The Abolitionist’s Secret

by Becky Lower

  Together, they strolled down the hill to the shanties, where Heather spent the afternoon meeting the slave children and the older women who cared for them. The children, once they lost their shyness, wanted to show off for her, turning cartwheels and having foot races. The women continued to educate her on how a plantation of this size operated.

  As Heather and Colleen walked back up the hill and away from the slaves, Heather stared up at the great house before her. Her sense of unease grew. She knew the days to come would not be easy, especially since she had just stood up to Mrs. Whitman, something she knew the woman would never forgive.

  But Heather would do anything necessary to make David’s life easier. If he needed to stay here at Bellewood, Heather would see the plan through, even with a despicable mother-in-law. If he wanted to move west, Heather would learn how to grow her own produce. If he chose to re-enlist in the army, Heather would be by his side. Whatever their future held, they would be a team. But despite her brave thoughts, as she looked up at the Bellewood manor house, her stomach curled into a little ball and her feet faltered.

  • • •

  David put an arm around his mother as they stood by the gravesite in the family plot on the hill overlooking Bellewood. Heather was on the other side of him. The surrounding plantation owners, and most of the slaves that had been with his father for years were in attendance at the service. David attempted to provide comfort to his mother, while holding back his own tears. Susan Whitman was a model of stoicism, and had yet to shed a tear at the loss of her husband of thirty-two years. David caught the slight shrug as he put his arm around her, but she let his arm remain, probably because it gave the appearance that she had a caring son. And Susan Whitman was all about appearances, as David well knew.

  Blanche Beaufort broke away from her parents immediately after the service ended, and strode to David’s side. As she embraced his mother and wormed her way between David and Heather, he inwardly cringed, thinking this was the way his mother and Blanche had planned his life since Jacob’s death. He was supposed to take over the plantation upon his father’s passing, marry Blanche, and they’d all live happily ever after, with Blanche directing his every movement, in much the same manner that Susan had run his father’s life. He moved away from the two women who had plotted out his future for him, pulling Heather along with him.

  He took her hand and walked away from the crowd for a private moment at the gravesite. He looked around from his vantage point on the crest of a hill, where the family graveyard was placed. The bones of his ancestors could survey the house and the crops from here, and rest easy, seeing that the plantation was operating properly. And, to all outward appearances, it was functioning properly, thanks to the backbreaking efforts of the two hundred slaves who called this plantation home. Slaves died young, for the most part, used and abused until they ran out of steam and moved to the great beyond, where they could finally get some rest. David surveyed the tidy fields, the blindingly white house with its crumbling tall pillars, the winding driveway framed on both sides by huge magnolia trees, and registered no emotion. No tug of “this is home,” no pride in the efforts that had put his father into the ground long before his time, no desire to stay here a moment longer. He was face to face with his destiny, and he did not like what he envisioned. He sighed deeply and wiped the tears from his eyes.

  Heather placed her arm around David’s waist. “I’m so sorry, David, that you didn’t get to spend more time with your father. If you had come right home from St. Louis instead of going to New York first, you could have shared his last weeks together instead of just his last days.”

  “But then, if I hadn’t come to New York, I wouldn’t have met you. I’m just glad we had a bit of time with him, and that he could meet you and talk to you about how much he hates slavery, too. He was a good man, and I’ve now come to realize, a very unhappy one. He wanted for himself the life I’ve been fortunate enough to live for the last couple of years. He would have loved to roam this vast country in search of excitement instead of being tied to one spot. I didn’t know until this week that he lived vicariously through my adventures these last few years. He never liked it here, and it seems wrong that his body should be left here with all the other Whitmans who came before him.”

  After a few quiet moments, Heather said, “I suppose we should rejoin our guests.” She glanced down the hill at the others who were streaming to the house.

  “Let’s make a vow first, though,” David replied as he held her close to him. “I know there are things that will need to be cleared up as a result of Father’s death, and that my time here will be longer than I originally anticipated. But, let’s make a pledge right now that we will not stray from our plans to marry by the end of the summer, be it here or in New York.”

  “That will be fine with me, David. But I should return home as soon as possible, for propriety’s sake. Besides, your mother hates me, and, while I was hoping that Blanche and I could become friends, she wants nothing to do with me, either. It’s almost as if she doesn’t see me when I’m in the room. Like I’m hidden in the shadows, or something.”

  “I know this is an awkward spot I’ve put you in, but I wanted you to get to know my father a bit. He thought you were charming, and a good choice for me. He told me he would consider it an honor for you to be the one to wear his mother’s wedding ring. In fact, right after the reading of the will, I’m going to go to the safe in his study and get it for you.”

  Heather hugged David tighter and brushed his lips with a kiss. “Oh, David, I can’t wait. Let’s go then. Our future awaits us.”

  In typical southern fashion, food was plentiful following a funeral, and the guests and slaves both had their fill of barbeque pork, fried chicken, hominy grits, potato salad, sweet potato pies and assorted breads. Even though it was only April, the air was warm inside the house. Cross-breezes blew through the home, thanks to the long, narrow open windows, but it was of little help.

