Love in Three-Quarter Time by Dina Sleiman Page A

still open. We can sit on the porch and you can help me strategize. I’ll follow you in a moment.”
    â€œExcellent plan. Looks as if you need all the help you can get, my friend.” Terrence leapt back onto his horse with the smooth sweep of a Virginia gentleman and trotted toward the sprawling Montgomery Manor.
    Robbie surveyed the white walls and encircling verandah.
His
house, left to him by his beloved father along with the debt attached. He couldn’t lose it. He struck his hoe deep into the soil to finish this last section before joining Terrence.
    Terrence was correct. Robbie needed all the help he could get. He never expected so many of his servants to leave. But the lure of complete freedom—even with the opportunity to be paid servants rather than slaves—proved too strong for them.
    He surveyed the field again and shook his head. Whom did he hope to fool? He could never leave here in one week, let alone two. Not that his activities in Princess Anne were any less important than running the farm. He might have to move his participation closer to home for a time, although that option held its own risks. But he had no choice. He couldn’t turn this disaster over to Jimbo. Not yet.
    Yes, Robbie needed help. So much so that he’d been tempted to pray. He had even allowed Jimbo and the others to offer petitions for the place.
    But Robbie believed God helped those who helped themselves. He’d never felt comfortable bothering God with his petty problems. Surely as the supreme being of the entire universe, God had more important issues with which to concern himself. Robbie made this decision, and he would make it work—somehow.
    The house. The fields. The servants. The loan. And those were suddenly only half his troubles.
    Miss “Gingersnap” Cavendish of Prince George County now resided at White Willow Hall. Unthinkable! He almost wished he’d managed the expense and left Montgomery Manor open. Perhaps he could stay at the house quietly without the servants noticing. But they’d be sure to see the fire and feel obligated to tend him.
    Maybe if Constance kept her hair tucked in that prim chignon and her face plain as it had been last night, he could somehow survive a week. But two? And would that even suffice, or would he be trapped in Albemarle the entire summer? If he grew desperate enough, he’d move into an abandoned slave shack and be done with it.
    He had left behind that spoiled, temperamental chit long ago. Why must she come flouncing back into his life now, of all times? He would never forget the searing hatred in her eyes when she spoke that night about runaway slaves and abolitionists.
    Her eyes. Her beautiful eyes. Brown on the surface with golden candlelight snapping in the background. He recounted the numerous times he had lost himself in those eyes. Skimmed his fingers through the satin curls about her face, dreamed of her hair flowing like what he always dreamed of as a river of liquid fire over his skin.
    Robbie smashed his hoe harder into the ground and pushed Miss Cavendish out of his imagination. So he had loved the girl. What of it? He had been young and foolish. When he saw her true character revealed, it was too late to save her, as she had begged him to do.
    His heart sank in his chest. Yes, she’d begged him to marry her. To rescue her home and her family, and he’d turned her down. He wanted to help her, had even offered her money. But the stubborn girl refused it. He couldn’t tell her the truth. She would never understand. And he couldn’t live a lie for the rest of his life.
    If she knew the truth, she would never marry him.
    If she knew the truth, she would spit in his face.
    And hang him by his neck from the nearest tree if she had her way.
    * * *
    â€œStand straight. Heels together and toes parted like such.” The lessons began on Monday because Constance and the entire family had traveled to Charlottesville for