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Not any other planter's
privileged, indolent son with his eye on marrying an heiress. Not Satan
himself. Camille formed the very heart of his plan. He couldn't enact it
without her.
    Everything Adam had done since that first day at
Briarwood, everything he had become, had been for one reason: revenge. Not a
swift revenge settled by sword or pistol, but a long, tortuous revenge like the
slow oozing of blood from a tiny puncture wound. Until he destroyed Dominick
Spencer, the planter who had made his life a horrible nightmare during his
eleven years of indenture, the man responsible for the senseless deaths of his
parents, he would never be at peace.
    Perhaps he would find no peace even then. His body,
mind, and heart bore permanent scars from Dominick's cruel abuse. He would
never forgive, or forget.
    Just to be standing here among these prosperous
merchants and planters, and treated as an equal, had taken years of
backbreaking work. He had come a hell of a long way since his days as an
indentured servant laboring in the tobacco fields with a hoe in his callused
hands.
    Within two years as an overseer at Briarwood, he had
been elevated to plantation manager and James Cary's trusted right-hand man,
yet that hadn't been enough for him. He had worked even harder and become
renowned as a crop master, a man possessing superior judgment in the production
of tobacco, a man called upon for advice by other planters even though he owned
no land himself.
    This title had won him respect and entrance into the
Tidewater's highest social circles, but it still wasn't enough. Only when he
possessed his own plantation would he have the wealth he needed to set into
motion his plan for revenge, and he wanted Briarwood, one of the richest and
most fertile plantations along the York River.
    There was only one way to get it: Camille.
    Upon hearing that she had finally been summoned home to
Virginia, Adam hadn't been surprised when James Cary had given him permission
to court her; the planter had been pleased that Adam had asked, saying he would
wholeheartedly recommend the match to Camille when she arrived. James had taken
a liking to him and had always treated him like a son, having lost his own two
young sons many years ago. Adam had used this affection to his advantage. He
had done everything in his power to prove to the planter that he could be
trusted, that he was worthy to be considered as a suitor for his daughter, and
as damn good as any other man who might offer for her.
    At first, considering his motives, Adam had experienced
some guilt for the strong bond that had developed between them, but it had
faded in the knowledge that when he owned Briarwood, he would respect and care
for the house and land as well as James Cary had and make it prosper as never
before. Adam had allowed himself to grow close to his employer, as close as he
had been to anyone since the death of his parents.
    Only a few months after Adam had received permission to
court Camille, James Cary had been killed in a hunting accident, or so it had
been concluded by the county constable. Although Adam had no proof, he believed
it was murder. Now he had another score to settle with Dominick Spencer.
    He had seen the two men arguing heatedly the day before
the "accident," and had already learned from James that Dominick also
wished to court his daughter, a desire James vehemently opposed. James Cary had
made no secret of his intense dislike for the man, especially after seeing the
jagged, crisscrossing scars from numerous whippings that were permanently
etched across Adam's back.
    Adam's suspicions about Dominick Spencer made him all
the more impatient to woo Camille quickly and marry her. He would let nothing,
and no one, least of all that conniving bastard, stand in the way of his
revenge.
    "Careful, man, you're crushing the passenger
list!"
    Robert Grymes's exclamation pierced Adam's dark
reverie. He opened his tightly closed fist and handed the crumpled document to
the