by Fine, Clara
Cam frequently wished that she had been born a boy. It wasn’t that the thought of being a man was that appealing, but God, she would have had choices. She could have struck out on her own, found a trade that didn’t involve keeping slaves and supported herself. As it was she was all but chained to her father side until she married (and it was beginning to look unlikely that she ever would marry) and so she had very little say about what went on in his household. Cam tried to repress her resentment, to hide her anger the way that she hid everything else, but it wasn’t easy. Cam was certain that life wasn’t supposed to be this way. A man was supposed to either be evil or not. How were you supposed to love your father and at the same time, despise him for his choices?
There was no easy answer, Cam admitted as she and Diana clambered down the tree and set off across the lawn. They made a quick stop behind the kitchen, where Caro had left two bundles containing the items on Mattie’s list. There was also an unlit lantern, which the sisters didn’t dare to light until they were deep into the forest.
While Cam was relatively relaxed in the forest by day, at night it was an entirely different place. There were different animals out and their calls were unfamiliar, even frightening. The lantern cast a small, faint circle of light, hardly a match for the great sweep of blackness that surrounded them. From time to time something moved in that darkness, just beyond the farthest reach of the light, and Cam jumped, convinced that it was a person and that they were caught.
But she and Diana were lucky. Martin met them at the usual spot, near an old footbridge in dire need of repair that spanned the creek. Few words were spoken between the three of them, as they were all on edge and operating as quickly as possible. The goods were handed over, they murmured their farewells, and then Cam and Diana slipped away.
It was on their way home that Cam sensed something. She couldn’t describe it at first, or even pinpoint where it was coming from. She only knew that her hands were shaking and that something had made goose bumps spring up all over her skin. Cam glanced at her sister, wondering if Diana sensed it as well. Her sister seemed tense, but no more than was usual for errands like these. Then again, Diana was better at hiding her feelings than anyone Cam had ever met.
Cam peered into the dark, trying to determine where exactly she and Diana were. It wasn’t until she caught a glimpse of lights in the distance that she realized— they were passing the Wickers plantation. This part of the forest belonged to Brent’s brother. They were traipsing across Anderson land, which suggested that whatever was making Cam nervous was coming from Brent’s home.
Hoping desperately that she was wrong, Cam grabbed her sister’s hand. Diana gasped in surprise. “Yes?” She hissed when she had caught her breath.
“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” Cam said and then darted away before Diana could stop her. She emerged quietly from the forest, seeing her way only by the light of the moon since she had left the lantern with Diana. The Anderson lawn was dark and so was the house, except for one upstairs window. Cam crept up the lawn, carefully avoiding the strip of grass that was illuminated by the light shining from that window. Whose room was that? Brent’s? And why did the thought of Brent’s bedroom make her heart thump a little faster?
Cam distracted herself from thoughts of Brent in bed by focusing on the eerie feeling that had drawn her to the house in the first place. It was an odd sensation, a sort of prickling foreboding that started in her mind and then traveled down her spine. It was as though she were a child creeping through a graveyard by night. Her legs quivered and the distant hoot of an owl made her jump. Far above her in that lit room, someone passed by the window and cast a shadow that jumped and twisted on the lawn before vanishing as the person moved on. Cam crouched lower on the grass, hoping to avoid being seen, but at the same time she couldn’t help but wonder if the person pacing upstairs was Brent.
It doesn’t matter, she thought. The nasty feeling was definitely coming from Brent’s house and that was not a good sign.
She waited until there was no one at the window and then crept back to her sister’s side, disturbed by both the house and her incessant thoughts of Brent. They hurried into the forest, keeping their heads low, and some of Cam’s nervousness receded as they drew closer to home. They were just a few minutes away from having successfully completed one more errand. It wasn’t enough– nothing they did ever would be, but it eased the guilt somewhat and made Cam feel like something more than a parlor ornament.
They walked together in silence for a few minutes, until Cam felt Diana staring at her. She returned her sister’s curious gaze. “What?”
Diana sighed. “What is between you and Brent Anderson?”
“Excuse me?” Cam blinked, confused by her sister’s almost accusatory tone.
“You heard me. As your older and more… experienced sister, I think it would probably be wise of you to consult me before you begin any affairs.”
“What?” Cam nearly tripped over a root, but Diana caught her by the upper arm and kept her from falling. “Affairs? What are you talking about? What gave you an idea like that?”
“I heard Aunt Beth quizzing Helen about it this morning after you left.”
“Quizzing Helen about what?”
“And if prissy Aunt Beth has heard the rumors, you can be certain that everyone in the county has.”
“What rumors?” Cam walked ahead of her sister, and then turned around and stood in Diana’s path. “Diana, I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A frown puckered Diana’s brow as she studied her younger sister. “No,” she said finally. “You really don’t, do you?”
“What is all this about?” Cam asked, linking arms with her sister as they kept walking.
