CHAPTER FOUR — THE FIRST TEST

At breakfast, Ambrose announced that Catherine’s purchase would be charged against her personal allowance.
She let him finish, then asked why he had hired wagons for Friday.
His fork stopped beside his plate.
“I have made arrangements for surplus stock.”
“What stock?”
“Old household pottery.”
“I thought the kiln closed years ago.”
“It did.”
“Then why are the wares still here?”
Ambrose smiled at the servant standing near the door.
“Thomas, leave us.”
Thomas left without looking up.
Ambrose leaned toward Catherine.
“This is precisely why I wished you had stayed in Savannah.”
“The old house has obligations that cannot be satisfied by sentiment.”
“Are the bowls safe?”
Ambrose watched her carefully.
“Has that crippled man been filling your head with inventions?”
Catherine felt anger rise at the ease with which he reduced Elijah to an injury.


“He told me nothing about this conversation.”
“Then your questions are even more ridiculous.”
“I would like to inspect the kiln.”
“You would like to put yourself in danger by wandering around a ruined building.”
“It’s my estate.”
He rested his fork on the tablecloth.
“Then perhaps you would like to hear what happens when creditors learn its mistress cannot manage it.”
Catherine understood the threat beneath his polished voice.
He could destroy her reputation among men who already doubted her competence.
He could also order punishments against people who could not refuse him.
She pushed her plate away.
“I will not sign a bill of sale for pottery I have not inspected.”
Ambrose stared at her.
Then he rose and left the room without taking his breakfast.
Outside, Elijah was sweeping the carriage approach under a supervisor’s eye.


Catherine waited until the supervisor went to the stables.
“He knows we entered the east wing,” she told Elijah.
“He knew last night.”
“He’s moving the pottery on Friday.”
“We knew that too.”
“Do you have proof the glaze is dangerous?”
Elijah leaned his broom against the wall.
“Not proof that a man like Ambrose will admit.”
“What would he admit?”
“A customer complaining loudly enough to threaten the price.”
Catherine looked toward the empty carriage house.
“That sounds like another person with money.”
“Sometimes a person with money becomes useful when losing more of it frightens him.”
He explained that a free potter named Gabriel Finch operated a workshop in Milledgeville.
Gabriel had learned his craft beside Odessa’s brother and knew how to distinguish common yellow glazes from the hastily prepared mixture Whitmore had used.
He could compare samples by weight, color, and the way a surface reacted to vinegar and heat.
None of those observations alone would prove every illness, but together they could establish that someone knowingly sold questionable goods.
Elijah shook his head.
“Ambrose opens the outgoing post.”
“I can travel myself.”
“Then he will know where you went.”
“Does he watch everything?”
“He watches whatever might cost him something.”
Catherine considered the timetable.
The nearest market was on Wednesday.
She could travel there to inquire about household provisions without arousing suspicion if she did not bring Elijah openly.
She told him her plan.
He listened and then corrected it.
“Odessa is coming.”
“Ambrose won’t allow her to leave.”
“Odessa is the person who knows what those pots looked like before they were broken.”
“I know.”
“Then if you cannot get her there safely, I will not hand you the shards.”
Catherine stared at him.
She had spent her life watching men tell other people where to go.
Now an enslaved man was setting conditions for her help.
“All right,” she said.
“Odessa will come.”