“Lass,” Alex said patiently, “they have mail service out of here, so you can write to your other brothers and ask them to come and get you. What was the pretty one’s name?”
“Ethan. No. If Adam said Tally was to come for me, then it will be Tally. No one contradicts Adam.”
A quick frown crossed Alex’s face, but he got it under control. “Will you come see me off tomorrow?”
“I thought you were leaving today. I was hoping you’d leave today.”
“Grady is to bring the flatboat with more supplies, and we leave early tomorrow. Will you cry when you wave good-bye to me?”
“I’m going to throw a party.”
“And will the girls be there? Will you sneak kisses with them?”
She picked up her fork and lunged across the table at him, but he pulled back, laughing, just as Thankfull returned.
“I hope they’re cooked to your liking,” she said, looking in curiosity from Cay to Alex, then back again.
“Excellent,” Alex said, glancing up at Thankfull with a warm smile.
She returned his smile before she went back to the kitchen.
“You were flirting with her,” Cay said in a voice that was mostly a hiss.
“She’s an attractive woman,” Alex said.
“And you’re a married man.”
“Nay, lass,” Alex said quietly, “I’m not.”
“I didn’t mean . . . ,” she began, then stopped. She wasn’t good at being angry. Even when she was a child and Tally did truly horrible things to her, she couldn’t stay mad for long. She put her head on her hands, elbows on the table. “I don’t want to stay here alone.”
“Thankfull seems like a nice enough person, so maybe she’ll turn out to be your friend.” There was sympathy in Alex’s voice.
“She’s in love with Uncle T.C.”
“Is she now? Who would have thought of that? Is he in love with her?”
“How would I know that? I’m his goddaughter. He doesn’t talk to me of his love life.”
“Maybe he should. It would have been better than telling you about the murderers in his life.”
Cay couldn’t help it, but she smiled. “I agree with you on that.”
Reaching across the table, he took her hand, and she looked at him. “I’m truly sorry about all this, lass. I didn’t mean for it to happen, and neither did T.C. If he hadn’t been so stupid as to climb on that ladder, he’d be here now and not you.”
“And he’d be going with you,” Cay said, her eyes pleading.
Alex pulled his hand back and took a bite of his eggs. “Don’t start on me again. You canna go, and that’s final.”
“He’s here!” one of the twins shouted as she ran into the dining room. Her eyes went directly to Cay. “Oooooh,” she said and sat down beside her, but Cay stood up.
“Who’s here?” Alex asked.
The girl didn’t so much as look at him; her eyes were directly on Cay. “Mr. Grady.”
“Oh,” Cay said flatly, looking at Alex.
He rapidly took three more bites of egg, grabbed his hat, and said he had to go.
Cay was right on his heels.
At the door, he stopped. “I think you should stay here. I don’t know where Grady’s been, so he may have heard the news from Charleston. He could be suspicious of you.”
“My name was cleared, remember? It’s you who’s in danger, not me.”
Alex grimaced.
“But it was a good try,” she said. “Really, I almost believed you.”
Alex laughed. “Then it was worth it.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go, little brother, and see what awaits me.”
“You, not me,” Cay said gloomily. “You saw in the dining room what’s waiting for me.”
“Those girls aren’t bad, brother. Maybe when I get back I’ll be invited to your wedding.”
“You are not funny.”
Laughing, Alex tightened his arm around her shoulder, but she twisted away.
“I hope an alligator eats your leg.”
“Now, lass, you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. I—” She broke off because they’d reached the dock and standing amid the many boxes and crates was a tall man wearing a snowy white shirt, with a dark green vest, and fawn-colored breeches. On his head was a big felt hat with a wide brim. His face was turned away from them, but she could see that he was young and had a horseman’s muscular thighs.
“Is that him?”
When Alex looked at her, he frowned at her expression. “I guess so. Why?”
“He reminds me of someone I know, that’s all.”
“I think you should go back to the boardinghouse. If Grady recognizes you, we’re sunk. I promise that I’ll come to say good-bye to you this afternoon.”
She moved away from Alex when he again tried to put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m not going back to that place until I have to. I wish he’d turn around so I could see his face.”
Alex stepped in front of her to block her view. “I don’t like this. If you think you know this man, then he’ll know you. He won’t think you’re a boy.”
“If he’s who I think he is, he won’t recognize me, since the only time I saw him, I was eight years old.”
“I still think—” Alex began.
“Are you Yates?” came a voice from behind them.
Reluctantly, Alex took his eyes off Cay and turned around, and when he heard her gasp from behind him, he realized that this was the man she knew.
James Grady was a very handsome man. He looked to be in his early thirties, was as tall as Alex, but heavier built, as he hadn’t spent weeks in near starvation. He had dark hair and gray eyes, and there were long dimples in his cheeks.
As soon as Alex saw the man, he knew things about him. Like Cay, Grady seemed to exude an air of money. When you looked at the man, you saw a drawing room with port in crystal glasses and cigar smoke. You saw women in dresses so elegant they looked to have been created on Mount Olympus.
