The Price of Freedom

by Every, Donna

  Richard found her there half an hour later, still distraught. The sight of her misery unexpectedly touched his heart and made him want to hold her in his arms as he had done that day by the whipping post, but he knew that she would reject his comfort this time. He dropped down next to her, leaned back against the tree and looked out at the view. Immediately she shifted until there was distance between them and dried her eyes, adopting a stoic expression.

  “You know there are many women who would be happy to be owned by me?” Richard provoked. He was glad to see fire flash in her eyes and she snapped, “I’m not one of them! I don’t want to be owned by anyone!”

  “Well unfortunately for you, you will be owned by me so you’d better adopt a respectful tone before I beat you.”

  Her head swung around to him in shock. “You wouldn’t!” She didn’t seem as certain as she sounded.

  “No I wouldn’t, Deborah. Listen, I have a proposition for you. I have promised to pay my uncle £20 for you, a real bargain I might add, but I have told him I will free you when I leave Barbados.”

  Once again shocked eyes met his, this time with a glimmer of hope in them.

  “I don’t believe you!” she accused. “Why would you do that?”

  “I can’t take you back to Carolina with me, for obvious reasons.”

  “What is your proposition?”

  “While I am in Barbados you will come to my bed willingly whenever I call for you provided, of course, you are not indisposed.” At this Deborah blushed furiously giving away her lie.

  “You lied!” Richard accused her now as he saw the guilt on her face. He had to laugh at her quick thinking and he knew, without a doubt that he would not be bored for the remainder of his time in Barbados.

  “You expect me to prostitute myself for my freedom?”

  “Well it’s a lot better than dying for your freedom, do you not agree?”

  “That is a matter of opinion,” she said so softly that he could barely hear her.

  “Why is sleeping with me so appalling to you? Surely you are not innocent of the intimacy between men and women?”

  She was silent for so long that he thought she would not answer him. When she finally spoke, her voice was hard.

  “No. Your cousin brutally introduced me to it when I was sixteen. He had been eyeing me for months and enjoyed taunting me like a cat with a mouse and then when he got tired of his game, he pretended to be ill one night and asked for me to bring some tea to his room and then he took what he wanted. He always got what he wanted. And he wanted me.”

  Richard was shocked at the surge of anger that erupted in him at the thought of William violating her. If his cousin was in front of him now he would be hard pressed not to beat him senseless. Although he was already clearly without sense. Snatches of conversations dropped into his mind and the pieces began to fall into place.

  “Is that why he was sent away?”

  “Partly, but I think he was in trouble with some merchants in town as well.”

  “Deborah, I would never hurt you in that way. You can trust me.”

  She was torn. Could she offer herself willingly to Richard in exchange for her freedom? It was so tempting. She now mocked herself for judging the women who sold themselves for the money to buy their freedom. Would she be any different? Could she give up her self respect and the rights to her body for her freedom? Was she willing to pay the price? Then again she didn’t have any rights to her body now anyway. He could buy her and just use her at his will if he wanted to. He didn’t even have to buy her; he could have her for free as long as the master gave his permission. So why was he buying her?

  Freedom beckoned to her. It was what she’d always longed for, what she’d always dreamed of and now it was within her reach. All she had to do was give herself to him willingly. That was all. That was all.

  It’s wrong. A voice in her head chided her. Jethro’s voice saying, that if they sinned they would be slaves to sin, echoed in her head adding to the other voice. She ignored both. She could be free in two months!

  Richard waited in anticipation. He really didn’t need her agreement. Once he signed those papers she would be his and he could do whatever he wanted with her. However the thought of being with her against her will did not sit well with him, especially in light of what she had just revealed to him.

  With great deliberation she turned to him and said, “I will do it. I will come to you willingly while you are here in exchange for my freedom. How can I be sure that you will free me when you leave?”

  “You will have to trust me. And I need you to keep that to yourself for now because my aunt does not know.”

  At Thomas’ request, his lawyer had prepared manumission papers at the same time as the sale documents but he would not tell her that. For some reason he wanted her to trust him. He reminded himself yet again that she was just a slave; she had no right to question his integrity. She really didn’t even have to agree to come to him willingly, but what pleasure would there be in forcing her? He wanted her to come to him of her own free will although, he acknowledged with a twinge of conscience, the lure of freedom was almost unfair bait. Still, he had given her a choice and she had taken it.

  Deborah looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity in them and for the first time in her life she felt hope and a song was birthed in her soul. It was a song of freedom.

  Deborah returned to the house in high spirits to find the slaves in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones which fell into silence at her appearance. Nobody seemed to know what to say.

  Sarah rushed over to her asking worriedly, “Where you went girl? What the master tell you?”

  “Cassie was right. It is me he is selling, but only to Master Richard.”

  “What? He going back in two months. What he want to buy you for? He going take you back to Carolina with him?” Sarah’s voice rose in panic.

