Through the Storm

by Beverly Jenkins

  Juliana nodded, then stepped in further. “He has his own apartments across town now. I doubt he’ll mind if you stay here.”

  Sable looked at the woman who wanted to be her mother-in-law and asked, “Juliana LeVeq, what are you about?”

  Juliana pointed to herself. “Me? Absolutely nothing. I just want you to be comfortable while you’re here.”

  Sable didn’t believe her for a moment.

  As Sable walked over to see the view from the open doors, Juliana said, “The Brats are coming to dinner tonight. Will you join us?”

  “Juliana, I don’t wish to impose while I’m here.”

  “Nonsense. Join us. Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  She sailed out, leaving Sable to settle into her new room.

  That evening, Sable enjoyed a lively dinner with Juliana and the Brats. Once the meal was finished, Juliana ushered everyone into the parlor, saying, “There’s something I wish to discuss.”

  Since the lack of furniture made seating limited, Sable settled on one of the two chairs while the Brats stood.

  Juliana looked around at the faces of her sons, then at Sable, before announcing, “I’ve invited Elizabeth to marry into our family.”

  Shocked, Sable remained speechless, but the LeVeq brothers immediately broke into a jubilant celebration, elbowing one another and patting one another on the back.

  Beau asked confidently, “Which one of us is it going to be?”

  “Yes,” Phillipe added eagerly. “Which one has Elizabeth decided upon?”

  “None of you,” Juliana replied.

  “What?” they all shouted in unison.

  “What do you mean, none of us?” Beau exclaimed.

  “Just what I said. None of you. I’ve asked Elizabeth to wed Raimond.”

  “What?” they shouted again.

  “With all due respect, Mother,” Archer stated, “have you lost your mind? He hasn’t a faithful bone in his body.”

  “Hear hear,” Drake chimed in.

  Soon the room was filled with the din of four brothers explaining why Raimond didn’t deserve to marry the lovely Elizabeth, most having to do with his lack of fidelity and his well-documented apetite for beautiful women.

  “I am aware of Raimond’s past, but he loves her,” Juliana explained simply.

  Silence.

  “That isn’t possible,” Phillipe finally said, his voice cracking.

  The Brats turned to Sable, as if seeking an explanation, but she was still staring at Juliana as if Mrs. LeVeq had indeed lost her mind. “Juliana, why would you fabricate such a falsehood?” she exclaimed.

  “It isn’t a falsehood, my dear. Raimond does love you.”

  Sable’s eyes widened. That isn’t possible, she told herself.

  Archer stated confusedly, “But they’ve never met. How can he be in love with her?”

  “They met during the war.”

  Then the brothers understood, and each responded with a few audible sighs of resignation.

  “Why does he always get the prize?” Drake complained. “Next time, I want to be the firstborn.”

  The others laughed.

  Sable still couldn’t believe Juliana was continuing to pursue this futile quest. “Raimond is not going to want to marry me, Juliana. I explained that.”

  “I listened to your explanation, but I believe the two of you can get past your differences and be happy.”

  “Raimond in love,” Drake drawled. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Neither do I,” chimed in Archer. “Are you certain, Mama?”

  She nodded. “A mother knows.”

  Sable still needed a lot more convincing. She knew Raimond had harbored some tender feelings for her back at the camp, but love? Juliana must be mistaken.

  Juliana went on. “Since your brother has left it to me to find him a wife, I choose Sable.”

  “Who’s Sable?” asked Beau.

  “I am,” Sable confessed sheepishly. She’d told so many half-truths these past few months, she wouldn’t blame them if they showed her the door and demanded she never return. “My real name is Sable Fontaine.”

  She then told them the story of how she’d met Raimond and the circumstances that had prompted the theft.

  Drake said, “Let me get this straight. You stole Raimond’s purse, and now Mother wants the two of you to marry?”

  Archer added confidently, “I think you’re investing in a losing propostition, Mama.”

