For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 (21 page)

Perhaps his parents were right. He had become too besotted with Lauren. If so, he wasn’t sure how to break the spell she had cast over him. Everything about her was so pure and innocent. It was refreshing to have a candid conversation with a woman who wasn’t pining for his inheritance but who believed in him as a person. Lauren had a way of making him feel like a man, but not just any man—a man who had the ability to honor God. Yet here he planned to hold her letter longer than he should. How was that honorable? Guilt coiled in his gut and settled on his stomach like a lead ball.

As they finished their first cup of tea, his parents appeared. Rob greeted them both in English for his father’s benefit.

“We have some news.” His mother announced, glancing over at Lauren and curling her mouth in distaste. “We have decided to take a brief holiday and visit your sister in New York. We just received the invitation this afternoon.”

“What about all the work that needs to be done here on the plantation?” Rob asked. “Should I stay behind to see that things are handled properly?” He lifted an eyebrow at his father. The interest of the family plantation always came first, and he had no desire to go on holiday with them. It would only serve as a means to wear down his defenses in giving them their way, which meant living his life to please them, not himself.

“Mr. Fairbanks has everything under control. ’Tis why we hired him.” His father waved his concern away with an agitated expression.

Rob didn’t trust Mr. Fairbanks, but they already knew that. Repeating the same conversation over wouldn’t do any good. He shook his head. “I think it is a great idea for the two of you.” He pointed to himself. “As for me, I shall stay here and finish what I started. I have been going out to view the fields each day as you wanted. I have started reviewing the books with Fairbanks.”

“I am pleased to hear it, but there are some new developments that we think you ought to know.” His Father glanced at Lauren and inclined his head. “Miss Campbell, will you please excuse us? We have some family matters to discuss.”

“Of course.” Lauren nodded and started to stand, but Rob leaned forward and covered her hand with his.

“
Non, restes
.” He shook his head at her and then turned back to his father. “Can we not have this discussion later?”

Lauren looked down at his hand still covering hers but remained silent. Her discomfort was visible in her expression, and it angered Rob even more. He disliked the way they treated her, especially since he much preferred her company to theirs. It wasn’t fair to drag her into their family battles, but he refused to allow his father to dismiss her as if she didn’t matter. He looked forward to spending time with her, and they wouldn’t get away with ruining his afternoon again. All week he and Lauren had endured one interruption after another. They would do anything to keep him away from her.

“Can this not wait until later?” He looked up at his father, keeping his tone calm.

“Rob, how could you?” His mother exclaimed, tears filling her eyes. Rob frowned, not understanding her strange behavior.

“No, it cannot wait!” His father growled through clenched teeth. Anger shaded his face in a darker hue as the muscles in his neck and forehead strained. “We must leave immediately. If you must know in front of this girl, your sister is in poor health and has been confined to her bed for two months. We may lose both her and our grandchild.”

His mother burst into tears and hurried inside the house. It was rare for her to cry. He knew she had been waiting for a letter from his sister, and it wasn’t like her not to write. Fear twisted inside his chest like a funnel. What if they weren’t using this ploy to manipulate him? What if his sister truly was in danger with her first child?

“Why did you not tell me? You made it sound like a little holiday for fun and relaxation.” The words tumbled from him. “I wondered why she neglected responding to my last letter.” Rob pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead as sudden pain shot through his temples.

“We only received the news a few moments ago. Her husband sent word.” His father pointed at Lauren. “But you have been so enamored with this chit that you cannot be concerned with naught else.”

“That is unfair.” Rob stood and pressed his knuckles on the table as he stared at his father. “She has done naught to deserve your contempt.”

“Her presence here is tearing this family apart. You have no interest in the family business because you spend all your time with her.” He pointed again at Lauren, who now looked frightened. His father tilted his head and regarded Rob with a different expression, linking his hands and pressing two steepled fingers against his lips. “You know, I am beginning to think your mother is right. You are so infatuated with this girl you have lost all ability to be sensible.”

“Lauren makes me sensible. She has an understanding of the Bible I have never received in church. She has a way of making me think deeper. What is wrong with that?”

