Promise Bridge Part 13

Our tension gave way to giggles, releasing the pressure of the last few days. We were aware of how different the outcome could have been if Livie had been caught away from the plantation. So we found extra pleasure in our blessed reunion. All the while, the thought of Marcus tugged at the back of my mind. I ached to tell Livie her brother was alive, and confide in her about our interaction in the cave. However, just as friends can disagree and make mistakes, friends can also protect. Therefore, I decided to abide by Marcus's wish of not telling her about his visit. I eased my guilt by praying twice as fervently for his safe and swift return. But Livie deserved more. I also wanted to give her hope to hang on to now that I knew Marcus was alive. I retrieved his neckerchief hidden in my wardrobe closet and pressed it gently in her hand.

"Where did you find this? I thought the river stole it from me."

"I found it on the riverbank the night you swam off."

Livie touched it to her face and breathed in the scent of her brother.

"He will come back, Liv. I believe with all my heart and soul that Marcus will return for you before summer has come and gone." The half-truth pained me, but the smile my words brought to her face gave me peace.

Livie and I settled into our normal routine by evening. I joined Aunt Augusta for supper. As was my expectation, she did not comment on my scarcity over the last few days, nor did she seem to care. Her detachment was a stroke of good fortune with regard to Livie. Aunt Augusta did not give her a second glance when she came to collect the dishes.

"Colonel Richards arranged for his cousin to come for an extended visit for the remainder of the winter months. He arrived yesterday, and after a few days with the colonel, he will come to stay with us while he tutors you in the French language."

I set my teacup down and huffed. "I am no longer a child, Aunt Augusta. Perhaps you should consult with me before making arrangements on my behalf."

"What has gotten into you Hannalore? I have indulged your independent streak of late, but I caution you not to push me too far."

I pouted as a way of not giving in completely to her, but some battles were not worth fighting. At the very least, it would pa.s.s the hours until spring. The winter months were dreary and unending, so between the quilting and French lessons, hopefully the days that stretched toward spring would pa.s.s quickly.

I retired with Livie to my room. Not having slept the previous night, I looked forward to slipping on my nightgown and crawling under the covers. Livie busied herself with straightening and dusting the room. I told her not to bother, because it had been a long day for both of us. I sensed her stalling. I was pleasantly surprised when she got on her knees and pulled out the trundle bed.

"Can I sleep here with you tonight?"

"Of course, Livie." I crawled down to sit next to her. "I love when you stay with me, talking late into the night like sisters. Living in the cabin was your idea."

"It's good fo' me to be amongst my own. The folk in the Run is family to me now, but with Fatima gone, the cabin is a mite lonesome. It be different when James is back." Livie scrunched her face in bashful grin. "James has been visitin' me in my cabin at night."

"Livie!" I squealed, both embarra.s.sed and excited. "How long has this been going on?"

"Started durin' Big Times. We been growin' close and feelin' special."

"I knew it," I giggled. "I told Mar-" I choked and coughed to cover the slip of the tongue that almost had me speaking Marcus's name.

Livie patted me on the back and eyed me curiously. "You all right?"

"Yes, yes, I am fine," I said, clearing my throat. "What I was trying to say was, I told myself you have been looking quite smitten with James."

"He asked me to be his wife." Livie's smile was broad and proud. "I nearly scared the life out o' him when I showed up at the Henderson plantation. He said, 'Livetta, I don't know what's gonna come o' this, but the notion of losin' you makes my heart start hurtin' awful, so if we gets out o' this alive, I'm taking you fo' my wife if you want me fo' your husband.' He is gonna ask Ma.s.sa Reynolds fo' his say-so when he gets back." Livie reached over and took my hands. "And I is askin' fo' your say-so now. Can James and me jump the broom?"

"You do not need to ask for my permission," I gushed. "But you have my wholehearted blessing. I am so happy for you, Livie." I gave her a hug and rested my head on her shoulder. We had truly become women, she and I, with the wants and desires of women. "What is it like, Livie?"

"What?"

"Being with a man."

Livie gasped at my forthright question, then covered her face with bashful hesitation. When she lowered her hands, her face gleamed with contentment. "I thought it would be strange," she sighed. "From the time I was knee-high, it was a fearful thing the ma.s.sa could force onto you. But when lovin' is between you, it makes you feel alive and a part o' each other. Like you is givin' each other something of yo'self that no one else can have. Words 'tain't big enough to describe it. You won't rightly understand it till you feel the fire." Livie yawned and leaned back against the bed as her exhaustion finally caught up with her.

