“Lord Erickson can be a bit overwhelming,” Miss Todd said.
“So it is not just me?”
“Heavens, no. Why do you think he’s still single?” Miss Todd asked with a laugh.
“I did not imagine the glares I was receiving from the young women.”
“Of course not. You are encroaching on their territory. They might not want him right now, but they want him to remain available, just in case.”
“That almost makes me feel bad for him.”
“Don’t. I’ve known Thackery Erickson for a long while. His ego can well handle anything any woman wishes to give him. Now, you seem a rather intelligent woman, so tell me, why did you allow Thackery to dominate your attention?”
“I am no different from any other woman.”
“Oh, yes, you are. I just finished playing a game of cards with you. I can’t recall how many times I saw a look of frustration cross your face when Thackery threw down a bad card.”
“Was it that obvious? I tried to…”
“Hide it? You did rather well. The men didn’t have a clue. Why don’t we take a stroll outside before we find the retiring room?”
“That would be wonderful.”
“So tell me, what brings you to our humble little island?”
“I came to visit my uncle and his wife.”
“Oh, yes, Lord and Lady Hayhurst.”
“You know them?”
“I know of them. Your aunt…”
“What?”
“Nothing. So you have come for a familial visit. Is that all?”
“No. I have come to seek a husband.”
“Ah. Now it makes sense as to why you partnered at cards with Thackery.”
“He is…nice,” she hesitated over the word before continuing, “and he was the first one to secure my attention.”
“I would hesitate to say it was him Smithson and Beaumont. All of whom are as exciting as watching syrup slide down a wall.”
“I will keep an open mind,” she said as they entered a beautiful garden.
“How is England? It has been years since I’ve been there.”
And so Circe spent some time visiting with Miss Todd. She decided if nothing else happened that particular evening, she felt like she at least had a new friend. Much later Circe was riding in the carriage with her uncle and Dorothea back to Briar Rose Plantation, reflecting silently on the evening’s successes and failures.
“Did you have a good time?” Robert asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Yes, I did. It seems that Barbados society is not much different from the ton.”
“What did you expect since most of the people higher up in society here are from England?” Dorothea asked, chuckling.
“I was hoping for something different.”
“Tell me who all you met,” Robert said, trying to defuse the tense situation between the two women.
Circe recited who all she met and how her evening went.
“It sounds as if you got to meet quite a few people.”
“Yes. Several of them promised to invite me for tea sometime next week.”
“That will be nice,” Uncle Robert said. “And how did you and your lady friends occupy yourselves tonight, my love?”
“Oh, we just sat about and chatted,” she said, noncommittally.
Circe looked at her as she thought back and tried to place her in any of the groups that she and Miss Todd had passed as they strolled around the room. She could not remember seeing her anywhere. She started to question her further, but Dorothea spoke up first.
“It was such a lovely party.” She burrowed closer to Robert who put his arm around her and pulled her tighter against him.
“Indeed, it was,” he said. She watched him kiss his wife on the top of her head, and winked at her. She gave him a weak smile in return and tried to push away her misgivings about her uncle’s wife.
Chapter 12
Reese was outside in the hot sun clearing the land when he looked up to see a line of people walking up the drive. He wiped his brow with the back of his arm.
“O’Connor, we have company!”
“What?” The other man joined him from where he had been clearing the overgrowth.
“I think we have company,” he nodded at the people walking towards them, both whites and blacks alike. “Perhaps we should greet them and see what it is they want.”
“I wouldn’t put down that knife if I were you.”
“I agree.” Reese studied the approaching group. The mob was not smiling, which unsettled Reese. He tucked the knife in the back waistband of his breeches before approaching the group. “What can I do for you?” he asked.
An older man approached him, stepping away from the others. “We’re here to talk to Mr. Taggart.”
“That’s me,” Reese replied, not correcting him on how he should be addressed.
“Is it true? The talk going on around the island.”
“What would that be?”
“That yer willin’ t’ split the profits of the plantation in exchange for work?”
“That’s about the sum of it. I don’t have enough money to pay people. Not yet, at least.”
“So we’d be slaves t’ ya,” one of the men stated.
“Never that,” Reese argued. “When this place becomes profitable, the money will be shared with everyone—equally. I will be the last one to receive payment. I have no idea what I’m doing here. The insides are in shambles and the outside is overgrown. As far as I can tell the weeds are taking over the sugarcane. I will be working right alongside you in order to get Windcrest Plantation to its old grandeur.”
“We’d be free?” another man asked at the prodding of several people.
“I will not hold you here if you do not wish to work here,” Reese agreed.
“Are there places for us to sleep?”
“Aye,” O’Connor spoke up this time. “They need work, but the roofs are strong.”
“We’ll need money to buy some livestock.”
“Of course,” Reese answered.
The leader of the group approached Reese and held his hand out. “Mister Taggart, we will work for ye, but if ye go back on yer word, God be wi’ yer soul.”
