by Becky Lower
Blanche looked up at the window to David’s room one more time. If he and Heather had the same feelings for each other that she and Robbie did, Blanche would not come between them. She would give Susan back her chips. She sighed, brushed away a tear and turned to leave Bellewood, the home she loved and hoped someday to live in. She loved Robbie more than she loved Bellewood. She had nothing left to give David.
Chapter 23
By the end of the week, Heather had four students at her nightly sessions. Jericho was exceedingly bright. He had the entire alphabet memorized already, and was moving on to writing his full name. The others were a young woman about Heather’s age, and two young girls who were Jericho’s playmates.
Heather didn’t ask about the other slaves and their reluctance to attend her sessions. She figured they’d come around if and when they were comfortable. For now, she was content with just the four pupils. She and Colleen had planned an arrangement for hiding the students or assisting them in escaping out the back of the cottage, should the need arise, so Heather had done what she could to protect these brave people who came to her door nightly, desperate for an education. She was aware of the notion southerners held that slaves didn’t have the mental capacity for knowledge and complex thoughts, but she had nightly proof to the contrary, and she took comfort in knowing she was helping these people, in her own small way, to a better life.
As her pupils took their leave for the evening, Heather’s state of excitement revved up. David would be here soon, for his much-anticipated nightly visit. Since her first evening in the cottage, David had expanded her sexual knowledge a bit more each night, showing her ways of making love without actual penetration. His busy fingers and his mouth kept her in a constant state of arousal while he was beside her. After he left, she found she could accomplish almost the same state of arousal by just thinking about him and what delights of the flesh he had introduced her to during the evening. She eagerly waited for the knock on the door, and her body responded as she thought about his upcoming visit.
When David finally rapped on the doorway, it was much later than usual, and Heather’s emotional state was close to a frazzle with anticipation. She was surprised at the gush of dampness between her legs when finally the knock came at the door. He swept in and wrapped his arms around her in a passionate embrace, stealing her breath. He broke from her kiss, and rested his chin on the top of her head. She could already feel his hard shaft against her abdomen and smiled at her ability to arouse him so completely with a mere embrace.
“I apologize for the lateness of my arrival, darling, but I was in the midst of another heated discussion with Simon Beaumont about buying Bellewood.”
Heather pulled back from him so she could look at his face. She thought he had looked a bit distracted when he entered. Now she understood why.
“Does Mr. Beaumont not want to purchase the land?”
“I think Simon is doing his daughter’s bidding. Blanche and my mother still think I’m going to acquiesce to their wishes, break off my engagement to you and send you back to New York. They want to keep me here in Georgia until they accomplish their mission, and they think my not being able to sell Bellewood will make that happen.”
Heather led David over to the couch and they sat beside each other, holding hands.
“If I’m forced to stay here and labor on the plantation, I’ll be stuck here for years, maybe forever. Father left me with all sorts of debt to pay back, and I just don’t see how it’s possible without a major sale.”
“So what will we do now? You desperately need income right away to help pay off some of your father’s most immediate debts, don’t you? Can I help you by getting a job, maybe in one of the shops in town? Or at the schoolhouse?”
David expelled a breath and smiled at her. “Yes, I need money, and it’s sweet of you to offer to look for a job. I appreciate that you want to help. But I need far more money than you could bring home by holding a position in a store or a school of some sort. I can feel Father’s creditors breathing down my neck. There is only one solution. Another gentleman who owns a plantation about ten miles from here once expressed an interest to Father in Bellewood. I think I’ll pay him a visit soon.”
He leaned into Heather and kissed her softly. “For now, though, let’s not talk of distressing things. Tell me how your day went. Any new students in your class?”
“One more came today. Hopefully, each day more will show up. Teaching your slaves to read and write is the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done, David. And after they leave each evening, I get to spend time with you, and learn new things myself. I’m so happy here.” She reached up and tugged his face down to graze his lips.
Their kiss soon became more heated, and David ran his hand down over her bosom. “How I wish I could stroke your breasts without this fabric in between our flesh,” he said raggedly.
In response, Heather stood up and pulled him along with her. “If I’m to get undressed, I want to do so in the privacy of my bedroom. Will you join me?”
Laughing, David picked her up and strode purposefully from the living room. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 24
New York City, Mid-May 1856
Jasmine crept with caution down the staircase of her family’s townhouse. She was bored and restless, about to scream in frustration. While her foot and ankle were still wrapped in plaster, she had finally figured out a way to discard the awkward and noisy crutches that had slowed her down, and which heralded her arrival. She and Heather had always prided themselves in their ability to sneak up on people and overhear private conversations, and she had regretted losing that edge. The other thing they always had going for them was their duplicity, which they used when they wanted to play with someone. Jasmine was adept at pretending to be Heather, and vice versa. But, she recollected, that same duplicity was responsible for her breaking her ankle, and was the very reason why she remained bored, restless, and angry at having to sit out the season, which had begun with so much promise. She thought for a moment about Philippe the cobbler’s ardent kisses and sighed.
