by M. S. Parker
“May I come in?”
The door jerked open before I could turn the knob.
“Honor!” Celina grabbed my wrist and pulled me into her room. “Please do not let them take me again. I could not bear it.”
Her eyes skittered from one side of the room to the other, as if the people she feared might jump out of the shadows. Her hair was wild, her eyes wide and terrified. The moment I saw that her nails had been bitten down to the quick, I knew she'd been carrying this fear longer than just the short time Alize had alluded to.
I didn't even think about it as I pulled her to me in a tight embrace. I'd always been protective of people I cared about, and now that included this young woman. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. They won’t get to you, Celina, I promise.”
“I am bound to them by law.” Her voice was muffled as she pressed her face against my shoulder.
“I know,” I said reluctantly. “But I promise that I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if that means we have to sneak you to the ship right before we set sail. You will be coming to America with us.”
Celina nodded. There was a noise outside the door, and she jolted back so quickly that the top of her head almost caught my chin.
“Calm down,” I whispered as I angled myself in front of her. I didn't think we were in danger, but I wouldn’t take any chances. “Stay behind me.”
I opened the door a crack, peering out. I released a sigh of relief when I saw Gracen coming toward us. His eyes met mine a moment before he entered. I shut the door behind him and resisted the urge to throw myself into his arms. The expression on his face told me that he was here for the same reason I was.
“You heard.”
“Yes.” He gave Celina a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “I have already spoken with the household staff, and they all know to keep watch. No one is to come in or go out of the mansion until we get this taken care of.”
Tears pooled in Celina’s eyes. “Thank you. I know that I am only a servant–”
“That is no reason to excuse injustice and inhumane behavior,” he answered gravely.
Celina offered a watery smile of appreciation. “I am forever in your debt.”
“All we want is for you and Alize to be safe and happy.” He glanced at me. “Everyone deserves a chance to be loved.”
“Why don't you go see Alize?” I smiled at Celina. “Let her know you're okay. With everyone aware of the situation, there's no need for you to hide in here all the time.”
As she hurried away, Gracen directed the two men at the door to follow, but keep their distance. At least that's what I assumed he was saying to them based on the few words I recognized.
When he held out his hand to me, I took it and followed him down the hall to our room. He had dealt with the situation with what had looked like unwavering confidence, but I could tell the moment we were alone that he had his doubts as well. How were we going to manage this? We had to come up with a plan, and it needed to be a good one. There would be no second chances once we made our move, and without knowing specifically when we’d be able to sail, we couldn't risk a long wait.
“I'm prepared to keep Celina here and smuggle her onto the ship when we're ready, but moving to the colonies is supposed to give her a new start. She can’t have this hanging over her head. She'll spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, no matter where she is.”
“I agree,” he said with a sigh. “And with Alexandre staying here, he could find himself being held responsible for her escape. That is something I would not want to risk.”
“I hadn't thought of that.” I removed my shoes, massaging my arch where the leather pinched after a long day. An idea hit me. “Could we buy out her contract?”
Gracen's expression was one of surprise, but not disapproval.
“I don't know much about how the whole indentured thing works,” I continued. “In my time, we focused on the horrors of slavery because it had such a huge effect on the country, but no one really talked about indentured servants. They existed in the States, I know, but slavery was a much bigger problem, especially since blacks who were either born free or set free were sometimes captured and sold within the country.”
“I would have hoped that a country fighting for its freedom would have given it to all men.” He looked troubled as he sat next to me.
“Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Not for every state anyway. The northern ones will begin to outlaw slavery almost from moment one, but America will fight a war between southern states and northern ones when the federal government tells states that they can't own slaves.”
“What happens?”
“The North wins.” I stretched my back, sighing with relief as my spine cracked. “Slavery is abolished in the United States, but equality is still a long way off, both for former slaves and their descendants, as well as for women.”
“Women?” He looked startled.
I smiled. “Yes, dear. Women. We get to vote and make our own decisions and have any job a man can have. We can take care of ourselves. Marriage and relationships are choices, not requirements.” I couldn't help laughing at the shock on his face. “Granted, even in my time women and minorities have to fight against prejudice, but we at least have the law on our side by then.”
He shook his head, though it was out of bewilderment rather than negativity. “I cannot even imagine what it has been like for you here.” He put his palm against my cheek. “Having all of that freedom, and then being here where it has all been stripped away.”
I covered his hand with my own. “Do you understand now why it means so much to me to free Celina? To give her and Alize the chance to make a life for themselves? I hate the inequalities of my own time. Seeing them so much worse here, and knowing there's nothing I can do about them...”
“But you can do something for her,” he finished my thought.
“Exactly.”
He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. “Let me speak with Alexandre and see what can be done.” He kissed the top of my head. “I promise you that we will not leave this country without both girls.”
