The Price of Freedom (11 page)

As soon as Richard was better,
Elizabeth began to plan his party. Once they had set the date she and the girls
spent a whole day writing letters of invitation, which they got Jethro to
deliver on horseback. In addition to their closest friends, they had invited
the governor, members of the House of Assembly and other high officials in the
island.

No expense was to be spared on the
party to introduce Richard to the Barbadian settlers; or at least those that
mattered. The menu they selected boasted, along with local fare, imported foods
such as pickled oysters, caviar, olives and anchovies as well as a variety of
desserts.

Once the invitations had gone out
Elizabeth called together all the house slaves and announced that she was
having a party to introduce her nephew to their friends and acquaintances in
two weeks and were expecting about 100 people.

“We will use the sitting room for
the party so the furniture will have to be removed. Jethro your job will be to
act as butler and direct the guests to the sitting room.  Deborah, Cassie
and Hattie you will serve. We will have light food rather than a big meal. I
will borrow one or two of the skilled workers to serve the drinks.”

“Sally you will need to wash all
the glasses and small plates we have before the party.  Get the girls to
help you.  I have some material that I bought in Town recently and Sarah
you are to make an outfit for Jethro and dresses for the girls to serve in so
that I won’t be disgraced by their appearance. I will draw a sketch for you to
follow. OK, you can get back to work now.”

“This is so exciting, mother!”
exclaimed Mary. “We’ve not had a party in ages.”

“You can wear your new dresses
that we bought in Town last month so that you look your best when the eligible
young men come. There are so few of them here in Barbados, we might be forced
to send you to England to wed.”

They tittered excitedly.

“I’m sure our friends will faint
dead away when they see how handsome cousin Richard is,” Rachel boasted.

“I’m just glad that he’s put back
on a bit of weight,” admitted Elizabeth. “He had looked so drawn after his
illness.  I felt simply terrible!”

“He’s fine now mother.”

Richard had felt well enough to
venture out with Thomas by the Wednesday and Elizabeth was glad that he no
longer had any cause to interact with Deborah.  She made sure that Hattie
and Cassie served dinner and she knew that Hattie went to his room some
nights.  There was little that happened in the house that she did not know. 

She had no problem with him
bedding Hattie; after all that’s what men did.  Hattie was harmless.
Deborah, on the other hand, was not and she intended to make sure that Richard
didn’t lose his head over her, like William did. The less he saw of her the
better.

The mistress gave Sarah a sketch
of a dress and several yards of coarse blue
linen
with a smaller amount of blue and white striped material to make the dresses
and aprons for the girls. When she had finished making them, Deborah tried on
hers, took one look at the bold neckline which would no doubt draw the
attention of the male attendees of the party and declared that she would not
wear it.

"Child, you don't have any
choice; the mistress told me how to make the dresses."

"I don't want all of those
men eyeing me and thinking that I am available. I’m not wearing it!"

“So what you
going to wear then?"

Deborah thought for a moment and
then remembered the beautiful green satin dress that her mother had given her
on her sixteenth birthday.

"I'll wear the dress that you
gave me when I turned sixteen. I haven't had anywhere to wear it before."

"That would look real nice
but the mistress will be vexed if you don’t wear the dress that I made.
Girl, you looking to upset the mistress?
What I
goin
' tell her when she sees that you not dressed like
Cassie and Hattie? I would have to ask the master if you could wear it since he
is the one that gave me the material to make the dress for you. He
don’t
really get involved in things to do with the house
though so I don’t know what he will say.”

"Yes, talk to the master
because I am not wearing that dress.”

Although Sarah planned to get the
Master’s permission, she had a bad feeling about it since she knew that the
mistress had not been happy with Deborah since she had found her reading to the
nephew and this would only make things worse. She wished that Deborah was not so
stubborn; it would only lead to trouble.

Deborah opened the trunk where she
had carefully packed the dress nearly two years ago. Although she had put some
sachets of dried flowers in its folds, it was slightly musty so she shook it
out and took it outside to drape it over a nearby bush to air. She would get
her mother to iron it when she was doing the other two.

