“I say, Hawke’s certainly takin’ his time—”
“He’s bound to be here in just a minute.”
“Even so, I reckon there’s time for a quick kiss—”
He pulled me into his arms in one quick movement, clasping me in a light firm grip. I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could even shape the words, his mouth fastened over mine and he was kissing me quite thoroughly. I struggled, trying to break free, and Rawlins’s arms tightened around me. He was strong, much too strong. There was nothing I could do but give in to the dizziness … and the delight.
Rawlins drew his head back and, still holding me, looked at me with mischievous brown eyes.
“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”
“You—you’re a rogue, Mr. Rawlins!”
“Always was,” he confessed. “Bad blood, I reckon.”
“And you need a bath! You smell of sweat and the woods and—”
“Don’t pretend to be nothing ’cept what I am, wench. A backwoods savage. You called me that once, remember? I’ll tell you something, though. I could have you lovin’ it in no time at all.”
“Let go of me.”
Rawlins released me, grinning again. I wanted to slap that grin off his face, but, in truth, I wasn’t nearly as angry as I should have been. Those sensations were still swirling inside. I felt weak and vulnerable and curiously elated, as though I’d had too much wine much too quickly. Rawlins was fully aware of the effect he had on me.
“Reckon I’ll be moseying along now,” he said. “Got a lotta goods to sell and not too much time left to sell ’em. You take good care of yourself now, wench. I’ll be seein’ you again ’fore too much longer.”
“Hawke will run you off the place!”
“A friendly chap like me, trying to make an honest livin’? Why should he? You’re not going to tell him about our little kiss. It was a harmless peck—and you enjoyed every second of it.”
He made an elaborate bow then and tipped an imaginary hat. Then he strolled back to his mules, caught up the reins, and led them on towards the fairgrounds, their heavy packs wobbling as they moved. I was filled with a variety of emotions, most of them disturbingly pleasant. I loved Derek Hawke with all my heart and soul, yet I had been strongly attracted to Jeff Rawlins. It was purely physical, yet it worried me nonetheless. I felt that I had somehow betrayed myself.
I did not mention my encounter with Rawlins when I met Derek by the carousel, nor did I mention him during the journey back to Shadow Oaks. Derek was moody and withdrawn, and I felt no inclination to talk myself. I wondered if he had accomplished his purpose at the fair. It was impossible to tell from his manner. It was growing late by the time we reached the plantation, and I was pleased to see that Cassie had already started the evening meal. I took over, grateful to have something to do.
Hawke retired to his study after dinner, and I helped Cassie clear up and wash the dishes. Her morning sickness had long since passed, and she was all aglow, radiantly beautiful as she moved about the kitchen under the gaze of Adam, who sat at the table with a cup of hot coffee. Although it had already been let out once, Cassie’s pink dress was again too tight, her swollen breasts and stomach straining against the cloth. When our work was finished, she leaned against her husband’s chair, resting her hand on his shoulder. Adam looked up at her, his dark eyes full of pride and love. The two of them together like that were an incredibly lovely sight, so touching that it almost brought tears to my eyes.
“This man,” Cassie said, touching the side of his face. “I’m a lucky wench, Miz Marietta, and I knows it.”
Adam scowled fiercely, pretending to be displeased. “Git on about yore business,” he growled. “Stop pawin’ over me.”
“Ain’t he a man? Ain’t he beautiful?”
“He’s goin’ whup yore hide effin you don’t stop moonin’.”
Cassie smiled, knowing the threat was hollow, knowing he loved her as deeply and passionately as she loved him. It was already dark outside, a thick, velvety summer darkness, and the lamps burned warmly in the kitchen, creating a soft, intimate atmosphere that was a perfect setting for their love. Cassie poured another cup of coffee for him and brought him some of the molasses cookies I had baked the day before. The three of us visited for a while, weary, relaxed, talking lazily about nothing in particular, and it was after nine before they finally went out to their cabin.
