“Now don’t get angry. I was paying you a compliment.”
“I don’t know if I understand how such would be considered a compliment.”
He stepped closer to me and lowered his voice. “Please believe that it is.”
I nodded, unable to speak with him so close. His allure crushed me, leaving me nearly breathless in the stillness of the night. Although, he didn't smile, his face still amazed me under the soft white glow of the moon. Why did he have to intrigue me so much? Why did he have to be, well, himself? This incredible man, who made me lose my thoughts whenever I looked at him. Young girls dream of not only finding that man, but also marrying that man. And, here that man stood in front of me and my unlucky fortune was, he was the wrong one.
“Why should you not think of me?”
No one can ever prepare for the honest conversations he or she has to face. Nor do they desire to tell the truth when it hurts another or casts bad feelings of resentment and anger. Who would? More often than not, honesty such as that creates a distance, leaving two people to grow apart and experience life down two different paths.
I yearned to refute his question, yearned to ask him for just one night together, one night of simple enjoyment without the pressure of the reality we faced. However, how could I be so cruel as to ask for something when he deserved better than that?
“Because my parents would never accept you in my life,” I finally said. Like sharp thorns, my words cut as I spoke them.
“Because I’m Muscogee.”
“Yes.”
“I suppose such would be a good reason for you. My family has faced such prejudice for many years, I’m not too shocked,” he said, his voice oozing with disappointment. “Do you feel the same as your parents?”
“No, but my parents have made arrangements for me that can’t be undone. I’m torn, torn in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.”
“Mr. Ludlow,” he whispered as he exhaled. With his hands resting on top of his head, he faced the road, turning away from me. His exasperation was obvious although he tried to hide it from me.
“They’ve chosen Thomas and accepted him as my suitor. I expect they’ll give their permission to him for my hand in marriage soon.”
“Do you love him?” He faced me suddenly and his body became rigid and stiff, as if he was bracing himself for the answer he didn’t want to hear.
“No.”
But I do need him and his money.
“Then inform them of that.”
“William, it wouldn’t matter if I did. They’ve chosen him, whether I do or not.”
“And you abide by their wishes. Alexandra, what do you want out of this life? Do you want to live by someone else’s wishes or do you want to live by your own?”
“I don’t have the choice,” I whispered. My logic fought against my illogic, my worlds of smuggling slaves and social parties colliding for the first time ever with guns blazing at one another. “Life isn’t that simple for me.”
“Yes, it is. You only need to realize it.”
Doubt overwhelmed me, eating away at my conviction. William’s words about life seemed so uncomplicated and completely unbelievable with all the obstacles in my path. “I wish I possessed your certainty.”
The crinkle in his forehead deepened, his facial expression changing in a way that scared me. “To be honest, Alexandra, I don’t understand why you don’t and that confuses me.”
“Defying my parents has been a favorable pursuit of mine. I don’t know why with the one time it truly matters, I’m hesitant.”
“Do you not know why or do you not wish to acknowledge that you do?”
I was afraid he would ask that.
In truth, the reason for my hesitation lay on the tip of my tongue, though bitten and sworn to secrecy. Certainly, he deserved to know what I am, a slave smuggler, and that it wasn’t solely my parents who held me to my obligations, but also the fact that I needed Thomas’s money and connections. With that said, though, his need still didn’t negate my responsibility to my partners.
“I don’t know why.” With nothing left to say to him, my only choice was to lie. “I should go. It’s getting late and I’m quite tired.”
I am so foolish.
Why did I meet him? Why did I allow him the false hope that we were standing here for a reason? My actions were cruel and held no excuse against the cold, harsh truth.
Why are we torturing each other?
“When can I see you again?” he asked, cupping my face in his hands.
“William, I don’t think we should meet again.” I removed his hands from my face, stepped away from him, and retreated toward the gates.
His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Why?”
“You know why.”
He sighed and climbed onto Essiyetv. “Well, you can either meet me or not. But I’ll be here tomorrow night, waiting for you.”
Chapter 8
I sat at the table with John, Daddy, and Mama, studying the blue diamond pattern etched on the white china dinner plate. Another boring dinner, another night sitting in a room with my family, and I have nothing to say.
“Sarah, did you buy the sweet potatoes from O’Brien’s?” John asked scooping the last bite from his dinner plate.
“No, sir, Mas’er John. Bought those from Mr. Graysden.”
A shard of carrot lodged in my throat and I coughed, sputtered, and gasped for breath. Sarah glanced at me and smiled, stifling a laugh.
“Who is Mr. Graysden?” Mama asked Daddy, ignoring my choking fit.
Daddy shoved a bite of food in his mouth, chewed fast, and swallowed. “Thomas recommended him for our supply needs. His products are cheap, but are of excellent quality. I never sent word for him, though. Perhaps Thomas did and forgot to inform me.”
