Read The Abolitionist’s Secret Online
Authors: Becky Lower
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Historical
But after Jacob’s death, and with David out west, she had welcomed, and even encouraged, the attention Robbie had cast her way, even though her heart belonged to Bellewood. Still, a girl like her didn’t have too many opportunities for flirtation, so she basked in the glow of Robbie’s attention.
When she arrived at his home unannounced this afternoon, she knew her behavior would send a signal. After all, Robbie was a gentleman farmer, living alone on the outskirts of town with just a couple of slaves to help him. Any woman was taking her reputation in her hands when she called on a man living by himself. It just wasn’t done. She timed her appearance to coincide with him coming to the house for his evening meal. She sent the female slave who was preparing the dinner away, and took over her chores, placing the meal in front of Robbie herself. She paused as she remembered his words when he first became aware of her in his house.
“Well, aren’t you a delicious surprise,” He purred as he walked into the kitchen from the fields. He immediately forgot about the meal and wrapped his arms around her, feasting on her lips instead. She laughed and shooed him to the table, where she dished up the meal.
He sat at the rough-hewn table and pulled her onto his lap, ignoring the feast in front of him. Blanche sensed his erection under her bottom and she giggled like a schoolgirl, returning his kisses.
“I thought you might enjoy your meal better with a little something to wash it down.” She reached across the table and poured him a mug of ale.
He took a deep gulp of the ale before returning his attentions to her. “I can think of something else I’d rather taste.” He brought his mouth back to hers.
She ran her fingers through his wheat-colored hair, which was a bit longer than most southern men wore it. “You know, Robbie, I have always liked the way you look.” She ran her hands over his chest, which was hard and trim from laboring alongside his slaves every day. His face glowed with a healthy tan, and his hair had sun-kissed highlights. Blanche ran her hands over his cheek and wove her fingers back through his beautiful hair. “And I like the way you feel.”
Robbie’s callused fingers ran over her cheeks as his tongue begged for entry into her mouth. She gasped in delight and he took advantage of the opening to invade her mouth and do delicious things to her. Blanche moaned and squirmed in his arms, making Robbie’s ardor ratchet up a notch.
He pushed the meal out of the way, and meat, potatoes, and dinnerware crashed with a thud to the floor. Blanche registered the thunder of the crockery as it broke into pieces, but she was so caught up in the unusual feelings Robbie stirred up in her to think much of it. Her heart beat out of her chest as he bent her back over the top of the table and ran his hands down her body, cupping her breasts. Her breath came in ragged bursts, matching his. No man had ever touched her breasts before, and she now wondered why she had denied herself the pleasure for so long.
“Oh, Robbie,” she wailed, and begged him to continue his exploration.
When he moved his lips, and removed his wicked tongue from her mouth, she moaned her displeasure at the loss. But then he locked onto one of her breasts, sucking it through the cloth of her dress while still fondling the other. Her nipples budded and became hard little nuggets under his hands, and her body, with a mind of its own, rose up to beg for more. She had no idea sin could be this delightful. The room spun around as Robbie drove her wild with excitement. She moaned again as Robbie undid the buttons of her dress and pulled a breast into the open air. His hot breath blew across it as he took the tip into his mouth and suckled like a babe.
And there was more. As Blanche remembered what else had happened at that dinner table, she backed herself up against a tree in the Bellewood yard and let herself relive the afternoon again. She had thought of little else since she left Robbie’s side.
She closed her eyes and revisited the wonder of Robbie’s mouth sucking on her breast. She lost track of time as she lay on the table in Robbie Johnson’s kitchen, with unexplored sensations riveting her body. She was getting damp again between her legs now as she thought of Robbie’s lips on her bosom.
But Robbie had done much more than torment her breast. He wove a hand under her skirts and began to caress her thigh. She knew she should protest, but her mind only registered the shivers of delight he was evoking in her body, which ricocheted in every direction out from her core. She gasped, she moaned, she moved like a wanton under him. When he reached her center and began to stroke her curls and delve into the wetness, she cried out in delight. When he pushed his hard erection into her, she opened her legs and begged for more. Yes, Robbie Johnson had taken the prize she had meant to give to David. But Robbie didn’t just take it. Blanche had given it to him with no regrets.