“Apparently Brent was showing marked interest in you at Aunt Beth’s ball last night.” There was a faint note of bitterness in Diana’s tone at the mention of Aunt Beth’s ball.
“Marked interest?” Cam repeated, outraged. “How could he possibly have been showing marked interest in me when I wasn’t even there? What an absurd rumor.”
“He was asking a lot of questions about you. You know how people are. He has a reputation as a man who gets what he wants and doesn’t mess about, and apparently you’re the first woman in Gaynor County that he’s shown any interest in. The assumption is that he must be quite serious.”
Cam cursed under her breath. “Oh, what a mess,” she muttered.
“If you’re planning to marry him you might want to consider getting engaged soon, before the rumors get too out of hand and he decides not to marry you after all because you have a bad reputation.” Diana advised.
“Marry him?” Cam couldn’t stop her mouth from falling open. “I’m not going to marry that little sneak.” Or, more accurately, that tall, wild, handsome sneak…
“Good.” Diana said shortly. “Marry and you might as well kiss goodbye what little freedom you currently have. I know it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. Especially since your reputation is still intact. Barely.” She admitted. “Marry and there’s no difference between you and a slave.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Cam said. Diana’s attitude towards marriage deteriorated more with each day that passed.
“I would. Marry and there’s no difference between you and Mary.”
Cam pictured Caro’s niece, with her exhausted eyes and thin frame. “No.” She said. “There’s still a difference.”
“Maybe so.” Diana finally conceded. “But if you’re not going to marry him then you should cut all ties with him.”
“Easier said than done.” Cam argued. She thought of the way that Brent kept poking about and the fact that Caro and Grandma had asked her to keep an eye on him.
“Suit yourself,” Diana said carelessly, but she looked uncomfortable as they walked home together.
What Cam didn’t tell her sister was that Brent had followed her home that day. He had bid her farewell on the hill and then shadowed her
through the forest all of the way home. Had Cam been an ordinary girl she would never have known. He was too stealthy and silent to be detected. The only reason she’d discovered him was because she had charms that were especially designed to alert her to the presence of one who wished to remain hidden.
She didn’t know what to think of his behavior. What was he doing? Spying? Cam knew better than to think that it had been because of her.
Chapter Six
Whatever Brent’s reasons, from then on he followed Cam on most of her weekly errands. For several weeks she pretended to be unaware of his presence, but all the while she wondered what he was up to. Did he suspect what she was doing for Mattie Deveraux? Was he hoping to catch her collecting herbs for her grandmother’s rootwork? Sometimes she was tempted to call out to him and ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. Sometimes she liked the idea that he was watching over her.
Whatever his motives, his constant surveillance of her forced her to change her usual habits. She was used to keeping a fairly regular schedule, but now that he appeared to know what days she went out and when, she had to go out at other times if she wanted to remain undetected. After three weeks of pretending to be unaware of him, Cam finally cracked.
Dusk was fast approaching as Cam left the house and strode into the forest. She’d just returned home after a trip to the Charmon property, and Brent had followed her the entire way. He was still there, lingering in the forest, and the desire to talk to him— and possibly yell at him, had grown overpowering.
The world was the blue-gray of twilight as Cam scrambled over logs and brambles, heedless of any scratches she received on her way to meet him. But when she reached the clearing where she had sensed him, there was no sign of him. Cam frowned, turning in a circle to find him. A twig cracked behind her and she jumped.
“Cam.” Brent emerged from behind one of the trees, standing on a rock with his feet placed wide apart. As usual, his shirt wasn’t completely buttoned.
It’s like he’s trying to taunt me, Cam thought.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, his gaze roving over her with concern.
“What am I doing here?” Cam repeated. “This isn’t your property. What are you doing here?”
“Walking,” Brent said easily, without a hint of shame in his gorgeous eyes.
“You do realize that when you walk around after someone for long periods of time it’s considered following them— which is generally frowned upon?”
His eyes danced. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that you should stay off my father’s property and stop following me.”
Brent made a face as if he was injured by her words. “I thought we were friends?”
“I don’t have any friends.” Cam told him flatly.
“I’ve noticed.” Suddenly his gaze was sharp and speculative again. “I’ve noticed you don’t have any suitors either.”
Much to her chagrin, Cam blushed. She could feel her skin growing flushed from her chin to her hairline, which was no small feat given her tan. Trust Brent to be ill-mannered enough to point out her lack of admirers. Cam glared at him.
Brent read her reaction immediately, as always. He took a step closer, grinning. “What I don’t understand is… why?”
Cam’s mouth opened and closed and when she finally answered it was with the first thing that popped into her mind. “I have terrible table manners.”
His smile widened. “Do you now?”
“Horrible. My Aunt Beth despairs of me and none of the young men of the county want to marry me because they know their parents wouldn’t be able to sit through a meal with me.” She sounded so earnest she made herself smile.