I had gone up to my bedroom and was just starting to get undressed when Derek stepped into the room. He had removed jacket and waistcoat. His shirt was slightly rumpled, tucked loosely into the waistband of his breeches. I was pleased, for he hadn’t come to my bedroom the past two nights. Derek never talked when he visited me. He came, he slept with me, and then he returned to his own bedroom. He never fully undressed, either. It was almost as though taking off all his clothes and climbing under the covers with me would indicate a commitment he wasn’t prepared to make. He used me as many of the planters used their Negro wenches, but I wasn’t at all perturbed. In the act itself Derek expressed all those feelings he refused to acknowledge openly, and one day, one day soon, I hoped, he would express those feelings openly, without fear.
“I have something for you,” I told him.
“Oh?”
“It’s here, in the drawer—” I took out the small parcel Bessie had wrapped for me and handed it to him. Derek wasn’t at all pleased, frowning as he tore away paper and string.
“I thought it would go nicely with your navy-blue suit.”
“You bought it at the fair?”
I nodded. Derek examined the neckcloth, still frowning, then placed it on the dressing table.
“I intended you to buy something for yourself,” he said.
“I wanted you to have it, Derek. I—I hoped you’d be pleased.”
Derek did not reply, but stepped over to me and, reaching around, began to unfasten my dress in back. He looked bored and indifferent, even as he pulled the bodice down and slipped the dress below my waist. It fell to the floor, a rustling circle of red sprigged with tiny black flowers. I held my breath as he caught the straps of my petticoat and tugged at them, exposing my breasts. Catching hold of my arms, he backed me up against the bed, shoved me gently onto the mattress.
An hour later he stood at the side of the bed, tucking the tail of his shirt back into the waistband of his breeches. He had made love to me twice, powerfully, with an almost frantic zest, yet he still seemed worried and preoccupied now. Languorous, replete, filled with a sweet ache that seemed to glow inside, I pulled my bodice back up and smoothed my skirts and watched him step across the room to the mirror. Although his back was to me, I could see his face in the glass. He brushed the sweat-damp hair from his brow and stared at his reflection as though to find an answer to some grave question. The hollows beneath his cheekbones and the shadows about his eyes seemed even more pronounced than they had been earlier. It wasn’t like him to linger like this. He usually returned to his own room as soon as he adjusted his clothing.
“Something’s bothering you,” I said quietly. “There—there’s something you want to tell me.”
Derek turned and nodded, frighteningly grim. “You’ll have to know sooner or later—Randolph will be here early next week.”
“Randolph? I don’t understand.”
“Ben Randolph. He’ll be coming to pick up his property.”
“You—” I hesitated. A hand seemed to clutch my heart.
“I’m selling Adam,” he told me.
“Derek! You can’t do that!”
“I have no choice,” he said. His voice was cold, hard. “Randolph’ll give me two thousand pounds for the buck. He’s been after me to sell him for the past two years.”
I was standing now, trembling. My knees felt weak, and it seemed the floor was about to drop from under me. I caught hold of the bedpost for support, gripping it tightly.
“Cassie’s expecting a baby! You can’t separate them! They—they love each other. It’s i
nhuman. It’s—”
“God knows I don’t want to sell him. I have no choice. I tried to get a loan in Charles Town. I couldn’t. I tried to get a mortgage on Shadow Oaks. That fell through, too. I have to have money, Marietta, and I have to have it now, or we’ll all starve.”
“You can’t do it—not Adam. Derek, you simply can’t—”
“I told Randolph about Cassie, told him she was expecting, offered to sell her, too, so they wouldn’t be separated, but he wasn’t interested. It’s something I have to do, Marietta.”
“You can’t! Ben Randolph—Maud told me about him, told me how he mistreats his slaves. The man’s a sadist, a—”
“He isn’t going to mistreat Adam. He’s investing two thousand pounds.”
“I won’t let you do it!”
“Goddamit!” he exploded. “Do you think I want to sell him? Do you think I haven’t gone through all the agonies of hell? It’s the toughest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life, but I had to make it! I could sell Adam, or I could sell you! Randolph’d buy you in a minute, or Jason Barnett, or a dozen other men I could name! I prefer to sell Adam.”
