His eyes on the cocky young man, he announced, “For one thing, I’m a very patient man. Otherwise I’d already have throttled you for treating Rosaline this way.”
Cornell’s head swiveled to look at him, and his eyes were as wide as the Atlantic. “What’s the meaning of this intrusion?”
Will folded his arms over his chest. “You can’t simply spirit an unmarried woman away like this.”
The younger man looked very put out. “What of it? This common heifer should be honored I’m offering on her!”
In the split second Cornell’s attention was off of her, Rosaline balled her fist and drew back.
In the next moment, her blow connected with Cornell’s jaw.
“OH!” He yowled like a wounded pup, stumbling backward several steps before toppling to the floor on his backside.
Will whistled, admittedly impressed. Here he’d thought she might need rescuing, and it turned out Cornell would be the one in need of help. She was amazing, truly amazing.
Rosaline gave him a half smile, flexing her fingers and wincing as if the blow had hurt her hand. “Thanks for distracting him for me.”
He looked to her. “That wasn’t my intent, but I’m glad I could assist you.”
A moment passed while they regarded each other, and he sensed an air of congeniality and mutual respect between the two of them.
Cornell rubbed his struck jaw, struggling into a sitting position. He appeared as dazed and out of sorts as a man who’d spent an entire night drinking. “You bitch! How dare you?”
Will was on him before he could draw his next breath. He knelt so that he straddled Cornell’s lower body, and grabbed up the front of his fancy shirt.
Looking straight into the young man’s eyes, he spoke. “Mr. Goodman, if you slur her again, I’ll put my foot so far up your ass you’ll taste my boot. Do you understand me?”
Cornell’s head bobbed up and down furiously.
Roughly, Will released the boy’s shirtfront, roughly tossed him backwards. Then he stood and walked over to Rosaline, catching her hand in his own.
She gazed up at him with a sparkle in her eyes. “If I were in the market for a champion, I’d choose you.”
He squeezed her hand, walking her to the corridor. “So I’ve heard.”
And he escorted her up the narrow stairs to the deck above.
~~~
Back above deck, Rosaline inhaled deeply. She knew that appearing before the other party-goers while holding hands with Will would get tongues wagging, but she didn’t care. The way he’d stood up for her a while ago only made her more sure of her decision to court him. Listening to Marian Goodman, and seeing the sad look in the older woman’s eyes when she’d spoken of missing out on a love match, Rosaline knew she had to honor the feelings she harbored for Will. She hadn’t told him verbally, but as she looked his way and saw the smile touching the corners of his mustached mouth, she felt the silent agreement flowing between them.
They strolled to the back of the ship, just behind the parlor and above the churning paddle wheel. Most of the people on board were inside the parlor, and the din of their conversations floated on the evening air. When they stopped at the railing, she looked side to side, and saw no one else on this end of the ship. Seeing that they were alone, she relaxed a bit and directed her gaze up toward the sky.
From their position, the view of the sunset took her breath away. The fiery orange orb of the sun sank below the tops of the towering pines, centering the broad ribbons of purple, red, and gold festooning the horizon. The sounds of the chatter inside faded beneath the sloshing water thrown off by the paddle wheel, and the chirping and croaking of the frogs and insects hidden in the foliage along the river’s edge.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His velvet baritone invaded her thoughts.
“It is.” She couldn’t recall ever having taken the time to view the setting sun, or reflect on its beauty. The showy colors she saw above her now made her vow to change that.
His hand was still clasped around hers, and he used that as leverage to gently draw her close to him, so that she stood in front of him. The front of his body made contact with the back of hers, and a shiver of wanting ran down her spine.
She knew they should not be here this way, knew propriety demanded they leave a reasonable amount of space between them. But he awakened something inside her body, some primal yearning that overrode her ability to care about what society deemed proper. Just last night she’d dreamed of the hard lines of his body; now his muscled form was flush with her own. His arms encircled her waist, and she let her head fall back against the steadying strength of his shoulder. Her tongue darted out to dampen her lower lip, and her eyes slid closed.
