The Abolitionist’s Secret (18 page)

Jasmine drew in a deep breath. Now, at last, she finally had the ammunition she needed to break things off between Heather and the awful David once and for all. She could not let Heather get married before her! She would get her sister back from David’s clutches, and they’d go through next season together, as they were always meant to do, side by side. Jasmine rose to her feet and quietly retraced her steps to her room. She took paper and a fountain pen from her desk and began to write a letter to the lieutenant, revealing in great detail the reason he was unable to locate his missing slave, and of Heather’s involvement in the cover-up.

Savannah, Georgia, Late-May 1856

The midday sun beat down on the backs of the Negroes laboring in the field. David worked alongside them, doing what he could to help tend to the acres of tobacco. He needed to do everything possible to make his crops plentiful this season, since, if he couldn’t sell the plantation before the crops were harvested, the money from the sale of a healthy tobacco and cotton harvest would keep the plantation afloat for several more months while he figured out what in God’s name to do with the pile of debt his father left behind.

He wiped the sweat from his brow as he took a break and walked in the door of the overseer’s cottage. He already considered himself married, in his mind, to Heather, and took great satisfaction in the idea of coming in from the field every afternoon to share lunch with her. Heather ran to him and wrapped an arm around his damp body, offering him a refreshing, cool glass of sweetened ice tea. He held the glass to his brow and let its chill remove some of the residual heat from him. He kissed Heather with great gusto, smiled at Colleen, and sat at the table, already stacked high with food.

Heather took her place at the table across from him. “I’m so glad you have begun to have lunch with me every day. It gives me something to look forward to.” She blushed and lowered her eyes. “I mean, other than our evenings together.”

David brought her hand to his lips. “How pretty you are, still blushing over our nightly escapades, my soon-to-be wife.”

He released her hand and picked up his sandwich. “I may be late for our rendezvous tomorrow night, however. I am heading out in the morning to see the gentleman who expressed an interest in buying this land. Simon Beaufort is still stonewalling me, and, while I’d like for him to buy it, I need some leverage. If I can get William Douglas interested in buying the property, old Simon Beaufort will have to purchase it, despite what his daughter and my mother want. Simon and William have been at war with each other for years, and Simon would not relish having William as a neighbor.”

“Is Mr. Douglas’s home far from here?”

“It’s ten miles or so. I’ve already confirmed with him that I’ll be coming, and I’ll go by horseback instead of taking a carriage, which will be faster. However, depending on how the course of our conversation goes, it could be very late before I get back. I may even be forced to spend the night there.”

Heather raised her glass and clinked it with David’s. “Take all the time you need, darling. Let’s hope for a successful outcome. If you think Mr. Douglas’s interest is what you need to sway Mr. Beaufort, I’m all for it. However, with Blanche seeming to do her best to thwart our attempts to leave, if you can sell to Mr. Beaufort’s enemy and make them neighbors, it would be most gratifying. I can admit to being a bit petty when it comes to this situation.”

Heather and David giggled at the thought of Simon Beaufort’s reaction to his unwelcome neighbor. Then, they drifted into talk of their new life in St. Louis, and what was to come.

As David was preparing to depart for his afternoon in the fields, Heather wrapped her arms around him.

“If there’s any chance of you not being able to come by tomorrow night, you’d better be prepared for an extended visit this evening,” she purred into his ear and ran her hand down his still-damp shirt.

David’s manhood sprang to life at her touch, and he groaned. “Maybe the men don’t need me in the fields this afternoon,” he growled at her as his entire body clenched at her touch.

“You know they are counting on your presence, David, so you mustn’t deny them. But perhaps we could allow ourselves just a taste of what’s to come this evening before you go.” To demonstrate what she meant, Heather began to stroke his hard shaft. “Come with me.” She led the way to her bedroom, and David followed her, entranced by her capacity to understand his feelings. His mouth salivated with delight as he began to unbutton his trousers.

• • •

The following evening, Heather and Colleen were busy setting up the writing boards and books at the small dining room table. Every inch of the table was covered.

