A Question of Class (22 page)

The fact that she wouldn’t see him again after he dropped her off at the Mount hit full force, and she gave a quiet gasp.

“What’s wrong?” His voice sounded worried.

“Nothing,” she replied. They didn’t have long. She hated to leave him like this, after they’d been so awful to each other.

“I’m sorry about what I said about Dolly.”

Benjamin’s body tensed beneath her arms. “I shouldn’t be living in the past.”

“It’s hard to prevent sometimes. I do appreciate you helping me find my sister. And I’m sorry you’ll never be able to see yours again. I should never have said what I did.”

“I’m glad to have been of service.” She couldn’t see his face, but she heard a break in his voice, one she didn’t expect.

“One thing that helped me when I missed Sophie was remembering the last time I saw her laughing, happy,” she said. “The day before I was sent away with Mr. Delcour, I found Sophie playing outside in the front yard. The roses were in bloom and she’d go up and sniff one, then kiss it, and then she’d turn to me with the most beautiful smile. I half expected her to try eating one of the blooms next.”

Benjamin gave a slight shake, as if he were holding off a deep pain.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“No.” He turned his face and Catherine saw a single tear run down his cheek. She lifted up her hand and brushed it away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel sad.”

“It’s not that,” he said, but he didn’t continue.

“When Mr. Delcour talked about the uprising, he said he’d tried desperately to save your sister, if that helps at all.”

Benjamin scoffed and his body stiffened against hers again. “I was there, I saw everything. He did nothing of the sort.”

“I thought you’d been knocked out. Isn’t that what you told him?”

“I’ve told your husband many things that are untrue. That detail in particular. If he’d known the truth, he would’ve set his marauders on me much sooner than this.”

“What happened?”

“Are you sure you want to know? It may make you see your husband in a different light.”

“I don’t see my husband in a good light as it is,” she said. “I’d like to know the truth. Please tell me.”

For a time they moved forward in silence. Catherine didn’t dare make a sound, in case it broke the spell. She wanted Benjamin to confide in her.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was hard as steel. “The evening of the uprising, there was tension throughout the island. I had recently turned ten, and Dolly had given me a set of watercolors for my birthday. I’d insisted on staying at Delcour’s estate that evening, instead of with my parents, so I could draw her. I’d done a fairly awful job of it, but I remember she showed me how to frame a face on the paper, and how to blend the colors.”

Catherine held her breath, hoping he’d continue.

“That night, after we’d all gone to bed, I was awakened by screaming and drumming. Dolly came running into my room, helped me dress and led me downstairs. When we stepped outside I saw fires on the hillside all around us, and we could hear chanting coming from the darkness.”

“You must’ve been terrified.”

“Delcour gathered up all the valuables he could find and put them in an enormous valise. We jumped into an open-top carriage with their driver and headed for the port.”

He stopped, and Catherine wished she could see his face. She could tell his jaw was clenched. She pulled closer to him and rested her head on his back.

“We were almost there when a group of slaves appeared in the road ahead. They were carrying axes and machetes. There was no time to turn around. Delcour cowered on the floor of the carriage, as low as he could get, clutching his valise as if it were a shield. Dolly ordered me out of the back of the carriage and told me to run to the jungle. I did, I ran as hard as I could, thinking she was right behind me. Once I made it to the underbrush by the side of the road, I stopped and looked back.”

“What did you see?”

“The men dragged Dolly and the driver out of the carriage, my sister was screaming and kicking. I heard her yelling my name and telling me to run, to get out of there.”

“Today, it must’ve been...” Catherine trailed off.

“Similar. Yes. Seeing that man attack you made me want to kill him.”

“What happened in Haiti? What did you do?”

“I couldn’t move. It was as if I were stuck in place. I wanted to run and save her, but I was so scared. I recognized several of the slaves, men that Delcour had beaten or whipped or otherwise made their lives hell. My sister was putting up a good fight, and as they were grappling with her, I noticed Delcour climb into the front seat, still clutching the valise. He opened it and tossed out everything he’d taken from the house, the candlesticks and the silver, into the mob. As they fought each other for the treasure, Delcour took the reins and disappeared down the road, toward the safety of the ships in the harbor.”

“My God. He abandoned both of you.”

“Are you surprised?” he asked.

“No. I’m not surprised at all.”

“I saw them bent over my sister, brandishing their axes and their machetes, and her screams died quickly, as did those of the driver. It was fast. And they moved toward the harbor after that, eager to find more victims.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I should’ve saved Dolly.”

“You were only ten years old. You were facing an angry mob. You were right to do what you did. Otherwise you would’ve been killed also.”

“There were times when I wished I were dead.”

“Today I’m glad you were alive and well. You saved me. You realize that, don’t you? And you saved Sophie.”

He didn’t answer.

“How ever did you get off the island?” she asked.

“I headed the opposite direction, to the east. I hid up in a tree by the shoreline, scanning the horizon. Whenever I slept I dreamt of Dolly’s cries and the paralyzed look in Delcour’s face. After two days I flagged down a passing ship. By then, I was filthy, hungry and exhausted, and I vowed I would avenge her death.”

