“Call me Beau, please, mademoiselle.”
Beau’s manner definitely reminded her of Raimond. Thinking back, she remembered him mentioning four younger brothers. Could Beau possibly be one of them? Like Raimond, Beau had a handsomeness that was positively overwhelming, but it didn’t touch her with the intensity of the major’s charm.
Still looking into Sable’s eyes, Beau said, “Mother, maybe you would like to invite Mademoiselle Clark and Madame Jackson to the rally tonight.”
“What rally?” Sable asked. She sensed his interest in her as surely as she felt the sunshine beaming down on them.
“We are rallying to demand something be done about the freedmen’s plight,” Juliana LeVeq explained. “Hundreds are arriving in the city daily, and no provisions have been made for their welfare. We have not an inch of space left in our churches and shelters to house them. Many of the refugees want to work but are being denied free access to jobs. Roving bands of white toughs are robbing them. There are even reports of refugees being killed for merely saying they are free. The situation is critical, and no one seems to have the authority to do anything about it.”
Beau told Sable and Verena, “Mother is on every committee in town and adds her name to every new one that is formed. Attempting to keep up with her can be very tiring, Mademoiselle Clark, so be warned.”
Sable admired women of action. She wouldn’t care to spend her life doing nothing but shopping, entertaining, and going to balls, as some of the women she’d met here were wont to do. “Do you need volunteers to work with the children?” she asked.
“Heavens, yes,” Juliana exclaimed. “We need teachers, folks to write North for aid. We could use a thousand spellers—”
“Where can I sign on?”
Juliana smiled. “I’ll send a coach for you tonight and we’ll talk further, agreed?”
Sable nodded. “Agreed.”
Juliana then turned to Verena. “My apologies. I suppose I should have asked you if I may have Elizabeth. After all, you are her employer.”
Verena waved her off. “Elizabeth’s evenings are her own. I’m honored you would invite her along. As for me, I’m too old to fight. I came to New Orleans to die, and I intend to enjoy myself by doing absolutely nothing until the time comes.”
“She’s going to outlive us all,” Sable countered drolly.
Everyone laughed, and shortly thereafter they said their good-byes.
Beau kissed Sable’s hand once again. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle Clark. I hope to see you this evening.”
“It has been a pleasure meeting you also.”
After he and his mother walked off to their coach, Sable helped Verena to their own rented hack.
While Sable worried over how to approach Mrs. LeVeq with questions about her possible ties to Raimond, Verena said sagely, “That Beau is a very handsome man. You might want to set your cap after him. Even a half-blind old woman like me could see he was bowled over by my lovely Elizabeth.”
“You are not to play matchmaker, Verena.” If Raimond and Beau were indeed siblings, she saw no future in any dealings with Beau.
But Verena pretended she hadn’t heard a word. “Looks just like his father. Juliana has four—or is it five sons? I can’t remember. It might even be six. Whatever the number they’re all as handsome as a sunset.”
“Do you know her husband?” Sable asked as the hack started up the street.
“I did, but he’s been dead many years now.”
“So she is a widow.”
“Unless she has remarried during my years in Boston. Beau looks just like his late papa. You’d do well to travel under her wing. She is well known and was wealthy at one time. If anyone can find you a suitable husband, it will be Juliana.”
“I don’t need a suitable husband, Mrs. Jackson,” Sable protested.
“So you keep saying, but suppose I die, what then? You have no family and no one to care for you. Times are too chaotic to try and make your way alone. Didn’t you hear Juliana talking about all the problems?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Those will be your problems if we don’t find you someone.”
“Finding someone is not my priority right now, Verena.”
“Well, it should be.”
Smiling at Verena’s singlemindedness, Sable shook her head and sat back to watch the city go by.
That evening, Juliana’s coach arrived promptly at eight. As Sable stepped into it, she beheld the sight of Juliana on one seat and four handsome, grinning young men squeezed onto the other. She recognized Beau, but not the others.
Juliana explained, “Elizabeth, my sons. Beau, you’ve met. Beside him are Archer, Drake, and Phillipe.”
