Dark Shadows

by Jana Petken

  “Are you going to invite me in?” Jacob asked.

  Du Pont pushed the slave girl aside and came to stand at the doorway. She poked her head out and looked around to find out if he was alone. “No. It’s late. I was just going to bed, and I’m not accepting visitors.”

  Jacob pushed her and the slave aside, strode into the drawing room, and waited for du Pont to join him. He warmed his hands by the fire and glanced at his tired bearded face in the mirror above the fireplace. “I see you have another slave,” he said when she entered the room.

  “I have, and I plan to get more. What’s it to you?”

  “Just an observation,” Jacob said.

  “John Manning, my dear friend, got her for me. John and I have been stepping out together, you know. So, Mr Stone, why are you here?”

  Jacob continued to stand in front of the fire but turned to face her. “Oh, I think you know.”

  “No, I don’t know, so you best be telling me before I throw you out.”

  Jacob laughed at her. “I’ll leave when I get what I’ve come for. Don’t threaten me.”

  “Well, go on; out with it, then.”

  “I want information about Mercy Carver,” he told her.

  “Mercy Carver? Why do you want to know about her? I do know her, of course, but I can’t help you. I don’t know where the girl is – England, I suppose. She was just a well-used whore who came to me for a job, just like all the other whores did. You must know this, Mr Stone – you visited my mansion many times to fuck my girls.”

  Jacob felt his rage rise to the surface. He returned her contemptuous look. “Yep, I guess I did, so you can drop the ‘Mrs Mallory’ act with me. I know who and what you are. I know the truth about how you acquired your whores. I know that you beat them, tortured them, and killed God knows how many. I despise you. If I weren’t a law-abiding citizen, I’d take you to that basement of yours, shackle you to the wall, and beat you to death. But I’m not like you. I’m a decent human being.”

  Madam du Pont sat in an armchair and stared with loathing at Jacob. “If you think your insults bother me, you’re mistaken. I’ve known tougher men than you who tried to best me and couldn’t. Let’s just get down to business. You want to know about Mercy Carver, and I want to know why you haven’t told anyone who I am and how we met in Liverpool. Am I correct?”

  “That’s about right, so let’s not waste any more time. There’s no civility here between us. What do you know about Mercy Carver’s whereabouts?” Jacob asked.

  “All I know is that she was in Portsmouth and then disappeared. I was shocked to learn she was here. How the hell she managed to get herself on a ship to America, I’ll never know. What’s your interest in her?”

  “It doesn’t matter what my interest is. I’m here for answers, and you’re going to give them to me. I know she was in this house. Your man Eddie abducted her. I know this because the two slave girls you murdered told me that she’d been imprisoned here and had escaped. They told me everything before they died at your hands.” Jacob saw and heard her intake of breath. “Don’t waste my time denying it. We both know it’s the truth, so don’t insult me with lies. You tortured and killed your slaves. I know you got information from them. I’ll stand here all night until you tell me exactly what they told you about the night your two men were killed.”

  “They were murdered in cold blood!”

  “I don’t think so. They probably deserved to die, same as you.”

  “I’ll report you to the sheriff, so I will. You’ve no right to be here, butchering me like this. You’re trespassing, and I can get you charged for that!

  “I told you once, and I’ll tell you again – don’t threaten me.”

  “It’s not a threat. I’ll do it. I’ll drag your bloody name in the mud. What would your wife think of this, you barging in here without so much as a by-your-leave? I’ve been seeing a lot of your Elizabeth. Me and her have been keeping company ever since you went off gallivanting, looking for your whore. I’m having lunch with her tomorrow. She’s become quite dependent on me. I’m such a good listener, and she has so much to say about you.”

  “You’ll stay away from my wife!” Jacob blazed.

  “Oh, hit a nerve, have I? Well, it’s too late for that. She’s told me all about you being a rotten husband, and she’ll be telling a lot more people soon, you mark my words. She likes my company, and I have a lot of tasty titbits to tell her, none of them nice where you and Mercy Carver are concerned. So don’t you bloody tell me what to do. I’ll swat you like a fly! That’s right, Mr Stone, you just try telling tales on me to your wife or keep me away from her and we’ll see who’s sorry then. If you make any accusations against me, I’ll make sure there’s a warrant out for Mercy Carver on a charge of murder.