Without a doubt, Alex knew that James Grady was an older version of the rich plantation boys Alex had beaten in the horse races in Charleston. In other words, he was of the same class and education as Cay. He was of her crowd, her social station in life. He was her equal.
Alex told himself he had no reason to hate the man, but he could feel the emotion coursing through his veins.
“Are you Yates?” the man asked again.
“Yes,” Alex finally managed to say. “I’m Alex Yates.”
“And you’re the friend T.C. wrote me about, the one who can handle any animal?”
“Ah dunnae kinn abit ’at, but I’ll dae th’ best Ah can.
“I beg your pardon?”
During this exchange, Alex had managed to keep Cay behind him. She’d tried to escape his grasp on her, but he’d held on tight. At last, she dug her elbows into his back and he had to let go.
She slipped around Alex and put herself in front of him to stare up at Mr. Grady with wide eyes. “I’m Charles Albert Yates,” she said as she held her shoulders back and her chest out. “This is my brother, and I’m his translator.”
Alex realized that, yet again, he’d fallen back into his heavy accent and Grady hadn’t been able to understand him.
“What my brother said was that he was appreciative of the compliment from Mr. Connor, and that he’d do his best to live up to expectations.”
“Did he now?” Mr. Grady said, smiling down at Cay in merriment. “He said all that in just those few words?”
“He did,” Cay said, not seeming to realize that Mr. Grady was teasing her. “He can speak English, but he’s not very good at it.”
“And why is it that your brother has such a heavy accent, but you have none?”
“Och, but Ah dae when Ah lit myself,” she said, her eyes showing her delight.
Mr. Grady laughed. “Well, boy, I can see that you’ll be a fine addition to our little team. You can—”
“He�
�s not going,” Alex said loudly in American English.
“Oh, excuse me,” Mr. Grady said. “I thought he would be going with us.”
“He has to stay here and wait for his brother—our brother—to come and get him.”
“A fine, healthy lad like this one can’t travel around our great country on his own? How old are you, boy?”
Cay started to say she was twenty, but Alex pushed her with his elbow so that she almost fell. While she was trying to regain her balance, Alex said, “Sixteen.”
Mr. Grady looked at Cay righting herself and said, “He looks older.” He was looking at her as though he was trying to remember something, so Alex stepped between them.
“I’ll take care of the horses and do the hunting and whatever else you need,” Alex said.
“What I need is someone who can draw and paint the wonders that we’ll see.” Mr. Grady started walking back to the wharf, Alex beside him, with Cay coming up behind them. She was half the size of either of the men and she had trouble getting around them. Every time she tried to go around Alex, he reached out an arm and stopped her. After two attempts, she ran around the side of Mr. Grady to walk beside him.
“If I’d known about T.C.’s accident, I could have brought someone from home. There’s a boy there who can draw a bit. He’s not as good as T.C., but few are. Now I’m here, ready to go, but I have no one to record what we see. Have you ever been into the depths of Florida, Mr. Yates?”
Alex glanced across him at Cay and saw that she was wide-eyed as she looked up at Mr. Grady in fascination. Before anything else was done, he had to get her back to the boardinghouse.
“By the way, I’m just one generation away from the heather,” Mr. Grady said into the silence. “My father came from Scotland when he was just a lad, no older than young Charlie here, and—”
“Cay,” she said, and when he looked down at her, she said louder, “I’m called that for my initials.”
“Cay, is it?” For a moment Mr. Grady blinked at her before turning back to Alex. “You two came down from Charleston?”
“We did.”
“What is this I heard about an escaped murderer? A cousin of mine lives there, and his letters were full of nothing else. Your name of Alex reminded me of it. Seems the black’ard killed his wife on their wedding night.”
Alex opened his mouth to say something, but no sounds came out.
“It was terrible,” Cay said quickly, “but there were rumors that the man was innocent, that he was the victim of a plot so evil that they couldn’t even write about it in the newspapers.”
“Is that so?” Mr. Grady said. “My cousin must not have known about that because he certainly didn’t write about it in his letters.”
“It was Uncle T.C. who told us all about it.”
“Uncle, is it?”
“Yes, sir,” Cay said. “He’s my godfather.”
“Interesting,” Mr. Grady said. “I’ve known T.C. for about ten years, but I’ve never heard him mention any boys who were his godsons.”
“I guess since we lived in Scotland he forgot about us,” Cay said. She was careful not to look at Alex on the other side of Mr. Grady because Alex was giving her looks that said she was to keep her mouth shut. The lies she was concocting were piling up on one another. Cay ignored him. “So you don’t have an artist for the trip?”
“You aren’t going to tell me that you can draw, are you?”
“He can’t!” Alex said loudly. “He hardly knows how to hold a pencil, much less a paintbrush. Isn’t that true, little brother?” He was glaring at her.
“Actually, in school, I was rather good at drawing. Certainly better than some.” She looked across Grady to Alex. “You were away most of the time, so you don’t remember.”
“Well, then, boy, let’s give you a try,” Mr. Grady said. “I always carry a portable writing desk with me, so do you think you can make do with stationery and a pen?”
“I can try,” Cay said with all the modesty she could muster.
