Rebel

by Beverly Jenkins

  Val understood now. “The brother of one of my students asked me to do something similar. He wants to put a plea in the newspapers in hopes of finding his wife.”

  “I’ve helped with those, too, because I know what it’s like to have missing family members. I’ve been searching for my sister, Mavis, and brother, Rhine, since Freedom. Each night I pray they are alive and safe, and that we’ll be reunited.”

  Val thought about her grandmother and her siblings.

  “Slavery was an awful thing,” Sable said. “As a race we’ve suffered so much pain and sorrow because of it.”

  Val agreed. “Both North and South. I was eleven when the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act was implemented, and I can recall how terrified everyone was of being captured by all the slave catchers that came north. The catchers didn’t care if you had free papers or not. Some of my classmates lost fathers, mothers. Entire families fled to Canada to hide themselves.”

  “In the South, news from the North was hard to come by so I know nothing about those times.”

  “Our parents escorted us back and forth to school. The churches passed out whistles to the women and older children because the catchers sometimes came during the day while the men were at work.”

  “Why whistles?”

  “They served as alarms and alerts. I remember my grandmother and some of the other women blowing their whistles while chasing one off our street. The more they blew, the more women joined in. They’d armed themselves with long-handled spoons and forks. Skillets. Broomsticks. The man couldn’t run fast enough and received quite a beating.”

  Sable chuckled. “That must’ve been some sight.”

  “It was.” She’d watched the episode from the doorway of her grandmother’s dress shop.

  “When my grandmother returned she marched in, put her mop away, and said, ‘He’s not coming back.’”

  “I wish you were going to stay, Valinda. We’d probably have fun together. I have the family but very few friends.”

  Val remembered Sable touching on being shunned by the Creole women during their lunch at the Christophe. “Maybe the women here will come around.”

  Sable shrugged. “Who knows, but I do wish you weren’t leaving.”

  “There’s a chance that I’ll stay. Let’s wait and see what Cole says.”

  “I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

  Val planned to do the same.

  That evening as Val dressed for the welcome-home dinner in her bedroom, she thought back on her day with Sable and the passionate moment between Sable and her husband. Val wondered what that bond felt like, and if they were that playful with each other all the time. Raimond’s pledge to beg her pardon had caused Sable to blush. Val thought he might’ve been alluding to something more intimate, but being an innocent in such matters, she didn’t know.

  The large dining room was filled with LeVeqs. There was conversation, laughter, a gloriously set table for the adults, and a smaller one for the younger members. Standing before the mantel and wearing an elegant indigo-hued gown was Julianna. Beside her stood a tall handsome man wearing spectacles. The two were having an animated conversation with Raimond and Sable. Seeing Val, Julianna beckoned to her.

  “Valinda Lacy, my husband, Henri Vincent.”

  “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

  “My pleasure as well,” he replied in French-accented English. “Julie tells me you may not be with us for much longer.”

  “I’m hoping my plans will change.”

  “I do as well.”

  At that moment, Little Reba announced dinner and everyone moved to the table. Val noted that Drake wasn’t in the room. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed by his absence, but it was a lie. She chose a seat across from Raimond and Sable. As everyone was settling in, Beau walked over to Val. “May I?” he asked, indicating the empty chair to her left.

  “Of course.”

  He sat. “I hear you may be leaving us.”

  “Possibly,” she replied.

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping—”

  A sharp tap on his shoulder caused him to look up.

  Drake.

  Like his brothers, Drake was dressed in a well-tailored black suit that emphasized his frame.

  Beau held his brother’s gaze. No words were spoken. Beau sighed aloud and rose to his feet. “Enjoy your dinner, Valinda.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Drake sat. “Good evening, cheri. How was your day?” he asked easily.

  She glanced across the table at Sable who cracked, “Lots of clothesline, Val. Lots.”

  Val leaned close to Drake and asked softly, “Why’d you make your brother move?”

  “I didn’t. He decided he wanted to sit elsewhere.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  As the meal progressed and the conversation and laughter flowed, Val noted how happy Julianna appeared. She and her Henri were seated next to each other. They shared whispers, smiles, and their feelings for each other were quite apparent. Henri was left-handed. Julianna used her right. His right hand held her left throughout and Val thought the display both tender and sweet.

  “How long have your mother and Henri been married?” she asked Drake quietly.

  “A little over two years. They married a few months after Rai and Sable spoke their vows.”

  “They look happy.”

  “They are. He was my father’s best friend and loved Mama from afar. They should’ve married years ago, but Henri didn’t want to disrespect my father’s memory.”

  Another love match, she realized. In fact, Julianna had two in her lifetime. She glanced at Drake.

  “Yes?”

  She wanted to understand the feelings that tied Sable to Raimond and Julianna to Henri and how it impacted them as individuals, but she didn’t know how to express it and have it make sense. “Nothing.”

  “Are you certain?”

  She nodded and returned to the food on her plate.

  Dessert was a sumptuous bread pudding topped with a rich vanilla bean sauce. Once everyone had a piece on their dessert plates, Raimond stood up. The room quieted. He raised his wineglass. “A toast to Henri and our Lovely Julianna. May your love endure.”