  “I’ll tell everyone you killed my two slave girls and buried them in my garden. Oh, I know where you put them all right, and I know it was you – and probably your brother and that Isaac. I’ll take you and your whore to the depths of hell with me if you don’t leave me alone to get on with my life in peace.” She shot him a look filled with hatred.

  “You’ll never have peace, not while I’m alive,” Jacob told her.

  “Don’t you dare bully me, ya big bugger! I’ll not be having it. Mercy Carver was here, though I doubt she was abducted. Do you want to know what those black bitches said? They said Carver killed my Eddie and Moses. They told me she took off with that black git, Nelson, and they said she wasn’t sorry for killing poor Eddie. There, what do you think of that?” She glared at him.

  Jacob digested her every word. She had just confirmed that Mercy had been alive and well when she had left the farm. He remained outwardly calm, but his heart was thumping. He’d never wanted to kill before, but he did now. It would be a pleasure to wring du Pont’s neck.

  “Did the slaves tell you where she was headed?”

  “No! I’m telling you nothing else.”

  “Listen carefully. You will stay away from my wife. You won’t go near my brother and sister-in-law either. And if you call Mercy a whore once more, I’ll break your damn neck. I’m warning you: don’t take my reticence to dispose of you for weakness. I will destroy you when I’m ready.”

  “You can’t destroy me! Didn’t you hear what I just said? Mercy Carver murdered my Eddie and Moses. I have the sheriff in the palm of my hand and his cock in my mouth to keep him happy. I’ve got your wife running after me like a puppy dog because you’re neglectful of her. I have Virginia’s finest inviting me to their parties, and I have enough dirt on you and Mercy Carver to bury you both. So tell me, what are you going to do for me? Are you going to keep your mouth shut or are you going to force me to cry like your mealy-mouthed wife and tell everyone what Mercy Carver and you have done?”

  Jacob was losing patience. She had ingratiated herself into his family. He dreaded to think about what Hendry and Belle must be going through. They had obviously not given her real identity away or acknowledged it. She had also gotten Sheriff Manning into her bed. She was toying with him, and he now knew that talking was not going to get him the information he needed.

  She sat back with a look of satisfaction on her face.

  Jacob’s anger was mounting. His breathing quickened; he was being consumed by hatred. Storming across the room, he ripped the wig from her head. She squealed, and a fearful expression crossed her face. He pulled her out of the chair, marching her to the mirror with his hand gripping the back of her neck. The kohl along her bottom eyelids ran in straight lines down her cheeks, along with her face powder and tears. His heavy hand drew across her eyes and mouth, swiping the red paint off her lips until it was all over her cheeks, chin, and jawbone. He pushed her face towards the mirror until her nose touched it. He forced her to look at her reflection, fingers digging into her skin.

  “Look at yourself. Take a good long look at your balding scabby head. See your wrinkly skin and ugly face. Look at all the ugliness inside you, out in the open, sitting on your fac
e. I’ll drag you down the Portsmouth Road like this. I am one of the most powerful men in Virginia. There is not a politician, judge, or jury that won’t do my bidding. So don’t test my patience, you damn murdering whore!”

  Her fear was visible as she stared at her reflection, seemingly mesmerised. “You’re a bastard. I’ll scream, and my slave will come running,” she hissed at him.

  Jacob drew his gun, turned du Pont around to face him, and pressed the tip of his Colt to her forehead. He pushed it hard against her skin, giving it a circular dent. He cocked the gun and stared into her face with eyes blazing. “Make a sound and I’ll blow your head into this damn mirror. Now tell me about the night Mercy Carver was here – everything.”

  “I need your word that you’ll keep your mouth shut about me.” She was sobbing now.

  “You’re in no position to bargain, and stop the tears. You’re not human enough to cry. Start talking,” he ordered.