“He—he’s a human being. He’s a husband, and—and soon he’ll be a father. There must be something else you can do. It’s—”
“It’s done,” he said crisply.
He turned then and left the room abruptly. I heard him striding briskly down the hall, heard him enter his room and slam the door shut behind him. I stood there clutching the bedpost, tears streaming down my cheeks, so distraught I could hardly think coherently. I cried, and then I wiped my cheeks and turned out the lamp and went to sit in front of the window. I stared out at the night, and I was a part of the darkness, filled with an anguish almost impossible to bear. Hours passed, and dawn came. Reason returned. It would kill Cassie if she lost her man. It would destroy Adam, too. That majestic splendor would vanish and he would be a mere shell. I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t.
I thought of Elijah Jones then, and I knew what I had to do.
X
“Stop crying, Cassie,” I said sharply. “That isn’t going to help matters at all, and—and it’s beginning to irritate me!”
“You don’t care,” she wailed. “Th’ master done put Adam in chains an’ locked him up out in th’ shed, and dat man’s goin’ be here tomorrow to take him away.”
“I’m fully aware of that, Cassie.”
“Why’d he have to put Adam in chains? Why’d he have to lock him up like dat? Adam wuzn’t goin’ run away. He has pride, Miz Marietta. Chainin’ him like dat done—done make him feel like some worthless nigger. He’s goin’ die o’ shame, and I’m goin’ die, too. If they take my man away, I’m goin’ die sure as faith—”
“Shut up, Cassie.”
I felt wretched speaking to the girl like that, but I simply couldn’t abide her sniveling any longer. Cassie retreated to the other side of the kitchen and stood wringing her hands, her eyes abrim with tears. I wanted to gather her in my arms and hold her close, comfort her, but I couldn’t. This was no time for any kind of emotional indulgence. I had a great deal on my mind, a great deal to do, and it would take all the strength and courage I could muster. I knew I had to remain as cool, as calm as possible.
“It’s wicked what he’s doin’,” Cassie sobbed. “Th’ master’s always been good ’fore now, always been fair, and now—”
“I’m going out to see Mattie for a few minutes,” I interrupted. “The master will be coming in any time now, and he’ll expect his dinner to be ready. Set the table, Cassie, and then take the beans off and check on the cornbread. Have you sliced the meat?”
Cassie nodded wretchedly, and I felt like a traitor as I stepped outside and started across the yard toward Mattie’s cabin. I hadn’t revealed my plans to Cassie, nor had I said anything to Adam, afraid they might inadvertently give something away. I had confided in only two people: Mattie and Elijah Jones. Last night, at great risk, I had slipped out of the house after Derek had gone to sleep. I had walked all the way to Elijah’s farm, returning just before dawn. Everything was ready. I just prayed that I would have the strength to go through with it.
Derek and I had had a violent argument this morning. I felt it unnecessary to put Adam in chains, but Derek insisted it was a precaution he had to take. Adam was dumbfounded when Derek led him to the shed and placed him in shackles, for neither he nor Cassie had had the least inkling that he was to be sold until then. Cassie had been wailing all day long, and when I had taken his lunch out to him Adam had been silent and sullen, desperately trying to conceal his anguish. As soon as I stepped out of the shed, Derek had taken the key from me and locked the door again. I had swept on into the house, refusing to speak to him.
Caleb was lingering outside Mattie’s cabin, as stunned and frightened as all the other slaves. They found it hard to believe that Adam was locked up in the shed, that tomorrow he would be taken away, never to return. A tense atmosphere prevailed. No half-naked children played on the steps. There was no warm, friendly chatter among the women as they went about their work. A great pall had fallen over everything, the silence broken only by the clucking of the chickens and the grunts of the pigs in their pen behind the cabins.
The curtains were drawn inside Mattie’s cabin, and it was so dim I could hardly see. Mattie climbed heavily out of her chair and came toward me. She was nervous, her eyes wide with fear as she handed me the tiny packet.
“Is this it?” I asked.
Mattie nodded. “You just puts it in his coffee.”
“It—it won’t hurt him, will it?”
