak, William merely said, “Joshua is dead.”

“Joshua who?” questioned Lady Osbourne. Unable to say any more, the Englishman repeated, “Joshua is dead.” His voice was barely a whisper. Without saying another word, he buried his face into his wife’s lap and remained silent over the next few minutes as he tried to regain his senses.

Lady Osbourne called for the servants. They helped her get William to his feet. Once he was able to walk, they took him to the kitchen to clean him up a bit. Somehow, he managed to hobble his way into the kitchen on his own, but he spoke to no one. One of the servants sent a young girl to find Samson. If anyone could find out what was going on, it would be Samson.

Lord Osbourne was lying on the kitchen floor when Samson arrived. As the elderly man entered the room, he saw the nobleman resting on the floor. At first, he thought his friend had collapsed from a disease. “Goodness,” shouted the older man. “What happened?” Samson kneeled down beside Lord Osbourne and then tried to help his boss to his feet. It took three attempts before he was able to get the Englishman to stand.

“What happened?” asked Samson a second time. Lord Osbourne looked up at his old friend and began to weep. At that instant, Samson knew it was not sickness, but a broken heart that was causing the man to weep. “Where’s Joseph?” shouted Samson. Panic echoed in his voice. Before anyone could say a word, Lord Osbourne whispered, “Joshua.”

“Joshua?” asked one of the kitchen maids. Lord Osbourne did not say a word.

“Joshua,” thought Samson. “The Joshua in the Bible,” questioned the former servant, but he knew that couldn’t be it. “Does anyone know a Joshua?”

No one said a word for a couple of minutes. Finally, a little black girl looking to be about eight years old stepped forward and said, “We have a new servant named Joshua.” Lord Osbourne moaned.

“Is that him?” asked Samson. Again, Lord Osbourne moaned through his tears. Looking at one of the servants, Samson commanded, “Sally Ann get him some tea.” The woman exhaled in acknowledgement and then went to fetch the man a drink.

“What happened to Joshua?” asked Samson again. Lord Osbourne struggled to keep from sobbing, and try as he might, could only manage the word, “dead.” Several of the women took in deep breaths when they heard that. Then the place got deathly silent and no one spoke for several seconds. Finally, Samson broke the silence with a series of one-word questions.

“Dead? How? When? Where?” Before Lord Osbourne had time to recompose himself, the little girl that had spoken earlier said, “Overseer Mr. Brock his here.”

The foreman entered the room and most of the crowd parted so that he could reach his boss. He was thankful that Lord Osbourne had made it as far as he had. The day’s events had shaken Lord Osbourne so badly that Brock had not expected William to make home on his own. He was half expecting to have to send out search party to find his boss. The foreman was both relieved and concerned when he saw the nobleman lying on the floor.

“Samson, help me get him upstairs!” shouted Brock as he bent over Lord Osbourne and gently tried to help his boss up to his feet. Samson went to help, but thought better of it when he realized he would be more of a hindrance than help until the nobleman was on his feet.

After three tries, Brock managed to get his master on his feet. He stood on the right side of Lord Osbourne and he placed the man’s arm and his neck and attempted to balance the Englishman by placing his left arm on the man’s back. He motioned for Samson to do the same.

The men half carried and half-dragged Lord Osbourne up to his room. Brock was thankful that Lady Osbourne had sent the children to visit cousins for the week. He didn’t want them to see their father like this. It took several minutes, but they finally manage to drag the nobleman into bed. As he hit the bed, Lord Osbourne moaned one time and then passed out from exhaustion. He would sleep through the next morning.

After heading back to the kitchen, Brock gave everyone he could find orders not to tell the children when they arrived at the end of the upcoming week. He also told them that they should keep what happened to themselves. He wanted to threaten them, but thought better of it.

After dismissing everybody but Samson, James looked at the older gentleman and said,
“You keep an eye on him. I’ll arrange for the funeral. We’ll have some kind of ceremony even though there’s no body.” The older man nodded his head and headed back up the stairs to watch over his friend.

James Brock knew that Lord Osbourne was not as strong as he had been prior to settling in the Colonies. The Englishman had once been a brave and noble man that feared nothing, but all this had slowly changed over the last fifteen years. The man that stood so bravely on the battlefield in days past now seemed afraid of nearly everything. It ate at Brock’s soul when he thought about how far his friend had fallen since his days at the King’s court.

It would be several days before Lord Osbourne would get over the initial shock of losing Joshua. Although, he would get somewhat better before his children came, he would never quite be the same. He would grieve about the day’s incident until the day he died.

The funeral was a single one-hour event. A pastor resided over the services and an empty box was buried on a hill overlooking the plantation. The servants were given a half day off in order to mourn the loss of the young man.

His body was never recovered from the creek and many people thought that was strange. They expected his body to eventually float down to the damn. It never did, but the raft and several bags of food disappeared as well. A legend still exists to this day would eventually grow up around Joshua’s death. Over the past two centuries, there have been several sightings of a ghost of a young man dressed in colonial attire. In every story, the witnesses claimed to have seen water dripping from the ghost. To this day, many people refuse to swim in the water for fear of the ghost.

Anthony was working in the cornfield when the overlord called for him. “Lord Osbourne wants to see you.”

“What for? What kind of mood was he in when you left him?”

“I don’t know, but he didn’t appear to be in a bad mood. My guess is that it ain’t nothing bad.”

“I hope not.” Anthony’s voice did little to disguise his nervousness.

“When have you ever seen him do a vile act?” The man’s voice was reassuring, but it did little to comfort Anthony. There seemed to be a mischievous tone in the man’s voice.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be surprised by something terrible.”

“You won’t be. I give you my word.” Anthony needed no more assurance. The overlord was a man whose word meant everything to him. He never lied as far as Anthony knew and he did not participate in harmful jests. These two combined to convince Anthony that nothing bad was about to happen to him. Having his doubts sated, the Scotsman smiled, slapped the man on the left shoulder and turned toward the main house.

“Good luck,” shouted the man.

“Thanks,” returned Anthony as he began to increase his pace to a slow jog. Within a few minutes, he was on the porch of the main house. He knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. It would be Lord Osbourne who would answer.

“Anthony,” said the Englishman through smiling lips as he motioned for the Scotsman to take a seat. “I have a job that needs to be completed, and I was wondering if you would like to do it?”

Not sure what to say, Anthony asked, “What do you need?” As he questioned the manor’s Lord, he tried to conger up in his mind the images of what it could possibly be that Lord Osbourne wanted him to do. In his mind, he prayed for comfort.

“Within a month, Timothy, one of my most trusted indentures will have finished his contract. I have begged him to stay, but he wants to go to the Carolinas and start his own plantation. I can’t fault him for that every man wanted to be his own boss.

“With his departure, I’m left in a very difficult situation. I have very few indentures that I trust enough to put in Timothy’s place. Timothy is an honest and gifted man. He’ll be successful with his plantation. Replacing him has been my most difficult challenge of the last few months. I’ve been at my wit’s end trying to find a suitable replacement…”

Knowing where the conversation was heading, but feigning ignorance, Anthony asked, “What’s that got to do with me?” Try has he might, he could not hide the grin that had now swept across his face.

Lord Osbourne looked at Anthony, saw the smile and realized the Scotsman knew what was taking place. “Ah, all right, I want you to replace him!” Anthony detected the sound of disappointment in the man’s voice. Lord Osbourne was a man that loved the dramatic. Anthony’s smile changed once he realized that he had unintentionally stolen the Englishman’s thunder.

“Really?” thundered Anthony.

“Of course,” returned Lord Osbourne. “You’re the most trusted man I have left. That is the reason I didn’t end your contract. I couldn’t afford to lose you and Timothy both.”

“Thank you,” said Anthony as he swelled up with pride.

“Here’s my proposition to you Anthony. You have four and a half years left on your contract. If you’ll spend them helping me run the plantation, I’ll give you your own piece of land and will pay you a good wage once your contract is up. I can always use a man like you.