Brent came closer still. “Then they’re fools,” he said simply. He reached out slowly, and his fingers seemed to hover there a moment in the twilight before they touched her face. He caressed her once, gently, and then his hand fell back to his side.
In the second that followed she was almost frozen, entranced by him. She saw his struggle as he leaned down over her, their lips practically touching, strands of his hair tickling her face. She witnessed the moment when he muttered a curse and gave in. He kissed her. The touch was warm and gentle first, and then commanding as it grew hotter with yearning. His fingers splayed against the small of her back, pressing her against him. Cam’s lips parted involuntarily as she gasped, allowing his tongue entrance.
For a minute Cam was completely passive, her senses swamped by all that she was experiencing. Then, like a fire roaring to life, something woke inside of her. She reached up and looped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to kiss him back. She combed her fingers through his hair, holding onto him to keep him there. She could feel his heart pounding as he once again took control of the kiss, his free arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her even closer.
His hand was traveling up her side to her sleeve, where he paused to play with the strap of chemise, sliding his fingers under the strap again and again. Finally, when she was close to panting, he slipped his hand into her basque. Cam broke the kiss to lean back, gasping, and as she stared up at the sky with dilated eyes it occurred to her what she was doing.
“My God.” She froze, suddenly becoming aware of their circumstances and surroundings again.
Brent seemed to sense her shock, and he withdrew and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Cam?”
Cam took a few quick steps backwards to separate them. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said, more to herself than him. She’d never even kissed anyone before. Pecking Benny McPherson on the lips at the age of eleven because Marianne had dared her didn’t count. Not even her wildest imaginings counted. This was…
“Absolute insanity,” Cam said, backing away from Brent.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. He was grinning with lips that still glistened from kissing her.
“My God,” Cam said, whirling to go. She wasn’t sure what else to do.
“Cam?” Brent called after her, but at her name she sped up, until she was practically running back towards home.
It wasn’t until she undressed that night that she realized the coin she kept in her basque was gone.
***
The next morning Cam couldn’t think of anything that didn’t somehow involve Brent. If her cheeks weren’t heating with the memory of their kiss, then she was wondering why he was watching the house and what he was up to. It wasn’t until lunch that Cam suddenly made the connection between Brent’s behavior and Mary’s vision of someone watching and waiting. Cam’s heart immediately leapt into her throat. Whoever Mary had seen in her vision was almost certainly malevolent. If that person was Brent then he would have to be dealt with immediately. As infuriating as the man was, Cam hated the idea of Caro and her grandmother cursing him.
With that in mind, Cam decided to speak to Mary privately first, without getting the older women involved. Mary wasn’t judgmental. She thought first, acted later, and she could keep a secret. When Cam wandered down to the kitchen she encountered only Caro, who was busy preparing salted pork for dinner. “Hello child,” Caro greeted her from where she was sweating over the stove. It was another hellishly hot day, and the drone of the flies was so loud and monotonous it was almost unbearable. “If you’ve nothing to do you might as well work on some charm bags,” Caro said, after glancing around to make sure that Aunt Beth wasn’t nearby to hear her giving Cam orders.
“Are we making new ones already?” Cam asked. The charm bags tended to lose their potency every few moons, so they had to make them frequently, but it seemed like it had been just a few weeks since Cam and Mary had finished the last ones.
“After Mary’s vision? Yes.” Caro said. “She sensed a new threat, so we are taking extra precautions. You won’t find our herbs there,” she added to Cam, “I’ve moved them.” She pointed to a cabinet across the kitchen from where Cam was rummaging around for the herbs to go into the charm bags.
/> “I see,” Cam said, and moved to fetch them.
“Cam?” The voice was Mary’s, and she stood just outside the doorway with a basket of wet laundry. “I was on my way to hang these to dry, but I sensed that someone was waiting for me.” It was strange sometimes, the things that Mary sensed. Some days she could sense even the slightest disturbance— a broken teacup or a lost cat, while the next day she might miss a murder. It had to be maddening for her.
“Yes,” Cam said quickly. “I’ll be back in just a minute to work on the charm bags, Caro,” she said quickly. She led Mary a few steps away from the kitchen door, in order to be certain that Caro wouldn’t catch even a snatch of their conversation with her keen ears.
“What’s wrong?” Mary asked her, gazing at her as though she was trying to read the answer off Cam’s face. She probably was, come to think of it.
Cam cleared her throat. “The vision that you had,” she whispered.
Mary visibly stiffened. “What of it?”
“Could it have been Brent? Could he have been the one under the tree?”
“Brent? Brent Anderson?” Mary frowned. “Unlikely… No.” She said. “No, I don’t think so. I haven’t yet had a vision of Brent Anderson, though I have seen his brother. Whoever it was, they were… different, somehow. But no, I don’t believe it was Brent.”
Cam had barely had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief when the sounds of her grandmother and aunt arguing drifted down the lawn towards her.
“Really Daphne, I just don’t understand why you can’t-”