  “The slaves … told me that she looked at a map. She had this stupid notion of getting to the North with the slave, Nelson. The girls wouldn’t tell me at first, but then they spilled their guts. They gave her food, and she stole guns. The bitch took the same gun she killed Eddie with. That’s all I know. I don’t know anything else!”

  Jacob believed her. He re-holstered his gun and then pulled her back from the mirror and threw her into the chair. He picked up her wig and tossed it into the fire before turning to face her.

  “You’ve tested my patience, du Pont. Way I see it, you’ve got two choices. You can leave now and never come back, and you might live a long and miserable life cos that’s what you deserve. Or you can remain here. But if you decide to stay, know that I will make your life hell and it will be short. I may not do what I’m aiming to do today or tomorrow, but your past will catch up with you. You have my word that I am going to end you for what you did to Mercy and those innocent girls, both here and in Liverpool. You won’t walk down a street in Virginia without looking over your shoulder; I’ll always be watching, deciding whether it’s the day to abduct you, take you to a backwater swamp, and cut your throat wide open.”

  “You can’t talk to me like this! You can’t tell a woman you’re going to kill her and get away with it. You hurt my head, ya bugger!” she screamed at him.

  “I will get away with it. I’ve never met pure evil before, yet here you sit right in front of me. You’re no woman. You’re a murdering old whore! As God is my witness, I’ll snuff you out. Send a note to my wife. Lunch is cancelled. Don’t so much as try to see her again or go near my brother and sister-in-law....And remember one thing: I can protect myself and Mercy from you, but who is going to protect you from me?”

  Jacob put on his hat and turned to the door. “This conversation never happened. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, we’re clear on that, and it suits me just fine. But I’m not going anywhere. You don’t scare me, and you’ll not be stopping me from seeing who I bloody well please! If you say anything about me, I’ll make up so many stories about you that your bleedin’ head will spin. Now get out of my house – ya back-stabbing lout!”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Jacob finally arrived at Hendry’s town house. Elizabeth was in their bedroom, Handel told him. Mr Hendry and Miss Belle had retired.

  He ordered a tray with cold meats, bread, and hot chocolate, telling Handel to get a hot bath ready for him.

  He forced his aching body up the stairs to the guest bedroom and found Elizabeth brushing out her long straight hair. “You’re still up,” he said.

  Elizabeth greeted him sarcastically. “As you can see, yes, I am. So you’re back – or are you going to leave again in the morning?”

  “Yes, I’m back, my dear,” he said. “Are you well?”

  “I’m well enough, as if you care. I’m spitting mad. You abandoned me and I’m still a new bride. I just don’t know what our friends must be thinking. Your behaviour is unforgivable, Jacob. It’s despicable.”

  He answered a knock at the door. Two servants carried buckets of hot water and filled the tub in an adjoining room, which had a raging fire going in the hearth. Jacob closed the door between Elizabeth and himself, undressed, and got into the tub’s inviting warmth, which he figured should just be enough to thaw him out and calm the anger that still lingered.

  After dinner, Jacob joined Elizabeth in bed. She was asleep, or so he thought. He was exhausted, yet he was hungry for the feel of a woman – any woman, for in his mind, she would be Mercy, and he had never needed Mercy more. He caressed Elizabeth’s body, dreaming of Mercy, eyes closed and a small smile planted on his mouth. He was jolted out of his dream when he suddenly felt Elizabeth tossing his hand aside.

  He snapped his eyes open in shock. He looked up at her, sitting with her back now resting on fluffed-up pillows and arms crossed over her breasts, hidden under her large floor-length cotton nightdress. She wore a scowl that managed to wipe out any trace of sweetness on her face. She had a right to be angry, Jacob thought. He would allow her barrage of insults and would accept her punishment, whatever that might be. He waited patiently whilst she continued to rage at him with a stare alone. Finally, he said, “All right, Elizabeth. Say your piece.”

  “I don’t want you to touch me. I’ve not long bathed, and I don’t want to be sullied. It’s too cold to have to get out of bed to clean myself.”

