Part 13 (2/2)

”Don't be so sentimental. Of course it's a business deal.”

”I will allow them to share the back cabin on my property,” Aunt Augusta counteroffered smoothly. ”It is the cabin where Livetta is living now. We will provide James with food rations and clothing, as we do for the entirety of Mud Run. A good deal for you, Mooney, in that I will provide for James' needs while he and his earnings remain yours. He will continue to work between the two plantations as he does at present.”

”Your cooperation and generosity are uncharacteristic, Augusta. There must be more you want from this arrangement.”

”Since I will have financial investment in James, I think it appropriate for any offspring of the couple to remain in our possession. There is profit for both of us in such an agreement.”

”Here is my final offer,” he huffed in frustration. ”And a compromise I will not negotiate. I will grant permission for the union and the living arrangements you describe. I will halve the charges you incur for James' service at your plantation. However, owners.h.i.+p of any children born of them will be split between us. I shall have rights and owners.h.i.+p to all male children, and you shall have rights to all female children.”

”I would never agree to such an offer,” Aunt Augusta snapped. ”It's outrageous.”

”The offer is being made to Hannalore,” he said, smiling at me. ”It is simply paperwork ensuring James' loyalty to me. They will all be living in Mud Run together as a family, no matter who holds the paper. I believe I am being quite generous. My dear, this is the only agreement I will consider. Accept it or refuse it, it matters not to me.”

All I could think of was Livie's heartbreak should I return to tell her the union was forbidden. Aunt Augusta was right. The deal Uncle Mooney offered was unreasonable, but there was no doubt in my mind it was indeed the only arrangement he would allow. It gave him the upper hand over me, which avenged me having revealed his indiscretions with Fatima. He had no idea the paper he was drawing up was based on fict.i.tious owners.h.i.+p. If playing along with this formality satisfied him and opened the door for Livie's happiness, it was an easy decision. Still, even the pretense of bargaining away my best friend's children rolled heavily in my breast. It reminded me how far at odds I had become with a world where this practice was an everyday occurrence.

”I shall accept your offer,” I stated confidently.

Not knowing the secret of Livie's owners.h.i.+p, Aunt Augusta gasped with disbelief. ”Hannalore, I beg you to reconsider. It is a grave error in judgment.”

Uncle Mooney pushed the paper toward me. ”She is not your puppet, Augusta. In fact, she is better educated than you and I put together. Hannalore will leave here with the permission she came seeking. Her interests are served.”

The contract was written exactly as he had stated. Confident the agreement was worthless by law, I dipped the nib of the pen in the inkwell and scribbled my name. When it was done, I looked to Aunt Augusta, expecting her icy eyes to pierce me in anger for disobeying her wishes. Instead, her head drooped to one side, but not before I saw her eyes flutter with the weight of moisture br.i.m.m.i.n.g across her lashes. Unfortunately, the ink dried quicker than the tears, and I instantly regretted my decision.

Chapter 22.

By the time our carriage rolled into the long shadows that stretched across the yard leading to our front porch, the sun was sinking behind us into the hollows of West Gate. Aunt Augusta remained silent on what had transpired. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead on the carriage ride back to Hillcrest. She ignored the hand Winston offered as she exited the carriage, and his stiffened knees broke into a hurried stride as he hobbled to reach the door of the house and open it for her without delay. Elijah came from the barn to secure the team until Winston returned. I then sent Elijah down the hill to summon James and Livie. I waited on the porch to announce the news. I expected Livie to shriek with joy when I told her she and James were to be married. However, my words were met with an anxious smile of relief.

”Aren't you thrilled, Liv?” I asked, somewhat baffled by her restrained reaction. ”I believe I am more excited than you.”

Livie reached for my hand and squeezed it tight. ”I am as happy as fear allows me to be.”

”Fear?”

”It's hard on a heart waitin' fo' someone else to decide what I can or can't have in my life. 'Specially when the bits of joy we carve out fo' ourselves can be s.n.a.t.c.hed away faster than a drop of rain soaked up by a dusty road.”

”I would never allow anyone to hurt you,” I rea.s.sured her.