“Look at you. You have the qualities I need in a foreman. You are smart, level headed, quick to catch on and productive. That is a rare combination. I can use those qualities. I wish I had a dozen like you.

“I don’t know why you left Scotland. Frankly, I don’t care why. I base my opinions on the things I observe, and I have observed you to be a hard working, honest man.”

“Thank you,” returned Anthony. “I don’t know what to say to you. I am obliged that you feel this way. It’s a lot to think about.” He began to mull these things over in his mind, when it suddenly hit him. “What about Thomas?”

“What about him?”

“I’m all Thomas has in this world. I can’t make plans about the future without including him. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Thomas has and will always have a home here with my family. What he did for us, will never be forgotten. Joseph is the only son I have and without Tom, Joseph wouldn’t be here. Put your mind at ease. Thomas has become a part of my family. We’ll always provide for him.”

“Again, I thank you. You’ve given me much to think about. I’ll need time to mull it over in my mind before I make a decision.”

“As you wish.”

Nodding his approval, Anthony turned to leave the porch when Lord Osbourne called for him. “Anthony, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Am I?”

“Why, did I call you? Don’t you remember?”

Shrugging his shoulders in ignorance, Anthony said, “I thought it was to discuss your offer.”

“That’s part of it, but there is also a second part. If you’re going to take Timothy’s job, you might as well start learning it today.” Reaching in his right vest pocket, Lord Osbourne pulled out a list and handed to Anthony.

“You do know how to read? I’ve seen it.”

“Yes, but not it’s been awhile.”

“Can you read this?”

Taking it from the overlord’s hand, he unsealed it and began to read it. “It appears to be a list of some sorts.”

“That is exactly what it is. I need you to pick these things up for me.”

“How can I do that?”

“You’ll accompany Timothy on his weekly run to town. You’ll accompany him on the next three until you learn the routine. After that, it’ll become your responsibility.”

Smiling, Anthony said, “Yes sir!” He turned and nearly jumped off the porch in his excitement.

“Anthony,” called Lord Osbourne. The Scotsman stopped in his tracks and turned to see what the nobleman wanted. Before Anthony could respond, Lord Osbourne said, “When you get back, go see my seamstress, she’ll make you a more appropriate suite. After all, an overseer shouldn’t be dressed like a farm hand.”

Nodding his approval, Anthony turned and ran to the barn.

The barn was a flurry of activity. Timothy and several other hands were busy loading items on three wagons. Each wagon had a set of horses hitched to it. Something was odd about the wagons but Anthony couldn’t quite place what it was. The carts were fine, but something stuck out about them. Try as he might, he couldn’t put his finger on it.

As Anthony drew near the wagons, Timothy noticed him, stuck his hand out, and said, “So, you’re my replacement? Lord Osbourne has been saying for months that he was going to find me one. It’s about time he did. You’re a Scotsman. I’m English myself, but I like Scotsmen. They’re good workers and a hardy bunch.”

Anthony stopped about six feet away from Timothy and listened to him. As he was speaking, Timothy dropped his extended hand when it became obvious that Anthony was not going to shake it. It wasn’t that Anthony didn’t like the man; it was that he had forgotten amiss all the excitement.

“Don’t you like Englishmen,” questioned Timothy.

“What?” Anthony was taken aback with the question.

The Englishman’s voice was more playful than anything else. He could see that there was no malice in Anthony’s eyes. “I said, don’t you like Englishmen?”

“No. I mean, yes. Well, no.” Anthony stumbled across his words and Timothy laughed.

“I know. I was only poking fun at you. It’s a big change isn’t it?”

“Yes!”

“Lord Osbourne must think very highly of you. You are the first Scotsman that he’s ever had as an overseer. He usually picks Englishmen.” Timothy was still having fun with Anthony and chuckled at his own cleverness. He said what he had said to see if he could get a rise out of the Scotsman. Anthony knew what he was doing and therefore retaliated in like kind.

“Now his plantation will finally be run correctly,” returned Anthony.

Timothy looked at Anthony, laughed and realized he was going to like the Scotsman. Anthony heard the laugh and realized the same thing about the Englishman.

The trip to town was a journey filled with both fascination and jubilation for Anthony. Like a child viewing a wondrous new toy for the first time, he couldn’t contain his excitement. He tried to memorize every tree and every bump in the road. The first time he had made a trip on this road, he was too depressed to notice anything, but now this trip was like Christmas and Easter all rolled into one.

Never had the sky been so blue. Never had the trees been so green. Never in the history of humanity had a valley been as beautiful as the one through which he was now riding.

The excitement of it all made him fidgety so he couldn’t remain still for very long. He had to drink in as much as he possibly could. In all his life, he could not think of day as glorious as this one. For the first time since he had left Scotland, he knew that he had made the right decision. Suddenly all the doubts and fears melted away and he sat there enraptured in the moment. Life was perfect and he knew it. He bowed his head and whispered a word of thanks to God.

“Sit still!” shouted the Englishman. “You are wearing me out just watching you.”

“Have you ever seen anything as wonderful as this countryside,” questioned Anthony.

“Are you jesting?” Timothy began to laugh and then shouted at another driver. “Hey, Willie, this one has got the fever. He’s choking on it.”

“Always happens to them the first time,” returned a voice. Anthony didn’t know who Willie was and neither did he care to know. He was too entranced with the scenery to notice anything else.

“Not this bad. He’s broke down with it. If it were a disease, he’d be dead by now.” The men were having a laugh at Anthony’s expense, but he neither noticed nor cared. He was too busy basking in the glow of his newfound freedom.

The trip took about two hours, but to Anthony it seemed to be only minutes. The second the town came into view the excitement began to well up anew. Fantasies piled upon daydreams entwined with visions enwrapped with hopes engulfed his mind and deliriously entertained his thoughts. Would it be as he imagined? He didn’t know, but he was choking with anticipation to find out for sure.

As they approached town, he began to lean forward in his seat. Subconsciously, he assumed that by leaning forward, it would increase his speed and he would arrive all the sooner.

Town was a wondrous and fascinating place for Anthony. With the exception of selling himself into indenturehood, he had never been out of the Highlands. The only time he spent in a city was as he was preparing to board ship. That was a brief time, and he was so busy thinking about having said goodbye to his clan that he never got to experience any of the city. Today was going to be different, he thought to himself.

Without realizing it, his mind switched gears on him. He began to reminisce about the old country. He thought of his clan that he had left behind. Ian and Michael, two of his first cousins, were the two he missed the most. Ian was a bear of a man like Thomas, but unlike Thomas, Ian was an intelligent and therefore sly man. He loved to play practical jokes, but didn’t like receiving them. Since few in the clan could beat him in a fight, he was rarely ever on the receiving end of a joke.

Michael on the other hand was long, lanky and extremely fast. He possessed an extraordinary intellect. He was one of the few in the clan that could best Ian. Michael would simply use his speed and dance around Ian until the big man tired out and then Michael would move in and finish him off with a quick series of kicks and punches.

Once when they fought, Ian feigned being winded, and when Michael moved in on him, Ian pounced on Michael. The fight was over within seconds. In a fit of rage, Ian nearly killed his cousin and best friend. Had Ian’s father not intervened, he might have killed Michael.

Realizing how close he had come to killing his cousin, Ian was devastated and took a vow never to fight a kinsman again. To the day he left Scotland, Anthony had not heard of Ian striking another clansman. The family left Ian alone as well because they saw what he did to members of rival clans. As a result, a truce was declared amongst the clansmen. No one bothered Ian and he bothered no one in return.

Smiling, Anthony realized that Michael was the most able to lead the clan. He possessed all the skills it took to be a good leader. He was smart, crafty and a good warrior. Anthony knew that the clan was in able hands, but he still wished he were there.

Every time he began to reminisce about home, he would stop and remind himself that he would have eventually been caught and hanged if he remained in Scotland. Killing soldiers of the crown, even if they deserved it, was considered treason and therefore a hanging offense in Scotland. His presence in Scotland meant a death sentence for him and many of his clan. He left not because he was afraid of dying but to prevent his family from being hurt by his folly. One day, he thought. I’ll get my chance and the English will pay dearly for what they did to me and my clan.

