Through the Storm (26 page)

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Authors: Beverly Jenkins

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Through the Storm
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“All right,” Raimond said quietly. “Three of us will take the front. You two enter through the back. Make certain you’re masked.”

Following Raimond’s lead, the five men placed black hoods over their heads and rode slowly toward the large, dilapidated plantation house. Masking their identities was essential if they wanted to save themselves and their families from retribution.

They had no trouble entering the place. There were at least fifteen children of varying ages asleep on the floor of the front room. Raimond and his men stepped quietly over them, not wanting to awaken them until matters with the owner were settled.

The owner, a pale, portly man named Dillard Huckleby, lay asleep in his bed. Raimond firmly placed the business end of his rifle against Huckleby’s nose and barked, “Wake up, Huckleby!”

The man roused as one of Raimond’s companions lit a lamp. Huckleby’s eyes widened in panic upon viewing the masked intruders. “All of my gold’s in the bank,” he volunteered hastily. “I’ve nothing valuable here in the house, I swear.”

“We’re not here for money,” Raimond said. “Tell me about those children sleeping on the floor in your front room.”

Huckleby began to sweat. “Uh, they work for me. They’re orphans, for the most part. Law says they have to work.”

And indeed it did. In an effort to control the freedmen and their movements, some communities had passed statutes making it illegal for any freedman to be unemployed. Many of the jobless were being forced to sign work contracts with their former masters that bound them to their employer for life. Children, a prime source of cheap labor, were being kidnapped from the streets with frightening regularity.

“We’re here to take the children back to their parents.”

“You can’t do that! I’ve got papers for them—legal papers—that they all read and signed.”

“Did they now?” Raimond asked skeptically.

“Yes,” Huckleby vowed.

“I don’t believe you. I’m guessing there isn’t a child out there that can read more than his name, if that. If it wouldn’t be a waste of cartridges I’d shoot you right here for all the grief you’ve put their parents through.”

Still pressing the gun against Huckleby’s bulbous nose, Raimond instructed his friends to start waking the children.

As they departed, Huckleby snapped, “You can’t do this! Them pickaninnies are mine! I’ll have the authorities on you!”

“Only if I leave you alive.”

Huckleby’s eyes widened, and sweat dripped down his face.

“Now, you’re going to stop preying on people’s children or we’ll be back, and when we do, we’ll be less inclined to talk, if you get my meaning.”

Huckleby did, and his expression said he didn’t like it.

“Good night, Mr. Huckleby. I advise you to wait in here until we’re gone.”

As Raimond turned to depart, Huckleby filled the air with smoldering invectives aimed at Raimond and his bunch of “gun-totin’ nigras,” but Raimond paid him no mind.

He and his men roused the children, and after calming their fears, quickly led them out into the night where a wagon waited to transport them.

It was nearly dawn by the time Raimond and his men returned to the city. They dropped the true orphans off at one of the church shelters. The other children, whose parents had been asked to wait at the Freedmen’s Bureau office, were ecstatic to be reunited with their families.

All in all, it had been a worthy endeavor. Raimond just hoped his mother would agree when he apologized later today. Sable, no doubt furious, would probably assume he’d missed the gala on purpose. Let her think it; he didn’t care. She was a Jezebel and a traitor, and he should be turning her over to the authorities for her betrayal back at the camp—a betrayal that might have cost Union lives. He had no business marrying her, that was certain, but he couldn’t resist the temptation to claim her, bed her…She was a fire in his blood, and he was no more immune to her now than he’d been months ago at the Union camp.

When he explained his absence to his mother, Juliana was indeed understanding—still angry but understanding.

Raimond asked, “Shall I find Sable and offer my apologies in person?”

“She isn’t here. Archer took her shopping.”

“My brothers seem to be quite taken with my little bride.”

“They adore her, and all of them have a bone to pick with you over last night also.”

“She didn’t become hysterical when I didn’t show, did she?”

“Has she ever impressed you as being prone to hysteria?”

He had to adimit she never had. “No.”

“Then you have your answer. She performed admirably considering the distressing circumstances.”