“I swear, lass, every night you have more fresh faces than the night before. Pretty soon, we’re going to have to move the school into a bigger place. I’m so proud of what you’ve done here.”

Heather smiled as she smoothed out her blue day dress. “It’s most gratifying, isn’t it, to see how many of David’s slaves want to learn? I get such a good feeling when one of them masters their name, or reads for the first time ever. Just the looks on their faces is reward enough for me.”

“You’re a born teacher, that’s for certain, my wee lass.” Colleen reached out, brushing a stray hair into place as she kissed Heather’s forehead. “You’re doing a good thing here, Miss Heather. Did you ever think that life would take you here?”

“I’m glad you’re with me, Colleen. You have helped give me the courage I need to stay and fight for my man. Thank you, and I so appreciate you staying here. I know this can’t be much fun for you.”

Colleen patted her hand. “Nonsense, Miss Heather. This is my big adventure, too, right up there with coming to America from Ireland when I was but a wee thing myself.”

Heather surveyed the table. “Well, it looks like we’re ready for our evening’s class. Do you remember what needs to be done if we get interrupted?”

“Yes, Miss. I will lead them to the back of this house, check to make certain the coast is clear, and then hoist them one at a time out the window.”

“And if the coast isn’t clear?”

“I take them to the root cellar and shut the door on them.”

“Very good. Ah, here’s the first of tonight’s students,” Heather replied as she reacted to the soft knock at the door.

Soon everyone was in place. The candles blazed in the room and Negroes took up every corner with a thirst for the knowledge Heather was imparting. She sorted them into groups depending on at what stage they were in their learning, and strode from group to group, checking on their progress or teaching a new lesson.

They were about finished for the evening when a heavy knock came on the door. A man yelled from the other side “Open up now, in the name of the law!”

Without a word, Heather glanced at Colleen and nodded. The frightened slaves looked at each other. Colleen stood and motioned for them to follow her. Quiet as mice, they all ran from the room. As soon as the room was cleared of people, Heather went to the door.

Her heart sank as she gazed at the constable from town, and Susan Whitman.

“Mrs. Whitman, how nice to see you again. And Constable Durkin. How can I help you?” Heather blocked the entrance as best she could with her body. They muscled past her and stood in the center of the room, which was still ablaze with light, and littered with books and supplies.

Heather watched as Susan’s nostrils flared with indignation. “What did I tell you? This woman,” she pointed to Heather with an envelope she held in her hand, “is teaching my slaves to read. And, if that weren’t enough, I have the proof right here she is helping them escape to freedom.” She held the envelope high over her head.

“What have you to say, Miss Fitzpatrick?” The constable stared at her. “Mrs. Whitman has filed a charge against you, and it’s one we do not take lightly.”

“I have done nothing wrong.” Heather’s stomach was quaking in fear, but she tried to not let Susan Whitman see how frightened she was. She wanted to keep the attention focused on her and this room until she was certain her students had escaped without capture, and hoped her words of denial could buy them a few more seconds.

“Oh no? Nothing wrong? Your own beloved sister doesn’t think so, and she has provided the evidence I needed to send you off.”

“What? Whatever are you talking about?”

“This letter proves that you helped my slave, Sally Whitman and her child, Titus, escape the clutches of the bounty hunters that my husband paid for.”

Heather’s heart quivered in time with her stomach. She took a deep breath as she tried to keep her voice and her hands from shaking and betraying outward signs of her fear.

“May I see the letter?”

“So you can throw it into the fire? I think not.”

“I want to see what was written. And there is no fire in the room, other than the candles.”

The constable looked from one woman to the other, with an air of uncertainty. “I suppose we can let her take a look at the evidence, Mrs. Whitman.”

With a wary expression, Susan looked at the two of them. Then, she handed over the document she had been waving around.

Heather looked at the envelope and was startled to recognize the handwriting of her twin. “This letter is addressed to David, not to you, Mrs. Whitman. Why are you reading my fiancé’s mail?”

