Captured

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Captured Page 22

by Beverly Jenkins


  “When I confronted deMille on the waterfront the other day and told him how intelligent you were, and that you had feelings, he wanted to know why I hadn’t freed you, if I thought so highly of you.”

  “And your reply?”

  “I had none.”

  She sighed audibly. “I’m going back, Victor. I’ll see you inside.”

  As she approached the door she saw Gaspar standing beside it with a drink in his hand. She assumed he’d come outside ostensibly to take in the night air, but in reality was watching over her. The knowledge filled her heart. When she passed by, he asked quietly, “You are well?”

  Looking up into his kind eyes almost made hers fill with tears, but she nodded instead. “I am. Thank you.” And she proceeded back into the hot, noisy parlor.

  Teddy was standing just inside the door speaking with Abner Holloway, a staunch patriot and the owner of one of the largest rice plantations in the Carolinas. According to Teddy he had over a thousand captives in his fields. As soon as she saw Clare she excused herself from him and said, “I’d like to speak with you, if I may.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Teddy stopped one of the servers, a young woman named Hallee, and asked that Violet be told that she and Clare would be speaking in the study for a moment. Hallee and Clare knew each other from the church. Halle’s eyes brushed Clare before resettling on her mistress. “Yes, mistress.”

  Once they were inside the quiet book-lined study, Teddy said, “I won’t keep you long, but I wanted to apologize for Violet’s behavior and for my being responsible for putting you in such an embarrassing situation. DeMille may be French but he appears to be an unfeeling cad.”

  It pained Clare to have Dominic be thought of as malevolent when in reality all he’d shown her was care and love, but this was the game they were playing. “I appreciate your sympathy.”

  “And as for your mistress. All I can say is you deserve better. You are one of the most intelligent women in Savannah, slave or free. Were you mine I would have freed you long ago just as I’ve freed Della.”

  Clare stared. “Della is free?”

  “As are Halle and her husband, Prince.”

  Expecting a trap, Clare studied her face. “Why tell me this?”

  “One, because I know you will be discreet, and two, because I’m hoping to take them north to Boston come spring, war or no war, so they may live free as they deserve. I’d like for you and your children to come accompany us as well, but if my niece and nephew refuse to sell you again, I—”

  Clare’s heart raced. “Again?”

  “Yes. Last autumn I offered good coin to buy you, but they refused.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I can see by your face that is the first you’ve heard. As your owners, them not telling you is their prerogative, of course.”

  Clare’s knees were so weakened she thought she might fall down. “May I sit?”

  “Of course.”

  There were so many emotions flowing through her it was difficult to separate them all. “Did they give you the impression that I might be for sale?”

  “They didn’t, but it’s common knowledge that Victor will lose the land by the end of summer if he doesn’t sell something valuable to pay off this year’s tariffs, and everyone knows that when you subtract the Sullivan land, their next most valuable property is you, Clare.”

  Her eyes closed at the thought of what the future might have held had she not already had Dominic in her life. Gathering herself, she stood once more. “Thank you for telling me this.”

  “So, do you wish for me to try and buy you and the children again so that you may travel with us to Boston, or have you made other arrangements for your future?”

  Clare’s eyes shot to hers and held.

  Teddy said, “He’s not the man he wants us to see, is he? I know you won’t answer that, but I saw all I needed when Violet threatened to put your babe on the block. For a split second his mask slipped. He recovered quickly but I saw the pain. He’s in love with you.”

  Clare stayed silent.

  “I’m going to make the assumption that you came back for your children. I know I would, so if I can be of any assistance please let me know.”

  “Thank you for the apology,” were the only words Clare allowed herself to say.

  “You’re welcome. Now, let’s go back before that vicious niece of mine accuses your man of stealing you again.”

  Outside the door and standing a few feet away were Esteban and James Early. They appeared to be nonchalantly talking to each other, but Teddy didn’t buy it. “She’s fine, gentlemen, as you can see.”

  They didn’t respond, but let the ladies pass them and reenter the parlor before they moved from their post and discreetly followed.

  As Clare searched the noisy gathering crowd for the Sullivans her head was spinning from Teddy’s revelations. Had anyone else seen through their charade, or was she the only one? The idea that she might have been sold added to the emotional whirlwind.

  “Ah, there you are,” Teddy said to Violet, Meg, and Victor as she escorted Clare back. When Clare’s eyes met Victor’s, guilt flashed over his face before he lowered his eyes to the glass in his hand.

  “I must see to my guests. Come, Meg.”

  “What did she want with you?” Violet asked Clare suspiciously after Teddy and Meg were swallowed up by the crowd.

  “To offer an apology, nothing more.”

  Violet was about to say something else when Teddy’s voice rose over the din. “May I have your attention, please.”

  Everyone quieted. “It has come to my attention that Mr. deMille has with him a musician from the court of King Louis XVI who has graciously agreed to play a few selections. I’d like us to step outside where it is cooler so we may enjoy the music at our leisure.”