Raimond felt guilt rise, but it faded when he reminded himself that those children had had to come first. “Suppose I buy her a bauble. Will she forgive me then?”

“Save that sort of thing for your mistress.”

“Ouch, Mama. I have apologized for standing her up.”

“And luckily you had a good reason. Now, truthfully, how angry are you with me over thrusting Sable back into your life?”

“I won’t lie and say I’m pleased.” Raimond didn’t trust Sable a bit, but his mother seemed set upon having her as the mother of her grandchildren, and who was he to argue over an issue that seemed to make the lovely Juliana so happy? However, should Sable ever bring shame to the house of LeVeq, he swore she would rue the day she’d ever come to New Orleans.

“Will you be able to see it through?” his mother asked.

“Since my heart won’t be involved, I see no reason why not. You seem to care for her a great deal, and that’s what matters to me. A potential
grandmere
should like the woman who’ll birth her
grandbébés
.”

“And I do. In spite of the difficulties keeping the two of you apart, I care deeply for her.”

“Then that’s all that’s required. When is the wedding date again?”

Juliana looked so appalled at his forgetfulness, he couldn’t hold back his chuckles. “I’m only teasing, Mama. I know that it is in three days at eleven.”

“You do plan to attend?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I will see you then.”

Raimond gave her a peck on her dark cheek and went on his way.

 

Sable awakened the morning of her wedding to a day of sunshine and blue skies. She hadn’t slept more than a wink last night. Such a beautiful day did much to soothe her nerves, but she still wondered if she’d lost her mind by agreeing to marry Raimond LeVeq.

According to the schedule Juliana had set down on paper yesterday, the hairdressers would arrive first, followed by the seamstress who’d designed her dress. Sable forced herself to drink some of the coffee and eat a bit of the toast on her breakfast tray. The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t let her consume more, but the hectic morning passed by in such a daze, Sable was on her way to the church before she knew it.

 

Across town, Raimond awakened to find his brothers Archer and Drake seated in his room. “What the hell are you two doing here?” he demanded sleepily. Even half-awake he could see that they were dressed formally.

“Making certain you arrive at the church,” Drake replied.

“On time,” drawled Archer. “So get up.”

“I don’t need nursemaids, especially ones as ugly as you two.”

Raimond swung his big body from beneath the sheets. Seeing them first thing this morning did not help his aching head. Their yammering didn’t make them much welcome either.

“I can get to the church on my own,” Raimond declared.

They didn’t move. It was obvious they hadn’t any idea how much cognac he’d consumed last night in order to work up the courage to go through with this madness today. What had he been thinking to agree to something so outrageous? Sable Fontaine was a thief and a traitor. Why in the world had he agreed to marry her?
Because now that you’ve found her, you want to keep her. Forever
, said a sage voice inside his pounding head. Raimond ignored the voice and blamed it on the cognac. “Tell Mama I’ll be there directly.”

“Is he deaf?” Archer asked his brother Drake.

“Advanced age does that.”

Raimond shot them a malevolent look.

Archer drawled, “Save that face for someone who cares, big brother. Mother wants us to
bring
you to the church. And Drake and I are here to carry out her orders.”

“If you two don’t get out of my house—”

“Maybe
you
prefer to tangle with the lovely Juliana,” Drake said, “but
I
do not. So, if we have to tie you up and toss you into a bag, you are coming with us.”

Archer smiled. “Very succinctly put, my brother.”

Raimond growled at their antics. “All right, all right. Wait downstairs. I’ll be with you as soon as I’m washed and dressed.”

As they moved to leave, Drake boasted, “We really could have tied you up and tossed you in a bag, had we cared to.”

Raimond pointed to the door. “Out.”

 

In a church anteroom, Juliana spent a few minutes fussing with Sable’s hair and dress before finally stepping back and saying, “You look beautiful, my dear.”

Sable felt beautiful. The white dress with its yards of silk was easily the most lavish garment she’d ever worn. The hairdressers had swept her hair back, then braided and twisted it elegantly. Soft wispy curls had been left at her temples.

Juliana adjusted the veil fashioned from sheer polished silk. “Raimond will be dazzled in spite of himself.”