  Cheers filled the air. Henri leaned over and gave his lady a kiss, to the delight of all.

  At the end of the evening, goodbyes were shared, everyone left for home, and Julianna and Henri retired upstairs to their suite of rooms. Val and Drake were the only ones left in the now-silent dining room, and after last night’s restless sleep, she was tired. “Good night, Drake.”

  She was on her way out of the room when she heard, “May I share your company for a short while?”

  She turned. Viewing him and his intense gaze, she sensed herself on the cusp of something she couldn’t name. Everything she knew about him, from his love of tree houses to his strong sense of caring, made her yearn to know more. Rather than debate the reasons why she shouldn’t accept his invitation, she replied, “Yes.”

  “The mosquitoes may run us back inside, but shall we sit in the gazebo?”

  She nodded. When he offered his arm, the silent gesture made her swallow nervously, but she let him escort her out into the night.

  The moon had risen, and its beams bathed the gravel path with pale light. The breeze was soft and the air fragrant with the scent of Julianna’s night-blooming jasmine. Val told herself she wasn’t really nervous. After all, she’d sat with him in the gazebo before, but never alone in the dark, an inner voice reminded her sagely.

  They took seats opposite each other in the darkened gazebo. She heard the scratch of a match, and light sprang to life on the wick of a small candle that sat on a piece of tin in the center of the table.

  “You came prepared,” she said.

  “I wanted to be able to see you and hoped it would make you more comfortable.”

  “I appreciate your caring.”

  “Always the gentleman.”

  For a few moments, silence ro
se between them, bringing with it the unique music of the night. She savored the breeze and watched it ruffle the candle’s flame.

  “Tell me something about you I don’t know, cheri.”

  “No one’s ever called me cheri before,” she replied.

  “No?”

  “Do you address other women that way? Your mistress, maybe?”

  “Is that the hellion asking?”

  “Yes.” She wanted to know because if he used it commonly, she’d rather be addressed by her name.

  “Then tell her no, and that I no longer have a mistress. She’s received a better offer.”

  She searched his face in the wavering light. “Are you saddened by it?”

  “My ego is. The rest of me will live. I enjoyed our times together, but it was a business arrangement, nothing more.”

  Val realized how naïve she was. She never considered a man’s arrangement with a mistress might be viewed so dispassionately, but that he no longer had a mistress didn’t sadden her, either.

  “Tell me something else,” he encouraged softly.

  The passionate kiss between Raimond and Sable rose in her mind, but she shied away from adding that to the conversation. “I’m terrible at singing, embroidery, and playing the piano.”

  “All the things society expects a good woman to master.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I enjoy science, but my father wouldn’t let me add more schooling to my education.”

  “Why not?”

  “He believes too much education damages women and makes them unfit for bearing children. Do you believe a woman wanting to learn is damaging?”

  “With the Lovely Julianna as my mother? No.”

  She smiled. He was easy to talk to. In that way he was much like Cole. She thought of him and wondered about their future.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “Honestly? I was thinking about Cole.”

  “Give me my penny back.”

  She laughed. “I was thinking that the two of you are alike in that you’re easy to talk to.”

  “It doesn’t matter. A man convinces a beautiful lady to sit with him in the dark, only to be told she’s thinking about another man.”

  “I’ve never been kissed,” she whispered, then wished she could take it back, then decided she didn’t. Then decided Drake LeVeq was making her lose her mind.

  He searched her face in the shadows. “Ever?”

  “Ever.”

  “Not even by your intended?”

  “No. I mean, he’s kissed me on my forehead and cheeks. But—”

  “Not your lips?”

  She shook her head. The candle’s weak light showed his unspoken questions.

  “Please don’t think less of him.”

  “I don’t.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed him but chose to take him at his word. “Cole is incredibly kind and good.”

  “You don’t have to defend him to me, cheri.”

  “I feel as if I do.”

  “You don’t.”

  Again taking him at his word, she nodded, adding, “So, here I sit, a fully grown woman who watched your brother give Sable a kiss this morning that seemed to melt her from her spine to her toes, and I know nothing about that. But I feel as if I should, even if society thinks a properly raised girl shouldn’t.” She looked at him. “I blame you and your pirate kin. I was fine until I met your family with all its love and passion.”

  He laughed. “Will you come sit beside me?”

  She stood and joined him on his side of the table. He draped an arm over her shoulder and eased her close to his side.

  “We LeVeqs can be pretty contagious.”

  “My parents can barely tolerate being in the same room, but I saw the way Henri held Julianna’s hand during dinner, and it was so touching. This is all so different for me.”

  “No two families are alike,” he said.

  “Cole’s parents at least like each other, but they don’t hold hands during dinner, nor have I ever seen them act the way Sable and your brother did this morning.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was mad at him for punching a poet in the nose.”

  “Ah, the pesky Gaspar Cadet. Rai’s been itching to toss him in the gutter for years, but she didn’t look upset with Rai at dinner tonight.”