Chapter 7
Alexandre agreed to pay off the debt owed on Celina's contract, though Gracen and I would have to be the ones who approached the couple who owned it. Something was happening at court that demanded his immediate attention. I spent a couple hours worrying that something Gracen and I had done had skewed history bad enough for the French to refuse support, then Alexandre had shared that his emergency had to do with one of the king's former mistresses making a nuisance of herself, and I allowed myself to relax.
Alize wasn’t happy that we'd gone to her father, but once she discovered that he offered to buy Celina's contract and didn't think any less of the girl, she'd been thrilled. I couldn't deny that I would've thought less of Alexandre if he'd held Celina's situation against her. Taking on her parents' debt after they died and selling herself as an indentured servant to keep her brother safe – all when she was thirteen – was something to be admired, not condemned.
In theory, it would all work out. Celina's debt would be cleared, and she would be free to sail with us to the colonies without fear. However, if her employers wouldn’t accept our offer, we'd truly need a miracle. Going to her employers to make the offer would acknowledge that we had her, and they could decide to take legal action against us. Alexandre had some pull in the right social circles, but there was no guarantee that it would work.
Anastasie and Marius Couture lived on the first floor of the boarding house where I'd been kept during my two-day imprisonment. There was some connection between the couple and Harry, but Celina wasn't sure what it was. Not that it changed anything. He could've been a complete stranger, and it still would've made what the Coutures had done to Celina reprehensible. Them knowing him did, however, explain why he'd taken me there. He'd known they'd look the other way.
Gracen and I could have reported them for their part in my kidnap
ping, but we didn't have any proof. Then there was the fact that he'd killed Harry to save Celina and me. The Coutures hadn't reported that to the authorities, so I'd been okay with keeping quiet too. Now that they were coming after Celina, however, we didn't have a choice.
It had taken Alexandre a day to get together the funds we needed, so it was the fourteenth when we were finally ready to go. I wasn't sure which I liked more: the humor that came with the oddity of the situation that this was our first Valentine's Day date or the romanticism of freeing a pair of star-crossed lovers.
One of whom had decided that she wanted to go with us.
“You don’t need to go, Celina,” I said. “There’s really no need.” When she looked unconvinced, I continued, “Besides, we want you to stay safe while we negotiate.”
“And what of the two of you?” she pointed out. “I do not want you getting hurt because of me.”
“There is no guarantee of safety for anyone,” Gracen said. “But as the law is technically on their side, you are the one in the most danger.”
The expression on Alize's face said that she agreed with Gracen and me, but she didn't say anything. I recognized that look because I'd worn it myself. It was the look of someone who was at a loss as to how to protect the person they loved.
When Celina nodded in reluctant agreement, relief and joy replaced Alize's fear, and it reminded me of why I was so determined to see Celina freed. She and Celina deserved to be happy.
“We’ll be okay. You two just stay here.” I hoped that I sounded more confident of myself than I felt.
Gracen nodded, but I could feel his tension as he put his hand on the small of my back. He didn't say anything, however, until we were outside and heading for the St. James carriage.
“I can do this on my own.” His voice was thick with emotion. “You should stay back with the girls.”
I shook my head, pushing up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
He sighed but didn't argue, which I was grateful for. When I was dressed, I could still hide my condition, but both Gracen and I had noticed the slight curve to my belly when it was bare. He loved to sleep with his hand there, though it was far too early for him to feel anything.
Sometimes, when I had difficulty sleeping, I'd watch him after he'd already gone under, trace the lines of his face with my gaze, memorizing every inch. I'd heard of women who had extra-vivid dreams when they were pregnant, and that seemed to be the case. Considering how strange my dreams had been before I'd gotten pregnant, I knew a restful night wasn't something I'd get very often, but watching him sleep, knowing that our child and I were loved had its own sort of peacefulness to it.
Nerves only settled in for me when the carriage jolted to a stop in front of the house that held such horrible memories. Gracen moved to leave, but I tugged on his arm. He looked back at me with his eyebrows raised in question.
“There’s no plan B,” I said.
He looked confused, and I remembered that he wouldn't know that particular slang. “We only have one plan,” I clarified. “If this doesn’t work, we’re done.”
Gracen cupped my face in his hands and brushed his lips against mine. “If this doesn't work, we will figure something else out.”
I really hoped he was right because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we let Celina and Alize down. I took a slow breath as he climbed out of the carriage and then followed him out, my fingers tightening around his as we walked into the boarding house. It was cleaner inside than I remembered, but I hadn't exactly been thinking clearly, so it wasn't surprising I didn't remember much.
Other than what showed up in my nightmares.
The room was empty, but a bell sat on the counter, so I rang it with my free hand while I continued to hold onto Gracen with my other one. I was starting to get a bad feeling about this, and not in the same nervous way I had before. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something had me on edge.
“Qu'est-ce?” A man’s voice snapped from somewhere in the shadows.
