The glower leaves his face, and with the help of the drink, Philby manages a lopsided sneer for a smile. She may have given in too easily, and that would normally leave him suspicious, but he does not want confrontation but acquisition; and that he has. So be it. “Good, dearest, very good, then. I will make all travel arrangements. Shall we say three days hence? Good, good. I hear that Doctor Bent has an interest with their church. Perhaps he intends to be there also? I shall send him a note to the fact that you are going and he may wish to accompany. Traveling alone is so fraught with danger for…”
At the mention of Doctor Regis Bent, Leah allows her husband’s contrived monologue to fade into the background and the smiling countenance of the good doctor to capture her thoughts. It is with no small amount of self control, that Leah allows such day-dreaming without any outward sign of her quickly arousing state showing in her calm demeanor. Just the idea of traveling with Regis Bent leaves her almost breathless and with a pleasant but inconvenient warmth growing in her lower abdomen and between her legs. Out of the corner of her eye she watches her husband draining his glass with a relish. The room is getting much too warm, and her position much too uncomfortable. She rises from the chair and moves to the door, “Well, husband, I know you are busy, and if I am to leave in the next several days, I have much to do also. I had best be about my business.” She acts as if to leave then turns back in afterthought, “You may ask Doctor Bent if he intends to travel to the fundraiser, but, I dare say, he is much too busy to be worried about accompanying me and my schedule. Leave the poor man to his work and I will take care of myself, thank you.” She stands at the door with calm indifference.
“My dear, Doctor Bent has no greater concern than the tasks I might request of him. If I ask, he had best find time. You leave him to me.”
With her thin smile in answer, Leah passes through the doorway, down the hallway to the back stairs, and ascends to her room on the second floor. She holds herself steady until the door is safely closed and locked behind her, before allowing herself an immodest shiver of delight. She quickly pulls her dress away and moves to the basin on the night stand. She daintily splashes water to her face with cupped hands. She wets a washcloth and sponges her hot body around her underclothes. It is then she notices the wetness between her legs, and with a shaky incredulity at her lust, reaches down with the wet cloth to wipe away her desire.
When Justin Thorne, coddled student and heir apparent to Sylvan Springs Plantation, is forced to find his heritage, his manhood, and his destiny, in the space of one brief spring, all hell breaks loose on the banks of the Ohio River. His Virginia of 1836 is a time of transition and enormous growth. Northern industrial might and southern aristocracy, abolitionist movements and slave cultures, collide in turmoil and lay bare the raw needs and desires of those intrepid spirits confronting the frontiers of the antebellum South. Coming of age is an expected result of time and circumstance. It happens to all who live so long, but to each within the dictates of their own lives. The process is on-going and ever dynamic. Every person is a precious product resulting from the effects of nature and nurture. One’s ancestry, culture, and environment collude in myriad ways to make us; all as different as each life’s story, and as singular as snowflakes. This theme is played out over-and-over throughout the world and throughout history, in millions of places like Holderby’s Landing; as similar and as different as each human is to the other. Holderby’s Landing is a single glimpse in time at the coming of age of a land, a community, and a few determined souls thrown together in love, strife and chance. What they make of the time, the opportunities and themselves is the story told and the living breath of this book.
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Genre – Historical Fiction
Rating – PG-13
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