I had hoped Livie's step into womanhood would bring some clarity to my own conflicting emotions. However, it only raised more questions. The joy in having her back at my side lifted my worries and inspired me to seek similar contentment for her.

Tomorrow, I will speak to Uncle Mooney about coupling James and Livie. Even if he makes me crawl on my knees and beg, I shall gladly do it for the sake of my friend's happiness.

Chapter 21.

"Out of the question," Uncle Mooney grumbled, shoveling his b.u.t.tered grits into his mouth. "I will not pair my prime buck with one of your stock. I have perfectly good breeders of my prime own."

"Hear me out, Mooney, before you dig in your heels." Aunt Augusta was cool and calculating in her presentation. I was surprised at her interest in Livie's desire to marry James, especially when she offered to accompany me and speak on my behalf in securing permission from Uncle Mooney. Now her motive was revealed. There was investment to be gained and negotiated. Both of them were greedy to the bone. However, having Aunt Augusta in my corner was definitely to my advantage, so I let her speak. My only concern was finding a way for James and Livie to be together.

"We all know you have attempted to couple James a number of times over the years, to no avail. You beat and punish him each time the coupling proves miserable and childless. I have never witnessed a slave go through the silly ritual of jumping over the broom as often as he has, only to end up undoing it with a backward jump after a year's time. Each failed attempt has left him a little less content and more of a loner. He is of odd stock, and if not for the profit he generates for you with his skills, you would have put him on the block long ago." Augusta shook her head and laughed. "The money you make from me alone on surcharges for his service makes him worth his keep."

Uncle Mooney pushed away his empty plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "So, what is your point, Augusta? You are not telling me anything I don't already know. In fact, I took great pleasure in denying James's request when he came to me upon his return to the plantation this afternoon. I may not have whipped the stubbornness out of him, but I as sure as h.e.l.l will not reward it. Besides, what is the gain for me in allowing such an arrangement?"

"The gain will be in James's productivity and loyalty," she said, leaning forward to emphasize her words. "You and I have always disagreed on this point, but I believe it is to our benefit to maintain a slave's physical and emotional well-being. Contented and devoted slaves give more of themselves than those who are beaten and deprived."

Uncle Mooney waved his hand in disgust. "That's the woman in you talking. Your profits would double if you were not throwing away good money on extra clothing and food rations twice a year."

"Watch your tone, Mooney." Aunt Augusta was undaunted by his attempt to dismiss her. "We are family, as well as business partners, and this is a viable proposition. I believe you are the stubborn one in this scenario."

A patronizing grin curdled his face. He crossed his legs and leaned an elbow on the table, successfully disengaging Aunt Augusta and angling his attention to where I sat watching the banter between them.

"Why am I wasting my time arguing points of view with your aunt? You are the one I should be negotiating with, my dear. The wench belongs to you; therefore, it is our discussion."

He was smug and superior in his demeanor. I doubted he had an interest in what I had to say, but he enjoyed making me squirm for his approval. Denying me in the end would be his revenge for Fatima. I was not clever in the ways of business, so I simply spoke the truth.

"James and Livie love each other," I said evenly. "I want them to be happy."

Uncle Mooney exploded in laughter, spewing spittle, peppered with grits, through the air. "Augusta," he snorted, "how could a woman as intelligent and practical as you raise such a naive, foolish girl? She wants them to be happy. As if they feel love and attachment like you or I. Only the overactive imagination of a sheltered child would entertain such a notion."

He pinched my cheek with placating amus.e.m.e.nt. I pushed his hand away, my reserve replaced with contempt. I wanted to grab him by his muttonchops and yank the smirk off his face, but instead I remained composed and focused on the business at hand. Although he presented himself as disinterested, Uncle Mooney's posturing told me it was not hopeless. Once his laughter subsided, he stroked his chin and eyed me sideways.

"Since this means a great deal to you, and as Augusta says we are family, I shall offer you a generous compromise." He got up and walked to the window with his hands behind his back, seemingly mulling over a difficult decision. After a moment, he turned back to me, his arms folded in strategic defense.

"I shall grant the request for James and your wench to be paired as husband and wife on the condition that I retain rights and owners.h.i.+p of any offspring produced from the union."

"Don't be absurd," Aunt Augusta interjected, before the words barely left his lips. "As the mother goes, so goes the child. That is the way of it, Mooney. Owners.h.i.+p of the mother includes any forthcoming children."