As she pulled herself together and rose from the table, she could barely believe what had just happened. She had sex, for the first time ever, and it was on a crude table in the kitchen of Robbie’s home! She left her precious maidenhead on the top of that little table. If Susan Whitman thought Heather was a whore, what would she think of Blanche’s wanton behavior? Robbie proposed to her immediately after he took her, and she accepted. He could not stop kissing her and caressing her, and she let him lead her to the bedroom for another sensual coupling before she left his side. Now, Robbie and her father would work together to make Robbie’s farm as expansive as her father’s was. Blanche couldn’t wait to return to Robbie’s side and to his bed.
Blanche looked up at the window to David’s room one more time. If he and Heather had the same feelings for each other that she and Robbie did, Blanche would not come between them. She would give Susan back her chips. She sighed, brushed away a tear and turned to leave Bellewood, the home she loved and hoped someday to live in. She loved Robbie more than she loved Bellewood. She had nothing left to give David.
By the end of the week, Heather had four students at her nightly sessions. Jericho was exceedingly bright. He had the entire alphabet memorized already, and was moving on to writing his full name. The others were a young woman about Heather’s age, and two young girls who were Jericho’s playmates.
Heather didn’t ask about the other slaves and their reluctance to attend her sessions. She figured they’d come around if and when they were comfortable. For now, she was content with just the four pupils. She and Colleen had planned an arrangement for hiding the students or assisting them in escaping out the back of the cottage, should the need arise, so Heather had done what she could to protect these brave people who came to her door nightly, desperate for an education. She was aware of the notion southerners held that slaves didn’t have the mental capacity for knowledge and complex thoughts, but she had nightly proof to the contrary, and she took comfort in knowing she was helping these people, in her own small way, to a better life.
As her pupils took their leave for the evening, Heather’s state of excitement revved up. David would be here soon, for his much-anticipated nightly visit. Since her first evening in the cottage, David had expanded her sexual knowledge a bit more each night, showing her ways of making love without actual penetration. His busy fingers and his mouth kept her in a constant state of arousal while he was beside her. After he left, she found she could accomplish almost the same state of arousal by just thinking about him and what delights of the flesh he had introduced her to during the evening. She eagerly waited for the knock on the door, and her body responded as she thought about his upcoming visit.
When David finally rapped on the doorway, it was much later than usual, and Heather’s emotional state was close to a frazzle with anticipation. She was surprised at the gush of dampness between her legs when finally the knock came at the door. He swept in and wrapped his arms around her in a passionate embrace, stealing her breath. He broke from her kiss, and rested his chin on the top of her head. She could already feel his hard shaft against her abdomen and smiled at her ability to arouse him so completely with a mere embrace.
“I apologize for the lateness of my arrival, darling, but I was in the midst of another heated discussion with Simon Beaumont about buying Bellewood.”
Heather pulled back from him so she could look at his face. She thought he had looked a bit distracted when he entered. Now she understood why.
“Does Mr. Beaumont not want to purchase the land?”
“I think Simon is doing his daughter’s bidding. Blanche and my mother still think I’m going to acquiesce to their wishes, break off my engagement to you and send you back to New York. They want to keep me here in Georgia until they accomplish their mission, and they think my not being able to sell Bellewood will make that happen.”
Heather led David over to the couch and they sat beside each other, holding hands.
“If I’m forced to stay here and labor on the plantation, I’ll be stuck here for years, maybe forever. Father left me with all sorts of debt to pay back, and I just don’t see how it’s possible without a major sale.”
“So what will we do now? You desperately need income right away to help pay off some of your father’s most immediate debts, don’t you? Can I help you by getting a job, maybe in one of the shops in town? Or at the schoolhouse?”
