Sally, tell Big Jim I’ll be right there,” Jorgine called out as she hurried up the stairs to her room for the third time. Hudson had sent word this afternoon that he’d booked passage for Sally, but she’d have to leave tonight. Jorgine’s valise was bursting at the seams when she’d checked it a few minutes ago, and she realized she’d forgotten the pin money in her nightstand. Sally could use that for food or to establish herself once she was north.
She had barely crossed the threshold to her room when he spoke.
“Niece.” Richard Emerson made a dashing figure, leaning against the mantel with the air of an orator ready to deliver a rousing speech to his waiting admirers. Yet she sensed a tension in him, a brooding anger, as if he might attack if provoked. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
Taking a deep breath, Jorgine crossed the room to her dresser. “Uncle Richard, to what do I owe this special surprise?”
“You can cut out the niceties, Jorgine.” He stretched his arm across the thick oak mantel. “You and I don’t have a great deal of fondness for each other, so why pretend we do?”
“All right then.” She glared at him. “Why are you here?”
“Close the door, Jorgine.” The menacing tone of his request set her nerves on edge.
“There’s no need. No one will hear us.”
“Where are your slaves?” He took a few measured steps toward her then sank into a nearby chair. “You didn’t free them, did you? There was no one downstairs to answer the door when I arrived.”
“And yet you managed all by yourself.”
He charged out of the chair after her, lifting his fist as if to strike her. Slamming her eyes shut, Jorgine braced herself for the blow. But it never came. Instead, his hot breath seared the tender skin of her face. “I’ll leave it to Win to teach you the proper decorum of a political wife. For now, he doesn’t want that face of yours marred by bruises and such.” He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “But you will give me the respect that’s due me or you’ll pay the price.”
Hadn’t she already paid enough? Marrying a man she could never love and leaving behind the only man she could. Opening her eyes, she glared at him. “Yes, Uncle.”
“Good. Now, take a seat. We have much to talk about.”
“What could we have to discuss?” She sat across from him, arranging her skirts as if she were expecting company. “In less than a week, I’m marrying the man you chose for whatever reasons.” Jorgine sat straight with her hands folded in her lap. “So please forgive me if I think talking with you is a huge waste of my time.”
“You’ve always had a sharp tongue.” Richard reclaimed his seat across from her, his booted foot resting casually on his knee as if this was a cordial chat between relatives. Jorgine wasn’t fooled. Her uncle didn’t believe in polite conversation; he never had. “I always find it amusing when someone tries to pull the wool over my eyes. It’s like they have no idea who they’re dealing with.”
Nerves caused her stomach to churn. She felt like a mouse being toyed with. “I could see where that would be annoying.”
“That’s interesting you should say that, my dear niece.” His low chuckle held no humor. “Considering you’re the one doing it.”
Jorgine’s mouth went dry. If Richard knew the extent of her involvement with Hudson or her plans for Sally’s escape, he would have stopped her before now. Besides, she’d been careful. “I don’t know what you mean, Uncle.”
“Of course, you’d deny it. What kind of lady would you be if word got around of your involvement in the runaways’ escape?” He shook his head. “Underground Railroad. Who do they think they’re fooling? Nobody with a brain in their head, that’s who.”
Jorgine’s thoughts scrambled. Richard knew of her work with the slaves, but did he suspect Hudson and his family? It would be best to stay silent rather than incriminate anyone else.
“No witty retorts, Niece? I didn’t think so.” He shook his head. “Did you really believe you would get away with stealing people’s property without anyone finding out?”
“No one can steal a person, Uncle, any more than you can own them,” she answered finally.
His harsh chuckle grated on her. “No wonder your father left me in charge of you. I thought it was my penitence after the trouble I gave Elliott in our youth. But now I’ve determined he must have known you didn’t have any sense.” He flicked a glance at her. “Your father would have been so disappointed.”
“You’re wrong. Papa would have believed in what I’m doing. He probably would have joined me if he’d lived.” She sat quietly for a moment then added, “It was his desire to free our slaves.”
“Then Elliott was as stupid as you are.” His face went taut. “Do you realize the scandal you could have caused? Win wouldn’t want you. No man would, not even for the precious Emerson name. You’d be a social pariah if the crowd didn’t tar and feather you first.”
“I doubt they’d go that far.”
His nostrils flared as he snorted. “What do you think your ‘friends’ will say when they find out you, an engaged woman, have been traipsing around at all hours of the night with a rake like Hudson Wallace? They’ll not see you as much of a lady then, now will they? You’ll be dead to them, and Wallace won’t be around to save your scrawny little hide.”
Fear shot through her like a bolt of lightning. Dear heavens, he knew all of it, including Hudson’s involvement. “What do you mean Hudson won’t be around?”
“That boy will be in prison along with the rest of his traitor family, if he is not shot first.” Richard turned to her, his eyes hard and menacing. “I’d put a bullet in him myself, but that would ruin my plans.”
“Plans?” she whispered.
“A political career, my dear. With the Wakefields in my pocket, I can aspire to any office in the land. Though I’m holding out hope for a Cabinet position in the Southern Confederacy once South Carolina secedes from the Union.”
She froze in stark horror. “You’re mad.”
Richard laughed. “I like to think of myself as more of a visionary, my dear. Much like your fiancé. The Wakefields were barely scrimping by with the monies made in their cotton fields, but Win saw where the true value lay. In the slaves.”
Jorgine mashed her lips together in disgust. “Yes. I know all about Win’s business, among other things.”
“Win is too smart to get his hands dirty, though he has made some wise investments in such companies.” His lips turned up at the corners. “Like the one who is going to raid Wallace’s operation tonight.”
Shock pulled Jorgine to her feet. “No, Uncle! Please! Hudson’s done nothing.”
But Richard ignored her. “Within a few hours, Hudson Wallace will be in custody.” Triumph showed on his face. “Or dead.”
Jorgine’s heart spluttered. This was all her fault. If she hadn’t been so desperate to see Sally safe, then her uncle never would have learned of Hudson’s involvement in the underground system. Of course, she wouldn’t know what a good man Hudson was either. She’d do anything for him, even die if she must.
“I thought you might say that.”
Jorgine blinked in confusion. “What?”
“There is one way to stop the raid on Thorndike Hall.” He steepled his fingers over his chest as if to pray. No, men like Richard didn’t pray unless it suited him. “But you would have to make it worth my time.”
“What would that be?”
Richard glanced around the room, as if taking stock of the furnishings, trinkets, and tapestries for the first time. “I always did envy Elliott this place. With a bit of work and redecorating, this would be a fitting residence for a Cabinet member of the Confederacy.”
Bile rose in her throat. Her uncle in the house her father built. “You want Piney Brooke?”
He lazily picked a piece of thread from his wool coat sleeve. “Between your inheritance and the money Win is paying for the Emerson name, I will live very well indeed.”
Either Hudson or her home. She knew where her heart lay. “Piney Brooke is yours.”
“You’ve made a wise decision.” He stood then walked over to the open door. “For tonight, anyway.”
Jorgine whirled around. “What do you mean by that?”
A bulky giant of a man filled the doorway at Richard’s nod. “Our arrangement is only for the raid this evening, but there is tomorrow or the next day. But if you agree to my conditions, I can put off the inevitable.”
She drew in a shaky breath. What else did she have to give? Her uncle had taken her inheritance, her home. What more could he want? “What conditions?”
“In return for Wallace’s safety, you will stay here in your rooms under guard until I fetch you on your wedding day. If you try to escape, I’ll kill the man myself.”