Love's Fiery Jewel (59 page)

Walking boldly past the guards at the entrance,
Damien stepped into the open air at last, stopping to
take a deep breath as he turned with a smile. "Freedom
smells good, Hiram. I had not realized how truly good
until now."

Looking at his friend with a raised brow, Hiram said in
an almost undistinguishable voice, "Yes, it smells far
better than you do right now, I'm afraid. I think the first
order of business will be a bath and a change of clothes,
Damien."

"Yes, my friend, I heartily agree," Damien responded
with a small frown. "A bath, a change of clothes, a good
meal and..."

"And you'll leave the island as soon as possible. I have
already instructed water and provisions be delivered to
your ship. The Sally can be loaded within a few hours, and I do not believe your men will balk at sailing so
quickly. I think I can safely assume they have had
enough of Jamaica for a long time to come."

"No, Hiram, the Sally will not sail for a few days. The
men need a little time, and I must finish some very
important business."

"Damien, are you insane? You must leave this place as
soon as possible!"

Turning a steely-eyed glance in his direction, Damien
said firmly, "No, Hiram. There is something I must do
first. I will not leave Kingston until it's done. That is my
final word."

His expression firm and unbending, Damien assessed
the middle-aged man before him. Like the room in which
he was standing, the man was obviously deteriorating
with age. His thin, none-too-clean gray hair was
unkempt, a heavy paunch hung over britches that had
seen better days, the creased skin of his face was mottled
and blotchy, silent testimony to many hours spent deep
in his cups. But the rheumy eyes were alert as they
openly assessed him.

"I must admit it is a handsome price you offer, Captain
Straith, but I don't believe I wish to sell at any price.
There are definite reasons why this one in particular is
valuable to me. I do admit to being curious, however.
Won't you tell me why the captain of a merchant ship has
come all this way to purchase one of my field slaves?"

"My reasons are personal, Mr. Conway, but my money
is good. I know you are well aware that you can easily buy
two field slaves with the amount of money I'm offering
you for this particular Negro."

"Yes, Captain Straith...and that is what is so
curious..."

Turning at a sound at the entrance to the room, Percy
Conway raised his voice in a brief command. "Come in here, Raymond. There is a gentleman here who is
interested in buying you."

His eyes quickly following Conway's glance, Damien
looked assessingly at the tall black man as he shuffled
forward. The eyes moving momentarily to his were sharp
and intelligent, the shuffling step obviously assumed for
his benefit, judging from the muscular tone of the man's
broad frame which indicated an excellent physical
condition and immense strength. He obviously did not
want to be sold from the plantation. But Damien was
determined to have him.

"I don't intend answering any of your questions,
Conway, and I have little time to waste in bargaining. I'll
double the price I've already offered." Watching closely
as the bloodshot eyes blinked with surprise, Damien said
impatiently, "Alright, Conway. What's your answer?"

"I think I shall have to..."

"No!" A shrieking voice interrupted Conway's slow
response, turning all eyes in its direction as Quasheba
raged into the room, her black eyes flashing. "Massa
promise Quasheba have Raymond! Raymond belong t'
Quasheba, `n Massa not gowan sell Raymond t' any
backra dat come here wid him money!"

"Be quiet, Quasheba!" Conway's face flushed with
anger, he looked warningly in her direction. "Be quiet
this minute or..."

"Quasheba not be quiet! Raymond belong t' Quasheba! Dis white man not gowan..."

"You have said enough, Quasheba!" Raising his hand,
Conway slapped the enraged Negress full across the face,
knocking her backward against the chair as he moved to
stand over her. "No! Don't get up or I'll knock you down
again!" he hissed as she began to rise.

Turning back to Damien, Conway made a valiant
attempt to control the fury that shook his obese body. "I
was about to say I would not sell at any price, Captain, but my mind has been very effectively changed for me."

"No! Massa not gowan sell Raymond!" Making a quick
attempt to get to her feet, Quasheba's movement was
quelled by Conway's sharp command as he turned again
in her direction.

"I will not warn you again, Quasheba! Stay on the
floor where you are and don't say another word!"

Hesitating as the Negress slowly cringed under his
intense stare, Conway then walked quickly to his desk.
Rifling impatiently through the drawers, he finally
pulled out the paper he sought, and dipping the quill into
the ink, scribbled across its surface. Turning, he walked
directly to Damien.

