Authors: Patricia Hagan
He looked from the money to her. “I don’t mind admitting I’m tempted, but the truth is, Mrs. Youngblood, I don’t like the idea of selling off a man’s wife without his consent.”
“Scruples, Mr. Donovan?”
“Yeah, if you want to call it that.”
“Perhaps it’s time to discuss the rest of our little deal. Perhaps it will set your mind at ease.” She reached into her bag to draw out another bundle and laid it on the table as his eyes grew ever wider. “This is payment for being a good actor, because you’re going to convince Erin that it was her husband who wanted her sold after learning she’d deceived him. You are to tell the same story to anyone who works with you. If she believes that, she’ll hate him to her dying breath and will never try to contact him, much less return to Richmond.
“When he comes back,” she finished, “I’ll just tell him she ran away with another man.”
“Will he believe you?”
“Why wouldn’t he? She won’t be here. What else is he to think? I’m not worried about him hearing about her mother. She’s not exactly in our social circle, you know.”
No, he didn’t know, Nate answered silently, and he didn’t give a damn. All he knew was that for the kind of money lying on the table, he’d do just about anything. He put his hand across it, eyes locking with hers as he gave a nod of assent. “You say when it happens.”
“As soon as I find out where she is.”
“Tremayne is looking for her too.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t find her before we do, but if he does, you’d better be prepared to move fast to get her away from him and proceed with our plan.”
“For sure!” He laughed. “Because he wants to finish what he started when she stabbed him with that pitchfork, and if he messes her up, I won’t get as good a price. She’ll go for plenty as a fancy girl.”
Coolly, she advised, “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Mr. Donovan, but I’m confident I don’t want to.
“That’s your bonus, by the way,” she added, preparing to leave.
He shook his head; he wasn’t sure what she meant.
“The bonus I promised. You get to keep whatever she brings at auction. She’s all yours.”
Nate’s heart began to pound with excitement. Lordy, she’d bring top dollar, for sure. “Look, I want to get this over with quick as we can. You got any idea when your son will be back?”
“Don’t worry about him,” she called as she walked out of the office. “He hasn’t been gone very long, so it
will be awhile.”
Ryan woke up feeling as if he hadn’t been to sleep. Tossing, turning, he had spent a miserable night. After a few drinks, he’d realized he was on his way to getting drunk, and to hell with that. It didn’t solve anything, and when he sobered, usually with a headache, he always felt terrible.
He sat up to look out the porthole and see what kind of day it was going to be, not that it made any difference. The sun was glistening on the rolling azure waters, with not a cloud in the sky. A glorious late fall day. He slammed his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. The pitch and roll of the ship made his stomach lurch slightly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten very much since boarding several days ago. He wasn’t seasick. He wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t anything except miserable.
“Damn it!” he swore, leaping from the narrow bed and starting to pace around in the restrictive cabin. He didn’t like feeling as if he had run away. He’d fought a goddamn war and come out alive, only to become a coward in affairs of the heart. And why? Because once upon a time he’d had the misfortune to become involved with a scheming, conniving bitch. Instead of coming out of it stronger, he’d let himself become mired in self-pity and self-doubt. He should have stayed and fought for Erin’s love, by God, instead of using the trouble with his mother as an excuse to retreat from reality.
He heard the voice of the deck steward as he passed by his door.
“Port call. Port call. Wilmington, North Carolina. Port call in two hours.”
Suddenly Ryan knew what he had to do. Or, maybe more importantly, what he could not do, and that was keep on going all the way to New Orleans, to waste a lot of time trying to make up his mind about what he already knew.
He loved Erin.
He was going home to let her know it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eliza watched from a window as Erin came
slowly up the walkway. She looked worn, weary, and as she drew closer, Eliza could detect a large blue-and-purple bruise on the right side of her face. She noted, too, how Erin would take a few steps and then pause as if she was in pain and clutch her side.
