Chapter 4
Susanna said little during their journey to Briarwood, which seemed to make no difference to Adam.
When he had ascertained by her soft-spoken “No” that she remembered nothing about her place of birth—which was entirely believable since Camille had been only three years old when she was sent away to England—he kept up a steady and interesting commentary about Yorktown and the rest of the colony, until, after a while, she felt her melancholy begin to lift.
The countryside was beautiful, although lacking the lush rolling hills of the Cotswolds, and it felt so good to be on dry land again.
Only at one point did she venture to ask a question, her avid curiosity getting the better of her.
“I heard there are still Indians in Virginia. Do you think we might see any?”
A low chuckle rumbled from his throat. “Not unless you travel far to the west and into the wilderness. The Indians retreated from this region years ago when the white men became too plentiful.” His gaze traveled slowly over her features, lingering overlong upon her lips, then he looked directly into her eyes, his expression sobering.
“Don’t worry, Miss Cary. If any wild savages chance to cross our path, have no fear that I will protect you. ”
Feeling her cheeks grow warm at the strange intensity of his gaze, Susanna was tempted to retort that she wasn’t worried or frightened.
She would have liked to see some Indians, but since that would hardly be something Camille would have said, she directed her attention out the window, becoming increasingly exasperated with herself.
Dear Lord, what was it about this man that so easily pricked her temper?
It didn’t make sense. She had known him for perhaps two hours!
Maybe it was because he seemed so sure of himself, and so completely sure of her.
Or perhaps it was his condescending attitude that most irked her; that, and the tone that crept into his voice sometimes, as if he was speaking to a child instead of a young woman.
Susanna hazarded a glance at him to find that he was still looking at her.
He smiled, his teeth a startling white against his tanned face.
As she quickly turned back to the window, flustered anew, she decided that he must spend a great deal of time out-of-doors to have skin so darkened by the sun.
She imagined his chest and back must be bronzed as well, in keeping with his job as a plantation manager.
She had no doubt that he stripped off his shirt to work as any hired man might in the summer heat.
She could almost picture him…his golden-brown skin glistening with sweat, the muscles across his shoulders and upper back bulging powerfully as he lifted the ax or hoisted a heavy barrel—
Susanna gasped as Adam suddenly leaned against her, his arm grazing her breasts as he pointed out the window, his hard muscled thigh pushing against her leg.
“See those trees?”
“Y-yes.”
“They form the southern boundary of Briarwood. Welcome home, Miss Cary.”
Flushed with embarrassment and not daring to breathe or move, she kept her gaze trained upon the towering oak trees, but she scarcely saw them. Her senses were blinded to everything except the heat of Adam’s body pressed against her and the compelling scent of him, clean yet slightly musky.
She had been so close to a man only once before, a few weeks before leaving Fairford, when a handsome village swain who had taken a fancy to her had cornered her in the Redmayne coach house.
He had kissed her full on the mouth, his passionate ardor nearly dragging the breath from her body until she had stamped upon his foot and he had abruptly released her.
Then she had slapped his face and run away.
But some wild part of herself had wanted to feel his hands roaming over her body and his hard desire pressing through her skirt.
Susanna rolled her eyes, dismayed by her wanton thoughts.
This wasn’t the same thing! Adam was this close to her merely because he was pointing out something of interest to her.
The boundary of Briarwood, for God’s sake!
She could hardly grind her heel into his foot or slap him for that.
His nearness was entirely innocent…or was it?
Oh, when would this carriage ride be over?
Susanna couldn’t relax even when Adam abruptly drew back and settled against the seat once more.
Nor did she look at him; she was worried about how she might react if that same insufferably confident smile was upon his face.
She kept her gaze fixed out the window, and was more than a bit relieved when the coach turned onto a wide, poplar-lined drive.
As a magnificent brick mansion came into view, flanked by outbuildings half-hidden by flowering shrubs and trees, she was swept by nervous excitement, the previous moment’s incident temporarily forgotten.
