Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

E dmond could practically feel the questions brewing in Tabitha’s mind as he escorted her from the brown-painted saltbox on the outskirts of Darien, Dulcie just behind them. He waved toward the blacksmith shed where Uncle Ian, whom they had greeted when they first arrived, labored with his oldest son. They would speak more later. As much as he might want to put off Tabitha’s curiosity, he could no longer afford to do so.

“I know it is hot.” He settled his hat against the late-afternoon sun. “But I wonder if we might walk by the river a bit.”

Tabitha seemed to understand his offer. “Of course.” She turned to Dulcie. “Would you be comfortable to go ahead to the lodging house? I will join you shortly.”

“Yes, Miss Tabitha. I will get everything ready for you to change for supper.” With a dip of her head, the woman hastened down the street, past one of the many five-acre garden lots that surrounded the business district according to Lachlan McIntosh’s 1767 redesign.

Edmond led Tabitha west toward the commons and the south channel of the river, deeper and wider than the north channel on the eastern side with its high bluff. They strolled through a field past a waist-high crop of indigo, its yellowing leaves and browning seeds indicating the approach of harvest. “Dulcie is a faithful servant,” he said.

“She is becoming a friend.”

Edmond squeezed Tabitha’s hand. How quickly she had adapted to her circumstances. Never once had he seen her look down on those other people of her class would consider inferior—his family included. And the way his mother had warmed to Tabitha…well, she had always been a good judge of character. Mother had tried to warn him about Evangeline, had she not?

Edmond cleared his throat. “After the things my mother said, I assume you have more questions.”

She dipped her chin. “Meeting her answered some but raised more. I understand that if McMullan agrees to log my cypress and pine and you act as my manager, ’twill help you take better care of your mother.”

“For some time, I have longed to see her settled in a more restful place. As you saw, she will not stop doing so long as Meg’s brood is about.”

“We should speak of terms. I assume you would expect half.” As they reached the shade of a live oak, she turned to him.

“What? Half?” He spluttered. “No. I was thinking of ten percent. After all, I will only be keeping your books and visiting the logging site and sawmill on occasion.” Luckily, his family also knew the Scottish workers at the tide-powered mill near the former site of Fort King George.

“And providing the connection I could not have gained otherwise.” She tapped her lips. “We should also speak of the store.”

Edmond gestured her toward a limb that arched along the ground, so low and broad they were able to sit on it. With the Spanish moss swaying above them, they had a place out of the sun and a view of the revitalized Fort Darien across the river. “It makes sense for me to build in the fall when the underbrush dies back. Then you could stock it after your timber goes to the mill.”

Tabitha settled her petticoats around her. “Agreed. But we should set an amount for your labor. I can pay you as profits come in, if you are amenable to that.”

“That is fine.” He frowned. Did she still think he might not hold up his side of the bargain? “I am not here to take advantage of you, Tabitha. I am here to set wrongs to right.”

“I’m beginning to truly believe that.” She braced herself with her hands on the limb. “Hugh Jackson’s harm to your family went deeper than undermining your father’s firm, did it not?”

Edmond swallowed and settled his hat on his knee. Once Tabitha grasped the full extent of his ignominy, she might decline any further association with him, but she deserved to know all. Well, almost all. “Jackson turned most of my father’s clients against him with rumors that he had cheated him and mishandled funds. Lies.”

Tabitha did not express the surprise he’d expected. She must have heard something from someone already. “But why? Surely, even a man such as him must have some motive.”

Edmond ran his hand over his face. It came away damp with perspiration, which he wiped on the leg of his breeches. “A couple of years ago, I had a fiancée. Evangeline Russell. She was from a good Savannah family. Only because my father had been doing so well did I have hope of marrying her. I couldn’t believe it when she agreed to be courted. But Julian took notice of her. He wanted her for himself.”

There was the surprise, observed in the twitch of Tabitha’s brow, the parting of her lips. Did she now understand his warnings about Julian?

He cast his glance across the river. “At first, she spurned his interest. It galled him that she could choose a lowly factor’s son over him, a wealthy planter. Then his father brought the pressure to bear. We lost our clientele while I was away at university. Father was utterly ruined.” He forced his gaze back to Tabitha. “I wasn’t in time to stop it.”

