MacFarlane's Ridge (23 page)

“Why? Where is he?” she whispered suspiciously.

Wanda shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s send this old nag of yours back home.”

“No, Wanda, what are you talking about?”

Wanda ignored her and removed Cam’s saddlebags from the mare. She swatted Betsey on the rump, and the horse trotted away out of sight.

“Wanda?” Cam jumped out of the cart and hovered next to Wanda. “What is it? Oh, no, wait a minute. You’re a history professor – you know what happens to all of these people, don’t you? You know?”

Wanda spun around to face her. “You think I like being in this position? Knowing that if I talk to the wrong person or do the wrong thing, that I could change history? You’re in the same boat, you know.”

Cam frowned. “What are you saying?”

Wanda sighed. “Look, let’s say we go down this trail and accidentally run the cart into another wagon – which could certainly happen because my horse is stupid. Suppose the other wagon is carrying, I don’t know, George Washington, or the great-grandmother of Abraham Lincoln? What if all the occupants are killed? Does that mean that George stops leading the Continental Army, or Abe Lincoln is never born?” She stared at Cam. “Don’t you see? Every action we take will determine what happens at some time in the future, even if we don’t realize it. That’s why I can’t tell you to go to Richmond or not to go to Richmond. Because whatever happens, either it happens because you were there or because you weren’t. But I don’t know which.”

Cam sat back down slowly. “Wanda? Will you go with me? Help me find Rob?”

“You’ll definitely need help. We still have to deal with Wayne Sinclair, remember?”

March 28, 1776 –

We have received word from my brother Angus that he is now in Richmond, returned from the Congress in Philadelphia, and is attempting to locate a buyer for the Lady Meg. He enclosed for us a copy of
Common Sense
, by Mr. Thomas Paine, an Englishman, which he bought for two shillings. Mr. Paine states that no government that is just can fail to defend the idea that all humanity is entitled to the equality of rights. He is a brilliant man, and I am certain that the Colonies’ battle for Independence shall soon draw our men of Virginia into its fold. The militias have formed, and all are eager to fight the Crown.

I have written to Angus and advised him of the happenings here on the Ridge. He will meet Robert at the Lady Meg in Richmond. Ian is now back safe with us, and for that I am thankful. It seems that he may not lose his eye after all, although he does have a most frightening scar above it. We have not seen the cad Wayne Sinclair since the day Miss Clark left us, and Robert is angry that he has been unable to locate her. I suspect Mr. Sinclair is now long gone, but I am still fearful that he may someday return. I pray that, wherever Miss Clark is, that she is safe from his clutches.

Richmond, VA

Angus Duncan was enjoying himself immensely. He was surrounded by a bevy of lovely young women of questionable moral character. He loved Richmond. He had been here nearly a month now and knew that eventually he was going to have to make his way home. It was a shame, really. Things were rather dull on the ridge, compared to the excitement of life in Philadelphia and Richmond. The cities both appealed to him.

Angus made himself at home in the dockside taverns, particularly the one where he kept a room, the Captain Carter. He liked the sailors and their gruff ways, and occasionally felt himself longing for a life at sea, a life like the one Robert had enjoyed for the past fifteen years.

Angus was a small and lean man with wire-rimmed glasses that perched on the end of his pointed nose. He had been ill frequently as a child, and had immersed himself in books as a boy while the other children, including his younger sisters, played outside. In truth, although he had always wished for excitement and adventure, the clerical life had suited him well. It had earned him some respect here in the Colonies, enough that the people of the ridge and nearby settlements had sent him as a delegate to the Continental Congress. There he had met men of standing, including a dashing red-headed planter from Virginia, a fellow named Tom Jefferson. Now, back in his home state, Angus was simply biding his time on the wharfs, waiting for his brother-in-law to arrive at
The Lady Meg
.

There was a fair amount of ships in port right now, waiting for spring to arrive so they could set sail to their far-off destinations. The docks were a whirlwind of activity, with sailors and civilians milling here and there. There was a conspicuous amount of red-coated soldiers as well, and officers who claimed to be “customs officials.” Angus knew better; these were excise men employed by the Crown to make certain that nobody shipped anything they had not paid a duty tax on.

