Honor (18 page)

“We’re just so sorry this happened,” the woman said kindly, backing out.

Honor propped Royale up with pillows and helped her eat the broth. Each sip brought new life into her.

Samuel hovered in the doorway. Eli slipped down and climbed onto Royale’s bed. He patted her shoulder, whispering, “Royale, Royale.”

Honor repeated the name silently, comforted by the child’s affection for Royale.

When the meal had been eaten, Honor rose and handed Samuel the tray. “Royale, thee needs to rest now.”

“Don’t leave me,” Royale implored, gasping.

“Mrs. Cathwell,” the innkeeper’s voice came from the hall. “If you please, the sheriff is here to speak to your husband about this case.” The innkeeper peered around Samuel, who filled the doorway. “Don’t worry about the girl’s safety. The black preacher has been waiting out back. He says while your girl sleeps, his son will sit outside the door.” Then the man spoke directly to Royale. “I took a look at him. He’s a strapping young giant. No one will get past him.”

Honor rose and, bending to kiss Royale’s forehead, whispered, “If thee wakes while I’m gone, let the young man know so he can alert the cook. Thee needs to keep eating and drinking to gain back thy strength.”

Then Honor greeted the young black man, who filled the doorway with his bulk just like her husband and had the same honest eyes. She had no doubt she could leave Royale safely in his protection.

Eli begged to be left with Royale, and the child lay down beside her and fell asleep. After being assured that the laundress would help with Eli, Honor left the room, and the preacher’s son sat down on a chair, blocking the doorway. Honor drew in deep breaths, preparing to face the legal aftermath of the kidnapping. Had the sheriff come to advise them, or had something else happened? Had the kidnappers escaped? Had the wounded one died? She quickened her pace.

The innkeeper led them to his office, a small, neat
room near the entrance, across from the inn parlor. When Honor entered, a man in his forties rose, wearing a badge. The innkeeper introduced him as the local sheriff, Obadiah Blaine, then left the office.

Blaine, who stood a good foot shorter than her husband, studied Samuel, frowning. “They tell me your husband can’t speak or hear.”

Honor bristled. “He can do both if I am present to sign for him,” she said, instantly disliking the man for the way he gawked at Samuel. “Do not think for a moment that my husband is lacking in any way.” She hadn’t meant to sign the last sentence, but she had become so used to signing all she said in Samuel’s presence that she had begun before she realized what she was signing. Well, it was the truth.

Samuel touched her shoulder. She turned to face him. He said, “Tell him—I’ve been told that the men who kidnapped my maid and nephew have been jailed. When will the trial be?”

As if mystified, Blaine watched her hand as she signed and spoke Samuel’s words. Then the sheriff frowned and shuffled his feet. “Well, we got a problem. The men say you sold the girl to them. And she ain’t got her papers. Claims they burned ’em.”

Honor gasped.
“What?”
She signed furiously what the sheriff had said. “How can thee believe that?” she demanded. “How could I sell a free woman—in a free state?”

Samuel moved closer to Honor and glared at Blaine. He signed with impatient fingers. “Tell him to stop talking nonsense. These two men kidnapped our maid and
my little nephew and tried to spirit them away. We want justice. We will have justice.”

Honor translated this with pleasure.

The man wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Well, we don’t have any witnesses—”

Throwing one hand up, Honor interrupted. “The laundress here observed the kidnapping.”

“She can’t testify in court. Blacks have no legal standing in Ohio.”

“But this is a free state,” Honor exclaimed again.

“Don’t matter. They aren’t citizens, and by the way, the girl broke the law coming into Ohio. She has to post a five-hundred-dollar bond like any other free black that comes into the state. Or she has to leave.”

Honor stared at the man, speechless, then signed his unfeeling words.

Samuel stepped forward, nudging her aside, and faced the sheriff squarely. “Tell him this. I am Samuel Cathwell. My maid and my nephew were forcibly kidnapped by two lawless men. We caught the men at the docks. The men were trying to take them away, concealed in bags, onto a keelboat. I am going to hire a lawyer, and we will prove the case against these men.” Samuel stepped farther forward, forcing Blaine toward the wall. “Justice will not be denied us. Or else.”

His back against the wall, Blaine looked as shocked as if a mountain had just moved. “You don’t need a lawyer,” he sputtered. “The city will prosecute the men.”

Honor moved closer to Samuel, signing Blaine’s words and translating her husband’s reply with relish. “We will
hire a lawyer, and he will watch the proceedings. If these kidnappers are not prosecuted to the full extent of the law, we will appeal the verdict. I have funds enough to take it to the US Supreme Court if necessary.”

Honor could hardly believe the words she was translating, but she reveled in them.

Blaine’s face reddened. “Your husband doesn’t need to tell me my business.”

Samuel replied, “We will see.”

“I need to leave,” Blaine said, nearly pinned to the wall.

Samuel nodded but did not move for several seconds as if letting this man, this maddening excuse for an officer of the law, realize whom he was dealing with. Finally Samuel stepped aside slightly so Blaine could just squeeze around him. On the way out, the sheriff slammed the door.

Honor couldn’t contain herself. Rising on tiptoe, she threw her arms around Samuel and hugged him. Then she stepped back and signed, “Thee was wonderful, amazing. I’m so proud of thee.” And she hugged him again.

His arm came around her too. “We will not rest till those two are punished. And no one will take Royale from us again. I promise you.”

“Thank thee. The sheriff will not treat thee that way anymore. He thought he could overwhelm us, bully us.”

Samuel grinned. “You handled him very well.”

