The two liveried footmen at the door were men Clare knew from their church out on the Brampton Plantation; they were members of the congregation as was she. Teddy paid her slaves a nominal wage and many of them contributed to the church’s operations. Because the Sullivans paid her nothing, Clare contributed by secretly teaching the members to read.
“Good evening, Dr. Sullivan. Miss Sullivan. Clare. Welcome,” the footman on the right said.
Victor said, “Thank you, Prince. How are you?”
“Well, sir. And you?”
“Victor, we are not here to talk to the slaves,” Violet declared shortly. “Come along.”
Clare glanced over at Prince, who rolled his eyes, and she had to hold in a giggle.
Inside, the large parlor was an inferno. Too many bodies and too little circulation of fresh air made it hard to breathe, even though there were slaves positioned all over the room with large fans made of imported palm fronds doing what they could to cool the air.
“I’ll go out to the kitchen to see if Della needs help,” Clare said. Della was Teddy’s housekeeper.
“Della is a very competent slave. I’m sure she has everything under control. You just stay close. Ah, I see the receiving line. Come, Victor. Clare, you, too.”
Victor looked over at Clare. “Are you comfortable with the Frenchman being here?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why—”
She cut him off and told him with quiet frankness, “I’m a slave, Victor. I do what I am told.”
He pursed his lips and followed his sister.
In the receiving line stood Teddy and Meg, and beside them Dominic. Teddy was outfitted in a fine blue waistcoat and matching breeches. Meg looked as beautiful as a European princess in her stunning gown of yellow silk. Next to them were Esteban, Gaspar, and James. Clare fought hard not to look Dominic’s way, but when she did, his eyes were waiting. They twinkled just long enough for her to see it before becoming hooded and bored. Even as her heart pounded with her love for him, she kept her features masked and braced herself for whatever Violet might do or say.
Teddy said, “Violet. Victor. Hello, Clare dear.”
Clare nodded. Gaspar and Esteban offered her kindly smiles that she met blankly.
“Let me introduce my guests.”
“We’re already acquainted, thank you,” Violet said bitterly.
Teddy glanced over at Dominic, who took a sip from the drink in his hand, his eyes smiling coldly.
“Have either of you been down to the docks to see Mr. deMille’s merchandise? Meg and I were surprised at the quality and the variety.”
“No,” Victor replied, shooting daggers Dominic’s way. “We met him this past spring on the Atlantic, remember. He raided our ship, stole gold, guns, and took Clare from us.”
Dominic held his eyes. “She was intriguing, but since I’m no longer interested, I’ve returned her to you.”
Clare kept all emotion from her face.
Teddy looked into Clare’s face as if trying to see beneath the mask. “Clare, I’m sorry if this has caused you any embarrassment. Violet, I hoped you would leave Clare at home but if you’re uncomfortable as well, I’ll understand if you choose to leave.”
“We’ll stay. Won’t we, Clare.”
Clare didn’t reply.
Violet looked over at Dominic and said with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes, “Be aware that if she’s breeding, your get will go on the block.”
He froze.
Meg gasped.
His hooded gaze brushed Clare before he replied drolly, “Thank you for that information, Miss Sullivan. Enjoy the evening.”
It was apparent by the shock on the faces of some of the guests nearby that Violet had been overheard. Buzzing began among the people standing closest to her in the receiving line. A few even leaned out of the line to get a look at Clare. Keeping her mask in place, she ignored them. She was a slave, and that reality was far more painful than being the subject of slave owners’ gossip. Inside, however, she was furious at this latest vicious attempt by Violet to break her spirit.
Echoing Dominic, Violet said, “Enjoy your evening.”
Clare followed the Sullivans away from the receiving line. She knew Dominic was watching the departure; her sense of him was as strong as her angrily beating heart. She dearly wished to turn back and meet his eyes, but she kept her feet moving forward.
Victor viewed his sister disapprovingly, and once they were out of range he asked quietly, “Was that truly necessary?”
She took a glass of punch from a tray carried by a white-suited slave. “Of course it was. I want everyone to know that the man’s a slave stealer.”