Every day, Angus went to
The Lady Meg
. Ninety feet long, she was a wide-keeled vessel, and was shaped rather like a long, fat bowl. Her three masts held a total of eighteen sails, and there were constantly men climbing up in the rigging to repair this or check on that. Angus noted the gun ports around the deck. There were at least a dozen four-pounders that he could see, and he suspected there were even more that he couldn’t. Her hull was painted a forest green, and she had a broad white stripe that ran around the water line. At the bow, a full-breasted wooden mermaid resided. It was no wonder Rob loved the sea so much; his ship was beautiful.

Although Rob was the first mate and partial owner of the ship, the man actually in charge was a Captain Dominic Thibodeaux, whom Angus had yet to meet. Every time he went to the wharf, Thibodeaux seemed to be busy. Angus excused himself, much to the dismay of the tavern girls, and exited the inn. It was the beginning of April now, and most of the ships would be leaving within a day or two. Rob was going to have to get here soon if he planned to sell his ship.

Angus made his way to
The Lady Meg’s
dock. An English officer stood at the loading plank.

“Back again, Mr. Duncan?” he asked politely.

“Aye. Do you know if the Captain is about?”

The man shrugged. “Go see for yourself.”

Angus nodded pleasantly, and wandered up to the deck. He had been here so often that the sailors were friendly towards him now. A cabin boy scampered up to him.

“Angus!”

“Hello, Jamie. Is Captain Thibodeaux available today, or shall I come back again later?”

“He be here. I told him ye’d be wishin’ to see him, an’ that ye be Master Robbie’s brother-in-law. He said to show ye to his cabin when ye come up.”

Angus followed the boy up the steps to the foredeck. Jamie rapped on a door. “Cap’n!” he called. “Tis Master Robbie’s brother Angus to see ye!”

A deep voice from within rumbled something Angus couldn’t make out.

“Go on, then, sir,” encouraged Jamie. “He ain’t so fearsome once ye get to know him.”

Caught off guard, Angus stumbled into the cabin. It was a good-sized room, lined with chests and cabinets. On one table was a pile of maps and a sextant for navigation. A pair of lanterns dangled overhead. Captain Thibodeaux leaned over a desk, his back to Angus. He was writing in a journal.

“
Un momente, s’il vous plait
,” he murmured.

Angus occupied himself by examining the treasures hanging on the wall. There were paintings and woodcarvings, and on a table sat an ornate brass globe.

“
Pardonnez moi
,” said the Captain. “I was working on the ship’s log for today. You are Monsieur MacFarlane’s brother, no?”

“Not exactly. His brother was married to my youngest sister.” Angus turned around, and gulped audibly. Captain Thibodeaux was nothing like he had expected. The captain laughed.

“I see Robert did not tell you much about me, eh?”

Angus blushed. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I thought ye’d be… er…”

“A white man?” Thibodeaux grinned.

“Aye,” admitted Angus. Dominic Thibodeaux had skin the color of a walnut, and was easily the tallest man Angus had ever seen, even taller than Rob. He wore a large gold hoop in each ear, and had tattoos on nearly every visible surface of his body, including his cheeks and forehead.

“A pleasure to meet you,
monsieur
,” he said in his soft island lilt, extending his enormous hand. Angus reciprocated.

“The pleasure is mine, sir,” he smiled. The cabin boy had been right. Thibodeaux seemed like a pleasant sort. “Forgive me for prying, but how did ye end up as the captain of a merchant vessel?”

“Ah! You ask how a black man could be in this position? Same as a white man could be. I come from far away, across the sea. The traders bring me to New Orleans, and I start out as a slave, on the docks, and I work hard. Monsieur MacFarlane found me. Not Robert, his uncle Andrew.” Robbie’s name came out as the French
Ro-behr
. “He put me to work, set me free, and asked me to stay on. Nobody else can navigate
The Lady Meg
like Dominic Thibodeaux. So here I be, eh?”

Angus smiled. “Ye know Robbie wants to sell his share, aye?”

“
Oui.
And you think the new owners may not like a black man at the helm, perhaps?”

“It did cross my mind,” Angus said dryly. He was examining a life-sized brass statue of a naked island girl. “She’s a beauty.”

“
Merci.
Have a drink,” the captain offered. “The finest rum in Jamaica.”

Angus sipped cautiously, then smiled. “Och, that’s lovely. What will you do when Rob sells his share?”

Thibodeaux shrugged. “We shall see. Perhaps I shall buy his share myself and become partners with Andrew.”

“Can ye afford it?” Angus blurted out, not thinking.

