Belle

by Beverly Jenkins

  Daniel leaned over and told the wildly applauding Belle that slave owners in Kentucky had put a thousand-dollar bounty on DeBaptiste’s head for his role in aiding fugitives, but so far, no one had been bold enough or stupid enough to try and collect.

  After the main speakers were finished, the pulpit was turned over to lesser-known individuals, and to Belle’s surprise and delight, Daniel and his mother were among them. Mrs. Best issued a rousing call to the women gathered to increase their efforts in aiding abolition. She cited the activities of females all over the North who were agitating, raising funds and forming societies in the name of freedom. Daniel delivered an impassioned plea on why slavery needed to die and then spoke from the heart about the kidnappings of his two best friends. Belle was so very proud and thought him the handsomest young man in the church.

  The speakers were followed by a mass choir, whose singing filled both the church and the hearts of those in attendance with their message of perseverance and faith. At the end of the day, over one hundred dollars had been raised, and Belle went home with the Bests determined to do all she could to help aid the cause.

  “The Morgan boys have been found!” Mrs. Best declared excitedly as she escorted a smiling Bea Meldrum into the house. It was now the end of May, and it had been more than three weeks since the kidnapping.

  Mrs. Best’s ecstatic voice brought everyone hurrying into the parlor.

  Bea told them all, “An attorney friend of Mr. Still’s in Philadelphia found them in Richmond, Virginia. I just left their mother. She showed me the letter she received from him yesterday.”

  “Hallelujah!” William Best shouted happily.

  Belle looked to Daniel and they shared a grin. He’d taken the kidnapping of his friends very hard.

  A happy Jojo asked, “What else did the attorney write, Mrs. Meldrum?”

  “Well, it seems Watson sold the brothers to a Kentucky trader who took them by train to the slave pens in Richmond. They were then sold at a public auction for twenty-six hundred dollars.”

  Daniel whistled appreciatively. “Who knew those two woodenheads would be worth so much?”

  His mother cut him a look. “This is serious, Daniel.”

  “I know, Mama. Sorry.”

  She peered over at him and said, “But you are right.”

  Everyone allowed themselves a small smile.

  Belle asked then, “So, where are they now? Are they on their way back here?”

  “No,” Bea said. “They’re awaiting a hearing before a local judge. This auction took place two days before the attorney found them, but luckily the bidder hadn’t paid yet. Once the attorney can prove the boys are who they say they are, their mother expects they’ll be declared free and sent home.”

  Belle felt relief take hold.

  Daniel asked, “How long might that be?”

  “A week or two, three at the most, she thinks.” Bea added, “The letter was mailed from Richmond six days ago, so hopefully everything’s being worked out.”

  Mr. Best added sagely, “Those boys are lucky. They could’ve disappeared into the South and never been heard from again.”

  Belle knew he was right. After all, hadn’t she lost her mother and almost her father? She was glad the Morgans were coming home, though. She liked them both and would continue to pray for their quick and safe return.

  Even though it appeared as if Adam and Jere would be freed, the vigilance in the community continued. Some of Watson’s lieutenants were still roaming around, and folks stayed on alert. The number of runaways entering the area had been reduced to a trickle, and any freight that had to be moved was done under very tight security.

  One evening, a few days after the Morgan news, Belle asked Mrs. Best if she would come up to her room for a moment. Mrs. Best appeared a bit puzzled by Belle’s mysterious request, but she set aside her household accounts and followed Belle back upstairs.

  Upon entering the room, Belle said, “Have a seat on the bed here, and close your eyes.”

  Mrs. Best looked first to Belle and then to her seated and grinning daughter. “What is this about?” she asked.

  Jojo implored, “Just close your eyes, Mama. It’s a surprise.”

  “All right, no shenanigans now,” Mrs. Best warned, then covered her eyes.

  Once the girls were certain she wasn’t peeking, they prepared everything, then Belle declared, “You may open them.”