He sighed. “Clare, I need some relief from this stifling heat. Would you care to accompany me?”
“She doesn’t need air,” Violet declared, voice dripping with contempt. “She’s African, she’s accustomed to heat.”
Victor countered, “Nevertheless, we’ll return shortly.” He gestured tersely to Clare. “After you.”
Having little choice, she led him into the crowd. A discreet glance sent Dominic’s way was met by eyes already waiting. In terms of length and time the connection lasted less than a breath, but it was long enough for her to see his fury. Breaking off the link, she focused her gaze ahead, and he seamlessly moved his attention back to the guests moving through the receiving line.
Once outside in the cooler night air she drew in a series of breaths. Her constricting stays prevented them from being very deep ones, but they were sufficient to gain some relief from the oppressive heat filling the parlor and to calm her pounding emotions.
There were other people out milling about, laughing, talking, and taking advantage of the food and drink being offered on the trays of the circulating slaves. Victor escorted her over to a quiet spot.
“Are you carrying?” he asked in a voice laden with concern.
She looked up at the stars and remembered viewing them at another time and in another place. “I don’t know.”
“If you are, and you wish to keep it with you, I’ll see that you can. I promise.”
Clare shook her head and expelled a soft, bitter chuckle. “And what is that promise worth, Victor? You’ve already sold both of my children.”
“It was necessary, Clare, you know that. I had to pay the back tariffs on the land or lose it. I had no choice.”
“And if a similar necessity arises again? What will your promise be worth to the child that may be growing in my womb?”
He looked out at the night and didn’t reply for a moment, then said finally, quietly, “I wish things were different. If you weren’t…” His words trailed off.
“If I weren’t African?”
Their eyes met in the dark for a moment before his moved away. They were the same age and had been raised under the same roof: master and slave. Over the years he’d given her the impression that he had feelings for her, and had even kissed her once when they were adolescents, but that had been the extent of it. Unlike some slave owners, he’d never forced himself on her, or treated her with anything but respect. However, Clare had no tender feelings for him, at least not in that way; she wasn’t foolish enough to even begin to imagine their relationship being anything but what it was: master and slave. Yes, he’d been kind to her, but the day he sold her children their relationship had been altered forever. Clare would never forgive him for as long as she drew breath. “Why did you ask me about being free?”
“When I confronted deMille on the waterfront the other day and told him how intelligent you were, and that you had feelings, he wanted to know why I hadn’t freed you, if I thought so highly of you.”
“And your reply?”
“I had none.”
She sighed audibly. “I’m going back, Victor. I’ll see you inside.”
As she approached the door she saw Gaspar standing beside it with a drink in his hand. She assumed he’d come outside ostensibly to take in the night air, but in reality was watching over her. The knowledge filled her heart. When she passed by, he asked quietly, “You are well?”
Looking up into his kind eyes almost made hers fill with tears, but she nodded instead. “I am. Thank you.” And she proceeded back into the hot, noisy parlor.
Teddy was standing just inside the door speaking with Abner Holloway, a staunch patriot and the owner of one of the largest rice plantations in the Carolinas. According to Teddy he had over a thousand captives in his fields. As soon as she saw Clare she excused herself from him and said, “I’d like to speak with you, if I may.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Teddy stopped one of the servers, a young woman named Hallee, and asked that Violet be told that she and Clare would be speaking in the study for a moment. Hallee and Clare knew each other from the church. Halle’s eyes brushed Clare before resettling on her mistress. “Yes, mistress.”
Once they were inside the quiet book-lined study, Teddy said, “I won’t keep you long, but I wanted to apologize for Violet’s behavior and for my being responsible for putting you in such an embarrassing situation. DeMille may be French but he appears to be an unfeeling cad.”
It pained Clare to have Dominic be thought of as malevolent when in reality all he’d shown her was care and love, but this was the game they were playing. “I appreciate your sympathy.”
“And as for your mistress. All I can say is you deserve better. You are one of the most intelligent women in Savannah, slave or free. Were you mine I would have freed you long ago just as I’ve freed Della.”
Clare stared. “Della is free?”
“As are Halle and her husband, Prince.”