Her mother and the maid, Sally, were in the parlor right now. Jasmine noticed a lot of secret conversations between the two of them in the past couple of days, and she was desperate to find out exactly what was going on. She sat down on the steps, out of view of the parlor, but still able to hear the low conversation.
“I regret not being able to make the trip to Niagara with you and baby Titus, Sally, but without Colleen here, there’s no way I can leave Jasmine alone at this time. However, I am sure George Downing can see to your safe arrival at your destination. I’ll go talk to him about it this afternoon.”
“Yes, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, I agree it’s time for us to be moving on. Miss Jasmine is better now. Besides, I won’t breathe an easy breath ‘til we gets to Canada.”
Jasmine tilted her head to better hear the wisps of conversation emanating from the parlor. What were they talking about? Was Sally a runaway slave? And her mother knew about it and was arranging her passage to Canada? How interesting.
“We will never forget you, Ma’am, for findin’ us in that alley and Savin’ us on our first day here. Lord knows we’d be back in Georgia if the bounty hunters had caught us first, instead of you, Mr. Fitzpatrick, and Miss Heather. If my man is waiting for us in Oshawa, our first girl will be named Heather Charlotte after my two angels.”
Heather is somehow involved with this, too? More and more intriguing, Jasmine mused.
“We would be honored, I’m sure. Then, there will be two girls named Heather Whitman, since Heather will marry David as soon as is permissible.”
What? So Sally’s husband’s last name is the same as David’s? Did that mean he and Sally were David’s slaves? Come to think of it, David had been looking for a runaway when he first came here — right before Sally was hired to look after her. This was all too coincidental. She really needed to think this through. Jasmine’s forehead furrowed as she struggled to h
ear the rest of the conversation.
Charlotte Fitzpatrick laughed and her voice rose a little. “What were the odds that the slave we helped rescue was the exact same one the lieutenant was looking for during his time here in New York? And that I should ask you to occupy a position for us upstairs in the house, while he was calling on Heather downstairs? Well, it’s all sorted itself out for the best. You’re on your way to your future, and so is Heather.”
Jasmine drew in a deep breath. Now, at last, she finally had the ammunition she needed to break things off between Heather and the awful David once and for all. She could not let Heather get married before her! She would get her sister back from David’s clutches, and they’d go through next season together, as they were always meant to do, side by side. Jasmine rose to her feet and quietly retraced her steps to her room. She took paper and a fountain pen from her desk and began to write a letter to the lieutenant, revealing in great detail the reason he was unable to locate his missing slave, and of Heather’s involvement in the cover-up.
Chapter 25
Savannah, Georgia, Late-May 1856
The midday sun beat down on the backs of the Negroes laboring in the field. David worked alongside them, doing what he could to help tend to the acres of tobacco. He needed to do everything possible to make his crops plentiful this season, since, if he couldn’t sell the plantation before the crops were harvested, the money from the sale of a healthy tobacco and cotton harvest would keep the plantation afloat for several more months while he figured out what in God’s name to do with the pile of debt his father left behind.
He wiped the sweat from his brow as he took a break and walked in the door of the overseer’s cottage. He already considered himself married, in his mind, to Heather, and took great satisfaction in the idea of coming in from the field every afternoon to share lunch with her. Heather ran to him and wrapped an arm around his damp body, offering him a refreshing, cool glass of sweetened ice tea. He held the glass to his brow and let its chill remove some of the residual heat from him. He kissed Heather with great gusto, smiled at Colleen, and sat at the table, already stacked high with food.
Heather took her place at the table across from him. “I’m so glad you have begun to have lunch with me every day. It gives me something to look forward to.” She blushed and lowered her eyes. “I mean, other than our evenings together.”
David brought her hand to his lips. “How pretty you are, still blushing over our nightly escapades, my soon-to-be wife.”
He released her hand and picked up his sandwich. “I may be late for our rendezvous tomorrow night, however. I am heading out in the morning to see the gentleman who expressed an interest in buying this land. Simon Beaufort is still stonewalling me, and, while I’d like for him to buy it, I need some leverage. If I can get William Douglas interested in buying the property, old Simon Beaufort will have to purchase it, despite what his daughter and my mother want. Simon and William have been at war with each other for years, and Simon would not relish having William as a neighbor.”
“Is Mr. Douglas’s home far from here?”
“It’s ten miles or so. I’ve already confirmed with him that I’ll be coming, and I’ll go by horseback instead of taking a carriage, which will be faster. However, depending on how the course of our conversation goes, it could be very late before I get back. I may even be forced to spend the night there.”
Heather raised her glass and clinked it with David’s. “Take all the time you need, darling. Let’s hope for a successful outcome. If you think Mr. Douglas’s interest is what you need to sway Mr. Beaufort, I’m all for it. However, with Blanche seeming to do her best to thwart our attempts to leave, if you can sell to Mr. Beaufort’s enemy and make them neighbors, it would be most gratifying. I can admit to being a bit petty when it comes to this situation.”
Heather and David giggled at the thought of Simon Beaufort’s reaction to his unwelcome neighbor. Then, they drifted into talk of their new life in St. Louis, and what was to come.
