The Fancy (14 page)

South
. He sat at the left end from where he faced

them, next to him was Lawrence Carter, in the

middle, their clergy, Father Walter Hannah, next

Richard McKinney and at the end, James Armfield.

Aside from the men sat an elderly matron in a

lone chair to the left; quiet in observance.

It was Father Hannah who stood, cal ing him

forward.

There was a table present that Quinton was to

stand behind, facing them, and over to the far right, a

single chair.

“Dr. Caine, to the table please, and the Negro

– the chair there – is for her.” He pointed toward it.

Realizing the gravity of their situation, Suga

rushed there, keeping her head down the entire time,

silent as a mouse and just as frightened as one, she

sat with eyes on her tightly bal ed hands. Quinton

dare not look her way, but kept his eyes straight

ahead; he was deliberately arrogant before them.

Once they were in their places, father Hannah

proceeded, “Are you sir, aware of the reasons we’ve

summoned you here today? What charges you

face?”

Crossing his arms as if standing before those

beneath him, he returned, as if bored by it al , “I’m

sure, I’l find it rather intriguing.”

“Dr. Caine, in England, I’m certain your

cockiness is wel received, let me assure you, here it

is not! Such airs do nothing more than rile those who

sit in judgment of your crime.”

“I’ve committed no crime for any of you to be in

judgment of; I find these entire proceedings

ludicrous.” He returned.

“That remains to be seen.” Father Hannah

continued.

“Yes, so it does - what false witness has come

forth and what claim have they made?”

“This gathering has been commissioned by us;

you wil remain quiet as we proceed in the manner

for which we’ve organized it. Therefore, let your

silence be your counsel until you have been given

permission to speak, is that clear?”

“I do speak English, rather clearly – therefore, I

must also hear it and thus comprehend it.”

Suga thought she would faint clean to the floor,

‘Lord God, what is he doin’, he gone get us hanged!’

With nostrils flared, the clergyman drew in a

deep breath to gather his wits; once he felt back

under control he went forward with his questions.

“Is it true, that you – almost two months prior

received a servant girl, a Negro in order to assist

with settling in here?”

“That is true. Just so happens to be, the young

woman I was instructed to bring with me. Why – what

do you know, there she is, sitting in absolute fright,

for doing nothing more, than the job she was given.”

Father Hannah turned red, feeling his anger

grow under Quinton’s condescension and sarcasm.

One of the men coughed over a barely concealed

eruption of mirth, while Bancmen’s eyes narrowed.

Father Hannah continued. “You sir, wil not stand

before us, haughty in your snobbery! This is a court,

and you wil conduct yourself with the utmost respect

before it.”

“Very wel , your
honor
– please – list my crimes

wil you.”

“I assure you, we wil – as there appears to be

a couple of them. Shal we begin with the first?”

“And that would be?”

“We have reason to believe, that you sir, are a

spy.”

“WHAT?! Whose insanity has caused them to

mutter such an outrageous lie?” Quinton sputtered in

disbelief, “Have you al taken leave of your senses?!”

he blasted, “What would I possibly have to gain by

taking part in such a fool-hardy occupation! From the

moment of my taking a place within this community I

have done nothing more than practice medicine and

do research! To give aid to those in need; where in

that do you find reason to accuse me of such a

crime?!”

“What else would an Earl, pretending to be a

doctor, be doing here? No servants to treat? No

farmers on your land?”

Quinton sighed, he needed to calm himself and

answered simply, “If you must know – I found myself

bored with it al . I am young, I sought adventure, and

found myself here; up until this event, I was rather

taken with this community and its people. Lest you

forget, I have not been here more than three months

and have done little else but run to the aid of al who

were in need. If I might remind you…” He turned to

Henry Bancmen, “… one of those patients has been

your mother, whom I sat in attendance to, day and

night, administering to her, successful y - is that - not

so?”

Bancmen was silent as he gave his nod.

“Perhaps that was the device you used to gain

our trust?” Father Hannah went on.

“How very convenient her timing then, perhaps

she too is a spy, in cahoots with me! Perhaps she

was not sick at al , merely faking it to make me look

good.” He fired out, glaring from one man to the

other, his bold stare settled on Bancmen, “And – I

might further add, at no time had I asked for a coin –

as an Earl, I am not in need. If I remember

correctly…” Quinton wasn’t completely crazy; he

knew to be careful with how he implicated the slave

trader, “… you knew that I was a man alone,

struggling and you sent the girl to me to give aid –

which she has. Now, I am to stand accused of

crimes that neither of us is guilty of?”

“Why are you here?” One of the other men

asked.

“Why are you here!?” Quinton turned the

question on him, “Perhaps, in truth, you are the spy,

and I am being used-…”

Thrusting up from his chair to his feet James

Armfield bit out, “That is absurd!”

“Yes! And I find it as absurd for me, as it is for

you! If I am guilty of a crime, make it one which has

some standing, some validity – but nothing so

ridiculous as that!”

“Why did you not identify yourself from the very

beginning upon settling here?” Armfield asked.