“And do we know this Mr. Graysden, Nathanial?” Mama asked.
“I’ve heard word of him, but have never made his acquaintance. He is an elder in the Muscogee tribe that lives outside of town.”
“What tribe living outside of town?” Mama clutched her neck with her hand with a dramatic, terrified expression. I wanted to throw my plate at her. “Nathanial, I do not want those savages around my home. Do you understand me?”
“I don’t want those people around the manor either, Elizabeth, but his prices cannot be matched. Thomas mentioned if I chose not to do business with them he would be willing to purchase the supplies we need and I could reimburse him, but I would rather just contact Mr. Graysden myself. I don’t want to wait for word to travel through person after person when I need supplies.”
Mama’s fist slammed down onto the table, nearly knocking over her glass of wine. “Mr. Graysden is not to set foot on this property, Nathanial. Not a foot.”
Daddy wiped his mouth and laid his napkin on the cloth covered dining table as if it were the queen’s linen, then took a deep breath and groaned. Daddy always dreaded Mama’s commanding tone, which was meant to make a person feel foolish and incompetent. However, such was Mama—it was her joy in life to make people feel inadequate to her.
“What exactly are your concerns, Mama?” I asked, and instantly regretted my choice to speak.
“They are notorious for criminal behavior. They are low class, capable of thievery, murder, and Lord knows what crimes toward women.”
Her words horrified me—stabbing like a sharp blade and leaving deep wounds. Mama’s animosity only reminded me that as much as I wished for the chance to see William again, my desires were eclipsed by the truth that my parents would never accept him.
He was forbidden, and he always will be.
I picked at the food on my plate, an annoying habit Mama detested. I didn’t care. Tonight, I had no interest in eating or listening to her chatter. Why should I care of the da
ily gossip amongst Mama’s friends? They were all mindless fools living in selfishness and narcissism, full of conceit and unwarranted judgment toward anyone who came across their path. John and Daddy looked as equally bored, but they listened to her, nonetheless.
Dang fools. Every single one of them.
“Alexandra, I have told you several times to not pick at your food. If you do not wish to eat, then leave the table,” Mama snapped.
I shoved the chair away from the table and threw my napkin down onto my plate.
“Do not give me an attitude, young lady, or you will find yourself staying in your bedroom until you have learned how to behave.”
“Mama, I’m not a child.”
“Then do not act as such.” With a single wrist flick of her raised hand, she waved me from the room. “You are done.”
I wanted to stomp from the dining room, wanted to slam the door just to anger her, but I knew I shouldn’t—not that I cared if she banished me to my bedroom for days. My bedroom had always been my solace. Tonight, though, a part of me feared being alone with my thoughts in the seclusion of the four walls. Mama’s abhorrence for William’s father and people had depressed my spirit. Lost and confused, my shoulders were heavy, and angering Mama would only make my night worse.
Shutting my bedroom door didn’t banish the stress of the evening. Instead, the anxiety held on with a death grip that had the power to drive me insane. I took off my shoes, the hardwood floors cooled my hot bare feet, and unbuttoned the buttons on the dress, letting it fall to the ground in a heap of silk and lace as I opened my closet doors. Tears welled in my eyes while gazing at the dresses hanging inside.
Unfortunately, my choices had always been controlled by two contradicting lives raging war against one another: one being the proper daughter of Nathanial and Elizabeth Monroe, and the other being the law-breaking rebel by stealing slaves.
My actions the past several days confused me—they were shocking, utterly irrational, and feared if given any heartfelt concern. Certainly, I wasn’t like my parents, but every time I acted in a manner that they would, the imaginary noose would tighten around my neck, threatening to suffocate me. Was I destined for the life I didn’t know if I wanted? And if I was, could I change that destiny?
I curled up in my blankets and pillows in my bed, and gazed up at the same moonlit ceiling I had lain under for the last eighteen years. My bed’s wood post rails pointed upward as if directing my eyes to the few small cracks forming in the plaster. I knew those cracks, had watched them begin, and continued to watch them grow larger and larger every day that I lived in this bedroom.
In a way, I understood them, or perhaps, I understood the plaster, shifting and twisting as it rebelled from its forced stance. Nothing should be expected to stand motionless for all eternity, not even a house. Yet, that was what was expected of me, restricted by my parents’ belief on a proper way of life.
A world with loveless marriages arranged with the sickness of greed. A world filled with dull parties, false friendships, and lifeless memories to be regretted as one lay dying at the end of a meaningless life. Yes, I understood the cracks perfectly, understood their need for rebellion, their utter desire to resist the force that imprisoned them. Looking at the cracks, my anxiety took control. I flung the blankets off and paced the floor.
Yesterday morning I awoke thinking and believing in a life shared with Thomas, a life which I wasn’t completely certain about, but which was nonetheless my own choice. I had planned to marry him, and though I didn’t love him, I figured that perhaps love for him would grow over time. More importantly, I would be able to save hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives.
