by Becky Lower
The woman’s eyes became even more frightened. “It be me they’ze after. Me and my baby Titus.” She curled her arms around her son, who had fallen asleep.
“That’s what we figured,” George shook his head as he responded. “We’ll keep you here tonight, at least. Maybe they’ll be gone by morning and we can get you back to Downing’s so you can continue on your way.”
The woman’s eyes grew huge, and she tried again to rise from the bed. Heather took hold of her hands. “Please lie down. My family doesn’t believe in slavery. We certainly won’t be sending you back to the south.”
“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe no one.”
Heather sat on the bed next to the woman. “I can understand your hesitation. Your life cannot have been easy, and finding that there are people in this world willing to help you get away from that existence must be an odd feeling. But, forgive me, I’m completely forgetting my manners.” She held out her hand. “My name is Heather Fitzpatrick.” She nodded to her father. “This man is my father, George Fitzpatrick.”
The woman’s mouth fell open as she looked at Heather’s outstretched hand. She slowly extended her hand and clasped Heather’s. “I, uh, I’ze called Sally. My boy is Titus, named for his father.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sally. Where is Titus’s father?”
Sally’s eyes filled with tears. “My husband done got sold to another plantation. He ain’t never even seen our boy.”
Tears formed at the back of Heather’s eyes, too. She placed a hand on Sally’s arm. “Trust me that no harm will come to you or baby Titus while you’re with us.”
They sat in silence for another several minutes. Then, Charlotte came bustling back into the room.
“I checked on Jasmine and the other children, and everyone is asleep, so we will not be noticed out here. I pulled together some diapers and some baby clothes.” She turned to the young woman. “I don’t know if your child is a boy or a girl, so I brought some of each type of clothing, figuring that maybe dressing the baby in clothing opposite from the true gender might help you not be so quickly detected.”
She leaned over the young Negro woman. “What is your name, child?”
“I’m Sally, ma’am.”
“Well, Sally. I’m Charlotte Fitzpatrick, and we’re going to help you.”
Sally looked at the Fitzpatricks. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Heather grabbed the woman in a hug. “Just travel safe for the rest of your trip, and have faith that your husband will join you someday.” She rose to her feet.
George put an arm around Charlotte and Heather. “If you’ll promise us you won’t run off until we can take you back to Downing’s in the morning, we’ll leave you to take care of Titus and let the two of you get some sleep. Robert, bring a bucket of warm water and some soap for the lady. Then, join us in the house. You’ll sleep there tonight.”
Tears filled Heather’s eyes as she stepped back from the slave. She vowed Sally would never return to her life in the south. She would not be caught and be sent back. Heather would make certain of it.
Heather and Charlotte embraced as they walked from the carriage house to the brownstone. Charlotte cautioned her daughter. “I guess you and I truly are part of the anti-slavery movement now, and not just with talk. You mustn’t ever tell anyone about this little episode.”
“Not even Jasmine?”
Charlotte took a step away from Heather. “Dear Lord, especially not Jasmine! That girl couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. I know you and Jasmine have never kept things from each other since the day you were born, but in this case, it’s essential. You did a good deed tonight, to help that young lady on her way to a better future.”
“And little Titus.”
“Yes, the baby tugged at my heartstrings, too. Hopefully, he’ll never know slavery. We must get them back to Downing’s and on the Underground Railroad before either Jasmine or those nasty slave mongers find out about them.”
Chapter 3
Heather was too wound up to even consider sleep and followed her mother into the parlor. “Mother, did you know the lieutenant was a southerner when you invited him here for the Cotillion?”
“We had only a couple of minutes to talk when I met him last fall. I detected a bit of an accent then, but I was as surprised as you to discover he was from Savannah. I’m certain his father is a slave owner. That’s why he was with those two bounty hunters tonight. But he’s here now, at my invitation, so we must go through with our plans to have him dance with you and Jasmine at the ball. Did you like him?”
“Well, yes, of course. He does cut a handsome figure. But, I’ve read the newspaper articles about what happens to abolitionists in the south. Being imprisoned for their beliefs is the least of the punishments meted out to folks who take a stand against slavery. More often than not, they’re strung up to twist in the wind as they die. I think perhaps we should leave him to Jasmine.”
Charlotte ran her hand over Heather’s hair. “Perhaps you’re right. Jasmine has no feelings one way or the other regarding the slavery issue.” She gazed into her daughter’s eyes. “But, I consider myself a pretty good judge in matters of the heart, and unless I miss my guess entirely, he fancies you.”
Heather’s breath caught in her throat. Her mother did have an uncanny knack of being able to gauge a man’s interest in one of her girls. Was she right this time? Could David really be interested in her?
She jumped up and began to pace the room. Her stomach was doing flip-flops and she didn’t know how to calm herself down.
“Do you really think he’s interested in me?” She glanced over at Charlotte with a hopeful expression on her face. “I felt some attraction when we were introduced, but if I even set foot in the south, anyone who finds out about my involvement with Sally can have me arrested.” She pulled the gloves off her hands in rapid movements, and wrung her bare hands together.