"As I said before, Captain, my mind has been very
effectively changed for me." Holding out the paper in his
hand, he continued in a controlled voice. "The transfer
paper, Captain."

Slowly taking the document extended to him, Damien
counted out the money in its place. "Our bargain is
sealed, Mr. Conway. Good day."

Sparing only a short glance for the tall Negro standing
watchfully in the center of the room, Damien said curtly,
"You belong to me now, Raymond. Follow me. It's time
to leave."

Falling in behind as Damien walked out of the room,
Raymond shot only the briefest glance to the quivering
Negress where she still sat on the floor. A small sneer
crossing his lips, his heart warmed as Quasheba slipped
out of his sight for the last time.

More excited than she cared to reveal, Amethyst
walked briskly down the State House corridor. Her
brown velvet cape streaming out behind her revealed the
gold velvet of her gown. Absentmindedly pushing back
the hood that covered her brilliant tresses, she revealed a
lining in the same glowing color, a subtle trademark of Madame duMaurier's artistry. Several ensembles had
arrived at Armand's residence, marked for her within the
past few weeks. Startled, Amethyst had questioned
Armand about the extravagant purchases.

"Cherie, your wardrobe is decidedly inadequate, is it'
not?"

Having brought only a limited change of winter
clothing with her for her return from Jamaica, Amethyst's wardrobe consisted of four day gowns, limited
underwear, and one pair of sturdy shoes, in addition to
the otter-lined cape that had served her well since her
arrival. The extensive wardrobe Damien had purchased
for her was still in his house on Chestnut Street, but she
did not consider that clothing her property any longer.
After all, the clothing had been bought for Damien's
mistress, and since she no longer held that position, she
had merely struck them from her mind. But raising her
chin to a stubborn tilt, she had answered challengingly,
"I believe my wardrobe will serve my needs very well,
Armand. I have no need for such elaborate ensembles as
have arrived today. As lovely as I must admit they are, I
also must request that you send them back to Madame
with my regrets."

"Ali, cherie, so you intend to punish me..."

"Punish you?" Momentarily startled by his response,
Amethyst had slowly perused the Frenchman's hurt
expression. "Punish you, Armand? I'm afraid I don't
understand what you mean."

"If you will not accept these meager offerings, ma
petite, and claim your needs are adequately served, then
that would serve to say you do not intend to accompany
me in public on our free evenings."

Hesitating briefly as Armand studied her expression,
Amethyst had said uncertainly, "Armand, I truly did not
think you would want ...I mean, I didn't think it wise to
be seen ...Oh, I don't really know what I mean, Armand, except that it would be decidedly awkward for
you and me to be seen together, would it not? After all,
just a few months ago I was introduced into this same
society as Damien Straith's ward. A short time later, my
position changed to that of Damien Straith's fiancee, and
all too brief a period after that anyone but a blind man
knew full well that I was his mistress."

"And now you have returned to Philadelphia, ma
petite, and you are my house guest."

"Ali, I can see the eyebrows rise over that one!"
Amethyst said under her breath with a small shake of her
head.

"But it is true, nevertheless, cherie, and I will not have
suspicious minds influence my behavior."

"But is it necessary to flaunt my position in front of
the very people who only a few months ago..."

"Cherie, you misunderstand me. I do not intend
dragging you from party to party on my arm as if
displaying my latest acquisition. Nothing was further
from my mind, mon amour. Surely you realize that."

"I'm afraid I'm confused, Armand. I truly don't know
what..."

His expression softening, Armand had taken Amethyst's small face between his palms as he said softly,
"These two weeks that you have spent in my house have
been good, have they not, cherie?"

Nodding lightly, Amethyst had responded in a soft
voice, "Yes, they have, Armand." She had not told him
of the nights she had lain awake in her lonely bed,
despising herself as her mind returned to Damien again
and again, remembering the touch of his hands, the
warmth of his strong body against hers, her longing for
him so deep and acute that she felt she would expire from
the endless ache inside her. Only Armand's warm
presence relieved the dilemma of knowing she loved a
man whose reliance on black magic had brought her to him, and possibly still held her within its grasp ...a man
she could not trust with her future and the future of their
child. But, yes, the time spent with Armand had helped
soothe the ache. Nodding her head she said again, "Yes,
Armand, the time spent with you has been good."

