Horses’ legs, like humans’, will swell if they stand for hours. Horses and humans are built to move.
“DoRe, what do you think of the work cart Jeffrey purchased?”
“A wise buy. We won’t need to be constantly fixing it.”
“My darling, I can sell more carts and wagons than I can coach and fours. This adds, um, faster income. The coaches take longer to fashion, which means longer to receive as due.”
Shrewd about money, Maureen probed. “Who will you take off the coach building?”
“Only Mason to work with and train two younger men. The underpinnings will take the most skill.”
“How quickly can you produce such a vehicle once the men are trained?”
“Three weeks.” He held up his hands. “Given the equipment we have, maybe two weeks. The painting will add a bit of time but it’s the axles and wheels that matter. Of course that is critical, important for the coach and fours, but think of how intricate and elegant those coaches are. The windows alone add a big bump to the cost. And people want a coach in their colors. Even down to pinstripes on the wheels.”
She nodded in agreement. “You get what you pay for and you, husband, really are an artist. Sublime work.” She kissed him on the cheek, satisfied with the explanation.
“As long as you are pleased.”
DoRe had many chores to finish but he couldn’t just walk away. He caught Jeffrey’s eye, raising his eyebrows. Before he could be dismissed, Maureen spoke.
“Who might you train?”
“Young Louis.” He stopped.
“Who else?”
“William. He can’t ride anymore. He can’t really work in the fields. This way he can be useful.”
“If I have to feed him, he’d better be useful.”
“My sentiments, entirely,” Jeffrey soothingly agreed.
“DoRe, is he useful to you?”
“No, Missus.”
“Where is he?”
“In the lower barn mixing bran mash.”
“Fetch him,” she commanded, then turned to her husband. “Let’s wait in the sunshine. I want to feel the warmth on my face.”
“Of course.” Jeffrey lifted a small bench from the large tack room, carrying it outside.
“Jeffrey, we have men who can do that. I do wish you would more often employ them.”
“Yes, but I don’t want you to wait until I find one. You should sit right here, face turned to the sun. Would you like me to find a footstool?”
“No, dear.”
The sight of William, dragging his one leg, next to DoRe, who also limped, from old horse injuries, made Maureen laugh.
Finally, standing before her, she looked William up and down. “Did you learn anything?”
William bowed his head, silent.
She barked, “Did you learn anything?”
“Yes, Missus.”
“My husband is willing to have you taught how to build carts. Mason will be in charge. You will live at the workshop and be chained each night.”
“Yes, Missus.”
“Perhaps in a year or two, with good behavior, you can sleep unchained. I’ll be decent. In the carriage shop you need only be chained by the ankle. One false move and your hands will be chained to a beam. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Missus.”
“What else?” Her voice rose threateningly.
Head down, he replied, “Thank you, Missus.”
She tapped her small foot, encased in a lovely shoe, thinking. “William, do you know where my pearl and diamond necklace and earrings might be? Did you steal them?”
William’s head shot up, eyes wide with fear, for he had heard from DoRe what happened to Elizabetta. No one else would talk to him. William was utterly distrusted and despised.
“No, Missus. No.”
Jeffrey quietly affirmed, “Dearest, if he had that exquisite necklace and earrings, he would have gotten a lot farther, although I grant you his disappearance so close to Sheba’s raises questions.”
Maureen now tapped her other foot.
“William, my husband, who is far too kind, will supervise you at the shop.” She turned to Jeffrey, sitting next to her. “When do you want him there?”
“Now would do nicely.” Jeffrey stood up.
Maureen did not stop him as this exchange further provoked her. “On your way, send Sulli to me at the house.”
He stopped for a moment, then smiled. “Of course. You know, I long to find that necklace and those earrings. You looked so radiant wearing them”—he paused one short beat—“although no jewelry can ever do you justice.”
Then he left as DoRe returned to the driving horses. Jeffrey, along with William dragging his leg, headed toward the shop.
DoRe, halter over Barney, walked the big boy out to his paddock. He thought Jeffrey Holloway sang for his supper daily. He thanked God for a good woman who loved him. Slave he was and always would be, but he had more than his master. He had the love of Bettina.
“Barney, life is confusing.” He patted the fine animal, slipped off the halter, and watched him run and kick, happy to be out of that confining stall.
Back in the big house, Maureen told Elizabetta to expect Sulli.
Within five minutes Sulli was let in the back door. Elizabetta said not a word but led her to Maureen, sitting on the porch, flooded with sunlight.
“Elizabetta, stay here. You should hear this.” Maureen turned her luminous eyes, one of her best features, to Sulli. “Have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes, Missus,” Sulli quickly responded, bowing her head like William.
“Do you know where my necklace and earrings are?” She had no need to explain.
By this time most of Virginia knew the story.
“No, Missus.”
“But you knew Sheba?”
“Yes, Missus, but she was far above me, working in the house.”
“Yet you, Sheba, and William ran off not far apart in time.”
It was far apart in time, for Sheba disappeared in 1786, October. However, no one, including her husband, would point that out to her. Maureen did not take well to correction in any form.