They all greeted her at once and Sable nodded back, although she felt a bit confused.
“They all wanted to meet you,” Juliana informed her dryly.
Sable took a seat beside Juliana. The son named Archer drawled, “You weren’t lying, Beau. She is beautiful.”
Embarrassed, Sable had no idea what to say, but she prayed they would reach the rally soon.
“Where are you from, Elizabeth?” asked dark-eyed
Drake. His eyes matched his skin. Of the three brothers, he favored their mother most of all.
“Georgia,” she replied. She saw no reason to lie because she doubted they could link her to her real self, given such limited information.
Archer, never taking his eyes off Sable, replied, “His Highness was stationed there for a time.”
Sable wondered whom he meant.
Juliana came to her rescue once again. “He’s talking about his eldest brother, Raimond. It’s how they refer to him when they are being sarcastic. He’s in the Sea Islands presently. I expect him home within the month.”
Sable felt her world briefly totter. So these people were his family. The enormity of the realization made her both elated and afraid. She wanted to blurt out the whole tale, but she didn’t know any of them well enough yet to make such a confession. What would they think of her if they found out her true past? She decided to bide her time, and keep her secret until Raimond returned.
The rally took place in one of the city’s Black churches. Speaker after speaker came to the pulpit to denounce the government for not offering a hand to the freedman. There was talk of a group of prominent men going to see Congress to ensure that their concerns were heard. Freedmen were then asked to step up and tell their stories. Most related tragic tales similar to the ones Juliana had mentioned that morning outside the church. They spoke of being beaten by angry former masters and being thrown off plantations for refusing to sign contracts that gave them only a tiny share of any profits a former master made from their labor. One man stood up and related how he and a group of men had set out for Shreveport to find work, only to be set upon by thugs who swore to kill any Blacks who called themselves free. The thugs stole their horses and money, then set all their belongings on fire.
In the end, petitions were passed around for everyone
to sign. The leaders vowed to take them to army representatives the next morning.
For the next two weeks, Sable spent all her free evenings helping on Juliana’s many committees. She wrote letters to the Northern aid societies on behalf of the crowded schools, asking for teachers, clothing, and supplies. She took baskets of food to church basements and wherever else refugees were being housed. There was sewing to do and blankets to distribute. Many a dawn found Sable having worked the night through, but she dismissed her weariness. She was a freed woman too, and were it not for the guidance of the Old Queens, she could be the one in need.
Sable especially enjoyed the company of Juliana’s sons, even if it did appear they were competing for her attention. Archer, who owned a hotel and one of the best restaurants in town, escorted her to the market; Beau, the artisan, took her to the theater, where Blacks had box seats on the second tier. Drake, a builder and architect, took her on a tour of the city. And she had a chance to view Congo Square and other landmarks with Phillipe, a merchant seaman.
The brothers brought Sable flowers, candy, and oranges. They were so competitive she started keeping a tally of where she went and with which brother, so she could not be accused of playing favorites. Juliana commented one evening that her sons reminded her of a litter of puppies all vying to be the one Sable picked to take home.
In truth, Sable didn’t want to take any of them home. Although she had come to care for them all, her heart was already taken. Drake was funny, Archer was smart, and Beau and Phillipe were two of the handsomest men in the city, but they did not move her, not the way their brother had.
Raimond LeVeq finally arrived in New Orleans during the first week of July. Juliana was so glad to see
him walk in the door that for a moment, she could do nothing but stand there, feast her eyes on him, and allow silent tears to fall down her cheeks. As tears of joy welled in his own eyes, Raimond held his arms open, and she ran to be enfolded. He held her tight, as tight as he could because he loved her and had missed her so much.
Once they could bear to part, Juliana, wiping away her happy tears, took him by the hand and led him into the salon. Raimond looked around the fondly remembered room and was disturbed to see that many paintings and other fine pieces of art were missing. Most of the furniture was gone too. His mother had been collecting beautiful things all her life. Knowing she’d had to sell many of her adored possessions in order to eat made him vow to restore as much of her way of life as he could. As dire as her circumstances must have been, she’d never once written to any of her sons to complain. Even now, dressed in an old gown that would have once been relegated to the rag pile, she stood proud and erect.