“That won’t happen,” Reese said, taking the other man’s hand in his. He looked past the man at the large group that had gathered. “Welcome to Windcrest Plantation, your new home.” He received tentative smiles from some, while others studied him as if they were still trying to determine whether or not he was being truthful. He let out a sigh as the people walked past him to claim their homes or places in the barracks in the back. “What should I call you?” he asked the man who had led the questioning and shaken Reese’s hand.
“Moses.”
“Moses, let me know what they need. I know mattresses are on the top of the list. I just need to know how many, and anything else any of you might need.”
“We’ll let you know.” The older man turned and trailed behind the others.
“Is it a good sign that they have come?” Reese asked O’Connor.
“I hope so,” O’Connor said.
“So do I,” Reese seconded before he turned back to work on the overgrown plants.
* * *
“You were brilliant!” Dorothea laughed and clapped her hands as she approached Circe.
“I only turned a page in a book,” Circe replied. “I hardly think that should require such fanfare.”
“No, silly, last night. Do you know how many invitations for teas, picnics, and parties you have received today?”
“No,” she drew out the word.
“Well, let me help you guess. Wait here.”
Circe put the book aside and sat up straighter as she waited for Dorothea to return. She did not have long to wait before the other woman reappeared with the silver salver from the side table in the foyer. A mound of envelopes and cards were piled on it. She reached out a hand and then pulled it back. There was no way those could all be f
or her. She had not received that many invitations the entire time she lived in England.
“Go on,” Dorothea encouraged her. “They are yours, after all.”
“That is impossible.” The words slipped out before Circe could stop them.
“Why not? You are a beautiful woman and new to the island. That means you have piqued the interest of both the men and women. The men wish to know more about you, and the women want to size up their competition. I have read through the invitations already, not everyone was at the party last night. Word is spreading about you, Circe.”
“I do not know what to say.”
“You do not have to say anything. All you have to do is enjoy your success and the attention everyone’s going to shower on you.”
Circe could only nod her head as she picked up the first invitation.
“I’ll leave you alone so you can read through them. If I were you, I would accept as many as you possibly can. Everything you need to send acceptances is in Robert’s study. I’m going to find him and tell him the good news. He’s going to be so thrilled.”
Circe watched Dorothea leave. She scooped up the invitations from the silver salver, entered her uncle’s study, and commandeered his desk. She methodically laid out all of the invitations in order of date and time of the event. If there were any that conflicted, which were very few, she decided based on the activity—she much preferred picnics over tea. When she finished, she looked over a make-shift calendar she had created. If she accepted every one of these invitations, she would have something to do almost every day for the rest of the month and into the next.
Halfway through replying to the invitations she stood and stretched. Needing to take care of certain needs, she made her way up to her room. When she passed Dorothea’s bedchamber, she heard sounds emanating similar to when her parents wanted to be alone with one another. She smiled, happy that Uncle Robert was happy with his wife. She continued on to her bedchamber and took care of needs. Circe approached the stairs when she heard Dorothea’s door open. Not wanting to embarrass either Dorothea or Uncle Robert, she slipped into a shadowed alcove and waited for whoever it was to pass or return to their room. Who she saw had her gasping in shock. Circe moved as far back into the alcove as possible, praying that she would not be seen or heard. She closed her eyes and held her breath until the footsteps receded down the stairs.
Circe looked around making certain the area was clear before she crept to the railing and peeked over. She had not imagined things. Going down the last few steps of the staircase was Samson. He paused at the bottom, and she took several large steps back so she would not be seen.
“Samson, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. I have some ideas I want to discuss with you,” Uncle Robert said. “Let’s go out to the fields. I want to see what you think.”
“Of course,” the man readily agreed.
Circe felt ill. Dorothea, the woman that Uncle Robert was absolutely besotted with, was having an affair. Circe made her way back downstairs and returned to Uncle Robert’s desk. She fell into the chair and stared at the overwhelming mound of invitations. In a fit of rage, she swept them off the desk with a growl. She watched as they all fluttered to the floor as if mocking her anger.
“What am I going to do?” she muttered.
“Do about what?” Dorothea asked as she entered the room. “Oh, my, what happened here?”
Circe stood and slowly approached the other woman. What am I going to do? Should I tell her I know about her sordid affair? she wondered. Instead, she stepped passed her and knelt down to retrieve the invitations and responses.
“Circe, are you all right?”
“I was just trying a trick we do in England. You throw all the invitations in the air and only accept the ones that land face up.”
“Oh, well, that sounds rather silly to me. Shouldn’t you accept all of them?”
“Of course, you are correct, Dorothea.” When the other woman bent to help her, Circe looked at her and said very quietly, “I do not need your help with this.”
“If you’re certain.”
“Absolutely.”
“All right. I’m going to visit the Percelly’s for tea this afternoon. Would you care to accompany me?”