  “I don’t,” Juliana replied.

  Still confused, Sable asked, “But why me, Juliana? Surely one of the daughters of your friends would make a more suitable wife. I’m a freed woman.”

  “I know that, dear, and I also know you have spirit and determination. You’re the type of woman I envision my Raimond marrying, not some addle-brained child who’ll spend her day shopping and visiting the hairdresser. Raimond needs someone who will give as good as she gets, and not be put off by his challenging ways. And he loves you. What more can a mother-in-law ask?”

  “You keep saying that,” Beau pointed out, “but what will His Highness do when Elizabeth—I’m sorry, Sable—walks down the aisle and he realizes who she is?”

  “Probably kill us all,” Phillipe threw in knowingly. “Or maybe he won’t since we’ll be in church.”

  “I say we hide her until the morning of the wedding,” Archer said. “I want to see the surprise on his face.”

  “I say we don’t,” Sable countered. “I will not marry your brother without his knowing that I’m the candidate.”

  Juliana smiled. “You’ve agreed then?”

  Caught momentarily off guard, Sable stammered, “Well, no. I—I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  “Say yes,” Juliana implored.

  Sable knew she had to be insane to do this, but she’d been moved by Juliana’s words. Although Mrs. LeVeq had never gone into detail, Sable knew how desperately the family needed Raimond to marry so they could begin using the inheritance to repair their lives. They needed her. And in reality, she needed them. The idea of having a family tempted her mightily. By agreeing to Juliana’s proposal, Sable would instantly acquire four charming brothers, a mother-in-law she adored, and a whole passel of relatives residing both here and abroad. Moreover, she’d gain a home, something she’d never had before. She looked around at the four young men who’d treated her so gallantly since her arrival. The last thing she wanted was her marriage to their brother to jeopardize their friendship.

  “If I do marry Raimond, will we remain friends?”

  At first no one replied, then Drake drawled, “We should torture her, you know.”

  “You’re right,” Archer agreed. “Make her wait a week before we give our blessing.”

  But both men had smiles on their handsome faces, as did everyone else in the room.

  Juliana had the widest smile of all. “So do you agree?”

  Sable nodded. “If Raimond will have me, I agree.”

  But she didn’t believe he would.

  The next evening Sable paced the floor of the salon. Her stomach was in knots and she felt a headache coming on. In a few minutes Raimond would walk through the door, and they would confront each other for the first time since the camp. She did not expect the meeting to go smoothly. In fact, she doubted he would stay for more than a few seconds upon finding her there. He’d probably denounce her and angrily declare his opposition to her as his mother’s choice for a bride.

  So Sable was bracing herself for the worst; she didn’t believe he would agree to be her husband under any conditions.

  She stopped pacing when she heard the door handle being turned. The sound seemed to echo loudly in the nearly empty room. Juliana entered and Sable relaxed at the sight of her kind face, but the tension returned as Juliana said, “He’ll be right in. Are you ready?”

  “No,” Sable stated truthfully.

  “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

  Juliana stepped out of the doorway, and Sable h
eard her call to him.

  Raimond LeVeq, dressed in a well-tailored suit, entered the room. He was as tall and as handsome as he’d ever been, and Sable’s knees weakened for just a moment.

  Their eyes met. His widened and then blazed with anger. “What the hell is she doing here?”

  Juliana ignored the question, saying instead, “Sable Fontaine, my son Raimond. I believe the two of you know each other. Say hello, Sable.”

  “Hello, Major.”

  Raimond had never thought to hear those words from her lips ever again. A boiling cauldron of warring emotions filled him as he took in the green eyes and the golden face that had plagued his dreams. He wanted to rail at her even as he longed to pull her into his arms, but he held himself in check, viewing her coldly. “Miss Fontaine. Once again, what is she doing here?”

  Juliana replied, “Raimond, you may vent your wrath on me later, but the two of you have unsettled business.”

