by Phoebe Conn
“You’re right,” she stressed as she reached out to take Raven’s hand. “Alex meant for you to succeed him as earl. It’s Alex’s wishes that ought to be respected regardless of what the technicalities of the law might be. I’ll not ask Mr. Nash, or anyone else about it. You are now the earl and that’s all there is to it. I didn’t mean to insult you, Raven. Please forgive me that I did.”
Although he was relieved beyond measure that Eden had made such a sensible decision, that she had again cited Alex’s wishes as her reason disgusted him completely. Was she never going to appreciate him herself, but instead always rely on Alex’s judgment of him? He gave her hand a perfunctory squeeze, but he was so discouraged his expression was still an obstinate one when they arrived at Alistair Nash’s office.
Raven had been coming there for nearly twenty years, and in all that time the elderly gentleman had not changed one bit. He was barely five feet tall, and had to hook the heels of his shoes on the rung of his chair to prevent his spindly legs from dangling a foot from the floor like a small child’s. His sparse white hair stuck out from his pale head in wispy clumps like a bizarre halo, giving him a comic appearance no matter what his mood, but his bright blue eyes shone with intelligence, and his greeting was sincerely warm.
“I am pleased to see you looking so fit, my lord, and to meet you, my lady. I was badly distressed to learn of Alex’s passing. He was like a son to me, you know, as was his father.”
Eden would not have been surprised had Alistair sworn a similar affection for Alex’s grandfather as well. She was certain he had to be ninety at the very least, and wondered why Raven had not remarked on the man’s advanced age. He had Alex’s will ready to read, and donned a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles for the task. While he and Raven were familiar with the wording, she had to sit on the edge of her chair and strain to understand Alistair’s high-pitched, mumbling recitation. When he reached the end and set the document aside, she nodded thoughtfully.
Still in the foulest of moods, Raven took a perverse pleasure in goading his bride into breaking her word. “Is there anything that’s unclear to you?” he asked. “I’m sure Alistair would be happy to answer any questions you have.”
Eden could readily discern from the taunting light in Raven’s eyes that he was presenting her with a test. That he still did not trust her was unfortunate, but she had absolutely no desire to leap to her feet and challenge his right to be earl. Wars had been fought over which man had the right to a title or throne and she certainly didn’t want any such derisive contest going on in her own family.
“Why no, I’m certain everything is in order.”
Raven still did not smile. Like everyone else, Alistair believed him to be Alex’s nephew. That he had inherited Alex’s title and all his worldly goods was as it should be in the attorney’s view, but as he had on so many occasions, Raven felt like an impostor. He sat up abruptly then, and forced himself into the uncomfortable role of a fine gentleman.
“I’d like for you to draw up a new will for me,” he began. “The previous one left everything to Alex should I predecease him. The new one should leave everything to my beloved wife, Eden, and whatever dear little children we might have.”
“I shall begin immediately,” Alistair promised. “Please allow me to congratulate you on your marriage and offer my hopes that the children you mentioned will soon become a reality.”
When Eden began to blush, Raven’s anger dissolved in an unaccountable rush of fatherly pride. “Do you mind?” he asked her.
“No, go ahead,” Eden encouraged.
“Our first child will be born next spring.”
“Well, that is good news!” Alistair’s smile grew broader still. “You must bring the little fellow to see me as soon as you can. Do you remember coming here with Alex? You were such a solemn child, all eyes it seemed then.”
Raven could recall being that child all too easily. He rose to his feet and reached for Eden’s hand. “We appreciate your good wishes. We’ll be returning to the plantation in a few days. I’ll stop by to sign the new will before we leave.”
“I’ll have it ready, my lord.”
Raven breathed a sigh of relief as they left Alistair’s office. The visit had gone remarkably well, but he could not shake the horrible feeling that if Eden ever discovered he was not really Alex’s nephew, there would be hell to pay.
Chapter Twenty-Two
October 1863
Eden wanted to focus her attention on the sights of Kingston as they returned to the Jamaican Wind, but Raven made no attempt to provide either information or entertainment. Instead, he kept his thoughts to himself as though he were traveling alone rather than with a lovely young woman who was all too aware of him.
When she could bear no more of his stony silence, Eden moved closer and looped her arm through his. “Raven, there’s a vast difference between a question and an accusation so I wish you’d stop acting like I’ve committed some heinous crime. You and Alex were closer than most fathers and sons and I’m certain that even if he had lived long enough for us to have half a dozen sons he would still have wanted you to inherit his title. That you were his choice was spelled out quite clearly in his will. We needn’t discuss this issue ever again and I’d appreciate your ceasing to condemn me for bringing it up.”
Raven found it difficult to return Eden’s level gaze. He knew he was behaving badly, but it was far easier to cling to a stubborn silence than to speak and embellish the fanciful lie that Alex had begun the first time he had introduced him as his nephew. Despite his passion for the truth, Raven did not even consider admitting it about himself when he knew how disgusted Eden would be to discover she was married to a man Alex had rescued from the Kingston streets. That he could pass as a gentleman was no more than a trick of fate that had given him a handsome appearance, and Alex’s diligent tutoring.