As David was preparing to depart for his afternoon in the fields, Heather wrapped her arms around him.
“If there’s any chance of you not being able to come by tomorrow night, you’d better be prepared for an extended visit this evening,” she purred into his ear and ran her hand down his still-damp shirt.
David’s manhood sprang to life at her touch, and he groaned. “Maybe the men don’t need me in the fields this afternoon,” he growled at her as his entire body clenched at her touch.
“You know they are counting on your presence, David, so you mustn’t deny them. But perhaps we could allow ourselves just a taste of what’s to come this evening before you go.” To demonstrate what she meant, Heather began to stroke his hard shaft. “Come with me.” She led the way to her bedroom, and David followed her, entranced by her capacity to understand his feelings. His mouth salivated with delight as he began to unbutton his trousers.
• • •
The following evening, Heather and Colleen were busy setting up the writing boards and books at the small dining room table. Every inch of the table was covered.
“I swear, lass, every night you have more fresh faces than the night before. Pretty soon, we’re going to have to move the school into a bigger place. I’m so proud of what you’ve done here.”
Heather smiled as she smoothed out her blue day dress. “It’s most gratifying, isn’t it, to see how many of David’s slaves want to learn? I get such a good feeling when one of them masters their name, or reads for the first time ever. Just the looks on their faces is reward enough for me.”
“You’re a born teacher, that’s for certain, my wee lass.” Colleen reached out, brushing a stray hair into place as she kissed Heather’s forehead. “You’re doing a good thing here, Miss Heather. Did you ever think that life would take you here?”
“I’m glad you’re with me, Colleen. You have helped give me the courage I need to stay and fight for my man. Thank you, and I so appreciate you staying here. I know this can’t be much fun for you.”
Colleen patted her hand. “Nonsense, Miss Heather. This is my big adventure, too, right up there with coming to America from Ireland when I was but a wee thing myself.”
Heather surveyed the table. “Well, it looks like we’re ready for our evening’s class. Do you remember what needs to be done if we get interrupted?”
“Yes, Miss. I will lead them to the back of this house, check to make certain the coast is clear, and then hoist them one at a time out the window.”
“And if the coast isn’t clear?”
“I take them to the root cellar and shut the door on them.”
“Very good. Ah, here’s the first of tonight’s students,” Heather replied as she reacted to the soft knock at the door.
Soon everyone was in place. The candles blazed in the room and Negroes took up every corner with a thirst for the knowledge Heather was imparting. She sorted them into groups depending on at what stage they were in their learning, and strode from group to group, checking on their progress or teaching a new lesson.
They were about finished for the evening when a heavy knock came on the door. A man yelled from the other side “Open up now, in the name of the law!”
Without a word, Heather glanced at Colleen and nodded. The frightened slaves looked at each other. Colleen stood and motioned for them to follow her. Quiet as mice, they all ran from the room. As soon as the room was cleared of people, Heather went to the door.
Her heart sank as she gazed at the constable from town, and Susan Whitman.
“Mrs. Whitman, how nice to see you again. And Constable Durkin. How can I help you?” Heather blocked the entrance as best she could with her body. They muscled past her and stood in the center of the room, which was still ablaze with light, and littered with books and supplies.
Heather watched as Susan’s nostrils flared with indignation. “What did I tell you? This woman,” she pointed to Heather with an envelope she held in her hand, “is
teaching my slaves to read. And, if that weren’t enough, I have the proof right here she is helping them escape to freedom.” She held the envelope high over her head.
“What have you to say, Miss Fitzpatrick?” The constable stared at her. “Mrs. Whitman has filed a charge against you, and it’s one we do not take lightly.”
“I have done nothing wrong.” Heather’s stomach was quaking in fear, but she tried to not let Susan Whitman see how frightened she was. She wanted to keep the attention focused on her and this room until she was certain her students had escaped without capture, and hoped her words of denial could buy them a few more seconds.
“Oh no? Nothing wrong? Your own beloved sister doesn’t think so, and she has provided the evidence I needed to send you off.”
“What? Whatever are you talking about?”
“This letter proves that you helped my slave, Sally Whitman and her child, Titus, escape the clutches of the bounty hunters that my husband paid for.”
Heather’s heart quivered in time with her stomach. She took a deep breath as she tried to keep her voice and her hands from shaking and betraying outward signs of her fear.
“May I see the letter?”
“So you can throw it into the fire? I think not.”
“I want to see what was written. And there is no fire in the room, other than the candles.”
The constable looked from one woman to the other, with an air of uncertainty. “I suppose we can let her take a look at the evidence, Mrs. Whitman.”
With a wary expression, Susan looked at the two of them. Then, she handed over the document she had been waving around.
Heather looked at the envelope and was startled to recognize the handwriting of her twin. “This letter is addressed to David, not to you, Mrs. Whitman. Why are you reading my fiancé’s mail?”
“When my son is away from home, I read all correspondence that is addressed to him. After all, we do have a plantation to run, and you never know what might need immediate attention while he’s gallivanting around the countryside. So, when this letter arrived yesterday, of course I opened it up.”