Island Queen

by Vanessa Riley

  “Let me talk to Charlotte. I’ll let you know. I am more in favor of it than not.”

  I walked him to the door. When I opened it, I saw soldiers walking past.

  Again Fédon looked as if he wanted to spit. He took off charging forward, and I prayed he’d not get into trouble.

  Frances tugged on my skirt.

  “Walk, too, Mama?”

  These streets in Roseau I’d traveled often, but my feet felt nailed to the floorboards. “Not today, baby.”

  Picking up my daughter, I snuggled her face. I’d return to the outside world when I was ready. That day would be soon.

  Dominica 1789: A Wedding

  The small chapel, Notre Dame du Bon Port, looked good, decorated with tallow candles and white-white anthurium lilies. Very fitting for my darling Charlotte’s wedding.

  “I’m nervous, Mama.”

  I came away from the door of the priest’s office and smoothed her veil. Though made from bark, the lace looked like silk net. I styled it like the pictures in the magazines Mr. King sent. Each page made me dream of journeying across the sea.

  Draped in a light blue gown with silver embroidery, Charlotte turned in circles, making the rich bows trimmed along the folds of silk float. Like butterflies to hibiscus, they covered her from her bosom to hem.

  “How do I look, Mama?”

  “Like an angel.”

  Mamaí fastened the veil to Charlotte’s hair, braided shining tresses with buckler pins adding height to her curls. Her thick hair looked like an intricate woven basket and smelled of coconut.

  “This is for you.” I slipped the rosary into my daughter’s palm, the leather string of red and gold beads my mama had given me when I fled Montserrat. “Take these with you, so you’ll know I and Mamaí are with you too.”

  My stoic mother’s eyes were glossy.

  I clasped Charlotte’s shaking hand. “Jean-Joseph Fédon loves you. All will be well.”

  She nodded, tears leaking down her cheeks. “I won’t see you much after this.”

  “Grenada’s not too far. I’ll visit when you settle.”

  I held her like she was that babe I bore years ago.

  Charlotte hummed our special tune. Mamaí and I joined her.

  Rop tú mo baile.

  Rop tú mo baile.

  Rop tú mo baile.

  “This union is sanctioned by my God. Charlotte, my darling daughter. This is good.”

  A knock at the door made me turn, and my eyes met Cells’s hazel ones. “Dolly.”

  With his lopsided grin, he repeated my name then kissed my fingers.

  His short white waistcoat and close-fitting breeches were immaculate. Like the Fédons had worn at our first meeting, his ebony coat was short in the front and long in the back, no pleats, no fancy embroidery. There was more gray in Cells’s black hair, but I wasn’t sure if that was powder.

  Our eyes locked, my anger stirred. Stepping to the side, I waved him to Charlotte.

  “Papa Cells.” My daughter ran to him and hugged him. He lifted her veil and kissed her brow. “I’ve missed you so. Missed my Demerara family.”

  This day was for Charlotte.

  The heat in my throat, every angry word I wanted to say I kept to myself. “We should begin. I need to sit by Edward and the rest of my family.”

  “The priest is here. You take your seat, Dolly. I’ll take care of our beautiful girl.”

  Coming in and claiming everything? Holding my hot breath, I took Charlotte’s palm and put it in his. Having to give him anything when he left Catharina in London burned.

  I straightened my hat, a bisque straw bonnet with an egret feather, and went out into the church.

  The Fédon women and siblings sat at the left. They looked like very proud people arrayed in fine colors of ruby and deep blue.

  Lizzy and Coxall and her baby girl sat in the next row.

  Polk and Mrs. Randolph had come along with Mr. Bates and his clerks. This might be one of the few times coloreds and whites sat side by side in this church.

  It might be one of the last. More and more British had come to Dominica, more warships sat off the coast. The same talk that stopped Catholic worship in Montserrat came more frequently from the politicians and soldiers walking the streets.

  It was odd our worship frightened folks, and how I clung to a faith that didn’t always see me as fully human or with rights.