  Clare almost let a smile slip as she saw Tait, fiddle in hand, leading the way. She’d had no idea he’d accompanied Dominic and the others. She looked forward to hearing him and his fiddle. Teddy, Dominic, and the rest of the crew except for Gaspar fell in behind him. She nonchalantly glanced around the room searching for the quartermaster and found him positioned against a wall only a few feet away from her.

  Violet sniffed, “Victor, go and get the carriage. Clare and I will meet you out by the road. We won’t be staying.”

  He hissed in reply, “Yes, we are. You’ve embarrassed the Sullivan name quite enough for one evening, so act as if you have a modicum of decorum remaining and indulge Teddy.”

  Furious, she rose to her feet and walked stiffly into the crowd flowing slowly towards the door.

  Tait played for nearly an hour, alternating between French folk songs, classical pieces, and Catholic and Anglican hymns. When he finished, and after the applause died down, he said in his French-accented English, “Now with your permission I will close the performance with a melody I composed for a beautiful woman of my acquaintance.”

  Clare sensed what he was about to play, and in the darkness the hairs stood up on her neck.

  “It is called ‘Ode to a Lovely Lady.’”

  The familiar sweet notes rose against the night and she closed her eyes. The beautiful melody captured her and transported her back to the Marie and to Dominic and the island. Even though she’d been in captivity only a few short days, those wonderful times seemed to have been very long ago.

  When the music faded away and the applause began, Clare felt a sadness wash over her, but there was happiness, too, in knowing he’d played the composition just for her. She guessed it was Tait’s and Dominic’s way of letting her know they cared. She’d needed buoying after such an emotional evening and being treated to “Ode to Clare” had helped immensely.

  The applause finally ended and was followed by Teddy’s farewell to her guests, “Thank you all for coming. Vive la France!”

  The phrase was echoed again and again by the shouting crowd, and then everyone headed to their carriages and drivers for the journey home.

&nb
sp; On the short ride back to the house, Violet said to Clare, “By the way, we’re going to Charleston in the morning and taking the early ferry, so I’ll need you to pack tonight and provide me with enough clothes for a few days. We’ll return Monday, at the latest Tuesday.”

  “I wanted to see my children on Sunday, Violet. I haven’t seem them since we sailed to England back in March.”

  “Maybe next week. Dot will be traveling with us. I wish to do some shopping and visit the slave market for an estimate on how much she may be worth. If the price is fair we’ll leave her with the owners.”

  Clare felt sorry for Dot, but focused on pressing her own case. “I would prefer to remain here and see my children, Violet.”

  “I heard you the first time, Clare, but did you hear me?”

  When Clare didn’t respond, Violet asked again, “Did you?”

  Clare responded tightly, “Yes.”

  “I thought you had.”

  While Teddy stood on the porch saying good night to the last of her guests, Dominic waited for her to step back inside so that he could thank her for the invitation and then make his own departure.

  The news that Clare might be carrying his child filled his heart, and Violet’s stated plan to put his progeny on the block made him want to strangle her on the spot, but he put her out of his mind and mused on Clare. Had they really created a child? Would he be holding a tiny baby girl or boy in his arms sometime in the near future? The prospect was thrilling and humbling. That neither of his parents was alive to help welcome their grandchild to the world sobered him a bit. Were they here, he knew they’d be pleased not only with the child but with the mother. He’d asked Tait to play Clare’s signature tune as a token of his love and to let her know that she was supported and surrounded by those who loved her as well.

  Teddy walked through the doors on the heels of that thought, and for a moment she simply studied him with an enigmatic smile. “Thank you for your attendance this evening, Captain.”

  “It’s been my pleasure.”

  “Do things usually turn out the way you plan them?”

  “Most times.”

  “They don’t for me.”

  Since he had no way of knowing where this might be headed, he went ahead and took the bait. “What do you mean?”

  “I think very highly of Clare. I made my niece and nephew an offer for her last fall.”

  “Which they refused, I assume, since she is still with them.”

  “Yes, but rumor has it that Victor is going under. He’ll need to start selling things, and frankly she’s the most valuable thing they own.”

  “Why reveal this to me?”

  “In case you decide to take an interest in the child she may be bearing, you’ll need to know her fate.”

  “My lack of feelings for Clare notwithstanding, no child of mine will be placed on the auction block.”

  “Victor might accept an offer from you.”

  Admittedly, it was an avenue Dominic had toyed with. “Then maybe I will take up the subject with him.”

  She nodded. “Good night, Captain.”

  He bowed and made move to leave, but before he could step out, she added, “And Captain, may the love that binds you and Clare be strong forever.”

  He stiffened and turned, but she was climbing the stairs and did not look back.

  Chapter 14

  C

  lare, Violet, and Dot arrived at the dock before dawn to catch the early ferry for Charleston. Because the place to board the small boat was at the far end of the dock, and away from where the larger craft were moored, she couldn’t see Dominic’s sloop. She needed to alert him that because she was going to Charleston the rescue would have to be delayed another week, but she had not means to do so. When it became time to depart their trunks were loaded and Violet took a seat up front, while Clare and Dot stood in the rear with the rest of the slaves.