“I gather you’re accepting my offer of courting.”
“Yes.” The word escaped her on a sigh, and without hesitation.
Even in the darkness she could sense his smile. “Good. I’ll be sure to make you glad you said yes, Rosie.”
They lapsed into silence, and she relished the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her, and his broad chest supporting her. Where his pelvis touched the fullest part of her hips, she could feel his desire. Heat filled her cheeks at the sensation of his hardness against her. While she felt somewhat scandalous for being here with him this way, she couldn’t help being pleased that he wanted her just as she did him.
She opened her eyes to the darkened sky, saw the rising moon overhead. The moon controlled the ebb and flow of the tide, pushing and pulling it to and fro at the shore. In this moment, she was the water and he was the moon, drawing her to heed his call.
Her thoughts were interrupted as he moved his hands up her forearms, using them to turn her around so that she was facing him.
The motion of the ship seemed to cease, but her body and soul remained adrift. “Are we moving?”
In the dim, she saw him nod. “Don’t you feel it?”
“The only thing I feel is myself, drifting to you.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could catch them and hold them at bay.
His big hand moved up to capture her jaw. Eyes glittering like starlight on the water, he tilted her face up.
She offered no protest as his mouth collided with hers.
His lips were as soft as summer rain, yet his kiss held the urgency of a raging thunderstorm. Her arms wound around his neck as his free arm snaked around her waist. Time and existence faded into nothingness as she experienced the heady bliss of his tongue slipping between her parted lips to plumb the cavern of her mouth. No man had ever truly kissed her before. The chaste pecks on the cheek she’d gotten up until now could not be compared to the skilled seduction flowing from the man who held her so close to his heart.
“Well, I never!” The sudden sound of the irate shout made her break the kiss, and turn to see where the words came from.
Rosaline took a big step to the left, and she and Will both turned their gazes toward the sound.
There, fists propped on her large hips, stood Marian Goodman, her face twisted into a disapproving frown. Her nephew Cornell stood alongside her, eyeing them angrily. The boy still held a hand to his jaw; either it still pained him, or he wanted to hide the bruise.
Marian launched into a diatribe, complete with wagging finger. “Rosaline! I thought better of you than this? What do you mean by trysting in the dark with William, aboard my ship of all places?”
Rosaline rolled her eyes, not caring if Mrs. Goodman could see her, though the dim light made it doubtful. “We aren’t trysting, Mrs. Goodman, simply enjoying each other’s company.”
“And I suppose you prefer Will’s company to that of my nephew, even after he showed himself to be a brute?”
Confusion knit Rosaline’s brow. “A brute? How so?”
Marian gestured to her nephew. “You know what he did! He struck Cornell, like a common bully! Who knows when that bruise will heal?”
Will’s eyes widened, and he seemed to be holding back a chuckle. “Yo
u mean, he told you I hit him?”
Marian crossed her arms over her chest angrily. “He did, and what is so funny?”
By now Will’s body was shaking with deep, rumbling laughs.
Rosaline struggled to contain her own mirth as she admitted, “I hit him, Mrs. Goodman. I had to protect myself from his rather overt advances.”
One of the crewmen strolled by with his torch, lighting the hanging lanterns secured to the outer walls of the ship’s main parlor. The four of them remained silent while the man went about his task. When he walked away, the light cast on the group let Rosaline see the deep red staining Cornell’s face.
Marian looked up to her nephew. “Cornell, is that true?”
The angry faced boy said nothing, but his gaze dropped to his feet as if he were suddenly pressed to examine his shoes.
With the laughter still shut up inside her, Rosaline did her best to explain Cornell’s bruised jaw. “Your nephew took me below deck to your family’s quarters. Had Will not shown up and intervened, I fear I would have been compromised. But I was the one who hit him, and I won’t apologize for protecting myself.”
