Erin told Annie about Ben running away, and Annie listened in wide-eyed fright. She’d heard of many slaves fleeing of late, heard the rumors that many more were planning to do so. Most, it was whispered, belonged to Zachary Tremayne, and she boldly said as much to her mistress.
“I’m not surprised. I know how they’ve suffered, and that’s why I’m risking everything to help them, Annie. I wish you’d feel the same way and get over your fear of ghosts, for heaven’s sake.”
“I’ll try,” Annie promised lamely.
“Tomorrow, no matter what, we’re going to see my mother. I’m going to stay a few days with her, and I don’t care what Mrs. Youngblood thinks.”
Annie grunted. “She’ll probably lock the door the minute you walk out and not let you back in.”
“Then I’d just wait till Ryan returns.”
Annie dared to warn, “There just ain’t no tellin’ what that woman might do. She’s evil to the core.”
Erin agreed but thought it best to keep it to herself.
When Eliza saw Annie with the tapestry bags, she rushed to inform Miss Victoria that Erin was getting ready to go somewhere.
Victoria was sitting at Ryan’s desk, studying the diagram of the labyrinth. “That means she’s going to slip away and spend some time with her lover while Ryan is away. No doubt she’ll say she’s going to stay with her mother, but I’ll be right behind her all the way. She won’t know she’s walking into a trap, because the instant they rendezvous, I’ll have her right where I want her.
“But go back and keep watch,” she added, “because she may sneak out during the night. If she leaves her room, you come and find me, no matter what time it is.”
Eliza blinked wearily. She ached all over from standing on her feet for so many hours. “You want me to stay there the rest of the day?”
“And the night, too, Eliza. Who else can I trust? Now get back up there. She could have slipped out while you were in here.”
The afternoon passed slowly. Eliza felt as though her legs would no longer support her. She had made sure the rest of the household staff had chores to do that would keep them on the main floor, but still she was afraid to venture out of hiding. Surely, she prayed wearily, her mistress did not expect her to keep watch throughout the night.
When she left her post long enough to serve supper, Victoria was furious. “I told you to stay there.”
Eliza could stand no more. “I been there since this morning,” she reminded her mistress, on the verge of tears. Lord, she was tired, snatching only a bite of cornbread when she’d gone up the last time. She’d not even had time to go to the outhouse, and her stomach was griping with the urge. She unleashed her complaints and protests and finished to beg, “Please. Can I just go outside for a while, tend to myself, and have some food?”
“Oh, be gone with you.” Victoria shoved back her plate and stood. “I’ll go watch. Take ten minutes. No more.”
Victoria had not been in place long when she heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. It was nearly dark out, and only a faint light was filtering through the window above the doorway to illumine the stairs. She could see it was Annie coming up, and she ran down the hall, passing right by her without seeing her in the shadows, of course. Victoria was stunned to see she didn’t bother to knock on Erin’s door but burst right in.
She was even more puzzled to hear her cry excitedly, “A rose, Miz Erin. I found it at the grave.”
Victoria then peered out to see Erin reach to snatch the girl inside the room as she anxiously warned, “Hush! Someone might hear…” Then the door closed, and Victoria couldn’t hear anything else.
Annie did not stay inside long, and as Victoria watched her go back downstairs, she toyed with the idea of having Eliza interrogate her about what was going on. A rose, she had said. At the grave. She had to mean Henrietta Youngblood’s grave, because the slaves never ventured near the large family cemetery. But it made no difference where she had found it. The puzzle was that summer was long over. Fall had descended. And winter was right around the corner. There just weren’t any more roses in bloom.
Slowly, it began to dawn on her. The rose was probably not real and was a signal of some sort. Of course. The rose meant Erin was to meet someone in the labyrinth. But when? She heard another movement on the stairs just then, saw that it was Eliza, and rushed to meet her and draw her in the opposite direction to her room.
