Hindrances

Chapter 14

Yes, I was still angry at Mr Lancaster, but I didn't want to get revenge.
Bennett Wynn moved his lips against mine briefly, but I pulled away.
"No," I stated firmly.
"No?" He was severely confused.
"That's what I said. Get off of me."
Bennett Wynn untangled himself from me and stood up. Like a gentleman, he held his hand out and also helped me up.
"I-I thought you and Damien Lancaster had a disagreement..."
"We did."
Bennett's head tilted slightly to the side in confusion.
"One argument doesn't mean I'll go out and kiss other men."
"But wouldn't you want revenge?"
Bennett Wynn was still confused.
"I know him. One doesn't play the revenge game with the Mr Damien Lancaster."
He nodded in understanding, but he didn't seem happy about it.
"So... I have no chance?"
I was taken aback... He actually seemed upset.
"Correct."
"That's a shame. I have seen how he treats you, Miss Hemmings, and I don't see why you're still with him."

He knows?
Oh hell, I have nothing to be worried about. Mr Lancaster isn't abusive, he just has a short temper.

"What do you mean by 'how he treats me?'"
Perhaps I sounded too defensive.
"He isn't gentle with you. I hear him yell at you all the time. You even have bruises on your arm. I know those happened after you talked with my father. I also know you didn't automatically say yes, so I think that's the connection. While I would question your decision, I wouldn't have hurt you like that. Why do you let Lancaster hurt you like that?"
I could tell that Bennett was trying really hard to sound poliet. I could tell that he didn't want to start a fight.
I was still offended.
I take my role as fake fiancee very seriously.
"I love Damien. Yes, he loses his temper, but I do too. And I know he loves me back."

That was great acting! It almost seems like you believe it!

Of course not! It really is just great acting!

"Are you going to tell him? About... What I did?"
Poor Bennett. I actually felt bad for him. He really wasn't a terrible person.
"No, Damien doesn't need to know everything. Especially since it won't happen again."
"Of course, Miss Hemmings."
I just realized that I was still holding his hand from when he helped me up. I began to pull away, but he held it tightly.
"One moment, Miss Hemmings," he murmured. He pressed a long kiss on the back of my hand while staring at me.
"Okay, that's enough," I said while laughing.
Bennett gave me an easy smile and let go of my hand.
"We need to get back anyway. I'm all wet!"
"It's all your fault, Bennett Wynn! You tackled me!"
My dress was way too heavy. It always was, but now it's wet. Bennett helped me hold my skirts up and he escorted me into the house and up to my room.
"Thank you Bennett. You're a true gentleman!" I said while laughing.
"Anytime, my lady," he joked back.
Bennett opened the door for me and closed it behind me as soon as I entered.
Since I was alone, I decided that a dry pair of clothes would be the best.
"Oh hell, I forgot my shoes!" I laughed to myself.
I began to slowly strip out of my soggy clothes. It was damn near impossible. As I wrestled with the fabric, there was a knock on my door.

Was it Mr Lancaster?

