Emily's Song

by Christine Marciniak

  Yeah. Maybe if she were in some action movie or was the least bit nimble. She’d never even been able to touch her toes in gym class. And forget yoga positions. How had she managed to get herself in this situation anyway? Where had she gone wrong? Was it so dangerous to walk around outside by herself? Apparently it was. Okay. Think. What did he want from her?

  Probably rape. Or perhaps he wanted to whip her some more in retaliation for Sam’s punishing him for whipping her in the first place. Though that seemed like a no-win for him. If Sam were to find out, which she would make sure he did, then Wilkins would be in even more trouble. And in either of those situations, why had he left her here like this? That made no sense.

  She noticed a canvas sheet in the corner hiding something. Was it the stolen goods? Maybe she could inch herself over there and find out, but before she’d managed to scoot herself more than a foot across the floor the door opened.

  Wilkins entered, pushing ahead of him a small black girl, maybe five years old.

  “Comfortable, I trust.” He sneered at her, and evil seemed to glow in his beady eyes.

  Since she couldn’t answer with the gag in her mouth, she just glared at him.

  The child trembled, and Emily wanted to reach out and hug her and assure her it would be okay. Though, honestly she wasn’t sure at all, and she would rather like it if someone would offer her those reassurances. If she’d been able to, she would have beckoned the child to come sit by her and said some comforting words. She hoped that the look in her eyes would comfort the child somewhat.

  “You’re a compassionate woman, aren’t you?” Wilkins asked Emily.

  She nodded, not at all sure where this was going.

  “And you wouldn’t want anything to happen to young Dolly here, would you?”

  She shook her head, but a sick feeling crept into her stomach.

  “Marshall will pay for humiliating me.” Wilkins mouth twisted up into an evil smile. “And you are going to help.”

  She must have moved her head even though she hadn’t meant to, because his face had that awful sneer again. “Oh, yes. You will. Because if you don’t help me, then this child will be punished. I may not be able to whip you with impunity, but I can do whatever I want to her.”

  He was serious. He was freaking serious. This man was a monster and a sadist and all kinds of bad things, and she had to sit here and listen to him because she was so damned trussed up she had no choice. He walked toward her, and she tried to back away from him, but there was nowhere for her to go. He pulled the gag from her mouth.

  “Am I making myself clear?” he murmured menacingly into her ear.

  She choked on her own spit before she could answer. “Yes. Untie me.”

  “Before I do,” he said. “I want to make one thing clear. You are in my power.”

  She was not now nor would she ever be in anyone’s power. He could hurt her, but he had no power over her.

  “I can and will do anything I want to you, and if you tell Marshall one word of it then this girl gets whipped.”

  Emily’s heart lurched. The child. No. She was powerless to stop this. No. She wasn’t. She would not give in to this. There had to be a way out. She would find a way to tell Sam. She would take the child under her personal protection. Everything would be okay.

  She would not let him get away with this, but for now she agreed. Arguing with him would only prolong everyone’s agony. “Fine,” she said. “I understand. Untie me.”

  “Not yet. Let’s test your resolve.”

  She did not like the sound of that at all. He moved his face close to hers and she pulled back, repulsed by everything about him.

  “That’s not being very agreeable.” He straightened up and slapped the little girl in the face so hard that she fell over, clasping her hand to her cheek and sobbing quietly.

  “Don’t do that!” Emily shouted, straining at her ties. As if anger alone could free her.

  “Then don’t fight me,” he snarled like a rabid dog, approaching her once again.

  Emily took a steadying breath. She would not fight. She would be as passive as possible so this child would not get hurt on her behalf. Wilkins kissed her, and she didn’t resist. Although it was hard not to gag when he pushed his tongue between his lips. When his finger traced the curve of her breasts, she didn’t let herself move an inch. How much was she going to have to endure with this poor child watching?

  And then as suddenly as it had all started, it stopped. Wilkins stopped kissing her. He untied her hands and untied her feet, and even offered her a hand up to get her back to her feet.

  “Very good.” He looked inordinately proud of himself and she had to resist the urge to punch him in the face. “You understand the terms of our agreement. I can call on you at any time, day or night, to continue what we’ve started here. And I won’t refrain from punishing Dolly if you don’t comply.” He moved his mouth close to her ear, and she tried not to wince. “Keep in mind, that if you find some way to protect Dolly, I can choose another pickaninny. There are plenty of them. Oh, and one more thing, if you think I won’t know if you’ve spoken to Marshall about this or not, I’ve got spies everywhere. Any private conversation and I’m going to assume you’ve told and start the punishments.”

  His words hit her like a sucker punch to the stomach. Every out she had thought of for herself, he had an answer for. But when it came right down to it, Sam was in charge here, and he could put a stop to this, as long as he stopped it before anyone, like Dolly, got hurt.

  “I won’t say anything,” she lied. She wanted to go directly to Sam and tell him everything, but the risk to Dolly was too great. If only the pond would finally take her home. Everyone would be safe then.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sam

  The mantel clock in the study chimed eight, and Sam glanced at it startled, he’d no idea so much time had passed. He placed his pipe on its mahogany stand. It had gone out while they’d talked anyway.