Honor rose higher and began to kiss his lips. She waited, but though Samuel held her close, he did not return her kiss. She let the kiss end and remained resting against her husband in spite of his rejection. This was a man she was beginning to realize she could trust.

Someone knocked. Reluctantly Honor turned and opened the door. The innkeeper stood there. “Your maid is sleeping, and the young man guarding her is staying the night. I’m making sure your maid gets food and tea as needed.”

Honor moved to the man and clasped his hand. “Thee has become a friend to us. We will not forget thy many kindnesses.”

The man’s face flushed. “You’re good people, and I feel bad your maid was snatched from my property.”

“The sheriff says the men told him that they bought my maid from us.”

The innkeeper’s mouth dropped open. “What kind of nonsense is that?”

“The worst kind,” Honor said. She wrestled with her rampant anger.
I should not seek to do violence. My father taught me that I must control my emotions, not let them control me. The Inner Light cannot work in an angry heart.

“Will thee have Eli brought up to us? I have only enough energy to go up to our room.”

The innkeeper agreed and left them.

Honor led Samuel up to their room. As she mounted the stairs, her exhaustion made itself felt with each step. She wanted only to lie down. Samuel entered behind her, then drew her back to him and wrapped himself around her. Honor reveled in the comfort of the strong arms. She rested her head on Samuel’s broad chest, savoring their intimacy.

But a moment later, another maid brought Eli to their room. This pushed them apart. “I was scared,” the boy said and signed.

Honor sent her husband a look of regret over their having to part.

Shrugging, Samuel hugged Eli to him. Eli accepted this, then held out his arms for Honor.

Tenderness for the child filled her. She cradled him close and sat down in the chair. “My sweet boy,” she murmured over and over, “thee is safe now. God protected thee. No one will ever take thee from us again.” After several minutes of holding Eli and soothing him, he fell asleep.

Samuel lifted him gently and laid him on the bed. Then he sat on the bed, gazing at the boy.

Honor felt oddly keyed up again, as if she needed to walk, get fresh air. But she did not want to disturb this quiet moment together. Finally her restlessness and thoughts about its cause would not subside. She touched Samuel’s knee and signed words she could not hold back. “Samuel, almost losing Royale has made me eager to work toward ending slavery.”
More eager than before.

“What?” Her husband looked puzzled.

“I am opposed to slavery and want it to end.”

He sent her a look that said
impossible
. “The slaveholders need the slaves to work their crops. They will never let them go. They would lose their wealth.”

Every word he said was the absolute truth, but that didn’t mean she could not fight. She tried to think of another approach. “Even though she is a free woman, Royale was kidnapped. If there weren’t slave states and free states, she would not be in danger.”

“I don’t like slavery. But the world is the way it is, and it isn’t going to change.”

His words were flat, and his fingers bluntly told her to let the subject go.

She held in more words she wanted to say. Yet earlier she had felt something in his embrace. Something had altered between them, some connection had formed. If they had been alone, she would have let the embrace go on, leading them to a more natural relationship for a husband and wife. But Eli had needed her. She only hoped Samuel would remember the closeness of that moment. She could not forget it.

OCTOBER 21, 1819

The next morning Honor, Samuel, and Eli entered the common room, which was filled with the fragrance of bacon. Though Royale and Eli had been restored to them, Honor’s spirits surged and ebbed. The sheriff’s snide face kept coming to mind.

Rising, Sinclair Hewitt waved them over to his table. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Honor turned to Samuel, prepared to risk his reluctance. “He helped us find Eli and Royale. I am not flirting with him.” Still, what did the journalist want from them? Or want to warn them of?

“I know,” Samuel signed. She raised a brow at the unexpectedly cordial response. He sat down with Eli on his lap. The child twisted and turned, trying to see everyone around them. Samuel patiently shifted in his chair, accommodating Eli’s movements. A servant girl brought coffee and went to get their breakfast.

Honor sat on the edge of her chair, focused on Hewitt.

“I heard from the innkeeper that the sheriff is not being helpful,” Hewitt said, brushing crumbs off the white tablecloth.

Honor brought him up to date on what had happened so far. Each word raised her outrage toward the sheriff another notch. She finished with, “We are going to hire a lawyer today to represent us and Royale in this case.”

Hewitt nodded and sat back. “I know where the law offices are. I’ll be happy to go with you. I want to write up an article about this. I may not win popularity by it, but if the sheriff is not one to uphold the law regardless of a person’s color or status, that should be known.”

No doubt he was right. She’d thought people in a free state would bear more sympathy toward those who’d been freed. But might Hewitt’s writing do more harm than good for Royale?

Honor studied the journalist. “I don’t know if thee should write about it so soon. Blaine might have undergone a change of heart.”
Especially after Samuel let him know how far he would go to seek justice.

“I understand your hesitance, but I think having a journalist in attendance will cause everyone to do their duty more circumspectly, don’t you?”

Torn, Honor signed this to Samuel and asked him to decide.

“Tell Hewitt to come along but not to write anything unless our lawyer says so.”

Hewitt gazed at Samuel. “Show me how to sign yes.”

Honor beamed at the young man and demonstrated the sign for him.

Samuel nodded to the journalist. Then the serving girl delivered their plates, filled with all a person could want for breakfast. If only Honor had any appetite. Royale appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, and Honor smiled at her. When she started to rise to go to Royale, her maid shook her head and mouthed, “I’m fine.”

Royale appeared rested and was wearing clean, well-pressed clothing, so Honor merely nodded.

Still, worry over how this all might turn out twisted her stomach. She sipped her coffee and began praying for good outcomes. For Royale. And for her own future, here with her husband. Hope flickered, dimmed, but didn’t die.