  As the breeze teased his hair, David could not help but feel the heavy hand of oppression on the top of his head. He headed out of the house for the slightly cooler covered porch, and sat in his father’s chair. Is this how our slaves feel? Torn away from their homeland and made to perform backbreaking labor in which they have no interest? His dark thoughts rolled through his mind, one after the other, as he sat on the wide porch and let the breeze fan him. He was forced to face the fact that, even in the midst of his neighbors and family, he was painfully lonely.

  The only bright spot in his world was Heather, and he was so grateful for her company. She was the one who was talking to the guests, making them feel at home while he sat on the porch, locked in his dark thoughts. He hungered for something different from the life he knew on the plantation. He wanted to break from the past and make his own way in this young country, not be tied to the huge and oppressive task of running a plantation.

  Blanche found him sitting alone and quietly joined him. She said nothing as she took the seat next to him — the same seats that his father and mother always sat in during hot summer afternoons — and leaned over to brush the stray lock of his hair from his brow. David’s eyes met hers as he pulled back from her touch. Blanche looked at him quizzically before she reached over again and placed her hand on his forearm.

  “I know this is a somber day for you, but you must put that aside and take up the yoke of responsibility now. Enough of you wandering the country in search of adventure. You must now send your little strumpet back to New York, embrace your homeland and keep it going, as your forefathers would want.”

  David glanced over at the woman he had grown up with. The woman who expected to be his bride soon, and who would gladly take over the responsibility of running Bellewood from his mother. Heather’s lovely face flashed through his mind as he looked across at Blanche. He sighed heavily and patted her hand before he removed it from his arm.

  “You mean, my fiancée, don’t you? She will be heading back to New York soon to plan our
wedding, but make no mistake, we will be married. You and I were never meant to be, Blanche, despite what our parents hoped for.” He gave her a rueful look. “You’ve always done exactly as they say, haven’t you?”

  “Well, of course, David. Our much wiser parents have planned for our plantations to be joined through marriage since the day we were born.”

  “Yes, they did, and it would have worked if Jacob hadn’t died. You two were meant for each other. But he’s gone now, and so is the life you planned with him. It can’t be with me. I have no desire to be Jacob’s replacement, either on the plantation or in your heart. Don’t you want a say in your own life? Haven’t you ever wanted to do something else? To see what the world has to offer? America is a great big country and full of beauty. You would not believe how scenic and different the west is.”

  “Pooh, I don’t need to see any more of the country than what is at my feet. The south, and our plantations, Summerville and Bellewood, are the most gorgeous places on earth. I don’t care to ever leave. Summerville is where I grew up, and Bellewood is where I want to live forever.”

  “I wish I could say the same, Blanche. I would love to be as content as you with the way things are.”

  “You’re just feeling this way because of the massive responsibility that you now have. But I’m here to help. I’ll keep the house running as it should and you can take care of the fields. We’ll be a good team, David. After all, we’ve been preparing for this for years. Come now, you mustn’t neglect our guests.”

  Our guests? Those two little words told David all he needed to know. Blanche had already taken over for his mother, in her mind, at least.

  “You mean, Heather’s and my guests, don’t you, Blanche?” David’s temper, which had been coiled since his return to Bellewood, finally unleashed. “Did you see her inside earlier, making everyone feel at home and watching to be certain they got enough to eat and drink? That’s more than either you or I did today. We’ve been thinking only of ourselves. I think Heather has comported herself as more of a true southern belle than you have today. At least she’s not trying to steal a man away from his intended. Please don’t show disrespect to her. Where’s that gracious southern charm you are known for?”

  Blanche sputtered at his words, and stood up from his mother’s chair. “I should not be the one accused of stealing a man away from his intended, David. You know you were meant for me. She’s the one who is the thief.” She turned on her heel and rapidly walked away.

  David sighed. He had a feeling that the conversation with Blanche was not over, but today was not the day to finish it. He stood and walked back into the house to thank his guests for coming, and then to be alone with his mother for the reading of his father’s will.

  Chapter 18

  David took his place at the door beside Heather to thank people for coming to the service. Blanche made a beeline for Susan Whitman.

  “You told me this was nothing serious,” she hissed at Susan as her light brown eyes blazed. “That the northern strumpet would be gone by now.”

  Susan reached up and patted a wan, stray hair back into place on Blanche’s head. “There, there, my dear. All will be fine. She may have delayed her departure for a couple of days and I’ve let her get away with it, since I’ve been so taken up with making funeral arrangements, but I have a plan. Young Miss Fitzpatrick may think she’s in charge here, judging from the way she’s been acting this afternoon. But you and I both know that in the south, we honor tradition above all else. And tradition dictates that a son must wait one year after his father’s death to marry. I’m certain her parents won’t allow her to stay here in an unwed state for an entire year, so she’ll head back home soon. That’s when we can begin to convince David he’s made a horrible and foolish mistake.”

  Blanche gave Susan an appraising look. “That is a very clever plan. I hadn’t thought of the issue of propriety following a death, but you are so right. A year’s observance of the death of his father will signal the end to that relationship. I can’t wait to see the look on Miss Fitzpatrick’s face when you announce that we must follow the rule and that she must return to New York to wait out the year. She’ll be on the next train home and our lives can get back to normal.” Blanche clapped her hands together in glee.

