I concentrated on him but was too far to read anything about him the way I had Nell.
"Are we going there?" I asked, indicating a small market at the edge of town.
"Indian and local goods?" Nell shook her head firmly. "We only buy European goods and those brought here from Boston. It's not fitting for a woman of your station to be seen at an Indian market."
"Nell." I sighed. "Please? I really want to go see."
"See what?"
"What I missed while gone."
Nell pursed her lips together but parked the carriage close to the edge of town, in front of a tailor's shop.
I managed to get out of the carriage with some grace and brushed the wrinkles out of the dress Nell probably spent hours ironing. She handed me a pouch that jingled, an indication they thought my sense present enough to give me some money. I observed the downtown area with a smile. It smelled funky, of horses, smoke, people and waste, but I was seeing something no one in my time had.
"Josie, my cousin."
I turned and glanced at the man who was little taller than me with cold, blue eyes, a mustache and a suit that looked new. He approached, followed by two other men. He was the man from Nell's thoughts.
My empathic memory kicked in when he was within arm's reach. I saw his and Nell's and suspected the empathic memory chip was activated by proximity. The images began flowing when he was within arms reach, and I watched them. I had been fascinated by Nell's memories, but those that flowed from this man were disturbing: of the time he'd slapped real-Josie when she was thirteen and tried to rape her when she was seventeen. He viewed me with desire and contempt and John with absolute disdain.
Taken aback by the images, I realized Nell's suspicion wasn't misplaced.
"Philip," I replied.
"You look different," he said, studying me with a frown. "I was worried my ill uncle had been taken advantage of by some … harlot." His eyes went down my body as he spoke, and they rested on my breasts.
Bad man. The images in my mind seemed to confirm that. He wasn't thinking about Josie's naked body but the small frame of another woman struggling to escape him while he choked her out.
"Still beating and raping your servants?" I asked, frowning. Before Philip, it hadn't occurred to me that the empathic memories would also show me the kinds of secrets and sins that people generally didn't want known. Or maybe a man like this didn't have reason to care in an era when women didn't have many rights.