”I know my heart is safe with you,” Livie said with much trepidation. ”But lovin' James gives Ma.s.sa Reynolds and Ma.r.s.e Twitch the means to whip and beat me. Not outright and physical, 'cuz Ma.s.sa don't hold my papers. But through my man's well-bein', my heart is at their mercy too.”

I had never considered the ramifications and vulnerability the slaves endured with even the simplest and purest of life's gifts. The heart and thoughts of a slave are beyond a master's command, but they can be turned on them as cruel weapons through a.s.sault and denial, or in its worst form, instant and permanent separation. There is no dream of happily ever after in the quarters.

As quickly as her thoughts darkened, Livie's typical resolve returned. She lifted her chin and unleashed a smile. ”That's the way of it.” She shrugged. ”There's no point broodin' over it. The way I sees it, James keeps both these plantations runnin' with the work he does in the blacksmith and carpenter shop. Ma.s.sa Reynolds makes a fine profit when he hires out James to other planters fo' a spell. Ma.s.sa ain't fool enough to do harm to James. We be fine.”

James put his arm around her and pulled her tight. During the time of their acquaintance, I watched Livie mature into womanhood, while James shed his stoic sh.e.l.l and reconnected with the world around him. The embrace they shared reaffirmed my confidence in the intervention I made on their behalf. Happiness glowed from them. I saw no need to outline the meaningless details of the arrangement struck with Uncle Mooney. It would likely cause more anxiety and misunderstanding.

Livie released my hand and took James' elbow. ”Do you mind if I walk back with James so we can tell the folks in the Run our good news? Nothin' like a weddin' to set the quarters abuzz.”

I beamed with pleasure at the excitement taking hold of Livie. ”Take all the time you need. In fact, it is not necessary to come back to the house tonight.”

”I'll be up later.” Livie smiled as she pressed a hand to her breast. ”So I can hug you and thank you fo' makin' it possible fo' James and me to marry up. Can't do it proper out here in the open.”

”Yas'sum, Miz Hannah,” James said with an appreciative nod. ”We is obliged fo' you softenin' Ma.s.sa Reynolds' opinion on the idea.” They looked at each other with intimate tenderness, then walked away, the picture of contentment, as Livie leaned into James and rested her head on his shoulder.

The next day when news of the pending union spread through Mud Run, Aunt Augusta continued to distance herself from the activity. With only two weeks until the wedding, Granny Morgan gathered ribbon and bows for the traditional broomstick ceremony common in the slave quarters. As matriarchal leader of the Runians, Granny took great pride in overseeing such occasions, and although the act of jumping the broom was quick and simple, the meaning and celebration attached to it was revered.

The levity that enveloped the house and grounds was like a breath of fresh air, until a stranger appeared at Hillcrest, arriving in a polished plum brougham pulled by a sleek charcoal stallion. His arrival was unannounced, but Aunt Augusta summoned me to join her in the foyer, where she stood to greet the visitor as Winston opened the door. The stranger's cloak and hat were as sleek and dark as the horse snorting in the yard. He was a ruddy gentleman, perhaps a decade of age beyond me, with small, gla.s.sy eyes crowding the crest of a long, thin nose that was much too large for his face. His profile was punctuated by a sharp ridge that hooked the protrusion downward toward tight thin lips. The skin on his cheeks and chin was chafed and flaking, its reddened coa.r.s.eness a natural state not brought on by wind or winter exposure. The line of his face was reminiscent of a snapping turtle's snout, and his arrogant demeanor suggested he had the same vicious bite. It is amazing how quickly we can draw a conclusion about a person The stranger removed his oversized top hat and jerked his head forward in a stiff partial bow. ”Madame Reynolds, it is indeed a pleasure.”

Aunt Augusta took my elbow and guided me in his direction. ”Monsieur Charbonneau, allow me to introduce to you my niece, Hannalore. She will be a conscientious student under your direction.”

I paused before fully extending my hand. ”Have we met previously, sir? Your name rings familiar.”

