Riverbreeze: Part 1 (3 page)

“Virginia is our destiny, Jamie. And I think
Mama and Papa would have approved. I know Papa wanted me to be a
physician and you an apothecary but only because we weren’t to
inherit, but now we can build an estate of our own, without Wesley
ever hurting us again. We’ll be free, Jamie, we’ll be free.”

PART I
Interlude

He was furious! He was
boiling mad! They had disappeared and he couldn’t find them
anywhere.

He was stormed into the
manor house, yelling at the top of his lungs. Flushed with anger,
he strode determinedly to each room, flinging open each door,
shouting and looking for them. They were nowhere to be
found.

He tore through their
attic room, tossing bedclothes and pillows over his shoulder. He
stomped through the musty unfinished room, kicking the rickety old
bed frame and the one stool that landed with a crack. His breathing
sounded harsh in the stark silence.

Then he saw it. He stopped
short. The floorboard in the corner was out of place, lifted away
and left behind. He peered into the black hole, stuck his hand in
there and felt all around. Empty. Empty! He roared his outrage when
he realized what those little bastards had done.

Mrs. Biddle suddenly
appeared behind him; he nearly ran into her as he turned around.
She was carrying a tray with a glass of port wine.

“Your evening port, sir.”
She said formally.

His face twisted in rage.
“Where are they? Where are they?” He roared.

“I do not know, my lord.”
She said calmly.

He grabbed the glass and
downed the wine in one gulp, staring at her with his ice cold blue
eyes. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You know damn well where
they are!” He yelled, throwing the glass against the
wall.

Mrs. Biddle jumped at the
crash, but her expression never changed.

“Tell me! Damn you! Tell
me!” He ordered, his fists clenched tight at his side.

Mrs. Biddle remained
unmoved. “I will be leaving your service today, Master Bassett. I
will be going to live with my brother’s daughter and her
family.”

“You old witch! You’re
leaving because they’re gone! Go! Get out of my way!” And he shoved
her aside as he walked past her. He didn’t even stop when he heard
her fall to the floor with a small cry.

He hastened down the
stairs and strode to his chamber. Seeing that hole in the floor
reminded him of all the times he had discovered pieces of jewelry
missing and how he had blamed his paramours. He immediately went to
the dresser with the secret drawer. Nobody knew about this drawer
or how to open it. Only him. Or so he thought.

He opened it, fully
expecting to see it, the one piece he worshipped, the one piece he
gloated over. It was gone! He felt like he had been shot! The
drawer was empty! He yanked it out of the chest and threw it across
the room. He let out a roar that echoed throughout the
house.

Then he caught sight of
Mrs. Biddle passing by the door. He ran to the open doorway and
stopped. Chest heaving, face flushed, he pointed his finger at her.
“I’ll find them one day.” He growled. “Mark my words; I’ll find
them.”

Chapter One: Destiny Realized
October 30, 1643 Riverbreeze Plantation, Charles City Shire, Colony
of Virginia

Robbie’s plan was a success. He and Jamie
were able to escape from their brutish brother that warm July day
in 1634 and then sail to a new, unknown land and a new, unknown
life.

Call it bravery, call it desperation, but
Robbie had been right. Virginia was their destiny. How had he
known? How had he even had the confidence to believe that Mr.
Tyler’s agent would buy them? They had only been children, and two
sickly ones at that; not the healthy grown men Mr. Tyler had needed
to work on his plantation. They had surely been the two most
pitiful creatures to ever beg to sell themselves.

But it had not been confidence that Robbie
had possessed that day. It had been desperation born of a hopeless
situation, and a childish dream that once they were away from
Wesley, nothing bad could befall them ever again. And sheer will
that had kept him on his feet, quietly pleading for the chance for
both of them to prove themselves.

Always the obedient one, Robbie never
believed that he would suffer at Wesley’s hands. As much as he
didn’t like it, he believed that Jamie would be the only one to
feel the sting of the whip, to feel the humiliation of being beaten
and the pain that came with that. But he was wrong. Robbie had
gotten it bad the next day, the day after Jamie’s brutal whipping,
but despite being grievously sick, the morning of the fair he
dragged himself out of bed, forced Jamie up too, packed their few
belongings and hitched a ride with the neighbors. He swore he
wouldn’t stay at Brentwood Manor another minute.

When Mr. Tyler’s agent had first seen them,
it had truly been a wonder that he hadn’t laughed in their faces
and shooed them away like the pesky children that they were. But
William Clayton was not a stupid man. He knew his business well,
and he knew the requirements and desires of his employer. It was
his job and responsibility to search out the best possible men and
women to work on his employer’s plantation. He had specific
instructions to avoid signing on the poor and destitute of the
local towns, and most important of all to never bring a criminal to
Mr. Tyler’s plantation. So he would scout around the large estates,
mostly in the area of Devon and Cornwall because they sailed out of
Bristol, seeking healthy (or as healthy as they could be) but
disgruntled tenant farmers and servants, young men and women who
were accustomed to hard but honest work.

It was during one of these scouting trips in
the early summer of 1634 that he had seen Robbie at work and was
impressed by the strength and stamina of the young lad. William
Clayton had seen the potential of the boy and a boy of his age
would be indented to his master until the age of twenty-one, giving
Francis Tyler nine years of service, rather than the standard term
of five or seven years. And Clayton also knew that Tyler was a man
without sons and this saddened the man considerably. Clayton had a
strong feeling this boy could be a substitute. So when Robbie
approached him at the fair, even though he looked oddly ill and
distressed that day, wearing ragged breeches and threadbare shirt
and accompanied by a younger brother who was equally as ill and
distressed and similarly clothed, Clayton decided to take the risk,
knowing that if he displeased his employer, he would be the one who
would suffer the consequences. The boys, he knew, would be spared
any harshness for Mr. Tyler was a kind and fair master…and a
gentleman.

