“Really?” Jay was surprised. The man had gone without his wages. “Good thing we’ve got Lennox to take over.”
“I think Lennox drove him away. Apparently Sowerby had lost a lot of money to him at cards.”
That made sense. “Lennox is a good card player.”
“Lennox wants to be overseer here.”
They were standing on the front portico, and at that moment Lennox came around the side of the house. With his usual lack of grace he did not welcome Jay back. Instead he said: “There’s a consignment of salt cod in barrels just arrived.”
“I ordered it,” Lizzie said. “It’s for the field hands.”
Jay was annoyed. “Why do you want to feed them fish?”
“Colonel Thumson says they work better. He gives his slaves salt fish every day and meat once a week.”
“Colonel Thumson is richer than I am. Send the stuff back, Lennox.”
“They’re going to have to work hard this winter, Jay,” Lizzie protested. “We have to clear all the woodland in Pond Copse ready for planting with tobacco next spring.”
Lennox said quickly: “That isn’t necessary. There’s plenty of life left in the fields, with good manuring.”
“You can’t manure forever,” Lizzie rejoined. “Colonel Thumson clears land every winter.”
Jay realized this was an argument the two of them had been through before.
Lennox said: “We don’t have enough hands. Even with the men from the Rosebud, we can only just manage to plant the fields we have. Colonel Thumson has more slaves than us.”
“That’s because he makes more money—due to better methods,” Lizzie said triumphantly.
Lennox sneered: “Women just don’t understand these things.”
Lizzie snapped: “Leave us, please, Mr. Lennox—immediately.”
Lennox looked angry but he went away.
“You must get rid of him, Jay,” she said.
“I don’t see why—”
“It’s not just that he’s brutal. Frightening people is the only thing he’s good at. He can’t understand farming and he doesn’t know anything about tobacco—and the worst of it is he’s not interested in learning.”
“He knows how to get the hands working hard.”
“There’s no point in driving them hard if they’re doing the wrong work!”
“You’ve suddenly become an expert on tobacco.”
“Jay, I grew up on a big estate and I saw it go bankrupt—not through the laziness of peasants, but because my father died and my mother couldn’t cope with managing land. Now I see you making all the familiar errors—staying away too long, mistaking harshness for discipline, letting someone else make strategic decisions. You wouldn’t run a regiment this way!”
“You don’t know anything about running a regiment.”
“And you don’t know anything about running a farm!”
Jay was getting angry but he held it in. “So what are you asking me to do?”
“Dismiss Lennox.”
“But who would take over?”
“We could do it together.”
“I don’t want to be a farmer!”
“Then let me do it.”
Jay nodded. “I thought as much.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“All this is just so that you can be in charge, isn’t it?”
He was afraid she would explode, but instead she went quiet. “Is that what you really think?”
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
“I’m trying to save you. You’re headed for disaster, I’m fighting to prevent it, and you think I just want to order people around. If that’s what you think of me, why the devil did you marry me?”
He did not like her to use strong language: it was too masculine. “In those days you used to be pretty,” he said.
Her eyes flashed fire, but she did not speak. Instead she turned around and walked into the house.
Jay breathed a sigh of relief. It was not often he got the better of her.
After a moment he followed her in. He was surprised to see McAsh in the hall, dressed in a waistcoat and indoor shoes, putting a new pane of glass in a window. What the devil was he doing in the house?
“Lizzie!” Jay called. He went into the drawing room and found her there. “Lizzie, I just saw McAsh in the hall.”
“I’ve put him in charge of maintenance. He’s been painting the nursery.”
“I don’t want that man in my house.”
Her reaction took him by surprise. “Then you’ll just have to suffer it!” she blazed.
“Well—”
“I will not be alone here while Lennox is on the estate. I absolutely refuse, do you understand?”
“All right—”
“If McAsh goes, I go too!” She stormed out of the room.
“All right!” he said to the door as it slammed. He was not going to fight a war over one damned convict. If she wanted the man to paint the nursery so be it.
On the sideboard he saw an unopened letter addressed to him. He picked it up and recognized his mother’s handwriting. He sat down by the window and opened it.
7, Grosvenor Square
London
September 15, 1768My dear son,The new coal pit at High Glen has been restored after the accident, and coal mining has recommenced.
Jay smiled. His mother could be very businesslike.Robert has spent several weeks there, consolidating the two estates and arranging for them to be run as one property.I told your father that you should have a royalty on the coal, as the land is yours. His reply was that he is paying the interest on the mortgages. However, I’m afraid the deciding factor was the way you took the best convicts from the Rosebud. Your father was furious and so was Robert.
Jay felt foolish and angry. He had thought he could take those men with impunity. He should have known better than to underestimate his father.I will keep nagging your father over this. In time I’m sure he will give in.
“Bless you, Mother,” said Jay. She was still working hard in his interests even though he was so far away he might never see her again.
Having dealt with important matters she went on to write about herself, relatives and friends, and London social life. Then at the end she returned to business.Robert has now gone to Barbados. I’m not sure why. My instincts tell me he is plotting against you. I can’t imagine how he could do you harm but he is resourceful and ruthless. Be always on your guard, my son.
Your loving mother,
Alicia Jamisson
Jay put the letter down thoughtfully. He had the deepest respect for his mother’s intuition but all the same he thought she was being overly fearful. Barbados was a long way away. And even if Robert came to Virginia, there was nothing he could do to harm Jay now—was there?
31
IN THE OLD NURSERY WING, MACK FOUND A MAP.
He had redecorated two of the three rooms and he was clearing out the schoolroom. It was the end of the afternoon and he would start work properly tomorrow. There was a chest full of moldy books and empty ink bottles, and he sorted through the contents, wondering what was worth saving. The map was there, folded carefully in a leather case. He opened it up and studied it.
It was a map of Virginia.
At first he wanted to jump for joy, but his elation faded as he realized he could not make head or tail of it.
The names puzzled him until he understood they were in a foreign language—he guessed French. Virginia was spelled “Virginie,” the territory to the northeast was labeled “Partie de New Jersey,” and everything west of the mountains was called Louisiane, although that part of the map was otherwise blank.