  Looking into his wintry eyes, Sable sensed she’d been right; he’d never agree to their marriage, and as a consequence, she sought to bring this reunion to a close as quickly and as painlessly as possible. “Your mother wants us to marry.”

  Raimond turned a curious eye on Juliana standing by the door. “Is that correct?”

  Juliana nodded. “Yes, she is my choice.”

  In a voice as cold as his eyes, he looked down at Sable and said, “Then you shall have your wish.”

  Sable gasped in surprise and consternation.

  “Leave us, Mother, if you please.”

  Sable beat down the panic she felt as Juliana complied, leaving them alone.

  As silence resettled over the room, Sable wanted to run. She wanted to hike up her skirts and flee as fast as her legs would carry her, but she stood, chin raised, like a queen poised for battle.

  He began, “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “I did leave abruptly.”

  His smile did not reach his eyes. “‘Abruptly’ is an apropos way to describe it, I suppose. Where’d you go?”

  “North—with Bridget and Randolph Baker.”

  “Is he the one who hit me over the head?”

  Consumed with guilt, she whispered, “Yes.”

  Raimond could not believe it. The betraying beauty whose traitorous kisses had haunted him since the night she’d left was being presented to him like a gift on Christmas morning. “Does my mother know about your past?”

  “She knows I’m a contraband.”

  “Does she know you’re also a thief?”

  Sable flinched at the harsh description. “Yes, I told her the truth.”

  “The real truth or your truth?”

  Sable knew he had reason to be angry, but she didn’t care for his contempt. “They are the same,” came her tight response.

  His mocking eyes told her he didn’t believe a word.

  His attitude made her wonder whether he would change his mind even if he did learn why she’d stolen his money. The man whose kisses had inflamed her during those warm Georgia nights did not seem to exist any longer. She pushed aside that small sadness and asked, “So, will you turn me over to the authorities for theft?”

  “No, but I do want to know how you managed to wheedle your way into my family’s good graces.”

  “I did not wheedle,” she replied tartly, then as patiently as possible, she told him how she’d met Verena Jackson in Boston and eventually come to New Orleans. “I met your mother quite by accident.”

  His manner did not change, making it impossible to tell what he thought about the tale, but Sable decided his opinion didn’t much matter to her. “I’d like to pay you back as much as I can. I have a small cache of coins I’ve been saving—”

  “I don’t want them.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “What my mother has already given me. You.”

  “But you don’t wish to marry me.”

  “No. I don’t wish to marry anyone, but you will do.”

  “You intend to punish me, then?”

  “No, I intend to take you as my wife. Once you are with child, my formal duties toward you as a husband will cease. Of course, I will provide you and the bébé with whatever you require, but you and I will lead separate lives.”

  “It sounds very bleak.”

  “For you it undoubtedly will be.”

  She found his manner so arrogant and insulting, she was tempted to marry him out of spite. “Then why wed at all?” she asked.

  “Because my mother has sacrificed enough. The war has destroyed her way of life and taken the life of her second son. I’d marry Medusa herself if it would make her happy.”

  Sable observed him closely. Only a fool would believe marriage to him could evolve into a love match, but she had hoped for companionship and, yes, affection, given time to work out the problems between them. Now, according to Raimond, there would be neither. Common sense told her that regardless of their personal difficulties, the life he’d pledged to provide for her and her babies would far surpass the alternative of having to scratch out an existence in the streets. So why was she so despondent? The answer lay in her heart; she’d fallen in love with him during those warm Georgia nights, and in spite of everything, she loved him still.

  “So, knowing how I stand, are you still willing?” he asked.

  Sable’s chin rose. “Yes. Your mother has been very kind to me. Like you, I would marry the devil himself to make her happy.”

  “Then we have an agreement.”

  “Yes.”