With every passing minute, he came closer and closer to town. In the distance, he could only make out a large blur. As he approached it, he was able to make out individual buildings and then he noticed wagons, horses, animals and people mulling around the village. He was shocked and amazed at the number of people he saw.

“Look at all those people,” he said. He was surprised that he said it aloud for that was not his intent.

“This ain’t no big town,” replied his companion. “London is many times the size of this.”

“I don’t believe it. You can’t possibly get that many people together without them killing each other off.”

“Oh, they do that, but someone always takes their place.”

“You’re jesting with me?” laughed Anthony.

“Nope, I’m being straight with you.”

Anthony tried to envision in his mind what London must look like. In his mind’s eye, he saw everyone he had ever known in the Highlands and he put them in a small village. Try as he might, he had difficulty comprehending the entire concept. It was a totally alien notion for him to grasp. He could see a small village, and he could picture the faces of the hundreds of people he knew from the highlands, but he could not put the two concepts together. It didn’t seem natural that people would want to live together like ants or bees. At that moment, he decided that a city might be a nice place to visit, but he was a Highlander, and if this colony had a highland mountain, then that’s were he was going to live.

“We’re here,” shouted the driver, but Anthony never heard him. Anthony was lost in his thoughts. “Hey, Scotsman. We’re here.” Frustrated and amused at the same time, the man shouted to Anthony three times.

“What?” asked Anthony as he was awakened from his thoughts.

“I said, we’re here,” laughed his companion. “Hop down and help me fill this list.” Without saying a word, Anthony nodded his head and followed the man into the trading post.

Timothy went straight to the counter and began to take a list from out of a small leather bag he had been carrying around his neck and across his body. Anthony on the other hand, walked through the door and started on the left and began to walk counter clockwise around the large storeroom. The Scotsman hadn’t gone far when someone entered from a room off to his left. He knew the person was there, but he could not make him out, nor did he care to at that particular moment, for he was too wrapped up in his fascination with the store.

A fat balding man ran the trading post. He spoke with an accent that Anthony didn’t recognize. “Goot tay, Gentlesmen,” he said with a smile. “Vhat do ye need? Look around,” he said motioning with his hand. “Ve have an egzellent zelection of vares for ye.”

“Dutchie,” replied Anthony’s companion. “Come here,” he said as he motioned for Anthony to meet him at the counter. At first, Anthony didn’t hear Timothy and it was not until the third or fourth call that Anthony heard.

“What?” asked Anthony as he realized he was being called. He turned in the direction in which he thought the voice was coming. He noticed Timothy and a plump middle-aged man laughing. “What?” asked Anthony again as he shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

“Come over here and meet Dutchie,” replied Timothy as he motioned for Anthony with his left hand. Realizing that he was being rude, Anthony frowned and said, “Oh, sorry.” With that, he began to make his way over to the others.

“Anthony, this is Peter, Peter, uh uh.” Timothy stumbled across the last name as he gestured to the man with his left hand.

“Kampfhammer,” injected the man.

“We call him ‘Dutchie,” Timothy said.

Anthony reached out his hand and smiled. Dutchie did the same. “Dutchie, this is Anthony. He’s a Scotsman, but he’s all right,” replied Timothy.

“Iz dis the vone ye vere tellink me about?” The man had a smile that put everyone at ease the second they saw him. Though he was a huge man with strong hands, arms and legs, he had a kindly fat old priest look to him. Still, Anthony had learned to read people very early in life, and he instinctively knew that this was not a man to be trifled with, for he could be dangerous should the need arise.

“Yes, that’s him,” stated Timothy as he looked from Mr. Kampfhammer to Anthony. “He’s not a bad sort, well for a Scotsman.” Timothy began to laugh, and the rotund Mr. Kampfhammer joined in the merriment. “How long do you think it will take him to break Lord Osbourne?” Timothy asked slyly. He was waiting to see what kind of reaction the Scotsman would give.

Understanding Tim’s intentions, Anthony laughed and said, “He’ll have to build more barns just to keep all the stuff I’ll fetch for him.”

“Do tell,” returned Timothy. Anthony and he verbally jousted for several minutes. Occasionally, Kampfhammer would join in the fray in order to keep the nerves calm. He understood that the Englishman and the Scotsman liked each other personally, but neither liked the fact that the other had been born into a country that was hostile to his home country.

“Ve have heart goot tings about ye,” stated Dutchie. “Lord Osbourne haz been imprezzet vid ye.”

“Why, do they call you Dutchie,” asked Anthony. “Are you from the Lowlands?”

“Vhat doest ye know about the Lowlandz,” asked Dutchie.

“Not much. I know that the Dutch people live in the Lowlands. I just figured you were Dutch.”

“I vas born in Russia. Mein parentz vere Prussian. Mein fatzer vas a craftzman az vas hiz fatzer. Ve hath been craftzman for generationz. Mein fatzer’s grandfatzer came to a German colony in eaztern Russia. Mein family haz been dere for over one hundred yearz.

“I vanted adwenture und dezided to step out on mein own. I traveled to Berlin und from dere I traveled to the Lowlandz. In Amsterdam, I ran out of money. Dere I vorked as a craftzman. Mein family vere clock und vatch makerz. I earned enough to get to England und from England I made mein vay to Wirginia. Here I meet a girl named Mary und ve married. I vorked the craft long enough to earn zome money to ztart dis buzinezz. Ve are in our fourteenth year. My zon will take over for me when I die.”

“So, you’re a Prussian born in Russia and called Dutchie?” inquired Anthony.

“Dat iz correct.”

“So why do they call you Dutchie?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll call you, Mr. Kampfhammer, if that’s alright with you?”

The big German smiled and didn’t say a word, but Anthony could see the look of gratitude in the man’s eyes. Anthony was one of the few people that had ever call Dutchie by his real name and, Mr. Kampfhammer was truly grateful. Anthony winked at the big man. Mr. Kampfhammer smiled and said, “Ye are the virst vone that ever asket vere I vas from, danka.”

“I won’t be the last,” said Anthony as he returned the man’s smile.

“Ya, I believe ye.” Mr. Kampfhammer started to say something but the mood didn’t seem appropriate, so he stopped, looked at Timothy and said, “Vhat can ve get ye dis mornink?”

“I have a huge order from Lord Osbourne…

“How iz da lord doink?” asked Dutchie before Timothy could start his list.

“Fine,” returned Tim. “He’s as jolly as ever.” Tim and Dutchie began to laugh. “Come to think of it,” stated Timothy. “I don’t think I have ever seen him in a bad mood, except when Joseph nearly got killed. He certainly got worked up over that. He sulked for a week after that. It was not until ‘Big Tom’ got better that the old man became more of himself again.”

“Bik Tom, I do not know of dis man?” “Iz he a friend?”

“He’s a cousin to Anthony,” whispered Tim as he pointed to Anthony with his thumb. “Lord Osbourne bought them as a team a couple of years back.”

“Vhy doth ye call him ‘Bik Tom,” asked Dutchie.

“It fits. He’s bigger than you are, twice as strong and half as smart…

“Bide your tongue!” Anthony shouted as he began to become offended by the Englishman’s talk of Thomas.

“Sorry,” stammered Timothy as he realized Anthony had taken offense at his characterization of Thomas. “I meant no harm to the man’s reputation.”

“See that you keep it that way,” demanded Anthony.

Without saying a word, Timothy turned back to Dutchie and began reading off the list. After he had finished, he looked at Dutchie and asked, “How long will it take to fill this order?”

“Tree to vour hourz.”

“Good,” Tim stated. Motioning for Anthony to follow, Tim called, “Come on Scotsman, we have an important matter to attend.” With that, he slapped his right hand on the counter. “Dutchie, if you need us, we will be at the pub.” With another motion for Anthony to follow, Timothy began to leave the store.