She could not believe she was finally here.
Briarwood.
It was grander than she would ever have imagined, the formal approach a beautifully landscaped prelude to the ivy-clad, two-story house that lay beyond.
This place was even finer than the Redmayne country estate, which now held a solid second place in her estimation.
Briarwood was truly the loveliest spot on earth.
As the carriage pulled around a large circle edged in boxwood that terminated the drive, Susanna saw the front door open, and a host of black servants hurried down the broad stone steps to a wide walkway, where they formed a well-ordered line.
Several footmen dressed in splendid blue-and-gold livery rushed forward to meet the coach.
It seemed everything was happening so fast, the door opening and Adam climbing down so that he might assist her.
Then she was walking with him toward the servants who, from their warm, expectant smiles, seemed genuinely pleased to see her.
It was an unsettling moment. She, who had done the waiting upon, was now the mistress of a large household, with servants to see to her every need. What was she to say to them? How should she act? Would they somehow sense that she was actually one of them?
“Your house servants,” Adam explained in a low voice, his hand firmly—and impertinently, she decided—upon her elbow as he steered her toward them.
“You probably know from your father that some of them are slaves while others have earned their freedom, and have chosen to remain here as paid help.
The same can be said for the rest of the workers at Briarwood. “
Actually, Susanna had heard of this unusual arrangement from Camille, who had been proud of her father’s lenient and fair-minded attitude toward his slaves.
She, however, didn’t like the idea of anyone owning another human being; it wasn’t right.
Yet when she had expressed her opinion, Camille had said it was simply the way things were done in Virginia.
Briarwood would never have achieved its greatness without the several hundred slaves who toiled in the tobacco fields.
At least they were luckier than most to have James Cary as their owner.
But now you are their owner, Susanna thought, the reality of the situation not sitting well with her.
Yet there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it, except to continue on as James Cary had done, allowing slaves to earn their freedom and then giving them the choice to stay on at the plantation or to set out on their own.
As Adam continued speaking, Susanna noticed that his voice had grown strangely harsh. Why, she couldn’t imagine.
“There are also some indentured servants here from Britain who are primarily craftsmen, but their numbers are few. Your father ceased to buy indentures several years ago, at my urging.” He said no more upon the subject, but began to introduce her to the servants, the first a very stout woman with an enormous bosom.
“This is Prue. She’s the head cook here at Briarwood, and an excellent one, I might add. ”
“Hello,” Susanna said softly, offering a small smile.
“We’re so glad you’re here, Miss Camille,” the woman said with obvious sincerity. “The house has been so empty since your papa…” She couldn’t finish, her large dark eyes misting. “Well, will you look at me? A happy occasion and all.”
Susanna’s heart went out to her. It was clear James Cary had been very well liked, and was still sorely missed.
“I’m happy to be here,” she said rather shyly, attempting her best imitation of Camille. “Thank you for your kind welcome, Prue.”
The woman’s friendly smile returned and she drew herself up, her emotions once again under control. “I’m preparing a nice welcome dinner for you, Miss Camille. Master Cary always liked to dine straight up at three o’clock, but if you’d like to eat a bit earlier or later—”
“Three o’clock will be fine. It is not my intention to change the way my father did things at Briarwood.”
Her answer seemed to please the woman, who beamed broadly. “Good enough, Miss Camille. Good enough.”
Susanna moved quickly along the line as Adam made more introductions, so many that the names of kitchen maids, chambermaids, laundry and dairy maids, the valet, a steward who kept the plantation’s books, and numerous others were soon swimming in her mind.
The last person she came to was an older black woman with short, graying hair beneath her starched cap.
Her deeply lined face was still striking, although she appeared to be perhaps sixty years old or more.
She regarded Susanna with a kind, hopeful expression.
“Do you remember me, Miss Camille? You’ve surely changed since I saw you last. You were just a little one then, no taller than my knees. I wouldn’t have known you except for your pretty hair and eyes. My, you’ve grown into a fine beauty, just like your mama.”