For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 (30 page)

“Thank ye for writing me, Mr. Robert Mallard.” A man’s deep voice carried out into the hallway before Rob’s arrival.

“I did not write you,” his father replied. Rob’s stomach sank, knowing he would now have to deal with his father on top of everything else.

“I wrote to you, Mr. Campbell. I am the one who slipped your daughter’s letter inside mine.” Rob walked in with his hand held out. He forced an open smile as he kept his posture straight and his stride authoritative. Familiar blue eyes turned to gaze at him, much like Lauren’s, but his were cold and calculating. Confusion and distrust lingered in his round face, behind a layered gray beard and mustache.

“Thank ye for the letter. I was disappointed to see that yers was more informative than Lauren’s. I did not know what to make of it.” he said. “As ye know, we have traveled a long way, an’ I am eager to see my daughter.”

“Have a seat and I shall tell you what I can.” Rob gestured around
the room to the couch by the window, the two chairs by the empty hearth, and two wooden chairs on the other side of the room under a framed landscape painting.

With obvious reluctance, Duncan sighed, clenching his jaw. “I am not interested in formalities. I want my daughter . . . and I want her now!” His voice rose to a new level as he paced back and forth in front of Rob like a caged lion.

“My word, what is the meaning of this?” Rob’s father demanded.

One of Duncan’s men grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the wall. Rob’s father clutched his chest as his eyes widened. For a moment, Rob feared he might have a heart attack.

“Tell me what I want to know or he will pay the consequence.” Duncan pointed at Rob’s father.

“Lauren is not here.” Now shaking inside, Rob scratched his neck.

“What do ye mean?” Duncan glared at him, a pulse beating through his temple. “Yer letter indicated she was here. What happened to her?”

“That is what I wanted to tell you.” Rob launched into the story of how she was kidnapped from their plantation while the family was away. The only detail he omitted was his father’s orders to Fairbanks to remove her from the property. He didn’t reveal Fairbanks’s identity, fearing the Scotsman would go after Fairbanks and a murder would be on his conscience. These men looked like fierce warriors, and he had no idea what they were capable of.

“Da, I told ye Malcolm MacGregor would be involved somehow.” Scott Campbell leaned forward, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. “We canna allow him to get away with all he has done to Lauren. He had no right taking her aboard that ship.”

“You might want to wait and hear the rest of the story before passing judgment on Malcolm,” Rob said. “He helped us get Lauren out of that place. Not only that, but he and his mother nursed her back to health for weeks. He paid for her medical care and did everything possible to ensure her full recovery.”

“ ’Tis the least he could do after stealing her from home and sailing her halfway around the world.” Duncan’s temper rose as his face turned darker. “He risked her reputation, put her in harm’s way, and caused her to suffer humiliation. God only knows what else she has been through. Malcolm knows I will come after him. He is no fool.”

Rob thought back to the way Lauren had looked at Malcolm when they rescued her. He, Logan, and Pastor Brad had all been part of the plan, but Malcolm had been the hero in her eyes. “Certain things change people, especially the kind of things Lauren has been through. Have you considered what you will do if Lauren refuses to go back to Scotland?”

“She will return with us to Scotland!” Duncan roared, his voice echoing through the room. “Now where is she?”

“I do not know.” Rob braced himself. “The MacGregors packed up and left town without telling anyone where they went. I suspect they might have gone looking for Carleen MacGregor. Malcolm and Iona were searching for her. Other than that, I have no information.”

Malcolm drove the wagon into a budding community he could only assume was Wilmington. He followed the road up the Cape Fear River. Several brick buildings were of various sizes. Others were in the process of being built. Homes varied in shapes and sizes from painted wood structures to homes of wealth made of brick and layered up to three stories with balconies.

The town was nowhere near as large as Charles Towne, but it was a decent start in the middle of the wilderness. He could feel excitement building in his mother as they took in the sights of the new town. She craned her neck to view each sandy street, no doubt looking for a sign of Carleen.

He couldn’t find an inn as he drove down Front Street, but when he turned down Dock Street, Lauren spotted a three-story brick house with a sign that said Boarders Welcome. The windows were draped in black shutters while the rest of the house was trimmed in white. Even the front door looked as if it had a fresh coat of white paint. Malcolm pulled behind a black carriage and set the brake.

“Wait here while I see if they have any vacant space.” He jumped down. He landed in a layer of powdered sand, which covered his black boots. His quiet footsteps left the soft sand and crunched the pebbled walkway leading up to the shaded porch with three white pillars.

Malcolm used the brass knocker in the shape of a clamshell. It reverberated through the house as he waited for someone to answer. A middle-aged man opened the door. He was round with gray hair and a thick mustache. His lips turned into a friendly smile as his round cheeks widened and his blue eyes lit.

“Welcome,” he said. “My name is Mr. Saunders. What can we do for you?”

“I would like to rent a couple of rooms if ye have any available. We just arrived from Charles Towne.”

“How many do you have with ya?” Mr. Saunders leaned around to see past Malcolm since he was too short to view over his shoulder.

“Just my mither an’ her companion,” Malcolm said, stepping aside so the man could see out to the wagon.

“I see. So you shall be wantin’ a room for them an’ one for yourself?”

“Aye, if ye have it. Give them the best one.” Malcolm gestured his thumb over his shoulder. “I can take whatever ye got.”