“See you later Mr. Kampfhammer,” Anthony said as he followed Tim.

“Ya,” returned the German. “Have a goot time.” Anthony smiled in agreement.

Timothy left the store and took a left turn the second he exited the door. Pausing for a split second, Anthony followed close on his heals. They passed several buildings, and as they went, it seemed to Anthony that Timothy’s pace seemed to quicken. At first, his pace was a quick walk. It now seemed to be a brisk trot. Doubling his effort, Anthony soon managed to come along side of the Englishman.

“Why are you in such an all fired hurry?” inquired Anthony. The Englishman didn’t say a word. He smiled and increased the pace. Again, Anthony had to run to come a long side of his companion. “Why the hurry? Are you rushing to a fire?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” piped Timothy. “I don’t have time to explain it to you, but you’ll see. You’ll know.”

“Know what?” Anthony was completely puzzled by Timothy’s actions. It was as though something had a hold on him and it wasn’t about to let him go.

“Well, you’re about to find out,” said Timothy as he stopped just in front of an open door that led into a large building. As Anthony began to enter the building, Timothy grabbed the Scotsman by the left arm and asked, “How do I look?” At first, Anthony came very close to striking the Englishman for daring to grab him. When he spun around to confront the man, he noticed that Timothy was wearing the biggest clumsiest looking grin Anthony had ever seen. That’s when it hit him. Timothy was here to see a girl.

Laughing at his companion, Anthony slapped the man on his shoulders and said, “You look fine. You’ll make a good impression on her.”

“How’d you know?” Timothy’s eyes knitted out of curiosity. He was sure he had hidden his intentions very well, but here this Scotsman saw right through him. How could that be? He began to ponder on it, but he thought better of it and quickly entered the pub. Trying not to laugh, Anthony followed close behind.

Timothy entered the door, stopped and scanned his surroundings. His halt was so sudden that Anthony bumped into him, but the Englishman didn’t even notice. His mind was on his visual search of the faces in the room. After a couple of scans, he said, “Ah!” Tapping Anthony on the shoulder, he motioned with his right hand and said, “We’ll sit over there.” He pointed to the far right hand corner of the large room.

“That’s near a fire place,” teased Anthony. “Wouldn’t you prefer a table over on the other side? There’s windows on this side.” The Scotsman pointed to the other side of the room. He did this to see what kind of reaction he would get from the Englishman.

“Certainly not, besides, I know this barmaid, and she’ll give us better rum than that one over there’ll give.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certainly.” Without saying another word, he hurried across the room to an open table. Anthony followed because he had to see what was making his companion act so peculiar.

They hadn’t even sat down, when a short stocky blonde woman with a thick English accent walked over to the table. She smiled at Anthony and then moved on to Timothy. “Can I get you something?” she asked. She paid Anthony no mind. She smiled as gazed into Tim’s eyes.

“Two rums,” stammered the Englishman.

“Is that all you want?” she asked and then laughed naughtily.

“No, but that’s all they’ll let me have,” returned an awkward Tim. They both laughed. She turned and went after the rum.

“What do you think of her?” asked Tim even though it was obvious that he didn’t care. He was looking for Anthony’s approval and not the Scotsman’s opinion. “She’s wonderful, isn’t she?”

“I’ve seen prettier,” teased Anthony.

“Where in your dreams, or have you died and gone to heaven?”

“No, in Scotland. She wouldn’t even be considered a pretty lass in the Highlands.”

“That’s because you guys prefer women who look like cows,” returned the Englishman. He meant to put a barb in the Scotsman, but had failed. Anthony started to retaliate, but let it go. “He’d never be a match for me in any kind of game of wits,” thought Anthony, “or at least, not in the shape he’s in.” Without saying a word, Anthony leaned back on the chair in which he was sitting. He cupped his arms behind his head, smiled and whispered, “I’ve got to see how this plays out.”

A few minutes later, the girl brought two tankards of rum. Anthony looked at his and noticed it was only about half full, but Tim’s was running over. Amused by the situation Anthony looked up from his drink so he could get a better look at the girl.

She was not as short as Anthony had originally thought. She was about medium height. She did possess broad shoulders and wide hips. “I’d hate to have to scrap with her,” he thought to himself. “I don’t know if I could take her.” He laughed despite himself.

While still studying her, Anthony noticed that there were several characteristics about the girl that were attractive. She had golden hair that she kept pulled up above her shoulders. Her eyes were deep blue. The one thing that really captivated him was her smile. Her teeth were snow white. Anthony could never recall seeing such a beautiful set of teeth. Without even noticing, he closed his mouth in embarrassment when he thought about how beautiful her smile was when compared to his.

“Anthony, this is Elizabeth,” stated peacockish proud Timothy. Timothy had the look of a new father. This was his moment of triumph and he was basking in it. “Her contract is up a month after mine, and the day after she is free we are marrying!” Timothy’s tone was a combination of immense pride and a matter of fact plainness.

Anthony was stunned by the news. Although he had only known him for a few hours, Anthony never imagined Tim having a sweetheart let alone considering getting married. Hiding he shock, he stood up and repeated the name, “Elizabeth, as in the queen.”

“As in the mother of John the Baptist,” she returned. They all laughed. “Are you hungry?” she asked the men.

“Starved,” piped Timothy before Anthony could say a word. Smiling within himself at the whole situation, Anthony nodded in agreement.

“I’ll fetch you some lamb stew. We make the best in the Colony.”

“I’ll wager that you do,” agreed Anthony.

She turned and went to fetch the stew. She had not taken three steps when Tim began a barrage of questions to Anthony. He wanted to know Anthony’s opinion of the girl. Did Anthony think she was pretty? Was she a sweet girl? He went on and on about how nice she was and how fortunate he was to be getting her as a wife. After what seemed like hour, but was really only a few minutes, Anthony had to put a halt to the barrage by holding up his hands in a mock surrender.

“Yes, she’s pretty and you are lucky,” piped Anthony. “Now can we just relax and wait for the stew.” Anthony could not figure out why Timothy wanted his approval so badly. It didn’t make sense to him. After all, there was no love lost between the Scots and the English. Still, he was amused by the situation and besides he was living in the Colonies now and that meant some things had to change. Shrugging his shoulders, he sighed and said, “You’re getting a right smart woman there. You should be proud.”

Without saying a word, Timothy looked at Anthony, smiled and shook his head in agreement. Anthony could also see that there was gratitude in the man’s eyes. He wanted someone to approve of his future wife so badly that he was willing to accept that approval from a Scotsman in order to get it. This puzzled Anthony, but he put it in the back of his mind to be studied on when he was alone and had more time to think.

The girl brought two plates of stew and gently set them down in front of the men. She then pulled two pewter spoons out of her apron. “I’ll be back with some bread and butter,” she said. “Is there anything else I can get you while I’m gone?” Neither man said a word, but each shook his head to indicate that he didn’t need anything else.

Once she left, Timothy picked up his spoon, took a deep whiff of the stew and began to eat. Anthony waited until Timothy had engulfed about four spoonfuls before he began to eat. Before he had taken his first bite, Elizabeth had returned with a plate that held a loaf of bread, a cup of butter and a knife. “Enjoy,” she said as she set the bread down.

“Thank you,” said Timothy through a mouthful of food. Anthony nodded in agreement.

Anthony cut off a piece of bread and put a spoon of stew on top of it. He then popped it in his mouth. At first, he could only taste the bread, but after the third or fourth chew, his mouth exploded with delight. The girl was right. This was indeed the best lamb stew Anthony had ever tasted. His second bite was a huge scoop of stew unaccompanied by bread. It was even more wonderful.

Within a couple of minutes, the two were finished. They stayed at the pub about half an hour longer. Timothy wanted to say goodbye to Elizabeth and Anthony was willing to oblige his companion. Timothy told her that he was going to show Anthony the rest of the town, and that he would stop by and see her before they left.