”No, I have never had the pleasure,” he said, reaching toward me. I flushed an equal mix of anger and embarra.s.sment as he eagerly took my hand and pressed his terse mouth to my flesh. ”I come to you with great antic.i.p.ation, Mademoiselle Blessing. My dear cousin the colonel recommended you quite highly, and you are as magnifique magnifique as the portrait he painted in my mind.” as the portrait he painted in my mind.”

”Pardon me for my dismay, Monsieur Charbonneau,” I said, retrieving my hand from his. ”However, I am ambivalent in the matter of my education in the French language, since it was presented to me as a ch.o.r.e rather than a choice.”

”Please call me Lamond,” he said, looking about with an air of conceit. ”My experience tells me that most young ladies are ill equipped to discern that education is a privilege. As a favor to my cousin, I cleared my schedule from now until the conclusion of the summer months, so I can not only share my expertise in the gentle lilt of the French language, but also partake in an extended respite in the quiet and simple way of life here in the Virginia hills.”

”Monsieur Charbonneau will stay in the guest room during his sojourn with us,” Aunt Augusta said with an arch of the eyebrow, cautioning me to mind my manners. ”Winston, see that Monsieur Charbonneau's trunks are taken to his room so he can freshen up. Then direct Esther Mae to serve us tea in the parlor at half past the hour.”

So with no regard to my opinion or objections, it was decreed that I was now the student of Monsieur Lamond Charbonneau. Surprisingly, it was not as burdensome as I had first feared. Lamond did not rise with the sun, as was the natural way for those accustomed to life on the plantation. He lumbered down the stairs well after Aunt Augusta and I had finished breakfast and moved on to other activities. I generally joined Tessie in the quilting room to st.i.tch squares until Lamond knocked on the door to signal me into the parlor for the day's lesson. By midweek it became our ritual, and although Esther Mae grumbled a time or two about Lamond and his ”city folk” ways, it was a routine of little demand on me.

My lessons were interesting, but served no true purpose other than to add to my refinement. However, they filled a void in my day left by Livie's absence. As my personal attendant, Livie was usually at my side from sunup to sundown, except for when the ch.o.r.es of the household required her to a.s.sist Esther Mae. Although she would never ask it of me, I knew she would be grateful for some free time to ready her cabin for her soon-to-be husband. So in the days since the union was approved, Livie slipped away, with my encouragement, to attend to her private ch.o.r.es in Mud Run. Livie continued to come to my room just after dawn to fill my basin and help me dress, although the time was generally pa.s.sed with us chatting on my bed. When breakfast was served, Livie would leave without notice and often did not return until dusk. With a guest in the house, it was an easy charade to pa.s.s off on Aunt Augusta. Near the end of Lamond's first week at Hillcrest, Livie lingered longer with me during her morning visit.

”I don't need to go back down the hill today,” Livie proclaimed as we settled at the foot of my bed. ”Everything is fine and ready fo' James. He been workin' late into the night after his ch.o.r.es is done, buildin' a bed fit fo' two. Winston got say- so from Miz 'Gusta fo' some straw, so Esther Mae and me stuffed a fine mattress.”

”One week from today, you will be a married woman.” I took Livie's hand and pulled her to her feet. ”Come with me. I have a surprise for you.”

I led her to the door of the wardrobe and swung it wide, shedding light on the line of dresses that hung neatly within. ”I want you to choose any dress and it will be yours, a gift from me.”

Livie's eyes doubled in size, then moistened with emotion. ”The likes o' me 'tain't fit fo' somethin' so fine.”

I took her in my arms and squeezed her tight. ”You are the finest woman I know, so do not ever talk like you are anything less than the best.” Livie patted my back and allowed me a moment to cling to her. She may have sensed that amid my joy for her, I was also fearful our relations.h.i.+p would change as she created a family of her own. I stepped back with a gleeful clap of my hands.

”Now do as I ask, and choose any dress you like.”

”Jes' makin' it possible fo' James and me to marry up is gift enough. No need fo' nothin' more.” Livie hemmed and hawed while her eyes danced over the colors and styles spread before her.

”Don't be silly, Liv. I have given you dresses in the past.”

”But they was everyday, in-and-out-the-house dresses. These are fanciful and special.”

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