  “You and I have been planning your future with one of my sons ever since you could talk. It’s a pity Jacob died, but David will do for you just as well. He threw his father and me for a while when he decided to enlist in the Army, but it was a small bump in the road we carved out for you and him. He’s sown his wild oats. It’s now time for him to settle down to life on the plantation. We will not let a mere northern woman get in the way of those plans. Your rightful place all along has been at the head of Bellewood manor, and you will live here with David and me for the rest of our days. If I can’t pull this off, I have no right to call myself a southerner.” Susan’s eyes gleamed.

  “I’ll tell David this afternoon of the one-year delay in his plans to marry. Miss Fitzpatrick will return to New York tomorrow, and we’ll all get back to the proper running of this plantation. You’ll have a full year to commiserate with David on the loss of his first love, since I’m certain she won’t wait an entire year for him. And you can make yourself available to him, in every sense of the word.”

  Susan glanced up at the plain woman. “I’m counting on you to make David fall in love with you. Don’t let me down. I can fix a lot of things that have gone wrong here, but I can’t make David love you. You’ll have to pull out every trick in your book to do that.” She patted Blanche on the shoulder. “I’m certain that underneath this proper exterior beats the heart of a true wanton. Now’s the time to bring her to the surface. I’m sure David can rectify all of the mistakes Henry made with the running of this plantation and that we can live here together forever.”

  Blanche glanced at her mentor. “David will fall in love with me, once I give him a soft shoulder to cry on over the loss of his lady fair.”

  Susan replied, “He told me that as soon as he takes possession of the combination to the wall safe after the will is read, he’s going to give Heather his grandmother’s ring. The ring that was always meant for you, my dear. I won’t let that happen. It will never find its way to her finger. The ring is too valuable, and too sentimental, to be given away frivolously. It will be a perfect time to explain about the proper protocol after a funeral.”

  “I can’t wait to see how he responds when he hears of the year’s delay. And to see Miss Fitzpatrick packed off for home to wait out the time. This will be so much fun!” Blanche moistened her lips, which stretched over her slightly buck teeth, and rubbed her hands together.

  • • •

  “Isn’t that just typical?” Susan Whitman exclaimed with a huff after the will was read. “I give the man the best years of my life and he gives me nothing.” She got to her feet and began pacing around the room, her blonde ringlets bouncing with each step.

  David turned to stare in surprise at his mother’s outburst. “He gave you the best years of his life, too, Mother, and a good quality of life here at Bellewood all those years. But, do these arrangements come as a surprise to you?” David asked. “Did you and Father not talk about what would happen upon his demise?”

  “I paid attention to parts of his plan, surely.” Susan’s gaze ricocheted from her son to the attorney in the room. “Your father and I had no secrets from each other. But I found most of his conversation about what was to come tedious beyond belief. We discussed your taking over of the plantation prior to Henry’s death, and I was in full agreement that the acreage should be yours to deal with. However, your father knew how desperately I wanted to move to Charleston to be near my sister, but yet he did not see fit to include a monthly stipend for me so I could accomplish my desire. I can’t move to Charleston, or anywhere else, without money. Now, I’ll need to stay here at Bellewood with you and Blanche.”

  David groaned internally before he said, “You mean, me and
Heather, don’t you, Mother? I’ll have to take a closer look at Father’s accounting ledgers, but typically, haven’t we always been short on funds until the cotton is harvested in September? It’s hard to pay someone monthly if there’s no money to be had.”

  “There is money aplenty. Your father was notoriously stingy, that’s all.”

  “I’ll look into it, Mother. There’s no need to cause a scene right now.” He nodded for the attorney, Mr. Sizemore, to continue reading the will.

  Mr. Sizemore cleared his throat before continuing. “Contrary to what you believe, Mrs. Whitman, this estate is heavily mortgaged, and your husband was quite low on funds. His wish was to hold on to the plantation long enough for the next generation to do with it what they wanted. But, David, even though it’s now under your control, you are walking into a mess, to put it succinctly. I’ll be happy to help you with the ledgers, but I can tell you now, it will not be easy to navigate your way out of this disaster, even with a bumper crop of cotton in the fall.” Mr. Sizemore completed the reading of the will, which included the dispensation of small tokens to some of the more favored slaves, and then began to gather up his papers and supplies.

  David rose from his seat, shook hands with the elderly gentleman who had been a good friend to his father, and escorted the man from the room.

  Susan was still in the study when David returned. He glanced at her briefly and then strode with purpose toward the safe his father had installed years ago in the wall of the room. He looked at the paper in his hand that included the lock’s combination and turned the dial. As the safe swung open, he riveted his gaze onto his mother.

  “Come take a look, Mother. There is no big pile of money stashed away.” David rifled through the contents of the safe. “Just a few dollars, some of the notes Mr. Sizemore mentioned which are loans against the land and Grandmother’s ring.” He took the ring’s box from the safe and reverently opened it.