“What nonsense!” His father slashed his hand in the air. “You can follow the Lord without making it your profession. Do not start with me about the clergy. I do not want to hear it.” He pointed at Lauren. “And if she keeps filling your head with religion, she must go.”

“Are you listening to yourself? I wanted to go into the clergy long before Lauren came here. Blaming her will not change things. And she is not tearing this family apart. The damage was already done long before she arrived.” Rob sat down and took a deep breath. “If I go to New York with you, ’twill not be because you demand it, but because I care about my sister, and I want to be there in her time of need.”

“I suggest you get packed. We will be leaving before the end of the day.” His father turned and stomped away.

Rob poured himself another cup of tea and took a long swallow. “I am sorry you had to hear that. I daresay, even if you had left, you would have still heard our heated discussion, as the rest of the servants no doubt did.” He set his cup down and, as he looked into her eyes, regret lingered in them. “None of this is your fault. My father and I have been at odds since I was twelve when I witnessed my first slave whipping. Something inside me snapped, and I have not been the same since. I lost a great deal of respect for my father that day.”

“I am sorry about your sister. I shall pray for her and the babe while you are gone.” Lauren stared at the table, either unwilling or unable to meet his gaze.

“Thank you. I would be most appreciative.” He touched her arm. “And, Lauren, do not worry about them sending you away and selling your indenture. You belong here until you are free again.”

Chapter 12

12

L
auren dipped the thick cloth into the soapy bucket and scrubbed the brick floor in the kitchen. Her bruised knees ached from the hard floor, and her shoulder and neck muscles burned. Ever since the Mallard family departed three days ago, her tasks had become harder. She wouldn’t complain since she was too thankful to be out of the fields.

As she shoved the cloth across the floor, it made a swishing sound that soothed her. A cooking fire danced in the large fireplace where black iron pots hung over the flames. A slave cut vegetables while another cut pork. Before coming here, Lauren knew very little about cooking since servants had always prepared their meals at Kilchurn Manor. All she had to do was plan the meals and turn them over to the cook.

Booted footsteps walked across the floor and stopped in front of her. Lauren paused as she gazed up the black breeches to the unbuttoned vest over a dirty, rumpled white shirt. Mr. Fairbanks scowled at her with narrowed dark eyes and an evil grin that made her shiver.

“Stand up.” He crossed his arms as he waited for Lauren to crawl to her feet. “You are leaving.”

“Leaving? To where?” Lauren tried not to panic as an unnatural fear tempted her. She glanced over at the two slaves she had been working with, but they looked just as surprised and confused as she.

“My boss, the senior Robert Mallard, ordered me to wait three days after they left to ensure his son would not change his mind and try to come back. My job is to get rid of you. He did not say how, but I know exactly what to do.”

“ ’Tis all a big mistake,” Lauren said. “I do not have that much influence over Rob.”

“No matter. You have to go . . . now.” He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out. Lauren tried to scramble to her feet and keep up. Outside, he had a horse waiting. He slammed her over the saddle, knocking the breath out of her. She tried to regain her wits, while Fairbanks mounted behind her. He spurred the horse into a gallop as the animal bounced into her ribs, making her nausea worse.

Fairbanks kept a firm hand on her back while he guided the reins with the other. Lauren coughed as the horse kicked up dust and sand in her face. Grit flew into her eyes, stinging and blurring her vision. She wept and blinked until her eyes were free of the offending dirt. It didn’t stop her from breathing in the dust. She sputtered as her lungs squeezed and contracted.

They left the secluded roads of the country and arrived in Charles Towne. Lauren struggled to stay conscious as the blood pooled in her head from being upside down so long. She hoped someone would stop Fairbanks and question why he swept a woman upon his horse in such a manner, but people only laughed and pointed. Lauren had seen other men hauling women over their shoulders, but she had assumed they were women of ill repute. Could they be assuming the same about her?

“Lord, please help me.” The whispered prayer came out in a rush of air.