“It’s so good to have you home, my son.”
“It’s good to be here. How are you?”
“I am fine.”
“And the Brats?”
She chuckled. “Your brothers are fine as well. They are all out at the moment, no doubt over at the church competing for the affections of a lovely young woman named Elizabeth Clark.”
“All of them?” he asked surprised.
“They’re acting like puppies in a box. You should see them.”
“The woman is enjoying all the attention, I assume.”
“No, she isn’t. To be truthful, she finds their suits embarrassing.”
“So would I.”
They both laughed, but Raimond saw sadness in his mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you buried Gerrold.”
Juliana had explained the circumstances surrounding his brother’s death in the belated letter she’d sent last August. Gerrold had received a fatal ball to the chest while trying to bring the body of a dead comrade back from behind enemy lines.
Juliana stared off a moment, then said in a voice thick with grief, “His captain said the Rebs wouldn’t let them retrieve his body for three days. Every time I close my eyes, I see him lying there alone.”
Raimond held his mother while she cried. She was not prone to emotional displays, but she loved her sons as much as she loved life. To lose one had been akin to losing a part of her heart. Raimond knew how much she hurt because his grief was just as great.
Juliana said, “We were worried about Ginette for a while. I seriously thought she would do herself harm. Her parents are thinking of sending her back to Martinique, hoping it will revive her spirit.”
Gerrold’s fiancée, Ginette, had been a friend of the family all her life. She and Gerrold had loved each other very much. “I’ll stop in and see her in a few days,” Raimond promised.
“She’d like that, I’m sure.”
Raimond spent the next half-hour telling her of his work with the contraband towns being established in the Carolina Sea Islands, and of the hopes and dreams of the former slaves who’d been settled there. “How’re things here?” he finally asked.
“Property values have plummeted. Credit is almost nonexistent, and when the Yankees took over in ’62, after the Battle of New Orleans, they burned the property of everyone, no matter the race.”
One of the properties torched had been Raimond’s shipyard. Luckily, he’d had the good sense to send his merchant fleet south to relatives in Cuba just before the Union navy came calling, and by so doing had safeguarded his future. It had not been enough, though. He and his friend and business partner, Galeno Vachon, had
lost a fortune in lumber, warehouses and goods. They had funds stashed in banks in major cities all over the world, but not even they could easily absorb such monumental losses.
“Everyone I know is living hand to mouth,” Juliana confessed. “At one time the free Black families here owned millions of dollars in property and businesses, but now many of us are no better off than the freedmen.”
Juliana had always been an astute businesswoman, but not even she could turn a profit without money to make initial investments.
“How much have you lost?” Raimond asked.
“Nearly everything. What the Yankees didn’t burn, they confiscated, and taxes are outrageous. Oh, there’s money in Paris and Havana, but it will take time to find a bank here with the means to secure it. To right the family ship, I’ll need a large infusion of funds, preferably gold, as quickly as possible. Property can be picked up for a song right now, if you can sing the tune.”
Raimond had a sizable estate awaiting him in Havana from Juliana’s paternal grandfather, an old pirate comrade of the notorious Lafitte. The old man had been very generous in his will, but the conditions under which the property could be accessed had not been to Raimond’s liking. Now, because he knew how hard his mother had been struggling to keep her head above water, he’d made arrangements to fulfill the conditions of the will.
“In about ten days your accounts should be full again, Mama.”
Juliana’s face showed her consternation. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve made arrangements so you will have the funds you need.”
Juliana knew her eldest son well, and when he wouldn’t meet her eyes, she realized something was amiss. “What have you done, Raimond?”
“Nothing that I did not think over long and hard.”
“Tell me.”
When he did, his mother could only stare.
“You will have to marry to gain that inheritance!” his mother exclaimed.