“Well, I have a decent-size room on the second floor for the ladies.” He scratched his wrinkled forehead. “But as for you, the best I can do is a small attic room on the third floor. The bed is narrow and the ceiling low for such a big man as yourself, but if you think you can handle the cramped quarters, the space is yours. Come on in an’ we shall discuss the arrangements.”

He swung the door wide and motioned for Malcolm to step into the parlor. They crossed from hardwood floors to a plush rug with an intricate design of dark red and black. They both sat in facing chairs while Mr. Saunders outlined the price of each room and the included meals. Once the details were agreed upon and Malcolm paid the first month’s rent, they stood and shook hands.

“Do ye know a Mr. Oliver Bates?” Malcolm asked.

“Indeed.” Mr. Saunders nodded. “He attends church when the weather is well. He lives out in the country where he runs a small rice plantation. How did you come to hear of him?”

Malcolm told him about Carleen and how they had come to Wilmington to find her.

“Such a sad story about her wrongful indenture, but I can assure ya, she is in good hands with Mr. Oliver Bates. He treats his servants well.”

“That is good to know.” Malcolm walked to the foyer, not wanting to take up too much time from Mr. Saunders. “One last question if ye do not mind.” At his nod of agreement, Malcolm continued, “Where is his plantation located?”

“Half a day’s drive up the inland river, but why not get settled in first? My wife will take care of the ladies.” He gestured down the hall. Malcolm didn’t see anyone, and he wondered if he and his wife ran this place by themselves without any servants. “There is a livery up the street where you will wanna park your wagon an’ make arrangements for your horse.”

“Thank ye.” Malcolm bowed and stepped out onto the gray porch. Lauren and his mother wore eager, hopeful expressions as they watched him approach. At least he had good news to impart. They had a warm and comfortable place to stay for the next few weeks until he could figure out the rest of their plans.

While Mrs. Saunders took Lauren and his mother to their chamber, Malcolm carried in their trunk and his roll of personal belongings. Mr. and Mrs. Saunders prepared a nice warm bath for the women.

Once he secured the horse and wagon at the livery, Malcolm went for a walk to explore the town. He liked Wilmington. The place didn’t have as many bordellos and questionable taverns like Charles Towne. While less formal, there was a small Presbyterian church, a tiny shop, and the
Cape Fear Mercury
, the local newspaper. He found a tavern on Front Street and went inside to see if he could discover some local news.

It looked like a decent place. Seven square wooden tables dotted the room. Malcolm slid into a seat next to a window. The location gave him the perfect opportunity to observe passersby and hear any local gossip in the small tavern. A woman wearing a simple blouse and skirt that covered her modestly came over to his table.

“Sir, what will you be havin’?” She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side. “My husband is the cook. I have never known a dish he could not prepare.”

“I shall wait to eat with my mother and her companion this evening, but I would like a cup of water.”

“Suit yourself. You might wanna bring them here for a good meal this evenin’.” She sauntered off, leaving Malcolm to his thoughts.

Two men sat at a table behind him, deep in a discussion. “I have applied for a patent for a headright land grant. ’Tis fifty free acres. You will not find aught like it in jolly ole England,” said one man.

“I have been wondering ’bout those grants. I heard ’bout them sailin’ here, but I thought it was too good to be true,” said the other.

“True enough. It may not be for indentured servants, but for those who pay their own way an’ intend to settle the area an’ pay annual taxes to the king’s coffers.”

“Here ya go.” The woman returned with a cup of water.

“Thank ye,” Malcolm said, picking up the wooden cup. He drained the contents like a man who had been laboring out in the hot sun. The news about the headright grant rolled around in his mind. He had purchased his own ticket here and still had the paperwork of the sale. Malcolm had no idea why he kept it, but now he was glad he did. If he chose to stay, he could apply for a patent of fifty acres as well.

“Pardon the interruption, but do either of ye know where I could find work?” Malcolm asked as the two men paused to consider his question.

The older one stroked his brown beard. “I heard the shipyard is needing men. They have an order for three new vessels.”

“Where is it?” Malcolm lifted an eyebrow, intrigued by the idea of doing something different.

“Between Church and Castle Streets,” the younger man answered. “You will want to speak to Mr. Pryer.”

“Thank ye.” Malcolm committed to memory what he had heard. Was it possible all he had heard about the colonies was true? A simple man like himself could be given free land without being born to it? And an opportunity to make his own way?

Thankful for a warm bath and her hair washed, Lauren felt as if she could purr like a contented cat. Now she and Iona were dressed in clean clothes and ready for dinner. She looked forward to seeing Malcolm again.

They arrived downstairs promptly at seven as told. The elegant dining room had dark paneled walls on the lower half and painted walls of solid maroon on the upper half. A brass chandelier hung over the oblong dining table made of cherry. Over the fireplace mantel hung a large painting of a basket of fruit encased in a golden frame. The image made Lauren’s mouth water and her stomach growl in hunger.

Upon their entrance, Mr. Saunders and another man stood with a bow. Iona and Lauren curtsied and slid into their seats. Mrs. Saunders sat at the end of the table across from her husband.

Malcolm’s seat remained empty across from Iona. Lauren thought she heard him return above their room, but now she wondered if she was mistaken.