They turned a corner and left the dirt road for a cobbled street. Some walked, while others rode wagons or carriages and hired coaches.

“Help me!” Lauren tried to scream, but no one heard her over the scattered conversations, the clip-clopping of horses, and the rolling wheels of carts and carriages. As they grew closer to the sea, Lauren could smell the heat mixed with the sea air and fish, sweating body odor, and tainted whiskey. She gagged.

Women with low-cut dresses, lots of perfume, and powdered faces walked the sidewalks and called to men as they passed. Lauren struggled, not caring if she fell in the path of trampling horses.

“Sit still or it will not go well for you.” Fairbanks popped her in the back of her head.

“Help me!” No one heard her over the laughter at a nearby house. Fairbanks slammed a fist into her back, crushing the breath from her.

“I told you to shut up.” He leaned forward.

He pulled behind a house into an alley. The horse came to a stop. Fairbanks dismounted, grabbed the back of her dress, and jerked her down. Lauren fell to the ground, coughing to catch her breath. Her legs trembled, and she couldn’t stand. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

A woman came out the back door of what looked like a pink building. Two large men with muscled arms followed her and stood on each side. They crossed their arms and stared. Their eyes were focused and intent, assessing her. Each one possessed a square jaw with tight lips. Their height varied by a couple of inches. She wondered if they were brothers.

“Is that her?” the woman asked, pointing at Lauren. She wore an expensive gown in a dark pink color that looked to be made of satin and lace. White powder covered her face and neck down to her exposed cleavage. A white powdered wig crowned her head, and red rouge covered her cheeks.

“Aye, this is her. The girl’s looks are lacking, but I daresay, she shall clean up well. I promise.” Fairbanks stepped over Lauren. “She is a little resistant.”

“She had better clean up well. This is an investment for me, naught else.” The woman gestured to both men with her thumbs. “My men will take care of any resistance. We have not had a girl come through yet that we could not tame.”

“Where is my money?” Fairbanks held out his hand. “I believe we had a deal.”

“Indeed.” The woman snapped her fingers, and one of the men tossed a small bag of coins at him. Fairbanks caught it with a grin. “I appreciate it. Nice doing business with you.”

Fairbanks stepped around Lauren as she struggled to her bruised knees. Once Fairbanks disappeared on his horse, Lauren stood to her feet and met the woman’s gaze. “My name is Lauren Campbell.”

“Not anymore.” The woman pressed her hands on her hips and gave her a mischievous smile as she sniffed. “What were you? A kitchen maid? Smells like . . . cinnamon. From now on that is what we shall call you. Refer to me as Adelle.”

Malcolm arrived home from work to see a carriage parked in front of his house. Fearing something had happened to his mother, he hurried up the front steps and across the porch. Malcolm threw open the door.

“Mither! What is wrong?” He stopped short at the sight of Deidra and Kathleen sitting in their small parlor. Kathleen broke the seal and unfolded a letter.

“Malcolm, I am so glad ye’re home, lad.” His mother smiled from the chair where she perched on the edge. “Mr. Benjamin Shore has already responded. Is that not delightful?”

“Indeed. An’ what does the good gentleman say?” Malcolm looked from his mother to the other two women.

“We do not know yet,” Deidra said. “We only sat down to read it. Will ye not join us, Malcolm?”

“Aye, but I shall stand since I am still dirty from work.” He held out a hand indicating that they should proceed. “Please, continue. Mither an’ I are most anxious to learn the news of what happened to Carleen.”

Kathleen held up the letter and cleared her throat. “Dear Mrs. MacGregor. I did indeed purchase the indenture of a young lady by the name of Carleen MacGregor from
The
Loyal Adventure
as soon as it arrived. I made the purchase along with eight other individuals and delivered them into North Carolina to various families. I sold Miss MacGregor’s indenture to a Mr. Oliver Bates in Wilmington. I am sorry I do not have more information as to your daughter’s health and well-being, but I can assure you that she was in decent health when I last saw her.”

Silence filled the room when she finished reading. Malcolm stroked his chin in thought. Carleen was hundreds of miles away from them. He would have to prevail upon Kathleen in writing a letter to Mr. Oliver Bates.