  “He told her that when they got home from dinner tonight, he’d get down on his knees and apologize, and that she’d be very pleased. Sable’s face turned beet red.”

  Drake’s laughter was loud enough to startle the moon.

  “I assume that has something to do with what you called bed games, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it means, what?”

  “I can’t tell you, cheri. That will be between you and Cole.”

  She fell back against his shoulder. “Why do men want unmarried women to be so ignorant?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s how the world works.”

  “It’s very unfair.”

  He turned to look at her in the shadows. “I adore you so much.”

  “But not enough to tell me what Rai meant?”

  He laughed. “No, so stop asking me.”

  She sighed.

  “Don’t pout, cheri.”

  “One more thing on the list women aren’t supposed to do?”

  “If you were mine, I’d be on my knees right now, believe me.”

  Not even the shadows could mask the heat in his eyes. He drew a slow finger over her bottom lip and her eyes closed. “May I kiss you instead?” he asked, whispered.

  Val had no barriers left. “Yes . . .”

  He brushed his lips over her forehead. “Were you mine, there’d be no secrets . . . only pleasure.”

  He kissed each of her trembling eyelids, traced a slow blistering path down to the space beneath her ear, and gently teased the tip of his tongue against the edge of her lips. When they parted on her sigh, his claimed hers in a kiss that was moan-inducing, head-spinning, bone-melting. She’d never experienced anything like it, and then he slowly drew away. Floating on the sensations, it took a few seconds for her brain to restart so she could move. Opening her eyes, she saw him above her. She reached out and cupped his bearded cheek. The hellion in her leaned up and boldly kissed him again and thrilled to the sound of his groan. The pressure of his lips increased, his arms around her tightened, and she was eased closer, her softness flush against his hardness. Hot lips sought out the thin strip of skin above her high collar, while his large hand explored her back and spine. His lips covered hers again and the world began spinning. There was a yearning between her thighs. Her blood rushed. He then placed his hands on her waist, tore his lips from hers, and set her down a short distance away.

  “You belong to another, cheri. You’re making me forget that.”

  Val felt as if she’d just run a race. If this was passion, she wanted more.

  “Let’s go inside.”

  “Drake—”

  “Come on. Otherwise you’ll be out here with your dress raised and me on my knees.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  He smiled and stood.

  She stood, too. She’d never felt this with Cole or anyone else. “Thank you for the kiss.”

  “You’re welcome.” He blew out the candle and walked her back to the house.

  Inside it was as quiet as it had been earlier, but Val was not the same. Drake’s pirate kisses had opened a door inside herself that she wanted to fling wide open. She and Cole were to be married, but he didn’t leave her breathless or make her want to be kissed until dawn because they had no physical attraction to each other, and thus, no desire.

  “Good night, cheri.”

  “Good night.”

  At two in the morning, Liam Atwater was awakened by the sounds of someone banging on his door. Thinking he might be dreaming, he ignored it at first, but when it continued, he sat up. His wife, Mildred, asked sleepily, “Is someone at the door?”

  “Yeah
. Go back to sleep.”

  She rolled over. Dressed in a faded nightshirt that exposed his pale, bony legs, he stepped into his worn leather slippers and picked up the rifle kept by the bedroom door. The knocking continued. He hollered, “I’m coming, dammit! Keep your drawers on!”

  He paused for a moment to look out the parlor window, but seeing nothing in the darkness, shuffled to the door and pulled it open. Strong hands locked on to his arms, scaring him badly. He struggled to free himself. They relieved him of the rifle and he yelled furiously, “Let me go! Who are you?”

  He was forced to the edge of the moonlit porch. Out of the darkness came five mounted men slowly riding abreast. The wind whipped at the edge of their black capes. Their faces were hidden beneath black hoods and he shook with fear. He opened his mouth to scream Mildred’s name, but the gag was faster, tighter. The hood placed over his head plunged him into total darkness, and the terror made him soil himself. His wrists were bound behind him and he was dragged off the porch and down to the night-damp ground.

  He lost a shoe, but his captors didn’t care. From within the hood, he cried, screamed, and, yes, begged, but the gag muffled it all. Liam was five-foot-four-inches tall. He weighed one hundred and forty pounds. The men from his nightmare had no trouble throwing him into the bed of a wagon. As it got underway, he heard Mildred screaming, but there was nothing he could do.

  How long the drive took, Liam didn’t know, but not even the hood could mask the smells of rotting vegetation or the distinct song of the frogs and grunts of gators. They were in the swamp. The wagon slowed and stopped.

  He was hauled out and placed on his now bare feet. For the first time, someone addressed him. “Liam Atwater, you’re guilty of the murder of Daniel Downs, and justice will be served.”

  He wailed behind the gag. His arms were latched onto again. He tried to wrest himself free but was lifted and set down in what felt like a dugout.

  The voice said, “You gave Daniel no chance, but we’re not completely heartless. Somewhere near you is a hunting knife. Find it, and maybe you can save yourself, but be quick. There are holes drilled in the bottom of the canoe. It’ll sink fast, and the gators will come running.”