Princess Ces'alena (52 page)

She donned her gown and took the toys from her bed, then put a fresh diaper on her sleeping baby. She climbed into bed, bringing her daughter close to her side; her mind ran through memories of Manny, until thoughts of him lulled her to sleep.

The next morning, Lena stayed in her cabin. She had no desire to see him leave.

Manny, through all of the hustle and bustle, tried his best not to let his thoughts stray to Lena, but more often than not…his gaze settled on her cabin, where she remained closed in from view.

Unavoidably, the time came for them to depart, and he felt his heart break again, because she made no attempt to come out and stop him, as much as he hated it; he kept daydreaming, visualizing her running out at the last minute with tears in her eyes begging him not to go. He would change his mind, giving in - letting Charles proceed ahead of him while he gathered her…and her child…to bring with him. But that had been just a daydream.

Now all was loaded, and the yard was littered with those who came to say goodbye…but Lena was not among them. Morris, Jacob and Jordan traveled with them to the Hastings, to pick up Charles and Mildred…and another long goodbye ensued. From there, they traveled with them to the Alabama border, and there they parted. The entourage was bound for the Georgia coast where Manny’s ship awaited. Boarding there, it would mean weeks and weeks at sea until they reached England.

Once he arrived, Manny would join his two other merchant ships, after having stuck with the Flamingo’s Captain - Lowell Stancy; learning all there was to learn from him. The three ships would be carrying cargos of lumber that he’d purchased in the weeks before the wedding in America. Adding to the load, iron and steel that he’d purchased while in England and from there they would sail back across the Atlantic to what is now called South America through Central America to Colombia, where he’d trade his much needed cargo for coffee beans, cocoa, gold, ivory, emeralds, silver, mahogany, cedar and tobacco. He would return to England and have it auctioned off to different industries who would benefit from his cargo. Making a hefty profit from his original purchased cargos, which weren’t as valuable as the load he’d traded it for. In the end, his profits on the auctioned merchandise would triple, and sometimes even quadruple his actual investment. His goal was to completely immerse himself in his merchant business. To become a wealthy merchant - so engrossed to that end, that he would have no time or space to let his mind wonder into the world he left behind, that world of Webster Fields, and Princess Ceś alena.

Part Two

Waiting For Manny

Written by, Lawrence James

All Rights Reserved ©amberswann.com, 2008

Chapter Twelve

Back at Webster Fields, months rolled by and Morris started spending a lot of time in town again, leaving the plantation in the hands of Jordan and the overseers. Without the presence of his son, he once more took up his favorite past time of gambling. Kayleen tried to stay as busy as possible, but with Morris gone, and Manny away, there was hardly any cooking to be done.

However, Hope had the freedom of the house, to run and play at will when Morris was staying in town or in Jackson on one of his big gambling ventures. This was the time Lena spent in the house within Manny’s rooms. Dusting and keeping the house tip top and clean regardless of no one there to dirty it. It was during those times, that something happened with her. Often she would be on a search for her daughter, only to find her in the hall beneath the portrait of Royal Sun. Content and playing with something she’d found…picking her up there, she would look at Royal, and such a feeling of right would flow through her, as if the woman spoke to her from the dead. As impossible as she knew this to be, it wasn’t long before she talked to herself and Royal. So many hours alone, with her daughter to entertain, she spoke often to Royal, introducing herself with a bow. “Good morning Ms Royal, I am, Lena – once I was called, Princess Ceś alena. Not anymore, and I find, that it suits me to me, just plain o’Lena. My daughter, your granddaughter, her name is Hope. Thank you for watching her for me.” Giggling at herself, Lena, quite content, would stroll away to carry on about the mansion.

She spoke to Royal so much, that Kayleen overheard her once when she walked into Royal’s room where Lena was dusting her things and admiring all that was hers, with Hope on the floor, playing and jabbering. Standing in the doorway, she asked, “Who you talking to?” looking at her as if she had finally lost her mind.

Lena would smile uninterrupted from her polishing, and would answer, “To myself… just. talking to myself.” Kayleen stood a few minutes more staring, then shaking her head she’d leave her to it. Before long, Lena knew the mansion, better than anyone. And if no one was there but she and Hope, they played and talked to Royal, imagining her there with them. Before long, she knew where everything was, and because of growing so close to the ghost of Royal, something compelled her to ventured into the attic where she found Royal’s trunks, but her greatest discovery, was her diaries.

As if Royal herself had led her there, Lena called out joyfully, “Oh thank you! Thank you! I promise to take good care of them! I promise you that I will! Oh thank you!” Gathering them, placing them in order, she began reading them, one after another…so much of everything that had taken place in Royals life had been chronicled. Her life before Morris, the things she and Kayleen did as young girls together…her first crush. The trouble she found herself in, on and on and on.

Lena would sneak them out, one volume at a time…to her cabin, where she would lay and read them out loud to Hope…laughing at the humor of this wonderful - incredible woman – whom through her diary, she was getting to know. She’d devour one, then take it back, pick up the next doing the same; until all of her time was spent thus. Caring for Webster Field’s mansion – Royal’s home and telling her daughter stories of her father. Letting her nap in his room and in his bed each day. Teaching her who he was…his name…showing her his picture on the wall. Telling her tirelessly about her brother, and reading more of Royal Sun’s journals. To her joy and surprise…walking past Manny’s portrait one day, Hope pointed to him and said, “Daddy!” Lena laughed and hugged her daughter. “Yes baby! Daddy… that is your daddy! That is your daddy!! Oh yes baby…yes!” So excited, she ran before Royal’s portrait and asked, “Did you hear her? She knows him, she knows her father!”