breeze anywhere. His back, under his shirt ran wetly and made him think of a bath in the little house on Tradd Street.
When he entered the Exchange, cotton was going for thirty-nine dollars a bale. He couldn't believe it. Bernard had been happy to sell at twenty-five. Before Nick turned to leave, the price had risen to forty dollars. When he arrived back at the docks, he saw that runners who went from ships to the Cotton Exchange all day long, had carried the news ahead of him. Forty dollars and rising!
Nicholas boarded a clipper from Liverpool and made the captain and cargo officer a deal. He offered them his cotton at forty dollars, but he'd also load it aboard for them this evening. "If you come out on deck, you can see it waiting at dockside."
"What's the catch?" asked his fellow Englishman.
"The draft you pay me with will have to stipulate gold. I don't deal in paper money."
"How about Sterling, British?"
"Good enough. Gold, silver, all the same to me."
"Tell you what, if you can get us a custom's clearance so we can sail by midnight, it's a deal."
Nicholas strode up to the customs shed at the end of the wharf and singled out a harassed-looking custom's officer. He put ten silver dollars into the man's hand and pointed him in the direction of the Lady Mersey.
Each bale was labeled Paradise Plantation.
"Paradise, eh?" commented the custom's officer as he verified the bill of lading.
"Closest to it I've ever found," Nicholas said with a grin. He gave his men the signal to start bringing the bales on board, then after the custom's officer departed, he pitched in himself, toting the bales up the gangplank.
When they were finished he would have preferred to send them straight back upriver to Paradise, but he knew they deserved rest and recreation. Since he was about to indulge himself for a couple of days, he could not deny them. He took them into a waterfront tavern and paid for two days food and board. Then he gave them each the price of a woman. "Brute, I'm counting on you to keep these boys in line. Try and keep fighting to a minimum. Stay close so you don't get picked up by the patrol," he warned.
"I'll stop 'em runnin' Mast' Nick, but who stop me?". He winked.
Nicholas showed his trust in them by shrugging. "You can go back to Paradise, or you can go to Hell!" He heard their laughter as his steps led him away in the direction of Tradd Street. He took Jason with him. He could act as body servant in Samuel's absence, but Nicholas took him for another reason. Solange had taken a fancy to the mulatto the first time she had seen him, and on subsequent visits a relationship had developed between the pair that Nicholas encouraged.
Nick hummed a tune as he ran up the brick steps to his house. It was the last day of September and he marveled at the intense heat. It would be a cool autumn day in England. He hadn't had time to visit Charleston in almost three months, and he blinked uncertainly as his eyes took in Solange's rounded belly.
She was happy to see Nicholas, but all her smiles were reserved for Jason, so Nick took himself upstairs for a cooling bath and a change of clothes. By the look of things, the two downstairs had some talking to do.
When he came downstairs the young couple were waiting to speak to him. Solange spoke first. "Ah would like your permission to marry."
Nicholas, trying for a light tone said, "You're free Solange, you don't need my permission. It's Jason here who needs my permission, and by the looks of things I have no choice."
They did not respond with laughter.
Solange said quietly, "Jason ain't the father o' ma chile."
Nick's mouth went dry. It couldn't be. They'd only been together that one time-- the night he'd bought her. Nothing had come out of that night, no desire for a liaison, not even a lingering romantic feeling. It had just happened. A single isolated incident. Just sequence and consequence.
Jason spoke up quickly, "Ah be a good father to the chile."
Nicholas looked
When he entered the Exchange, cotton was going for thirty-nine dollars a bale. He couldn't believe it. Bernard had been happy to sell at twenty-five. Before Nick turned to leave, the price had risen to forty dollars. When he arrived back at the docks, he saw that runners who went from ships to the Cotton Exchange all day long, had carried the news ahead of him. Forty dollars and rising!
Nicholas boarded a clipper from Liverpool and made the captain and cargo officer a deal. He offered them his cotton at forty dollars, but he'd also load it aboard for them this evening. "If you come out on deck, you can see it waiting at dockside."
"What's the catch?" asked his fellow Englishman.
"The draft you pay me with will have to stipulate gold. I don't deal in paper money."
"How about Sterling, British?"
"Good enough. Gold, silver, all the same to me."
"Tell you what, if you can get us a custom's clearance so we can sail by midnight, it's a deal."
Nicholas strode up to the customs shed at the end of the wharf and singled out a harassed-looking custom's officer. He put ten silver dollars into the man's hand and pointed him in the direction of the Lady Mersey.
Each bale was labeled Paradise Plantation.
"Paradise, eh?" commented the custom's officer as he verified the bill of lading.
"Closest to it I've ever found," Nicholas said with a grin. He gave his men the signal to start bringing the bales on board, then after the custom's officer departed, he pitched in himself, toting the bales up the gangplank.
When they were finished he would have preferred to send them straight back upriver to Paradise, but he knew they deserved rest and recreation. Since he was about to indulge himself for a couple of days, he could not deny them. He took them into a waterfront tavern and paid for two days food and board. Then he gave them each the price of a woman. "Brute, I'm counting on you to keep these boys in line. Try and keep fighting to a minimum. Stay close so you don't get picked up by the patrol," he warned.
"I'll stop 'em runnin' Mast' Nick, but who stop me?". He winked.
Nicholas showed his trust in them by shrugging. "You can go back to Paradise, or you can go to Hell!" He heard their laughter as his steps led him away in the direction of Tradd Street. He took Jason with him. He could act as body servant in Samuel's absence, but Nicholas took him for another reason. Solange had taken a fancy to the mulatto the first time she had seen him, and on subsequent visits a relationship had developed between the pair that Nicholas encouraged.
Nick hummed a tune as he ran up the brick steps to his house. It was the last day of September and he marveled at the intense heat. It would be a cool autumn day in England. He hadn't had time to visit Charleston in almost three months, and he blinked uncertainly as his eyes took in Solange's rounded belly.
She was happy to see Nicholas, but all her smiles were reserved for Jason, so Nick took himself upstairs for a cooling bath and a change of clothes. By the look of things, the two downstairs had some talking to do.
When he came downstairs the young couple were waiting to speak to him. Solange spoke first. "Ah would like your permission to marry."
Nicholas, trying for a light tone said, "You're free Solange, you don't need my permission. It's Jason here who needs my permission, and by the looks of things I have no choice."
They did not respond with laughter.
Solange said quietly, "Jason ain't the father o' ma chile."
Nick's mouth went dry. It couldn't be. They'd only been together that one time-- the night he'd bought her. Nothing had come out of that night, no desire for a liaison, not even a lingering romantic feeling. It had just happened. A single isolated incident. Just sequence and consequence.
Jason spoke up quickly, "Ah be a good father to the chile."
Nicholas looked
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