“Worrisome? How?”
“It is not something the average man understands.”
“Do you understand it?”
“Not entirely,” he answered honestly. “I do know that women are considered very important and are often revered as priestesses.”
“Truly?” Circe asked fascinated.
“Yes.”
“And you said it is called Voodoo?”
“Circe, I must put my foot down.”
“About what, Uncle Robert?” she asked innocently as she continued to eat.
“It is not wise to go amongst the slaves.”
“Why is that?”
“There has been rumblings on the island of revolts.”
“Can you blame them, Uncle Robert? They have no rights. They are not paid for the job they do.”
“They earn their freedom.”
“They should already be free.”
“I don’t write these rules, Circe, but I do abide by them. It’s easier for all involved.”
“How? How is it easier for the ones that toil all day to make you richer while they have nothing?”
“They have a roof over their heads and food in their mouths. Their children are taken care of. Did you know most of them are here because they were captured by other tribes in their homeland and sold?”
“And what of the Irish?”
“Most are working off debts or prison sentences more often than not.”
“That is still no excuse for them to continue to be enslaved here.”
“That’s enough, Circe. As long as you are staying under my roof I will have your word that you will not stir up trouble,” he said, pointing a finger at her.
“I cannot agree to that, Uncle Robert. I apologize,” she said softly.
“I knew it was futile.” He stood and turned to leave the room.
“Am I to leave?”
“No,” he said reluctantly, “but I beg you to be careful.”
“Yes, Uncle Robert.”
“I mean it, Circe. Life here is balanced. Everyone knows what is expected of everyone. They don’t need a newcomer coming and filling their head with dreams that can’t be fulfilled.”
“They are like women, are they not, Uncle Robert?”
“What do you mean?” He looked at her in confusion.
“Essentially a woman is owned by her father until some other man comes along and bids high enough to win her hand in marriage.”
“Circe, as much as I would like for you to stay, perhaps you should consider returning to England.”
“Perhaps, Uncle Robert, it was my destiny to come here and affect some sort of change.”
“That’s what I’m most afraid of,” he said before leaving the room.
Circe placed her silverware on the plate and stared after her uncle’s retreating figure. Was he really happy to be so complacent with the way things went on here? She watched Dorothea stop him and say something to him. He placed a kiss on her brow, perhaps he also said something to her. Circe could not hear from here, nor could she tell with his back to her, then he continued on. Dorothea stood a moment, then tightened the belt of her robe about her waist and entered the breakfast room.
“Robert is worried about you.”
“I really do not mean to cause him to worry.”
Dorothea filled her plate at the buffet and sat down across from Circe. “I know that I am a few years younger than you, but may I give you a word of advice?”
“Of course.”
“Stay out of matters you have no understanding of,” Dorothea said bluntly before taking a bite of some sort of fruit.
“Pardon?” Circe asked, taken aback.
“Robert has tried to be nice to you, to explain how things are here. I see in your eyes your determination. You do not approve of the way we do things. I know that it can be difficult for people to understand our culture and how we live together harmoniously. We’ve had people like you come here before and try to put ideas into the minds of the slaves. They made the slaves believe they could survive on their own, that they could provide for their families better than we could. It did not end well for any involved.”
“Are you trying to frighten me, Dorothea?”
“Not at all. I’m merely explaining how it is here. We do not need an outsider coming here and stirring things up. The sooner you find a husband and move on, the better. There is a party tonight that Robert and I are attending. You will accompany us. You will not speak of the improperness of having slaves. You will be introduced to eligible bachelors, you’ll flirt with them, and talk with them as a woman, not as a man.”
“I am not speaking like a man,” Circe said, offended. “I am speaking like a person who knows her own mind and her beliefs.”
“And trust me when I say that will not get you married with children. If you want the end result you came here in search of, you will act like a simpering miss with barely a thought in your head. You will giggle when the men believe they have told a joke, and you will act as if you are in awe of their intelligence and business acumen. Do you understand?”
“You want me to act the total opposite of my true nature?”
“Ah, so you do understand,” Dorothea said before she took another bite of the delicate piece of fruit.
“Is that what you did, Dorothea?”
“I’m happily married, aren’t I?”
“And children?”
“I have been with child thrice, but unfortunately each time ended in miscarriage.”
“You did not mention that the other day.”
“There are things too personal to share.”
“I understand, and once again I find myself apologizing. That must be the most difficult thing a woman must endure.”
“I still hold out hope for the future.”
“Hope is all we have, is it not? I wonder what kind of hope the slaves of this island have?”
“Their freedom. That is what they are working towards.”
“Years later, if they survive,” Circe could not help but argue for the rights of these people who had no one to fight for them.
“Stay out of things you don’t fully understand, Circe. Now, enough of this talk. You shouldn’t worry about others, only yourself and your future. Eat up. There will only be a light fare in the middle of the day. We do not want to eat too much and be miserable for the party.”
