Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition) (14 page)

Chloe jumped from point to point a lot.
Most
folks thought she was scatterbrained.
Paul knew better.
She was so smart s
he frequently forgot her audience couldn’t follow the dart
ing quickness of her
thoughts because she never had trouble following anybody else’s
, f
requently before they knew where they were going themselves.

“Chloe, you did it again. You skipped something somewhere. I don’t understand.”

Her trilling laughter floated out under the willows.

“Darlin’, you have been away from home for a long time. You just don’t know all the ins and outs around town anymore, that’s all.”

“So tell me.”

“Well, with the other Neg
roes, Sadie has considerable—power.
”

“Power?”

“Power,” Chloe affirmed emphatically.

“What kind of power? How do you know about it?”

“Well, I have power of my own.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Not like that. I mean, I’ve got Betsy.”

“Chloe—”

“My maid. Betsy.”

“I know who Betsy is, I just don’t kn
ow what that’s got to with this
.”

“Well, Betsy’s better than a telegraph. And she
’s a lot more than just my maid, she’s my best friend.
We practically grew up together, you know. She knows everything that goes on in town and she tells me. So I know just as much about what goes on in the Negro houses as they do. And a lot more about what goes on in the white houses than the other white folks do. Lord, I’m going to miss her!”

“Why? She isn’t coming with you?”

Chloe sighed. “Oh, she went and fell in love. Not that I’ve got any room to talk. But she went all calf-eyed and moony over one of the Thorpes’ tenants up at Bolingbroke and she’s getting married and turning into a farmer’s wife!”

Paul laughed at her woebegone expression. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“So am I!” declared Chloe emphatically. Betsy was much better company than any of the white society girls of Chloe’s acquaintance. And certainly far more experienced. She’d already lost
a lot
more than her heart to her young farmer.
And shared with Chloe breathless descriptions of the franker joys of physical love. Sometimes as Chloe lay awake in the dark and counted the days until her wedding, she thought of Paul and imagined him already lying beside her.
At such times, when her body raged in a fever that couldn
’t
yet be slacked, she wished Betsy hadn’t been quite so informative.

“But I still
don’t understand about Sadie—”

“Sadie knows mojos,” Chloe stated baldly.

“Mojos?”

“Mojos. You know, magic and love potions and things like that. The other blacks have a lot of respect for her, but they’re scared of her, too. None of them would dare cross her.”

“I don’t believe
—
”

“Believe it. I mean, she only uses good magic, but they’re all pretty sure if they made her mad enough, she could pull out some black magic real fast, too.”

Paul stared.

“Did I turn green?”

“Sadie just about raised me! She never misses a service at St. Barnabas, she hauls Joshua off every Sunday! She’s better at Episcopal liturgy than I am, and you sit there and tell me she’s the local witch woman?”

“Well,” said Chloe, shrugging again. Facts were facts and not much changed them. “She is. Didn’t know about her and your father, either, did you?”

“I’m beginning to think I don’t know too much about anything!” he exclaimed, and examined the delicate contours of his future bride’s features. “And not only do I not know any of
this
, you do! You know everything about everybody in town!”

“Not quite,” she said modestly, “
b
ut I do try hard.”

Paul
dis
solved into laughter and flung his plate aside, pulling her into his arms. Even the rigid confines of the foun
dation garments of 1883 didn’t dis
guise the underlying softness.
He pulled away, wondering suddenly if Chloe knew a lot more about a lot of things than he’d supposed. He certainly hoped so.
He didn’t know what the hell Chloe’s mother’d told her about the physical side of marriage, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t a recommendation.
All the men in town were certain Henry Duval’s male appendage had long since frozen off, considering what he had to stick it in.

“Chloe, do you know everything about everything? I mean, like marriage? Real marriage, a man and a woman, not just wedding cakes and white icing?”

“Not from personal experience,” she said.

“Well, I hadn’t supposed you did,” he said with a grin.

“But Betsy does.”

“Which
information she has shared—”

“Betsy’s very good with words.”

“Ahhh!”

“And you’d better not
dis
appoint me.”

“Betsy, she seems to enjoy it, does she?”

“Enjoy it? My Lord, she thinks it’s wonderful! Isn’t it supposed to be?” she asked, sudden alarm in her voice.

“Well, yes, but sometimes
,
ladies seem to
—”

“Bets
y says it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world, it’s like when you have to go, I mean really, really go—”

“Go?”

“Paul, for heaven’s sakes! You’re a doctor. You know people use chamber pots!”

He roared.

“Anyway, she says that’s the best she can describe it, it’s like when you really, really have to go, but you can’t right then, and then finally, when you do get to, that it feels like that, but even better.”

“My God,” said Paul in astonishment.
Best description of human orgasm he’d ever heard.

“Is it like that?”

“I—yes.
Yes, it is. And you go downtown tomorrow and pick out the very best wedding present you can think of for Betsy and tell ‘em to charge it to me.
Whatever you know she’d want, cost don’t matter.”

“That’s very generous, darlin’!
Are you sure?”

“Chloe, you have no idea of the wedding present she’s just given me, explainin’ things to you like that!”