“And you will. We have the ledger, you can give it to the magistrate and they’ll see what he’s done.”

“I wish I could see him hanged,” snarled Benjamin.

“Once the elite realize they’ve been tricked and the wine they’ve paid a lot of money for is swill, he may well be. The upper class doesn’t like to be made fools of.”

They turned down the driveway of the Mount and dismounted. Benjamin sat down on the front steps and leafed through the ledger while Catherine took the bottle of Yquem out of the satchel and placed it on the foyer table. She was tossing her cloak on a chair when she heard a strange sound come from Benjamin.

“What is it?” She stepped back toward him.

“It’s no good. Delcour knew what he was doing.” He pointed to the book. “The ledger was written in code. It’s useless.”

17

Catherine sat beside Benjamin and took the ledger. She leafed through the pages. There were two columns, with dates and numbers, along with several strange symbols.

“He was smart,” he said. “I’m fairly certain one column is a list of wines Delcour sold, and the other is what was actually imported. He didn’t write down the names. Instead he’s used these symbols. This is the proof I’ve been looking for, but only Delcour knows what it really means.”

“Perhaps we can figure it out,” she said.

Benjamin gave her a dubious look. “There’s no time. And to be honest, I can’t be bothered anymore.”

“There has to be a way.”

Benjamin shook his head.

Catherine stood. “Let’s go inside and clean you up.”

As they headed down to the kitchen, Sophie charged in from the parlor. Freddie was close on her heels, bounding behind like an excited puppy dog.

“Freddie let me play the pianoforte.” Sophie grabbed Catherine’s hand. “I was good, wasn’t I, Freddie?”

Freddie smiled and laughed and Sophie seemed relaxed and happy.

“Can we stay here, Cathy?” she asked. “I counted and there are fourteen rooms, right Freddie?” Sophie received confirmation from Freddie and settled her gaze on Benjamin. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong with Mr. Thomas?”

“A minor mishap,” said Benjamin, touching his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sophie, Mr. Thomas and I have to go down to the kitchen,” said Catherine. “Why don’t you and Freddie play something for us?”

Sophie and Freddie ran back into the parlor, and Catherine and Benjamin were only halfway down the stairs that led to the kitchen before a banging of dissonant chords reached their ears.

“You’ll have to get her some lessons,” said Benjamin.

“She’s eager, I suppose,” said Catherine.

Catherine sat him at the table while she found a bucket of water, some soap and a clean rag. The corner of the kitchen where the fire had started was charred, but Freddie had done a good job straightening up and cleaning the rest of the room.

Benjamin sat and Catherine gently washed the wound on his face. “It’s nasty, but I don’t think it will leave a scar.”

He pulled away from her touch. “That’ll do.”

Embarrassed, Catherine sat back on her heels and squeezed out the rag into the bucket.

“What do we do now about Mr. Delcour?” she asked.

Benjamin sighed. “It’s over. I don’t mind, really.

“But that means he gets away with it.”

“With what? Swindling a bunch of rich folks? Does that matter?”

“Yes, particularly when those are the people he most wanted to impress.”

“We don’t have much time to discuss this. Once Carpenter gets word of what we’ve done he’ll be sending out more of his men to find us, and this is the first place he’ll look. I’d say we have at the most a few hours. You and Sophie need to get to safety.”

“Yes. Of course. I’ll take care of that,” she said. “But what about the Yquem? I promised I’d split the proceeds with you. And I intend to keep that promise.”

“I thought about that. You won’t be able to sell it anywhere in this town, or even this country. The only way to get the money is to go to Paris, where its value is understood.”

Catherine thought about it. He was right; she had in her possession an extremely valuable, but utterly useless, bottle of wine. If she sold it in New York, it would be traced back to Morris. Wine merchants in other towns might not understand its true worth. Only back in France could it be properly assessed.

“I’ll have to get to France to sell it, that’s all,” she said.

“And how will you get there? I assume you’ll ask your friend for passage?”

“Yes. That’s what I’ll do. Sophie and I will sail to France. We can meet there and I’ll give you your half.” She tried to keep her voice business-like, but she couldn’t stop a note of hopefulness from creeping in.

Benjamin shook his head. “It’s all yours. I don’t want anything to do with it. I should never have come to America in the first place.”

“I see.” She rose and tossed the rag in the washbasin. “And you should feel free to go, if there’s nothing more here. You’ll need to get far away.”

Catherine didn’t turn around as she spoke. She didn’t want Benjamin to see her heart was broken. They’d spent the past week together, almost inseparable, and she hadn’t realized how wrenching the parting would be until now. She heard him slowly get up and walk toward the stairs.

“Wait,” she said.

He turned around warily.

“Come with me.” She moved past him and down a long, dark hallway.

Catherine paused outside the wine cellar door and lit a candle. She reached up, plucked the key from its resting place and put it into the lock, hearing a satisfying click.

“Why are you taking me here?”

Catherine opened the door and stepped inside where cool air enveloped her. She took down a bottle from the far shelf. “We might as well enjoy some wine from Mr. Delcour’s private collection while we can. One last drink?”