Expecting a trap, Clare studied her face. “Why tell me this?”
“One, because I know you will be discreet, and two, because I’m hoping to take them north to Boston come spring, war or no war, so they may live free as they deserve. I’d like for you and your children to come accompany us as well, but if my niece and nephew refuse to sell you again, I—”
Clare’s heart raced. “Again?”
“Yes. Last autumn I offered good coin to buy you, but they refused.”
Her eyes widened.
“I can see by your face that is the first you’ve heard. As your owners, them not telling you is their prerogative, of course.”
Clare’s knees were so weakened she thought she might fall down. “May I sit?”
“Of course.”
There were so many emotions flowing through her it was difficult to separate them all. “Did they give you the impression that I might be for sale?”
“They didn’t, but it’s common knowledge that Victor will lose the land by the end of summer if he doesn’t sell something valuable to pay off this year’s tariffs, and everyone knows that when you subtract the Sullivan land, their next most valuable property is you, Clare.”
Her eyes closed at the thought of what the future might have held had she not already had Dominic in her life. Gathering herself, she stood once more. “Thank you for telling me this.”
“So, do you wish for me to try and buy you and the children again so that you may travel with us to Boston, or have you made other arrangements for your future?”
Clare’s eyes shot to hers and held.
Teddy said, “He’s not the man he wants us to see, is he? I know you won’t answer that, but I saw all I needed when Violet threatened to put your babe on the block. For a split second his mask slipped. He recovered quickly but I saw the pain. He’s in love with you.”
Clare stayed silent.
“I’m going to make the assumption that you came back for your children. I know I would, so if I can be of any assistance please let me know.”
“Thank you for the apology,” were the only words Clare allowed herself to say.
“You’re welcome. Now, let’s go back before that vicious niece of mine accuses your man of stealing you again.”
Outside the door and standing a few feet away were Esteban and James Early. They appeared to be nonchalantly talking to each other, but Teddy didn’t buy it. “She’s fine, gentlemen, as you can see.”
They didn’t respond, but let the ladies pass them and reenter the parlor before they moved from their post and discreetly followed.
As Clare searched the noisy gathering crowd for the Sullivans her head was spinning from Teddy’s revelations. Had anyone else seen through their charade, or was she the only one? The idea that she might have been sold added to the emotional whirlwind.
“Ah, there you are,” Teddy said to Violet, Meg, and Victor as she escorted Clare back. When Clare’s eyes met Victor’s, guilt flashed over his face before he lowered his eyes to the glass in his hand.
“I must see to my guests. Come, Meg.”
“What did she want with you?” Violet asked Clare suspiciously after Teddy and Meg were swallowed up by the crowd.
“To offer an apology, nothing more.”
Violet was about to say something else when Teddy’s voice rose over the din. “May I have your attention, please.”
Everyone quieted. “It has come to my attention that Mr. deMille has with him a musician from the court of King Louis XVI who has graciously agreed to play a few selections. I’d like us to step outside where it is cooler so we may enjoy the music at our leisure.”
Clare almost let a smile slip as she saw Tait, fiddle in hand, leading the way. She’d had no idea he’d accompanied Dominic and the others. She looked forward to hearing him and his fiddle. Teddy, Dominic, and the rest of the crew except for Gaspar fell in behind him. She nonchalantly glanced around the room searching for the quartermaster and found him positioned against a wall only a few feet away from her.
Violet sniffed, “Victor, go and get the carriage. Clare and I will meet you out by the road. We won’t be staying.”
He hissed in reply, “Yes, we are. You’ve embarrassed the Sullivan name quite enough for one evening, so act as if you have a modicum of decorum remaining and indulge Teddy.”
Furious, she rose to her feet and walked stiffly into the crowd flowing slowly towards the door.
Tait played for nearly an hour, alternating between French folk songs, classical pieces, and Catholic and Anglican hymns. When he finished, and after the applause died down, he said in his French-accented English, “Now with your permission I will close the performance with a melody I composed for a beautiful woman of my acquaintance.”
Clare sensed what he was about to play, and in the darkness the hairs stood up on her neck.