She moved closer and leaned over, running her lips up his throat.

“Then why don’t you go ahead and show me?” she whispered.

Paul pulled back, temptation roaring in his veins. Such a lovely spot, and the trees were thicker further back, and it was only three weeks, and what possible harm could it do? His gaze fell on her face, reflecting her every thought.
Chloe would wear the glow of sexual satisfaction in a visible aura
. It
would transform her from a beautiful girl into an absolutely breathtaking woman, and the difference would be there, observable to all who knew what to look for.

Premature consummation would also subject his wife and any potential child to the tender mercies of the town matrons who kept track of all births and deaths and relentlessly backtracked the birthdate of all first children born to newly married couples. For a first child to make its appearance in the world nine months to the day from his parents’ marriage was quite
acceptable.
Fo
r such child to make its appearance eight months and one week after his parent’s marriage was not. He himself didn’t care, but damned if they were going to snicker behind Chloe’s back. It was only three weeks. Only.
Jesus.

He pushed her gently away. “Back, girl!”

“Why not?” Her voice was plaintive, edging toward hurt.

“Because you show everything you think and feel on your face. I don’t want anybody talkin’ bad about you behind your back.”

“I don’t care.”

“I care, because I love you. It’s only three weeks, Chloe. Now move over a little and let me recover.”

“From what? Are you in pain?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. But it won’t last long. Now, is it alright with you if Joshua lives with us?

“Good Lord! Do you have to ask? Of course it’s alright.”

“But you see, it’s not goin’ to be the way or for the reason that Papa wants, so you might want to think about it a little harder.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Chloe, I can’t do what Papa wants! I can’t just throw up my hands and say
‘oh, well, too bad the Devlin blood’s black
this
time
’
, and turn him into a manservant and a horse vet. I can’t do that!” He got up and began to pace the grass. “I mean, would you just look at me? Harvard and Edinburgh! And look at him! Same father, same blood. My brother’s goin’ to spend his life shining my boots? Like hell!”

“Paul.
This
is Macon.
Georgia.
Doc’s right, he’s not goin’ to be invited to dinner no matter who his papa and brother are!”

“No, but damn it, Chloe! They could have done better than that. Papa didn’t even educate him!”

“Now that’s not true, Paul, be fair!” protested Chloe.

“Not the way he needs to be educated and not the way he can be educated. He’s a smart boy,
he can do anything if somebody’ll give him the chance! He could be a doctor, Chloe! Horse vet, hell! And if Papa won’t do it, I will!”

“But your father and Sadie—”

“They passed it to me.”

“Al
l
right,” she said quietly.

“I can teach him so much, and i
f you’re willing to help me—he
needs French. France is the best country for a black man
and if you’ll help with that—”

“I said al
l
right!”

“You did?”

“I did.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He gazed at her quietly a moment and reached up to touch her cheek. “Thank you.”

“As long as you don’t make the same mistake your father did.”

“Which is?”

“Joshua might have a few ideas a
bout what he wants to do himself.
Can you handle that?
Paul Everett Devlin III?”

“I’m a lot like Papa, huh?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, most of the time that’s al
l
right.”

Chapter
Fifteen

The first
class
of Paul Devlin’s private school went into session as soon as Paul and Chloe settled into the house on Orange after their wedding trip
to Savannah. Joshua almost hyperventilated.

“Never goan
do it
!
Never! An’ you say you want Miss
Chloe teach me to speak French?
Mist’ Paul, I can’t even speak English like a white man do!”

“You can,” declared Chloe emphatically. “You can. You just have to practice.”

“I can’t!”

“Josh Devlin,” she declared, hands on her hip, ‘do
an
you be tellin’ me you can’t do somethin’!” Both Joshua and Paul stood and stared at her as she slipped effortlessly into black speech. “On account o’ you dang well
can
and I don’t
n
ever wanta hear no different out
t
a you! You hear me?”

Paul grinned and Joshua looked from one of the Devlins to the other as though they had both lost their minds.

“See?” Chloe dropped the inflection. “I can do it. Because I hear it. Every day. And if I can d
o something I hear every day—”

“So can you,” finished Paul.

“Uhhhh,” Josh moaned softly
. Within weeks, e
ven his everyday speech began to
change.

Paul and Chloe were
thrilled
.
Sadie wasn’t. Neither was Doc.
He made an unannounced visit one morning and he and Sadie cornered Dr. Devlin the younger in his office.

“Son, now I know you mean well, but what you
’re doing—”

Sadie
broke in. “Mist’ Paul, you goan
give
dat
boy ideas.”

“I hope so, that’s certainly my intention.”

“Paul, now damn it, son! Sadie and I talked about
this
. All the time, all his life. And we know what’s best for him!”

“Papa, with all due
respect—”

“Now you listen here! I didn’t ask you to take him with you so you could change every plan we ever made for him!” Everett Devlin’s voice
rose as his face took
on the red tones generally exhibited in persons with high tempers and higher blood pressures. Paul didn’t have high blood pressure and as things would turn out, never would, but on certain occasions, his temper flare
d in
flames equal to his father’s.