  God must work in mysterious ways. I headed to Edward. Mamaí joined us as we took seats near Frances and the wet nurse who had Eliza. Kitty smiled at me, but she moved to sit with Polk.

  Jean-Joseph Fédon stood with his brother; both wore white breeches and black coats with gold braiding. If they had medals hanging from their chests, I could picture the two as royalty, sort of like my old friend the captain of the Pegasus, the prince of England.

  A hush smothered the light whispers as Cells led Charlotte to the altar.

  The priest said his words.

  I held mine in as Coseveldt pledged to give away my daughter.

  Then he came and sat beside me. “You’ve done good, Dolly.”

  He shook Edward’s hand. My son was a good boy; he didn’t hiss at Cells.

  “I do mean it, Dolly. I’m impressed with you.”

  Didn’t need his approval. I knew I didn’t have his respect. “Why didn’t you bring Catharina?”

  “She’s in the middle of schooling.”

  “She’s six, Cells. How much schooling can there be?”

  I dug into my reticule for a handkerchief and the fool man gave me his. That scent, his scent, sweet rum was woven into the cloth as were my memories of Demerara. The good ones.

  Balling it up, I tossed it to him, then scooted farther away.

  He followed, slow and easy, pinning me with his shoulder to the end of the pew.

  “Does Catharina know about me, Cells? Do you tell her I ask of her in Charlotte’s letters?”

  “Dolly, she thinks of you as a godmother.”

  My breath burned in my nostrils, my throat with words I couldn’t utter in church. “When do I see her?”

  His lips pressed together. Then he put his hand on mine. “I wanted to ask you later, but I see your eyes. I know you hate me. It’s deserved, but I want you to come back with me. I’ve missed you.”

  I hadn’t thought he’d say that.

  I didn’t think he’d admit to anything.

  I wasn’t going to cry.

  I wasn’t. I wasn’t. I was.

  He smoothed his cloth and patted my cheek. “I know this is a rush, but leave with me on the Dolus. Let me show you my world, mine and Catharina’s.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then you can decide if you want to stay.”

  Cells had thought of this. Plotted out all the pieces like he did with his politicking.

  “I have a life here, responsibilities.”

  “The way we ended was wrong. I was never happier than when I was with you.”

  “I need time.”

  He held my hand close to his hip but nudged his head forward. “The ceremony.”

  Turning back, I saw the groom’s gift of a ring. I heard the couple’s promises of love and fidelity.

  But my tongue tasted bitterness. Cells made a stew of my insides.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. Mr. and Mrs. Fédon.”

  I did everything but run to my daughter, embracing her and my new son-in-law.

  Cells stood right behind me, playing like he’d never left.

  Yet he had, and the hurt wouldn’t be denied, even if it cost me Catharina.

  Dominica 1789: A Dance

  My house was filled with people, all eating black cake and drinking rum. The rum was courtesy of Cells for my daughter’s wedding celebration.

  The chairs I’d borrowed from neighbors left scuff marks against my whitewashed walls.

  Mamaí stood beside me, and I leaned my head on her shoulder. “You’re good to me. I don’t know how I would’ve done th
is for Charlotte, or any of the things you’ve done for Eliza and Frances, without you.”

  “Dolly, you need time. Your head is clearing. If you need to go away for a bit, you can do that, too. I’m here.”

  My wise mother had taken a side, Cells.

  That tarn politicking man convinced Mamaí he deserved another chance. How could she not be swayed? Cells was classic Cells, attentive, working my friends like he did guests at his old parties. If everyone didn’t adore him by the end of the day, it was not because he didn’t try.

  My poor Charlotte. She beamed in his presence. I’d cut my tongue out before I cursed and told the truth.

  Mamaí smoothed my elbow ruffles. The cream linen had flowers and vines printed on it and on cotton voile gathered about the sleeve and round neckline. I used those London magazines to make it. Someday I’d go there, but not with Cells.

  Lizzy came and kissed Mamaí’s and my cheeks. “I have some news, Mama. I’ve been holding off telling you, but with Mr. Cells here, I’m sure he can keep you cheered.”

