“Good morning, sir.” Mr. Folger limped forward to welcome him. “How can I help ye?”
“Good morning, my good man. Miss Folger.” Frederick removed his hat, nodded to the father and daughter, and cast an inquisitive glance toward the big man behind Folger.
“Ah, ye’ve not met my partner.” Folger urged the man forward. “Mr. Moberly, this is my nephew, Captain Templeton, who now commands my old ship.”
The younger captain’s steady gaze was a clear and bold appraisal of Frederick.
In an instant, the air seemed sparked with invisible lightning. Instinctively, Frederick took on the unassuming pose he had perfected as the youngest of four sons to keep from being whipped into his proper place. Hating himself for it, he nonetheless feigned amiability and reached out to shake the other man’s hand rather than meet his challenge and put him in his place. Who was this man that he would boldly stare at a superior?
“Captain Templeton,” Frederick said.
“Moberly.” Templeton’s guarded frown softened as they shook hands. “You’ve done a right fine job in building St. Johns Settlement. Perhaps we can do business in the future.”
“Indeed?” Frederick glanced at Folger.
“Aye.” The older man’s broad smile suggested his eagerness to foster a friendship among the three of them. “A wise man’s always on the lookout for good business associates.”
“Well said.” Frederick wondered if he had been mistaken about the younger captain’s earlier demeanor.
The conversation turned to weather, the war up north, anticipated shipping problems, the feasibility of planting more citrus groves and prices of goods. All possible storms were dispelled as the three men enthusiastically expressed their concerns and opinions as if they had been in trade together for years. The amity in the air felt good after Oliver’s betrayal.
He noticed Miss Folger had busied herself with the bolts of lace and ribbons behind the counter. With her back to him, he could see the delicate lines of her ivory neck, with a few blond curls escaping from her mobcap to trail over the white collar of her brown dress.
Templeton must have caught the direction of his gaze, for he cleared his throat. “Did you wish to speak with my cousin?” His tone sounded like the growl of a protective bear.
Irritation swept through Frederick, but again, he was all amiability. “Indeed, I did.”
She turned around, puzzlement lifting her eyebrows into a charming arch. “To me?”
Frederick hesitated. “Perhaps I should say to you and your father.” He nodded to Templeton. “And now to you, as well.”
Folger appeared more than a little pleased. “Say on, sir.”
“I am planning a dinner party for those whom I consider the leading citizens of this community and surrounding areas. I should like to invite you and Miss Folger—” He included Templeton with a quick glance. “All three of you to join us one week from Saturday at my plantation.”
Their stunned expressions nearly sent Frederick into a schoolboy’s guffaw. Did these people know nothing of parties? Had they never received such an invitation?
“Why, that’s quite an honor, sir.” Folger straightened as if he had been knighted by the king himself. “Of course I accept.”
“And you, Miss Folger? Will you attend with your father?”
Her wide-eyed gaze darted from him to her father to Templeton and back to him again. “Why, I—I haven’t anything to wear to such a grand occasion.”
“Why, Rachel, what a thing to say in front of these gentlemen.” The color deepened in Folger’s ruddy cheeks. “As if yer papa couldn’t provide a proper gown for ye.”
The young lady’s corresponding blush bespoke her modesty, a pleasing sight.
Frederick looked at Templeton. “And you, captain?”
Templeton shook his head. “I thank you, sir, but I’m afraid I’ll be on my way to London by then. I’m setting sail from Mayport in a few days.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear it.” Frederick found himself meaning those words. After those first sparks had been extinguished, the fellow had inspired a certain confidence.
As for doing business with him, Frederick had much to consider. After Oliver’s betrayal, how could he ever trust another man? Especially an American.
Chapter Three
“Can ye beat that?” Papa stared after Mr. Moberly as he rode away. “Inviting us to a dinner party. Calling us ‘leading citizens.’”
Jamie raised one eyebrow and traded a glance with Papa. “A good opportunity.”
“What do you mean?” Rachel looked from one to the other. Was this another of those secrets they kept from her, things they called “men’s matters”?
“Why, business, daughter.” Papa took up his shipping log and quill and made notes. “’Tis a great honor for Mr. Moberly to stamp his approval on us. It’ll bring more customers.”
“Indeed it shall.” Jamie leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “Now what do you suppose I could bring from London to further foster his good opinion?”
Papa tapped his quill against his chin. “Hmm. He hires ships to deliver the plantation’s products to England and bring back what’s needed here.” He stared out of the window for a moment. “I’ve got the notion they’d like to increase the population with decent folk, more tradesmen and such, not the lowlife camp followers that plague the regiment, nor the Spanish who stayed on after England seized these lands.”
“Humph,” Rachel said. “Please do not tell me you want Jamie to import more Englishmen, tradesmen or no. It is beyond enough that English sympathizers from the Carolinas are arriving here every week.”
“And welcome to them.” Papa bent toward her in his paternal fashion. “The more that come from South Carolina and Georgia, the better it will be for everyone, for they’ll understand the land more than an Englishman. And consider this. King George gave the good citizens of New England plenty of opportunities to populate both East and West Florida. Ye can see how few have accepted his invitation.”
“And, if not American colonials,” Jamie said, “why not more English?” He sent Rachel a brotherly smile. “The ordinary Englishman’s no threat to your patriot cause, especially way down here in East Florida. They’re like Uncle Lamech here, people who want a chance to build a life in a new place.”
“Yes, so you both have said. Never mind that they will all be willing to join a militia in support of the Crown.” Rachel would not add that she had never wanted a life in a new place. Papa had announced she would accompany him to East Florida, and that was that. With a sigh, she ambled across the room toward the material display and ran a finger over a bolt of fabric. “Papa, will you let me take a length of this mosquito netting to protect Sadie’s baby? He’s a mass of bites this morning, poor boy.”
“And