  Deborah hesitated, not sure how to answer but she was saved by Hattie butting in. “Master Richard buying you? For what? He never even called you to his room!” she added jealously.

  “So you still going to work in the house? What you going to do?” This was from Cassie.

  “I don’t know. They have not signed any papers yet so I don’t know what will happen. I was so scared when the master told me that he was selling me and although I don’t want anything to do with Master Richard, I am glad that it is to him and not anybody else. At least I will still be here. For now anyway.”

  “That mean, he ain’ going be calling for me anymore?” Hattie asked glaring at Deborah.

  “Girl, what you think?” asked Cassie rhetorically.

  “That real unfair. She always getting the best of everything. You think that you better than us,” she said turning to Deborah, “but you just a slave too.” With that she ran out of the kitchen.

  Hattie was right. She was just a slave. She had simply exchanged one master for another and she had agreed to give her body to her new master in exchange for her freedom. Who was she to judge Hattie or anyone else? She was no better than they were. In truth she was worse because they saw nothing wrong with what they did. She, however, believed that it was wrong and she was still going to do it anyway.

  Chapter 17

  The cart driven by Jethro bounced over the rough roads and Richard was glad that he had chosen to ride his horse as his uncle sat beside Jethro enduring the bumpy ride. They were heading to a plantation in St. Peter, which had run into financial trouble and was selling off slaves today, to find one to replace Jacko. His uncle had said that he would also take a look at the house girls since he would be without Deborah and possibly Sarah in a couple of months.

  Richard could not believe how his visit to Barbados was turning out. When he left Carolina he never imagined that he would end up owning a slave, far less one as beautiful as Deborah. He had signed the ownership papers only yesterday and now was £20 poorer but he felt richer for his possession. He owned Deborah. The thought gave him a feeling of power and excitement.


  It was Thursday but he would make himself wait until Saturday night before he called for her. He wanted to take his time and he didn't want to have to get up and go out on the plantation the following day. Besides anticipation was half the pleasure.

  His aunt was patently displeased about the sale of Deborah to him. She had wanted her sold and Richard could imagine that she had hoped for a cruel master to buy her. He had not even told her that he had planned to free Deborah when he left. She would no doubt feel that Deborah had once again triumphed over her. He had asked her not to mention the purchase if she wrote to his mother; he would prefer if they never knew of his madness.

  Yesterday his uncle had summoned Deborah to his office after they had signed the papers to tell her that she was now owned by him. Richard recalled the panic in her eyes as they met his briefly before it was replaced by the blank look that she was so skilled at adopting. He wondered if she regretted their agreement.

  Even in her usual drab clothing with her hair hidden in a handkerchief she was beautiful and he felt the pride of possession. She was now his. He couldn't prevent the quick smile that flitted across his face as he eyed her from head to toe and thought with a great deal of satisfaction, ‘Mine’.

  The cart turning up a driveway shifted his attention and dragged him back into the present. In the distance he could see a plantation house that looked as if it hadn’t had a coat of paint in several years with a few of the shutters hanging drunkenly against the windows. It was obvious that the owner had no extra money to spend on maintaining the house.

  There were already several horses and carts in the yard but Jethro found a place to park under a shady tree. Richard swung down from his horse and tied it to the cart as his uncle alighted with an agility that belied his age. He greeted several of the planters that hung around chatting while they waited for the sale to begin. Richard recognized most of them from the party and reacquainted himself with them.

  “You looking for more slaves Thomas?” asked John Bowyer as a way of greeting them.

  “One of my boys lost his hand in the mill last week and I need to find one to replace him. I may also take a look at the house slaves because I just sold Deborah to Richard.”

  John spluttered into the jug of water he was drinking. “I thought she wasn’t for sale! I would have paid you handsomely for her.”

  “Well Richard was persistent and the wife was beginning to nag about getting rid of her and Sarah.”

  “You selling Sarah?” he asked unbelievingly.

  “Not yet, but no harm in looking.”

  The owner of the plantation, an unkempt looking man who had the bloated look of a heavy drinker, invited the planters to draw nearer as the overseer brought out the slaves. The men were dressed in ragged pants and no shirts while most of the women wore skirts only, their breasts bare for all to see.

  Richard looked around at the planters and noticed that no-one seemed to think this state of undress to be unusual. Perhaps his uncle clothed his slaves better than most.

  The slaves were led forward one at a time with their attributes listed for the buyers. Richard’s uncle appraised him of what to look for in a quiet voice.

  “Look for strong arms and shoulders. Check for whip marks on their backs because that can tell if the slave is either lazy or rebellious. You don’t want those. Check the eyes to see if they are yellow or white which will tell you if they are healthy or not.”

  Richard nodded and watched as his uncle approached a tall strapping looking fellow and examined him. The man’s expressionless face reminded him of Deborah’s and a fleeting thought of what the man was thinking about this physical examination passed through his mind.

  His uncle made an offer for him when his turn came to be auctioned and acquired him for £30. He was not interested in buying any more women for the fields so he waited until the house slaves were brought out.