  “We’ve been most neglectful of Miss Parks.” How could he have left her on her own that long? He knew it was unacceptable as a host, but the afternoon had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He didn’t know how to handle being alone with her again. So, shamefully, he’d left her to her own devices while he’d smoked and drank with George. There was no excuse for it, and now he had to face the music.

  “And I must be on my way.” George stood and stretched. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning, and we’ll ride into town.”

  “We’ll take the carriage.” Sam turned down the gaslight on the desk.

  “Why? It’s much more convenient to ride.”

  Sam cleared his throat, not sure what George would make of what he had to say next. “Yes, but I’m taking Miss Parks into town to have some dresses made up.”

  “So, she’s staying, is she?” George crossed his arms and studied him, one eyebrow quirked.

  “For the time being.” She had nowhere else to go. It would be ungentlemanly to turn her out. “Which is another reason I can’t be lax on my hospitality.”

  “Should I stay and chaperon?”

  Sam wasn’t entirely certain his friend was joking.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He walked George to the front door and then headed to the parlor to see if Emily needed anything. Perhaps he should bring a glass of brandy, was the evening cool enough for that? Was it too forward of him? Considering what had happened this afternoon could anything be considered too forward?

  He expected to see her sitting in the big chair by the fire, or perhaps the davenport, but the room was empty. Tobias, as always, was near at hand. “You don’t happen to know where Miss Parks is, do you?”

  “No, sir.” Tobias shook his head as he answered. Of course he didn’t, Sam realized, he’d been in the study with him and George, refilling their drinks as needed. “Can I say, though, Mister Sam, that Mr. Phelps is right. You should have a chaperon here if Miss Parks is going to stay. It’s not right.”

  Sam frowne
d at him but knew he was right. It would be cause for scandal in the neighborhood if it were discovered, but he didn’t particularly care, and he suspected Emily wouldn’t either. His mother, on the other hand, would be livid if word got back to her.

  “Especially after what happened by the pond this afternoon,” Tobias continued.

  Sam gave him a sharp look. “What did you see?”

  “Enough,” Tobias answered.

  Damn. That was all he needed.

  “Anyone else?”

  “Not as far I as I know.”

  “And you’ll, of course, keep your observations to yourself.” It came out sounding much more like an order than a request to a friend.

  Tobias bowed his head slightly. “Of course, sir.”

  Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Perhaps I should wire my sister to come back. That would provide sufficient chaperonage, don’t you think?”

  “I think that would be fine, sir,” Tobias answered.

  Sam rubbed his chin. “First things first. I need to find her. Can you send Beck to me? Perhaps Miss Parks has retired for the night.”

  It didn’t seem likely, eight o’clock wasn’t that late.

  Beck came to him and the worried look on her face did nothing to put his mind at ease.

  “Do you know where Miss Parks is?” He tried not to let panic seep into his voice, but if Emily wasn’t where he’d left her, where might she be? That was the problem. She could be anywhere. She could be gone. For good. That didn’t bear thinking about. “Has she retired for the evening?”

  “She has not.” The girl looked at her feet as she answered. “I haven’t seen her either. I was hoping she was with you, sir. If you don’t mind me saying so, sometimes I think she needs a bit of extra help managing things.”

  He looked at Beck sharply. What did the girl know? Would Emily have confided in her about her unusual situation? Quite possibly. Would Beck be one of those slaves trying to get free using the magic words? Also quite possible. He said the words over to himself again to make sure he remembered them. “Lorska la loon romp leet le tong, Fair John, A March ee sur lee face der lumier, a un otre mo mant.”

  If he could only figure out what they meant then maybe everything would be clear. It certainly wasn’t clear now.

  For that matter, would Emily have tried again tonight? Had Beck told her the magic words? Would she have left without saying goodbye? He hated to think so, but perhaps everything that happened this afternoon was too much for her and she didn’t want to see him again.

  “Perhaps you should look by the pond, sir,” Beck said, daring to look him in the eye.

  “My thoughts exactly,” he answered, not worrying about the deference that should exist between master and servant. He headed outside and managed not to break into a run until he was out of sight of the maid

  But Emily wasn’t by the pond. He looked into the dark water, but there was no sign that she had thrown herself in. Would there be a sign? Could she simply be gone? Gone as quickly as she had come? And if she was? Then what? He still knew he didn’t love Dinah enough to marry her. But should he simply go through with it anyway, because everyone expected it? No. It wouldn’t be fair to Dinah and that was the truth.

  Maybe he wasn’t destined to know love, real love, in any more than fleeting glimpses. It wasn’t the future he wanted for himself, but he was going off to war and that wasn’t the future he wanted either.

  He headed toward the stable, out of habit. Even when a boy he would go to the stable to sort out his problems. If Moses couldn’t solve them, just being near the horses, petting them, feeding them, often made him calmer. He repeated the magic words again, softly, under his breath, “Lorska la loon romp leet le tong, Fair John, A March ee sur lee face der lumier, a un otre mo mant” What meaning did they hold?