  Because of all the stops along the way to pick up other passengers, the ferry ride up the coast to Charleston got them to the city’s docks a bit past midday. The weather was overcast and a bit windy, but only a hurricane would stop Violet from shopping, so they stepped off the ferry and waited for their luggage to be unloaded. Once that was done, Clare walked over to the cabs lined up for hire and made the arrangements to be driven into the city proper.

  Violet had the cabdriver stop first at the boardinghouse she always stayed in when in the city, and after securing a room for herself and a place for Clare and Dot in the servant quarters out back, had him drive on to the small, exclusive dressmaker’s shop she loved to frequent. Clare was still angry over not being able to see her children, but had no recourse but to go along.

  Inside, the shop owner greeted Violet a bit coolly. “Miss Sullivan. How are you?”

  “I’m well, Miss Dexter, and you?” Without bothering to wait for a reply, Violet passed the woman by and went over to view the ready-made gowns on the dress forms. “This is very lovely,” she said, gently flaring the skirt of a brown sateen gown. “How long would it take for this to be fitted and sewn?”

  “Less than a week for my clients with accounts that are not in arrears.”

  Violet turned.

  Miss Dexter said plainly, “You have yet to send payment on the gowns you received last fall, Miss Sullivan, or the one delivered this past February. You assured me at the time that the matter would be resolved. Am I to assume that you are here to take care of the outstanding debt?”

  Miss Dexter was known not only for her dressmaking but for being genteel and polite, so for her to publicly shame Violet this way in front of the other patrons milling about the shop spoke to how seriously she was taking the matter of Violet’s unpaid bill.

  Clare could tell by the tight set of Violet’s jaw and her red face that she had not been prepared to have her dirty laundry aired for all to hear. Violet considered herself to be a wealthy pillar of society even if, in reality, that was no longer the case.

  She trilled, “My brother must have forgotten. I will give him a piece of my mind on your behalf, I assure you, and you will receive the overdue funds by month’s end. Now, as for this gown—”

  But Miss Dexter cut her off. “I won’t be offering you any further service until your bill is paid, Miss Sullivan. I run a business, not an almshouse.”

  Violet turned scarlet this time, and huffed with offense. “Well, I’ll be sure to patronize someone else in the future. Come, Clare. Come, Dot,” she snapped icily.

  Clare and Dot followed her to the door, and as they exited and stepped out onto the street were nearly bowled over by a fair-skinned man and woman passing by. As both parties recovered, Clare froze upon recognizing them. The woman’s eyes widened as she recognized Clare also.

  A cold smile came across Sylvie’s face. “Well, if it isn’t our dear Clare. Is this your mistress?”

  Violet scanned Sylvie up and down. “I am Violet Sullivan. And you are?”

  “A former acquaintance of Clare and her lover LeVeq. Did he finally tire of you, little Clare?”

  Violet turned to Clare, “LeVeq? Who is LeVeq!”

  Clare’s heart was racing. She saw a light of interest flare in the eyes of the man with Sylvie. She recognized him, too. It was Dominic and Gaspar’s nemesis, Paul Vanweldt.

  Sylvie answered helpfully, “Why, he’s the privateer who stole her from her mistress, if the rumors are true.”

  “She was stolen from me, but by a man named deMille. He’s in Savannah now.”

  Sylvie threw back her head and laughed. “It’s an alias he’s used in the past. You say he’s in Savannah now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “He returned Clare and is there selling smuggled goods. He said he’d tired of her.”

  Sylvie shook her head. “I doubt that to be truth, Miss Sullivan. He was very much smitten with your slave, and she with him. He wouldn’t have returned her to you willingly. If he is still in Savannah he is there for a reason that is undoub
tedly tied to her.”

  Violet turned to Clare. “Is this true? You are lovers!”

  Clare didn’t respond.

  She grabbed Clare’s arm, nails digging into the skin, “Answer me!” She slapped her. “Answer me, whore!”

  Clare’s hand flew to her burning cheek.

  “Why is he still here!” Violet demanded.

  Violet appeared to have an epiphany and stared at Clare with wide eyes. “It’s those cubs of yours, isn’t it. You came back for them! That’s why he hasn’t sailed! After all my family has done for you!”

  She hauled off to slap her again, and Clare blocked the blow and pushed her back. Violet fell. “You struck me? I will sell you, right this minute, you lying whore!”

  People were stopping to watch the spectacle along the traffic-heavy thoroughfare.

  Vanweldt helped Violet to her feet and said kindly, “Mistress, if you mean what you say, I may be able to assist you. I am a trafficker. I hate LeVeq as much as I am sure you do now. I can arrange for the sale of this traitorous slave to a party in Martinique who would be overjoyed to gain custody of someone LeVeq cares for. In fact, I can pay you good coin for her now, and be reimbursed upon delivery.”

  Clare’s whole world began to shake. “No!” she cried out in angry disbelief. “Violet!”

  “Silence! How much!”

  He whispered a sum into Violet’s ear and she responded with wide eyes. “So much?”

  “No, Violet! Don’t do this!”

  Vanweldt took a small bag from his pocket and gave it to Violet, and then clamped an iron hold on Clare’s wrist while Sylvie looked on, pleased.

 

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