One decision he had made since arriving in the colonies: he intended to learn how to read and write as soon as he could find the time and opportunity. He wondered how long it would take before he received a letter from Uncle Ferguson or Thomas. Malcolm hoped Graham was healing and still safe from the Campbells.

“Although I am pleased to know she is well, I had hoped to see Carleen soon.” His mother broke the silence. The sadness in her tone was unmistakable—at least to him. “I hope she is among kind-hearted people an’ they treat her well.”

“What will ye do now?” Deidra asked, looking at Malcolm.

“I suppose we shall try and track down Mr. Oliver Bates.” Malcolm took a deep breath. “We need more information. How large is Wilmington an’ where is it? My logger friends assure me although North an’ South Carolina are twice the size of Scotland, most of the area is a vast wilderness.”

After taking tea, Kathleen and Deidra departed. Malcolm went to clean up from all the wood dust on him. That night he didn’t get much sleep as he continued to think about Carleen and Lauren. He couldn’t wait until next Sunday so he could see her again.

Out of desperation, Malcolm took on another knuckle-buster fight on Friday night. Once again, the event turned out to be quite profitable. Saturday he spent the day logging and nursed his wounds that evening, most of which were minor. He had a bruised jaw and a black left eye. His mother was most displeased.

On Sunday, they arrived at church. The Mallard family was not present, but their servants arrived as usual with the exception of Lauren. Unease entered his soul. Malcolm hated the unrest inside him. He needed to know something. Why wasn’t she with them?

He approached one of the servants after church in the churchyard. “Excuse me,” he said to a young lass, “do ye know when the Mallards might return?”

“No, sir.” She shook her head as she glanced up at him. “All we know is that they have gone away to New York.”

“What about their servant, Lauren Campbell? Do ye know if she went with them?” Malcolm held his breath, hoping for some news.

“I do not know. She was removed from the fields an’ stationed at the main house.”

“I see.” Malcolm nodded in disappointment. “Thank ye.”

He took his mother home, but he wasn’t good company as he brooded in restless thoughts. Malcolm couldn’t rest until he knew what happened to Lauren. While his mother cooked, he departed for the country to Mallard Plantation. It would do no good to barge in and demand to speak with Lauren. Mr. Fairbanks would never allow it.

He hid in the woods by the well, hoping Lauren would appear. She didn’t. Instead, a slave came for a bucket of water, but Malcolm was hesitant to approach her. He needed to be careful not to cause anyone to be reprimanded or get caught himself.

The heat soon had him sweating and swatting at flies. He kept a constant lookout for snakes and mopped his brow several times. Frustration added to his agony as one hour turned into two, then three. By late afternoon, Malcolm was convinced Lauren had either been assigned to another task besides the kitchen or something else had happened.

Malcolm left and stopped by Logan and Deidra’s house before going home. He shared his concern since they attended First Presbyterian Church down the street from Independent. They wouldn’t have known that Lauren had gone missing.

“Deidra, I was hoping ye could visit some of the vendors tomorrow and find out if any of them will be making any deliveries this week to the Mallard Plantation and offer my services to make the delivery for free for them. That way I can sneak past Mr. Fairbanks since he knows who I am. ’Twill afford me the opportunity to question the kitchen staff without seeming out of place.”

“Forgive me, my friend, but that black eye will be sure to give ye away,” Logan said. “I shall go in yer place. That way ye will not have to risk Mr. Fairbanks recognizing ye or wait ’til that eye of yers heals.”

“Are ye sure, Logan?” Hope leaped in Malcolm’s chest. He leaned forward.

“Aye,” Logan nodded, “if ye trust me.”

“I do, indeed.” Malcolm held out his hand, and they shook in agreement.

“And I shall be more than delighted to inquire ’bout delivery services. We are verra concerned as to what happened to her as well. Ye can count on us, Malcolm.”

“We shall find Lauren, and no matter what has happened, we will bring her home where she belongs,” he said, determined to make his words true.