  The burgundy gown was finished. When Mrs. Best saw it in all its beautiful glory she brought her hands to her mouth in wonder. “Oh, Belle, it’s gorgeous.” Mrs. Best slowly came off the bed and walked over to where Belle stood holding up the gown. All she seemed able to say was, “My goodness, Belle.”

  Jojo said, “You’re going to have the prettiest dress in the whole place.”

  The overskirt had been lavishly embroidered, and the jet lace trim added just the right touch. The high-necked bodice with its gauzy jet inset didn’t have a pucker or a seam out of place. When she wore the dress over the requisite hooped slips, Mrs. Best would be able to glide through the ball like a queen.

  Belle enjoyed the pleasure on Mrs. Best’s face almost as much as she’d enjoyed making the gown. Belle considered all her hard work just a small payment on the enormous debt she owed Cecilia Best and her family. “How about you get your fancy shoes and we hem it up?”

  Mrs. Best didn’t have to be asked twice. She was gone and back in a flash.

  After the dress was hemmed, it was wrapped in tissue paper, and then hung in Mrs. Best’s armoire. The ball was next weekend and Belle and Jojo couldn’t wait to see her all fancied up.

  Back in Belle’s room, Jojo helped Belle put her sewing items back into her basket. “Papa’s eyes are going to pop right out of his head when he sees Mama in that dress,” she told Belle. “She’s never worn anything that beautiful before.”

  “Well, she deserves it.”

  Josephine met Belle’s eyes, and she said genuinely, “You made her real happy, Belle. Thank you.”

  Belle felt her heart swell. “You’re real welcome, Jo.”

  “When I get married, will you make my dress?”

  “Certainly, but that’s not going to be anytime soon, is it?” Belle teased, sifting through her threads to see what she had left over.

  Jo, now posed before the mirror, said, “No.” She then began lifting her heavy brown sausage curls this way and that. “I’m thinking about cutting my hair.”

  “I hope your trunks are packed, because you’ll need someplace to live once your mama gets done with you.”

  Jojo sighed. “I know, but I’m just so tired of looking twelve.”

  Belle chuckled. “You are twelve, Jojo.”

  “And I’ll probably stay this way forever. Sausage curls and petticoats,” she said dejectedly. “I look like the Medusa.”

  “Who’s the Medusa?”

  “A woman from Greek mythology. She had snakes for hair.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Jo turned from the mirror. “Yep, and if you looked her in the face, you’d be turned into stone.”

  Belle stared. “Really?”

  “Truly. We’re studying the Greek myths, and the stories are filled with all manner of strange folks. Centaurs, gods, muses.”

  Belle had no idea what a centaur or a muse was, but found the names curious. “Are they supposed to have been real people?”

  Jojo shrugged. “Mr. Hood says no, but he didn’t seem real certain.”

  Belle couldn’t see a snake-haired woman being real, but knew there were probably thousands of things she had no knowledge of. “How’s your handsome Mr. Hood doing, by the way? Are all the girls still swooning?”

  “No.”

  The answer was such an abrupt one, Belle studied Jojo silently. “What’s happened?”

  Jojo didn’t answer for a moment. She then met Belle’s eyes with such a serious face, Belle couldn’t imagine what had come over her young friend. “Jo, whatever’s wrong?” It was obvious Jojo wa
s wrestling with something, so Belle waited for her to speak.

  When she did, she began in a small voice, “Belle, if you know something that you know will hurt somebody you love, do you tell them anyway?”

  Belle searched Jojo’s honest eyes. “I don’t know, Jo. Depends on what it is, I suppose. Is this something you need to talk to your mama about?”

  Jo shook her head. “I’d like to, but I can’t. She’d have a fit.”

  Belle couldn’t imagine what this concerned, but searched her mind for a trusted adult Jojo might consult. “How about Mrs. Meldrum? She seems real nice.”

  “She’d just tell Mama.”

  “Your brother?”

  Jo’s eyes widened. “Heavens no!”

  “Okay,” Belle said, noting Jo’s strong reaction. “What about your friend, Trudy?”

  “Trudy knows already.”

