Surrender to Love (2 page)

As awkward as it was, they had a place in New Orleans society…but Sabine did not.  It tore at her very soul to think that she could not f
it in. A peculiar sickness wound about her heart whenever she went to the marketplace and watched the women socializing in their respective groups.  The Negro women with their secular slang and animated language.  The white, working-class girls with their tittering laughter and flirtatious gestures toward the young men.

And Sabine stood alone, always on the outside looking in, watching with intense yearning for someone – anyone – to be her friend.

Of course, she hadn’t always been alone.  There had been the traditional scattering of childhood playmates who infrequently appeared on the doorstep – always hungry-eyed, raggedy-clothed children of freedmen who constantly struggled to make ends meet.  Mama and Papa didn’t care too much for them – and the white children were always hurriedly bundled away as if the color of her skin was the result of some terrible disease that might be catching.

But the friends never stayed, and by the time she had reached the end of her twelfth year, she found herself alone.  No girlfriends with which to share secrets; no handsome boys to come courting at her door.

Sometimes she wanted to cry – forever.  Other times, she felt the white hot tongues of rage waiting to explode, waiting to lash out at the condescending looks, the hurtful words thrown her way by persons of both races.

But she wouldn’t allow herself to stoop to their baseness.  It wasn’t as though she were a slave in bondage.  She was free – the DuBoises told her so.  She had come to live with them when she was only a few days old – after her birth mother, a young freedwoman, had died in childbirth.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with her, though Mama and Papa had reminded her time and time again that she shouldn’t exhibit her forbidden schooling in front of the customers.  She wasn’t supposed to do much of anything.  All that was expected of her in public was to keep her silence and dutifully wrap parcels.

Someday, though, her time would come.  No matter what kind of labels society tried to force upon her, she vowed, Sabine DuBois was above their petty snobbery; and when that day of triumph finally came – no matter how far in the future it may be – the world would discover that they couldn’t discard her like a piece of trash. She would show them all that she was just as good as they were.

XXX

Troy Markham swung up into the buckboard wagon and slouched lazily in the seat.  This carousing about the city and checking on his father’s properties was becoming a definite bore.  He could be doing better things with his time than riding with the Negro man who made deliveries.  Right now his friends Davey and James were probably gambling away their inheritances in some smoky back room with a woman on each arm.  He could be there, too, but no, his father insisted that he learn the family trade.

That Sabine
DuBois girl was certainly something, though, he thought, with all those dark brown curls and emerald green eyes.  She was almost worth the trip.  Troy had noticed her a half-dozen times when he stopped, and had seen the way she looked at him.  Under all the demureness he was positive dwelled a passionate fire.  Besides, he had heard all about half-bred women, although he couldn’t actually say he had actually been with one…but James had, and Troy knew the passion was there.  The thought of it brought forth a stirring in his loins that caused him to shift uncomfortably on the buckboard seat.

She was attractive; he could not deny that one bit.  Perhaps she would be worth the time and trouble.  After all, it couldn’t be
that
difficult, maybe just a little persuading here and there.

He smiled to himself smugly and leaned back, stretching his arms overhead in anticipation of what was to come.

X
XX

“Did you hear me,” Adele repeated for the third time.

Sabine shook herself out of her reverie, flushed with embarrassment at being caught off guard.  “No, Mama,” she replied quickly, “I’m sorry.  My mind just drifted a bit.”

“I should say so, miss.  You’re a bit distracted today,” she observed softly.  “You haven’t said a word since that Troy Markham was here.”  Apprehension crept into her voice with subtle undertones.  “You aren’t sweet on him, are you, child?”

Sabine shook her head shyly as she
felt her face redden.  The slight smile on her countenance, however, betrayed her every thought.

Adele said nothing, but forced her lips into a tight smile.  Raising a wrinkled, age-worn hand, she smoothed her iron-gray hair back into place.  She hoped it wouldn’t be true.  Troy Markham was not the type of man Sabine needed.  He was a Southern gentleman with Southern ideas
, and as much as Adele had tried to deny it, the fact remained that the beautiful young woman she had raised from infancy was considered only half a person by society’s standards.  If he became interested in her, it would only mean trouble.

“Mama,” Sabine prodded as she examined the strange expression on her mother’s face, “shouldn’t we be putting these bolts away?” She picked up some cloth and began to arrange it neatly on the shelves.

“You aren’t interested in that young man, are you, Sabine?”  Adele asked again.

“Oh, Mama,” Sabine replied with a laugh, the pink
stain of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.  “You always could read my mind,” she said with a blush.  “Isn’t he wonderful, Mama?  Isn’t he the handsomest man you’ve ever seen?”

“Yes,
” Adele fumbled, “he is.  But, Sabine, please remember…”

Her voice trailed off weakly, torn between dashing the fragile confidence of a young woman and forcing her to face reality. No white Southern gentleman would ever want her in the way Sabine wished.

“Remember what, Mama,” Sabine countered.

“Nothing,” Adele quickly dismissed with a wave of her hand.

“What, Mama?  What are you getting at?”

“Oh, Sabine, you’re a very beautiful girl.  A handsome gentleman like Troy would be a fool not to notice you.  It’s just that…well, you’re not old enough to understand, dear.  Simply he may not treat you as a gentleman should.”

“I’m almost eighteen, Mama,” she replied, her eyes narrowing as Adele meaning began to take shape.  “And no matter what you think, I know Troy isn’t like other gentlemen.”

“Don’t make judgments before you know the man well, dear.  And you know,” she said apologetically and patted Sabine’s hand lovingly
.  “There are just some things we cannot change.”