“What are your names, lads?” Clayton
asked.

The brothers found the agent right outside
the entrance to the fair where Clayton had parked his horse and
cart. It was very early in the morning; they were first in line.
“Robert
ov vy; ottomma ow broder
, James.”
Robbie answered in his native Cornish language for both him and his
brother. He tried to speak in a manly voice, but much to his
embarrassment, it cracked. He wanted to make such an impression on
this man that despite his fear he looked up into Clayton’s rugged
face and didn’t shy away from the agent’s assessing stare.

“Ov vy? Ottomma ow
Broder
?” Clayton repeated, at first confused. But then he
understood. “Oh, you are Robert and this is your brother. Can you
speak English, Robert?” Clayton asked in a kindly voice.

“A little.” He answered truthfully, bowing
his head, although now he was afraid that his lack of English would
disqualify him. He held tight to Jamie’s hand, his heart pounding.
Jamie remained silent as Robbie had instructed him to do.

“You should learn to speak English, son.”
Clayton said. “The king requires it.”

Robbie’s head snapped up when he heard
Clayton say ‘son’. He nodded eagerly, but didn’t say anything. His
heart soared with hope.

“Where are your parents? Your
mamm
and your
tas
?”

Robbie bowed his head again. “Dead, sir.” He
answered quietly.

“Aah.” Clayton said, stroking his beard as he
considered the lad’s answer. “Well, I’ve seen you working at
Brentwood Manor. Do you have any other relations? An older brother,
perhaps, or an uncle or cousin?”

Robbie shook his head vigorously while
squeezing his brother’s hand tight. He must never let it be known
that they were the legal charges of their older brother, the third
Earl of Pennington.

“Come here, lad.” Clayton said.

Robbie took two steps forward, pulling his
brother along. He didn’t know what the agent wanted, but he was too
afraid to refuse for fear of displeasing him.

Clayton seized Robbie’s arm, the one holding
his sack of belongings, and Robbie panicked. He let out a little
noise and pulled back, clutching the sack to his body.

Clayton let out a laugh. “What have you got
there that’s so important?”

“Nothing.” He mumbled in English. He knew
that much. “Clothes.” He added, hoping Clayton would believe
him.

“You’re quite strong! How old are you?”

“Deudhek
.”

“English, Robert. English.” Clayton chided
him.

“Twelve.”

Clayton raised his eyebrows at that. “And
your brother?”

“Dek
.”

“Robert.” Clayton chided him again.

“Ten.”

Clayton let out a sigh. He tried again. “Come
here, lad. I won’t touch your… clothes.”

Robbie shuffled forward, believing the man.
And he desperately wanted to please him.

Clayton carefully wrapped his hand around
Robbie’s bicep, feeling the size of his muscles. Then he took the
lad’s jaw in his hand and lifted his face to inspect it, possibly
for pock marks. Robbie stared right back at him, not shying away
from the inspection, knowing he didn’t have any scars; he had been
mostly healthy all his life. Then Clayton took his thumb and pushed
up Robbie’s upper lip to look at his teeth. Robbie opened his mouth
to show him all his teeth. He had nothing to hide.

Clayton mmmed and hmmed, then turned his
attention to Jamie. “Your brother, broder, looks weak. I’m not sure
I can take both of you…”

“Mar Plek
!
Mar Plek
!” Robbie begged, panicking again.
If the man didn’t take Jamie, he didn’t know what he would do. He
couldn’t abandon his little brother…

Clayton held up his forefinger.

That’s all it took. “Plea…se. Please.” Robbie
pronounced the word very carefully.

“Ah…” Clayton smiled, satisfied. With a
resolute nod of his head, Clayton threw caution to the wind and
decided to sign the two lads on. The brothers appeared to be
orphans, grubby, sad-eyed, hollow; and he had seen Robert working
right beside the other tenant farmers. If they were members of the
grand Bassett family, surely they wouldn’t have begged to be taken
to Virginia.

Clayton brought out two contracts of
indenture and helped the brothers scratch their first names only on
the paper. And then because Robert could only read a little and
Jamie not at all, they were told that in exchange for their passage
to Virginia they would be indented to Mr. Tyler until they reached
the age of twenty-one, that they would have to truthfully and
faithfully serve their master, his heirs and his assignees, that
they would have to keep their master’s secrets, to obediently
observe his commands, not to commit fornication or enter into
marriage with any woman, not to hurt their master nor play cards or
dice or any other unlawful games, or waste the goods of the master
or lend them to anybody without the master’s consent, and to not be
absent from the master’s service day and night, and for this
service they would be provided with sufficient meat, drink and
apparel, washing and lodging. And at the end of the term, they
would be given a piece of land, some tools, a supply of corn and a
new set of clothing. The brothers didn’t understand any of it; they
only knew they had succeeded in escaping from their older brother
and they exulted in their triumph.

As a result of their recent whippings, Robert
and Jamie had been in an appallingly sickly state and Clayton knew
he could not present his employer with two weakened boys. They had
to be healthy and strong enough to begin work immediately upon
arriving in Virginia. Clayton made the quick decision to leave the
fair early that day without signing on any other servants and took
the boys to the port-city of Bristol where he saw to their comfort,
bought them new clothing and ample victuals for the three of them
for the sea voyage. In general he took care of the brothers from
the moment they signed their contracts, protecting them and
nurturing the investments he made on his employer’s behalf.