“Collect yourself, my dear. No one will find out about your involvement with Sally if you can keep it a secret from Jasmine. We now must figure out how to get her back to Downing’s in the morning.”
“It’s not just Sally. I want to do more to help the runaways, now that I know they exist here in New York. I mean, I’ve known they exist here. I listen to what’s being said at our abolitionist meetings. But seeing one face to face has changed my perspective. It’s no longer a concept but a harsh reality. Could we take some clothing and shoes to Mr. Downing tomorrow when we go ask him about Sally? You saw the threadbare dress she had on. And she definitely needs some shoes.”
Charlotte looked up at her daughter. “How is it that my quiet daughter is now so impassioned?”
“Because Sally is my age, Mother. But for the grace of God, that could easily have been me. I identified with her, and her plight, and now I want to help in any way I can. I know I have some clothing that I don’t wear anymore.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Heather. But tonight, you need to put all thoughts of slavery and abolition from your mind. You need to get your sleep. After all, you and Jasmine are being introduced to society in a few short days.”
Chapter 4
Looking over her shoulder before ducking into the dark alley, Heather followed her mother to the back of Downing’s Restaurant. They both carried bundles in their arms. Charlotte knocked on a door that led from the alley into the restaurant. Mounds of oyster shells were stacked nearby. Heather wrinkled her nose at the pungent smell of rotting seafood as they waited for admittance.
The door finally opened quietly and they hurried into the bright, noisy kitchen. Without a word, they were led to the downstairs rooms, which housed the offices of the restaurant staff. When Charlotte cleared her throat, Thomas Downing looked up from his desk. His face registered surprise as he smiled at them.
“Ah, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, Miss Fitzpatrick, how nice to see you again.”
“We wanted to bring you some clothes we no longer need. Perhaps you ca
n find someone who might make use of them?”
They opened their bundles to show the array of housedresses, children’s clothing and underthings. Thomas looked at them appreciatively.
“Let me get my son, George. He will have more use for this than I will. I merely operate a restaurant. He runs the depot stop.”
Thomas hurried out of the office and down the hall. Quickly, he returned with George Downing, who glanced at the mound of clothing on the desk. “Thank you both. I do have someone in need of new clothing, so this will definitely help.”
Thomas moved his gaze from the clothing to the women. “May I extend another apology to you both for having your dinner cut short last night? Those slave mongers don’t seem to mind destroying my restaurant’s reputation by interrupting business to find their missing persons.”
“Oh, Thomas, that’s quite all right,” Charlotte responded. “We know it was out of your control. However, we did happen to find something as we left that I think would be of interest to you and George.”
“What?”
Heather stood on her tiptoes and held on to George’s arm as she whispered to the men. “We found who the slave mongers were looking for, in the alley near your back door.”
George shut the door to the office before he turned to the women. Despite the relative privacy of his office, he still spoke in a whisper as he asked, “What did you do with her? And the babe?”
Charlotte replied, “We did the only logical thing we could think of, and took her home with us. She and the baby are staying in our carriage house until we can deliver them back to you.”
“You mustn’t bring her back here. The bounty hunters have gone on upstate, which is where she will head next, so she must stay put for a week or so, until her trail goes cold. And one person has stayed behind to watch for her here.”
“Whatever shall we do?” Heather asked.
Charlotte seemed to be lost in her own thoughts for a moment. Then, she brightened and turned to George Downing. “I have it!” Charlotte said as she grabbed Heather’s hands in her own. “We’ll employ her as a lady’s maid, to help Colleen get you and Jasmine ready for the Cotillion. Since there are two of you to dress, she’ll need the extra help.”
“Yes, that might work,” George whispered back. “I need to speak to her, though.”
“Yes, well of course. That’s why we’re here.” Charlotte grinned at the men. “Since we missed dinner last night, we would like to place an order to be delivered to the house. Could you arrange it?”
Thomas replied, “I will personally see to it, and I’ll have George deliver it to your home in an hour. It’s the least we can do, to make up for last evening.”
• • •
Sally was freshly scrubbed and dressed in new clothing when Charlotte and Heather returned from the restaurant. “Hello, ma’am, miss. It’s good to see you agin. My angels who was lookin’ over me.”
Charlotte sat beside the woman and brushed the baby’s head with her hand. “I’m a mother nine times over, so I could never turn my back on this little one.” She looked into Sally’s dark eyes as she continued. “Mr. Downing tells me it’s not safe for you to leave New York City right now, and I happen to be in need of a lady’s maid for my daughters for a week or two, so we’ll give you a job in the house to help get my girls ready for the Cotillion. George Downing will be here in an hour or so to tell you what he knows.”
Sally glanced up at her benefactors. “I’m obliged to your family for my life, and my boy’s. I’ze more than happy to help out. But who can watch my boy for me?”
“We have a nursery that hasn’t been used for years, since my youngest is now eight. With a bit of dusting, it will be a wonderful place for him to stay during the day. In fact, you can bed down there at night with him.” Charlotte nodded her head for emphasis. “When it’s safe for you to leave, I’ll see to it that you are taken by coach to Niagara so you can continue your journey. This will work out just fine.”