Eliza suspected she’d been beaten, but who could have done it? And why? A lot of strange things had been going on, ever since Miss Victoria had ridden out to follow her. That had been three days ago. When Miss Victoria had come back, she was pale as a ghost, shaken, and even crying. Real tears this time. Not like when she put on for Master Ryan to make him think her heart was broken over his marriage, hoping to make him feel bad. Eliza figured she was crying with anger, because she’d stood outside her door and listened to her cursing and stomping around. She’d even smashed some things against the wall. A vase. A crystal powder box. Eliza knew because she’d had to clean up the mess, of course.
Eliza didn’t dare ask what was going on, and she was even more puzzled because Miss Victoria had always shared her miseries. This time, however, she wasn’t saying anything, and if she did, it was to yell and scream.
She had got rid of Annie, too. Eliza had eavesdropped as she asked her about the man Miss Erin had met in the maze, but Annie swore she didn’t know anything. She pretended not remember telling Miss Erin she’d found a rose at the grave. She heard the sound of several slaps, and Annie crying, and then Miss Victoria told her to report to the overseer in charge of the field workers, and if she ever set foot near the big house again, she’d be taken to auction and sold.
As Erin crossed the porch, heading for the front door, Eliza hurried up the stairs to announce she was back.
Victoria suppressed a smile as she closed the book she was trying unsuccessfully to read. She couldn’t concentrate. All she could think of was getting rid of Erin, and finally the moment was at hand. “Listen to me carefully,” she said, her voice ringing with excitement. “Go to the stable and find that boy, Thaddeus. Tell him I said, ‘It’s time.’ He’ll know what to do.”
“She looks like somebody beat her,” Eliza felt the need to inform her.
Victoria’s eyes glittered as she exulted, “Well, then, she must be very tired and in need of rest. After you’ve taken my orders to Thaddeus, you can take her some tea. Since we want to make sure she relaxes, you can lace her tea with some of the laudanum the doctor gave me for my nerves.”
“The way she looked, she won’t need anything to make her relax.”
At that, Victoria flared, “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Eliza. I told you what to do, and I expect you to do it.”
“Yes,
ma’am,” Eliza bit out the words, turned on her heel to go, but was furiously ordered to turn around.
“Now you listen to me. I’m starting to sense reluctance in you to obey my orders, maybe even rebellion. I don’t like that, Eliza. I don’t like it one little bit. And I’m warning you, if you continue this arrogance of yours, I’ll have you taken to the block.”
Eliza’s eyes widened, and she cried, “You’d do that to me? After all these years, you could sell me off?”
Victoria lifted her chin and snapped her fingers. “Just like that, if you give me cause. Now get out of here and do what I told you to do. And make sure you put plenty of laudanum in her tea. I want her to get a good night’s sleep. And send Ebner to me.”
Eliza was hurt and angry again. It wasn’t right for her to be treated like that. Not right at all. She had always regarded her relationship with Miss Victoria proudly, as a rare and special kind of friendship. But, sadly, bitterly, she realized she’d been wrong.
She hung back in the shadows of the upper hallway and waited for Miss Erin to get inside her room before moving to obey Miss Victoria’s orders. She didn’t want to see Miss Erin, because for some reason she couldn’t understand, Eliza felt sorry for her.
After sending Ebner to answer Miss Victoria’s summon, she found Thaddeus to give him the message. As he nodded in compliance, she couldn’t resist wanting to know, “What does she mean? It’s time for what?”
He thought a minute. Miss Victoria had told him he better not tell anybody what he was supposed to do, but like the rest of his people, he knew not to cross Eliza and get her down on him. “Well, I ain’t supposed to tell,” he pointed out, so she’d appreciate him obliging with the information, “but she means it’s time for me to ride into Richmond to the big ’bacca warehouse and find Mastah Nate Donovan and tell him the same thing—that it’s time. For what? I just don’t know.” He finished with a toothy grin.
