Finding Mercy

by Cindy Kelley

  “But they were so happy when I came home,” Charlotte said.

  “I believe Miss Victoria be happy to see you,” Chessie said. “The others been like me. Waitin’ and watchin’ and wonderin’ who came home. Dey think since you don’t ’member dey’s s’posed to leave da house, dey don’t hafta say a word as long as yo’ memory stays gone.”

  “So the whole thing has been a lie? The concern, the welcome- home party?”

  “Yassum,” Chessie said as Isaac came back into the house with Biddy. “And dat ain’t all of it.”

  Isaac had to give the young colored girl a little push to get her to move into the room. Nervously chewing a fingernail, she stopped near Chessie.

  “Biddy came to me too and say somethin’ you need to know,” Chessie said. “But she’s worried da way she find out is gonna get her fired from da big house.”

  “Just tell me what you have to say, Biddy,” Charlotte said. “You won’t be in trouble.”

  Biddy glanced at Chessie, who nodded her encouragement. “Well, Miss Charlotte, I like me some peach rum and da place I kin find it is in da wine cellar.” Biddy stopped and put her thumbnail back in her mouth and started to chew.

  “Get on with it,” Chessie said.

  “I be in da wine cellar a few nights ago, not exactly hidin’, mind you, jes sitting behind one of da big casks and havin’ myself a little nip of da peach rum … and I hear Mr. Beau and Miss Suzanne come into da room, and now I’m scairt, because if dey catch me, I’m in big, big trouble.” Biddy’s eyes widened as she spoke. “So I keep quiet and I hear ’em talkin’ ’bout … you. Dey’s talkin’ ’bout books and numbers and a meetin’ in a barn. But Miss Suzanne say you never gonna get to dat meetin’ ’cause she gots a friend in da Klan whose gonna make sure you get the sweet Jesus scairt right outta you and you be runnin’ so hard away from dis place they ain’t never gonna hafta worry ’bout you again.”

  Charlotte felt the world tilt with all of the truth. She shook her head at the revelations, then turned hurt eyes on Chessie. “They planned the whole thing just to get me to leave. Why?”

  “’Cause dey know’d da truth.” Chessie looked down at the dirty tin box on her lap. “Dey jes didn’t know where to find it.”

  Charlotte frowned. “People I thought loved me … betrayed me.”

  Chessie studied her, her face impassive. “Makes for a bad pain, don’t it?”

  Charlotte heard the meaning behind the words, and in spite of Chessie’s effort not to reveal her pain it was there all over her face. She crossed the few steps to Chessie and knelt in front of her.

  “I am so sorry for the bad pain I caused you, Chessie,” Charlotte said. “I don’t know how I could have been so cruel. Forgive me.”

  Chessie’s eyes hardened, her mouth a thin line of denial.

  “Forgive me.”

  Chessie’s lip began to quiver.

  “Please …,” Charlotte begged.

  Chessie’s eyes filled with tears, but she stubbornly shook her head. Charlotte covered Chessie’s hands with her own. The hard lines of Chessie’s face began to relax. Tears slipped down her ebony cheeks. She released a pent-up breath and barely dipped her head in acquiescence. Charlotte rose to her knees and leaned in to hug her. Chessie reached out and ran her hand along Charlotte’s hair, her eyes closed for one moment of peace. Charlotte pulled back, her face washed in relief.

  Biddy and Isaac, forgotten in the moment, stood, staring at the two women. Chessie fixed a look on both of them. “Y’all act like you never seen a proper ’pology between two fine women ’afore.”

  Biddy shook her head. “Not like this one I ain’t.”

  Chessie looked back at Charlotte, still kneeling in front of her. “Now, ’bout yer family and what dey done …”

  Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t know what to do … how to even respond.”

  Chessie patted the tin box. “Had this buried in a special place till jes today.”

  “What is it?” Charlotte asked.

