The Abolitionist’s Secret (6 page)

“I will look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” Now where did those words come from?

Charlotte studied her daughter over breakfast the next morning. “My dear, I’ve been so involved with Jasmine since last night that I have completely forgotten to question how your evening went. Obviously Halwyn got you home safely, but did you enjoy the rest of your evening?”

“Yes, despite Halwyn, I made it home. He thought it best to escort the doctor’s wife home instead, and left the lieutenant to see me to our door. It was definitely most improper.”

“My stars! Surely the lieutenant procured a cab for you and saw you to the house?”

“We walked home from the hotel.”

“Heather! You walked with a stranger through the streets of New York at night? Surely he knew better than to ask that of you.”

“It wasn’t his suggestion, Mother, it was mine. I wanted to discuss slavery with him, and figured the early morning hours were as good a time as any.”

Charlotte smiled. “And did you convince him that slavery is wrong?”

“I’m still trying to drive my point home. It’s a struggle to make him see slavery is immoral, because of his upbringing, but he is an intelligent man and I’m hopeful that his thoughts on the subject will turn now that he’s heard my point of view. He’s going to call on me this afternoon.”

Charlotte looked at her daughter, and then brushed a hand over Heather’s dark hair. “I see. So your evening turned out all right then. I was worried about leaving you there alone.”

“Yes, it turned out well, except I guess it was my one and only ball for the year.” Heather hesitated momentarily. “With Jasmine’s injury, my season has ended too.”

“Why would you think that? Just because Jasmine is done for the year doesn’t mean you are. No, I have spent too much time and energy, not to mention a considerable amount of your father’s money, on clothing for you and Jasmine. I’ll not have it all go to waste simply because one of you is injured. You’ll go through the season by yourself and you can make use of Jasmine’s dresses as well as your own. They’ll be out of style by next year when Jasmine will partake of her own season.”

“I don’t want to do that, Mother. You know Jasmine and I have always done everything together. It won’t be the same without her.”

“No, it won’t be the same, I’ll agree. But, it will probably be better for you, my dear. I know you let Jasmine take the lead most of the time, but now you will be forced into the limelight. I think it will be good for you.” Charlotte stood up from the table before she continued.

“I’ll admit, I’m a bit concerned about you having more to do with the lieutenant, but now that Jasmine is injured, it’s up to you and me to entertain him until he departs, even with our opposing views on slavery. Oh, how I wish I’d never invited him here.” She wrung her hands.

She gazed down at her daughter. “But he is a most handsome man, is he not?”

Heather looked at her mother. “I suppose he is. But what I like about him most is the odd things he has to say.”

“Exactly what does that mean?”

“He told me I’m more like Ginger than Jasmine. No one’s ever compared me to Ginger before.”

“Hmmm. I’d say he is a most astute young man. So, are you now going to become a follower of Amelia Bloomer, too?”

“I’ll leave Amelia to Ginger,” Heather said with a smile. “I think the person I most admire is George Downing and what he’s doing with the Underground Railroad. I think I’m becoming a true abolitionist.”

“Well, that won’t sit well with your young man.”

“He’s not ‘my young man,’ Mother. He’s just someone I can verbally spar with. I am rather enjoying that.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Charlotte replied with a secret smile. She knew when she met David the previous year that he was a good match for one of her daughters. The only sticking point was the issue of slavery. But when love bloomed between two people, such matters could be worked out, couldn’t they?

“So, Miss Fitzpatrick, where were we?” David sat in an upholstered chair and smiled over at Heather, who was on the narrow loveseat in the front parlor. Her mother had allowed her some privacy with the lieutenant, but the door to the room was kept open. The day dress Heather wore was quite simple, in contrast to the dress she’d been wearing the previous evening at the Cotillion. It was a green colored silk with three layers of flounces in the skirt, each one a slightly lighter shade. Ribbons of deep emerald were tied to the bottom two layers every six inches or so. The bodice was cut close to the body and the cuffs of the sleeves dripped with Maltese lace. David thought he had never seen a lovelier image.