  “Why don’t you tell me? I’ll decide how to stay cheered.”

  “Coxall is building a house in Demerara. We’re moving there. He’ll manage more of his father’s investments.”

  Both eldest daughters were leaving? “Lizzy, I’m going to miss our Sunday breakfasts.”

  “I know. And you will visit me. Won’t you, Mama?”

  Return to Demerara? I looked at her sweet face, smiling at me. “I’m not losing you again, Lizzy.”

  Coxall came and collected his sobbing wife. “I take it she told you?”

  I wiped my wet eyes. “You keep my girl safe.”

  “Miss Dolly, I will. I love this woman with everything in me.”

  Between the loving and leaving, I needed air and passed Cells preening like the perfect father.

  Julien Fédon looked as if he wanted to toss his glass at him.

  I wished he would.

  Cells represented everything the Fédon boy hated, Anglican and white.

  Funny. Cells was actually neither. Like a color-changing iguana going from cold to heat, he merely blended himself into his surroundings.

  Shaking my head, I went out to my porch.

  Kitty followed and shut the door with a bang. “What a party, Dolly. With Cells and Polk and Mrs. Randolph, it’s like how it used to be.”

  The sun was setting. Rain was up in the mountains, but not here.

  She splayed the ruffles of her striped blue-and-white gown. “Maybe you need to stop having babies. You always get sad because of them.”

  A little hard to tell my womb to stop when I liked a man’s touch. I shrugged. “I keep thinking I’m doing better, Kitty.”

  The tap of a goblet rang. Like a bell, it vibrated in my ear. “Cells must be giving a toast, Dolly.”

  Kitty peeked through the window. “You loved him once.”

  “I was an impressionable girl who needed a hero. I’m my own savior now.”

  My sister hugged me. “Mine, too. I think we need to go to church tonight.”

  “We left church.”

  She wiggled my hips, then clapped a fast rhythm. “No. Your church.”

  Cells came outside. “What’s going on here?”

  “Worship songs.” Kitty smiled wide and bopped her chin. “I’m going to go check on the babies. Oh, Polk is playing his banjo.”

  She danced into my parlor.

  Cells folded his arms. “Going to tell me about your life here in Dominica?”

  “You can see what it is.”

  “There’s some missing things, like why your mother is caring for two beautiful little girls.”

  “She’s a great help.”

  He reached for me but dropped his palms to his sides. “Frances is beautiful.”

  I glared at him.

  “Eliza is lovely, too, Dolly. Edward is smart. You’ve done well.”

  I stepped to the rail and looked out at the street, the passing soldiers. “I did what I had to.”

  He moved closer, his height towering over me. Something familiar whispered into my empty heart. “You haven’t been sitting around waiting for me, but I’ve pined for you.”

  My throat became dry. “I . . . ah . . .”

  “Let me talk, Dolly. I’ve left Fanny.”

  My slapping hand stayed pinned to the rail. “Didn’t you try that before?”

  “I can’t make Fanny happy. We’ve tried. We’re both miserable. There’s no peace. I want her better and away from me. I’ll stay in Scotland and make sure the divorce is finalized. You come back with me too.”

  “No. I’m not going to Scotland with you.” My fingers pulsed on the rail. I could rip it if only they were stronger. “You need to be faithful to that poor woman. How many years has she been deathly ill? She’s put up with enough.”

  His head dipped and he caressed my chin. “I heard you’ve been sad. It’s all my doing. The way I left. The things unsaid between us.”

  I always liked his height, how he made me feel secure standing beside him.

  “What about Demerara? What if you went by Mrs. Cells there? What if we all return to Demerara and live in the Hermitage? I heard Lizzy’s moving to the colony.”

  He kissed my brow and his arms slid around me. He still knew how I liked to be held. The low circles along the bones of my corset made my spine tingle.

  As if a minuet ended, I stepped from him and bowed. “You never fought fair.”

  “No, I never did.” He followed and took my hand, humming and spinning me on my porch.

  “I know what I want. I can be ruthless for it. Another chance with you. Let’s go back to Demerara, Dolly.”