Sable doubted that, but she hoped he would at least be civil.

A beaming Juliana stepped back and said happily,
“This will be a memorable event in the house of LeVeq. Thank you for coming into our lives.”

Sable gave her a tight hug. “I’m not sure Raimond would agree with that, but thank you for taking me in.” Then she asked, “The groom is in attendance?”

“Yes. Drake and Archer escorted him in a little while ago. He did not wish to wrangle with me, not today.”

Juliana gave Sable’s hand one last squeeze, then slipped out to take her seat with the guests. Alone now, Sable thanked the Old Queens for their guidance and love and asked for their continuing care. The organ sounded, her signal. Swallowing her fear and unease, she drew in a steadying breath, gathered up her skirts and small bouquet, and began the long walk down the aisle.

The St. Louis Cathedral was filled with more people than Sable could have imagined. Her approach signaled the guests to rise. The veil made her feel as if she were floating inside a sheltering cloud. From behind it she could see the smiling faces of her new brothers and mother-in-law, and the many acquaintances she’d made during her committee work. Their presence did much to allay her fears.

Walking slowly down the white runner, Sable finally turned her eyes to the altar. There he stood, as handsome and as cold as he’d been since the day they were reunited. The closer her steps took her, the tighter her throat became. Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was certain the guests could hear it plainly. Every fiber of her being screamed she should turn tail and run. Surely Juliana could find someone else to marry her eldest son. But Sable’s feet kept propelling her forward.

The veil created a barrier between them as she joined him at the altar. He gazed down, then gestured for her hand. Shaking, Sable slipped her cold fingers into his and he sheltered them in his warm grip. Sable dearly wanted to stop shaking, but could not. She assumed he could feel it because he looked down at her with those icy eyes and asked, “Are you unwell?”

She shook her head and turned her attention to the priest.

Raimond recited his vows in a strong voice. She whispered her replies. By the time the service ended and the priest declared them man and wife, Sable was so overwrought she could hardly breathe. She steeled herself as he prepared to raise the veil.

He lifted the silk slowly, almost reverently. Sable could not control her trembling. She’d done him a wrong back there in the camp and he had every right to denounce her publicly and turn her over to the authorities to be jailed. His features were stony.

Chin raised, she whispered, “If you plan to denounce me, do so now. I am ready.”

A slow smile swept his full lips, a smile that did not warm his icy eyes. “That would be the easy way out for you,
n’est-ce pas
?” He paused, then slowly traced his fingertip over the satiny rise of her golden cheek. “I believe I can come up with a more creative solution…”

His touch spread fire, and Sable fought to draw a steady breath. “What do you intend?”

In the softest of tones he replied, “To show my mother and her guests how pleased I am to have you as my wife.”

That said, he gently raised her chin, and Sable looked up into his dangerous tiger eyes. “We are going to play at love, you and I. I am going to be your courtier, and you, my Jezebel, will be my shy virgin queen…at least for today…”

To the guests in the church pews, Raimond appeared to be conversing tenderly with his new bride. No one could hear his whispered words or her hushed replies, but the passionate way he stroked her cheek, then lightly traced her mouth, convinced more than a few mamas that Raymond LeVeq was genuinely taken with this penniless bride. All hope for their own daughters to marry successfully now lay with Juliana’s remaining sons.

Sable’s rational self recognized Raimond’s posturing
for what it was, but her sensual self was unable to distinguish his tender pretense from reality. His whispered words and fleeting touches made it impossible to remain indifferent to him. How on earth would she survive this day? “Please, you and I need to talk privately,” she pleaded.

He offered her another cold smile. “Oh, don’t worry, we will.”

Sable moved as if in a dream as he took her hand and led her from the church. Guests lined the walk and their shouted well wishes hastened their journey to the waiting closed carriage. Raimond opened the door, and she hitched up yards of silk and took a seat inside. As soon as he was settled on the opposite bench the coach pulled away.

The thick silence did nothing to calm Sable’s frayed nerves, nor did his unwavering stare. Beneath his icy control, he appeared furious with her.

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