“Well, as I recall, Lieutenant, we were discussing whether or not my season was coming to an end. I visited with Jasmine this morning at the hospital, and she’s still in considerable pain, but will be home tomorrow. We procured an extra maid to help us with the season. But, I think she’ll now be relegated to being a nursemaid for Jasmine. Her season is definitely done for the year. Poor thing. She’s talked of little else for the past twelve months, since Ginger went through it.”

“And what about your continued involvement in the festivities? Have they now been halted as well, as you thought they would be?”

“As you suspected, Mother has no intention of me ending my season. So, I’ll be going through it alone. A most frightening prospect, if I do say so.”

“If it will make things easier for you, I’ll be here for the next two weeks, and can be at your disposal, if you’d like.”

Heather stared at David. “Thank you, Lieutenant. You are the most accommodating man I’ve ever met. It would ease my mind a bit to know I can count on you. However, I don’t want to interfere with the real reason you’re in town. Have you made any headway on finding your runaway?”

“I should think, knowing your opinion that all slaves should be freed, you would welcome the opportunity to fill my days with your company, just to keep me from my true mission.”

Heather grinned slightly at his comment. “Since you put it that way, in the spirit of true abolition, I will plan to keep you quite busy while you remain in our city. But what of your slave?”

“The bounty hunters believe the darkie has made it out of New York City, so they’re searching upstate, hoping to catch up there.”

David’s eyes twinkled. “So, setting aside the whole slavery issue for right now, what topic would you like to discuss?”

“Tell me what life is like on the frontier. I’m so jealous of Ginger, being able to live there and experience everything first-hand.”

“I don’t live on the comfortable ranch that she does. I’ve spent my time there on a military base outside of St. Louis. It’s pretty stark living conditions, even for the married couples. And the base is set on a bluff overlooking the Missouri River, so it’s frightfully cold and windy in winter. But the true joy of being in the west comes when I get to leave the post, and ride out into the surrounding vast land. When I’m not looking over my shoulder for Indians, I stare in awe at the scenery. It’s breathtakingly beautiful.”

“Do you prefer it to Georgia?”

David fingered his hat as he pondered his answer. “I think I do. That’s what is making my decision about my future path so hard. I know I should return home to Savannah and ease my father’s burden of running the plantation. Yet I love my life in the west, even in the bleak and cold housing of the fort. It’s a difficult decision.”

“Duty to family or duty to country? Yes, I can see your dilemma.” Heather contemplated his situation and replied, “Yet if you were to free all your slaves and sell the plantation, your parents would be set financially for the rest of their lives, and you would be free to pursue your love of the military life, right?”

David smiled across the room. “You make it sound so simple. If I had no ties to the land in Georgia, I’d say your suggestion had merit. However, the land has been in our family for generations, and I can’t just sell it off. My forefathers are buried on that land. It’s where my roots are. I’d love for you to see it.”

Heather nervously wove her fingers into the folds of her dress. “Maybe, one day. But for now, why don’t you describe it to me? I’ll close my eyes and you paint a picture that I can visualize.”

David rose to his feet and paced the room as he talked. His hands sliced through the air as he began to describe his homestead. “Imagine a big white house sitting high on a hill. It’s built from stone but whitewashed to reflect the rays of the hot sun. At the front of the house are eight huge white pillars that extend all the way across, with a wide porch where we sit in the afternoon. The driveway leading up to the home is white as well, made from crushed oyster shells. On either side of the drive are magnolia trees, which bloom in the early spring. When the blooms drop, it’s like pink rain falling. There are fields of crops extending for hundreds of acres. We grow cotton and tobacco, and rotate them every couple of years, so as not to burn out the soil. The darkies like to sing as they labor, and their voices make a most melodious sound in the afternoon sun. It’s a good life.”

“I can almost see it,” Heather said softly while her eyes were still shut. “Where do the slaves live?”

“In shanties, which are tucked behind the stables. The shanties are usually a one-room house with a loft for sleeping. They are adequate and comfortable.”

“Sort of like living on a military base out west?” Heather’s eyes popped open and honed in on the pacing man.

He turned to face her. Then, he sat down beside her on the narrow loveseat, and took one of her hands in his. “Now that you mention it, I suppose it is like living on a military base. Although it gets mighty cold in Missouri, unlike the hot conditions in Georgia. I do envy the married officers at the fort, who have someone to help warm their beds at night.”