“Alex often complained that I lack proper manners,” Raven reminded her. “But you mustn’t allow my faults to prevent you from speaking your mind. I would rather that we had ten bitter arguments each day than have us get along by skirting every issue of any importance.”
Raven’s features were still set in a sullen frown, but Eden considered his words encouraging even if his expression was not. “We didn’t have a single fight last week at the plantation. In fact, we got along better than I ever thought we could. I want that kind of happiness for us always.”
“So do I,” Raven was quick to agree, for he recalled the previous week as fondly as she did. The possibility of living a lie for the rest of his life made him horribly uncomfortable, but the prospect of losing Eden’s respect, and whatever small chance he had of winning her love, made telling the truth an impossible alternative.
When they arrived at his ship, Raven had work to do, and taking care to stay out of his way, Eden also remained on deck. The day was warm and the activity on the docks was lively enough to hold her interest but her thoughts strayed frequently to her husband. Raven could be so charming at times, and at others so withdrawn she feared he might be hiding some terrible secret. When he suddenly appeared at her side, she was relieved to find him wearing a smile. He was easily the most puzzling individual she had ever met, and yet when he was pleasant, she found him wonderfully appealing.
Her mood now far more relaxed, Eden made what she hoped Raven would find a considerate suggestion. “As soon as we get home, let’s begin making plans for your birthday. It was so easy to entertain my father and his men with your staff’s help, I’d like to plan a nice evening for your friends.”
Surprised that she wished to give a party, Raven rested his forearms on the rail as he explained why it was impractical. “Most of my friends are on board this ship and they don’t expect to be entertained in my home. Alex didn’t really mix with the owners of the neighboring plantations, so I’d not invite any of them. Besides, I think a birthday celebration might be considered highly inappropriate when we should still be in mourning.”
Eden had wanted
to please Raven, to do something especially for him that had nothing to do with Alex, but she understood his concerns. Grateful he had not sounded critical, she revised her idea aloud. “If we must, we’ll have a party all by ourselves then, but I want the day to be a special one for you. A man only turns twenty-seven once.”
“Don’t you think that ought to be enough?” Raven joked easily.
“Yes,” Eden agreed, enormously pleased his mood had turned good.
“You usually rest in the afternoon when we’re at home. I think that’s a habit you ought to continue here.”
Eden shook her head. “I’m not in the least bit tired.”
“Neither am I,” Raven confided as he took her arm. “But let’s go to my cabin anyway.”
Raven was again displaying the quicksilver nature that kept Eden constantly in a quandary in her attempts to understand him, but she hesitated no more than an instant before placing her hand over his in a silent gesture of consent. Earlier that afternoon his anger had unnerved her completely, but the affection he offered now was far too sweet to refuse.
The goods Raven had brought from England were swiftly sold, and although he had kept several bolts of silk and brocade for Eden to have made into new gowns, she surprised him by complaining she had too many clothes already. She kept the fabric at his insistence, but said she would save it until after the baby was born.
“I suppose Yadira is a wonderfully talented seamstress,” Eden remarked with the sarcasm that always crept into her voice when she mentioned the housekeeper.
“No, she considers sewing beneath her. There are several women on the plantation who are very talented, though. I’ll give you that tour I promised the day after we return home. You’ll meet them then. Perhaps you’d like to ask them to make some baby clothes.”
“Not until after the new year.”
Seemingly preoccupied, Eden turned away, leaving Raven to wonder if she might not also be worried about her babe’s health. If she had not realized the child she was carrying might share Alex’s heart defect, it would be cruel to point it out and frighten her. Then again, if she was agonizing over such a terrible possibility, it seemed equally cruel to allow her to do so alone. Unable to decide what was the wisest course, he stepped up behind her and kissed her nape tenderly. When she relaxed against him, he kept his fears for Alex’s babe to himself. It was merely one more secret of the many he dared not share.
After a week-long stay in Kingston, the Jamaican Wind carried Eden and Raven back to the plantation on the Rio Bueno, along with one hundred barrels of coal Raven had decided might prove useful should the Southern Knight again need their help. As soon as the coal was unloaded, Randy MacDermott took the helm, and the ship returned to Kingston, where it would remain for the winter. As promised, the next day Raven had Arabella, their cook, pack a picnic lunch, and once Eden was comfortably seated in the buggy, they began the long delayed tour.
The first of the sugar cane fields was not far from the house, and with Raven providing a running commentary, they proceeded along the road to the mill, where the cane was ground to extract the juice. Next they visited one of the boiling houses, where the juice was boiled with lime to reduce it to a thick syrup. Raven showed Eden how the brown sugar was crystallized out, leaving molasses.
“We ferment most of the molasses and distill it to make rum. It’s a highly profitable business, but it takes a great deal of labor.”
After leaving the curing house, where the hogshead barrels of rum were stored, they returned to the buggy. Raven clucked to the horses and the matched pair of bays got them under way again. While he had shown Eden how sugar cane was processed, there was something far more important he wanted her to understand.