  The way he said my name was like he’d already tasted my lips. Like I’d already given in to him, like I was still the young girl who’d loved him hard.

  But the woman that I’d become knew the divide between us, the years of punishing myself for failing his love.

  It took everything in me to step away, to go through the door of my home like nothing happened.

  Charlotte and the Fédons readied to leave. I kissed her and embraced her.

  My house finally emptied.

  Cells stayed, sitting on my sofa reading to Edward.

  I wanted to scream so bad it hurt. Instead, I gathered dishes. “Cells, you should leave. It’s been a long day.”

  He stood and motioned to Edward to go upstairs.

  After offering this man a hug, my poor sweet boy did. Had I taught him to accept scraps?

  Cells came to me, leaned close to my ear. “Dolly, the Dolus leaves for Demerara at the week’s end. I want you on it. Just a quick trip, the two of us. We were good friends once, we can be lovers and friends, again. You need me. I see the hurt in your eyes as much as I see what we had.”

  A thing like that shouldn’t be there, not now.

  “Dolly, let me take us back to the way things were, the way things should’ve been. And Catharina, she’ll finally have the best, both of us.”

  “What of her other mother? Won’t leaving Fanny hurt my baby?”

  He shrugged. “Catharina is resilient. She’ll adjust in time.”

  Then I realized Cells was the same. He didn’t care for anything but what he wanted. Today, I was his target, and if I bent then I’d be the same, a broken mirror.

  Cells pulled me into his arms, and we fit together like old times, like he hadn’t left me. How do you say no to a force bigger than you?

  You didn’t.

  You pretended. You lied back and took in everything until you could get away. “I’ll think on it, Cells. I’m tired.”

  I pushed him toward the door. “There’s much to consider.”

  At the threshold, he touched my nose and traced its peak. “Then just dinner, tomorrow.”

  “I’ll think on it.”

  One last glance at Coseveldt standing in my threshold took me to the beginning. No drums of rebellion, just my pounding pulse. No smoke, just the ashes of what was our love. In
Montserrat, I let him into my hut, then my heart. This time I closed the door.

  “Tomorrow, Dolly. Dinner. We’ll discuss our children. I’ll come for you.” His voice floated away.

  I shook for I wasn’t sure if he meant just Catharina.

  The one fear I wasn’t immune to, he lobbed at me like a cannonball. It exploded and deepened the well in my chest.

  Kitty came into the room. Then peered out the window. “Mr. Thomas is gone and now Mr. Cells is back.”

  “They aren’t interchangeable.”

  Kitty shrugged. The poor girl probably didn’t understand what I was saying, but maybe they were. They each knew how to hurt me.

  “I think you are right, Kitty. We need to go to church.”

  She tossed a bonnet on my head. “It’s Tuesday. Tuesdays are best to worship by the sea.”

  We headed out the door to the mulatto ball to take communion with a heady rhythm. Music always made everything better. I needed its miracles tonight.

  Dominica 1789: A Fool’s Stance

  Heat bathed the packed ballroom.

  Kitty and I navigated the crowds.

  A fiddler and drummer filled the air with a happy beat that tapped down into my bones.

  Men and women twirled, the music taking each for a whirl about the room. The beat pumped life into my chest. Folks came up and asked Kitty and me to dance, but we declined. Hearing the music was enough.

  Kitty clapped. “I like church, Dolly.”

  I brushed one of her fallen braids swelling in the humidity. “You know this is not truly church.”

  “’Course it is. It heals you. You always come back smiling.”

  A brawl started in the back of the room.

  Men, men in uniform, were punching and breaking things.

  I pulled Kitty behind me, like I’d be better at taking a wild punch.

  Women near the fight ran out of the drawing room.

  Men, the ones not in uniform, began backing away, too. I didn’t blame them. British soldiers could run amuck without any penalties. Free Blacks would be jailed if they did the same.

  “Kitty, let’s go.”

  My sister had become stiff, like her feet had rooted to the floor.

  I put my arm around her. “It’s fine, dear. I’m here. You don’t need to be here with all this noise.”