My feelings, however, shattered the second I walked around the gates last night, spinning out of control, a vortex of emotions, and me, powerless to stop it as soon as I laid eyes on William. Certainly, regarding him a lot after only a short time spent in his company was odd, but in all honesty, the time didn’t feel like five minutes, it felt like my whole life. Through the awkwardness of our silence and argument over my parents, the sense of belonging there with him overwhelmed me.
Everything about him attacked me by surprise last night, just as my feelings for him did, and after leaving his side, the only thing I wanted was to see him again. Meeting him hadn’t eased my doubts or answered any of my questions. All it had done was make each of them more complicated because my future had not ever been just about me.
I snatched a folded piece of paper from my bedside table and unfolded the letter Peter sent with Sarah this afternoon. He scheduled another run for the day after tomorrow for two young men across town, and while he had plans to pick up the slaves himself, he needed me to fetch him money before he left.
He always needs money—money I’ll someday obtain from Thomas.
And like a pendulum, my choice swung back and forth, two steps forward for meeting William again and two steps backward for forgetting he ever existed. To consider a life without him now saddened me more than I could explain.
The clock chimed midnight, each bong of the small bell asked the same question: should I walk out the door and meet him again?
My anxiety made my skin crawl.
Meeting him last night was foolish. Considering meeting him again was even more foolish, and yet, in this moment, after the last bong the clock chimed, I decided to play the fool.
“Estonko vm hokte,” William said as I walked around the gate. He caught my confused expression and laughed. “It means, hello beautiful woman.”
“Oh,” I laughed. “Well thank you.”
“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to meet me.”
“I have to admit for a moment I wondered myself.”
“Why?” His eyebrows pinched together, and he released my hands as he stepped away from me.
“William, you know why. Don’t force me to repeat the reasons.”
“I only do to make you see how ridiculous they are.”
I turned away from him and crossed my arms. With my irritation bubbling, I didn’t want to say any words I would regret. Being here wasn’t fair to me or to William.
What am I doing here? Why did I meet him again?
“Would you like for me to leave?” he asked.
“No,” I said, unable to say yes.
He sighed in annoyance. “Why are we here then, Alexandra? Why am I waiting for a young lady who obviously does not wish to spend time with me?”
I spun around to face him. “Do you want to know what Mama said about your family this evening? The horrible, disrespectful accusations she made that I was forced to listen to all the while knowing that the person of whom she spoke was the very same person I wanted to see more than anyone in the world?”
He drew me in for another passionate kiss, just like the night before. In my dizziness, and while the girl inside my head screamed for me to stop him, my hesitation melted. He brushed his finger across my lips and his perfect eyes silenced the girl. Her words, her reasons, every syllable and motive she cried, I would ignore.
“Care to go for a ride through the woods?” he asked.
“But I’ve never ridden a horse before.”
“Everyone begins with a first time,” he laughed.
My heart pounded as I wandered around William, and my fingers traced Essiyetv’s smooth, soft, coat. As a little girl, I dreamed of learning to ride a horse while standing for dressmakers, studying how to cross my legs, or while sipping my tea with my Governess. I was jealous of John, watching him learn to ride from a window and hoping his butt would hit the ground with a thud more than it actually did. If I was never allowed on the back of a horse, why shouldn’t I wish for him to fall off?
“Why haven’t you ever learned?”
“Mama doesn’t believe a woman should ever ride a horse. Women are to ride in carriag
es, twirling their lace parasols in their gloved hands, not be carried upon thousand pound animals,” I mocked.
“How incredibly dull,” William laughed. “Are you ready for your first lesson?”
“More than you know.”
“Hang on to his mane and give me your left foot.”
William grabbed hold of my shoe and lifted me up. I swung my leg over Essiyetv’s back, and straddled him, unbalanced and uncomfortable.
“Hold on to his mane and don’t squeeze too hard with your legs,” William said, climbing on behind me. He placed his hand on my thigh, and my cheeks burned.
“Alexandra?”
“Ye–yes.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“What did I say?”
I didn’t feel embarrassed that I didn’t listen, but I did feel embarrassed as to why I didn’t listen. How could I tell him his touch just sent my mind reeling?
“Um.”
He laughed. “I said don’t squeeze too hard with your legs.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
Essiyetv began to walk. The rocking motion was hard to follow, and I slipped a little from side to side. “Use your balance, move with the horse, not against him.”
William leaned into my body, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, and with his mouth just behind my left ear, he whispered. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall off.”
Chapter 9
Essiyetv walked smooth and strong, his power and strength carrying us with ease through the tall grass and into the trees.
Both William and I rode in silence, listening to the sounds around us. A small part of me feared the lack of conversation between us—feared it would become the same awkward silence that plagued Thomas and me while in each other’s company. Even if our interaction felt different, the chance could still present itself.
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