Lily (Song of the River) (35 page)

“But it is. How can it not be when I’m the one coming between you and Jensen?”

Tamar recognized the determined look on Lily’s face. It was the same look she’d worn when she’d decided to rebel against her relatives and set up housekeeping on a riverboat. But this problem could not be solved by determination.

She opened her mouth, but Lily shook her head. “You needn’t try convincing me otherwise, Tamar. I’m going to set you free so you can live your life in a way you choose.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Miss Lily.” She pointed a finger at the younger woman. “You don’t own me. Your grandmother does. And when she dies, I’ll become the property of whoever she wills me to. I was born a slave, and that’s what I’ll be until they lay my body in its grave.”

Tamar had been so focused on convincing Lily of the folly of her words that she’d forgotten Jensen was still there. He cleared his throat. “I think I have the answer for both of you.”

Lily lowered her chin a smidgen, but a frown still marred her face. “What’s that?”

“I’ll pay the purchase price to your relatives and set Tamar free.”

“You can afford that?”

A confident smile accompanied Jensen’s nod. “I’ve managed to put some money aside over the years.”

“I can help, too. We made a small profit from our first voyage, and we’re going to make even more once we dock in Memphis this evening.” Lily’s chin moved to its normal level. “We can make this work.”

“Wait a minute.” Tamar couldn’t believe they were talking about her and her future as if she wasn’t in the room. “What if I don’t—” She stopped. What could she say? That she didn’t want to be free? Tamar sent a pleading look toward Jensen. “I can’t let you spend that kind of money.”

Jensen snorted. “You can’t stop me. I’m free, remember?”

Tamar looked from one to the other. A whole new world seemed to be opening for her. It was an exhilarating, absolutely terrifying idea. She’d always known what was expected of her. She’d even had the added benefit of loving all three of her charges as if they were her daughters.

If she let Jensen and Lily do this, everything would change. Lily and her sisters would replace her with another slave. Then what would she do? Tamar had never considered a different future, and she didn’t know if she could do so now.

With a wordless cry, she tossed the rag down and ran from the room. Why did life have to be so difficult?

Lily recognized Eli Thornton the minute she saw him. He had his father’s good looks and his mother’s wise gaze. As soon as he found out who she was, he welcomed her with open arms, offering to let Jasmine, David, and her, along with Tamar, sleep in their home for the duration of their stay. David had asked to remain on board the
Hattie Belle
with the other men, and she had agreed.

They would be leaving in two days, and Eli assured her they would be fully loaded with cargo. One thing was certain—Uncle Phillip had been right about the money available in the shipping business. They were already making more money than she had imagined. Their profit margin was good enough that she would soon be able to buy out Blake’s interest in the
Hattie Belle.
He could purchase another boat and fleece innocent victims.

Dinner that evening was a lively affair. Lily took an instant liking to Eli’s wife, Renée, a perky beauty with dark hair and hazel eyes. With all three of Eli and Renée’s boys joining them, there was scarcely a lull in the conversation. They peppered their guests with questions about current events in New Orleans and the rest of the Thornton clan.

As soon as the meal was over, Lily pled exhaustion and escorted her yawning sister to their bedroom. So tired were they that she didn’t even notice the locations of the other bedrooms. She almost fell asleep while Tamar brushed and plaited her hair, her head nodding like a snag in the river. Even Jasmine’s animation was muted as they said their prayers and climbed into their shared bed.

Her youngest sister was asleep as soon as her head settled on the pillow, but Lily was so exhausted she was unable to rest. Scattered images spun in her head. Had Blake been about to kiss her? A shiver passed through her. He was not the right man for her, even if he was devastatingly handsome. Good looks had nothing to do with what was in a man’s heart. No, she would be better off with someone like Jean Luc, someone she could count on to support her.

She wondered why no shiver erupted as she considered being kissed by him. Probably because he was such a fine gentleman. He would never take advantage of her. Not that Blake had taken advantage. But he had wanted to. She’d seen it in his expression. Or was that her imagination?

Lily sighed and redirected her thoughts to Camellia, wondering if she missed them. Probably not. Jasmine twisted in the bed and punched her with a bony knee. Lily smiled. Camellia certainly would not have enjoyed sharing the bed. If Jasmine kept moving, she was not likely to enjoy a restful slumber herself. …

“Wake up.” A small hand shook Lily’s shoulder. “Wake up, Sissy. Something’s wrong.”

Lily rolled over and blinked at the unfamiliar room. “Wha—” A hand covered her mouth, pulling her into wakefulness with a start. Her heartbeat slowed as she realized it belonged to Jasmine.

“I think someone is breaking into the house,” Jasmine whispered close to her ear. “What should we do?”

Holding her breath, Lily stretched her hearing to its limit. At first she heard nothing but silence. Then a thump, bump, bump. She could feel her eyes widening.

“Did you hear that?” Jasmine’s whisper was fearful.

In the dim light, she could barely make out her sister’s face. She nodded and pushed back the sheet. “Stay here.”

Lily tiptoed to the door and opened it an inch. Crash! Her heartbeat ratcheted up another few notches. She glanced around the room for a weapon and picked up her parasol. It was not much better than her bare hands, but the sharp point at the end of the spine might make an effective threat. Looking over her shoulder, she summoned a smile for Jasmine, who was sitting up, her knees drawn to her chin.

Should she knock on Eli and Renée Thornton’s bedroom door? Lily took a moment to look at the other three doors that faced the second-floor landing. Which one belonged to the parents? She didn’t want to wake the children, so Lily crept to the top of the stairs, her parasol held high.

