Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(99)
“Good morning, Squire Trahern,” Nathanial greeted.
Trahern turned from a copy of the Whitehall Evening Post, which he received in small bales from his ships. It was his only remaining link with London after years of separation.
“And a good morning to you, sir,” the older man returned jovially. “Sit and join me in a bite to eat.” He beckoned Nathanial to take a chair beside him. “A poor thing to start the day on an empty belly, and I speak from experience, if you please.”
“Aye,” Nathanial chuckled, accepting a cup of steaming coffee from Milan. “Or a slab of salt meat ripe with age.”
Orlan Trahern gestured to the newspaper propped before him. “Peacetime quickly separates the real merchants from the warmongers.” At the captain’s raised brow, he continued. “Almost anyone can turn a tidy profit during a war, but only the good merchants manage to stay afloat when the country is at peace. Those who made their money skimming the king’s barrels and shorting the navy’s powder with sand cannot compete on an honest market.”
“I shall yield to your wisdom on the matter.” Nathanial leaned back in his chair. “Treachery is dealt with harshly in the colonies, and, although a certain amount of caution is due, one rarely meets with a cheat.”
Now it was Trahern who leaned back in his chair to watch the other. “Tell me more of this place, your colonies. The idea of going there fascinates me.”
The captain toyed with his cup for a moment before he spoke. “Our land is in the foothills of Virginia. Not so much settled as Williamsburg or Jamestown, but there is much to be said about it. Green rolling hills, forests for miles on end. The land is rich with opportunity for poor men and wealthy alike. My parents raised a family of three boys and twin girls in what most people would term an uncivilized land. In turn, each of us but the youngest lad, who is coming to a full seven-and-ten years next month, and one of the girls who is a score of summers old, have married and, God willing, will raise up their families with as much success. We have been called hearty, because we survived. Perhaps we are. But ‘tis love and pride in our land that has made us so. If you could but see it, sir, I’m sure you’d understand.”
Trahern nodded thoughtfully. “I will come.” He thumped the table and laughed with his decision. “By damn, I will come and see it all.”
“I am glad, sir, but I doubt you will see it all.” Nathanial Beauchamp, too, was elated. “There is land beyond us as far as a man can walk in a year. I have been told of prairies like the sea where if a man does not mark his way he will become lost, for he can see naught but grass. There is a river to the west so wide it is a strain to see across and beasts the like of which have not been seen in any other part of the world. There is a strange deer, taller than a horse and with antlers like huge shovels. I tell you, sir, there are wonders in the land that I cannot describe.”
“Your enthusiasm is amazing, captain,” Trahern chuckled. “I had expected most colonials to be a tired, carping lot.”
“I know of no other land as beautiful, sir, nor one that promises as much,” Nathanial replied, subdued, a trifle embarrassed at his own outburst.
Both men paused as the front door of the mansion closed. Footsteps could be heard coming across the marble floor toward the dining room. The sound stopped in the dining room doorway, and Trahern twisted around in his chair. Ruark stood with one hand on the jamb, surprised to find the older man occupied. Mumbling an apology, he half turned to leave.
“Nay, John Ruark. Come in, lad,” Trahern bellowed and faced Captain Beauchamp. “Here is a man whom you should meet. A colonial like yourself, he is. He has made himself most valuable here.”
As Ruark approached the table, Trahern introduced the two. They shook hands briefly. The captain, with a twisted grin, looked pointedly toward the short breeches Ruark was wearing.
“You have adapted yourself to the climate here very well, sir. On occasion I have coddled the idea myself, but I fear my wife would be much distressed at the sight of me gallivanting around like a half-dressed savage.”
Trahern’s belly shook with muted mirth as Ruark seated himself, casting a dubious glance toward the captain.
“ ‘Tis a fact Mister Ruark has turned a few of the ladies’ heads with his garb. Whether from shock or approval remains to be seen. When I see which of the young maidens grows fat-bellied with child, perhaps I’ll have the answer.”
Under Nathanial’s amused scrutiny, Ruark shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He readily accepted a cup of the steaming brew from Milan and paid close attention to the servant filling his plate. While the black man fetched him a bowl of fruit, Ruark changed the subject and spoke to Trahern.