  “I believe dis be your future.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The people would have questions when they found out John’s daughter—the darling of Darien—was gone again. And I need to have answers, Suzanne thought, sitting at her writing desk in the parlor the next morning. She dipped her pen in ink and began to write her thoughts. She couldn’t handle our Southern ways. The North had won her over. She paused, scratched through the last three words and added, prevailed in their ignorance. A satisfied nod and she continued: We tried explaining to my dear daughter that slavery has done more to elevate a degraded race in the scale of humanity; to tame the savage; to civilize the barbarous; to soften the ferocious; to enlighten the ignorant, and to spread the blessings of Christianity among the heathen. But she would not hear any of it. And chose to leave, breaking our hearts once more. Suzanne’s thoughts were interrupted by the strains of the pianoforte coming through the house. Victoria playing a waltz. How do I tell her Charlotte has left home? Suzanne wondered. And yet again without saying good-bye. I want to spare her the pain of her sister’s actions, but how can I?

  Somewhere in her consciousness, she was aware of a faint knock on the front door. I just want to keep Victoria safe here with me; how awful would it be if it were Victoria and not Charlotte who left … Unimaginable.

  Another knock and Victoria continued to play in the other room. Suzanne sighed. “Rose?” she called out. “The door?”

  But Rose didn’t materialize, and whoever was at the door was very insistent. With a sigh, Suzanne pushed back from her desk and made her way into the foyer. She pulled open the door at the fourth knock. Her brows lifted at the visitor standing there.

  “Adam? This is a lovely surprise.”

  The family attorney frowned. “Surprise? I don’t understand. One of your field hands came to town to fetch me. He said it was urgent I get here immediately.”

  A brief frown creased her brow, but she smiled and stepped back so he could enter. “Come in.”

  She was vaguely aware the music had stopped as he entered and swept the hat from his head. Suzanne closed the door behind him.

  “I honestly don’t know what this is about, Adam,” Suzanne said. “If it was Beau who had you summoned, then he hasn’t shared the reason with me.”

  “It was me,” came a voice from behind them.

  Suzanne whirled around to see Charlotte standing just inside the foyer.

  “Good morning, Mr. Harper,” Charlotte said. She looked tired, a little disheveled.

  “Miss Charlotte. Is everything all right?” His brows furrowed with concern.

  “It will be.” She smiled. “Thank you for coming.”

  Suzanne stared at her stepdaughter. “Charlotte? What are you doing here?” She tried not to sound as shocked as she felt.

  “I live here,” Charlotte said.

  Suzanne shot a look at Adam and saw the quizzical look on his face. She hurried toward Charlotte and tried to embrace her. But Charlotte stood rigidly in the embrace.

  “Darling, I’m so happy you didn’t leave,” Suzanne said quietly.

  Charlotte took a step back. “Where is Beau?”

  “I’m sure he’s in the fields,” Suzanne said. “Why?”

  Victoria entered the foyer. “Hello, Mr. Harper. I thought I heard someone at the door.”

  Charlotte looked at Suzanne. “Go get Beau.”

  Suzanne balked. “I’m not going to trot out to the fields to retrieve your brother, Charlotte, and everyone else is too busy with their duties.”

  “I have something to say that affects all of you,” Charlotte said, including Victoria in her glance. “If you want to know what that is—I suggest you do trot out to the fields to get him. We’ll wait for you in Father’s study.”

  “Mr. Harper? Will you join me?” Charlotte said. He nodd
ed, and the two of them crossed the foyer.

  Victoria frowned, then started after them, but Suzanne grabbed her arm. “Oh no, you’re coming with me to find Beau.”

  “What’s the matter with Charlotte?”

  “I have no idea,” Suzanne said. She took her daughter’s arm, giving Victoria no choice but to go with her out the door.

  John Chapman’s study had been spared any vandalism by the Yankees that had occupied the house simply because the commanding officer of the regiment had decided to use the space as his own. The trappings of the study were very masculine. There was a massive mahogany desk, a wooden floor covered with a thick rug, leather chairs, and heavy velvet drapes framing two windows that offered a view of the trees in the distance. A very faint odor of fine cigars still lingered in the air.

  Charlotte tried to still her roiling emotions as her stepmother entered with Victoria and Beau. She stood with Mr. Parker and Chessie by the desk. An immediate frown creased her stepmother’s face.