Once inside, Victoria told her what she suspected. “Now you get back there and watch, and don’t you dare fall asleep or take your eye off that door for an instant,” she said sharply. “The minute she leaves, you come tell me, and I’ll be dressed and ready to follow her. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Eliza wished for the first time she had never gotten involved in any of this. She was now expected to keep vigil all night long, if need be. She found herself suddenly wishing she weren’t the head servant, could join the others in the compound for an evening of companionship. They were all gathering to cook a catfish stew in a big cauldron of hot fat. She knew, because she’d heard some of the women talking about how they needed to peel onions and potatoes and roll out some dumplings to add to the pot likker. Someone would play a banjo, and there’d be singing, and Eliza swallowed against a lump in her throat to think of the fellowship she would miss out on, as she had for so many years. Long ago, she’d crossed that invisible line and chosen loyalty to her white mistress over allegiance to her own people.
And she could not go back.
Erin’s heart was pounding louder with each ticking of the clock. She hadn’t expected another runaway so soon and hoped it wasn’t going to become a nightly occurrence. If so, she’d have to contact Sam Wade and have him make other arrangements. It was too risky for her to slip out of the house every night. She had to send word to him anyway that she’d be staying at her mother’s for a few days, so he could have someone else watch for the signal.
Just a few minutes before midnight, Erin made her way silently through the house. All was quiet. It was a cloudy night, so the moon gave scant light. Fortunately she knew her way.
Stepping between the opening in the hedges, she repeated her call of the night before. This time, however, there was no answer. Apprehensive, she went farther in, again softly calling out, but only silence, tense and thick amid the shrubbery, prevailed.
She knew then it had to mean someone was waiting in the center. Hoping it would be Sam, she began to pace and count and find her way in the dark.
When she reached the clearing, there was enough light for her to distinguish shadows, and when one of them moved, her instinct was to retreat within the maze till it identified itself. But before she took even a step, Sam called to her.
The moon had slipped momentarily from behind a cloud as she rushed to greet him. “Thank God, it’s you. I was going to send a message to you by Rosa tomorrow, because I’m going to be over there for a few days, and—” She fell silent as she read in his expression something that filled her with cold dread. “What is it? Something’s happened. I can feel it. My mother! Is she—”
“I honestly don’t know. I can’t get on your stepfather’s property to find out what’s going on in there. Did you hear the drums last night?”
She nodded fearfully. “What did it mean?”
“Trouble. That’s all I can tell you. At first, I thought maybe it had something to do with Ben running away, but Mahalia told me today it was a message that there was big trouble at Zachary’s. So I went by there. But I couldn’t get past the front gate. One of his overseers stopped me. Said they weren’t letting any outsiders in. I asked why, and all he would tell me was that they’d had some trouble with the slaves, and Zachary was getting a posse together.”
“Then I’ve got to get there right away, in case Mother needs me.”
“I agree. If there is an emergency, and you need to get in touch with me, I’ll be making my regular stops in the north part of the county. The Siddons place. The Bartons. You kno
w where they live.”
She nodded.
“I usually camp out at the Bartons’. There’s a cottonwood grove overlooking the river, and the slaves know they can find me there around this time. They slip in during the night to fill me in on anything they think I need to know. If you want to find me, or get a message to me, that’s where I’ll be tomorrow night.”
“I’ll leave at first light. I’d already planned to go.”
“Good. Now you’d better get back inside before your husband misses you.”
Ruefully, she said that was no problem. “He’s gone. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
“Is something wrong?”
“His mother has returned from her trip. She wasn’t at all happy over finding out about our marriage. I knew it would upset her, but I had no idea how much.”
“It will work out. You’ll see. Now do you mind if I walk along with you? I didn’t come by way of the river. My cart is about a mile down the road from your house.”
“Of course,” she murmured, not really listening, for she was lost in thought. She was terribly worried about her mother but also grieving with wanting Ryan to be with her. She needed him, and found herself desperately wishing she had let him know that.
