Chapter 14: Alexander, Part 3

Jesslynn stopped walking and let go of Alexander's hand to stare him straight in the face. "What have you been doing?" Before he could answer, his father appeared, and she turned her unhappiness on him. "Who is that man, Riley, Oren? Can he be trusted?"

"He's a friend of Jorick's," Oren answered.

"A friend?" Jesslynn questioned sarcastically. "I didn't think he was capable of friends."

"An acquaintance then," Oren said impatiently. "If he were not trust worthy, Jorick would not have brought him to our home. He has already vouched for him. Is his word not enough?"

Jesslynn didn't look convinced. "Perhaps, and perhaps not. It isn't his life that hangs on the trustworthiness of this man's lips. You will make his compulsory compliance clear to him before they leave."

Oren sighed. "Jesslynn-"

"You will make it clear, or I will do it for you! Your children depend upon it!"

Alexander wasn't sure how they "depended" upon Mr. Riley's "compliance", but he knew better than to ask.

Oren finally surrendered. "I will speak to him, and Jorick."

"Good. Now, what news do they bring that is unsuitable for our ears?"

Alexander tried to remain as quiet as possible. Inconspicuous children could find out all kinds of interesting things, including news they were too young to hear.

It worked.

"There was a slave uprising, in Southampton County. They killed 50 or more."

"Mortals?" Jesslynn demanded.

"Yes, of course."

"Then why would we care?" she asked haughtily.

Oren stared at her incredulously. "Southampton County is only seventy miles south of us, Jesslynn. If they can rebel there, what is to stop them from doing so here? What is to stop them from creeping into the cellar while we sleep?"

"Fear."

Oren shook his head. "Fear will only go so far. Would it not be best to simply free them and send them on their way? We don't need the plantation, anymore-"

She met his eyes challengingly. "Why do you say that? Do you think the neighbors will simply ignore it if our fields go wild? Do you think they won't question?"

Oren ground his teeth together angrily. "Do you think they do not already question? They have neighbors that they never see, and when they do, we never change! For the love of God, we have children that never age!"

Alexander caught his breath, and the sound reminded them that he was there. Oren stepped back quickly, and his face fell to his usual cool, impassive expression. "We have guests waiting." He started for the doorway, but stopped and looked back. "Alexander, go to your room and study your reading. Stay away from that slave child."

He wanted to argue, but his mother's sharp tone silenced him, "Slave child?" She grabbed Alexander's arm, and bent to stare him in the face. "Have we not discussed this?"

"Yes, ma'am." He could argue about Eucey another time. "What did Father mean children that never age?" She pressed her lips tightly together and he stared into her eyes, willing her to answer, but her dark gaze overwhelmed him and he was forced to look away, defeated.

"We will not discuss this further," she snapped. "Do as your father says." She straightened up and swept from the room, her long skirts rustling behind her.

Alexander sighed heavily and did as he was told, though the prospect was a bleak one. He'd read the primer from start to finish more times than he could count and had most of the stories memorized. It was the same with his other studies; the same books, the same lessons, over and over and over. His days were a long circle of the same rituals repeated again and again with seemingly no progress.

***

Alexander headed upstairs, but hesitated at going straight to his room. Instead, he slipped into the nursery. Nanny Hannah sat in the rocking chair, Tristan in her arms as she rocked back and forth.

"Is he fussing?" Alexander asked as he crept closer.

The nanny shook her head, eyes on everything except the child in her arms.

Alexander stopped next to them and tentatively laid his hand on his baby brother's small head. "Mother says he is a good baby who rarely fusses."

"That's true," the nanny murmured.

Alexander smoothed the baby's hair. "He likes this, though." He looked up to meet her eyes and smiled. "He likes you."

Nanny Hannah shuddered. Her gaze moved quickly away from him, away from his brother. "Does he? How can you tell?"

Alexander wasn't sure how to answer that. "I don't know how I know. I justknow." He frowned as he realized that didn't explain it at all. "I can feel it."

"Of course you can."

He couldn't identify the emotion in her voice, so he stepped back and toyed with a doll that was seated in a chair, bright button eyes looking at the world. The embroidered smile had come loose at one end, and frayed threads looked ticklish.

"What else can you feel?"

Alexander wasn't sure how to answer that. He ran his finger over the frayed thread, back and forth, back and forth. Finally, "I can feel that you don't like Tristan very much."

"Why would you say that?"

Alexander shrugged, still playing with the frayed smile. "I don't know. It just feels like that. Is it because Tristan is so much extra work? You have to feed him so many times a night."

Nanny Hannah stood and laid the baby in his crib, taking extra care to arrange him and his blankets. "I have no ill will toward your brother, do you understand?"

Alexander shrugged, abandoning the tickly smile. "Do you know why Mother was upset about Mr. Riley?"

Nanny's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

"She was angry that Mr. Smit brought him here. She said that Father must make him be compliant, but she didn't say about what. Do you know?"

"You should ask her," the nanny said quickly, eyes cast down again.

It was the standard adult answer. Ask your mother. "She wouldn't tell me. They never tell me anything."

"Then you are not meant to know."

Alexander stomped his foot in frustration. "Why? Why am I never to know anything? It isn't fair!"

A man's voice came from the doorway, "Life is rarely fair."