“My identity has been known from the

beginning, it is my title that I cared not to share, for

what good would it serve me, here?” Each of the

men colored red at the truth in his words.

“Furthermore, if that title was tied to spying – why in

God’s name, would I use it in sending a missive? I

thought spy’s had secret codes and other such?!” He

argued his case once more looking from one man to

the other and then, finalizing his argument against

spying he stated, “The using of my title in the missive

was nothing more than customary etiquette. I

daresay something you seem to know nothing

about!”

James Armfield, with his face flaming, took his

seat, leaving Father Hannah to carry on, “Very wel –

that aside, there is the matter of the girl. Where –

exactly does the girl reside?”

“With me.” Quinton answered immediately.

“You are a bachelor sir.”

“She is a young Negro servant; in some places

she would be cal ed a slave.”

“While true – she is a female nonetheless. You

are a man; it is frowned upon and strictly forbidden

to have such an arrangement. Why do you not at the

end of your day, send the girl on her way?”

“On her way to where exactly? She is without a

home, without family; would you have her sleeping in

a barn – open to any sort of dangers? What good

would she be to me then?”

“What good is she to you now?”

“She is my assistant in research – helping me

to prepare necessary medicines to treat different

maladies, such as the many patients you have

interviewed may have suffered from.”

“If their statements have a thread of honesty,

you wil have been informed of that already. That

aside, there is the matter of domestic chores I

cannot be bothered with; my studies are no longer

impeded with my residence fal ing down around me;

thus, more for the servant girl.”

“Very wel , at the end of the day, send the girl

back to Mr. Bancmen, he as a married man with

back to Mr. Bancmen, he as a married man with

household with servants, could no doubt find a place

for her.”

“The girl would be of no use to me there, I have

been training her - I cannot do so if she is running

back and forth between my dwel ing and Mr.

Bancmen’s – there is much for her to learn – much

for her to do. She has a room of her own and a bed

there of her own. Once more, ask Erwin Murray, he

came in and constructed her room himself. And her

training, once again, ask any of those I am certain

you questioned, she has a skil for healing-…”

Cutting him off, Father Hannah brought the

focus back, “You sir – are a bachelor, she is a

female – the rest does not matter – might I suggest

you marry.”

“I have no room in my life, for a wife – if I did, I

would have done so with one more suitable to me,

back
in England.”

It was a deliberate insult; the five were

immediately offended by his comment.

“Are you saying, there are none here, good

enough for you?”

Quinton stood with his heart pounding, praying

as he cocked a haughty brow; which only riled them

al the more.

“You – how dare you! My daughter is more than

good enough! It is you, who is not worthy of her, or

any woman here for that matter – you and your

stinking elites!” Richard McKinney spat, thinking

about how his daughter Clarice longed for him,

asking for permission to cal on him – it simply was

not done, he had forbidden it, now – he was glad that

he had saved her from the humiliation.

“Let us al please stay focused on the matter at

hand. It is an easy enough solution; I wil have the girl

back.” Bancmen spoke up to break the tension in the

room.

“I’m sorry, the girl is my servant and I wil

continue on as I have done, for there has been no

crime committed.”

“So you say sir!” McKinney hissed, angry at

having his daughter devalued by the man before him.

“The girl is untouched! She is as she came to

me.”

“That can be proven easily enough.” Father

Hannah interjected, and looking at the young woman,

who sat quietly before them, said. “Check the girl –

we wil have proof of the matter now.”

Quinton felt his stomach tighten with the thought

of such an indignity forced upon her, but it could not

be helped – there was no way around it. He forced

himself to stare straight ahead, daring not to look her

way.

Suga glanced up with wide eyes towards

Quinton, he looked completely bored by it al , with his

eyes towards the men who faced him.

Without ceremony, the much older woman,

tromped her way across the distance between them

and upon reaching Suga, grabbed her by the arm

and snatched her from the seat, practical y dragging

her to a side room, shoving her through the door, she

slammed her against the nearest wal . As if she were

on a farm checking one of her livestock, she hitched

up her skirt, ripped her bloomers open and shoved

her hand between her thighs, “Spread your legs girl,

now!” She bit out nastily. With little choice, frightened

into silence, Suga spread her legs and closed her

eyes to endure being probed to the woman’s

satisfaction. When done, she used the inside of

Suga’s skirt to wipe her hands on.

“Wel I’ah’be, so ya’are. Back outside with’ya –

sit down.”

Head down once more, Suga rushed back out

the door and sat down, her face on fire from

humiliation; she did al she could to tune out al that

was happening around her. She thought about her

mother and al that she’d gone through. She thought

about the other slaves, young women like herself, her

sisters and al that they’d gone through too, wishing

she had never met nor been given to Quinton

Thaddeus Caine. His misleading kindness, fairness,

Thaddeus Caine. His misleading kindness, fairness,

difference made her soft, made her lower her guard,

made her think such nonsense that she was truly, as

good as anyone else – because he made her feel

that way.

But that day, what had been done to her – that

was the truth – she was nothing but a fool in

believing things just might be better for her.

Quinton blocked his mind, dare not look her

way – he dare not feel what just happened to her –