He raises his eyebrows inviting me to explain. “You know that how?”

“She told me as much.” My leg jitters again. I shake it to stop.

His lips pinch and his eyes flatten. “When did you have occasion to discuss striking off west together?”

My dry mouth sticks when I open it. “I’m very fond of her, sir. As she’s fond of me. I’ve seen much of her in the time I’ve been here and… and…”

“Now you want to take her with you.”

I lay my hand on the bundle of money and inch it forward. “Yes, sir.”

He taps his desk first with one finger and then drums with all four. “I gave no credit to what Mulch said about you sneaking off with her. Now I see I may have been hasty to dismiss him.”

“No, sir. Mulch was a bad apple. Abusive and—”

“I believe I told you when you first arrived that I don’t condone slave bedding, but all this time you’ve been whoring with her right under my nose.”

“No. That’s not how it is. I mean to marry Sarah, Mister Johnson. I need you to take this money so we can be on our way.”

His mouth hangs open as the color drains from his face.

“That’s seven hundred and eighty,” I say. “But I can make it eight hundred, if you like, and we’ll just go quietly.” I pull more money out of my wallet.

He watches me do it, finally looking at the money and then back at me.

“Tell me how much.” I add another twenty dollars to the pile.

“Good God,” he says, “you actually want to make my slave your wife!”

My stomach drops and I go cold. I see in his face that I’ve made a terrible slip trying to get him to understand. I should have told him I was buying a house.

A blotchy red creeps up his neck and into his face. “Your wife!”

“I know it isn’t as if we could marry,” I say. “I didn’t mean—”

“Have you lost your mind?” He slams his hands on the desk and stands, sending the chair toppling.

“When I met Sarah—”

“This is the most immoral proposal ever put to me!”

I stand, facing him eye to eye, both of us puffing. I am panicked, feeling this slip from me. “I love her,” I say. “Please.”

His eyes are wild and I think he’s going to strike me. “You are a vile and depraved man.”

His insults roll off me. They don’t matter. I need to stay calm or I’ve lost. “Mister Johnson. Sir. Sarah and I—”

“Damn you!” he shouts. “There is no Sarah and I. God made the races to be separate. Each after its kind. He smote them at the Tower when they tried to mix, and, by God, Virginia will smite you with a lynch rope if you try that here.”

“Please. We’ll leave. You’ll never see us again.”

“You may not buy my slave, Mister Taylor. I will not sell her to you at any price.”