David boldly leaned in toward Heather. She sat, entranced, as his lips came closer to hers, until they were just a hair’s breath away.

“I thought you might be needing your tea refreshed, Miss Heather,” Colleen bustled into the room pushing a teacart. Heather and David broke apart before she looked up, but their hands were still intertwined. Colleen smiled as she placed the cart in the room and prepared to remove the old one. “Shall I pour fresh cups for the pair of you?”

“No, Colleen, that’s fine. I’ll handle the pouring.” Heather’s cheeks were ablaze as she rose from the seat and began to move toward the cart.

“As you wish, Miss Heather.” Colleen backed out of the room with a smile. She whispered to herself, “Miss Charlotte is very crafty, I’d say. She knew exactly the right moment to send me into the parlor with fresh tea.”

• • •

The following day, George Fitzpatrick breathed a sigh of relief as he carefully laid Jasmine on her bed. She was finally home, but the trip had not been without difficulty. Jasmine’s foot and ankle were bound in a plaster cast, and she had to be carried up the narrow stairs of the townhouse to the third floor bedroom she shared with Heather.

Charlotte orchestrated the delicate maneuvering up the stairs and took a calming breath when Jasmine was finally placed in bed. “Heather, please see that your sister gets settled in and is comfortable.” Charlotte placed a kiss on Jasmine’s forehead and brushed her hair back from her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re home, daughter.” Then Charlotte glided from the room, leaving the twins to face one another.

“Would you like me to put a ribbon in your hair to pull it back from your face, Jas?” Heather asked, obligingly.

Jasmine shrugged.

“Can I get you a pillow for underneath your foot?” Heather asked.

“Yes, that would help. And a spoon so I can take my pain medicine.” Jasmine leaned back against the pillows, as tears suddenly streamed down her face.

Heather noticed the tears and rushed to do her bidding. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“No, not really. I’m just so mad.”

“Mad? I can see disappointed, but mad? At whom, pray tell?”

“Well, for one, at Philippe, for putting that blasted paint on the bottom of my shoes, which made me slip.”

“Ah, but you thought it was special only a few days ago. What was the term you used to describe them? Magic shoes, wasn’t it?”

“Magic, my broken foot. Secondly, I blame you.”

“Why would I be to blame?”

“You sent me out to the balcony to do your dirty deed, remember?”

Heather hesitated. She punched an extra pillow before she placed it on the bed under Jasmine’s injured ankle. Then she locked her gaze onto Jasmine’s face. Seeing that Jasmine’s eyes blazed in anger, Heather lowered her eyes to her sister’s lame limb as she blinked back her own threatening tears.

“Yes, I remember. I’m sorry for my part in this, Jasmine. If there’s anything I can do for you, just name it.”

“Well, for starters, if you ever see that dreadful man again, I’ll surely never forgive you.”

Heather sat down on the bed beside her sister. “Why? Did he say something that offended you?”

Jasmine could not meet her sister’s gaze. “Yes, but it’s of no consequence now.”

“No, it is of consequence. I insist that you tell me what happened on that balcony before you fell. Jas, it’s of the utmost importance.” Heather grabbed her sister’s hands.

“Oh, all right. It no longer matters anyway, since my season is finished before it really got started. He said that, of the two of us, he prefers your company.”

Heather released her sister’s hands and clutched her stomach, which was now a swirl with butterflies. “Oh, my. No one’s ever said that before.”

“That’s what I thought! The rude, insensitive man. Even if he thought so, he should keep those thoughts to himself. Maybe things are done differently in the south. I hope he heads back to the frontier soon. Or to Savannah. I really don’t care which.” Jasmine wiggled on the bed as she tried to find a comfortable spot. “So, tell me about the rest of the ball. What happened?”

Heather frantically searched her memory of the remainder of that evening. What could she tell Jasmine to placate her? That Heather had been left all alone at the dance with only Halwyn to see to her needs, and then having even him abandon her into the arms of David? And their slow, almost scandalous walk home? She knew Jasmine wouldn’t want to hear any of that.