  “Oh, I see,” was all he managed to say. He was surprised to be having this conversation.

  Elizabeth pouted like a sullen child and began again. “It’s obvious to me and everyone else in this house that you’re in love with that Englishwoman. Belle isn’t even taking my side. Why, she barely speaks to me anymore, and Hendry is just like a puppy dog doing her bidding.”

  “That’s called love, my dear.”

  “Well, I don’t care what you call it. You will never see that Mercy Carver woman again, so it makes no difference one way or the other. She’ll be dead somewhere by now.”

  “She might well be dead in this cold, lying under a tree, rotting as we speak. Does that please you?”

  “Don’t you dare be sarcastic, Jacob Stone. You know fine well that you’ve humiliated me in front of everyone from here to Norfolk!”

  “I think that may be an exaggeration. I’m sure folks are too busy hibernating from the cold at the moment to be bothered about us.”

  “You’re not a gentleman. To think I could have had any man I wanted – but I chose you,” she told him. “Why, I don’t know what I was thinking. But since we are married in the eyes of the Lord, you had better treat me right or my family will hurt you and your brother. It’s just as well my poor mother doesn’t know what I’ve been going through. Her heart wouldn’t take the shame of it all.”

  “Then let’s be thankful that it’s too cold for your mother to entertain and hear all about your shame. Now answer me this – why are you so damn mad about another woman when you’ve just thrown my arm away? Don’t you want me to caress you?”

  “I don’t want you to make love to me. I don’t need those affections. I just need you to be a good husband, especially in front of our friends and anywhere in public,” she stated, surprising him again.

  “But don’t you want children?”

  “Why, yes, but not yet. In a year, maybe.”

  Jacob tried to stop a gurgle of laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth, barely controlling himself and his thoughts. “You know we have to have sex if you want to conceive,” he reminded her.

  “I know that. I’m not stupid! I just don’t want to take any chances that I may get pregnant before I’m ready. I want to have some fun. And you are going to allow me to have what I want, because if you don’t, I’ll tell everyone in Portsmouth that you’re being a beast to me and that you’re in love with common white trash!”

  Jacob laid his head on the pillow, tired out and too drained by tonight’s events to think straight. He didn’t want to touch cold, uninviting flesh any more than she wanted him to touch her. He woul
dn’t caress her again. He turned his back on her. “We’re going home tomorrow, so if you have made plans, cancel them. Stone Plantation needs my attention. As my wife, you will be by my side – like a good Southern woman.”

  He lay in the darkness. Du Pont wouldn’t get onto his land, never mind up to his front door. She would have to be dealt with, but for the life of him, he didn’t know how the hell he was going to get rid of her.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  After four days in rugged terrain and without bearings, Mercy and Nelson found themselves in deep trouble. They had no idea where they were, they had no food, the snow was falling day and night, and the horses laboured with weakening legs as they waded through it.

  They travelled in what seemed a never-ending world of snowy ground, trees, and hidden rocks that had caused Mercy to fall off her horse twice. Sleep was impossible due to the relentless bitter cold, and they had not come across any type of shelter in days. The landscape was difficult to gauge because of the huge canvas of fir trees and nothing else. Mercy had at times despaired, for she had absolutely no idea which direction to take. Everything around them looked the same as it had the day before and the day before that. For all she knew, they had been going in circles. There were no markers or clearings to give them a clear path or a horizon. There was nothing but a ceiling of trees and a ground of crusted ice and snow.

  Mercy sat huddled as close to the small fire as possible, urging it to extend her some heat.

  Nelson was shivering so much that his body visibly shook from head to toe, and she could see his numbed hands having difficulty holding his icy water-filled tin cup.

  Mercy was crying softly, without the strength to scream her frustrations. “We’re going to die, Nelson. We can’t go on like this. I’m afraid to sleep because I’m sure I won’t wake up again.” She sobbed and shivered at the same time.

  “We need proper shelter. It’s January now – January and then February. Them are dead months,” Nelson told her through chattering teeth. “We need to hunker down somewhere till spring; that’s what we need to do, Miss Mercy.”