The next two hours were spent touring the township. Timothy showed Anthony where all the important buildings were located. They saw the locations of the courthouse, the town hall, the library, the stables, the gunsmith, the lawyer’s guild, the craftsmen, the butcher, the baker, the seamstress and the physician. By the end of the journey, Anthony’s head was swimming form all the knowledge he had just been given.

“How am I supposed to remember all that?” asked a flustered Anthony. “It seems as though we have been to a thousand places. I can’t possible remember all that.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll come to you,” returned Timothy. “It just takes time. By the time, I leave; you will know this town like the back of your hand. I felt the same way the first time I was brought here, but I now know where everything is. You’ll do the same.”

As the two men returned to Mr. Kampfhammer’s store, the workers were securing the last wagon. “Your timing is perfect, stated one of the workers.” Timothy smiled but didn’t say a word.

“The others are inside,” said one of the workers. “They just arrived themselves. We’ll have you loaded up and ready to go in a couple of minutes.”

“Thanks,” piped Timothy. Without saying another word, he turned and began running in the direction of the inn. He hadn’t gone fifty feet when one of the workers asked Anthony where the English man was going. Anthony smiled and told them to see a girl. They all laughed at that remark.

Within a couple of minutes, Timothy returned. He was grinning from ear to ear. Despite being teased about where he had been, he never said a word. He walked into the store and asked how much the bill was. Once told, he pulled a small cloth bag form his leather satchel and counted out the payment. Once the bill had been fully paid, he exited the building and hopped up on his wagon without saying a thing. The men burst out laughing, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The journey home seemed to take forever. The trip to town had been one of the shortest half days in Anthony’s life. The trip home had been one of the longest. The men arrived just before sundown. Anthony was ambivalent about returning to the manor. Part of him was happy to be back in familiar surroundings, but another part was yearning for the adventure of town.

Lord Osbourne was sitting on the front porch when the wagons passed. He motioned with his hand and Timothy stopped his wagon. The others kept on heading for the barn.

“How did it go?” asked William.

“Fine,” returned Timothy.

“Did you see Elizabeth?” questioned the grinning lord. “I assumed you would stop by the pub. Was I incorrect?” Anthony didn’t say a word. He turned his head and tried to keep from laughing. Although he managed to muffle the sound, he couldn’t keep his body from shaking from his amusement.

“I can see by Anthony’s reaction that you saw her,” said a now laughing William. “Well, be off with you. There are some men waiting to unload the wagon. You and the rest of the crew should wash up and stop by the house. We have supper waiting on you.”

Timothy nodded. He grabbed the reigns, slapped them against the horses’ rumps, and began the last leg of the trip.

Within a few minutes, the men had washed up and were sitting at a small table in the servant’s kitchen. Exhausted from the long day, Anthony only picked at his food. He took two bites and dismissed himself. He checked in with one of the maids to see how Thomas was doing. Once he was satisfied that his friend was doing well, he went to the servants barracks and fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

Weeks would pass before Thomas was able to get out of bed. The first time he tried to leave his divan he was in such a weakened condition he could stand for only a few minutes before he had to sit back down and rest from the weariness of his legs and the dizziness in his head.

“It will take months before he’s completely healed,” explained the doctor. “He took a nasty blow, he may never heal completely.”

Thomas had spent the last six weeks recovering from his ordeal. The first three were the most critical. He passed in and out of consciousness on a daily basis. Several times the doctor had given up hope on the big man recovering, but he pulled through each crisis. It was due to shear will that the gentle giant beat the odds and recovered.

Every day during that period, both Lord and Lady Osbourne would visit the Scotsman. After his duties were finished, Anthony would stop by and sit with his friend until it was time to go to bed. Without failure, he repeated this same routine for forty-two days. Not once did he deviate from this course. Everyone talked about his devotion to his kinsman and many admired his tenacity. No matter how tired he was and no matter what type of day he had earlier, he never missed his evenings with Thomas. His shear focus and loyalty won him the respect and admiration of everyone on the plantation.

“Have you ever seen such loyalty?” asked Lady Osbourne of her husband one night, as they were alone in the parlor. “In all my days, I’ve never seen such a display of pure unabashed love of one man for another.” Lady Osbourne was both amazed and curious as to why there was such an incredible bond of friendship between the two Scotsmen. “Fiercely loyal, does not even begin to describe these two.”

“They say such actions are not uncommon amongst the peoples of the Scottish Highlands,” returned her husband. “It’s been said that the clan and a man’s word means everything to the Highlander. To lay one’s life down defending the clan is considered the greatest of all honors for them. If the rest of the Highlanders are as loyal to each other as these two, then it is no small wonder that we were never able to completely defeat them in combat.

“I have no doubt of their loyalty to each other. This is a loyalty born of love, of that, there can be no doubt. I wish I had a friend like that.

“With the Scots, it is not friendship, but the clan that counts. We English could learn a lot from these clansmen.”

“You’d be drummed out of the King’s Court were someone ever to hear you say such a thing,” teased Lady Osbourne.

“I know. But, the truth is still the truth, no matter how we try to cover it.”

“It’s agreed,” said the Lady as she affectionately patted her husband. Without saying another word, she got up off the couch the two were sharing and made her way upstairs to the master bedroom. “Are you coming up soon?” she asked warmly.

“Give me a few minutes. I have something on my mind. I’ve rolled it over and over in my mind and I still can’t come up with a solution to my dilemma.”

“What is your dilemma?”

“I have been considering giving Thomas his freedom.”

“Oh William, that would be wonderful!” Forgetting that she was a lady, she ran back to her husband and leaped into his arms. She pulled him close to her and whispered, “I have been thinking the same thing. After all, he did save our son’s life. Please, do. Do it for Joseph’s sake.”

“By thunder, I believe I will.” Her excitement began to rub off on him. Thumping his right fist on his chest from the excitement of it all, he said, “That’s exactly what I will do. As soon as Thomas is able to walk, he’ll have his freedom.”

Smiling, Lady Osbourne pulled her husband close to her and gently and affectionately kissed him. “I have never been more proud of you.”

Swelling with pride, the Englishman decided that he would have the magistrate draw up the papers within the week. He would put his plan into action as quickly as possible. He decided that in the morning, he would summon the magistrate and by week’s end, Thomas would be an unencumbered man. He considered giving Anthony his freedom as well, but felt that would be too generous.

He kissed his beloved wife a second time and stroked her affectionately as his mind began to make plans that concerned not only his, but also his family’s and the Highlanders’ future.

The two sat back down on the couch and stayed there another two hours. Neither spoke. Neither one dared to break the mood of the moment. They had a relationship that was all together uniquely uncommon. Each understood himself or herself and they understood each other. Words were not needed to communicate their feelings toward each other. They shared a bond that few could ever imagine and only the luckiest of the lucky could ever hope to achieve. They were the two halves of a whole soul. She knew his thoughts and he knew hers. They shared a common mind, a common personality and above all, an extraordinarily uncommon love for each other. Truly, theirs was the rarest of the rare in happy marriages.

Early the next morning, Lord Osbourne called for one of his house servants to meet him in his study. When the servant entered the room, Lord Osbourne was busy scribbling a letter on some parchment with a quill and ink. Without looking up, Lord Osbourne said, “Come on in I need you to deliver this letter for me.”

“Yes sir,” replied the servant.

Looking up and over his glasses, Lord Osbourne smiled and said, “Samson, why have you come? I called for Josiah.”

Standing before the English man was s white-haired man of African heritage. The man possessed a kind face with keen eyes that held both wisdom and kindness.

“Josiah was running an errand for the Misses. I couldn’t find him. I figured you had urgent business and I came a running.”

Smiling, Lord Osbourne began to laugh. “You know me very well; don’t you old friend?”

“Comes from serving a man for over forty years,” stated the aged man returning the smile.

“I couldn’t get a long without you,” returned the nobleman. Sincerity and respect echoed in his words.

“I keep telling you that.” “It’s about time you figured that out.”

“You always told me I was hardheaded.”