"That is all I ask, cherie. I should like to attend a
musicale being performed this Friday, and your presence
beside me would give me much pleasure."

"Armand, do you not think one of your mistresses
would better accompany you? I mean, do they not feel
neglected...?"

"Cherie, is it truly in your heart to punish me for my
past relationships?"

"Oh, no, Armand, please believe me. I had no such
intention. I merely thought..."

"Then think no more, ma petite. Those relationships
are past. We will not speak of them again."

A small frown covering her delicate brow, Amethyst
responded soberly, "My residence here is only temporary, Armand. That was our understanding from the
beginning."

A light smile moving across his lips, Armand
responded, "My mind understands completely, cherie,
but my heart does not listen when it speaks." Bending his
head to kiss her lips lightly, Armand released her face to
continue in a stronger voice, "Will you accompany me to
the musicale, Amethyst? I would not enjoy the music
without you."

Noting his obvious sincerity, Amethyst could no
longer hold out against his entreaty. "Yes, Armand, I
would very much enjoy accompanying you. Perhaps I
have dwelled too long on my problems."

"Bon! In that case, cherie, you must accept the gowns
as suitable attire for the occasions when you will do me
the honor of accompanying me..."

"But I cannot!"

A small sigh of exasperation passing his lips, Armand's
voice began to tinge with impatience. "If you insist,
cherie, I will make a proper accounting of the cost and
you may pay me back sometime in the future. Does that
meet with your agreement?"

Her mind working feverishly, Amethyst had considered his suggestion for a few long moments. Armand
was right. And should John Henry be successful in
having the anti-theater legislation reversed, she would
need suitable attire when she assumed her place in the
troupe. Lifting her eyes to his, Amethyst offered at last,
"Yes, Armand, that does seem fine to me."

Vastly relieved, Armand had smiled broadly, his darkly
handsome face lighting with pleasure. "Cherie, I can see
I was very wrong about one thing at least in my
estimation of you."

"And what was that, Armand?"

"Ma petite, you do indeed drive a very hard bargain."

A smile finally breaking across her own lips, Amethyst
had responded with a quick, spontaneous hug that had
set wings to his heart, "Oh, Armand, you truly are a dear
fellow."

The clicking tempo of her heels echoing in the empty
corridor as she hastened her pace, Amethyst turned to
shoot an impatient glance over her shoulder as she called
softly to the tall mulatto woman who maintained a steady
pace behind her, "Tillie, must you lag behind so? I told
Mr. Peale that I would come to view his work at eleven
o'clock, and it's already a few minutes past the hour!
Armand will be here to meet me at twelve and I should
like to have ample time to study Mr. Peale's work."

"Tillie walking as fast as him feet will carry him,
Amethyst, and Tillie not go wan push him feet any
harder."

The light, cocoa-colored face was set in an adamant expression that Amethyst knew only too well, and
shaking her head with exasperation, Amethyst continued
her brisk step.

Word had just reached American shores that the
definitive Treaty of Peace had been signed in Paris in
December. In celebration of the momentous event, the
Philadelphia Executive Council planned a magnificent
parade to be held one week after the treaty was ratified by
Congress and commissioned Charles Wilson Peale, the
same artist commissioned to do the official portrait of
George Washington, to design and construct a glorious
temporary structure that would serve as a brilliant
commencement to the grand celebration. Having met the
slight, pale artist a week previous, Amethyst had been
extremely enthusiastic when he had invited her to view
the work presently in progress for the display. Turning to
Armand for guidance, she had been quick to sense his
approval, and accepted with an eagerness that was
refreshing to the dedicated painter. Having been directed
to the room in the State House turned over to Peale as his
painting studio, Amethyst turned another corner and
approached the designated door. Taking a brief moment
to regain her composure, Amethyst then raised her hand
to knock lightly, her heart quickening at the prompt
invitation to enter. Suddenly behind her as she opened
the door, Tillie entered in her wake, her dark eyes
mirroring the amazement reflected in Amethyst's as she
viewed the brilliant transparencies already completed.