He set her on her feet, and frowned at her.
"You commanded me to move out,' she said.
'I command you to move back in.'
'And I must obey your commands, sir,' she said, with a smile. 'Off you go, children,' she said. 'Your father and I have things to discuss.'
'Come along, come along,' Amelia shouted, clapping her hands. 'You all can see yo' mother and father got business?'
The door closed. Haggard unfastened Emma's buttons, slid the gown away from her shoulders, thrust his hand inside to find and caress her breasts. She lay back against his chest, and sighed. 'Did you miss me, Mr. Haggard?'
'I missed you, Emma. My God, how I missed you.' Gently he pulled her nipples hard, as he knew she liked, and she wriggled her bottom against the front of his breeches.
'What must the children think?'
That we love each other.' He released her to undress himself, watched her tall, slender beauty unveiling itself in front of him, leapt forward and caught her again. She gave a gasp, then she was in the bed and he was lying on her belly, pushing the hair from her forehead, kissing each eye and her nose and her chin.
'Mr. Haggard,' she said into his ear. 'I have let Margaret Lacey go-'
Haggard kissed her on the mouth, raised his head to smile at her. 'The devil with Margaret Lacey, Emma. You are my housekeeper
’
CHAPTER 5
THE TYRANT
Mr. Johnson, the schoolmaster, stood in front of the fire, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. He was a short, heavy-set man, with pugnacious features, presently somewhat embarrassed. It was as usual raining outside, and his boots left damp imprints on the hearthrug.
'Mr. Johnson.' Haggard held out his hand. Never had he felt in such a bubbling good humour. Even the climate was nothing more than an irritation. 'I'm sorry I've not yet been down to the school, but you'll have heard I was in London.'
'Oh, indeed, Mr. Haggard. A bad business.'
'You may say that again. Sit down, man, sit down. A bad business. I'll have the scoundrel back, I promise you. I was merely hoodwinked by the intricacies of English law. I'll have him back.' He frowned. 'Aren't you going to sit down?'
'I would prefer to stand, Mr. Haggard.'
'Suit yourself. At least have a glass of wine.'
Thank you, sir, but no.'
'Well, you'll excuse me if I have one.' Haggard drank deeply. 'I've been inspecting my orchards and the wood. Now there is a pleasant spot. Or it would be if this confounded rain would ever stop. I think I will erect the new manor house closer to that wood. You know I'm going to build?'
'Well, sir, Mr. Haggard . . .'
'I've a man called Nash coming out to see me. Oh, aye, we'll replace this gloomy ruin with something more suitable. But not to fear, Johnson, not to fear. There will be ample funds for improving your school. Now then, I assume this isn't just a social visit?'
'No, sir, Mr. Haggard. The fact is . . .'
'But I'm glad you're here in any event. I have it in mind to call an election meeting. I'd like to explain to my people just what I propose, when I am elected. Never does any harm to communicate, eh?'
Johnson licked his lips. 'It is about the election that I wish to speak, sir.'
Haggard leaned back. 'Well, go ahead.' 'May I first of all ask some questions, sir?' 'Anything you like.'
'Well, sir, is it true that all of the black servants you have here are slaves?'
Haggard frowned at him. They are slaves, Mr. Johnson, if it is any concern of yours.' His frown deepened. 'You disapprove of slavery?'
Johnson's face was slowly turning crimson with embarrassment. 'Every right-thinking man must disapprove of slavery, Mr. Haggard.'
Haggard allowed his finger to point. 'Are you accusing me, Mr. Johnson, of being a wrong-thinking man?'
'By no means, Mr. Haggard.' Johnson forgot his earlier resolution and sat down,
‘I
understand yo
ur background, sir. You were born
to a certain station in life, and the higher that station, the less likely are we to question the perquisites that accompany it. I would hope, sir, that when the facts are put to you, you would appreciate them, and be swayed by them.'
The facts?' Haggard sat up. 'Don't come to me with any balderdash, Johnson.' The anger was back, bubbling in his belly, quite dispelling his mood of contentment. Why, it seemed that this entire country was engaged in a vast conspiracy against him. 'I'll give you some facts. Have you ever seen happier or healthier people than my blacks?'
'No, sir. But . . .'
