“Ten weeks.”
“What will you call it?”
“My husband has decided on Jonathan for a boy, Alicia for a girl.”
The baby kicked again. “That’s hard!” Mack said, laughing. “I’m not surprised you wince.” He took his hand away.
She wished he had left it there a little longer. To hide her feelings she changed the subject. “I’d better talk to Bill Sowerby about this party.”
“You haven’t heard?”
“What?”
“Ah. Bill Sowerby has left.”
“Left? What do you mean?”
“He disappeared.”
“When?”
“Two nights ago.”
Lizzie realized she had not seen Sowerby for a couple of days. She had not been alarmed because she did not necessarily see him every day. “Did he say when he was coming back?”
“I don’t know that he talked to anyone, directly. But I’d say he isn’t coming back at all.”
“Why?”
“He owes money to Sidney Lennox, a lot of money, and he can’t pay.”
Lizzie felt indignant. “And I suppose Lennox has been acting as overseer ever since.”
“It’s only been one working day … but yes, he has.”
“I don’t want that brute taking over the plantation!” she said hotly.
“Amen to that,” Mack said with feeling. “None of the hands want it either.”
Lizzie frowned suspiciously. Sowerby was owed a lot in wages. Jay had told him he would be paid when the first tobacco crop was sold. Why had he not simply waited? He could have paid his debts eventually. He must have been frightened. Lennox had threatened him, she felt sure. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. “I believe Lennox has forced Sowerby out,” she said.
Mack nodded. “I don’t know much about it but that’s my guess too. I’ve done battle with Lennox, and look what happened to me.”
There was no self-pity in his tone, just a bitter practicality, but her heart went out to him. She touched his arm and said: “You should be proud. You’re brave and honorable.”
“And Lennox is corrupt and savage, and what happens? He’ll become overseer here, then he’ll steal enough from you, one way and another, to open a tavern in Fredericksburg; and soon he’ll be living much as he did in London.”
“Not if I can help it,” Lizzie said determinedly “I’m going to speak to him right away.” Lennox had a small two-room house down by the tobacco sheds, near Sowerby’s house. “I hope he’s at home.”
“He’s not there now. At this time on a Sunday he’ll be at the Ferry House—that’s an ordinary three or four miles upriver from here. He’ll stay there until late tonight”
Lizzie could not wait until tomorrow: she had no patience when there was something like this on her mind. “I’ll go to the Ferry House. I can’t ride—I’ll take the pony trap.”
Mack frowned. “Wouldn’t it be better to have it out with him here, where you’re the mistress of the house? He’s a rough man.”
Lizzie felt a pang of fear. Mack was right. Lennox was dangerous. But she could not bear to postpone the confrontation. Mack could protect her. “Will you come with me?” she said. “I’d feel safe if you were there.”
“Of course.”
“You can drive the trap.”
“You’ll have to teach me.”
“There’s nothing to it.”
They walked up from the river to the house. The stable boy, Jimmy, was watering the horses. Mack and he got the trap out and put a pony in the traces while Lizzie went into the house to put on a hat.
They drove out of the estate onto the riverside road and followed it upstream to the ferry crossing. The Ferry House was a wood-frame building not much bigger than the two-room houses lived in by Sowerby and Lennox. Lizzie let Mack help her down from the trap and hold open the door of the tavern for her.
It was gloomy and smoky inside. Ten or twelve people sat on benches and wooden chairs drinking from tankards and pottery cups. Some were playing cards and dice, others smoking pipes. The click of billiard balls came from the back room.
There were no women and no blacks.
Mack followed her in but stood back, by the door, his face in shadow.
A man came through a doorway from the back room, wiping his hands on a towel, and said: “What can I bring you, sir—Oh! A lady!”
“Nothing, thank you,” Lizzie said in a clear voice, and the room went quiet.
She looked around at the upturned faces. Lennox was in the corner, bent over a shaker and a pair of dice. The little table in front of him had several piles of small coins. His face showed resentment at being interrupted.
He carefully scooped up his coins, taking his time, before he stood up and took off his hat. “What are you doing here, Mrs. Jamisson?”
“I didn’t come to play dice, obviously,” she said crisply. “Where is Mr. Sowerby?”
She heard one or two approving murmurs, as if others in the place would like to know what had happened to Sowerby; and she saw a gray-haired man turn in his chair and look at her.
“He’s run off, it seems,” Lennox answered.
“Why haven’t you reported this to me?”
Lennox shrugged. “Because there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I want to know about such things, all the same. Don’t do it again. Is that clear?”
Lennox made no reply.
“Why did Sowerby leave?”
“How should I know?”
The gray-haired man piped up: “He owed money.”
Lizzie turned to him. “Who to?”
The man jerked a thumb. “Lennox, that’s who.”
She turned back to Lennox. “Is this true?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why did he borrow money from you?”
“He didn’t, exactìy. He lost it to me.”
“Gambling.”
“Yes.”
“And did you threaten him?”
The gray-haired man gave a sarcastic laugh. “Did he? I’ll swear.”
“I asked for my money,” Lennox said coolly.
“And that drove him away.”
“I tell you I don’t know why he left.”
“I believe he was frightened of you.”
A nasty smile crossed Lennox’s face. “Many people are,” he said, and the threat in his voice was hardly veiled.
Lizzie felt scared as well as angry. “Let’s get something clear,” she said. There was a tremor in her voice and she swallowed to get it under control. “I am the mistress of the plantation and you will do what I say. I shall now take charge of the place until my husband returns. Then he will decide how to replace Mr. Sowerby.”
Lennox shook his head. “Oh, no,” he said. “I’m Sowerby’s deputy. Mr. Jamisson has told me quite particularly that I’m in charge if Sowerby should fall ill or anything. Besides, what do you know about tobacco growing?”
“As much as a London tavern keeper, at least.”
“Well, that’s not how Mr. Jamisson sees it, and I take my orders from him.”
Lizzie could have screamed with frustration. She would not let this man give orders on her plantation! “I’m warning you, Lennox, you’d better obey me!”
“And if I don’t?” He took a step toward her, grinning, and she smelled his characteristic ripe odor. She was forced to step backward. The other customers in the tavern sat frozen to their seats. “What will you do, Mrs. Jamisson?” he said, still coming toward her. “Knock me down?” As he said this he lifted his hand over his head, in a gesture that might have been an illustration of what he was saying but could just as easily have been a threat.
Lizzie gave a cry of fear and jumped back. Her legs came up against the seat of a chair and she sat down with a bump.
Suddenly Mack was there, standing between Lennox and her. “You’ve raised your hand to a woman, Lennox,” he said. “Now let’s see you raise it to a man.”
“You!” Lennox said. “I didn’t know it was you, standing in the corner like a nigger.”