“I am finished,” Circe said as she stood and pushed in her chair. “I appreciate this frank discussion Dorothea.”
“I truly am not being mean, nor am I trying to frighten you. As I said, we live a delicately balanced life here.”
“I will do my best not to disrupt it.”
“Excellent. You might like to lie down and take a nap this afternoon. Our parties tend to last rather late here.”
“Yes, Dorothea,” Circe replied woodenly as she left the room. Her facial expression was passive to anyone who saw her, while inside she was seething. How dare she tell me to act as if I had not a thought in my head? she wondered angrily. She wanted to pound something, but instead she calmly entered her room, shut the door, and crossed to the bed. Circe picked up a pillow, held it to her face, and screamed her frustration into it.
“Miss Hayhurst, are you all right?”
* * *
Circe yelped and spun around. Molly, the maid that had been assigned to her, was staring at her as if she had grown another head.
“Yes. I was just so angry that I wanted to scream.”
“So you did, miss?”
“Yes.”
“How strange,” the maid said and turned back to what she had been doing while occasionally throwing a concerned look over her shoulder at Circe.
“I thought I was alone.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman suddenly looked frantic. “I promise I won’t speak a word of this t’ another soul, especially the mistress.”
Circe crossed the room and raised her hands to grip the other woman’s arms when the maid threw her hands
up in front of her face and fell to her knees.
“Oh, no, no, please, not again. I promise I won’t say a word. I swear I won’t. Please don’t hit me.”
Circe squatted down in front of her. “No one is going to harm you. I was simply going to touch your arms, to calm you.” The woman looked at her from the corner of her eyes and then quickly looked down at the floor again. “And I will not speak of this to anyone.”
“Thank you,” Molly said, sniffling.
“Are you hurt often?”
Silence.
“Who hurts you?”
Silence.
“I understand.” Circe stood and crossed the room to allow the maid some privacy to gather her thoughts and emotions.
“I’ll be back later this afternoon to help you prepare for the party. What dress would you like to wear?”
“The pink one, I think.”
“Yes, miss. I’ll make certain it’s ready for you.”
“Thank you.”
Circe watched her slip out the door and shut it behind her retreating figure. She had not made eye contact with Circe once after she had approached her. She thought about the other house servants who did not meet her glances. Is Uncle Robert abusing his servants? The thought sickened her, and for a moment she believed she would be ill and lose her breakfast. Perhaps it was someone else. Molly had mentioned not telling the mistress. Was Dorothea behind all of this? But she was so small in stature, surely she could not strike the fear in people that she had seen in Molly’s face. Samson, on the other hand, was a big man. Mayhap that was part of his duties, but did they really have to resort to beatings?
Stay out of things you don’t fully understand, Circe. Dorothea’s words echoed in her mind over and over. Was there something sinister going on at Briar Rose Plantation? Or did she truly not understand this way of life? What if her future husband employed slaves? Could she give up her beliefs that people should be free in order to see her own dreams of a husband and children come true? This was supposed to be an enjoyable stay, but it was turning into anything but that. Perhaps this party tonight would have her feeling differently. Yes, tonight would be the pivotal turning point she needed. Tonight she would meet bachelors who needed a woman in their lives to care for them and give them heirs, and she was just the woman to fill that description.
* * *
Circe arrived at the party trailing behind her Uncle Robert and Dorothea. She was introduced to the host and hostess who welcomed her to their home but eyed her curiously. They made small talk for a few minutes asking her about the weather in England when she left and how she liked life on Barbados. She replied as she believed they would want her to answer. When the topic of conversation turned to the two wars England was currently caught up in, Uncle Robert interrupted, claiming to have seen an old friend, and pulled her away from the group. The trio was across the room and standing in a rather shadowy corner when Circe was finally able to question his actions.
“Since we are skulking in the shadows like thieves, I suspect you just lied to our host and hostess. So, tell me, Uncle Robert, what was the cloak and dagger bit about?”
“Circe, you are my favorite niece—”
“I am your only niece,” she replied drolly.
“So you are. These men, and women,” he added hastily, “are not used to you and your mother’s sharing of your opinions.”
“You mean, they are used to weak-willed women that listen with bated breath for the next word that is going to come out of their man’s mouth as if it would rival the word of God.” When he started to speak, she continued, “And hearing the opinion of a woman, in regard to anything political, is a ludicrous notion in and of itself.”
“Yes,” he answered succinctly.
“Well, you will be happy to know that someone has already given me the lecture that if I want to meet my goal of obtaining a husband that I should appear vapid and ignorant—”
“I didn’t quite say that, Circe,” Dorothea admonished.
“So, for tonight, I am fully prepared to act as I have been instructed. I will be a perfectly dense creature who has no more presence of mind than to bat her eyelashes and tell her companion how intelligent and witty he is, regardless of the truth of the statement.”