"This is a business deal, Augusta," he said, removing parchment and steel-nib pen from the top drawer of a desk in the corner. "And these are my terms."

"Never!" Aunt Augusta huffed as Uncle Mooney dipped his pen into the inkwell and began writing. "You are strong-arming the child." Aunt Augusta's face was taut with distress, unmasking a vulnerability in her I had never seen. My instincts were keen enough to know that Uncle Mooney's cooperation was a ruse. The same instincts told me not to be moved by Aunt Augusta's alarm, because her motivation was no different from Uncle Mooney's. What they did not know was that none of it mattered. I did not legally own Livie, so any agreement I struck, on paper or otherwise, would be worthless. Therefore, his attempt at cleverness amused me.

"I am not strong-arming anyone. She is a grown woman who is capable of making decisions on her own behalf. Isn't that right, Hannalore?"

Uncle Mooney's manipulation was so transparent it was laughable. Was it my youth and inexperience, or simply the fact that I was a woman leading him to believe I was foolish enough to be swayed by his antics? I looked over at Aunt Augusta, who shook her head, commanding me to decline. Uncle Mooney, on the other hand, continued to charm me with words as sweet as sugar cubes used to coax an anxious colt back into the fold. However, I was not taking the bait.

"No," I stated firmly. "This is not a business arrangement. I simply want permission for James to marry Livie."

"Don't be so sentimental. Of course it's a business deal."

"I will allow them to share the back cabin on my property," Aunt Augusta counteroffered smoothly. "It is the cabin where Livetta is living now. We will provide James with food rations and clothing, as we do for the entirety of Mud Run. A good deal for you, Mooney, in that I will provide for James' needs while he and his earnings remain yours. He will continue to work between the two plantations as he does at present."

"Your cooperation and generosity are uncharacteristic, Augusta. There must be more you want from this arrangement."

"Since I will have financial investment in James, I think it appropriate for any offspring of the couple to remain in our possession. There is profit for both of us in such an agreement."

"Here is my final offer," he huffed in frustration. "And a compromise I will not negotiate. I will grant permission for the union and the living arrangements you describe. I will halve the charges you incur for James' service at your plantation. However, owners.h.i.+p of any children born of them will be split between us. I shall have rights and owners.h.i.+p to all male children, and you shall have rights to all female children."

"I would never agree to such an offer," Aunt Augusta snapped. "It's outrageous."

"The offer is being made to Hannalore," he said, smiling at me. "It is simply paperwork ensuring James' loyalty to me. They will all be living in Mud Run together as a family, no matter who holds the paper. I believe I am being quite generous. My dear, this is the only agreement I will consider. Accept it or refuse it, it matters not to me."

All I could think of was Livie's heartbreak should I return to tell her the union was forbidden. Aunt Augusta was right. The deal Uncle Mooney offered was unreasonable, but there was no doubt in my mind it was indeed the only arrangement he would allow. It gave him the upper hand over me, which avenged me having revealed his indiscretions with Fatima. He had no idea the paper he was drawing up was based on fict.i.tious owners.h.i.+p. If playing along with this formality satisfied him and opened the door for Livie's happiness, it was an easy decision. Still, even the pretense of bargaining away my best friend's children rolled heavily in my breast. It reminded me how far at odds I had become with a world where this practice was an everyday occurrence.

"I shall accept your offer," I stated confidently.

Not knowing the secret of Livie's owners.h.i.+p, Aunt Augusta gasped with disbelief. "Hannalore, I beg you to reconsider. It is a grave error in judgment."

Uncle Mooney pushed the paper toward me. "She is not your puppet, Augusta. In fact, she is better educated than you and I put together. Hannalore will leave here with the permission she came seeking. Her interests are served."

The contract was written exactly as he had stated. Confident the agreement was worthless by law, I dipped the nib of the pen in the inkwell and scribbled my name. When it was done, I looked to Aunt Augusta, expecting her icy eyes to pierce me in anger for disobeying her wishes. Instead, her head drooped to one side, but not before I saw her eyes flutter with the weight of moisture br.i.m.m.i.n.g across her lashes. Unfortunately, the ink dried quicker than the tears, and I instantly regretted my decision.

Chapter 22.

