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Rage flew through Jay. He balled his fists and took a step forward. How dare he? Urs and her father were good people, people who didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, especially for things over which neither had control.
“So, he was to ignore his feelings, what, for some ethereal potential future benefits to your people as a whole?” Jay’s teeth chattered as he spoke.
Bernard smiled, a hollow, bitter stretching of his lips. The breath flew from Jay’s chest as if he’d been punched as the man shook his head.
“You have no idea what it’s like, Mr. Truitt, to be barred from everything, to be forbidden from owning land, to never be permitted citizenship in the country of your birth, to be forced to leave your home because of who you were. America bestowed upon us things we’ve never had in Europe, without a price. Yet. But there’s always a price. When will you turn on us? For what reason? The fear is always there. Why tempt fate?”
Fair points, but hiding away, denying the existence of people like Urs’ mother and Urs herself, to project some sort of image? And didn’t Urs’ mother have the right to want some sort of life, some sort of happiness? Acid burnt his stomach at the thought.
“I don’t, but throwing away people who do not fall into some sort of—”
“How lovely it would be to have our criminals not reflect upon us, but that’s not where we live. We live in a fragile world. Every right is given only by the graciousness of people like you and any excuse—how many times has parliament yielded? How many times has emancipation been struck down due to arguments about people like Roseanna Simon? Our balance is quite delicate, Mr. Truitt, to survive amongst you, we must be valuable but docile, we must only benefit society, never demand too much, never take too many resources and even then, there are no guarantees we’ll receive anything but scraps.”
“But this is America.” In England or elsewhere in Europe, yes, but as Levy said, in America, they were no different than he. They could vote, own land, do what they wanted.
“You really believe that difference is so profound? If you do Mr. Truitt, you are as naïve as my brother-in-law.” Bernard drained his glass. “None of this is your concern—thank goodness. The girl technically owns the company as Judah didn’t trust me not to try to take it from her when he died.”
Levy squeezed his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. “You’ve done enough, taking her virginity and exposing her past. Since you’ve made her a pariah, at least here, there’ll be no threat of an unsuitable husband, so it’ll remain hers, until we can find her one from an advantageous European family—a Jewish one.”
r /> The expression he wore couldn’t be called a smile nor a glare, nor even a glower, it was something even more rancorous. This was resentment. Jay closed his eyes. How many times had he ignored—had he not thought—Levy had seen too much and now—
“You’ll be gone. Back to wherever your family sends you the next time.”
Jay’s mouth fell open. His hands shook. Levy couldn’t have told Urs, could he? Mercy, how she’d look at him when she found out he’d been in that place, tied to a bed for months.
“I know your cousins very well. The Levy family sold them our medicinal line of imports when we scaled back. I know exactly why the Hales are the largest in the market and not the Truitts and I gave them recommendations on where to send you.” He sniffed at Jay. “For someone as addled as you, your scheme wasn’t half bad. However, we all know where it’ll end.”
He narrowed his eyes at Jay. “You’re weak, Mr. Truitt, spoiled and weak like many of your people. You have no business here, not around anyone in my family, including my niece, who, as I’ve said, despite her mother, is Judah’s daughter and is a benefit in her own right. She deserves better—much better.”
Pressure seared through Jay’s head. The blood pumping in his chest boiled, but his heart thudded like it would explode, like he’d been stabbed and was bleeding, a gaping, open wound.
Levy stared at the window, not at him, as if he was not even there. “As weak as you are, she’s ten times stronger—Samson with all his hair. She’ll survive. She’ll forget about this whole affair and guard the business for my grandchildren.” His voice was grudging.
He closed his eyes, a signal that he dismissed Jay without acknowledging him.
Jay blinked over and over, the room spinning. He had to get rid of the torment. He fled up the stairs to his room and rifled through his bag until his palm hit what he wanted, what he needed.
His entire body shifted. Even just touching the items—the anticipation—he’d be all right soon. Everything would be all right. All he needed was a few minutes and he could be somewhere else.
A match. He had to find a match. He patted his pockets. Nothing.
He raced to the dresser and rifled through his luggage. Shirts and belts and handkerchiefs piled behind him as he searched. His skin prickled. He needed it. He needed it all now.
Leather and cloth and nothing else. The first case sailed across the room and bounced. He grabbed the next, the handle cutting into the soft flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Nothing. More nothing. He screamed into the air. A rushing sound invaded his ears.
He grabbed the nearest shirt and ripped, his nails scraping against his own flesh. Buttons clinked against the walls. Blood dotted the fine, white cotton. There went his other hand.
“You know, the servants could help you pack.”
He whirled around.
She was in the doorway, her face streaked with tears, her curls tumbling down over her shoulders. She was an absolute mess. Her sleeves were askew and drooping. Her face was red and blotchy and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her and cling to her and breathe and somehow they’d once again be all right.
“Urs.” He stared at her, still on his knees, in the midst of the carnage. Oh lord, he was so lost.
“I would’ve liked some advance notice.” Her voice was cold. “I don’t care to look like a fool.”
Being kicked by a horse would’ve been less painful. He was surprised he stayed upright.
