by Every, Donna
She had come quietly, three times a day with a pot of tea and left Jethro to help him sit up and drink it. He was surprised at how much he looked forward to seeing her come in with the tray of tea even though she didn’t stay. Her hair was always bound in a handkerchief but he could not forget how glorious it looked bouncing against her back as she walked to the house.
Hattie came in both days to wipe him down and get the stale smell of sweat off him, something he was sure that Jethro could do. While he appreciated the bed baths, he found himself irritated with her constant chatter and had to beg her to stop. Moreover he was surprised that he was not the least bit aroused by her ministrations. He put it down to the illness and hoped that it would pass quickly.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Since Jethro had returned to his duties in the house and yard he called, "Come in."
Deborah tentatively poked her head around the door. Noticing that Jethro was absent she hesitated on the threshold.
"Come in," he invited again.
"The mistress got the cook to make some broth to help you build back up your strength and she asked me to bring it up.”
"Thank you. I am grateful for all you did for me when I was ill."
He knew that he did not have to pay her but he had put aside two shillings to gift her with.
"These are for you." He offered her the coins.
Deborah's pride made her want to refuse his money but the conversation she and her mother had had a few days ago about buying their freedom made her hold her tongue. Which was more important, pride or freedom?
"Thank you," she managed, putting down the tray with the broth and taking the coins. She dropped them in her pocket and was heading for the door when he stopped her.
"Read to me for a while. I'm dying of boredom."
She hesitated, glanced at the door she'd left open and back at him.
“Slaves are not supposed to read.”
"Just for a few minutes," he coaxed with a charming smile. "You can read while I eat. You had better close the door then so that no-one sees you."
This was said so differently from the way William had ordered her to close the door that she obeyed with no feeling of trepidation.
"Ok," she agreed looking around for somewhere to sit. Did she really have any choice?
"I'll sit on the bed and you can have this chair."
With that he crossed to the bed and propped up the pillows so that he could sit up. Deborah handed him the bowl of broth and took the book that was on the bedside table.
Turning the chair towards the bed, she sat down and the warmth that had been left by his body in the chair cocooned her, giving her an unwanted feeling of intimacy with him.
She read the title on the cover of the book: “The True and Exact History of the Island of Barbadoes 1657 by Richard Ligon.”
"I've been increasing my knowledge of Barbados," he said. "This book is very insightful; although I'm sure the island has changed a lot since Mr. Ligon wrote his true and exact history. I've marked my place."
Richard waited for her to find the place he had marked and was not disappointed when he saw streaks of red appear on her cheekbones and her nostrils flared slightly in anger. She refused to look up at him.
"‘Observations upon the shape of Negroes,’" she read stiffly.
Deborah was mortified to read aloud the account about the female form of negroes written by Mr. Ligon, as if he were a student of science and was simply making observations of some life form that was not human. Why did he not write a similar piece on the form of white women? She was sure that the nephew was doing this on purpose! She set her face and continued tonelessly.
"'The young maids have ordinarily very large breasts, which stand out so hard and firm, as no leaning, jumping, or stirring, will cause them to shake anymore than the brawn of their arms. But when they come to be old, and have had five or six children, their breasts hang down below their navels, so that when they stoop at their common work of weeding...'"
“What is going on here?" The mistress demanded throwing open the door. From her outraged tone, one would think that she had found them indulging in more inappropriate behavior than reading. Deborah was almost relieved to see her although she knew it would mean trouble.
"I asked Deborah to read for me while I ate my broth," Richard explained calmly.
"Slaves are not allowed to read!" His aunt replied, "If you want someone to read to you, one of your cousins will do it. I'm sure that Deborah has work to do in the kitchen. Take yourself off, girl! I will deal with you later," she added dismissing her with a shooing motion of her hand.
Deborah gritted her teeth to hold back a remark that would be guaranteed to earn her the flogging that she was sure the mistress was itching to give her. Seething with the humiliation of being dismissed like a dog, she dropped the book on the chair and left the room without another word, head held high.
"You're going to give that girl ideas. She already acts ..."
The mistress' voice became inaudible as Deborah walked down the hallway, anger infusing her body and making her back straight.
The nephew knew that slaves were not encouraged to read or write so he should never have asked her to read to him. She had no choice but to obey him and in doing so she had stirred up the wrath of his aunt. She wished that he had never come to Barbados. She had a feeling that his visit would mean nothing but trouble for her.
“She already acts as if she’s not a slave! Have you ever seen her with her eyes cast down?” his aunt continued. Richard wisely kept silent.
“I don’t know what it is like in Carolina, but in Barbados we do not encourage our slaves to read and write. It will only help them to plan rebellions.” This was said more calmly. “We’ve had several uprisings in the past, the last was but a few years ago and I for one am mortally afraid of it happening again, and successfully this time. We heard that the slaves were planning to kill the masters and take as wives only the mistresses who were comely.” She shivered in distaste. “Thankfully it was discovered before it came to pass.”