“I don’t think—” Alex began, but when both Cay and Mr. Grady turned to look at him, he stopped. “I need to talk to my brother alone.”
“Shall we meet back here when you’re ready?” Mr. Grady said. “I’ll have pen and paper waiting.”
Alex lost no time in grabbing Cay’s arm and pulling her to the side of one of the buildings. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I want to go with you.”
“We talked about this before. This trip is too dangerous, so you can’t go, and that’s final.”
“Walking into the mouth of Hades would be better than staying here and waiting for Tally to come and make fun of me.”
Alex ran his hand over his bearded face and tried to count to ten, but he knew that if he counted to a hundred it would make no difference. “You canna go with us,” he said as calmly as he could manage. “Even your own brother told you to stay here.”
“Adam doesn’t know that there are extenuating circumstances. If he knew who I was traveling with, he’d tell me to go.”
Alex leaned back against the wall to the building and drew in a deep breath. “All right, out with it. Who is he?”
“Who is who?”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“I just thought I’d add a little levity into this, but you seem to have lost your sense of humor. All right! Stop looking at me like that. Mr. Grady’s real name is James Armitage and he—”
Alex groaned.
“So you’ve heard of the family?”
“I was told of them as soon as I got off the boat from Scotland. The father wanted to buy my horses.”
“King.”
“What?”
“Jamie’s father is called ‘King’ as in ‘King Armitage.’”
“Jamie?”
“That’s what his family calls him. It’s my guess that his middle name is Grady. Maybe that was his mother’s maiden name. Do you know why Jamie’s father is called King?”
“I think he owns Georgia, doesn’t he?”
“Only a big part of it. It’s South Carolina that he owns most of. Jamie is the third son, and I can see why he’s traveling under a made-up name. It’s the only way he’s going to be treated as a regular person. And he was very nice, wasn’t he?”
Alex put his hand over his eyes for a moment. “Please tell me you’re not back to trying to find yourself a husband.”
She leaned against the wall beside Alex and said in a dreamy way, “When I was eight years old, I went with my parents to Gracewell, South Carolina, to visit the Armitage family. My father worked with Mr. Armitage during the War for Independence, and they’re friends. My father doesn’t call him King; he calls him Billy, and they spend a lot of time talking about Scotland. When we visited, Jamie was home from William and Mary. That’s—”
“I know what it is, and believe it or not, I can read and write, too.”
Cay looked at him as though to ask what he was talking about, but then went on with her story. “I was just eight years old, he was twenty-two, and he pushed me on a swing.”
Alex waited for a moment, but she said nothing else. “And what happened?”
“Nothing. That’s it. He pushed me on the swing for about half an hour, then he went back into the house, and the next morning he left before I was up. I never saw him again.”
Alex moved away from the wall to look at her. “Am I missing something here? You made this sound like it was really important.”
“It was. That night I told my mother I was going to marry Jamie Armitage, and she said I’d made a good choice.”
Alex blinked at her a few times. “Have you always been so obsessed with marriage?”
“I want to get it right. What’s so wrong with that? I’ve seen unhappy marriages and I don’t want to live like that.” She put her arms over her chest and turned away from him.
“Just a few days ago you were talking to me about the three men you were trying to decide about, and no
w you’re after this man.”
She turned back to face him. “I’m not after any man. I’m just telling you that I know this man. I know his family, his home, and some of the towns that his father owns.”
“And you want to travel with me so you can go after him, just as those twins are going after you?”
“You’re disgusting.”
Alex took a few deep breaths to calm himself so he could try a different approach. “Your brother Adam told you to stay here and wait, and I think that’s what you should do.”
“I think Adam would want me to spend as much time with an Armitage son as possible. Adam didn’t like—” Cutting herself off, she looked away from Alex.
“He didn’t like what?”
She didn’t want to answer, but Alex kept staring at her. “The men.”
“Are you saying that your oldest brother, who you seem to revere, didn’t like the three men you were considering marrying?”
“Yes. Are you happy now?”
Alex couldn’t resist a smile. “What did Adam say about them?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Was it that bad? Or are you just too cowardly to repeat his words?”
“Adam said those three men weren’t good enough to kiss the soles of my shoes. There! Does knowing that make you happy?”
“Pretty much.” He was grinning. “You know, every word you’ve told me about your precious Adam has made me dislike the bas—the man, but now I’m beginning to think we might like each other.”
“No you wouldn’t. You’re too much alike.”
“Alike? Are you changing your story and saying that I am like your oldest brother?”
“You’re getting too much pleasure out of this, so I’m not going to say another word to you about anything, except that I’m going to go with Jamie whether you like it or not.”
“You’re not.”
“Am.”
“Not.”
“Am.”
Alex made his hands into fists. What he wanted to do was throw her over his shoulder and tie her to a tree. He’d pay someone to free her four hours after they’d sailed away—or maybe it should be six. She could move quickly.
“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me. I’m going and that’s final.”
“And do what? Dress the men’s hair? Mend their clothes? I heard that you’ve had some practice in doing laundry. I know! How about if you do the cooking?”