The Right Hand Of The Father

chapter 24

"What do you mean Mister Alexander is declining to go to New Orleans?" George stared at Billy Lee.

"Mister Alexander says he isn't going to New Orleans," Billy Lee said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Says he has no intention of taking part in the Season and sees no reason to travel there when he can stay at Derniere instead."

"Then you will go tell Mister Alexander that I do not care what he thinks about the issue. He will be going to New Orleans for the Season and we will be leaving in ten minutes. Regardless of whether he climbs into that carriage—" George pointed at the closed black carriage standing in the dooryard with its door open and Cato already on the driver's seat. "Willingly or not. But tell him if he chooses to resist I will have him forcibly put there."

Billy Lee said nothing, just turned on his heel and started back inside the house.

George watched as his personal valet and butler started up the stairs, his footsteps heavy. There had been a shift in the house since their return from New Orleans and he knew the slaves were no longer on his side. The battle lines had been drawn and they'd taken Alexander's side. Enforcing his will on the boy would be a solo endeavor.

He just didn't understand why he had to force the boy. They'd agreed to this. Agreed that Alexander would stay with him through the winter and let George have the chance to convince him that his future lay in New Orleans and not America. To convince Alexander that he could be a good father to him.

But Alexander had defied him at every turn. Had refused to come to dinner. Had disappeared during the day so that George could not find him. Would not speak to him. And now? Now he was informing George that he would be spending the next three months at Derniere while George was needed in New Orleans, thereby preventing him from even having a chance to prove himself to the boy.

He was obstinate. Stroppy. The exact personality characteristics that George had sworn to Thomas Jefferson that Alexander couldn't possibly possess. His sweet, loving boy had turned insolent and angry.

He paced the dooryard. Waiting for Billy Lee's return with Alexander.

They'd have the drive together, in close quarters, and no way for Alexander to escape. He would have a chance to talk to him. To persuade him to stop this campaign of retreat. Of burning the ground between them and salting the fields before he retreated.

He would plead with Alexander to give him a chance to make things right between them. To give him the chance to figure out how they could adapt to this.

He could not live without the boy in his life. Needed him like he needed air and now that he had him he wasn't willing to let his son— Alexander— walk away from him. He'd lost too much time with him already.

He heard a pair of heavy footsteps on the stairs and saw Billy Lee coming toward him— alone.

"Is he preparing himself to join us?" George prompted.

"No Sir." Billy Lee shook his head. "He has once again declined your request Sir. Said in most emphatic terms that he has no intention of coming to New Orleans."

"Most emphatic terms?" He asked.

Billy Lee swallowed. "He suggested that you might contort yourself into a position so that you could shove your head up your own arse Sir."

The last word was clipped. Cold. As if Billy Lee might just agree with Alexander.

"That—" He narrowed his eyes at Billy Lee. "Go and retrieve him."

"I cannot do that sir." Billy Lee said, his voice grim and his face neutral, his lips a flat line. "It's illegal for a slave to place hands on a free person. Even under orders from another free person."