“Still are. But, you turned into a fine man.” Samson was proud his handiwork.

“Thanks to you.”

Lord Osbourne looked the elder man over again. Samson was a truly remarkable man. He had a humble personality and a razor’s whit. He could take one look at a man and size him up in a matter of seconds. The man need not speak; Samson could still size him up with ease. The strange thing about it was that Samson had never been wrong on assessments. It was as if he had a sixth sense about people. He could read them as easily as most people could read a child’s book.

Lord Osbourne learned to trust Samson’s instincts. The nobleman was so convinced of Samson’s skills that he never made a decision about anything without first consulting the older man.

“Samson, I need your advice on something.”

“I ain’t much on advice, but I sure like giving my opinion.” The two laughed both out of joy and out of understanding. “Before we get started, may I say something?”

“By all means.”

“Willie, I want you to know that I think what you’re doing for the boy is wonderful.”

“What?” asked a Lord Osbourne. It was obvious that he was caught completely off guard by the servant’s question.

“I said….”

“Never mind what you said,” interrupted the master of the house. He raised his finger to point it at Samson; he paused and the burst out laughing. “You old dog. How did you find out?”

“Ain’t nothing goes on in this house that Samson don’t know about.” He tried to hide a grin but failed.

“I should have known. I should have known.” With that, the nobleman lowered his head and began to laugh aloud. “Well, let’s hear your opinion?”

“You are doing a wonderful thing.” The pride was beaming in Samson’s eyes. “I did real good job raising you.”

“Be careful what you say. One of these days I might give you your freedom.”

“And what would I do with that? Besides, I like it here. Who else could I outsmart everyday and get away with it.” Again they both laughed.

“One of these days,” teased Lord Osbourne as he shook the quill at the elderly man. “Now get out of here.”

“Don’t you want your letter delivered to the magistrate?” The servant walked over to the desk and waited for the document to be delivered to him.

“I’d forgotten about that,” returned Lord Osbourne as he rolled up the letter and handed to Samson. “Now, be off with you.”

The sweet old man took the letter, smiled and left the room without saying another word.

The magistrate arrived during the midday meal. William was eating when one of the servants announced the magistrate’s arrival. “Send him in,” stated the lord through a mouth of food. “Ask if he’s hungry and get him some food.” The servant nodded his head and turned to do the nobleman’s bidding.

Having finished the mouth full he was chewing, William got up from his chair, dusted the crumbs himself and then proceeded to walk toward the main entrance of the dining room. Before he had gotten three steps, the servant returned with the magistrate trailing behind him.

“Benjamin,” shouted the nobleman as he walked towards the magistrate. Just before he reached the spot where the two were standing, he smiled and brought his right hand in front of him in order to formally greet the law officer. “How have you been?” asked the Englishman as he pumped his friend’s hand and then slapped the magistrate on the back.

“I’ve been a little under the weather,” returned the magistrate.

“What’s the matter?” asked a concerned William.

“Nothing, just a bit tired. The doctor says it will pass. It’s been tough.”

“I imagine it has.” He shook his head in sympathy for his friend. He then turned and motioned for the servant to exit the room.

“Enough about me,” stated the magistrate. “What can I do for you?”

“I have it in my mind to free one of my indentured servant’s free from his contract.”

“I see.” The magistrate said as he shook his head in understanding. “Why, if you don’t mind me asking, are you doing this?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard, what?”

“About Joseph, of course.”

“Oh, yes. I had heard that Joseph was nearly killed but was saved by of your servants. It was said that the man was nearly killed while doing it. Is that true?”

“Every word.”

“Is he the one you want to free?”

“Yes, but I also want to free one of my slaves as well.”

“Which one?”

“Samson.”

“I knew it,” laughed the magistrate. “I expected you to do that a long time ago. I guess it is never too late. You and old Samson are rather close, aren’t you?”

“He’s been like a father to me.”

“And this is how you’ll reward him?”

“Among other things. Would you like something to eat before we get started?”

“Yes, that is if it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you?”

“No trouble at all. Let me call one of the servants and have him set a place for you.” Without saying another word, Lord Osbourne exited the room and called for one of the servants to come and set a place for the magistrate. Within minutes, both had eaten and were ready to draw up the necessary paper work to free the two men.

Lord Osbourne and the magistrate spent the better part of three hours in William’s study. After they had concluded the business, they emerged from the room with two documents with each one being only two pages in length. “All we need to do is to get it witnessed, and registered to finish it,” stated the magistrate.

Without saying a word to the magistrate, Lord Osbourne called for the manor’s foreman and sent one of his servants to his nearest neighbor. The servant was to bring either the lord of the other manor or his foreman to Lord Osbourne’s manor in order to witness the signing of a legal document.

It was nearly suppertime when the lord of Langhorn Manor arrived at Lord Osbourne’s house. As the carriage neared his house, Lord Osbourne walked out on the porch to greet his guest.

“What’s going on,” asked the head of Langhorn Manor. “I was told by your servant that you needed a witness for a legal document. Something wrong?”

“No, nothing like that,” returned William. “I’ve decided to grant Samson his freedom and to release one of my indentured servants.”

Scratching his head in confusion, Lord Langhorn shrugged his shoulders. “I can understand you giving old Samson his freedom, he practically raised you. But, why do you want to release one of your bond servants? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard, what?”

“About Joseph, of course.”

“What about him?”

“Joseph was nearly killed a couple months back. Had Thomas not been there, I shudder to think what might have happened.”

“What? I haven’t heard this. Tell me more.”

“A couple of months back when that big snow storm hit, we were in the woods cutting down trees to take to the mill. We’re building a bridge. Joseph and this servant were cutting a tree when it began to pop. Joseph froze but this man pushed him out of harms way. Thankfully, Joseph was not hurt, but the tree fell on his savior.

“It was by the Grace of God alone that he survived. He has spent weeks passing in and out of consciousness before he finally passed out of danger. He just recently tried to walk. The doctor thinks that he will eventually gain back most of his strength, but that, he’ll always walk with a limp if he’s ever able to walk again.”

“And that’s why you want to let him out of his contract?”

“Exactly!”

“I see,” said Lord Langhorn as he shook his head in both agreement and understanding.

“I have also debated giving Anthony, Thomas’s kinsman, his freedom as well, but thought better of it.”

“I agree with you. “No use in being too generous.”

“It’s not that. Anthony has learned so much. I need him at this time. I’ll probably shorten his contract out of sheer gratitude, but he is a very unique individual. I think he could run this manor and I want him to impart his good sense and work ethic into Joseph.”

The two entered the study and were joined by two others with one of them being Langhorn’s foreman. Within five minutes, they had conducted all the necessary business that was needed to end the contract.

Exiting the study, Lord Osbourne invited the three men to join him for dinner. All three thanked him, but each had business to attend to elsewhere and therefore had to pass on the offer.

Lord Osbourne agreed and then escorted the three to the door. Shaking the hand of each of the three men, he thanked them and bid them a safe trip home. After the last one had left the front gate, he waved goodbye, turned to enter the house, looked at one of the female servants and asked, “Is dinner ready, Betsy?”

“Yes,” replied the woman.

“Call the family to dinner while I go wash up. I have a million things to do this evening and I don’t believe that I’ll accomplish them all.”

“Yes sir,” replied the servant and she ran to do his bidding.

As he was about to say something else, Lord Osbourne watched as his servant turned the corner of the porch. “It was nothing important,” he said to himself. “I can always tell her later. Well, that is if I remember.” Debating with himself, he thought about a couple of things he’d go a head and tell Betsy, for he knew she wouldn’t forget it. After putting forth several arguments with himself, he abandoned that course of action and proceeded to ready himself for dinner.

During dinner, Lord Osbourne inquired about Thomas’s health. He used his inquiry to begin a conversation about the big man. With the exception of his wife, no one else sitting at the table was aware of his plans to grant the men their freedom. Try as he might, he was unable to steer his dinner companions in the direction in which he wanted to proceed. After several failed attempts to surprise his family, he announced that he had a something to say.