“Missus, Sheba would have nothing to do with me. She never spoke to me.”
“H-m-m. Never?”
“No, Missus. I was far beneath her.”
“But you knew when she ran off.”
“Yes, Missus.”
“And you knew she stole a necklace and earrings of great value.”
“Yes, Missus.”
“Do you think William knows where Sheba is or where the necklace might be? After all, you two stole from me.”
“Yes, Missus. I was wrong to do that. I was wrong to listen to William.”
Maureen was enjoying this, as was Elizabetta.
“Tell me, Sulli, what did William promise that could turn you into a thief and a fool?”
Sulli took a deep breath, lifted her head. “He told me he loved me. He told me we would be free and make lots of money.”
“And you believed that?”
“Yes, Missus. I most particularly believed he loved me.”
“You aren’t the first woman to be misled by a sweet talker, but you knew right from wrong. ‘Thou shalt not steal,’ ” Maureen said. Then she called out. “Kintzie, come in here.”
Kintzie, the herbalist and healer, walked in.
The woman exuded a natural dignity and kindness.
“Yes, Missus.”
“Help Elizabetta show her back.”
Kintzie did as asked, sliding the sleeves down. Elizabetta turned her back to Sulli, whose reaction was a slight narrowing of her eyes.
Maureen waved her hand. Kintzie helped Elizabetta with her top.
“Sulli, El
izabetta’s negligence allowed you and William to steal the pin money out of the kitchen plus a small necklace. She has paid for it. How should I punish you?”
Sulli kept her mouth shut.
Maureen stood up, slapped her hard across the face. “If you ever do anything like that again, if you ever steal from me, if you know where Sheba is and I find out you know, I will do worse. Far worse. Do you understand?”
Sulli nodded.
Maureen slapped her again. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Missus.”
“Get out of my sight.”
As they left, the last rays of the sun shone on the meadows. Maureen would kill to find her necklace, but who to kill?
33
January 26, 1788
Saturday
“How much longer do you think this will last?” Barker O asked DoRe.
“Day or two. I never let my defenses down.” DoRe watched Penny turned out with a few old mares in a field at Cloverfields.
“U-m-m. That mare has good cannon bone. Why doesn’t Mrs. Selisse want her?”
“She’s not elegant enough. Her comment was she’s not riding a horse that should pull a plow.”
Barker O shook his head. “Jeddie!”
“Yes, sir.” Jeddie, who was in the field, trotted to the fence.
“Go find Miss Catherine. Ask her if she has time to look at a horse.”
“Yes, sir.” Jeddie, one hand on the top board, vaulted over the fence in one smooth motion.
Barker O looked at DoRe. “Remember doing that?”
“I do.” DoRe shook his head.
The two friends, driving competitors, leaned on the fence, caught up, talked of their favorite subject, horses.
Shortly, Catherine, a light shawl over her shoulders, joined them, as did Tulli, the little fellow, closing in on his twelfth birthday but looking younger. He kept his mouth shut, as all youngsters should around the adults.
“DoRe, feels like spring,” Catherine said.
He grinned. “Does.”
“What have you?”
DoRe pointed to Penny, contentedly grazing. “Mr. Holloway bought a cart. Penny came with it. Mrs. Selisse Holloway”—he cleared his throat, couldn’t get used to calling her Holloway—“thinks she looks too common.”
Catherine, half-smiling, studied the gentle girl. “Tulli, hop on. Jeddie, help him up.”
“I can do it.” The little fellow rushed out, guided the mare to the fence, climbed up, and slid on while Penny remained still.
“I can see that.” Catherine smiled.
Jeddie, just in case, had moved to the other side of the mare.
“I can make her canter.” Tulli smiled.
“That won’t be necessary, plus you don’t have a bridle.”
“I can do anything.” He puffed out his scrawny chest while Jeddie shook his head.
“All I want you to do is walk the fence line, come back, walk away from me, turn, walk toward me. Walk, Tulli.”
“Yes, Miss Catherine.”
Observing the mare’s stride, Catherine said, “DoRe, she’s good off the shoulder. I don’t see any major flaw. Do you?”
“No. She’ll cover ground. She’s kind.”
“Yes.” Catherine agreed. “DoRe, what does your esteemed mistress want for her?” She drug in “esteemed.”
“She didn’t say. She just said she doesn’t want to feed a horse who doesn’t meet the Rawly standards.”
“Ah—yes. Jeddie, go up to the house. Tell Father I want forty dollars plus ten.”
“Yes, Miss Catherine.”
Tulli ran along with Jeddie, who told him to hurry up. Tulli never wanted to miss anything, so while he tried to keep up with the long-legged nineteen-year-old, he blabbed the entire time.
“If you shut up, you’ll run faster.” Jeddie picked up the pace to torment Tulli.
As the three adults waited, DoRe told them about Sulli and William.
“No sign of Ralston?” Barker O inquired.
“No one said anything. William’s had his hamstring cut. The girl is put with the simpleminded. The men who caught them drove a cart that the Master wanted to study. That’s how we came by this mare.”