Eliza had decided there was no reason to keep standing in the darkness. No one was around, and she just couldn’t resist sitting down to rest her weary legs. Leaning her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes and promised herself she wouldn’t fall asleep, just rest for a few precious moments.
She sat straight up, realizing with a start that she had fallen asleep. Groggily struggling to her feet, she was further disturbed by the feeling that she’d been dozing for more than just a few moments. What if Miss Erin had slipped out during that time? She couldn’t take a chance, had to make sure she was still in her room.
Hurrying to her door, she eased it open. It was difficult to make out anything in the darkness, but she could tell, with a jolt, that no one was in the bed. A check of the adjoining parlor, and even Master Ryan’s room, confirmed the growing terror that Erin had sneaked out.
She was trembling to think how Miss Victoria would never forgive her for falling asleep and letting this happen. And while she might have to report to her Miss Erin had got away, she wasn’t about to let her know just when, and how.
She rushed to her bedroom to shake her awake. “She’s on her way. She just went down the steps. And she’s moving fast. You might not be able to catch her.”
Victoria was up in a flash and running out on the veranda. At the corner, she strained to see in the moonlight and whispered, “She’s probably headed for the labyrinth. I memorized the map, and I’ll go in and try to catch her with him, and—oh, no!” She gasped.
Eliza saw them, too, and her heart sank to her toes.
In the scant light of the moon-tinged clouds, they could make out two figures emerging from the maze. A man and a woman. The man embraced the woman briefly, then broke into a run along the front line of foliage and disappeared around the corner. The woman lifted her hem to hurry across the lawn, coming toward the house.
Victoria’s sharp nails dug into Eliza’s flesh as she grabbed her arm and pulled her along quickly, quietly, in the shadows of the veranda toward her room. Once inside, with doors closed, she slapped Eliza hard. “You lied. She left long ago. You fell asleep, didn’t you? Damn your worthless hide, I ought to have you whipped.”
Eliza had begun to cry, backing away as she begged forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to. I was just so tired, and I’d been standing there all day and half the night, and—”
“Shut up! I’ve no time for your sniveling. Now you get back out there and keep watch, and don’t you dare fall asleep again, you stupid cow. I want to know at once if she starts out of this house again tonight. If she doesn’t, wake me at first light, so I can follow her when she does go. She didn’t have Annie pack those bags without reason. She’s planning something for sure.
“And another thing,” she commanded. “You tell Annie in the morning she is not to serve Erin again. None of the slaves are to serve her. Do you understand?”
With bowed head, Eliza murmured, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Now get out of here. I may have you whipped yet.”
Anxious to escape her wrath, Eliza ran out.
When she was in her position in the alcove, she was far too angry even to think about being tired. It was the first time Miss Victoria had ever struck her. The first time she’d ever cursed her, called her names. Eliza thought she deserved better, even if she was a slave, after so many years of dogged loyalty.
Bitter, hurt, filled with resentment, Eliza resolved never to forget this night.
Ryan stood at the ship’s railing and stared down into the rolling sea. His horse was stabled in the hold, along with those of other owners who wanted their own horses when they reached their destination. In a few days he would arrive in New Orleans. He planned to stay for two weeks, maybe longer; He’d buy the stock he wanted—two mares and a stallion—then bring them back with him. He figured he could manage pulling the trio from Norfolk to Richmond.
Once he’d taken care of business in New Orleans, there would be a few days for pleasure. He liked the food and drink, the gambling, the women…
He laughed ruefully, there in the darkness. The women, indeed. He had left behind the only woman he would ever want, could ever love.