“I’m sorry, aunt. We have similar laws in Carolina for that same reason. It’s easy to forget that Deborah is a slave, especially since she’s so well spoken.” And beautiful, he added silently.
“Exactly my point! She certainly does not act like one and that is the fault of Thomas. As I said before, he lets her do as she likes. However I will deal with her and remind her that she’s nothing but a slave in this house.”
“Please don’t punish her for this,” Richard protested. “I asked her to read and she could hardly disobey me, so it’s not really her fault.” His aunt nodded reluctantly, unable to argue with that.
“As you say.” She smiled briefly to allow him to think she would let the matter rest there. “I hope to see you downstairs later now that you’re feeling better.”
Elizabeth shut the door behind her carefully although she really wanted to slam it in frustration.
What was it about that girl? Had she used witchcraft on the men in the family? Thomas favored her, William was obsessed with her and now it seemed as if she was working her spell on Richard. She couldn’t believe that he had her reading to him. And he actually said that he forgot she was a slave! The girl must have put something in his tea to bewitch him.
What next? Would he be inviting her to dine with them instead of serving them at dinner? The girl had caused enough disruption in her family.
Chapter 11
As soon as Richard was better, Elizabeth began to plan his party. Once they had set the date she and the girls spent a whole day writing letters of invitation, which they got Jethro to deliver on horseback. In addition to their closest friends, they had invited the governor, members of the House of Assembly and other high officials in the island.
No expense was to be spared on the party to introduce Richard to the Barbadian settlers; or at least those that mattered. The menu they selected boasted, along with local fare, imported foods such as pickl
ed oysters, caviar, olives and anchovies as well as a variety of desserts.
Once the invitations had gone out Elizabeth called together all the house slaves and announced that she was having a party to introduce her nephew to their friends and acquaintances in two weeks and were expecting about 100 people.
“We will use the sitting room for the party so the furniture will have to be removed. Jethro your job will be to act as butler and direct the guests to the sitting room. Deborah, Cassie and Hattie you will serve. We will have light food rather than a big meal. I will borrow one or two of the skilled workers to serve the drinks.”
“Sally you will need to wash all the glasses and small plates we have before the party. Get the girls to help you. I have some material that I bought in Town recently and Sarah you are to make an outfit for Jethro and dresses for the girls to serve in so that I won’t be disgraced by their appearance. I will draw a sketch for you to follow. OK, you can get back to work now.”
“This is so exciting, mother!” exclaimed Mary. “We’ve not had a party in ages.”
“You can wear your new dresses that we bought in Town last month so that you look your best when the eligible young men come. There are so few of them here in Barbados, we might be forced to send you to England to wed.”
They tittered excitedly.
“I’m sure our friends will faint dead away when they see how handsome cousin Richard is,” Rachel boasted.
“I’m just glad that he’s put back on a bit of weight,” admitted Elizabeth. “He had looked so drawn after his illness. I felt simply terrible!”
“He’s fine now mother.”
Richard had felt well enough to venture out with Thomas by the Wednesday and Elizabeth was glad that he no longer had any cause to interact with Deborah. She made sure that Hattie and Cassie served dinner and she knew that Hattie went to his room some nights. There was little that happened in the house that she did not know.
She had no problem with him bedding Hattie; after all that’s what men did. Hattie was harmless. Deborah, on the other hand, was not and she intended to make sure that Richard didn’t lose his head over her, like William did. The less he saw of her the better.
The mistress gave Sarah a sketch of a dress and several yards of coarse blue linen with a smaller amount of blue and white striped material to make the dresses and aprons for the girls. When she had finished making them, Deborah tried on hers, took one look at the bold neckline which would no doubt draw the attention of the male attendees of the party and declared that she would not wear it.
"Child, you don't have any choice; the mistress told me how to make the dresses."
"I don't want all of those men eyeing me and thinking that I am available. I’m not wearing it!"
“So what you going to wear then?"
Deborah thought for a moment and then remembered the beautiful green satin dress that her mother had given her on her sixteenth birthday.
"I'll wear the dress that you gave me when I turned sixteen. I haven't had anywhere to wear it before."
"That would look real nice but the mistress will be vexed if you don’t wear the dress that I made. Girl, you looking to upset the mistress? What I goin' tell her when she sees that you not dressed like Cassie and Hattie? I would have to ask the master if you could wear it since he is the one that gave me the material to make the dress for you. He don’t really get involved in things to do with the house though so I don’t know what he will say.”
"Yes, talk to the master because I am not wearing that dress.”
Although Sarah planned to get the Master’s permission, she had a bad feeling about it since she knew that the mistress had not been happy with Deborah since she had found her reading to the nephew and this would only make things worse. She wished that Deborah was not so stubborn; it would only lead to trouble.
Deborah opened the trunk where she had carefully packed the dress nearly two years ago. Although she had put some sachets of dried flowers in its folds, it was slightly musty so she shook it out and took it outside to drape it over a nearby bush to air. She would get her mother to iron it when she was doing the other two.