'Do you know the sort of existence their forefathers had in Africa? A continual round of murder and mayhem, an unending sequence of disease, a total absence of literature of any refinement, and I may add, the worship of the most vicious and heathen gods you may care to name. Compare that existence with the lives they now live.'
'Yet are they subject to the whim of a single man, sir.'
'Do you not suppose they were subject to the whim of their king, in Guinea?'
Johnson sighed, and stood up again. 'Mr. Haggard, if indeed your ancestors removed these people from Africa in order to elevate their standard of living, they are to be honoured. But, sir, they did not apparently consider the matter in its entirety. To take a man from one bondage, and clap him in another, is hardly Christian, even if the second bondage is less severe than the first. And I may say, sir, that on the evidence presented before the'
Royal Commission, in many cases this second bondage is far
more
severe than the first. Of course I excuse
you
from such a stricture, Mr. Haggard. Every report says that you have ever been a humane man. Yet, sir, are you but one amongst hundreds, perhaps thousands. And in addition, sir, I am bound to say, that by belonging to such a community you place yourself in the dock of human opinion along with them.'
Haggard scratched his head. 'I really am totally confounded, Mr. Johnson. But I will tell you this: I do not propose to be lectured in my own house and by my own schoolmaster. You have said your piece, and I am perfectly willing to allow you your own point of view. But I regard the matter as now closed.'
'That decision must be yours, Mr. Haggard. But I will not be silenced,' Johnson said.
'In the name of God, man, have you come here to quarrel with me?'
Johnson's flush, which had faded during his lecture, now began to gather again. 'No, sir, and I apologise for my heat. I came here, sir, to make certain inquiries, resulting from rumours I have heard and information I have received. I now feel it is only proper for me to tell you that I have decided to stand as parliamentary candidate for Derleth.'
Haggard stared at him for a moment in total bewilderment. Then he laughed. 'You must have lost your senses.' Johnson got up.
Haggard kept his temper with an effort. 'And the deposit?' That has been made available.'
'Sharp, by God.' Haggard got up. 'Granville Sharp. He seeks to bring me down. Well, we shall see about that. Do you seriously suppose the electors of this borough will vote for their schoolmaster instead of their squire?'
'We shall have to find out, sir. But they are Englishmen, Mr. Haggard. And to any right-thinking Englishman, slavery is an abhorrence. I will bid you good day.'
MacGu
inness panted, rolled his tricorn
e between his hands. ' Tis a meeting. Hard by the church.'
Haggard nodded. 'You've some lads?'
'Oh, aye. Ten of them. But costly, Mr. Haggard. A guinea apiece.'
'Well, hopefully it won't come to violence.' He put on his hat, fastened his coat. Emma stood in the doorway to watch him, Roger at her side. 'You'd not assault the schoolmaster, Mr. Haggard?
‘I
'd not assault anyone, sweetheart. But I cannot have my people suborned.' He looked up at the ten mounted men. 'Peter Wring, is that you?'
‘I
t is me, Mr. Haggard, sir. And I've Toby with me as well.'
'Good man. And Lacey?'
The men exchanged glances. 'Well, sir. no. Lacey wouldn't join us.'
Haggard mounted. Because of his sister, he wondered?
'Will you take the dog, Mr. John?' John Essex asked.
Haggard pulled the mastiffs ears. But he was only a pup. 'I don't think we'll need him.'
'Please let me come, Father,' Roger begged. 'If there's to be a fight, I can swing a stick as well as anyone.'
'Your business is to look after Emma,' Haggard said. 'Anyway, there isn't going to be a fight. We're going to attend a meeting, that's all. Weil be back by ten o'clock.' He turned his horse and rode into the darkness, followed by his men.
Emma looked down at the boy who stood beside her, put her arm round his shoulder and gave him a squeeze; Rufus rubbed against his leg—he had immediately adopted Roger as his master. 'Time enough, Roger.'
He made no reply, and after a moment she released him. He was a strange boy. She was the only mother he had ever known, and she believed he was genuinely fond of her. Certainly no one, watching him play with Charlie and Alice, could doubt that he loved them. But equally no one could doubt that he worshipped John Haggard, wanted only to be included in his father's plans and ambitions.