David expelled a breath and smiled at her. “Yes, I need money, and it’s sweet of you to offer to look for a job. I appreciate that you want to help. But I need far more money than you could bring home by holding a position in a store or a school of some sort. I can feel Father’s creditors breathing down my neck. There is only one solution. Another gentleman who owns a plantation about ten miles from here once expressed an interest to Father in Bellewood. I think I’ll pay him a visit soon.”
He leaned into Heather and kissed her softly. “For now, though, let’s not talk of distressing things. Tell me how your day went. Any new students in your class?”
“One more came today. Hopefully, each day more will show up. Teaching your slaves to read and write is the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done, David. And after they leave each evening, I get to spend time with you, and learn new things myself. I’m so happy here.” She reached up and tugged his face down to graze his lips.
Their kiss soon became more heated, and David ran his hand down over her bosom. “How I wish I could stroke your breasts without this fabric in between our flesh,” he said raggedly.
In response, Heather stood up and pulled him along with her. “If I’m to get undressed, I want to do so in the privacy of my bedroom. Will you join me?”
Laughing, David picked her up and strode purposefully from the living room. “I thought you’d never ask.”
New York City, Mid-May 1856
Jasmine crept with caution down the staircase of her family’s townhouse. She was bored and restless, about to scream in frustration. While her foot and ankle were still wrapped in plaster, she had finally figured out a way to discard the awkward and noisy crutches that had slowed her down, and which heralded her arrival. She and Heather had always prided themselves in their ability to sneak up on people and overhear private conversations, and she had regretted losing that edge. The other thing they always had going for them was their duplicity, which they used when they wanted to play with someone. Jasmine was adept at pretending to be Heather, and vice versa. But, she recollected, that same duplicity was responsible for her breaking her ankle, and was the very reason why she remained bored, restless, and angry at having to sit out the season, which had begun with so much promise. She thought for a moment about Philippe the cobbler’s ardent kisses and sighed.
Her mother and the maid, Sally, were in the parlor right now. Jasmine noticed a lot of secret conversations between the two of them in the past couple of days, and she was desperate to find out exactly what was going on. She sat down on the steps, out of view of the parlor, but still able to hear the low conversation.
“I regret not being able to make the trip to Niagara with you and baby Titus, Sally, but without Colleen here, there’s no way I can leave Jasmine alone at this time. However, I am sure George Downing can see to your safe arrival at your destination. I’ll go talk to him about it this afternoon.”
“Yes, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, I agree it’s time for us to be moving on. Miss Jasmine is better now. Besides, I won’t breathe an easy breath ‘til we gets to Canada.”
Jasmine tilted her head to better hear the wisps of conversation emanating from the parlor. What were they talking about? Was Sally a runaway slave? And her mother knew about it and was arranging her passage to Canada? How interesting.
“We will never forget you, Ma’am, for findin’ us in that alley and Savin’ us on our first day here. Lord knows we’d be back in Georgia if the bounty hunters had caught us first, instead of you, Mr. Fitzpatrick, and Miss Heather. If my man is waiting for us in Oshawa, our first girl will be named Heather Charlotte after my two angels.”
Heather is somehow involved with this, too? More and more intriguing, Jasmine mused.
“We would be honored, I’m sure. Then, there will be two girls named Heather Whitman, since Heather will marry David as soon as is permissible.”
What? So Sally’s husband’s last name is the same as David’s? Did that mean he and Sally were David’s slaves? Come to think of it, David had been looking for a runaway when he first came here — right before Sally was hired to look after her. This was all too coincidental. She really needed to think this through. Jasmine’s forehead furrowed as she struggled to hear the rest of the conversation.
Charlotte Fitzpatrick laughed and her voice rose a little. “What were the odds that the slave we helped rescue was the exact same one the lieutenant was looking for during his time here in New York? And that I should ask you to occupy a position for us upstairs in the house, while he was calling on Heather downstairs? Well, it’s all sorted itself out for the best. You’re on your way to your future, and so is Heather.”