  Jo then looked to Belle, and Belle knew what was next. Even though Belle wasn’t sure she wanted to be Jojo’s confidante in this, she refused to turn her back on the girl who’d brought such joy into her life. “Do you wish to tell me?”

  Jo scanned Belle’s face. “Are you sure?”

  Belle nodded. “Sounds like it’s a burden that needs to be shared, so yes, I’m sure.”

  “Francine’s been sparking with Mr. Hood.”

  Belle froze. She stared. She said, “What?!”

  Jojo nodded unhappily. “They eat lunch together almost every day, now that we’re meeting in the church basement for school.”

  Belle now understood why Jojo needed to talk this over. “Does Francine know that you know?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t think she cares, frankly. You see, she came by Trudy’s house when we were having school there last month.”

  “What did she want?”

  “Oh, she brought some books her papa had purchased for Mr. Hood, but she didn’t leave. She spent the whole day swooning just like us. She’s been bringing him lunch at least three times a week since then.”

  “Maybe she’s just being kind. The man doesn’t have any family here, right?”

  “Right, but this is Francine the Queen we’re discussing here—she doesn’t know anything about being kind.”

  Belle had to admit, Jojo did have a point. “It certainly sounds suspicious, Jo, especially after that show she made in church a few Sundays back, but if they’re only eating lunch—”

  “And kissing.”

  “Kissing?” Bell croaked.

  Jojo nodded like a horse. “Kissing.”

  Belle’s hands went to her mouth. Daniel would be devastated. “Jo, this is terrible.”

  “I know. I’m having trouble sleeping because I don’t know if I should tell Daniel or not.”

  Belle understood. How do you tell your brother that the woman he plans to marry is courting with someone else? In light of the secret Daniel had shared about his promise to Francine’s mother, Belle found this to be good news in a way; it would give Daniel an out if he chose to take it, but if he was truly intent upon making Francine his bride, it would break his heart.

  Jo asked, “So what do we do? Do we tell him?”

  Belle hadn’t a clue as to how to proceed. She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  The two of them shared a look, then Jo said, “Well, at least I feel better having told someone else.”

  Belle, not sure how she felt, cracked, “Thanks a lot.”

  Jojo smiled.

  Belle had come to a decision. “Well, let’s not tell Daniel for now. Maybe something will happen, and he’ll find out on his own.”

  “I hope so, because if Mama finds out first, she’ll turn Francine into stone for sure.”

  Belle didn’t doubt that for a moment.

  thirteen

  Late Saturday afternoon, Belle and Jojo helped Mrs. Best prepare for the ball. Jojo did her mother’s hair, then both girls stood by as she donned the dress. Belle surveyed her handiwork with a critical eye: looking at the fit, how the seams appeared, whether she’d inserted the tops of the sleeves smoothly enough. She ran her eyes down the lines of the waist, searching for puckers or anything that was not right, but she found no flaws in her work. It was the first gown she’d ever made for a loved one, and it showed.

  Mrs. Best gazed at herself in the mirror, then spent a few smiling moments turning back and forth to see the gown from all angles. “Belle, I don’t know how to thank you. Once the word gets around about your skills, the ladies will be lined up at our door.”

  Belle was glad to see Cecilia Best so happy. “Maybe then I can start paying you some room and board.”

  Cecilia stilled, turned, and gave Belle a long, penetrating look. “Young lady, be glad I’m all gussied up, otherwise you and I would go toe to toe over that remark. Room and board. I should be paying you for all the work you do around here.” Cecilia then told Jojo, “Smack her for me, would you, Jo? I don’t want to muss anything.”

  The three women all grinned.

  Belle and Jojo made sure Daniel and Mr. Best were waiting at the foot of the stairs before they would let Mrs. Best make her appearance. Once everyone was in place, Jojo declared in a loud voice, “Presenting Mrs. Cecilia Best.”

  Mrs. Best came forward. Her men took one look at her standing on the landing and their chins dropped. In her beautiful burgundy silk with her hair done up and just a touch of paint on her face, she descended the stairs slowly. Mr. Best had such a look of wonder on his face, Belle couldn’t hold her grin.