“When the slaves were freed, they were forced to put in a three-year apprenticeship and had to work for their former owners for pay. After that, most fled the plantations, but William, Alex’s father, had always treated his slaves well and made a bargain with them. He divided the plantation to give each some land of his own to farm in exchange for a promise that they would spend part of their time working for him, but he paid them honest wages for that work. He set up a school so that all the children, plus anyone else who wanted to learn, could get an education. Most of his neighbors thought him a fool, or just plain despised him for supporting emancipation, but he was able to keep the plantation running without resorting to using indentured laborers.”
Raven paused for a moment, choosing his words with care. “The Africans had lost everything when they were brought here, their language, customs, and family ties as well. William felt responsible for their welfare and didn’t want them to lose everything again. He thought by keeping them here, he could make certain they had better lives than the poor souls who ran off to live in the hills. He helped them build houses, and provided medical care. None of his people disappointed him either. While most of the freed slaves had nothing but their freedom, the people here had that and their dignity as well.”
“Raven, please,” Eden interrupted. “I told you my family has never owned slaves. You needn’t feel you must justify William’s actions to me.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Raven countered impatiently. “I think William was right. Slavery was wrong, but to turn slaves free with no education, no place to go, and no means to support themselves was even more evil. He repaid his people several times over for the free labor they had given him as slaves. I never knew him, but Alex used to speak of him often and always with deep affection and admiration.”
They had now reached the fields where ginger was grown for its aromatic roots and others planted with Jamaican pepper whose berries were dried and ground to make allspice. Raven then left the main road for a far-less-traveled lane that wound its way toward the river through uncultivated land still covered with lush, tropical vegetation.
Continuing to be an informative guide, he pointed out several of the Jamaican hardwoods: mahogany, ebony, mahoe, and juniper. There were stands of dogwood, and cedar logwood from whose yellow flowers a vivid dye was made. Among the ferns and bamboo, a profusion of orchids bloomed in a myriad of hues. Overhead brightly colored parakeets, hummingbirds, and butterflies darted in and out of the trees.
Eden found Jamaica’s beauty absolutely magnificent and told Raven so repeatedly. “This is like a trip through paradise. Where are we having our picnic?”
Relieved she had not found any of his comments offensive, Raven regarded his bride with a sly smile. “Are you hungry? It’s not much farther, and it’s such a pretty spot it’s worth the trouble to get there.”
“It can’t be any more beautiful than this.”
“You’ll see.”
Raven left the horses tethered within sight of the river and then, taking Eden’s hand, carried their basket down a seldom-used trail that curved upward away from the river before ending in a sylvan glade. At the center, a creek running toward the river spilled over an outcropping of moss-covered rocks to form a small, but utterly charming waterfall. A rainbow glistened in the air above it like a sparkling crown.
“Oh Raven, this must surely be the prettiest place on earth.”
While Eden’s rapt expression mirrored her delight, Raven forced back the desire to kiss her and busied himself laying out their tablecloth and lunch. He was happy that he had pleased her, and yet still apprehensive that her opinion of him might change once her child was born. Such conflicting emotions troubled him constantly, but he did not know what to do about them.
“I’ve always thought so. Now come sit down, I’m hungry even if you aren’t.”
Arabella had packed roast chicken, sweet rolls, banana slices sprinkled with coconut, and crisp ginger cookies. Raven opened the bottle of wine and poured Eden the two sips he knew she would drink while he filled his own mug to the rim.
“How did you happen to find this place?” Eden asked between bites of chicken.
“It’s near the spot where Azariah and I used to cut bamboo and build rafts. Whe
n I was a child, rafting on the river was what I loved to do best.”
“Azariah grew up here too?”
“Yes. Like most of our workers, he’s a descendant of one of William’s slaves. He liked rafting on the river, but I could never convince him to come to sea with me.”
Eden had been impressed by the friendliness of all the people she had met that day. She could not help but note the admiring glances the young women had sent Raven’s way. That he appeared completely unaware of the special attention he received had amused her, but she knew better than to tease him about it and commented on Azariah instead. “He appears to be an excellent overseer; apparently the sea simply was not his calling.”
Raven shrugged. “I guess not, but Alex was harshly criticized for giving him the overseer’s job rather than hiring a white man. From the time Englishmen started plantations here, the owners generally lived in England and relied upon white overseers to run things. Alex didn’t care any more about tradition than his father had when he believed it was wrong. I think you can understand why the Suttons have never been particularly popular here. They regarded Jamaica rather than England as home and visited only for the social season each summer.”
“But Alex was very popular in London. I never saw anyone snub him.”
“That’s true, but you’ve got to remember that, by the time slavery was abolished, sugar was no longer so vital to England’s economy as it had once been. Without free labor, owning a plantation was no longer as appealing an investment, so the lands of many were divided up and sold. What we did here no longer mattered in London. We do have neighbors upriver, but most are either in awe of an earl, or so incensed by the way we run things they want nothing to do with us either. You asked about a memorial service once, but I’d rather not hold one when our neighbors would probably attend out of curiosity rather than respect.”