“When my son is away from home, I read all correspondence that is addressed to him. After all, we do have a plantation to run, and you never know what might need immediate attention while he’s gallivanting around the countryside. So, when this letter arrived yesterday, of course I opened it up.”

Heather scanned the note Jasmine had penned to David. It was indeed damning evidence of her assistance to Sally in New York. How had Jasmine ever found out? In her mind, she kicked her sister for her impulsive behavior. Jasmine was, as usual, thinking only of herself and what she wanted, without regard to Heather’s feelings. Or her safety, as it turned out. She tore her gaze from the letter as Susan Whitman’s words sank in.

“David was not away from the plantation yesterday, Mrs. Whitman.” Heather’s voice was suddenly strong, and like ice. “Why would you hide his mail from him, except to prove to me you are truly the bitch I thought you were?”

Susan’s eyes widened at the insult. She grabbed the letter from Heather’s grasp and shoved it in the constable’s face.

“You have your evidence, sir. Remove her from my land, will you?”

The constable put the letter in his breast pocket and glanced at Heather. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I have to take you to town.” He put a hand on her arm.

Heather gasped. She knew Susan Whitman was out to get her, but to be physically removed by the constable? Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and her stomach flipped over. There was no saving her now. Colleen walked into the room, their signal that all the slaves had escaped from the house. Heather tried to calm her mounting terror.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the jail, Miss. You have been charged with abolitionist activities, and that is punishable by imprisonment or death, depending on what a jury decides.”

“Imprisonment? Or death?” Colleen gasped as Heather turned to Susan while the constable tied Heather’s hands together. Susan had a wide grin on her face.

“I wish I could have a picture of this. You have been a thorn in my side ever since you showed up here, Miss High and Mighty. You may have clouded my son’s judgment by spreading your legs for him, but you can’t fool me. I knew you were trouble the day I met you and figured out you merely wanted my son for his money. Now, you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

Heather registered Susan’s cackle as she was being led away. It was a sound she would never forget. Or forgive.

Colleen bustled into the small stone jailhouse the next morning. Heather sat behind the bars, her quiet tears falling unabated. Colleen could not join her in the cell, but could only stand outside the bars. She called out to her charge when she spied Heather’s hunched-over form on the cold stone bench.

“Here, now, Miss Heather, my wee lass. Come over here and let Colleen take a look at you.”

Heather stood up, gulping for air as she did so, and moved alongside Colleen, who reached through the bars and smoothed Heather’s hair. She brushed the tears from Heather’s face and clucked comforting sounds to her. After several minutes, Heather took a deep breath and looked into Colleen’s green eyes.

Colleen whispered, “I’ve just come from the telegraph office. I posted a telegram to your father. I’m sure he will be here in a day or so. The lieutenant should be back this morning, and he will get you out of this wretched place. Jericho took it upon himself to ride out to Mr. Douglas’ farm and let David know what his horrible mother had done.”

Heather was stunned. “Jericho did that? All by himself? Why would he take such a risk?” She whispered back, since she knew the dangers the young slave boy faced riding out at night on his own.

“Thanks to your teaching, he made himself a note from his owner, stating that he was on official business from Bellewood.” Colleen spoke in a low voice. “I, uh, may have helped him a wee bit with his spelling. I guess that makes me an abolitionist now, too.” Colleen pulled her shoulders back in pride.

“Don’t even jest about something like that,” Heather hissed a warning. “People in Georgia take themselves quite seriously.”

Colleen shoved a package through the bars. “Here, miss, I’ve brought you some soap to wash with, a hairbrush and a change of your underthings. Oh, and I packed some food for you, although the officer who checked me in took most of the lemon cake I had for you. I know it’s your favorite.”

“That’s all right, Colleen, thank you.” She took the package and held it to her body. “The officer who was here with me last night was quite a nice man. I know he feels bad about having me here, but he had his orders. He did what he could to make my stay easier. But Constable Durkin, who just came back in this morning, is not so nice.”

She looked around the stifling cell she was in. “Although nothing could really help make this a comfortable place, despite anyone’s best efforts. In my wildest imagination, I never dreamed I’d end up here.”