Will’s laughing fit cooled a bit, and he composed himself. He seemed to sense the charge of seriousness hanging in the air.
Marian’s blazing eyes went to Cornell, who was still looking at the floor. “Boy, you took her down below? Why in Sam Hill would you do a thing like that?”
“I just wanted to talk to her.” Cornell’s mumbled response was further muffled by the fact that he seemed to be talking to the deck floor.
“You could have done that above deck, you ninny!” Marian shouted.
Cornell said nothing, stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
A sound of utter disgust erupted from Marian’s mouth. “If she hadn’t walloped you I’d smack you myself! You’d better locate your sense and fast, because if you’re going to behave so foolishly you’ll have no chance of practicing law with any success.”
Rosaline watched the exchange in silence. Inwardly, she felt relieved that Cornell’s lack of good judgment would not cause her to lose the Goodmans’ patronage of her bakery. She was also glad to see Mrs. Goodman taking her nephew to task. It was far better he learn to have some decency about himself now, while he was still young. If he hit full adulthood and held on to such behavior, who knew what horror and shame he might visit on some poor, unsuspecting lady?
Marian then turned to address Rosaline. “Dear, please excuse my nephew’s foolhardy behavior.”
Rosaline nodded. “I think he’s learned his lesson.”
Marian looked between Rosaline and Will, and continued. “I can see you’ve made your choice as to who you’ll court. Still, I’m not running a floating house of ill-repute here, so try to contain yourselves until we reach Wilmington.”
Rosaline didn’t care for the implication of Mrs. Goodman’s words, and from the hard set of Will’s jaw, she could tell that he didn’t either. It was as if Mrs. Goodman expected them to undress each other and have at it, right there on the deck. As much as her body called out for him, she knew better than to give in to her urges so carelessly.
She offered a nod to Mrs. Goodman, but said nothing, lest she tell the older woman what she thought of her insulting insinuations.
Marian grabbed the sheepish looking Cornell by the arm and yanked him back toward the open doors of the parlor.
Left alone again on the deck, Rosaline looked up at Will.
His eyes, which had hardened when Marian made her rude comment, now softened considerably as they focused on her. “I can’t believe he told his aunt I struck him. I should whack him over the head now, just to make an honest man out of him.”
She chuckled. “I suppose he was too embarrassed to let her know he’d been shown the err of his ways by a mere woman.”
His fingertips grazed along her jawline in a caress. “It will be hard for me to follow Mrs. Goodman’s edict. There is something about you that makes me want to be very improper.”
She sighed, his words heating her to the core. Thankfully the cool of evening had set in, and a breeze rustled the silk blooms atop her hat, offering some respite from the heat generated by his nearness. She wanted to tell him of her dream, to let him know that he wasn’t alone in his scandalous notions.
Smiling up at him, she mimicked the caress he’d given her. “We will simply have to do the best we can.”
He grasped her hand, and they walked together toward the parlor.
Inside the crowded space, Rosaline glanced toward the table where her cake had been displayed. Her smile brightened when she saw that nearly every piece had been eaten. Only a few of the slices remained, and from the chatter she heard around her, her cinnamon spice cake had been a big hit with the party-goers.
Sarah was seated on the crate, still watching over the cake. When the youngster saw Rosaline and Will, her face showed a broad grin. Rosaline could only shake her head at Sarah’s exuberance.
The tinkling sound of metal striking glass rose over the laughter and conversation filling the space, until quiet fell over the gathering. Rosaline looked toward the sound and saw Chauncey Goodman, tapping one of the crystal punch cups with a fork. Marian stood dutifully by his side, but Cornell was nowhere to be seen. Rosaline supposed his aunt and uncle had exiled him to the quarters to save themselves the embarrassment of having him bruised face be seen by everyone aboard the ship.