  Mr. Best finally found speech, it seemed. “Lord, Cecilia. You’re even more beautiful than the day we married.”

  She told him softly, “Do I know you?”

  He grinned and played right along. “No. Let me introduce myself. My name is William Best.”

  “Pleased to meet you, William Best. Is your carriage ready?”

  He nodded. “Oh, yes, my dear. Very ready.”

  Amused, Belle tried not to stare. She’d never known married people flirted this way until she came to live here. On one hand, watching their antics sometimes made Belle very embarrassed, but on the other hand, she hoped to have such an easygoing relationship with the man she married someday. Belle looked to Daniel to gauge his reaction and found him watching her so seriously and so intently, her knees went weak.

  Mrs. Best’s voice distracted her. “Jo, in bed at a decent hour. I know tomorrow’s Sunday, but you will be going to church. Belle and Daniel, not too late, and keep an eye out. Watson’s heathens are still around.”

  They both nodded.

  She then turned back to her husband who was still staring at her as if she were dessert. She smiled up at him and said sweetly, “Are you ready, William?”

  He nodded, then told his son, “If you’re still awake when your mother and I get home, do not disturb us unless the house is on fire. Do you understand?”

  Daniel tried to hide his grin, but failed. “Yes, sir. Have a good time.”

  “Oh, we will,” his father assured him, still eyeing his lovely wife. “Don’t you worry about that.”

  And then they were gone.

  In the silence that followed, Jojo said, “They’re really too old to be acting that way. I’m glad none of my friends were here.”

  Belle chuckled. “I think they’re sweet. Do they embarrass you, too, Daniel?”

  Daniel told her, “No. I plan to love the woman I marry just as much as Papa loves Mama.”

  His eyes were once again holding Belle’s with such intensity, she found it a bit hard to breathe. Why would he say such a thing to her? Was it because they’d decided to be friends, and he was just being truthful in response to that friendship, or was it about something else entirely? Belle had no answers, but knew her crush on him would never go away if he kept looking at her like that. She nervously turned her eyes back to Jojo, and found Jojo watching them. Jo had that knowing little smile on her face again. Belle asked, “Yes?”

  Jojo just shook her head. “Nothing. I’ll see you two later. I have some schoolwork to d
o. Let me know when it’s time to cut the cake.”

  The cake, made by Belle this morning, was for dessert, along with the ice cream hardening in the churn.

  Jojo disappeared up the stairs.

  In the silent aftermath, Belle could feel uncertainty rising within her again. Her desire to retreat to her room warred with wanting to stay and be with Daniel.

  Daniel wanted Belle to sit and talk with him awhile, but didn’t know if he should ask her. He decided he would. “Are you going up to your room?”

  “I—maybe, I hadn’t decided.”

  “Will you sit and talk with me for a while? That is, if you want to.”

  Belle willed herself to respond calmly. “I’d like that.”

  Daniel gestured her to a seat on the settee, then he sat down at her side.

  An awkward silence rose between them. Belle searched her mind for something to say or to discuss. “What did you want to be when you were younger?”

  “Older,” he cracked with a smile, then said, “Really, I wanted to be a carpenter, just like my father. I would watch him take pieces of wood and turn them into polished tables and drawers and beds, and I wanted to do those things, too. What did you want to be?”

  “I don’t remember ever wanting to be anything,” she answered truthfully, “maybe because I knew that I’d always be just what I was. I always dreamed of doing things, though.”

  “Such as?”

  “Seeing all the fancy balls my dresses and gowns were being worn to. Going on some of the sea voyages and trips the young ladies took those same gowns on. The things I sewed got to see more of the world than I ever did. Until I came here.”

  Belle held his eyes. She wondered what it would be like to see the world with him.

  Daniel now understood what poets meant about drowning in a woman’s eyes. “What did you do before you learned to sew?”

  “Helped Mama keep Mrs. Grayson’s house. She was Mrs. Grayson’s housekeeper, but she was a seamstress, too, much better than I’ll ever be probably.”