“They’re buying indentures,” Ben said.
Of course! Indentured servants were common throughout the Colonies, especially in Pennsylvania where ready labor often ran short. My own father had relied upon this form of labor, having purchased at least a score of contracts over the years, but never before had I witnessed the actual proceedings.
The two groups could not have been more different in nature. The men clustered in front of the desk were loud and boisterous, unrestrained in showing their anger or mirth during the negotiations. The lot of men and boys standing behind Captain Harlow and his armed sailors looked ill at ease as they waited to learn their fate.
How very much like myself. Except that many of these individuals had signed up, willing to trade four to seven years of labor for passage to the Colonies. Some, I had heard were criminals sent over from England, opting for transport over hanging on the gallows. As another boy walked off with his new master, I thought of sailing away to a place where I could start again without Nathan Crowley. Girls could sign up to serve in numerous occupations, such as maids and cooks, though this trade generally only went one way. Europe sent over its most impoverished and depraved, but needed none of our own in return.
While I mulled over my own miserable fate, I noticed one of the remaining indentures staring in my direction. Although he wore the same rough garb as his companions and looked equally disheveled after eight weeks at sea, he held himself altogether different, in a manner that bespoke of confidence, verging on arrogance. He stood a good head taller than the other men, and from the breadth of his shoulders, appeared to be powerfully built. His light brown hair was tied back into a tangled ponytail, revealing a strong jaw and straight nose.
In truth, I found his features most pleasing and thought how nice it would be if he were Samuel rather than an impoverished soul, waiting to be sold for labor. As I’d never met my cousin, it hardly took any effort to imagine the other man in his place, nor, in a moment of weakness, to allow the events to play out as they were supposed to before fate had so cruelly intervened.
We’d have done as my father instructed and gone straight to the magistrate to be married. Unless, of course, Samuel had wanted a bath and shave at the inn first...I looked more closely at the man behind Captain Harlow. His present roughness possessed a certain appeal, though I’d not have begrudged him the chance to freshen up for the ceremony...Either way, Samuel and I would have been husband and wife no later than midday. And come nightfall...
A sudden thrill teased my skin. Then what? Surely he’d not have demanded to share a bed until we were better acquainted...I traced the strong lines of the man’s face, and found the telltale signs of intelligence and a natural authority, without the least bit of cruelty...Though perhaps he would have been tempted to steal a kiss or two on our wedding night...
Leaning forward a fraction of an inch, my lips parted ever so slightly. The sun had grown noticeably warmer, and the previous chill vanished beneath the thin line of perspiration that now dotted my nape. For a moment everything seemed to slow. The chaos and din fell away, and I clung to his gaze as though it were a lifeboat in the middle of a tumultuous sea.
A minute or ten may have passed before the stranger offered the faintest smile and returned his attention to the captain. Sound and movement rushed in from every direction at once, yanking me back to the here and now. The spell of my vivid daydream broken, I hurriedly turned away, heat burning my cheeks.
Gracious heaven! What is wrong with me? Fanning myself the best I could with one hand, I cursed the state of mind that had allowed for such wild imaginings.
Samuel was dead, and no amount of wishful thinking would bring him back. This other man would soon be gone as well, indentured to a new master. Under the circumstances, all I could do was return home to salvage what remained of my former life, either as Nathan’s wife or a destitute outcast. The chill seeped back into my chest, and I stared gloomily at the rough gray cobbles at my feet.
Oh, if only that man were really my cousin. If only—