Kyleson deserves a reward

Dear Diary, (May 22nd)

Already I am wondering if my decision to pay Mr. Kyleson a private visit might have been a miscalculation.

After my restless night, I ate a light breakfast in the morning room and bid Mr. Thornton a good day as he rode off to Charlston to attend to his business. Once left to my own devises I decided that I must at least thank Mr. Kyleson for his most timely arrival yesterday and the decisive way he dealt with my brute of a cousin.

I found Mr. Kyleson in the stables attending to the delivery of the grey palfry that was to be sent to Priscilla Manton according to the provisions of my father's will. The Irishman was clearly surprised by my sudden appearance in his domain, and I was quick to try to put him at ease with a smile.

“Might I have a word in private, Mr. Kyleson?” I remember feeling a moment of disquiet at way he led me in silence to what I must be a tack-room where the various leather harnesses and saddles were repaired, and polished. The room smelled of sawdust, neatsfoot oil, leather and sweat. It was, I remember thinking as I followed Sean into the room, a decidedly manly scent so different from the lavender of my bedchambers. Kyleson pulled a kerchief from his pocket and dusted off the wooden stool that sat by a heavy, wood plank table that had a few pieces of harness neatly stacked to one side.

“Have a seat, Miss.” The man seemed a little uneasy as he tucked away his yellowed scrap of linen. “Had you sent word Miss, I would have been happy to attend to you up at the Master Heyward's house.”

__

It is my house now, no longer my father's, but I came to the barns to thank my plantation manager, not chide him.

“I came to thank you, Mr. Kyleson ... for yesterday.” For the first time, I see a hint of a smile on the man's face.

“That, Miss DiFlorentini, was my pleasure.” The way Sean rubbed his powerful hands together reminded me of just how strong this man is. “I've been looking for an excuse to punch that snooty bastard for years now - pardon my language.”

“All the same, Mr. Kyleson,” I slid from the stool and moved to where he stood and took his hand in mine. “I was in a particularly precarious position, and you were my knight-in-shining-armor.”

“You should be careful, Miss, about being alone with a man.” His Irish brogue was more pronounced as he looked down at me. “A man might well take advantage of the situation, especially if that man knows you're the daughter of a colored ****.” I remember looking up at my overseer with growing alarm when I heard those words. I tried to pull away from Kyleson, but his hand tightened around my fingers effectively trapping me in his grasp. “I knew your mother, Miss. She was the prettiest fancy-maid I'd ever set eyes on, except now maybe for you ...”

This was not all that different from what I resolved to do last night but now that I was there in that small room alone with Mr. Kyleson, I was less sure that I was doing the right thing.