'Does he really go to assault Mr. Johnson?' Roger asked.
'Of course not. It is just his way. And Mr. Johnson is really being very wrong in bringing discord to Derleth. His business is teaching, not quarelling with his squire.'
Roger went into the house, and Emma closed the door, is what he said true, Emma? Is it wrong to have slaves?'
Emma sighed. 'Some people say it is wrong to drink strong liquors, or eat rich foods. Some people say it is wrong to be ambitious, and certainly wrong to be rich. When you are a man, you will have to decide for yourself, what is right and what is wrong.'
He gave her a curious glance. 'Emma? Is it true that Papa owns you too?'
At last, she thought. For how many years had she waited for that simple question to be asked. 'Your father and I are lovers,' she said.
'But did he buy you?' Roger persisted.
Emma put her arm back around his shoulders as they climbed the stairs. 'Why, yes, he did. He saved me from being hanged, because of a lot of superstitious men. I will tell you about it, some day.'
'And he owns you?' Roger asked.
'Not any more.' She smiled. 'I doubt he knows.'
'And yet you stay with him?'
She gave him a squeeze. 'I told you, I love him. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be here for the rest of his life.'
'For the rest of
my
life, Emma. I don't want you ever to go.'
She rubbed his head. 'For that kind thought, you can sit at the table with me for supper.'
'But Emma,
is
Papa a good man? Do you think he is a good man?'
'He's a good enough man for me, Roger Haggard,' she said. 'Now off you go and wash your hands.'
Haggard drew rein in the shelter of the willows which grew around the little cemetery. By the side of the schoolhouse a platform had been erected, and on it there stood the Reverend Litteridge. Litteridge, Haggard thought bitterly. He might have known he would be involved. Seated to either side of him were half a dozen other men, none of whom Haggard recognised, save for the schoolmaster and the very obvious slight figure of Granville Sharp himself. In front of the rostrum, breaths clouding into the still November air, were a considerable number of men, and some women; Haggard estimated that most of the village must have turned out to hear what their vicar had to say, as they turned out most Sunday mornings for the same purpose.
He dismounted, handed his reins to Peter Wring, and made his way through the trees and into earshot.
'A blight,' Litteridge was saying. 'A blight across our fair land, and more especially, our fair village. Now, my friends, Mr. Haggard is not a bad man. Indeed, there is sufficient evidence that he is a good and generous one, according to his lights. But are his lights in accord with our way of thinking? We have this man, born and bred a planter, and therefore, my friends, by definition belonging to the most stiff-necked and arrogant group of men in the world. And do not his actions indicate his attitude? He wishes to return to England, to enjoy the proceeds of his slave-created wealth. So he commands his agent to buy Derleth Hall. No matter that the Redmonds have lived here for four generations. They were not slave owners. Thus they were not wealthy people. There were debts. As we all have debts. So Mr. Haggard's agent buys up the mortgage, and forecloses. There is an end to the Redmonds. And what do we next see? Mr. Haggard takes up residence, with his entourage, of slaves, black and white, my friends. For living in the hall is a woman who was convicted as a thief, and deported from this area across the seas, where she could suffer her sentence in justice. But she was a pretty girl, so Mr. Haggard with another snap of his arrogant fingers, buys her and takes her to his bed, and now brings her back to Derleth as lady of the manor. Can you believe that, my friends? A convicted thief, sentenced to transportation, returned to us as our better. Is this the sort of man you would have represent you in Parliament, my friends, make the laws that will govern this country, stand on our behalf in matters of national import? But I have not yet finished. This man, this Haggard, is also a slave owner, as I have said. And when one of his people, unable any longer to bear the heavy burden of bondage, sought succour away from Derleth, what does Haggard do? He calls for a posse, saddles up, and rides in pursuit, for all the world as if James Middlesex had been a convicted criminal, like his own paramour. A man whose only crime, if it can possibly be a crime, was to seek his freedom, an act any one of you would be honoured for attempting should you ever find yourself in so iniquitous a position. Is
this
man you would choose to represent you?'
The parson paused, straightened, listened to the murmurs of agreement which came from in front of him. Haggard left the trees and walked towards the platform. For a moment he did not appear to be noticed, then heads began to turn and a muttering began.