Sabine watched as Adele turned from her and began to stack bolts of ca
lico on the shelves.  Mama was wrong, she thought angrily as the insinuations manifested themselves clearly in her mind.  There
were
some things she could change.

But the nagging voice still persisted in reminding her that
her guardian was correct…and Sabine hated to admit it.  There just had to be some way to make him notice her, and then she would prove to Mama that she was all wrong.

“All right,” she conceded wearily, only for the benefit of Adele’s ears.  “You know he and I are…different.  People would talk.”  She had said the words so many times in the past that they now seemed mechanical.  “But I want to believe,” she burst out suddenly.  “I want to believe none of it matters.”

They stared at each other for a fleeting moment, each silently willing the other to change her mind, before turning back to the task at hand.

None of it matters, Sabine stubbornly repeated over and o
ver in her head.  It doesn’t.  If he would just talk to me, get to know me, then he would realize…I’m not so very different.

She absently ran her hand over a length of soft, pink cotton.  She wasn’t so very different…really.

Of course, she realized in a sudden dawning as he gaze remained fixed on the fabric before her.  That’s what the problem was in the first place.  She skeptically eyed her pink skirts.  He didn’t notice her because she looked so dowdy in this old, ragged dress.  It was two years old, and the fabric was faded from wear.  If she had a new dress…something to catch his eye…

Adele handed over the final bolt of cloth and glanced at Sabine.  “I’m sorry.  But it’s not as though we haven’t warned you in the past,” Adele said quietly.  “You can’t change society just to s
uit your desires.  Life doesn’t work that way, my dear.”

“I know,” Sabine replied, false rejection framing the edges of her resolute sigh.  “You’re right.  But it doesn’t mean I have to continue wearing all these old things, does it,” she added brightly as she steered away from the subject at hand.  “I mean, this dress is two years old.  The elbows are beginning to wear out, and – “

“All you have to do is ask,” Adele interjected, thankful that the discussion concerning Troy was finally at an end.  “What is it you want?”

“This,” Sabine said excitedly as she snatched up the soft cotton.  “Oh, plea
se, Mama.  I’ll never ask for another thing as long as I live.”

Eyes sparkling, Sabine held the fabric in front of her and draped a piece over her shoulder.  The thought of her imminent self-transformation brought forth a series of giggles that she could no
t suppress.  Yes, this was all she needed – and then he would notice her.

“You know we’ll give you everything you possibly can,” Adele told her with a warm smile.

Adele looked tenderly at the girl she called her daughter.  How her heart ached when she saw the manner in which others treated her, and over the years she had loved and raised her as though Sabine were her own.

But no matter how fervently she wished, she knew that the burgeoning young woman that stood before her was nothing more than loaned property from Clinton Markham.  And the thought had crossed her mind more than once that the child might
be his, but she didn’t want to face that possibility.  It would hurt far too much to confront that ugly reality.  Of course, Clinton had let them take vast liberties with her – even to the point of allowing an education – but all the same, Sabine was not really and truly theirs.  And Adele, who had never been able to birth a child, mourned the fact, but she had never been strong enough to tell Sabine the truth of her situation.  It was for the best, she assured herself many times.  It was one less thing for the girl to worry about.

“What’s this,” a masculine voice boomed behind them.

Sabine turned to face the man and smirked as his false ferocity. Graying and stoop shouldered, John DuBois peered over his small, wire-rimmed eyeglasses and pretended to be angry with his two favorite ladies.  They knew he wasn’t, though, for John could never be upset with anyone for long.

“Hi, Papa,” Sabine piped up brightly, and dashed from behind the counter to embrace him.

“It’s just girl talk,” Adele supplied as she dismissed the disappointment from her eyes.  She smiled warmly at her husband.

He threw his hands up in mock despair.  “In that case,” he responded, “I will adjourn to the back room…where I’ll be safe.”  His eyes twinkled merrily behind his spectacles.

Sabine watched with bubbling anticipation as her mother accompanied Papa to review the month’s bookkeeping.  Four weeks.  She had four weeks to create the most sumptuous gown…four weeks to transform herself into the type of girl Troy Markham would admire.

XXX

She felt gloriously wonderful and frightfully nervous all at the same time.

Sabine laid out her new dress with all its finery and examined it with pride.  She had created this.  Designed it.  Sewn every stitch.  And it was the most beautiful gown she had ever known. 
The billowing pink skirt flowed out over the floorboards, and she fingered the white ruffles across the bodice.

She settled in front of her little dressing table and gazed into the mirror.  A virtual stranger stared back.  Tan cheeks were colored with a faint, natural blush, and sparkling green eyes enhanced her beauty.  She pulled her locks off her face with a favorite pink ribbon, leaving her hair to cascade down her back.

“Sabine,” John called up, “your mother has gone to do the marketing.  Could you help put these deliveries away?”

She checked her appearance once more in the mirror, smoothing a few stray hairs back to their rightful places with a nervous hand.  She now had her chance. She drew a deep breath as she reached the bottom of the stairs and muttered the invocation she had said so many times before.

She was ready.

Putting on her most dazzling smile, she entered the main room as the delivery man entered.

Only, Troy never followed behind him.  Her smile quickly faded, and in its absence came a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  The man who lumbered through the door gave her a jagged-tooth smile.  Repulsed but the filthy, sweat-stained sight of him, Sabine averted her eyes and tried to ignore the reek that emanated from his person.

“Well, hello there, missy,” he said.

He leaned over the counter toward her as he appraised her openly…eyeing her as if he could tell what she looked like without her petticoats on!  She wanted to shrink inside her dress, to disappear altogether.