Tabitha’s furrowed brow showed her confusion. “Why was that on you?”

“Who else?” Edmond threw his hands out. “I am their only child. My mother has always had a weak heart. She knew nothing of the business or society world.”

“But what could you have done?”

Edmond briefly closed his eyes. This was more painful than he had imagined. “I could have passed the final exam. Then Father might have believed I could have helped him reverse the damage Hugh had done.”

Tabitha tilted her head. “I thought you said you excelled at accounting.”

“I did, yes. I do. And I can build anything. That all has to do with numbers. But reading… Do you remember when you asked me to read from your Bible?” He waited until she nodded. “It shames me to admit it, but the letters and words jumble themselves, and I cannot always sound them out in my head. ’Tis not that I cannot read but that it takes me much longer. Too long for a timed examination.”

“Oh, Edmond.” He turned away from the pity in her eyes, but she rested her hand on his arm. “Can nothing be done?”

“I’ve had the finest tutors. They do not understand it. But that is not the worst of it.”

“You do not have to tell me more. I know enough now.” She withdrew her hand and sat up straighter. “I want you to represent me to Jack McMullan.”

His chest clenched at her confidence in him, but… “You have to know the rest. ’Tis only fair.”

Tabitha sighed softly, as if reluctant. “What, then?”

“I tarried returning home, in dread of his reaction to my failure, which is what led to his death. I was the one who found him in our warehouse. He had taken a rope and strung it over a rafter…” Edmond’s throat closed, and he could not go on. He swallowed and blinked back tears. “Minutes too late.”

With a cry that seemed to also lodge in her throat, Tabitha wrapped her arms around him. She laid her cheek against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her and allowed her to nestle close. Having her there felt all too satisfying, although pity was surely the unwelcome motivator of her actions. The embrace knocked her wide-brimmed hat askew, and when she moved back to right it, he withdrew.

She studied him with her lips pressed together, as if sensing his withdrawal was emotional as well as physical. “Edmond, as your mother said, it was not your fault. For your father to have done that, to have left his wife and son in such a predicament, well…”

He finished what she would not say. “It was the coward’s way out. I know. It does not lessen my regret.”

“Of course not. But I hope you do not hold guilt over it.”

There was nothing to say. He had done what he’d done. Father had made his choice. And nothing could change any of it now.

A boat slipped past Lachlan McIntosh’s land opposite, lazing down the river without a care.

“And your fiancée?” Tabitha asked.

“What did I have to offer her? Nothing but ruin. Do you know what my name means?” He glanced at her. “Prosperous protector.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “And yet, I had failed them all.”

“No, Edmond…”

“That was when I joined the rangers.” The compassion in Tabitha’s brown eyes made Edmond’s gut twist. “Needless to say, though I told her it was the only way I could make a living and asked for her forbearance, she did not wait for my return.”

Her brow wrinkled. “But Julian?—”

“He did not get her either.” At least, that had been true in the end. Edmond had revealed all the sordid details of his past he could bear to for one day. “That is of scarce comfort. But I fear he has held it against me.”

“And you against him.” Tabitha’s somber tone as she tightened the bow of her hat ribbons beneath her mob cap hinted that his fears about her not wanting to be associated with his family might have been founded. “I just need to know if this is about revenge or about making a better future where people like the Jacksons do not always win.”

He turned his gaze toward the river and the contingent of men marching into the four-bastioned fort beyond. “I do not deceive myself that I have it in my power to give Hugh and Julian Jackson the comeuppance they deserve. I just want to see them stopped. And honest, God-fearing people succeed. But I understand if you wish you find another partner. I will still make the introduction to McMullan.”

Tabitha let out a breath and pressed against him, wrapping her hand around his arm. “I want you , Edmond.” At those unexpected words, spoken in a husky tone—at her warm, soft form so near, his eyes sought hers, and his heart raced. Did she have any idea how she affected him? He had steeled himself for rejection, yet she looked at him as though he was a kindred spirit.

