Chapter Il
When Mundy brought up her trunks Phibe Thomas, her father's chambermaid, insisted on coming along to help Michaela get settled, but there was more on her than just baggage on her mind.
"That father of yours is still getting himself in more trouble and mischief than it's worth." she began without introduction. Michaela attempted to lift her trunks against Phibes protest who grabbed them from her hands and moved them without a struggle as if they were as light as a feather. She had broad hands and muscular arms, there was no doubt that she was capable.
"Well child, never you mind. Now that you're here I know you can keep that father of yours in line."
Some might have said that Michaela had her father wrapped around her finger, but Michaela didn't think that way she thought that she had one of the most prized privileges in the world: a father's love.
"Miss Thomas-" Michaela started.
"No, mistress please call me Phibe. That's what everyone else calls me."
Michaela smiled, "Well, then, please call me Michaela. Strange, it seems everyone in this place goes by their first name." This was a social violation that would have never been acceptable at home; Michaela knew that if her sister was here she would say that she was becoming far too familiar with her servants. "Has my father done well by you?" Phibe stood up suddenly and gave Michaela a long look. Then she smiled. "Well, the menfolk are waiting on us. We must get you to the table immediately" She turned around and headed for the door, her skirt swirling behind her. Michaela felt uneasy about her sudden resistance, "Has my father done well by you?" She repeated. Phibe spoke with her back toward Michaela. "Yes, he done well by me. But there are others who think otherwise." Finally, she turned and saw questions forming in Michaela's face.
"Time to get to the table," she said, and she was gone before Michaela could ask any more questions.
When Michaela had changed into a simple green dress and tamed her hair into a roll along the back of her head, she stood looking at herself in the mirror. The image of Byron Sully, bare chested, rose up before her and she scowled fiercely at herself. He was waiting downstairs, so was the mysterious David Lewis, and she would have to deal with both of them. This was not what she had expected for the first day in her new home. In England she was worth much in society; tho she had prefered the company of her father's books.
When she could wait no longer, Michaela found her way down to the dining room where the meal and the men waited for her. Her father took her by the arm with great enthusiasm, her and presented her to Dr. Lewis; Michaela smiled politely and answered his questions about her trip and health, all the while aware of Sully, who stood with his back against the wall with his arms crossed, and his gaze fixed only on her.
David Lewis did his best to capture all her attention for himself: he was talkative and amusing. She judged him to be just over thirty. and the look of his brown eyes and his main of brown hair was friendly and seemed sincere.
Seated at the end of the table opposite her father, Michaela found herself too near Byron Sully for comfort. He was on her left; David Lewis sat to her right. Michaela noted with relief that the three men had immediately taken up the conversation on the war abound to start in France and she would not have to entertain the four men.
I can manage this, she said to herself firmly, and she turned to Sully, determined to make a new start with this strange man. He wore his own clothing again, the dressing on his wounded shoulder showing through, still stained in blood.
"Mr. Sully, are you in pain." she asked. "Is your wound distressing?"
"Just Sully please," he corrected her. Then: "I am comfortable enough now, miss. Thank you kindly for your concern."
"You are most kindly welcome." she said, mathings Sully's tone of mild impertinence.
The dining room was small and somewhat dark. She was lost on how to start a conversation which would engage both David and Sully; subject which were stapes of polite dinner conversation at home would not do here, and she did not know them well enough to bring up more controversial political topics, although she would have like to have their opinions. Michaela glanced around the room again and noted the number of wood carvings. Her eyes followed the carving of what she assumed was a hawk and it enchanted her. She knew that someone carved this with such love in their heart, how else could it be so beautiful?
"I see that my father has been collecting the works of local woodworkers." Michaela said to both David and Sully. "Interesting, some of them. I like the hawk."
The corners of Sully's mouth turned upward in a smile that she had not yet seen. "That an eagle, miss."
"Is that so, I admit that I haven't seen enough eagles to know. But I do like it."
"I'm surprised you like it, it's very lopsided if you ask me." Sully said, and Michaela turned to him.
"I agree that not all artworks are equal, but aren't you being rather hard on the artist?" Michaela asked.
"I have to be." Sully said calmly. "As the artist. Your father has an interest in the things I create, same as you."
Michaela was surprised to learn that he had created the piece. In England, young women were sent to school to learn how to make pretty sketches of mountains and flowers, but it was unusual to find a young man interested in such an art.
"Does art interest you?" Sully asked her.
She laughed. "I admit, I have no talent for it," she said. "But with the landscapes around me perhaps I will try my hand at it."