A deep breath, then Catherine, voice low, remarked, “I expect William and Sulli’s lives will be unremitting agony.”
DoRe nodded. “The Missus, well, you know.”
“I think I do. Ah, that was quick.”
Jeddie, breathing more heavily than Tulli, handed her the money.
“For the mare.” She then gave DoRe ten dollars. “For coming to me first. Penny will be good for John.” She named her son, who was coming onto three.
“He’s growing, growing, growing. He’ll soon outgrow his pony.” She reached over to pat the mare standing by the fence, seemingly interested in the conversation. “Penny will solve that problem. Thank you, DoRe. By the way, I’ll go write Maureen a letter thanking her, of course, which will give you time to visit Bettina.”
A broad grin revealed his feeling. “Yes, Miss Catherine.”
“She’s in the kitchen. Go in.”
For a man with a limp, he moved fast up toward the house.
Turning to Barker O, a tall man, Catherine remarked, “Sooner or later, I, too, will limp. All horsemen do.”
Barker O smiled. “Not you.”
Jeddie and Tulli listened. Then Tulli piped up. “What about Sweet Potato?”
Barker O gave him a stern look. “What’s the matter with you, boy? You don’t go asking the Missus or any of us questions.”
He hung his head.
“You will ride Sweet Potato and keep John company.”
“Oh, yes, Miss Catherine.” He was thrilled.
“Jeddie, you’ll wind up watching both of them.”
“I’ll do my best.”
As they watched Penny, two old retired “girls” came over. Everyone visited.
DoRe no sooner stuck his head in the kitchen than Bettina hugged and kissed him, putting a moist slice of pound cake in front of him.
“Fresh.”
“Great day.” He took a bite. “Where’s Serena?”
He named her assistant.
“Back pantry.”
He then told her everything about William, Sulli, the slave catchers, and Maureen’s chaining William.
“William was a fool. He’ll probably always be a fool, but I hate to see a man chained by the wrists. He’s been moved to the carriage workshop. Heard now it’s only one leg.”
“Given that he stole a horse, beat Jeddie with his crop after pushing him off, and ran off, then came back to steal more, he’s lucky to be alive.”
“If you call what he’ll be facing for the rest of his days life.” He polished off that pound cake. “Missus Selisse has never been a merciful woman.”
“That’s a nice way to put it.”
DoRe shrugged. “Bettina, if she were a horse, I’d say she broke bad. This all goes back to Sheba and the jewelry.”
Satisfied with the fire level, Bettina sat opposite the man she loved. “You would know better than any of us.”
A flash of fear, quickly conquered, coursed through him. “Why do you say that?”
“You’ve lived at Big Rawly all your life. You’ve known Sheba’s mother, her two crazy brothers, and Sheba. And you all knew Sheba when the Mistress wasn’t around.”
“She was worse than the Missus.” He exhaled loudly.
“She fooled everyone. She escaped with a fortune.”
“Maybe,” he said noncommittedly.
Bettina, eyes narrowed slightly, said not a word, but she realized for the first time that DoRe knew a lot more than he was telling.
34
July 1, 2019
Monday
Finally, Harry focused on what was bothering her.
“Jeannie Cordle’s death at the AHIP fundraiser. You kindly explained to us, as did the medical people, about the Solanaceae family. How easy would it have been to make, distill, crush, whatever, a lethal dose?”
“Pretty easy. There are three thousand members of this particular family. Potatoes, eggplants, tomatoes, and the killer ones, like deadly nightshade. Lots of choices.”
“Is there any other way she could have been poisoned? The sheriff’s department focused on the obvious method, ingestion, but no one else’s food had been contaminated. And there would have been no way to guarantee that only her plate was touched. Sheriff Shaw said they thoroughly questioned the waitstaff.”
“To be poisoned by one of these plants, it has to enter your system. Your digestive system. For instance, Hindu Datura, the common name, was used as knockout drops to snag virgins into prostitution, especially in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. And in answer to your question about formulating a lethal dose, if you know what you’re doing, it’s time-consuming but fairly simple.”
“Could Jeannie have drunk it?”
“It would have shown up on the glass. Since she died at the fundraiser, I am sure everything was closely scrutinized. Or at least everything from her table.”
“What about putting the dose on someone as a cream?” Harry wondered.
“The skin would react quickly. And to administer a lethal dose, I’d think you’d need a trowel to apply it. That I don’t know. Perhaps a toxicologist would or even a general practitioner.”
Harry, leaning back in her chair, watched the line at the driving range for a moment. “And this poison would have to have entered her system at the party?”
“Given the speed with which she presented her symptoms, yes. For instance, in murder the spouse is always the prime suspect. Frank, if he had wanted to kill her and had given her, say, drops or some food laced with the stuff, he would never have gotten her to Castle Hill. Not that I for an instant think he did it. If he tampered with her food or drink at Castle Hill, someone would have seen him.”
Harry shook her head. “She was the easiest person to get along with, helpful, fun. Just makes no sense. Of course, Frank didn’t kill her. No sense at all.”
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