The Fancy (17 page)

understand?!” He pleaded.

“Don’ want you on no floor like that, get up now

– gone, get up. Stop this foolishness, I ain’t nobody

you got to crawl to, al I want-…”

He shot to his feet, cutting off her next words,

grabbed her to him and for the first time, gave in to

what he’d been wanting to do from the moment his

heart betrayed him by handing his soul over to this

amazing fancy, that was now, his wife.

His lips locked onto hers, kissing her, moving

over them to work them wide so that his tongue

could enter. He inhaled the smel of her with every

breath that he drew, the taste of her with every draw

and suction of his mouth on hers.

Suga held on, and did what she thought he

wanted her to do, opening her mouth to him; kissing

her so she felt her heart would burst from her chest.

Light headed, dreamy with wonder Suga never

knew such feelings; she should be afraid of him but

could not find her fear – it al seemed to vanish the

moment he grabbed hold of her. She didn’t

understand it at al – but what she did know was that

the feeling he gave her was moving throughout her

body and it felt amazing. She stood being kissed

and wondered once more, was a fancy supposed to

be in love with her master; with her owner? Her

mother had said no. Yet, Quinton had said that he

was neither; regardless of his claim, that idea was

hard pressed into her and it wouldn’t be easy to let

go. Whether he be master, owner, or just Quinton –

in either case, he was the one man, she would

endure al for. As he stood kissing her hungrily,

thoroughly; this time, she had her arms around him;

holding on tight so that he would know, despite

earlier, she was pleased to have that attention from

him. She would not deny him anymore; she would not

hide – not after that day. When he left that town hal ,

he had her with him, that was al that mattered to

Suga, that she was free to be his – and that was al

she wanted to be, Quinton’s Fancy. He final y broke

the kiss, because they both needed to breathe, he

held her, resting his forehead on hers, “I must wait,

give you time – after what I’ve done, I could not

possibly put you through it so soon, not after that.” He

gasped, holding her tightly, rubbing her back gently.

“You ain’ got to wait on me, I’m yours to do

whatever you want, Quinton. I just don’t want you to –

t’treat me bad, hurt my heart and kil my soul.”

He palmed the cheeks of her face, examining it

with adoring eyes, “Never – no not ever!” His thumbs

caressed her lovely skin, “You do know – that now –

you are my wife, you do realize that – don’t you?”

Her eyes grew large, staring at him in wonder,

“Huh?”

Quinton smiled, sniffed, laughing, “Suga, you

are truly, Suga Caine, you are truly
my wife
– you and

I – we are married, it is so, before witnesses, no

matter how rotten; before God, no matter how abrupt

I was, I vowed to take you as my wife, and I signed

the book to say that I accepted this. You did the

same, it does not matter why it happened, know –

that it happened. You are my wife, you – are – my –

wife
.”

“Huh?”

With a bold, robust bark of laughter, Quinton

scooped her high into his arms, spinning her about

as she hung on for dear life, thinking that he’d real y

gone crazy now. The spinning stopped only because

he was heading down the hal , and there was no

room for such play. Entering his favorite room, he

stepped right to his favorite chair before the fire;

there he sat, holding her on his lap. Suga sat with her

hands on his shoulders, trying to catch her breath, “I

can’t be yo’ wife Quinton.”

“Why? You tel me why this cannot be?”

“’Cause, I’m just a common Negro, bedwench.”

“No, nothing about you, do I find, common,” he

reached up, caressing her brow, “It is not true, this

thing you believe – God did not make you that, it is

what man made you, white men – men who are

selfish, deceitful, evil. They have taken control of a

land, of a people, because they have become a law

unto themselves. But know this, their day wil come –

a day that wil judge us al .”

She shook her head, afraid to believe what he

was saying to her, “You sure you ain’t drink nothin’

funny Quinton?”

He smiled, searching her features for the tiniest

flaw, knowing there had to be something to mar her

loveliness; unable to resist, he pul ed her face to him

for another kiss, realizing he could easily kiss her

forever if that were at al possible, “You are my wife.”

He freed her mouth to declare, and kissed her again,

and once more he explained, “Our God, the One who

created al things, made you a woman, made me, a

man – and if we both – believe in him, then he is

happy for us to be one, man and wife and we are, we

are.” He kissed her again.

Suga was dizzy from being kissed so much,

her wet lips throbbing; she touched her lower one,

giving a sad smile, but could not for the life of her,

give into the enthusiasm he was displaying. “We

gots to be careful, Quinton, folks ain’t gone like to

hear this.”

He kissed her again, and felt himself

thickening, hardening beneath her bottom and knew

that he must stop, or he would have her again, yet to

do so, would show him to be thoughtless, cal ous. He

paused once more with his forehead resting against

hers, “Only God knows what a gift you have been to

me, only He knows.”

“You hear anything I say, Quinton? Folks ain’t

gone like it.”

“You think I care what they like? As long as they

keep their distance, I care little for their thoughts!

Enough of them, there are things I must tel you, and I

want you to listen careful y.” She nodded, her eyes

on him, ready to hang onto every word that he said.

He wanted to kiss her again, “For your sake, I would

have you, sit on the stool.” He asked gently. With a

nod, she moved to it immediately, leaning on his

knee as he sat forward, stroking the wavy edges of

her hairline.