"Don't you find it magnificent," she continued, addressing her remark to David and Sully, who fixed his attention on her willingly, "That the beauty of this land has been untouched and unappreciated for such a long time?"
"This land was not empty before the Europeans came," he said in a sour tone.
"Excuse me Mr. Sully," began David, but Sully cut him off. "It was not untouched," he continued. "And it definitely was anything but unappreciated." With a glance toward David, and then her father, who was deeply involved in his own conversation and who had not followed their exchanged, Sully stopped himself.
Michaela was astonished and intrigued all at once; she wanted to hear what Sully had to say. But before she could think of some way to make this clear to him, David Lewis claimed her attention.
"I assume you will want to have a look around the village, Miss Michaela," the doctor said to her with a friendly smile, helping himself to venison from the platter. "You must be quite curious about your new home."
Michaela turned to him. "Yes, I am looking forward to my first trip to the village. I am especially curious to meet my future patients."
"Patients?" David smiled forcibly.
Michaela looked toward her father, who was talking to Sully's friend. "Yes. It would be hard to practice medicine without them."
"You're a healer?" Sully asked. His agitation had disappeared. His gaze was cool, but engaged.
"Why, yes," she said. "I do. That is why I came here."
"Your father hasn't said anything about that," said David.
For a moment Michaela was truly speechless. She had spent months in England preparing for her new role in the colonies. She had bought and read medical books, consulted educators. It had consumed her completely, and now she found out that her father had never even mentioned her plans to his closest companions. She felt Davids eyes on her, and she knew the only way to rescue the new life she had thought to claim for herself was to speak up for herself as she had never spoken up for herself before.
"Father?" said Michaela. "There seems to be some confusion. How is it that Dr. Lewis and Mr. Sully haven't heard my career plans?"
The doctor's eyes darted form Michaela to David and back again.
"My dear," he began slowly. "All good things in their time, eh? You'll need a few weeks at least to settle in.
Michaela struggled to keep her growing surprise and distress hidden. She put down her fork and folded her hands in front of her with deliberation. "I can at least make a list of the families and learn more about them. And my office where I will be practicing will need to be in order."
"What office?" Asked Sully. "There is no doctors office in this village that I know of, miss."
This was a shock. In her fathers letters he had written of a building just out of town where she could do her work. Had he been lying? She lifted an eyebrow toward her father and waited. "You don't mean to tell me there is really no such building?"
The doctor cleared his throat expansively. "Well, maybe not technically, not yet, but there will be."
"Father," she began slowly. "You wrote to me that would provide me with-"
"So I did," he interrupted, glancing at David. "So I did. And I will see to it you will have what you need. An office will be built."
"In the meantime perhaps I can use this house to tend to patients?"
"Why Michaela, that's appalling," said the doctor. "It's far too unsanitary to have patients here. Besides, I can't think of anyone at the moment who would be in need of medical services. Let's put aside this conversation for another time."
Unwilling to let the conversation drop she turned toward David, "Do you believe that there is no one in the village I can tend to."
He thought for a moment, "I would say there are dozens or more. But they will not want medical attention."
"And why not?"
David stayed silent and looked down to avoid her eyes, "Some of them aren't free."
She felt Sully's intensify and she glanced up at him; on his face Michaela say something unexpected: astonishment. She addressed him.
"Mr. Sully," she began.
"Sully," he corrected her once again.
"Surely they wouldn't mind if I tended to them."
He nodded. "They might," he said. "But the owners will mind."
"Come now Michaela, don't upset yourself," the doctor said, pursing his lips.
David Lewis shifted uneasily in his seat as she drew herself up and turned her attention to her father. He anticipated her question. "Michaela, I have never owned slaves."
"You allow the village to hold slaves, so you not?"
The doctor flushed in agitation. "That is not something I can determine personally," he said. "Just because I own land does not mean I control legislature. You must know that some slave owners are fair-minded people, good people." he said feebly.
"How would you know that?" she demanded. "How can you know that? How can you find anything fair in slavery?"
David Lewis spoke up. "Because your father knows me, and I have two slaves," he said.
Michaela's face drained of color; she addressed her father without acknowledging Dr. Lewis.
"Will approach each of the slave owners, then, and ask for permission."
"No slave owner is going to send his slaves to you, Michaela," Sully said quietly. She turned to him and saw that he did not mean to offend her, but that he also was unwilling to spare her the truth.
"I must try at any rate," Michaela said. The men looked at eachother. "Now if you excuse me, gentlemen, I beg your leave to retire."
"But Michaela," her father protested. "You have hardly eaten anything."
She stood, smoothing her skirt as she did so, sent her father one long silent look, and took her leave of the party.