Yellow light made a pool in the hallway leading toward the back of the house. A dark figure must be the burglar. He stumbled into a wall. Then another figure appeared. How many burglars were in the house? Praying for courage and protection, she crept down the stairs.

“Halt!” Her voice came out in a squeak. Both figures stopped. She couldn’t see their features because of the light behind them, but she brandished her parasol, holding it like a sword in front of her.

“Miss Anderson? What are you doing down here?”

Lily lowered her parasol as she recognized Eli Thornton’s voice. “What’s going on?”

She could barely make out his features. And who was standing next to him? A servant? Was he being forced to help a burglar?

“Everything is fine, Miss Anderson. You need to go back to bed.” Eli spoke as both he and the other man stepped into the light. The staid butler? Why were the two of them creeping about the house in the middle of the night?

“Not until you tell me what you’re doing up at this hour.”

Eli’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he held a bowl in his hands. His expression was tense, much more drawn than earlier in the evening. Before he could answer her, a door opened farther down the corridor. “Where’s that warm water?”

The butler took the bowl from Eli and moved toward the voice.

When Lily tried to follow him, Eli stepped into her path. She brandished her parasol even though the action felt a bit silly. “Whatever is going on must be serious. Perhaps I can help.”

“It would be much easier if you returned to your bedroom, but if you’ll promise not to tell anyone about what you see …”

Lily nodded, and they entered the Thorntons’ library.

Several of the Thorntons’ slaves were in the room, most of them focused on a figure propped against the edge of Eli’s desk. The poor fellow looked a mess, his clothing in tatters, his feet bare. The coppery scent of blood filled the air. She glanced at Eli. “Is he a fugitive?”

Eli nodded. “He escaped from a plantation a few miles south of here because his master whipped him nearly to death for answering too loudly.”

Lily’s mouth dropped open. She’d heard whispers of mistreatment by slave owners, but at Les Fleurs, no slave ever suffered. “That’s inexcusable.”

Everyone had been watching her with fear, but apparently reassured by her reaction, they went back to their tasks, some offering food and water while others cleaned the poor man’s back.

Eli removed a vial from his shirt pocket and shook it vigorously. “Would you pour some water into one of those glasses?”

Looking about, Lily spied a serving tray on Eli’s desk. It held two glasses and a pitcher of water. “How much?”

“Half full.”

Lily complied and held the glass while Eli poured his concoction into it. “What’s that?”

“Laudanum. It will help him sleep.” Eli grabbed a spoon from the tray and stirred. “Then perhaps he can continue on his way tomorrow night.”

“The Underground Railroad?” Lily whispered the words. She’d heard of the escape route but never dreamed she would be privy to one of the way stations.

Eli nodded. “Now you know what a dangerous secret we’re keeping.”

“I’s sorry.” The fugitive groaned out the words. “I didn’t mean to …”

A rounded woman who might be the housekeeper patted his hand. “Don’t worry. We’re doing nothing more than our Christian duty.”

The man subsided and let Lily hold the glass of water to his lips.

“Lily?” Jasmine’s whisper drifted down the hall. “Where are you?”

“You need to go back upstairs.” Eli’s gaze met hers. “We can’t have the whole household waking up and catching us.”

Conflicting desires warred within her, but Lily could not ignore the needs of the frightened, desperate man. “I’ll reassure Jasmine, but then I’ll be back to help.”

Before anyone could argue, she retraced her steps. Jasmine was leaning over the balustrade. “It’s okay, Jasmine. It’s only a late-night guest.” She helped Jasmine return to bed. “Go to sleep.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to help.”

“Can’t I help?” Jasmine’s voice was plaintive.

Lily kissed her cheek. “You need your sleep.”

Jasmine’s lower lip protruded as Lily left her, but she must have fallen back asleep quickly, as the only sounds emanating from her were the deep breaths of restful slumber. Lily was relieved. Although Jasmine’s tender heart would have been touched, she was still a child. Helping an escaped slave was a hanging offense. She might risk her own neck, but she would not risk Jasmine’s.

The next hour passed quickly as Lily helped bandage the man’s wounds. While she worked alongside the others, the fugitive described his ordeal. He spoke of the girl he’d married by jumping the broom, as slaves couldn’t legally marry, and how he’d probably never see her again because she’d been sold to another plantation. He talked about the daily quota of cotton expected of every able-bodied slave. He even spoke about other punishments he’d endured. His back, crisscrossed by a web of gashes, bore mute testimony to the truth of his story.

Thinking of his pain made Lily sick. No human should be so cruel to another. The events of this night had been seared into her memory with the force of a brand. She would never forget.

The sun was turning the sky a pale pink as she trudged upstairs and fell into bed. Sleep overtook her as soon as her head hit the pillow, but Lily’s dreams were filled with fractured images of being chased through swamps, her parasol in one hand as the muddy water dragged at her skirts.

W
alking past the storeroom filled with crates and barrels, Lily realized the nightmares had begun to fade. Over the past weeks, they had repeated the run between Natchez and Memphis, making regular stops in Port Gibson, Vicksburg, and Greenville. Business was thriving.

If only Camellia had not been adamant about staying with Grandmother and Aunt Dahlia until they took the promised trip to New Orleans. But every load seemed slated for delivery to Memphis. Feeling torn between business and family obligations, Lily had reluctantly yielded to her younger sister’s wishes. She wanted to avoid the type of coercion that had sent her fleeing after Grandfather’s death. It wasn’t the easiest option, but she prayed it was the best one.