  The horses were all stabled. Some were munching on hay, some sleeping. Moses, done with his work for the day, was either down by the slave cabins or asleep in the loft. Sam breathed in the earthy scent of the horses. Then he heard a sound that was different than the horses chewing or shuffling in their stalls. It was the sound of a child crying. He struck a match and lit the lantern hanging by the barn door and took it in hand, searching the hidden corners of the barn that he knew so well from his own childhood.

  He found the child in an empty stall, nestled in the hay and tears running freely down her cheeks. “Hello, there,” he said quietly, so as not to frighten or distress the child further. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Oh, sir, I can’t be talking to you. I’ll get whipped for sure.” Her voice was so quiet and tremulous he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

  He squatted near the child. She was about five or six. “Dolly, is it?” he asked.

  “Yes sir.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Sam handed her a handkerchief, and she looked at it as if it were spun gold.

  “It’s okay,” he said, fighting the urge to smile at her hesitancy. “You can use it to wipe your nose.”

  “Oh, no sir.” She handed it back. “It’s too good.”

  “It’s what it’s for.” He nodded encouragingly until she used the handkerchief in such a delicate manner that he wasn’t sure it did any good at all. “Now, tell me, who is going to whip you?”

  “Wilkins, sir. He’s a bad man. If he knows I’m talking to you, he’ll whip me for sure.”

  “Why?” Why on earth would the overseer have such a rule in place for such a small child? Or for anyone? This was his plantation, these were his people, he of course could talk to anyone he pleased, but why should they be afraid of repercussions?

  “It’s because of the lady, sir,” the child said, her voice stronger and more certain now, perhaps since lightning bolts did not strike when she spoke to her master. “If she tells what happened, Wilkins will beat me for sure. He already hit me once. And if I tell, I’m sure I’ll get hit.”

  He wanted to ask what happened, the words were on the tip of his tongue, nearly falling out of his mouth, but if the child were afraid she was going to get beat for telling him, it wasn’t fair to her to ask her outright, it would only scare her more.

  “Come inside with me. He stood up and held out a hand to the child. “Wilkins will not hurt you.”

  “He’ll hurt someone else if I’m safe. That’s what he told the lady.”

  “What lady?” He had a strong suspicion that he knew.

  “I don’t know her name, sir. She’s new around here.”

  Emily. Definitely Emily.

  “Come inside with me, Dolly. No one will hurt you. I’ll see to that.”

  “But what about my little sister? Maybe she’ll be hurt instead. I better stay here and not talk to you anymore.”

  “No one will get hurt,” Sam assured her. With the possible exception of Wilkins.

  Reluctantly he got the child out of the hay and brought her into the house. There he sat her in a chair in the dining room and had Sally bring her a large glass of milk.

  “What’s Dolly doin’ in here? She pestering you? I’m training her to be a house slave, but she’s too young to do much but peel potatoes yet.”

  “She’s not pestering me.” Sam put a reassuring hand on Sally’s arm. “I brought her in here so I can speak with her.”

  He sat down opposite the little girl. “What did the man do to the lady?”

  Dolly looked left, right, up, and down, as if both hoping for an escape and to see if anyone would see her talking to the master. “He kissed her,” she whispered.

  Sam’s back stiffened. Kissed her?

  “And then he untied her and told her if she told you about it he’d whip me.” She put her hand up to her face, and Sam could see the darker outline of a bruise on her cheek.

  “Untied her?” Sam nearly jumped out of his chair, but he gripped the edge of the table and forced himself to remain calm. He needed to get the whole story “He had her tied up?”

  “Yes, sir. Please don’t tell him I told. I don�
��t want to get whipped.”

  “I won’t tell him you told me anything.” The anger nearly burst out of him, but he had to remain calm in front of the child. He had known he couldn’t trust Wilkins, but he’d left him in place anyway, and now the man had abused his guest and his slaves. He’d have none of it.

  Sally hovered in the doorway, her face thunderous with anger, and Sam turned to her. “Can you find this child a place to sleep somewhere in the house for tonight, please. I do not want her going back to the cabins.”

  “I’ll keep her safe. She will stay with me in my alcove tonight.”

  “Good.”

  “What you going to do about Wilkins?” Sally asked, her look challenging him to get it right, even as she took Dolly by the hand and started to lead her off.

  “First I need to find Emily and see if she’s safe. As for Wilkins, he’ll be lucky if I don’t kill him.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emily

  Emily rocked back and forth on the bench tucked away in the rose garden, hugging her arms around her and waiting for the panic and nausea to subside. When Wilkins had freed her, she’d grabbed Dolly’s hand and run from the cabin. She’d gotten as far as the rose garden when the child broke free from her grasp and ran off on her own. Emily hadn’t pursued her but instead found the bench and collapsed onto it. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, but the sun had fully set, and she was stiff and cold, and still she had no plan.

  Sam had to know, but she couldn’t risk telling him. Not yet, not until she knew Dolly and the other children wouldn’t suffer.