“Go on,” encouraged his wife as she began to feel the excitement starting to grow within her being. “Quite,” she commanded, as the children suddenly became boisterous as they began to speculate about what the surprise might be.

“I have decided to grant Samson his freedom,” he stated magnanimously

“What?” one of the children.

“I said I am going to give Samson his freedom.” Smiling, Lord Osbourne looked around the table as he tried vainly to read what was on the children’s minds.

“Good,” said Joseph as the grin on his face displayed his obvious agreement with his father’s decision. “That is one of the nicest things I have ever seen you do. I’m proud of you.” Looking at the younger of his two sisters, which was sitting to his right, Joseph said, “It’s about time. He should’ve done this a long time ago.”

“Yes, I should’ve,’ agreed Lord Osbourne. “But, I intend to rectified that this instant.” Looking into his son’s eyes, he stated, “That’s not the only surprise I have for you.”

“What’s the other?” inquired an excited Joseph.

“Now, now,” returned his father as he waved his finger at Joseph. “All in due time, but first, we must proceed with the business at hand, which of course is dinner. Eat up everyone!”

Joseph sat there, well that wouldn’t be correct; he actually wiggled in his seat during the entire meal. Although Joseph was sixteen and in all appearances a strapping young man, his parents had spoiled him and that slowed his maturation a little bit. Although in all other respects Joseph appeared to be a man, he still had some maturing to do before he would be considered an adult. This was a situation his father was very much aware of hoped to soon remedy.

After waiting nearly an hour for his father to finish his the news, Joseph was unable to fight the gnawing curiosity that was eating at his soul so he asked, “Are you going to tell us or do you plan on keeping us in suspense?”

Laughing, Lord Osbourne gently patted the table in front of him with his knife and said, “Patience my son. You must have patience.” Remembering what he was thinking just seconds before hand, the nobleman continued, “Patience is a sign of maturity.”

Having guessed the nature of his father’s intent, Joseph tried in vain to change the subject hoping that his actions would force his father’s hand. Lord Osbourne was a master chess player and thus instantly understood what his only son was trying to do, therefore, he feigned as though he was following his son’s feigned lead and then changed the subject.

“Did you locate that stray cow like I asked you to do this morning?” he asked of his son. “She is about to calf and I don’t want anything to happen to it. I hope it’s a bull she’s carrying. Several of the other plantation owners around the county are looking to add new blood to their stock and a bull will fetch a nice sum at the auction.”

Realizing what her husband was trying to do, Lady Osbourne interrupted. “William, you know that both he and his sister, Lizzie, scoured the countryside looking for that cow. You also know that she hasn’t given birth. Now quit, teasing the children and tell them the news. If you don’t, I shall be forced to do so myself.”

Glaring playfully at his wife, he began. “You sure know how to take the fun out of things.” He held up his hands up in front of him to quell any questions the children may be getting ready to ask.

“Since you can’t wait and my wife can’t keep a secret, I’ll tell you. But first, I must have a drink of water in order to clear my throat.” Reaching down towards the glass sitting to the left of his plate, he grasped the thin neck and started to bring the cup towards his lips. He did this knowing that it would add to the drama.

“Father,” shouted his oldest daughter Rebecca.

“William,” protested Lady Osbourne as she slapped her hand against the table in order to emphasize her disgust. “Quit teasing the children. This jest has gone on long enough.

“Do you want to know what he was planning to do?” Lady Osbourne smiled as she asked this. With that, she looked defiantly towards her husband and nodded her head in a rebellious manner.

“Yes!” Shouted the children.

“No!” roared Lord Osbourne above the noise. “I’ll not have you taking my thunder. Okay, if you must know?” His voice seemed to trail off lower and lower with each word. Timidly he said, “I’ve decided to release Thomas of his indenture.”

“Splendid!” Joseph clasped his hands together in a gesture of delight. Over the past few weeks, Joseph had come to idolize his savior. He doted over Thomas. He spent his leisure time either talking to the gentle giant or else reading to him. The Highlander developed a love for the classic thanks in a great part to Joseph. Even though he would never learn to read and despite his weak mental capacity, Thomas would throughout his life be able to quote long passages from the books of Homer with the “Iliad” being his favorite.

The next day after most of the day’s work on the plantation had been completed; Lord Osbourne called a meeting of all the indentures and overseers. Work ended a half an hour earlier in order to allow the workers to clean up before they headed to the gathering place.

As they approached the huge walnut tree, they noticed Lord Osbourne sitting under it. He was fanning himself with his right hand and in his left; he was holding a tankard of what Anthony hoped would be rum. Sitting to the right of Lord Osbourne was Joseph and to his left sat Thomas. This was the first time the big man had been out of the house since the accident had happened several months ago.

Anthony was at first apprehensive about the entire situation, but the sight of Thomas plus the ear-to-ear grin Joseph wore, alleviated his doubts.

“I suppose you are wondering why I brought you here,” began Lord Osbourne as he stood to address the audience. Silence greeted him as he surveyed the gathering. Smiling he said, “Gentlemen, we are having a grand celebration today.” Pointing toward the big man, he continued, “During the winter, Thomas saved my son from what would have been certain death.” With a look of admiration in his eyes, Lord Osbourne looked at the large Scotsman. “I owe him a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid, but tonight I’ll try to start the first payment on that debt.”

Lord Osbourne stopped and grew silent. He wanted the gravity of his words to sink in before he said anything else. He wanted the men to understand that if they were loyal to him, he would return that loyalty tenfold. Several seconds passed into minutes before he said another word. Sensing that the men were getting restless, he decided now was the right moment to lead into the heart of the matter. Having an intense love of theatrics and impeccable timing, Lord Osbourne’s speech began at the exact second it should have.

“Gentlemen.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sealed document. Whether he was trying to be theatrical or not, it appeared as if Lord Osbourne was delaying his movements in order to increase the anticipation; with Lord Osbourne, it was hard to tell, given his love of the stage.

“I hold here in my right hand a document that all of you will one day possess. It has been signed and witnessed by credible witnesses. It is a writ extinguishing the contract of indenture between myself and Thomas Campbell.” Waiting for what he supposed would be a long round of applause, he stood there in silence. He was disappointed with the light clamor that followed. Taken aback by the lack of enthusiasm, he attempted to regain his composure as he vainly searched for the words that would whip the onlookers into a wild frenzy. After several failed attempts at exciting the crowd, he walked over to Thomas and laid the document on the giant’s chair.

“Here Thomas, you deserve this.”

“Yes sir,” returned the Scotsman as he smiled and took the document.

“You’re welcome.”

“What about Ant’ny?” questioned the big man. “I can’t leave him! He’s my friend!” The large Scotsman’s voice was loud but child like. Fear echoed in his voice.

“You won’t have to,” piped Lord Osbourne as Joseph shook his head in agreement with his father. Smiling like a parent smiles when he tries to instruct a child in a relatively simple manner, Lord Osbourne said, “Thomas you’ll always have a home with us.”

“And Ant’ny?” squeaked Thomas.

“His contract isn’t up for five years,” replied the Englishman.

“Don’t he get his freedom?” questioned one of the other indentures.

“No,” returned the nobleman. “He still owes me five years. I’ll hold him to that, but I’ll pay Thomas for the work that he does for me.”

“That don’t sound fair to me,” piped another one of the indentures.

“What is unfair about it?” returned an angry Lord Osbourne. “After all, it was Thomas and not Anthony that saved Joseph! I have been more that fair! I’ll not have anyone talking about me like that! I have been fair! Now drink up before we all lose our desire to drink.” Without saying another word, Lord Osbourne motioned for Joseph and Thomas and the three departed and left the men to drink.

“It’s ain’t fair,” shouted a man a with scruffy bread and a wild look in his eyes.

“No ‘t’ain’t” injected another.