Eliza knew a lot of things about what went on in the world out there, and one of them was that Nate Donovan was believed to be the meanest slave trader around. It was said he’d tear a suckling babe from his mama’s teat if he had a buyer for it. And while she might not know what was going on, she was sure if it had anything to do with Nate Donovan, it could only mean trouble.
Thaddeus watched as she headed back to the big house and thought how he couldn’t ever remember seeing her with her shoulders stooped as if she were carrying the weight of the world. Well, he just wasn’t surprised at anything anymore. The drums were beating every night, and he’d heard Tulwah was working his
obeah
at the Tremayne place, and things were real bad over that way. So it was only natural, he guessed, that the pall had spread to Jasmine Hill. He only hoped Master Ryan came back soon, because he was sure he’d find a way to keep the evil spirits away. He was a good man. And Thaddeus liked Miss Erin, too. He was worried about her, because when she’d come walking up a little while ago, she looked like something one of the barn cats had dragged in. But Master Ryan would fix everything. Thaddeus was sure of that.
He jumped on his mule and took off to obey his mistress.
Eliza looked from Ebner to Miss Victoria and fearfully asked, “But why? Why do you want Ebner to tell Miss Erin that Master Ryan is back, when he’s not?”
Victoria gritted her teeth. More and more lately she was starting to question Eliza’s loyalty. It wasn’t anything particular she could put her finger on. There was just an air about the old woman that made her wary. Testily, she cried, “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now I want you to make sure all the doors to her room are locked and remain locked.”
Eliza bit her lip. Evil. It was all evil. And she wasn’t even sure what it was but knew she had to obey without question.
Erin realized it was probably useless to pull the bell cord but did so anyway. She supposed she would have to fend for herself till Ryan returned, as Victoria obviously intended to make her life miserable. Well, no matter. Personal discomfort was of no consequence. All she was concerned with was her mother’s whereabouts. Oh, dear God, she only hoped Tulwah was right when he said Sam Wade had secret contacts, and he would be able to trace where she’d been taken. Legal wheels would then be put in motion to free her from whatever fate had befallen her.
She went to the window to look down at Henrietta Youngblood’s grave. From such a distance, it was difficult to see whether a rose had been left in the vase. Of course, she’d have to go to the labyrinth opening to check on that site. She couldn’t depend on Annie to do it for her, either. It was all up to her now, and she was so tired.
How she longed for a bath, but the tub was empty, and she lacked the strength to bring up water pail by pail herself, especially with her injured side. Tulwah had run experienced fingers over her rib cage to probe, and sensed, he said, a cracked bone. She would have to take it easy for a while. Well, she grimly reflected, turning away from the window, what other choice did she have? All she could do was wait, and pray.
She removed her soiled clothing and put on a robe. Her stomach gave a hungry lurch. Surely she could make it back downstairs to the service kitchen and find some cold biscuits; anything to quell the gnawing emptiness.
Just as she was about to leave the room, there was a soft, almost hesitant knock at the door. She hoped it wasn’t Victoria, spoiling for another confrontation. She just wasn’t up to it.
She was surprised to find Eliza standing there holding a tray. “I saw you were back.” She kept her eyes down, not looking at her. “I thought you might like some tea and spice cake.”
“I would. Oh, thank you, Eliza.” It was easy in that grateful moment to forget every unkind thought she’d ever had about the woman. She waved her in. “This is so nice of you. I didn’t know what to do with Annie forbidden to serve me. I was going to take a bath, and—”
“I can get you some water,” Eliza was quick to offer. She figured she could do that much, and maybe Miss Victoria wouldn’t find out about it. The poor girl, she noted, looked awful. The bruise up close was worse than she’d thought. And her eyes were dull, with dark circles, and the little puffiness revealed she’d been doing a lot of crying.
Erin smiled, shook her head in wonder. “You’re an angel.”
Eliza hurried out, not wanting Miss Erin’s gratitude or praise. It made her feel guilty, and she wasn’t sure why. All she knew was that she felt like whatever bad things had happened, or might happen, she somehow had a hand in causing them, and she didn’t like the feeling. Not at all.