  A few nights later, moving with careful control, Sable removed her expensive gloves and borrowed jewelry and placed them onto the small vanity table. She had never been so angry.

  Tonight had been a disaster. Juliana had invited a small group of friends and family to an engagement party to celebrate the upcoming nuptials. Everyone had shown up—except the groom. He’d sent a note around to his mother at the end of the evening expressing his regrets. There’d been no explanation, just his apology. Juliana had vowed to kill him on sight.

  Sable took off her beautiful dress and draped it over a chair. Had he humiliated her intentionally? Had he purposely left her open to the gossip and veiled innuendos flying all over town? Did he know that there were already more than a few women who’d come up to her in the markets and shops and announced to her face that she had no business marrying into the house of LeVeq? His absence tonight would only add fuel to the fire.

  Sable plopped down onto her bed. Thank heavens for her new brothers. They’d danced with her, fetched her refreshments, and generally helped her meet each new guest with a smile. She’d heard more than one man promise to bring her Raimond’s head on a platter for making her endure such a humiliating evening, and right now she wanted not only his head, but both arms as well.

  Mounted on Pegasus, Raimond held up his hand and the other mounted men in his small party came to a halt. The plantation they’d come to visit lay up ahead. The owner, undoubtedly asleep at this late hour, had been stealing Black children for weeks and making them work his land. Although the parents had been begging the Freedmen’s Bureau to intervene, neither the agents nor the army had seemed inclined to get involved. When Raimond was finally able to bring the matter to the attention of a captain who seemed to care, he’d lacked the authority to send in troops. Angry over the official lack of concern and faced with no alternative, Raimond had mustered up his own troops for the purpose. All were Civil War veterans, and all were committed to making certain the freedoms won by the war were not denied to those who’d been freed.

  “All right,” Raimond said quietly. “Three of us will take the front. You two enter through the back. Make certain you’re masked.”

  Following Raimond’s lead, the five men placed black hoods over their heads and rode slowly toward the large, dilapidated plantation house. Masking their identities was essential if they wanted to save themselves and their families from retribution.

  They had no trouble entering the place.
There were at least fifteen children of varying ages asleep on the floor of the front room. Raimond and his men stepped quietly over them, not wanting to awaken them until matters with the owner were settled.

  The owner, a pale, portly man named Dillard Huckleby, lay asleep in his bed. Raimond firmly placed the business end of his rifle against Huckleby’s nose and barked, “Wake up, Huckleby!”

  The man roused as one of Raimond’s companions lit a lamp. Huckleby’s eyes widened in panic upon viewing the masked intruders. “All of my gold’s in the bank,” he volunteered hastily. “I’ve nothing valuable here in the house, I swear.”

  “We’re not here for money,” Raimond said. “Tell me about those children sleeping on the floor in your front room.”

  Huckleby began to sweat. “Uh, they work for me. They’re orphans, for the most part. Law says they have to work.”

  And indeed it did. In an effort to control the freedmen and their movements, some communities had passed statutes making it illegal for any freedman to be unemployed. Many of the jobless were being forced to sign work contracts with their former masters that bound them to their employer for life. Children, a prime source of cheap labor, were being kidnapped from the streets with frightening regularity.

  “We’re here to take the children back to their parents.”

  “You can’t do that! I’ve got papers for them—legal papers—that they all read and signed.”

  “Did they now?” Raimond asked skeptically.

  “Yes,” Huckleby vowed.

  “I don’t believe you. I’m guessing there isn’t a child out there that can read more than his name, if that. If it wouldn’t be a waste of cartridges I’d shoot you right here for all the grief you’ve put their parents through.”

  Still pressing the gun against Huckleby’s bulbous nose, Raimond instructed his friends to start waking the children.

  As they departed, Huckleby snapped, “You can’t do this! Them pickaninnies are mine! I’ll have the authorities on you!”

  “Only if I leave you alive.”

  Huckleby’s eyes widened, and sweat dripped down his face.