It was truly beautiful and showed her mother's fine talent with a needle. More important the neckline was respectable and would not attract lustful eyes. Her mother's talent was truly wasted as a slave, doing the laundry, ironing and sewing for the family when she could be making a living as a seamstress if she was free.
Deborah sighed as heaviness settled over her like a mantle. Would they ever be free? She knew that wearing the dress would rouse the mistress' anger but she was prepared to face the consequences to experience the freedom to choose what she wanted to do just once. At least her dress would make her feel free, if only for one night.
Deborah plaited her hair and coiled it around her head in a coronet. The style emphasized her slender neck and sculptured cheekbones and made her look more exotic than usual.
Picking up the freshly pressed dress she stepped into it and Sarah came to help her button it up. As she turned around, tears sprang unexpectedly to Sarah's eyes.
"You look like a beautiful free woman tonight. None of those women will be able to hold a candle to you but I hope you ready to deal with the mistress. Although the master said that he didn’t see why it should matter what dress you wear, when the mistress she see you she ain' going to be too happy."
"Tonight, I don't care. I feel like a free woman." The feeling was addictive and she wanted more already.
She and Sarah headed to the kitchen which was already a hive of activity. Their entrance brought a sudden hush as the house slaves noticed Deborah.
"Girl, you look like the mistress of the house," said Cassie in awe.
"How come you ain' dress like us?" Hattie asked. The dress fitted her well and the daringly low neckline emphasized her ample bosom.
"I have no desire to make anyone think I'm offering anything other than the food." Deborah retorted.
"That dress look real nice, Deborah. Where you get that from?" Sally asked her.
"My mother made it for my sixteenth birthday."
"Girl, you goin' turn some heads tonight. Hattie, the nephew may call for Deborah tonight instead of you," Cassie teased. Hattie glared at her and said nothing. Deborah fervently hoped not.
She couldn't help the shiver that went down her back at the thought. For a moment she wondered if she had made a mistake by dressing as she had. She hadn't wanted to bring attention to herself with the revealing dress but was she doing it anyway by setting herself apart?
Jethro appeared in the doorway. "The mistress said that you can start serving the food. A good set of people here already."
That started a flurry of activity as the cook began to hand out trays of food for the girls to take out. Deborah hung back as long as she could but eventually took her tray from the cook and headed for the dining room.
Richard tried to remember the people he had been introduced to as he stood with the family to greet their guests. The Bayleys, the Newtons, the Watermans, the Littletons, the Pierces, the Sharps. His head was swirling with all the names and he knew that he would remember few.
They were dressed as finely as the gentry in England and in fact many of them were from among that class who had relocated to Barbados to capitalize on the wealth to be had on the island. He knew that they must be deathly hot in the imported fashions which were terribly unsuited to the climate. He certainly felt warm in his jacket and waistcoat over a fine linen shirt and breeches. The cool breeze blowing through the doors that opened onto the balcony was a welcome relief.
"Christopher, it has been a long time.” His uncle greeted a man who was several years older than himself. He was richly attired and his waistcoat strained to contain the paunch which betrayed his love for food.
"I haven't been out much since my wife passed away."
"Yes, of course. This is Elizabeth’s nephew Richard Fairfax from Carolina. Richard this is Christopher Coverley, one of the richest
men in Barbados." Coverley laughed but Richard noticed that he didn't deny it.
"Good to meet you. What brings you to Barbados?" he asked extending his hand.
"Business.”
“What business are you in?”
“My family is in shipping but I'm looking to get into rice production when I go back."
"Rice. Sounds good. We need to talk later and see how we can do business together."
"I look forward to that," said Richard shaking his hand again.
"I think we can stop the formal greetings now and mingle with our guests. Anyone who comes later can meet Richard as we circulate." Thomas said.
He was anxious to talk to some of the other planters about Jamaica and the growing sugar industry there which could be a threat to theirs. Maybe he should invest in Jamaica.
"Yes,” agreed Elizabeth. “I think most of our guests are here anyway and I'm getting weary of stand..." She bit off her words abruptly as a vision of beauty proffering a tray came into sight. It was Deborah in a beautiful satin gown that looked as well made as some that were worn by the guests. The family turned to see what had caught her attention.
Richard's breath caught at the sight of Deborah's striking profile as she smiled politely at a group of planters. They seemed to him to be taking their time selecting whatever she was offering and the way they were devouring her with their eyes, he could just imagine what they wished she was offering.
He had never seen her in anything other than the plainest garb which she seemed to wear like armor, so the sight of her in satin, as well dressed as any of the guests, hit him squarely in the chest. A lot lower the truth be told. He was surprised at the possessiveness he felt on seeing the men's reaction to her. It was not as if she was his but he certainly wanted her to be.
He glanced at his aunt to see her tighten her lips before she made excuses and ushered the girls to greet some friends, leaving Richard and Thomas alone.