But surely, that was all it was—a connection from their shared experiences. Their losses. He had just confessed his family’s most shameful secrets to her. How could she hold him in any personal esteem? Though she had fallen on hard times, he’d seen the world she came from. She would always be a part of it. And that meant he could not allow a personal connection between them, even if her current vulnerability, her gratitude, made her imagine one.

“Then I will do all I can for you.” He swallowed. “As a business partner. And hopefully, as your friend.”

“Of course.” Tabitha blinked and pulled back, a shadow snuffing out the light in her eyes. “That is all I expect.”

Good. They knew where they stood with each other. Edmond rose and offered his hand to help her up. When she quickly dropped it and walked ahead of him back toward town, he stifled the ache in his chest.

B y noon of the day following their arrival in Darien, Tabitha sat beside Edmond and across from Jack McMullan at a table in the Salty Seagull, the same tavern where she had attempted to ambush the logger a month earlier.

The tall, raw-boned Scot with gray in his dark beard eyed her as their server delivered a loaf of crusty bread and tin bowls of corn-and-potato chowder. “Why did ye not say when ye came callin’ before that ye were workin’ with Edmond Lassiter?”

“Because we only reached the agreement when we met in Savannah.” Tabitha leaned back to convey her thanks to the serving girl before she departed with her tray.

“Ye just met in Savannah?” After ripping off the end of the loaf, McMullan held the chunk in one hand while he dug into his chowder with the other.

“No. We…have known each other for some time.” Suppressing a twinge of exasperation, Tabitha exchanged a glance with Edmond. She held no desire to detail their unconventional relationship to this stranger.

“We merely met up in Savannah,” Edmond clarified, “when Mrs. Gage was visiting her family and I was in the city with the rangers.”

Tabitha attempted to move things forward a bit more speedily. “As the lieutenant stated, my three hundred acres lie across and other side of the river from Fort Howe. We have worked together before, when he obtained my cattle contract with the army.”

“But this is the first time ye’ve attempted to harvest yer timber.” McMullan raised his one eyebrow at her. “No one else has been in there yet pickin’ off the best trees?”

“That is correct. No trees have been harvested.” Tabitha took a quick sip of cider to hide her nervousness.

“You would be the first,” Edmond said. “And I have personally observed near the river several good stands of cypress and yellow pine, eighty feet tall and greater.” As he went on to detail the attributes and location of the trees he had encountered while scouting and staying on her property, Tabitha ate her stew and prayed for favor.

“I assume ye have no bulls trained to pull the logs to the river.” McMullan’s sudden statement stopped her as she lifted her last bite.

Was that what other cattle owners did with their steers? She lowered her spoon. “No trained bulls. No.”

“Then we would have to drive our own from Darien. Huh.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth, then dropped it onto his thigh. “But ’tis good yer land is not so far up the river. The logs could be floated single rather than takin’ time to construct rafts. Speeds up the process. Given that, me boys might could fit it in.”

Tabitha straightened as relief spiraled through her. “That would be wonderful. Would you require a portion of payment up front?” She held her breath. Please, God …

McMullan leaned forward and scooped up another bite of chowder. “Lassiter’s word is good as gold to me.” He waved his free hand, his bread consumed. “We know his people. Mind, I’m not sayin’ I will do it. I would need to come take a look first.”

Tabitha relaxed a fraction as she flashed a smile at Edmond. “Of course. Come this week…or as soon as you can.”

Edmond nodded. “We head home this afternoon. Call on me at the fort. I intend to explain the business to my commander there. Once he realizes setting Mrs. Gage on her feet will keep her land out of Loyalist hands, I’m certain he will support our endeavors.”

“Loyalist hands?” McMullan wiped his mouth with his sleeve and cocked his head.

Once more, Tabitha explained her husband’s indebtedness to Hugh Jackson and her determination to hold onto the acreage.

When she finished, McMullan slapped the table. “Well, why did ye no’ say so in the first place? Anythin’ to shorten the reach of the graspin’, greedy Jacksons.”

Tabitha broke into a grin. “Then we look forward to seeing you within the week, Mr. McMullan. After Lieutenant Lassiter shows you around, come to my cabin, and we can draw up our contract over a meal. You and your men can spend the night, too, if that would be helpful.”

