The Abolitionist’s Secret

by Becky Lower

  Heather laughed. “You are so awful.” She hugged Jasmine. “I’ve missed you this season. It’s been a terrible spring and summer so far, and I’m glad you’re back at my side.”

  “Nonetheless, I think you’ll be the one walking away with a husband, while I will have to pine away, unloved and lonely, for yet another year.”

  “Unloved and lonely? You’re the one with two men here this weekend. I only have Blake. But maybe Blake’s enough.” Heather closed her eyes, holding back the sudden tears. “Perhaps I will walk away from here engaged this weekend, as you said. From your lips to God’s ear, Jas.”

  • • •

  David Whitman practically leapt from his horse’s back when the Fitzpatrick summer house finally came into view. It was a stately manor house of brick and stone, surrounded by acres of impeccably groomed lawns and gardens. Wings on either side of the main portion of the house offered ample guest rooms for company.

  Handing off his horse to one of the stable boys, he strode up the sidewalk to the large mahogany front door and knocked. A house servant ushered him into a formal parlor where he waited to speak to Mr. Fitzpatrick. He did not have long to wait, as Charlotte Fitzpatrick came bustling into the room to greet him instead. She frowned at him even as she held out her hand to him.

  “How nice to see you again, Lieutenant. Mr. Fitzpatrick is tied up at the moment, so I told him I’d speak with you. I’m actually quite eager to talk to you again. Please, have a seat.”

  “It’s actually Captain now. The Army gave me a promotion in rank as an enticement when I discussed re-enlisting with them.”

  Charlotte clapped her hands. “How wonderful for you! Where will you be stationed?”

  “I’m heading back out west, to the Kansas/Missouri border, to quell the uprisings there regarding the slavery issue.”

  “And the plantation? What will become of it? And your mother?”

  “Bellewood has been sold to my neighbor, Simon Beaufort. By now, I’m certain his daughter, Blanche, has moved into the house with her new husband.”

  “We need to discuss what happened in Georgia, Lieutenant, er, Captain. Is this the same Blanche who helped make my daughter’s life so miserable?”

  David hung his head. “Yes, ma’am. She always wanted to be mistress of Bellewood, and her choice of husband didn’t seem to matter, whether it was my brother or me. But, at the last minute she chose wisely, and married a neighbor for whom she has real feelings. When I offered her father my plantation, Blanche jumped at the opportunity to make it hers. So she has what she always wanted and what was always most important to her — a chance to be mistress of Bellewood. And she has a loving husband by her side. Things sorted themselves out well for everyone in that regard.”

  He returned his gaze to Charlotte before he continued. “Mother’s moved to Charleston, where she will live out her days in happy comfort, being away from the burden of plantation life, and being close to her sister.”

  He cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. After all, if not for your invitation, I would never have come to New York in the first place and I never would have met your daughter, and had the opportunity to fall in love with her, thereby creating this whole mess.”

  Charlotte flicked her gaze to him. “I suppose you do. But I really think the apology is owed more to my daughter.”

  David sensed hope creeping into his veins. “Will you allow me to see Heather?”

  Charlotte smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles of her evening dress. “She is entertaining her new beau, Mr. Blake Morgan, in the salon, as is typical after dinner. I’ll let you visit with her for a couple minutes.” She leveled a hard gaze at David. “You have really disappointed me, David. I can’t forgive you for what happened to my daughter in Savannah. Not one member of this family has ever had to spend time behind bars until you came along. But if you can make Heather happy for the rest of her days, I might just forget about the incident in Georgia.”

  David had a hard time swallowing. “Are you telling me what I hope you are?”

  “Heather is not yet engaged, Captain, although I have a feeling Mr. Morgan will not wait much longer before he asks for her hand. But you were my first choice and I hate to see my daughter settle for someone other than the one I hand-selected for her.” Charlotte smiled over at him.

  “Does Mr. Fitzpatrick feel the same?”

  “Mr. Fitzpatrick has realized that Mr. Morgan is more interested in what the family will offer him in terms of status and privilege than he is in making my daughter the focus of his life. Mr. Morgan asked him for Heather’s hand before we came up here this weekend, and George reluctantly gave his permission. But Blake is not his first choice for Heather, either.”

  “Will you take me to her, then?”