By the time our carriage rolled into the long shadows that stretched across the yard leading to our front porch, the sun was sinking behind us into the hollows of West Gate. Aunt Augusta remained silent on what had transpired. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead on the carriage ride back to Hillcrest. She ignored the hand Winston offered as she exited the carriage, and his stiffened knees broke into a hurried stride as he hobbled to reach the door of the house and open it for her without delay. Elijah came from the barn to secure the team until Winston returned. I then sent Elijah down the hill to summon James and Livie. I waited on the porch to announce the news. I expected Livie to shriek with joy when I told her she and James were to be married. However, my words were met with an anxious smile of relief.

"Aren't you thrilled, Liv?" I asked, somewhat baffled by her restrained reaction. "I believe I am more excited than you."

Livie reached for my hand and squeezed it tight. "I am as happy as fear allows me to be."

"Fear?"

"It's hard on a heart waitin' fo' someone else to decide what I can or can't have in my life. 'Specially when the bits of joy we carve out fo' ourselves can be s.n.a.t.c.hed away faster than a drop of rain soaked up by a dusty road."

"I would never allow anyone to hurt you," I rea.s.sured her.

"I know my heart is safe with you," Livie said with much trepidation. "But lovin' James gives Ma.s.sa Reynolds and Ma.r.s.e Twitch the means to whip and beat me. Not outright and physical, 'cuz Ma.s.sa don't hold my papers. But through my man's well-bein', my heart is at their mercy too."

I had never considered the ramifications and vulnerability the slaves endured with even the simplest and purest of life's gifts. The heart and thoughts of a slave are beyond a master's command, but they can be turned on them as cruel weapons through a.s.sault and denial, or in its worst form, instant and permanent separation. There is no dream of happily ever after in the quarters.

As quickly as her thoughts darkened, Livie's typical resolve returned. She lifted her chin and unleashed a smile. "That's the way of it." She shrugged. "There's no point broodin' over it. The way I sees it, James keeps both these plantations runnin' with the work he does in the blacksmith and carpenter shop. Ma.s.sa Reynolds makes a fine profit when he hires out James to other planters fo' a spell. Ma.s.sa ain't fool enough to do harm to James. We be fine."

James put his arm around her and pulled her tight. During the time of their acquaintance, I watched Livie mature into womanhood, while James shed his stoic sh.e.l.l and reconnected with the world around him. The embrace they shared reaffirmed my confidence in the intervention I made on their behalf. Happiness glowed from them. I saw no need to outline the meaningless details of the arrangement struck with Uncle Mooney. It would likely cause more anxiety and misunderstanding.

Livie released my hand and took James' elbow. "Do you mind if I walk back with James so we can tell the folks in the Run our good news? Nothin' like a weddin' to set the quarters abuzz."

I beamed with pleasure at the excitement taking hold of Livie. "Take all the time you need. In fact, it is not necessary to come back to the house tonight."

"I'll be up later." Livie smiled as she pressed a hand to her breast. "So I can hug you and thank you fo' makin' it possible fo' James and me to marry up. Can't do it proper out here in the open."

"Yas'sum, Miz Hannah," James said with an appreciative nod. "We is obliged fo' you softenin' Ma.s.sa Reynolds' opinion on the idea." They looked at each other with intimate tenderness, then walked away, the picture of contentment, as Livie leaned into James and rested her head on his shoulder.

The next day when news of the pending union spread through Mud Run, Aunt Augusta continued to distance herself from the activity. With only two weeks until the wedding, Granny Morgan gathered ribbon and bows for the traditional broomstick ceremony common in the slave quarters. As matriarchal leader of the Runians, Granny took great pride in overseeing such occasions, and although the act of jumping the broom was quick and simple, the meaning and celebration attached to it was revered.

The levity that enveloped the house and grounds was like a breath of fresh air, until a stranger appeared at Hillcrest, arriving in a polished plum brougham pulled by a sleek charcoal stallion. His arrival was unannounced, but Aunt Augusta summoned me to join her in the foyer, where she stood to greet the visitor as Winston opened the door. The stranger's cloak and hat were as sleek and dark as the horse snorting in the yard. He was a ruddy gentleman, perhaps a decade of age beyond me, with small, gla.s.sy eyes crowding the crest of a long, thin nose that was much too large for his face. His profile was punctuated by a sharp ridge that hooked the protrusion downward toward tight thin lips. The skin on his cheeks and chin was chafed and flaking, its reddened coa.r.s.eness a natural state not brought on by wind or winter exposure. The line of his face was reminiscent of a snapping turtle's snout, and his arrogant demeanor suggested he had the same vicious bite. It is amazing how quickly we can draw a conclusion about a person The stranger removed his oversized top hat and jerked his head forward in a stiff partial bow. "Madame Reynolds, it is indeed a pleasure."