“Circe—”
“I am not finished, Uncle Robert. If your and Dorothea’s way is successful, I will consider continuing the charade. If it is not, I will return to my normal opinionated self and the male species of the group can either enjoy my companionship or move onto one of those simpering, vapid misses you are trying to convince me nabs a husband over those of us with more than half a brain in her head.” She looked at both of them, conveying that she meant every word she said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have conquests to make.”
Circe left the two behind and walked into the middle of the room. She looked about as she transformed herself from smart and independent into simpering and foolish in less than a minute. To complete the image, she worried her hands in front of her and nibbled at the corner of her lower lip. Just enough to give her the air of uncertainty. Her subterfuge appeared to be working, because, in a matter of seconds, she was surrounded by a bevy of men. All of them were vying for her attention and attempting to carry on a conversation with her. She tossed her head back and laughed.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please, one at a time.”
“You first, my dear woman,” one of the more attractive men said.
“That is all too kind of you. I am Circe Hayhurst, newly arrived from England.”
“Are you related to Lord Robert Hayhurst?” another man asked.
“Yes. He is my uncle. I traveled to Barbados to visit him and his wife.” Circe watched as several of the men faded away from the group at this information. She pushed away the hurt she felt at their defection. She refused to dwell on that when there were still a dozen or so men gathered around her. Besides, if they did not want to make her acquaintance simply because of her name, that was their loss. Bringing herself back to the present, Circe listened intently as each man introduced himself in turn. Some were very pleasing to the eye while others were less so. She reminded herself it was how they were on the inside and how they treated her that mattered. There were three lords among the group and the rest were without titles.
“Miss Hayhurst, might I get you something to drink?” Lord Erickson, one of the titled men asked.
“That would be wonderful, my lord.” She smiled demurely as the man raised his hand at a passing footman and spoke to him in low tones. This was a man who had power and knew how to wield it, she thought. Even while speaking to the footman, he remained at a prominent location beside her. Slowly the untitled men left the group leaving only the three lords doting on her. The footman brought a tray with several dainty glasses on it. Lord Erickson took a glass and handed it to her then took one for himself.
“Thank you,” she nodded more to the footman than to Lord Erickson.
“Anything for a beauty such as yourself.”
She flashed him a smile and fluttered her eyelashes. He stood even taller and bestowed her with a toothy grin.
“So tell, us, Miss Hayhurst, what are your interests?”
“Oh, I imagine they are the same as any young woman my age,” she responded vaguely, even though she very seriously doubted it. After all, she did not know any young women interested in politics or the wars Britain was embattled in. And it was most assuredly frowned upon for women to have an interest in business. “Enough about me. What I would like most is to hear about each of you.”
She had a vapid smile on her face as the men spoke. Despite her look, she studied each one intently, listening to what they said and interpreting what they were not saying as well. All three of the them were pompous, but Lord Erickson was the worst. He was also the most handsome of the trio. He had blonde, sun streaked hair that was an excellent compliment to his sun kissed skin. His teeth were a brilliant white, which was a pleasant surprise. All three men claimed to be very s
uccessful in their endeavors as plantation owners in Barbados. The other two men, Lords Smithson and Beaumont acted as if they were parrots of Lord Erickson. Everything he said, they quickly spoke up that they too had the same. When she could not stand anymore, she looked past them, hoping some sort of diversion would present itself.
“It looks as if they are beginning to pair off for cards.”
“Would you be so kind as to partner me, Miss Hayhurst?” Lord Erickson asked before the other two.
She fought the groan that was fighting to escape and instead said, “I thought you would never ask, my lord.”
“Gentlemen,” he said to the other men.
“It was such a pleasure meeting each of you. I do hope Lord Erickson will not be my only partner tonight at the card table,” she simpered, almost making herself ill as she did it. How is it women do this all their lives? I am not certain I will be able to make it through one evening, she thought. Disgust caused her stomach to churn. Remember your end goal—a husband and children. She was beginning to regret that goal.
She looked around the room as Lord Erickson led her to one of the tables. She garnered curious glances as well as angry glares. Circe did her best to ignore them as he sat her at a table with another couple. Lord Erickson introduced her to the man and woman before taking his seat across from her. As they played, she became frustrated with his card playing skills. He, evidently, believed himself to be a wonderful player, but kept throwing down cards that negated hers, causing them precious points. While it should not matter to her, after all it was simply a game, she found it irritated her considerably. When the game ended, with them losing by a considerable amount, Circe pushed back her chair and stood.
“Please excuse me.”
“Allow me to escort you, Miss Hayhurst,” Lord Erickson quickly got to his feet as did the other gentleman.
“That is all right, my lord. I am going to seek out the lady’s retiring room.”
“Oh, of course.”
“I believe I will accompany you, if you don’t mind,” Victoria Todd, the other young lady who had made up their foursome at cards said.
“Of course not. I would enjoy the company,” Circe replied. They left the men behind as they walked off.
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