I had no idea where he was, so I answered the door.
"Oh! Bennett!" I exclaimed as I tried covering myself up.
"Dear Miss Hemmings, don't worry about hiding yourself from me. I'm only here to return these."
He held out my shoes.
"Ah, thank you."
"May I come in?"
"No. I'm dressing."
"Do you need help?"
"No."
"Well, you can call on me anytime you need help taking your clothes off!" He said playfully and with a wink. I knew he wasn't serious, but my cheeks still burned up.
"Never!" And I closed the door.
I threw my shoes to the ground and continued to undress.
"I am thoroughly surprised you did not invite the poor boy in."
I yelped slightly.
"Mr Lancaster! How long have you been there?"
Mr Lancaster crawled out from under the bed.
Really?
God, he is so petty!
I rolled my eyes at him.
"Long enough."
"You really are a child."
"Why are you wet?"
I shook my head in annoyance. He was never known for his discreetness anyway.
"I was in a river."
"With Bennett Wynn."
"Possibly."
I turned around so my back would face him. I continued undressing. I could easily hear him approaching me from behind.
Again: not very discreet.
Mr Lancaster brushed one finger across the top of my spine. I turned around and swatted his hand away.
"Don't touch me," I scolded.
"But darling, you love it when I touch you," he tried charming me.
"This is from the last time you touched me," I showed him my bicep, "do you actually think I loved that?"
There were angry purple bruises (obviously shaped like fingers) that laid perpendicular to my old knife wound from my uncle.
I forgot about that scar, but it was healed, so I didn't think about it much.
"Amy-"
"It's Amelia." My temper was flaring up again.
"Amelia, you know I would never do that on purpose." Mr Lancaster seemed to tense up a bit.
"Whether or not it is on purpose, you still do it. I'm being to think that you like hurting me."
I know I mentioned that to him earlier, but he didn't hear me out last time.
"Of course not-"
"Then don't do it!"
Mr Lancaster kept tensing up as he took on all of my verbal assult. Finally, he forced himself to relax as he exhaled tersely.
"It is not as easy as you think-"
"Yes! Yes it is! If you don't like hurting me, then don't do it! It really is as simple as that!"
That was the third time I interrupted Mr Lancaster in this conversation. He was holding on to his patience by a thread.
"Maybe you should stop frustrating me so much," he hissed with as much control as he could.
I turned back around, continuing to undress. The damp dress was sending shivers all along my body.
"Alright, sir," I said flatly, giving up.
The fabric clung to my skin and slapped against the floor as I dropped each article of clothing.
Mr Lancaster's breathing wasn't normal, probably since he was livid.
"Did... Did he touch you?"
My eyebrows raised.
He seemed concerned, like, genuinely concerned.
"Why?" Perhaps I sounded too snappy.
"Because, I suppose, I just wanted to make sure you were alright, especially since Dayus-"
"Stop."
Throwing myself into my work helped me forget. I tried to not think about it. I would rather avoid it than confront it.
Bennett was nothing like Dayus Constantine. Though he didn't ask for my permission, he stopped when I asked. He didn't hold a gun to my head. He didn't threaten Mr Lancaster's life.
"I don't want hear you talk about that, Mr Lancaster," I finally said.
"Why? Do you trust Bennett Wynn more than you trust me?"
I turned around partly and gawked at him.
Jealous?
"Mr Lancaster, I don't trust Bennett Wynn."
"What about me?"
"I'm not sure."
Mr Lancaster's hands kept clenching and relaxing, like he was trying to get a grip on his temper.
"That is fine. It would probably be best if you did not trust me."
His voice was back to being his cold businessman voice.
"Please turn around, sir."
I was trying to be poliet, but I still had to take my clothes off.
Mr Lancaster did, but he hesitated.
For a moment, I looked at my naked body in the mirror. It was covered in old scars and new bruises. The knife scar slightly below my belly button reminded me of how this all started: Connor told me to get on his horse, and I did.
I trusted Connor in that moment.
I probably would have trusted anyone that wasn't Thomas Conway or his followers in that moment.
But Connor... He was consistently reliable. I was always able to turn to him.
"Is there a reason why you will not trust me?"
Mr Lancaster seemed far away. He barely seemed like he was even in this room.
"It's not that I won't... It's just I can't."
I left the mirror and grabbed a dry set of clothes. It was new: pretty, dark blue, with some silver trimming.
I've done an awful lot with that man, especially sexually. Why don't I trust him?
For every seemingly kind thing he has ever done, there was some sort of manipulation involved. Every fault of mine became a target for him. Every weakness I displayed, he exploited.

I'm going to stay with Uncle John and Celine for a bit when I get back. They shouldn't bother me too much if I give them money.

I don't know why I'm feeling this now.
"So, Miss Hemmings, have you considered Steven Wynn's offer?"
I appreciated the fact he tried changing the subject.
"I have been thinking about it."
"Miss Hemmings, I would like to tell you something about business." Mr Lancaster spoke evenly, his earlier frustration gone.
"Okay? You've been at this longer than me anyway."
Even with all of my doubts about Mr Lancaster, he certainly is a good businessman.
"You can help one client and the opposing client as well. If you just stay strictly business, I do not see a reason why you only have to help the South."
I let that sink in.
"So... Help the South and the North?"
"I would do that, yes."
Well...
I felt a small smile work its way on to my lips as I kept dressing myself.

Maybe... Oh, maybe, it's a wild idea...

"What if someone finds out?"
"It would not be considered betrayal, because to you it is only business, and you are not getting involved in personal matters."
"That... Actually isn't a bad idea..." I turned around, fully dressed now. "Mr Lancaster, let's sit. I'd like to have a discussion somewhere."
Picking up my cue, he turned around and looked at me...
...and looked at me, just for a split second longer than he had to.
Mr Lancaster quickly removed his gaze from me, so fast I almost didn't notice.
"Over here."
Mr Lancaster pull the dresser by the bed (the same one he pinned me down to only a night or two ago), and assembled two nearby chairs around it.
"Most Americans do not have closets because they are taxed on the number of doors they have in their house," Mr Lancaster stated matter of factly as we sat down. [1]
I just nodded, since I felt we had enough privacy as is.
"355,000 guns, Miss Hemmings. Where would you get all of that?"
"Remember that special list we have?" I said, referencing Venezuela.
"Of course."
"I've had people taking them back from Thomas Conway. I'm in control of many of them again. Near each port is a stock hold. There are several that are close enough to access quickly. The ones near major cities have the larger stocks."
"Would New Orleans happen to have one?"
I shot Mr Lancaster a sly smile.
"It certainly would."
"Do you want to deplete so many weapons for one war?"
"My parents owned several factories around the world. They never completely stopped after they died, so I'd be willing to bet that I have more than what is accounted for."
"355,000 is still quite a bit."
"What if I said I can offer them 340,000, and they can keep their 10 per cent and plantation?"
"Make it 5 per cent. You are still fulfilling the majority of their request."
"Okay... That's not bad. As long as I have access to this damn river, I will be fine."
"Alright, it is settled."
Mr Lancaster stood up and pulled out my chair while giving me a devious smirk. He held his hand out to me, and I took it.
"We have a war to lose, Miss Hemmings."

***
[1] I'm not sure if this varied by state. About two years ago, I toured the Lanier (luh-NEER) Mansion in Madison, Indiana. Lanier ended up loaning the Indiana government $1 million during the Civil War. But during that tour, it was mentioned that most people had dressers and cupboards instead of actual closets because of the door tax.