"Well, of course not," Melissa cried. "They'd never make you go, but don't you want to live your own life?"
"I already do."
Melissa was delighted by how easily she had distracted Alanna from her appalling innuendos, but failed to recognize that her inquiries were equally unsettling to her cousin. "Here are the new ribbons. I bought pink and yellow for me, and lavender and blue for you."
Alanna reached out to take the satin streamers. "Thank you. It was kind of you to think of me."
"Nonsense. You should have come into town with us."
"Perhaps next time."
"Yes, do." Grateful to have extricated herself from an embarrassing confrontation, Melissa breathed a sigh of relief as she turned away. Alanna's fear of Indians was certainly understandable, but she did not share it. In her view, Hunter was a fascinating man, and she immediately began to plot another opportunity for them to be alone together.
* * *
Hunter spent the afternoon with Elliott preparing for the upcoming trip, but thoughts of Melissa's supple grace were never far from his mind. From what he could tell, the Barclays lived a good life on their plantation, and without too much difficulty he could picture himself becoming part of it between forays into the wilderness. John Barclay was one of the organizers of the Ohio Company, the group sponsoring the exploration of the Ohio Valley. Hunter thought he might be able to exploit that tie as a reason for frequent visits, without any mention of the man's beautiful daughter.
Then again, he had not seen enough of his friends' father to know whether or not John Barclay would be easy to fool. Hoping to remedy that situation, he began to ask discreet questions. "Don't most of the plantations have slaves?"
"Yes, they do."
"Then why haven't I seen any here?"
Elliott frowned slightly as he struggled to provide a coherent answer. "Our grandfather owned quite a few," he admitted, "but when he died, Father set them all free. That's a decision he's never discussed with us, but whenever he's questioned about it, I've heard him mention that in the beginning the plantation was worked by indentured servants from England. He claims to prefer to surround himself with the same hardworking class of men. We no longer have bondsmen, but we pay good wages, and have loyal workers as a result."
Hunter sincerely believed he could be described as hardworking, and made a mental note to see that his value to the militia was mentioned frequently in whatever letters Byron and Elliott sent home. Because they were already convinced of his ability as a scout, he thought he could inspire them to praise his talents in their letters. He would never be one of John Barclay's men, however, because his first loyalty would always be to the Seneca.
"Do you consider Jacob loyal?" the Indian inquired.
"Our blacksmith? Yes, he's been with us for years and years. His wife is our cook and their daughters help her in the kitchen. Their son works with the cooper. We have several whole families working for us. The cooper's wife is the laundress, as an example. The household staff all belong to one family. Only the field hands are single men."
Hunter nodded thoughtfully, for it was becoming increasingly easy to imagine himself spending a great deal of time at the Barclay plantation. A young woman as affectionate as Melissa would prompt lengthy stays, but he knew she was far too pampered a lady to find happiness visiting a Seneca village. No, if they were to fall in love, then he would have to become part of her world, as she would never be comfortable in his.
While that was a daunting thought, he liked the company of white men, and did not think living amongst them would create any great hardship for him. Besides, he could return home as often as he chose. To continue to come and go as he pleased was precisely how he intended to live his life, and he was certain he could keep Melissa too content to complain about his habits.
"Does Ian Scott intend to marry your sister?" he asked suddenly.
Because that question bore no relation to the subject Elliott had believed was under discussion, he was understandably perplexed, but recovered quickly. "He might. I really can't say. Melissa has always been popular and I don't believe she is any more fond of Ian than she is of her other beaus."
"There are other men interested in her?"
"Of course," Elliott insisted with a hearty chuckle. "Young women as pretty as Melissa are always eagerly sought after."
Not wanting Elliott to discover he had a serious interest in Melissa just yet, Hunter deliberately pretended his curiosity about the comely blonde had been satisfied. "What about Alanna? Is she too shy to have beaus?"
"I spend a great deal of my time worrying about her," Elliott confided unhappily. "She's so dear to us, but perhaps we've sheltered her more than we should. When she first came to us, she was so easily frightened, that I'm afraid we spoiled her terribly. She isn't demanding now, of course, but still, if we'd done more to encourage her to be as independent as Melissa, she might not be as shy as she is today."
Hunter cleverly turned their discussion to the subject of the Ohio Valley, but he remained preoccupied with how best to impress Melissa so that she would be anxiously awaiting his return. When she displayed an annoying indifference to him at supper, he was not only dismayed, but disgusted. He could readily understand her reluctance to openly display her feelings for him, but thought ignoring him completely was a poor way to behave. He held that sorry opinion until
they left the dining room to go across the hall into the parlor, and she brushed by him to slip a tightly folded message into his hand.
Believing it to be a fervent plea for a meeting later, Hunter's spirits soared. Then he had to bear an agonizing wait as Rachel and Melissa treated them all to another harpsichord recital. It wasn't until everyone retired to bed that he finally had a chance to read the note. He was ashamed not to have thought of a way to get a similar message to Melissa, but as soon as the house was quiet, he went down to the dock where she had suggested they meet.
By the time she finally appeared, Hunter was thoroughly sick of waiting for her. "Did you think I would stand here all night?" he scolded, but when he drew her into his arms and discovered she was wearing only a light shawl over a cotton nightgown, his anger dissolved in the heat of desire.
Melissa reached up on her tiptoes to kiss away his frown. "I'm sorry. It took forever for Alanna to fall asleep and usually she's asleep before I've finished brushing out my hair."
"Would she tell your parents if she discovered you'd left the house to meet me?"