“I would really rather just stay here.”
“You really should go and meet more people.”
“I have a headache,” Circe lied between gritted teeth.
“Of course. We did get home rather late last night.”
“Yes.”
“Have one of the footmen deliver your replies once you have written them.”
“I will.”
“Circe, are you certain everything is all right?”
“Yes.”
“All right. If you should need me—”
“I will be fine on my own,” she interrupted Dorothea.
“Of course.” Dorothea turned and left Circe alone in the study. Circe watched her leave and forced a placid expression on her face when in truth anger simmered beneath the surface. She needed advice on how to handle the situation. Reese. He would know what to do. How often had he been in this situation himself? Yes, she would seek out Reese and ask his advice. Circe finished gathering up the invitations and spread them out once more on her uncle’s desk. She continued writing her responses, whether accepting or declining, and made certain that every one she had agreed to attend was written on the makeshift calendar she had created.
When she was finished, she gathered up the invitations and the calendar and carried them up to her bedchamber. Next, she changed into her riding habit and boots. Downstairs, she swiped up the replies and walked through the house until she found a footman. He flinched when she reached out and touched his arm to get his attention.
“I did not mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t, miss. What can I do for ye?”
“I would like these to be delivered. Lady Hayhurst said that one of the footmen would see that it is done.”
“I’ll take care of it personally.”
“Thank you,” she said before turning and walking to the stable. There were several men working when she arrived. “I would like a horse saddled, please.”
“Right away, miss,” one of the men said. “Should I saddle one for Samson, as well?”
“No.”
“But—”
“It will be just me. Do you have a problem with that?” she asked. She hated the sharpness in her tone, but she needed to talk to someone about her concerns and there was no one here she trusted.
“No, miss. I’ll saddle one right away.”
“Thank you.” Circe paced in front of the stables while she waited for a horse to be readied. When it was finally brought around, she was given a leg up into the saddle. The horse was solid black except for a white splotch on his forehead.
“This here is Midnight Star. He’ll be gentle for you.”
“I am certain we will get along just fine.”
“Are ye sure ye’ll be all right, miss? It won’t take a minute for one of the lads to—”
“Yes, I am perfectly capable of going for a ride.”
“Yes, miss.” The man took a step back as Circe turned the horse down the drive.
She first rode to the beach where she had found Reese the other evening watching his possessions burn. She did not expect him to be there again, but she needed the soothing sound of the waves rolling in. Circe prodded the horse towards the ocean and laughed when he started playing in the surf, making his hooves splash the water up on both of them.
“You needed to escape, as well,” she said as she leaned over and patted the horse’s neck. “Come on, we need to find Lord Taggart.” She pulled on the reins forcing the horse to leave his frolicking behind. “We will come back another day, I promise you, Midnight,” she said, shortening his name.
As if the horse understood her, he nodded his head then shook his coal black mane. When they reached the road, she turned Midnight Star in the direction she b
elieved Reese’s plantation should be. If she recalled, Dorothea had mentioned that it was down the mountain and further down the road from Briar Rose Plantation. The beach belonged to Reese, so the entrance to the plantation should not be very far away. She road on about ten minutes before she found the pillars with the plaque that read Windcrest Plantation.
“Here it is,” she murmured to Midnight Star. She turned him onto the drive and noticed people working as she rode by. They were clearing out the plants. When she reached the house she now understood why Reese was so disheartened the other evening. Parts of the house looked as if it would crumble to the ground at any moment. Circe dismounted Midnight Star and tied him to the circle on the hitching post. She approached the front door and knocked using the metal knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. She was just about to knock again when a very attractive, heavily pregnant woman, with a young child clinging to her leg, opened the door.
“May I help ye?”
“I am here to see Lord Taggart.”
“There’s no Lord Taggart here. Mr. Taggart lives here.”
Circe took that information and thought about it carefully before answering. “My mistake. It is Mr. Taggart I am here to see.”
“He’s in the cane fields. He won’t be back ’til much later.”
“I do not mind waiting, if that is all right.” The woman seemed to consider if it was wise to allow this stranger into Reese’s house. “Please, it is rather important.”
“Come in,” the woman finally acquiesced.
“Thank you.” Circe followed her inside and shut the door. The house looked as bad on the inside as it did on the outside. “Poor Reese,” she murmured.
“What was that?” the woman asked.
“Something smells delicious.”
“I’m just cookin’ a few things. There really isn’t anyplace for ye to sit ‘cept in the kitchen.”
“That is fine.”
“Tally, go and play, sweetheart.” The little girl smiled shyly at Circe before she went to a corner and sat down with a crude looking doll. “Can I get ye anythin’ to drink?”
“Oh, no, thank you.” Circe moved to sit at a long, scarred table. After sitting there for almost a quarter of an hour and watching the other woman lumber about the kitchen, Circe stood and approached her. “May I help you?”
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