“Je m'appelle Gracen Lightwood.” Gracen glanced at me. “My wife and I would like to speak with Madame and Monsieur Couture.”
A man stepped forward, his clothes dark and his skin gray enough to make me immediately think of creepy things like ghouls and ghosts. He was tall and thin, with a hooked nose, like some sort of Disney villain.
“What do you want?”
His accent was rough, not like the more refined ones that Alexandre and Alize possessed.
“Are you Marius Couture?” Gracen asked.
The man nodded slowly.
“We're here about Celina Rosier.”
“Why are two English asking about our servant?”
The years hadn’t been kind to the woman who hobbled into the front room. The ugly bitterness that twisted her face made me fear even more for Celina than I had before we’d come. That bad feeling in my stomach increased exponentially.
“Anastasie?” I asked.
“You have brought her back?” Her beady eyes narrowed. “I do not see her.”
“She's not here,” I said, ignoring the sudden churning that made me wonder if I was going to be sick.
“She is our property,” Marius snapped.
“So we have been told,” Gracen said evenly.
Anastasie slammed her fists on her hips. “Then why did you not bring her?”
“We want to buy her contract,” I blurted out.
It caught them off-guard for only a few seconds before greed took over.
“She is – how do you say it? – vaut beaucoup?”
“Celina told us what's left on her contract.” I didn't know what vaut beaucoup meant, but I knew these two would try to take every last penny they could.
Gracen held out the bag that Alexandre had given us, and Anastasie snatched it from him, sneering as she counted. Marius hovered behind her, twisting his long, bony fingers in ways that had me waiting to hear them crack.
“Ce n'est pas assez.”
The hand gesture that accompanied the statement told me that I was right. She wanted more money.
Gracen's mouth flattened. “Celina is only indentured for the length of her contract. What I offered is more than enough to pay for it.”
“You are a fool to think we would accept less.” Marius came around the counter to stand next to his wife. “She is a valuable asset.”
Translation: Celina could be tortured, raped, neglected, and whatever else they wanted to do or have done to her, so they weren't going to let her go unless we made it well worth their while.
“How much more do you want?” Gracen asked.
“Why do you want her?” Marius answered with a question of his own.
“She deserves a better life,” Gracen answered honestly.
“Ah, you have made her promises, have you?” Anastasie cackled, the sort of laugh that would've perfectly fit something from the Grimm brothers. “Or is it someone to warm your bed you want?”
“Trust me, his intentions regarding Celina are entirely honorable,” I replied through clenched teeth.
Marius gave me the sort of cold look that I felt all the way down to my bones. “Perhaps a trade could be made.”
Gracen growled, and I tugged on his hand. “Please, Gracen.” I didn't let an ounce of my anger show, knowing it would only make matters worse. “We're here for Celina. They can run their mouths all they want, as long as we get what we want in the end.”
He took a slow breath and squeezed my hand, letting me know that he was in control again.
“We have made a legitimate offer for her contract,” he said. “It would be wise of you to take it, and we both go our own way before what happened here comes to light.”
Marius and his wife exchanged looks before she answered, “We have nothing to hide.”
“I do not believe that is entirely true. I may be a citizen of the British Crown,” Gracen said as he took a step forward. “But I have friends in the Fr
ench court who would not take it well if they found out that my wife had been held here for two days, tortured by the same man who was abusing your servant...with your permission.”
I saw the couple exchange a look that told me they'd known about everything that had been done to me...and that they were afraid of anyone else finding out. That was good, because it was pretty much the only card we had left to play.
“We deserve paiement for time lost since you took her from us.”
I didn't need a translation to understand that particular word. “You can’t be serious. It's not like we had her working for us...”
Gracen squeezed my hand almost tight enough to hurt, and I snapped my mouth shut again.
“We could simply take her,” Marius said. “Or I could demand satisfaction for the insult.”
Satisfaction? It took my brain a few seconds to register what he meant, and when it did, I felt the blood drain from my face. A duel. Marius was threatening to challenge Gracen to a duel.
All I could think of was this one book I'd read where two characters had dueled while they were in France...and one of them had ended up in prison. The sentence for the offense could go as far as execution.
“That's illegal,” I whispered.
“So is murder,” Anastasie said, expression stony. “That did not seem to cause a problem for you before.”
My blood suddenly felt like ice in my veins. Any lingering doubts I might have had that these two had covered up Harry's death disappeared with Anastasie's statement.
“I defend those I love,” Gracen's voice was even, but his eyes were harder than I'd ever seen.
Marius tilted his head. “Is Celina one you love?”
Gracen didn't take the bait. “She is dear to a friend of mine.”
“You are making money from your friend,” Anastasie sneered. “And you try to buy her from us like you are better than us.”
“She's not a piece of meat to be bought and sold!” I took a step forward, seething. “We want her to be free.”