“While in the barn, I prayed, and did a

considerable amount of thinking, and I have reached

a decision; that is, we wil not remain here.” He

informed her with the shake of his head.

“Where we gone go?”

“Home – my home – back in England. Home to

my estates, I’ve traveled enough, I’ve learned enough

and I have been blessed with the greatest gain of my

adventures, and if I am to careful y treasure that, to

stay here is out of the question. I wil have you where

it is safe; with you as my wife, I could not rest

knowing at any time, you could be taken from me,

taken back to the South, used as a slave, or worse…

no, it is time for me to go, us – to go.”

Suga sat thinking about it, and wanted to ask,

“You got lots’o’money Quinton?” He was busy

touching her hair, getting to know it although it was

wound tightly in braids, “Yes, my lovely wife, I have

lots of money.” He answered truthful y.

“Is it – ah - you got enough to maybe – buy my

mama?” She asked hesitantly. He paused; staring

into her eyes, he sighed, giving it some thought,

“Yes, I have enough to buy your mother – however –

the problem may be that her master wil not wish to

sel her.”

“He greedy, he sel ha’ – he like money. Try

Quinton, please?” He reached behind her head,

palming it and pul ing it forward to kiss her brow, “I

wil try.”

“How long it gone take-…”

“How long wil it take…” He corrected.

She sighed and nodded her head, “How long

wil it take.” She changed it to ask. “It is quite the

journey, in order to get there; we wil have to go by

ship.”

She leapt off the stool, “Don’t want to. Don’t like

it.”

Quinton stood, “Suga, I promise, you wil not be

subjected to the conditions you endured before.”

“We wil have a comfortable room, heat,

clothing, food, al that is needed.”

“I’on like it Quinton,” Suga whined, uncertain,

chewing at the corner of her mouth, “Ain’t no other

way?”

“No my sweetheart, there is no other way, you

have my word, it wil not be the same as before,

nothing like.”

She stood thinking about it, not wanting to give

in, but had little choice in the matter, “Your word,

Quinton?”

“My word.” He stepped closer, “Have I broken

my word to you yet?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Do you trust me?”

Slowly she nodded.

“Good, I want you to trust, that I would let no

harm come to you. Now…” He couldn’t resist

touching her hair again, “… what is there to eat?” He

asked smiling.

Sure enough, as she prepared his dinner, it

began to snow, he watched it fal , thinking about al

that must be done to prepare them for travel in the

next few months, and he figured by early spring, his

servants should arrive. It would have to be then that

he go for her mother. Now that he had Suga, he was

sorry that he’d gone it alone. Simply put, he no

longer trusted those within the town and hoped their

need for him as a physician overrode any

maliciousness they might have towards him. One

thing was certain, should anyone try anything, he had

no qualms against kil ing should it come down to

defending his wife and his home; and he was wel

armed to do so. Making sure they had their privacy,

he closed and bolted the shutters pul ing the curtains

to; blocking any possible peeping Toms; he wouldn’t

put it past some to come snooping around, peering

into their windows out of curiosity. He was done with

the act of treating Suga roughly for the sake of those

who might see; their home was her sanctuary as wel

as his. He turned to see his food steaming but no

place setting for her.

“M y
wife
– shal eat at our table with me.” He

informed her, coming away from the window to sit at

the head of the table, eyes on her; he nodded to

where he would like to see her sitting.

Smiling, Suga quickly prepared a place to his

right hand, he did not want her at the opposite end of

the table, even though it was relatively smal er than

what he had become accustomed to.

Enjoying their food, he brought up what else

was on his mind, “Suga, this night – I have a great

favor to ask of you.”

Her eyes met his, nodding to hear what that

might be. Quinton took a deep breath and then, “We

need to give you, a more – fitting name.”

“My - my name? I got a name.”

“Yes, and as lovely as it is, be certain, that I wil

always cal you by that name when it is just the two of

us; however – I would have you with a name that wil

one day fit the title you wil be given.”

“Title?”

“Yes, title.”

“Don’t know what you mean Quinton.” She sat

back in her chair, her mind wondering what he was

getting at.

“Yes… so here we are at the rest of what I must

explain. Do you recal , those men addressing me, as

Earl of WhistHirst?”

“They crazy – yo’name Quinton.”

He couldn’t help himself, he started laughing,

shaking his head, for some reason, and recal ing

seeing that same look on his mother’s face.

“You laughin’ at me,” She asked, with a brow

pinched.

“No sweetheart, not at you; I am laughing at

myself.”

“Why? You ain’ did nothin’ funny.”

He laughed some more, “Oh my mother would

disagree with you there, except, I highly doubt, that

she wil be laughing about it.”

“I’on understan'.”

“No, but you wil – I wil see that you understand;

in either case, for now, I want you to agree, to

another name for yourself, in fact, I wil let you choose

your new name.”

“Don’t need no new name, I like Suga just fine.”

Quinton sighed, thinking.

“Quinton?”

“Yes my sweet?”

“Wha’s a Earl?”

He was cutting into a bit of rabbit and popped it

into his mouth, moving his eyes to her as he chewed,

“I am, Suga, I am an Earl.” He answered as a matter

of fact.

“Huh?” She’d never heard of such a title, al she

knew was what she’d been exposed to, being born