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morning.” He
waved his ledger book once and dropped it into a saddlebag. “There is much that
Mr. Talbot and I must discuss.”
The road to the eastern flank of Brougham Hall led through some freehold farms.
As they rode by, Stannard nodded or doffed his hat to men he knew who were working
in the fields.
Hugh asked, “What requirements must a man meet to be appointed a tobacco inspector
by the government here, Mr. Stannard?”
The agent shrugged. “That he be an honest man, and able to judge good leaf from
bad.”
“How does a man acquire such knowledge, except by staining his hands in the
care and worming of his own leaf?”
“By having been a good planter, sir, though the victim of some misfortune.”
“Is Mr. Ivy such a person?”
“No. Mr. Ivy is a distant relation of Mr. Cullis’s wife. Her cousin, I believe.
He was overseer for one of Mr. Cullis’s places on the James. When Mr. Cullis
sold that place some years ago, he nominated Mr. Ivy to succeed old Mr. St.
John, who was ailing at the time.”
“I see.”
Twenty-five minutes later the party was back on Queen Anne Street. When his
guests dismounted and stood on the porch of the boarding house, Stannard took
the reins of their mounts. “I shall ask Mr. Gramatan’s stable to reserve these
mounts for you, sirs,” he said, “and I will call on you here with my wife and
son near six-thirty.”
“We will be ready, Mr. Stannard,” Talbot said. “Thank you for your time. We
look forward to the celebration this evening.”
“The Amelia will depart on her return voyage tomorrow afternoon, Mr.
Stannard,” Hugh said. “If we decide in your favor, Mr. Talbot and I would like
to be on it, but only after some business has been settled.”
“Of course,” said the agent. “It will be a bit parky out of doors this evening,
but I believe the company will keep us warm. Until later, sirs.” Stannard tipped
his hat, then rode back up the street with the two mounts in tow.
A while later, in their room, while Talbot shaved himself, Hugh reviewed his
notes in the ledger book. He frowned briefly, and remarked, “It is something
of a paradox, Mr. Talbot, but I had the impression that Mr. Stannard is quite
content to be a creditor, though that status jeopardizes his business.” He turned
to face his friend and mentor. “Had you that impression, too?”
“Yes,” answered the man, wiping his face off with a towel. “But it is no paradox
at all. His status as a creditor gives him a dollop of power.”
Hugh turned this reply over in his mind for a moment, then resumed his studies.
Talbot studied the back of his protégé. “What would you call the place, Mr.
Kenrick?” he asked. “New Danvers, perhaps? Or, Effney Hall — in honor of your
mother? She would be so pleased. Or, simply Kenrick?”
Hugh looked up again. “I had not given the matter thought, Mr. Talbot,” he said.
“No, none of those,” he added, shaking his head. “I am certain, though, that
I should not continue to call it Brougham Hall. It must be a name of my own
choosing…something that would distinguish it from anything in my past….”

Chapter 4: The Ball
    T he seat of Enderly was a residence not quite twice the size of Brougham Hall,
but large enough that its enclosing wings, connected to the main house by roofed
colonnades, formed a spacious brick courtyard. In the center of the courtyard
stood a mature red cedar encircled by crocuses, hollyhocks, and lilacs. Instead
of a wall and an arched gate to complete the square, there were two stands of
tulip trees, through which ran a neatly set road of flagstones salvaged from
the York River and the plantation’s fields. This road, laboriously “paved” and
extended by two generations of the Vishonn family to the common road that led
out of Caxton, was lined with boxwoods, willow oaks, and several varieties of
holly. It was by this road, in the cool October evening,