Aunt Augusta took my elbow and guided me in his direction. "Monsieur Charbonneau, allow me to introduce to you my niece, Hannalore. She will be a conscientious student under your direction."

I paused before fully extending my hand. "Have we met previously, sir? Your name rings familiar."

"No, I have never had the pleasure," he said, reaching toward me. I flushed an equal mix of anger and embarra.s.sment as he eagerly took my hand and pressed his terse mouth to my flesh. "I come to you with great antic.i.p.ation, Mademoiselle Blessing. My dear cousin the colonel recommended you quite highly, and you are as magnifique magnifique as the portrait he painted in my mind." as the portrait he painted in my mind."

"Pardon me for my dismay, Monsieur Charbonneau," I said, retrieving my hand from his. "However, I am ambivalent in the matter of my education in the French language, since it was presented to me as a ch.o.r.e rather than a choice."

"Please call me Lamond," he said, looking about with an air of conceit. "My experience tells me that most young ladies are ill equipped to discern that education is a privilege. As a favor to my cousin, I cleared my schedule from now until the conclusion of the summer months, so I can not only share my expertise in the gentle lilt of the French language, but also partake in an extended respite in the quiet and simple way of life here in the Virginia hills."

"Monsieur Charbonneau will stay in the guest room during his sojourn with us," Aunt Augusta said with an arch of the eyebrow, cautioning me to mind my manners. "Winston, see that Monsieur Charbonneau's trunks are taken to his room so he can freshen up. Then direct Esther Mae to serve us tea in the parlor at half past the hour."

So with no regard to my opinion or objections, it was decreed that I was now the student of Monsieur Lamond Charbonneau. Surprisingly, it was not as burdensome as I had first feared. Lamond did not rise with the sun, as was the natural way for those accustomed to life on the plantation. He lumbered down the stairs well after Aunt Augusta and I had finished breakfast and moved on to other activities. I generally joined Tessie in the quilting room to st.i.tch squares until Lamond knocked on the door to signal me into the parlor for the day's lesson. By midweek it became our ritual, and although Esther Mae grumbled a time or two about Lamond and his "city folk" ways, it was a routine of little demand on me.

My lessons were interesting, but served no true purpose other than to add to my refinement. However, they filled a void in my day left by Livie's absence. As my personal attendant, Livie was usually at my side from sunup to sundown, except for when the ch.o.r.es of the household required her to a.s.sist Esther Mae. Although she would never ask it of me, I knew she would be grateful for some free time to ready her cabin for her soon-to-be husband. So in the days since the union was approved, Livie slipped away, with my encouragement, to attend to her private ch.o.r.es in Mud Run. Livie continued to come to my room just after dawn to fill my basin and help me dress, although the time was generally pa.s.sed with us chatting on my bed. When breakfast was served, Livie would leave without notice and often did not return until dusk. With a guest in the house, it was an easy charade to pa.s.s off on Aunt Augusta. Near the end of Lamond's first week at Hillcrest, Livie lingered longer with me during her morning visit.

"I don't need to go back down the hill today," Livie proclaimed as we settled at the foot of my bed. "Everything is fine and ready fo' James. He been workin' late into the night after his ch.o.r.es is done, buildin' a bed fit fo' two. Winston got say- so from Miz 'Gusta fo' some straw, so Esther Mae and me stuffed a fine mattress."

"One week from today, you will be a married woman." I took Livie's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Come with me. I have a surprise for you."

I led her to the door of the wardrobe and swung it wide, shedding light on the line of dresses that hung neatly within. "I want you to choose any dress and it will be yours, a gift from me."

Livie's eyes doubled in size, then moistened with emotion. "The likes o' me 'tain't fit fo' somethin' so fine."

I took her in my arms and squeezed her tight. "You are the finest woman I know, so do not ever talk like you are anything less than the best." Livie patted my back and allowed me a moment to cling to her. She may have sensed that amid my joy for her, I was also fearful our relations.h.i.+p would change as she created a family of her own. I stepped back with a gleeful clap of my hands.

"Now do as I ask, and choose any dress you like."

"Jes' makin' it possible fo' James and me to marry up is gift enough. No need fo' nothin' more." Livie hemmed and hawed while her eyes danced over the colors and styles spread before her.

"Don't be silly, Liv. I have given you dresses in the past."

"But they was everyday, in-and-out-the-house dresses. These are fanciful and special."