As the rum began to flow, it combined with the anger the crowd was exhibiting to create an explosive combination. A pressure cooker of anger and alcohol began to boil within group. The crowd was for the most part a motley crew. It was composed of petty criminals that had been sent to the Colonies by England so that she would be rid of them. The British judges assumed that a sentence of indentured servitude for these men would either allow them to assimilate or else be killed by the unforgiving American wilderness. Either way, they reckoned that the crown would be rid of some of her undesirable elements.

Anthony was one of the few that had actually come to the Colonies on his own free will. There was a warrant out against him for action treasonous to the crown, but he assumed that he could have spent the rest of life in the Highlands of Scotland and never have been captured by those seeking him. He chose to leave his home and to journey to the Colonies because he had heard that a man with the ability to read and willingness to work would be able to amass a large fortune if he was willing to apply himself.

In Scotland, just before his departure, he heard that there was a riff developing between the colonies and England. Prior to his leaving Scotland, the talk around the countryside had been that the riff was about to boil over into open rebellion. He had to admit to himself that the thought of killing the oppressive English did appeal to him. Even though he knew that these feelings went against everything, he held as sacred.

As he stood under the oak tree drinking tea instead of rum, he was jostled out of his daydream by the realization that in order to kill the English he would also has to kill his fellow Scotsmen, because the best units in all the British army were made up of Scottish Highlanders. After the initial jolt took place, sorrow crept in as he realized that he had cousins serving the British in the Highlander units.

As he stood there reflecting on those of his clan that he knew had joined the British army in order to escape the poverty of the Highlands, one of the indentures grabbed him by the shoulder and asked, “Are you with us or not?”

“What?” asked Anthony as he once again became aware of his surroundings.

“Are you with us?”

“With you, for what?”

“Some aim to storm the house and force the lord to give us our freedom,” returned the man. His speech was slurred from the rum he had ingested.

“Are you mad? Insurrection is punishable by death. I’ll have no part of it.”

“But it’s for you that we’re doing this.”

“No you’re not. It’s the rum that’s talking. I will have no part of this! What you’re doing is wrong and you know it!”

A group of the indentures began to join in with Anthony. This group was made up of men who were either sober, had a short time to go on their contract or else had not been criminals prior to coming to the colonies. They began to move closer to Anthony. Within a matter of seconds, they had completely surrounded the Scotsman and were acting as a shield for him. They knew that there were only a few hotheads in the bunch and they also knew that these were more than enough to create a riot especially when the rum was rolling.

“We won’t let you do something that will cost the lot of us,” roared a big burly man standing just off to Anthony’s right. He was new and Anthony could not remember his name at that moment.

“Aye that’s right,” shouted a man the indentures had nicknamed, “Red,” due to the color of his hair. Like Anthony and Thomas, he was a Scotsman.

“How do you aim to stop us?” questioned one of the leaders of the uprising.

He had not even finished speaking when the big burly man knocked him unconscious with one fell swoop of his enormous right fist. That was the spark that kindled the fire. With that blow, a fight erupted. It didn’t last long. It took only a few minutes for Anthony and the twelve men backing him to finish off the fifteen or so drunkards that had started the melee. The other twenty or so men decided to sit this one out. Their only participation was to toss a man back into the middle of the fight once he had been thrown out of it.

The instant the fight began one of the more sober indentures ran to the mansion and called for the master. “Lord Osbourne! Lord Osbourne! Lord Osbourne,” he shouted as he ran as fast as he could to get the Englishman.

As the man approached the house, the nobleman, who had been sitting on the front porch talking to Joseph, stood up, ran to the man and asked, “What is going on?”

“It’s the men.” He pointed towards the area in which the men had been fighting. “They’re fighting!”

“Joseph!” shouted William. “Fetch my flintlock and pistol. Grab yourself one as well.”

“Yes sir.” The youth jumped out of his chair and ran in the house. Within seconds, he exited the house carrying three pistols, three flintlocks, a bag of bullets and two powder horns. He ran to the other men and gave each a pistol and a flintlock.

Looking at his flintlock to ensure that it was ready to fire, Lord Osbourne looked at the other two men and asked, “Are you ready?” The two didn’t say a word but they nodded to indicate that they were.

Joseph’s stomach began to twist into knots. He had hunted all his life but he had never pointed a gun at another man. Fear gripped him and he tried to hide it from his father. As if he knew, what his son was thinking, Lord Osbourne touched Joseph’s hand and said, “Don’t be afraid Joe. This won’t come to much.”

“I hope you’re right,” responded Joseph.

“Me to,” piped the third man.

Though it took only a few minutes to get to the area where the men had been drinking, it seemed to Lord Osbourne as though it lasted a lifetime. In those few minutes, his mind saw images of Joseph being hurt in at least a dozen different ways and he secretly prayed to God that nothing would happen to his son.

By the time the three had reached the clearing where the men had been drinking, the fight was finished. Several men were lying on the ground; a couple of which were being tended to, and the rest were busy drinking. The men tried to act as if they hadn’t noticed men’s approach, but everyone knew they had.

“What’s going on here?” asked Lord Osbourne in a commanding voice. At first, the men didn’t answer. Only after the second question became louder and more commanding, did one of the men give answer.

“Nothing,” returned Red. “Just a bunch of men having a drink and sporting with each other.”

“Sport?” questioned William. His voice did not hide his annoyance. “If sport is all you’re having, then why are those men lying on the ground?”

“Too much rum,” returned Red. “Some men can’t handle over two or three drinks.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Lord Osbourne, why would I lie? I’ve nothing to gain by getting on your bad side. No indeed, not. We’re having a drink when things may have gotten a little out of hand, but they’re restored now. The rum’s about gone. Things’ll be ending soon. There’s no need to worry about it.”

His voice was soothing and patronizing at the same time and this grated against Lord Osbourne. He wanted to respond in kind but failed to find the right words to allow him to do this. After struggling for several second to find the right combination of words, he gave up and said, “Hurry up and be done with this, tomorrow we have church.”

“Yes sir,” returned Red. With that, Lord Osbourne motioned for the other two to follow him. He then turned and left.

“Lord Osbourne, I swear to you that there was a fight going on when I left,” piped the indentured servant.” His voice quivering from the nervousness he was now feeling.

“I know. What is your function on my estate?”

“I am a field hand.” His uneasiness began to subside.

“What did you do before you were sold into indenturedhood?”

“I was a jeweler and a tinker, Lord Osbourne.”

“Then how was it that you were convicted of embezzling from your clients?”

“That is a lie!” said the man angrily. “I did no such thing!”

“Are you calling the King’s judge a liar?”

“No, Lord Osbourne.” The man became nervous once again. “I was wrongly…”

“If you didn’t embezzle a client’s funds, then why are you here?” Lord Osbourne was enjoying himself. He believed the man, but he was thoroughly enjoying watching the man squirm.

“Truthfully?”

“And nothing else,” piped William. His voice frightened the man and he knew it. This he thought would ensure that the man would be honest with him.

“I was the best tinker in my town. I was also a jeweler and a clock maker. I had clients as far away as Glasgow. I had a reputation as the best and as a result, I earned a handsome living. I had only one rival, but he was nowhere near as skilled as me.

“He did have one skill that I didn’t. His brother had been an officer in the King’s army and had married into a family with connections at court…”

“Go no further,” interrupted Lord Osbourne. “That’s a tale I know all too well.”

“You do?”

“Yes and first hand. Tell me, have you ever wondered why a man with the title of “Lord” lives in the wilderness of a Colony instead of a stately estate in England.”

“Because you’re the governor?”

“Yes, partly. I was given the title of governor-general and sent to the colonies because I too had a rival that had a better connection at court than I did. But, I have a title and nothing else. I have no real power and the actual governorship of this colony belongs to another. Now you see. I do know what you’re going through.”

The Englishman gave the servant another look. “And, you’re a field hand?”

“Yes, your Lordship.”

“Come Monday we’ll remedy that. I could use a good tinker and clock maker. If you’re as good as you say you are, you’ll make us both very wealthy men.” Without saying another word, William began marching towards the house. The other two shrugged in unison and fell in behind him.