  “Chessie? Why are you here?”

  “Because I asked her to be,” Charlotte said.

  “I’m sure whatever you have to say is for family ears only,” Beau said. “She doesn’t belong in here. You’re excused, Chessie.”

  “She’s staying,” Charlotte said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “What is all this, Char?” Beau asked. “Mother comes to tell me you’re staying and I rush here to tell you how happy I am, and …”

  “Happy?”

  Beau nodded. “Yes, of course I’m happy. I thought we’d lost you all over again after last night. I hated to see my big sister leave under such unhappy circumstances.”

  Mr. Harper looked at Charlotte. “You planned to leave home again?”

  “I considered it,” Charlotte said, “but that was before I had all the facts.”

  “That sounds like good news,” Beau said. “It must mean you don’t believe the Klan will make good on their threats?”

  Victoria gasped. “What do those awful men have to do with anything, Charlotte?”

  “So you don’t know?” Charlotte asked, but she needn’t have asked the question. She could see the truth on Victoria’s face.

  Victoria shook her head.

  “Who wants to tell her? Mother? Beau?” Charlotte turned to them.

  “Really, Char … always so dramatic,” Beau said, softening his words with a smile. “I think we all just need to calm down and have a reasonable conversation …”

  “There is nothing reasonable about the two of you plotting to get me out of the house,” Charlotte said. “There is nothing reasonable about telling the most hideous men in the South to frighten me within an inch of my life and threaten me like they did.”

  “Who is filling your head with such nonsense?” her stepmother asked, cutting a look toward Chessie. Chessie gave a shake of her head.

  “I stood in my room, shaking in my shoes, and asked how the Klan would know where and when to find me, and all along it was you!”

  “You want to blame someone for your own irresponsible actions, and you’ve chosen your own family,” her stepmother said. “I find that reprehensible.”

  “I find you and your actions reprehensible,” Charlotte said, glaring at her.

  Charlotte caught the glint of steel in her stepmother’s eyes before she softened her expression and looked at Mr. Harper.

  “I’m sorry you’re here to witness this, Adam,” Mother said. “I can’t even begin to imagine how John would feel to hear these lies coming out of Charlotte’s mouth.”

  “Someone—not Chessie—overheard you and Beau talking,” Charlotte said. “About the books, and the meeting at Crowley’s.”

  Charlotte took a step toward them. “You said I’d never make it to the meeting. You’ve got a friend in the Klan who’ll make sure I’m scared out of my wits and leave this place so fast you’ll never have to worry about me again!”

  Victoria looked at her mother and brother. “Is that true?”

  Charlotte shot her sister a look. “Not too hard to believe, is it, Victoria?”

  Mother turned to Mr. Parker. “We did it for her—for her own good.”

  “Mother,” Beau said.

  “We may as well confess, Beau.” She looked at Charlotte. “Yes, I asked those men to be on our property and to scare you … but only because I knew if someone didn’t put the fear of God into you, you’d keep doing reckless things.”

  She turned back to Adam. “You can see my reasoning, can’t you, Adam? I was worried for her very life. Bringing a black boy to church! Stirring up trouble with the Freedmen’s Bureau. Where was it going to stop? With Charlotte hanging from the branch of a tree?”

  “So it was out of your concern for me?” Charlotte asked.

  “Yes, dear. Out of concern. We didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I may have believed you if I didn’t know you never liked me—let alone loved me.”

  “That’s not true, dear!” Suzanne said.

  Charlotte nodded at Chessie. The old woman squared her rounded shoulders. “It is da truth, missus. Ever’body in dis room but Mr. Harper know it be true.”

  Charlotte’s stepmother pointed a finger at Chessie. “You shut up, Chessie. You shut up right now …”

  But Chessie ignored her and went on. “I knowed how much Master Chapman loved Miss Charlotte, knowed how he wanted da best fo’ her. He trusted his wife and other chil’ren to treat her good while he be away.”

  Chessie bravely looked Suzanne in the eye. “Yo done a good job at first at hidin’ the way you felt ’bout her when he was home. But he never knowed how you treat her when he was gone. He never knowed ’bout the meanness, ’cause Miss Charlotte never say a word to him. Didn’t want him worryin’ ’bout her.”

