Read Empire for Free Online

McRae nodded gratitude and performed a brief curtsy.
    “Of course,” continued Fauquier, “I cannot guarantee that your daughter will return
here
for an engagement. As delightful as they are, I do not put on very many of these concerts.” He glanced at the girl across the ballroom. Etáin stood by her harp in a circle of admirers. “But, you may rest assured that if I can fit her in at some point in the future, she will open the program, not conclude it.”
    “You are too generous, your honor,” said Madeline McRae.
    In the course of the evening, Hugh stepped outside to tour the Palace yard with its stables, coach house, and gardens. He heard a step behind him and turned. He was shyly approached by the red-haired musician who had performed with the Governor. He smiled at Hugh as though he were about to address a mystery, or a legend.
    “You are Mr. Hugh Kenrick, I believe,” he said.
    “I am, sir.”
    The light from a nearby cresset flickered over an intense, freckled, eager face that seemed to be struggling with a question. Then the musician said, “I have heard that you freed your slaves.”
    Hugh grinned, uncertain whether he was being congratulated or accused. “I did not free them, sir, although that was the consequence, and the object of my actions.”
    “And you are the same man who built a device to water his crops, and persuaded his town to lay brick walkways along its principal street?”
    “I am the same.” Hugh did not wonder that his conduit was common knowledge, but was startled that the stranger regarded the walkways as anotable item of interest. It had taken the vestrymen of Caxton more than a year to approve of the idea. In exchange for the amenity, they had agreed to exempt Meum Hall from parish tithes for five years. But the refurbished kiln, under brickmaster Henry Zouch’s skillful and productive labors, was earning Hugh more income. Much of the brick was not only being used to repair some of the great houses of Caxton and for the construction of new houses for Reece Vishonn’s married children, but bound pallets of them were being loaded aboard coastal vessels for delivery to customers up the York River and on the James.
    “You are a man of many radical parts,” commented the musician. “You are also a planter, are you not?”
    Hugh nodded. “Yes. I am master of Meum Hall.”
    “‘Meum Hall,’” mused the young man. “‘My hall,’ or ‘My home.’ I like it. Someday, I hope to have a chance to name my own abode.”
    “A proper name for one’s home deserves as much serious thought as the name of a child, or the title of a book.” Hugh studied the face and figure of the musician, who seemed to be the same age as he.
    “It is a distinctive name.” The stranger paused. “I have also heard that you are the son of a baron, and the nephew of an earl.”
    Hugh said, “I neither advertise nor exploit those facts, sir.”
    “May I ask why not?”
    “They are more a burden than a benefit, if truth be known. I have always striven to escape their influence.”
    The musician commented on the success of the concert, and praised Etáin McRae. The two men talked for a while on that subject. At length, Hugh said, “Although I helped her choose her music, it occurred to me this evening that Mr. Handel’s
Coronation Anthem
seemed an inappropriate piece to perform at this time.”
    “I had not heard it until this evening,” said the musician. “It is mainly choral, is it not?”
    Hugh nodded. “With a proper orchestra. I heard it performed once in London, at the King’s Theater, not long ago.”
    “Then it must have a libretto, a spoken leitmotif.”
    “Yes,” said Hugh. “‘Let thy hand be strengthened…Let thy right hand be exalted.’ There are more lines that concern justice, mercy, judgment, and truth. Mr. Handel wrote it to celebrate the accession of His Majesty’s grandfather.”
    “I envy you for having heard it in a true concert theater.” The young manpaused.