It was a few moments later when the fragrance of perfume came to him just before he saw the girl step out of the shadows and into the scant light. He knew right away what she was—a fancy girl, her kind were called. Slave girls. Mulattoes, most of them. Owned by the shipping lines. They were painted up, dressed in revealing gowns, and placed discreetly on board for the pleasure of male passengers—for a price. Ryan had indulged in the pleasant diversion many times. A warm body to share the narrow bed in his tiny cabin, to please him in any way he demanded, at his beck and call. When she wasn’t servicing him or other men, she would stay out of sight. It angered the ladies to know prostitutes were on the ship.
“It’s so sad to be alone on such a lovely night,” she cooed, boldly twining her arm about his, brushing her breast against him. “Have you need of a woman to keep you company?”
Ryan felt a stirring in his loins. Hell, he made no apology for being a man. Yet he knew that just as it was Erin’s face he saw dancing there in the silver-splashed waters, he would search for her too in the arms of another woman. There could be no real pleasure in pretense. Maybe, in time, his hunger would get the best of him, and he’d yield to temptation. For the time being, he wanted no substitute. It was like craving champagne, only to be served cheap wine. Gently he dismissed her. “No thanks. I’d rather be alone.”
When rejected, her orders were to melt away into the night, silently, quietly. She did so.
And he was left alone with his memories of passion unequaled.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Erin approached the main gate of Zachary’s plantation; there was no guard in sight. It was just as well. She was in no mood for a confrontation. Learning that Victoria had forbidden Annie, as well as any other slave at Jasmine Hill, to do her bidding was frustrating enough without being denied the use of a carriage. It was only because the stable hands had not dared stop her that she’d even been able to take a horse. Leaving her bags behind, she’d mounted bareback for the ride, silently vowing to borrow one of Zachary’s wagons later and come back for them.
All seemed quiet and strange, as though an invisible pall had descended. She could feel the tension in the air, could see it in the way the few workers in the fields refused to look at her as she passed. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones. She quickened her pace.
She rode all the way to the front steps and had just dismounted when an overseer hurried up from the field closest to the house. He was carrying a whip, and she noticed he was wearing double-holstered guns. He was not familiar to her, but then the only one of Zachary’s overseers
she knew was Frank, and he was nowhere about.
“Hey, who are you?” he yelled curtly. “What do you want? Tremayne don’t want no strangers here.”
Instinctively she didn’t like him, felt her ire rising over how his ferret-like eyes lingered on her bosom. “I’m hardly a stranger. Unfortunately, he’s my stepfather.”
“Oh, so you must be—” he paused, gave a nasty-sounding laugh, “yeah, I know who you are, all right.”
She started up the stairs. He wasn’t worth the effort it would take to rebuke him.
“Ain’t nobody in there.”
She spun around, felt a sudden chill of foreboding. “Where is everyone?”
“Zach run everybody out and says he ain’t goin’ back in there himself till we beat all that voodoo-obeah shit outta the slaves. He’s sick of blood and feathers and dog’s teeth and all that stuff they use to try to scare him to death. Me, I don’t believe in it. But like last night, when they get to beatin’ them goddamn drums all over, it’s enough to scare even a nonbeliever.”
Erin blinked at him, bemused. “What are you talking about?”
“The slaves decided to try a little voodoo on him. Led by your mother, he believes, and—”
“Where is she?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Ask Zach. He’s over at the stable gettin’ ready to go after another runaway. Says this time he’s gonna chop a foot off to set an example to the others, and…” He fell silent, stared after her as she took off running. Well, he didn’t have time to mess with her anyway, even if it was a real pleasure just to look at her. He’d heard she was a beauty, and now he knew it was so.
He turned back to the field.
Victoria watched from the grove of trees just across the road from the gate. She had carefully stayed far enough behind Erin so she wouldn’t know she was being followed. Now, however, it seemed the moment of reckoning was at hand, when she could let her know she was aware of her infidelity to her son. She had seen her talking to the white man with the whip. Was that Zachary Tremayne? Heavens, she didn’t know, wouldn’t recognize the dreadful man anyway, for she knew him only by his infamous reputation.
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