  “That’s enough out of you!” Mother clapped her hands together.

  Chessie shook her head. “No, ma’am, it ain’t. I gonna say da rest.” Charlotte saw Chessie look her way and gave her an encouraging nod.

  “Dat time he come home unexpected, dat time he got to see and hear the ugliness fo’ himself was da day he tell da three of you to git out a’ his house. Git out and don’t come back for da way you treat Miss Charlotte. He tells me ’bout it—and tells me to stay and look after her. He say she better off with me and no one else den with you, missus.”

  Adam Harper was silent but hanging on Chessie’s every word. Charlotte could see her stepmother fuming, and, in spite of her anger, she was worried.

  “Da morning Master John was gettin’ ready to leave—he called me into dis room and shut da door and he hands me an envelope dat’s sealed wit’ wax. ‘Chessie,’ he says, ‘I want you to guard dis wit’ yo’ life.’” She frowned. “He look nervous dat day. Look like a man who sees da end of his time comin’ but can’t do nothin’ ’bout it. He tol’ me what’s in dat envelope but say not to let anyone see it. If he die, den I’m to give it to Miss Charlotte or Mr. Harper.”

  Another frown, another shake of Chessie’s head. “I see da hurt from y’all ever time Master John favored Miss Charlotte. Everyone seen it—weren’t no secret. What he did wasn’t right, but what y’all did last night—turning those white devils loose on yer own kin—that’s jes evil.”

  Mother purposely looked away from Chessie to Charlotte. “Where is the envelope?”

  Charlotte lifted the lid of a humidor on the desk, took out an envelope, and handed it to Mr. Harper.

  “I haven’t opened it, as you can see by the seal,” Charlotte said, “but I know what’s inside.”

  “Well?” Suzanne demanded.

  “It’s Father’s will,” Charlotte said.

  “Father’s will was read right after his burial, Charlotte. Just because you don’t remember it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” Beau said.

  “Father’s amended will,” Cha
rlotte said. “He changed it the morning he planned to leave—and left the entire plantation and all his holdings to me.”

  Beau barked out a laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Tell her, Mr. Harper—tell her you read the will right here in this office after he died. Tell her he left the plantation to Mother.”

  But Mr. Harper was breaking the seal on the envelope. He withdrew two sheets of linen paper and perused it. The silent tension in the room was palpable. Finally, he looked up.

  “Beau is right, Charlotte. I read John’s last will and testament after his death …”

  Beau barked out a laugh. “See?”

  “But according to this,” Harper continued, “John revoked that will and drafted this new one.” He looked down at the paper again. “This leaves all of John’s holdings, property, land, and money to Charlotte Chapman. It makes her the sole owner of the plantation.”

  “It can’t be legal,” Mother said.

  “It is,” Mr. Harper said. “It’s his signature. I was his lawyer and friend for twenty years.” He looked at Charlotte’s mother. “It’s authentic. Binding.”

  Harper turned to Chessie. “Why didn’t you come forward with this, Chessie? You knew what it said … you knew what it meant.”

  Chessie nodded. “Yassuh, I knew. I knew da person who’d jes sold my grandson would’a had dis place and all da slaves dat came wit’ it.” She shook her head. “Didn’t want to see a person like dat gain so much.”

  “It wasn’t your decision to make, Chessie,” he said.

  “I know dat,” Chessie said. “Ain’t offering no ’scuse, ’cept fo’ what I jes said,” Chessie told him. “I also know dat dis Miss Charlotte be different dan da woman who sold my Kitch.”

  Charlotte felt her eyes well up at her words. She looked at her stepmother, seething just a few feet away, and realized she owed as much forgiveness as she’d been given.

  “Suzanne …”

  “I will fight you on this,” Suzanne said. “I was married to that pompous man. I put up with him and his warring ways for years! I gave him two children!”

  “I was going to ask you to leave the house,” Charlotte said, “but I’ve reconsidered. I think now that we know where everything stands, we should find a way to forge some new, honest relationships …”