“Good evening, folks. Marian and I want to thank you all for joining us on this cruise. We couldn’t have asked for a better group to celebrate this momentous occasion with us. The captain has informed me that we’re less than an hour away from docking in Wilmington, but there’s something I’d like to say before we arrive.”
Rosaline clapped politely, along with the others present. Will released her hand to join in the applause.
Chauncey continued his speech. “For those of you among us who aren’t familiar with Juneteenth, let me enlighten you. Emancipation became the law of this nation on December 6, 1865, as set forth by President Lincoln and the Congress with the ratification of the Thirteenth Amendment. This amendment was first signed January 31st of that year. Here in North Carolina, the amendment was ratified on December 4th of that same year.”
She nodded, her hand going to her mouth as she remembered the day she’d been freed. The blue coats and the stern faces of the Union soldiers who made the announcement at the plantation were etched in her mind. Their words announcing her release from bondage, by order of the governments of both the United States and the state of North Carolina, were the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.
“Juneteenth is a celebration of June 19th, 1865, the day when our brothers and sisters in southern Texas finally discovered that they had been freed. We gather here, on this tenth anniversary of that blessed day, to celebrate our freedom. We remember the ancestors who didn’t live to see this day, knowing they are rejoicing in heaven. But while we celebrate, we must not become complacent. More work must be done.”
A few shouts of agreement rose among the folks gathered.
Above the shouts, Chauncey raised his voice. “We must continue the work of gaining full freedom in this nation. We must agitate, we must demonstrate, until all citizens of this country can enjoy the same rights. Let us never forget those who died in bondage, and let us do what is necessary to make sure our descendants can experience the full measure of freedom!”
Cheers erupted from the crowd. Rosaline, with tears standing in her eyes, joined in. Chauncey Goodman was a man of few words, but no one could deny the passion and conviction he’d spoken with on the importance of this occasion.
Will clapped boisterously, his face belying a degree of emotion. “What a speech.”
As she dabbed the tears from her cheeks with her handkerchief, she had to agree.
~~~
The nine o’clock hour found the ship docking on the shore at Wilmington. As the crew dropped the anchor and secured the ship, Will stood on the deck,
looking out over the expanse of the Wilmington shoreline. The jagged lines of the tops of buildings broke the horizon. Gas lamps were lit in the windows of homes and the few businesses still open at this hour. The clear night sky above was dotted with stars, their reflections sparkling like crystals on the surface of the water.
The gangplank was set up, and folks began to gather their belongings and disembark. He looked over his shoulder, and could see Rosaline working with Sarah to pack the platters and serving things from her cake into the crates she’d brought on board. The ship would be secured overnight, as Clem and Earl were remaining on board to keep watch, and to make sure the vessel was prepared for the trip back up the river come tomorrow morning.
Their task completed, Rosaline and Sarah made their way out of the parlor and onto the deck. As Sarah moved on down the gangplank with two other girls her age and their female chaperon, he eased to Rosaline’s side.
“Are you headed to the River’s Edge tonight?” She looked up into his eyes as she posed the question.
The River’s Edge was a popular boardinghouse along the shore of the river, where many of the folks on the cruise would be spending the night. The Goodmans and their closest friends would be staying at the cottage the family maintained on Wrightsville Beach; even now they were loading into a carriage for the trip. “Yes, but I need to remain on board until everyone has cleared off.”
She nodded her understanding. “Shall I wait for you in the lobby, then?”
He leaned down to kiss her brow. “Please do.”
She gifted him with a sweet smile, then she and that fancy hat went down the gangplank to the shore.
Wearing a smile of his own, he turned and went in search of Bret.
He found the ship’s captain in the makeshift kitchen. Bret and the head chef from the catering company were removing the spent hickory from the iron grate beneath the custom stove.
Bret looked up when Will entered. “We shouldn’t be much longer, just making sure the fire’s out.”
The Brightest Day: A Juneteenth Historical Romance Anthology Page 14