Rather than offering his gratitude as she expected, the timberman cast a puzzled frown at Edmond. “If this isna yer land, and ye’re no kin to this lady, Edmond, why exactly are ye doin’ this?”

Edmond stiffened. “The harm the Jacksons did my family is not reason enough for you? Not to mention, the fact that they are Loyalists?”

“Aye.” McMullan sat back from the table and brushed crumbs from his hands into his empty bowl. “But look at it from my perspective, will ye? If there is no legal connection between ya, I’m not really givin’ me agreement to ye, am I? I’m givin’ it to her.” He looked from Edmond to Tabitha. The pull of his upper lip illustrated his distaste. In his eyes, she was still just a woman, an outsider, the widow of a prominent Loyalist.

Panic surging, Tabitha sat forward. “Of course, I will be paying Lieut?—”

“Mrs. Gage and I have an understanding.” Edmond’s statement cut into her explanation. “Her husband has only been gone six months. She is in mourning, as you can see.” He gestured to her black attire. What was he implying? “She lacks the luxury of time to secure her land all proper-like, so for now, we share a business partnership. But I assure you, I speak for her in all matters. Do I not, Tabitha?”

Tabitha gaped at him. Edmond’s words, his tone, his manner, made her want to shrink into herself the same way Lordy Riley’s dictatorial edicts had. They took away her power, her choices. But Edmond’s eyes pleaded with her to agree. If she did not, they would lose this contract. “Yes.” She managed to squeak the word out.

Jack McMullan drummed his fingers on the table as he looked between them. Finally, he thumped the wood again. “Verra well. Saturday, I will come visit yer trees.” He stuck out his hand, and rising, he and Edmond shook on it. When Tabitha rose, too, her legs shaky, the logger took her hand and bowed over it. “Madam. And may I be the first to offer me congratulations. Ye did well fer yerself, Eddie.” With a wink at Edmond, McMullan fished a coin out of his pocket, laid it beside his empty bowl, and waved as he headed for the door.

It had scarcely closed behind him when Tabitha turned on Edmond. Heat flashed through her. “Why did you just allow him to believe we were courting?”

His brows pulled together. “If I had not, he would not have agreed.”

“But what happens if we do not wed?”

Edmond flattened his mouth. Did her questioning him provoke his ire? “His crew will have the trees harvested long before that would be expected.”

“So I have no say in the matter.” Tabitha sank back onto her chair. “I am simply to do as you say.”

“You have all the say in the matter.” Sitting next to her again, Edmond reached for her hands. “I am sorry if you felt circumvented, Tabitha. That was not my intention. If he had left the table without an agreement, we would have stood no chance of securing your income. You know that, right?”

Tabitha exhaled a shaky breath. His warm grasp worked to thaw her hurt. “I do know it. ’Twas just the manner in which you went about it.” So painfully…familiar.

Edmond’s eyes sparked with sudden understanding. “From here on out, I shall say nothing to Jack you have not approved first. You have my word.”

How she wanted to stay angry, but when he lifted her hands and kissed the knuckles of first one, then the other—his lips brushing her bare skin this time—fire coursed through her that had nothing to do with her temper.

And his eyes, when he raised his head…light from the window accentuated the amber flecks in them. “Miladay…I am your servant,” he said. “Will you forgive me?”

Tabitha gave a simple nod, not trusting herself to speak.

Edmond’s lopsided smile carved a laugh line in his one cheek. The sight was so unexpected, so startling, she held in a gasp. Was he flirting with her? Tabitha’s heart turned over. Every time she convinced herself she was better off keeping him at arm’s length, he broke down another wall.

She wasn’t quite ready to surrender to his charm. “You told me just yesterday this was a business arrangement. Now you want me to pretend we are betrothed?”

Edmond lowered their joined hands to his knees. “Let Jack think what he will. The important thing is that we get the contract. Right?”

“I suppose.” When he grinned and squeezed her hands, Tabitha looked away.

Gossip had a way of spreading. Others might learn of her intimate association with Edmond Lassiter. Would that really be so bad if it got her what she needed? She no longer cared for her reputation in society—so long as their conduct was upstanding before God. The only risk would be to her heart. And she could manage that, could she not?