The seriousness of Hunter's expression conveyed his conviction, and Byron understood the Indian was speaking about conflicts which would be an almost certain eventuality. It was not simply a matter of pride either, for there were men who equated Indian scouts with hunting dogs, and he was no more tolerant of such blatant prejudice than Hunter. "I heard that you put Vernon Avey in his place without having to strike a single blow. I think you'll be able to handle similar problems without bloodshed."
"And if I'm not?"
With that question, Byron had been pushed too far. "What do you expect from me, permission to kill whomever you dislike?"
"No, merely permission to defend myself."
"Every man has that right."
"Even an Indian?"
"Yes!"
Satisfied for the moment, Hunter nodded before turning away, but he intended to pursue their discussion until Byron agreed that taking a white bride was also among an Indian's rights.
Byron waited until he could not be overheard to speak to his brother. "Have we made a mistake?" he asked. "After all, what do we really know about Hunter?"
Elliott was understandably confused by Byron's apparent change of heart. "If you had reservations about his character, we shouldn't have taken him home with us. But except for the fact he didn't bother to excuse himself before leaving the farewell party, he was the perfect guest."
The thought of Hunter dancing with the delightfully demure Frederick sisters was so amusing, Byron could not help but smile. "That was probably our fault. He was undoubtedly too embarrassed to admit he didn't know any of our dances."
"Even if he had, would the girls have danced with him?"
"Alanna surely wouldn't, but Melissa probably would have. As for Sarah and Robin—" Byron paused a moment and then shook his head. "No, they would have gone home early rather than have danced with an Indian brave."
"Then it's a damn good thing he had sense enough to leave, rather than risk spoiling the party, so I'll not fault him for a lack of manners. Now let's just see he stays with us when he's in camp, and that ought to minimize the danger of anyone offending him." Elliott clapped Byron on the back, and the matter settled, they turned their attention to other duties.
* * *
For the first couple of nights after Hunter had left their home, Melissa lay awake until the pale pink rays of dawn filled the sky. It was only then that the burden of her dreadful secret lifted long enough for her to sleep, but her tortured soul filled her dreams with taunting memories of a dark-eyed man whose kisses were divine, and she awoke as exhausted as when she had gone to bed. She had successfully pretended to be in good spirits for her family's benefit, but on Sunday morning, the prospect of attending church and attempting to fool the whole town was too much for her. She complained of a severe headache and remained in bed while her parents and Alanna went into Williamsburg. She could hear the servants moving around downstairs, making the preparations for Sunday dinner, but while the familiar sound of their voices should have been reassuring, it was not.
Melissa drew in a deep breath and exhaled with a sob. If only she could sleep, she knew she would be much better able to cope. Brandy had helped one night, but she dared not rely on it. Not only would her father notice it was disappearing too fast, she knew men had nothing but contempt for women who drank. There were men who frequently got so drunk at the Raleigh Tavern they could not sit their horses to ride home, and no one thought less of them, but should a woman ever become tipsy, it was a cause of endless gossip and shame. She had trouble enough without inviting the kind brandy could bring.
Her mother had brought her a cup of chamomile tea before leaving for church, and although it had grown cold, Melissa sipped it slowly. She did not really have a headache, so it did not matter what she took to cure it, but she knew she could not continue to live indefinitely in such a miserable state. It was a great pity she hadn't felt well enough to attend church, because Ian Scott was usually there, and she did so want to see him. Just the thought of his charming smile brought a tear to her eye, and she had to set her teacup aside. She lay down and tried to think only of Ian, for his sweet teasing had always amused her. She would never need him more.
* * *
At Melissa's urging, Alanna wore another of her cousin's stylish gowns to church, and while she made a sincere effort not to glance in Randolph O'Neil's direction during the service, she nevertheless found herself doing just that. Each time their eyes met he would nod and smile, while she would blush and force her attention back to her prayer book. Merely curious, she had not meant to encourage him, but at the end of the service, when everyone gathered in front of the church to talk before going home, he hurried to her side.
"Good morning, Miss Barclay," he began in an enthusiastic rush. "I don't recall your ever being as beautiful as you are today."
Uncertain whether or not that was a compliment, Alanna hesitated a moment too long before replying. "Thank you."
Her delay made Randolph realize his remark had been ambiguous, if not just plain stupid, and he hastened to apologize. "Not that you don't always look pretty, of course, you do, but usually, well, I guess what I mean is your gown is especially attractive today. Pink is a very becoming color."
Melissa had been right, Alanna noted, for not only was Randolph O'Neil a nice man, his eyes were a vivid blue. Had he been closer to her age, she would have thought him handsome, but all she saw was a dear man who was old enough to be her father, and that precluded any romantic possibilities, had she wanted them, which she didn't. She liked him though, and it showed in her smile.
"I'm afraid I've neglected my wardrobe the last few years. This is Melissa's gown, and I'll tell her how much you liked it. I'm hoping to have some new gowns made soon, and I'll remember that you said I looked nice in pink."
Completely captivated by Alanna's quiet charm, Randolph strove to make an intelligent reply, but John Barclay spoke to him first and when he turned to respond, Ian Scott and Graham Tyler came forward to talk with Alanna. He had to step back to make room for them, and his opportunity to impress her was lost. Alanna had a maturity that appealed to him, and determined to get to know her better, he concentrated his efforts on strengthening his friendship with John and Rachel.
"Why didn't Melissa come to church?" Ian asked.
By comparison, Ian's greeting made Randolph's clumsy compliment appear devoted, and while Alanna could see by the Englishman's expression how worried he was, she could not excuse his rudeness. "I'm very well, thank you, and how are you?" she replied.
Flustered for an instant, Ian quickly recovered. "Good morning, Alanna. I didn't mean to ignore you, but when I saw you and not Melissa, I couldn't help but be concerned. Is she ill?"
Rather than speculate on the cause of the conti