  “Of course. Come along.” David stood as Charlotte rose from her chair. Before they left the room, she turned to him and laid a hand on his sleeve. “Good luck, Captain. My daughter has developed an iron will this season, thanks in part to her experience in the south, so I don’t think she’ll readily jump into your arms. But she does love you still, I think. She just might take some convincing to remember that.” She looked him in the eye. “Don’t disappoint me again.”

  • • •

  Blake sat next to Heather on the divan and grabbed her hand. Heather sighed softly. She had managed to escape Blake’s grasp for several minutes, but now here she was. Trapped. She fought the urge to stomp her foot in frustration. Or maybe despair.

  Blake looked into her eyes and began again. “You know, Miss Fitzpatrick, these past several weeks have been the most pleasant in my American experience. You and your family have welcomed me with open arms. And now, this weekend at your magnificent summer home has topped the list. I love it here, away from the bustle and heat of the city.”

  Heather couldn’t help herself. She jumped to her feet again. She knew she was being a poor hostess, but she was nervous, fearing that at any moment, Blake would drop to a knee and propose. And then what would she do?

  “I, uh, I’m glad you’re enjoying the weekend, Mr. Morgan. Would you care for some tea?” Heather moved to the teacart.

  “You’ve been avoiding me all evening, and I’m trying to be romantic,” Blake replied, tartly. “Please come here and sit beside me.”

  Reluctantly, Heather obliged, and returned to her seat on the divan. Blake once again took her hand and turned to her.

  “As I was saying, these past few weeks have been the best of my life and I only hope for many more years of the same.”

  “You mean, once you decided which of us you wanted to pursue, you began to enjoy yourself, don’t you?”

  “Ouch! Are you still faulting me for wanting to take my time?”

  “No, honestly, it’s not having you sort through all the available women in New York who have ties to money that bothers me, Mr. Morgan. What bothers me is that you so obviously created a list from which to select a partner with no regard to how you felt about any of the ladies. What about love?”

  “I prefer not to be a child when deciding something as serious as choosing a wife. There’s no room for emotion when it comes to making a sound choice in life. There’s no such thing as love at first sight. Love comes slowly, after the couple takes the time to get to know one another. That’s why I’m trying to be romantic tonight. We have spent the last several weeks getting to know each other. Now it’s time to take it further.”

  “But, don’t you feel, if we were truly meant for each other, you wouldn’t have to try to be romantic? Wouldn’t it just be there all along and be one of the most natural things in the world?”

  Blake ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ve spoken to your father, and he said if you were willing, he would not object.”

  Heather sprung to her feet again and began to pace the room. “Object to what, pray tell, Mr. Morgan?”

  Laughing, he rose from the divan and went to her side. “You are determined to make this difficult for me, are
you not? All right then, I can do this the old-fashioned way.” He dropped to one knee, holding her hand and looking into her eyes. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Tears filled Heather’s eyes as she stood looking at Blake’s pleading face. Maybe he was right. Love would come if she gave herself a chance to get to know him better. But why didn’t his touch send sparks shooting through her body? She raised her head and looked to the doorway, as if seeking an escape. Or an answer. Then, she gasped. David stood quietly in the open doorway, like a wished-for vision, watching the unfolding events in the room, with a sorrowful expression on his face. His eyes raked over her as he entered the room.

  “It seems that congratulations are in order, Heather. May I be the first?”

  Heather pulled on Blake’s jacket, urging him to rise from his kneeling position.

  “Lieutenant Whitman, how nice to see you again! May I present Mr. Blake Morgan?”

  The two men shook hands, David’s eyes only briefly leaving Heather’s face. The three stood awkwardly together for a brief moment before Heather turned to Blake.

  “Mr. Morgan, can you give me some time alone with the lieutenant, please?”

  Blake looked at her in amazement. “But what of my offer? You haven’t yet given me an answer.”

  “I need some time, Mr. Morgan,” Heather said sternly.

  “All right. But just a couple minutes then.” His eyes blazed as he looked at David. Then, he left the room.

  Once Blake was gone, Heather didn’t know what to do next. She moved away from David and to the teacart again.

  “May I offer you a cup of tea, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, that would be nice. It’s a long ride out here from the city. And, I’m now a captain, not a lieutenant.”

  Heather glanced up at him. That unruly lock of his brown hair had fallen over his brow, like always, and her fingers itched to smooth it back from his forehead. The teacup rattled in her hand.

  “I suppose then congratulations are due you as well, Captain. So, you’ve re-enlisted?”