Chapter 5
The matching white dresses for the twins were sewn and hung in their armoires to be unveiled at the Cotillion ball, still one day away. But the satin slippers that the handsome French cobbler created for them needed to be broken in, or the girls would risk having sore feet halfway through the evening. So today they were prancing around the house in their fine slippers. After practicing gliding down the staircase, executing perfect curtsies and walking through every room in the house, they were taking a well-deserved break.
Heather sat in the most comfortable chair in the room, one hand holding a book while the other hand played with one of her brunette ringlets. She dangled her feet over the side of the chair and swung them back and forth as she read, peering at the toes of her new slippers each time she swung her feet out.
Jasmine glanced over at Heather’s swinging feet. “You know our ball slippers are different, don’t you, Heather?”
Heather closed the book and looked up. “Yes, I know that. Mine don’t have slobber all over them from Monsieur Louboutin.”
“Ah, Philippe.” Jasmine tapped her heart with her hand. “He is so infatuated with me.” She smiled over at Heather.
“I found his actions from the other day deplorable, and I’m glad we have no need to return to him again this year. He was taking far too many liberties with you.”
“I don’t think it can be called a liberty if I welcomed his advances. Did I tell you we kissed?”
Heather stared at her sister in astonishment. “Jasmine, tell me you are joking.”
“No, I’m quite serious. It was delightful. And he gave me magic shoes, so I’ll be able to attract even more men at the ball.”
“Magic shoes? How can you possibly think your shoes are magic?”
“Just look at them. They are different from yours. He painted the soles of my shoes red, see?”
Heather moved from her chair to the floor, where she grabbed one of Jasmine’s feet and pulled it up to eye level. Sure enough, Jasmine’s slippers were constructed with red soles. Heather released Jasmine’s leg just as Charlotte came bustling into the room.
“I can’t wait for you to meet both of my girls, Lieutenant,” she said over her shoulder as she led the gentleman into the parlor.
In unison, the twins gazed up at the tall man trailing their mother into the room. Heather looked into his deep blue eyes, and had the unsteady impression of falling, even though she was already on the floor. This was the officer from the restaurant who had so unsettled her. The one she’d been waiting for days to see again. Once more, a current ran around the room as he stepped into the space. For a moment, she couldn’t move, she could only stare as her heart did a tap dance in her rib cage. Then, as if coming out of a trance, she shook her head and jumped to her feet as Jasmine rose from her chair.
“Lieutenant, these are my daughters. You met Heather the other night at the restaurant, but Jasmine was ill that evening and couldn’t join us. Girls, this is Lieutenant David Whitman, the gentleman your father and I met last year in St. Louis. I sent him an invitation to attend the Cotillion, and it is fortunate that he is on leave from his post in St. Louis and can join us.”
The twins executed a small curtsy to David. He bowed to each as the introductions were completed. Then, they took a seat as Charlotte ordered tea be served.
David glanced at the twins. “I’ve known twins before, but never have I encountered two who were so identical. Your hair is exactly the same hue of brunette, and your eyes are from the same vat of chocolate.”
Charlotte laughed. “I had to tie ribbons around their ankles when they were babies in order to tell them apart. Once they began to develop personalities, though, it became very easy to distinguish between them.”
Jasmine spoke first, as was usual for the twins. “So, Lieutenant, I, for one, am so thankful there was such a big, strong man on the train during the disaster last year. I’m so glad you were there to help my family to safety.” She batted her eyes at him as she played with her skirt
.
“It was a rough couple of days, and I’m so glad that your family had only minor injuries. What about the other gentleman, Mr. Gray? He was much more seriously hurt than the others. How is he doing?”
“He is still recovering. His broken legs took a long while to mend, and he now walks with a limp,” Charlotte replied. “But, in typical Charles Gray fashion, he says he believes his limp makes him look dashing, and he’s never at a loss for a story to tell at dinners now. That disaster would have been far worse without you and your company of men being there to help rescue the victims, and we will be forever in your debt.”
David fingered his hat, which was resting on his knee. “We all did whatever we could to help. I’m just happy that your family and Mr. Gray were among the fortunate ones who survived.”
Heather took a deep breath. She knew she needed to say something to this handsome man with the deep blue eyes that were driving her crazy. “Are you in town just for the ball, or do you have another reason to be here?”
David looked over at her for a long minute before he replied. Heather could tell her cheeks were reddening as her body temperature notched up a few degrees from his perusal. She grabbed her fan from the table and began a swift back and forth motion as David’s eyes remained on her face. She wished he would release her from his intense gaze and just answer her inane question.
“The ball is certainly one of my reasons for being here, after your mother so graciously extended me the invitation last fall. But I am also on a mission for my father, which was why I was with those men in the restaurant the other night.”
“You said your home is in the south?” Heather squeaked out another question.
“Yes, near Savannah. My father owns a plantation there.”
Heather looked at her mother. Charlotte raised an eyebrow in her direction, and then turned her attention to David. “So you grew up on a plantation? I thought I detected a bit of an accent when we met last fall, but I had no idea your family is in the slave trade. You’re just who we need to talk to.”