The other man winked. “As much as the next man, eh? Your brother-in-law is a frugal man, Robert is, and he has taught me the importance of not spending money foolishly. Perhaps I shall use what he has taught me to buy this ship from him.”

“Don’t the British give ye any trouble? I would think they would assume ye were a slave.”

Thibodeaux laughed. “I do not go out much when I am in Richmond. That is why I keep so many white men around. They do my errands for me!”

Angus chuckled. Now that he thought about it, it was unlikely that the soldiers would waste their time harassing a seven-foot-tall black man with a tattooed face.

“Well, I may have some interesting news for you,” said Angus. “I’ve just come from Philadelphia. I have a letter of authority for you from Congress.” He handed the paper to Thibodeaux.

Thibodeaux waved his hand, and put his boots up on the desk casually. “And this letter says?”

Angus cleared his throat. “Congress has authorized merchantmen to seize British vessels. We’re hoping that if enough are taken, the British will begin to see the advantage of withdrawing from the Colonies.”

The captain nodded. “And anything we capture, what happens to the cargo?”

“You keep it.”

“And the men?”

Angus sighed. “That’s a wee bit more difficult. Some of them may wish to join you, and if ye’ll have them, that’s fine. Those who refuse should be dropped off at the nearest port of call.”

Thibodeaux leaned in closer. “Begging your pardon, Monsieur Duncan, but does Congress realize that there are times when we go months between ports?”

Angus shifted uncomfortably. “Er, well, yes. Of course, you would be authorized to do whatever necessary to maintain peace on your ship.”

The captain’s brown eyes narrowed. “And Congress is permitting this piracy?”

“Actually, we like to think of it as privateering for the common good of our nation, ye ken?”

Thibodeaux smiled broadly. “This Congress of yours is clever. I should be happy to do my part for the patriotic movement,
oui
?”

“
Oui
. Good for you, Captain Thibodeaux.”

“Dominic, please. When will Robert be arriving?”

Angus swirled the deep brown rum in his glass. “That’s a good question, Capt – sorry, Dominic. I should hope he’d be here soon. I received a letter from my sister Mollie. She says there’s been a wee spot of mischief at home.”

Thibodeaux raised an eyebrow. “Is Robert in trouble?”

“No, no,” Angus shook his head hastily. “Something about a woman.”

The sea captain snorted. “I have been friends with Monsieur Robert for nearly a dozen years. I have never known him to allow a woman to interfere with his life.”

“Well, apparently one has. I dinna know the extent of it, but I’m sure he’ll only tell us what he wants us to know, and not a bit more.”

“To be certain, that sounds like Robert.”

The men chatted a bit longer, and then Angus excused himself. He needed to get back to the wharf. A tavern girl named Katherine had hinted that she would be available this afternoon.

By that night, Angus was thoroughly inebriated. Katherine had failed to appear at the Captain Carter, and instead Angus had made himself comfortable with a group of raucous young men from Boston who were passing through town. One of them raised toast after toast, each of which Angus politely saluted.

“To liberty!” the young man shouted.

“To liberty,” Angus echoed. He tossed back his umpteenth glass of whiskey, and felt his head begin to spin. He bid his companions goodnight, and staggered upstairs to his room. He paused in the hallway to vomit on his brocade vest, and then made his way through the door. As he slammed it shut behind him, he had a brief sense of something being wrong, but he was too drunk to be sure what it was. Suddenly it occurred to him that he had not needed to unlock his door when he came in. He spun dizzily to look behind him. All Angus Duncan saw was a dark shape, and the flash of a sword’s blade.

He collapsed in a drunken heap on the floor.

“I think you scared him,” pointed out Wanda, as she dragged Angus to his bed.

“I didn’t mean to,” apologized Cam. “I just wanted to show him his father’s sword so he would know I had really been at the ridge with Mollie.”

Wanda sniffed suspiciously. “Drunk as a lord. Probably a good thing he passed out. Small men can be feisty when they get drunk.”

“Is that so?” asked Cam.

Wanda winked. “It is. I like small guys. He’s kind of cute, isn’t he? He looks so peaceful. Aside from the fact that he’s gone and barfed on himself, I mean.”

“Not my type, but I’ll agree with you on the peaceful part. Now what do we do?”

Wanda settled herself on the floor in the corner. “Now we wait for our friend Angus to wake up. You sleep first.”