  “Yes. The Army made me a generous offer, so I’m headed back to the west. I’ll be stationed near the Kansas/Missouri border, where so much trouble is happening right now.”

  “Yes, I read about the difficulties out there. Funny, isn’t it, the Indians are no longer the great problem they once were. Now, it’s the Negroes.”

  “Speaking of which, I saw Jericho before I left the city. He seems to be enjoying his life there.”

  Heather brightened. “Yes, he likes his job, and I’m continuing with his education. Isn’t he growing like a weed these days?”

  “He was even happier when I stopped in. He’s now been reunited with his mother. I brought Phoebe north with me.”

  Heather’s eyes filled with tears as she turned to David. “Oh, what a magnificent gesture. Thank you. How are the rest of the slaves? Shadrach and the others?”

  “They are now all free men and women. I let them all go,” David responded quietly.

  Heather took a sharp intake of breath as she looked at David. “That’s wonderful news, David. But why? Why now?”

  “I sold the plantation, Heather, and moved Mother to Charleston to be near her sister. Simon Beaufort wanted to buy the land, especially after I let it drop into the conversation what William Douglas wanted to do if he bought the land. I told him he would dam up the stream that flows from Bellewood onto Simon’s land.”

  Heather got a twinkle in her eyes at the news. “Was he really planning to do that?”

  “Let’s just say it certainly would be within his rights if he was the new owner, but, no, he never actually said that was his intent. I was merely pointing out to Simon all the things that he would lose control over, should the land be sold to someone else.”

  “And what of Blanche?”

  “It seems she got what she wanted, too. She’s now moved into Bellewood’s manor house and is mistress of all she surveys.” David glanced over at Heather. “Simon gave Bellewood to her as a wedding gift. She married a neighbor of ours, a small farmer named Robbie Johnson. Bellewood was her dream, not Jacob or me, as it turns out. And she now has what she always lusted after.”

  Heather let out a measured breath. “So, let me see if I have this right. You’ve sold the plantation, freed the slaves, moved your mother to her new home, and you’re now headed west.” At his nod, she continued.

  “Why did you not go immediately west, then? Surely, Jericho’s mother could have found her way to him by herself.”

  “I had to see you before I left the east coast.”

  Heather’s heart stuttered in her chest. She turned from him, saying nothing.

  David sighed. “Of course. You already have a proposal. I understand. Well, then, I guess this will be an engagement gift.” He pulled out a document from his breast pocket.

  “What’s this?”

  “Freedom papers for Sally and baby Titus. I assume you know how to deliver them?”

  Heather looked up at him through tear-filled eyes and said quietly, “I thought you said you weren’t ever going to read the letter from Jasmine.”

  “I changed my mind after you left. I wanted to know exactly what had happened and how things spun out of control so quickly.”

  “And now you know that Mother, Father, and I helped Sally and her baby escape the clutches of the bounty hunters and get to Canada and freedom. So you have proof positive I am an abolitionist, and we were never meant to be together. I’m sure there are other southern women besides Blanche that would be a better fit for your lifestyle.”

  David took her hands in his and stared deeply into her eyes. “Don’t you understand? I don’t want a woman who is a copy of myself and my background. I want a woman who inspires me to be a better man. Yes, I know that you helped Sally to freedom. But, don’t you see, I’m in full agreement with you now? I just gave two hundred slaves their freedom! I’d say if ever two people belonged together, it is you and me.”

  Heather’s body quaked as she stood beside David, listening to his impassioned speech. She looked up into his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Do you still have your grandmother’s ring, or did you sell it too?”

  David’s eyes looked deep into hers. “I have it. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I came to this room tonight expecting to walk out with a ring on my finger, and I won’t be denied. We could deliver the freedom papers to Sally on our honeymoon, if you’d like.” Heather smiled up at him.

  David reached out his arms to her, and held her close. Heather kissed his lips and realized she was finally where she belonged.

  About the Author

  Becky Lower has been fascinated by the development of the United States her entire life, so it’s only natural that she write historical romances set in America. Having cut her teeth on Bonanza and the Little House on the Prairie books, she is the proud owner of the entire Zane Grey western collection (some first editions!). She followed the route of the Santa Fe Trail on a cross-country road trip, although she went considerably faster than the wagon trains used to, and she uses her writing as an excuse to tour the west as much as possible. She lives in an eclectic college town in Ohio with her puppy-mill rescue dog, Mary.

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