  There were only three women and one young girl who could be about thirteen who clung to one of the women to whom she bore a strong resemblance. They were not bad looking women but none could compare to the house slaves at The Acreage. Richard now realized that his uncle’s reputation for having the most beautiful house slaves was not exaggerated.

  “I don’t see any that I fancy to replace Deborah,” confided his uncle. As if Deborah could be replaced, thought Richard.

  “I need a young girl to help my wife,” one of the planters announced. “I’ll pay £15 for that one there,” he offered pointing at the terrified slave girl. Since no-one else was interested in such a young slave the owner nodded his acceptance and indicated that he could come and get her.

  The girl didn’t seem to understand that she had been sold and continued to cling to her mother. The planter sent his boy to get her and take her to their cart while he paid his money and did the paperwork to transfer ownership.

  Richard stood transfixed at the trauma that unfolded before his eyes. Mother and daughter clung to each other, and began to scream at the master. The slave who was sent to collect her pulled at her waist while the mother tried to beat him off with one hand while holding her daughter with the other. The overseer rushed forward with his whip raised and threatened to use it if they did not stop the ruckus.

  Remembering the welts on Deborah’s back Richard hoped that the fear of the whip would restrain them, but the pain of being torn apart was obviously greater than the fear of the whip. When they still refused to part he brought down the whip across the mother’s back and she arched her back and instinctively loosened her hold on the girl, giving the slave the opportunity to grab her and run with her under his arm like a sack of flour.

  The girl’s screaming and crying were haunting but the pure anguish in the eyes of the mother, not knowing if she would ever see her child again, or what fate awaited her at the hands of this new master, pierced the indifference that had been built around his heart and he knew beyond all doubt, that the belief held by many of the planters that these slaves were creatures with no intellect or emotions was a lie.

  The journey back was silent and Richard wondered if the others were also in shock over what had transpired. He soon realized by surreptitiously looking at their calm and unaffected faces, that it was only him who had been shaken by the traumatic parting. This was nothing unusual for his uncle or even for Jethro; it was part of life on the plantation. Slaves were bought and sold with as little emotion as buying a horse, probably even less.

  Is that how Deborah felt when he bought her? As if she was little more than a farm animal? He had thought she was overreacting but now he saw firsthand what it truly meant to be a slave and he felt sick inside that he may have made Deborah feel that way. Did he feel bad enough to free her now, rather than when he was leaving? A battle waged between his conscience and his flesh and his conscience surrendered after a half-hearted fight. He just did not have the strength to release her before he had his fill of her. He cursed his weakness but found that he had no real desire to be strong.

  On reaching the plantation, Richard handed the reins of the horse to the stable boy and headed straight for the grove overlooking the East Coast. He needed the calmness of the scenery to penetrate his disturbed thoughts and be a balm for the guilt that was pricking at his conscience.

  He shed his jacket and leaned back against the smoothness of the tree trunk, opening the first few buttons of his shirt to allow the breeze access to his chest. The beauty of the evening soothed his soul and settled his thoughts until he was able to justify his decision not to free Deborah right away.

  He reasoned that they had reached an agreement, which she had made of her own free will, so he was not deceiving her in any way or forcing her to do anything against her will. He would free her at the end of the two months when he went back to Carolina and he would have had what he wanted and she would have the freedom which she desired.

  With that decision made he got up and headed towards Deborah’s hut. His uncle had told him that the girls would be ready to move into th
e house on Saturday and he was glad that Deborah would not have to leave her hut in the yard to come to him at night.

  He knocked at the door and it was opened by Deborah who stepped outside to greet him. He was pleased to see that her hair was not concealed under the handkerchief but she was in her usual skirt and blouse. He would have to see about getting her some more attractive clothing for the duration of his visit.

  “Hello Deborah. Did my uncle tell you that we signed the papers today?”

  “Yes. That’s why I’m not helping with dinner tonight. I understand that you will have to give permission if you want me to help in the house since I now belong to you.” The latter was said almost bitterly.

  “Well, you should be glad that I’m a generous master because I am giving you the next two days off to rest and prepare yourself.”

  “You are indeed a generous master,” she said sarcastically. “I am not any more tired than usual so why do I need to rest? And what am I to prepare myself for?”

  He leaned closer and said: “For me. I want you to come to my room on Saturday night after dinner. Wear the green dress that you wore to the party.” Richard saw dread fill her eyes as she realized that he truly owned her now and what that meant.

  “Very well, Master Richard,” her voice shook slightly.

  “I like this new obedience, Deborah. While you’re being so accommodating, how about a kiss to seal our bargain?” he teased.

  She stepped back, expecting him to kiss her mouth but instead he took one of her hands and planted a moist, warm kiss in the palm, lingering for a few moments as he searched her eyes.

  Deborah snatched her hand away as tingles ran up her arm but the heat remained, as if he had branded her for the entire world to know that she now belonged to Richard Fairfax.