watched him shrug, then readied herself to monitor him sharply. "And after that I expect you were off drinking with the Council." She flashed a look of mock disapproval. "Doubtless passing yourself for a fine gentleman, as always?"
"I am a gentleman." He laughed and swung at her with a muddy boot, just missing as she sprang from the bed. "I just rarely trouble to own it."
"Aye, you're a gentleman, to be sure. And by that thinking I'm a virgin still, since I was doubtless that once too."
"So I've heard you claim. But that was back well before my time."
"You had rare fortune, darlin'. You got the rewards of years of expertise." She reached to pull on her brown linen shift. "And I suppose you'll be telling me next that Master Briggs and the Council can scarcely wait to settle your sight bills."
"They'll settle them in a fortnight, one way or another, or damned to them." He reached for his breeches, not the fancy ones he wore once in a while around the Council, but the canvas ones he used aboard ship, and the tone of his voice changed. "I just hope things stay on an even keel till then."
"I don't catch your meaning." She studied him openly, wondering if that meant he was already planning to leave.
"The planters' new purchase." He'd finished with the trousers and was busy with his belt. "Half of them are Yoruba."
"And, pray, what's that?" She'd thought he was going to explain more on the bit about leaving.
"I think they're a people from somewhere down around the Niger River delta."