“Won’t do nuthin’ to him but make him feel drowsy an’ tired. He’ll be fast asleep ’fore an hour goes by, an’ when he wakes up late tomorrow mornin’ he won’t even have a headache.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’se sure, Miz Marietta. I was pickin’ herbs an’ grindin’ ’em up long ’fore you wuz even born. He’ll just get sleepy, an’ he’ll sleep like a lamb all night, wouldn’t even wake up if there wuz an earthquake. You just puts it in his coffee like I says. He won’t even taste it.”
“I hope you’re right, Mattie.”
“I knows my herbs, gal.”
“You haven’t—said anything to anyone?”
The fat old slave shook her head. “When he finds them two niggers gone, th’ master’s goin’ be furious, goin’ question us all, thinkin’ we wuz onto it. None of ’em but me’s goin’ know a thing, and I can keep my mouth shut. Long as none of ’em see you or hear you tonight, none of ’em’s ever goin’ know you had anything to do with it.”
“That’s the way I want it,” I told her. “He—he mustn’t find out.”
“You’s doin’ a mighty risky thing, gal. Mighty brave, too. Reckon I’d be scared clean outta my breeches. Them two’s lucky to have someone like you on dere side.”
Derek was coming back toward the house as I crossed the yard. He looked weary, his old white shirt clinging across his back damply, his breeches dusty. I hurried on into the house, not deigning to speak, and later on, as I served his dinner, I maintained my silence. He had cleaned up and changed, but he still looked exhausted. I knew this was very difficult for him, knew he hated to part with Adam, and I had to steel myself to keep from sympathizing. I was concerned about Adam and Cassie now. Later on I could be concerned about Derek. My hand shook ever so slightly as I carried the pot of coffee into the dining room. The liquid was thick and hot, steaming as I poured it into his cup. I was relieved to find that I experienced very little guilt.
He was already yawning when I returned with the rice pudding I had made for dessert. His eyelids were heavy, and I could see that he was struggling to stay awake.
“Are you all right?” I inquired. “You seem—unusually tired.”
“I must have worked harder than I thought. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I’ll skip dessert, Marietta. I’ll—just go on up to my room, get to bed early.”
Half an hour later I crept i
nto his room. He was stretched out across the bed on top of the covers, sound asleep. He had pulled off his boots and shirt, but he still wore his breeches, and he had left the lamp burning. I blew it out, and as the moonlight poured into the room I swung his legs around and propped his head on the pillows. Derek moaned and made a face as I spread a light quilt over him, but he didn’t awaken. I left him there in the darkness and hurried down to the kitchen where Cassie was washing the dishes.
“I want you to listen to me carefully,” I said. “Don’t ask any questions, just do as I say. Go to your cabin and bundle up your things. Adam’s, too. Do it quietly. Don’t let anyone see you or hear you. Then meet me at the side of the barn, in the shadows.”
“I—I don’t understand, Miz Marietta. What—”
“Don’t ask questions, Cassie! It’s important you do exactly as I say.”
The girl understood then. She looked incredulous, then frightened, and then she nodded and gave me a quick hug, holding me tightly for a moment as the tears spilled down her cheeks. I blew out the lamp in the kitchen, and Cassie slipped out under the cover of darkness. With luck, all the other slaves would already be in their cabins. Peering out the window, I could barely see the girl as she moved across the dark yard, keeping to the shadows. I suddenly realized the enormity of what I was doing, and doubts besieged me. He would indeed be furious when he discovered the couple gone. He would mount an extensive search. What if he discovered I was responsible … Again I steeled myself. I couldn’t afford to think about possible repercussions, not at this point.
Moving quickly down the hall, I stepped into the study. The lamps were burning, filling the room with a mellow golden light, and all the draperies were open. Guiltily, I closed them so that no one could see into the room, and then I stepped over to the desk and opened the bottom drawer, taking out the cigar box. They would need a certain amount of money before they finally reached safety. I didn’t intend to take much. Derek probably wouldn’t even miss it, I told myself, gingerly removing several of the bills. I folded them up and slipped them into my skirt pocket, then put the box back and closed the drawer.
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