It was truly beautiful and showed
her mother's fine talent with a needle. More important the neckline was
respectable and would not attract lustful eyes. Her mother's talent was truly
wasted as a slave, doing the laundry, ironing and sewing for the family when
she could be making a living as a seamstress if she was free.

Deborah sighed as heaviness
settled over her like a mantle. Would they ever be free? She knew that wearing
the dress would rouse the mistress' anger but she was prepared to face the
consequences to experience the freedom to choose what she wanted to do just
once. At least her dress would make her feel free, if only for one night.

Deborah plaited her hair and
coiled it around her head in a coronet. The style emphasized her slender neck
and sculptured cheekbones and made her look more exotic than usual.

Picking up the freshly pressed
dress she stepped into it and Sarah came to help her button it up. As she
turned around, tears sprang unexpectedly to Sarah's eyes.

"You look like a beautiful
free woman tonight. None of those women will be able to hold a candle to you
but I hope you ready to deal with the mistress. Although the master said that
he didn’t see why it should matter what dress you wear, when the mistress she
see you she
ain
' going to be too happy."

"Tonight, I don't care. I
feel like a free woman." The feeling was addictive and she wanted more
already.

She and Sarah headed to the
kitchen which was already a hive of activity. Their entrance brought a sudden
hush as the house slaves noticed Deborah.

"Girl, you look like the
mistress of the house," said Cassie in awe.

"How come you
ain
' dress like us?" Hattie asked. The dress fitted
her well and the daringly low neckline emphasized her ample bosom.

"I have no desire to make
anyone think I'm offering anything other than the food." Deborah retorted.

"That dress look real nice,
Deborah. Where you get that from?" Sally asked her.

"My mother made it for my
sixteenth birthday."

"Girl, you
goin
' turn some heads tonight. Hattie, the nephew may call
for Deborah tonight instead of you," Cassie teased. Hattie glared at her
and said nothing. Deborah fervently
hoped
not.

She couldn't help the shiver that
went down her back at the thought. For a moment she wondered if she had made a
mistake by dressing as she had. She hadn't wanted to bring attention to herself
with the revealing dress but was she doing it anyway by setting herself apart?

Jethro appeared in the doorway.
"The mistress said that you can start serving the food. A good set of
people here already."

That started a flurry of activity
as the cook began to hand out trays of food for the girls to take out. Deborah
hung back as long as she could but eventually took her tray from the cook and
headed for the dining room.

Richard tried to remember the
people he had been introduced to as he stood with the family to greet their
guests. The
Bayleys
, the
Newtons
,
the
Watermans
, the
Littletons
,
the Pierces, the Sharps. His head was swirling with all the names and he knew
that he would remember few.

They were dressed as finely as the
gentry in England and in fact many of them were from among that class who had
relocated to Barbados to capitalize on the wealth to be had on the island. He
knew that they must be deathly hot in the imported fashions which were terribly
unsuited to the climate. He certainly felt warm in his jacket and waistcoat
over a fine linen shirt and breeches. The cool breeze blowing through the doors
that opened onto the balcony was a welcome relief.

"Christopher, it has been a
long time.” His uncle greeted a man who was several years older than himself.
He was richly attired and his waistcoat strained to contain the paunch which
betrayed his love for food.

"I haven't been out much
since my wife passed away."

"Yes, of course. This is
Elizabeth’s nephew Richard Fairfax from Carolina. Richard this is Christopher
Coverley
, one of the richest men in Barbados."
Coverley
laughed but Richard noticed that he didn't deny
it.

"Good to meet you. What
brings you to Barbados?" he asked extending his hand.

"Business.”

“What business are you in?”

“My family is in shipping but I'm
looking to get into rice production when I go back."

"Rice.
Sounds good.
We need to talk later and see how we can
do business together."

"I look forward to
that," said Richard shaking his hand again.

"I think we can stop the
formal greetings now and mingle with our guests. Anyone who comes later can
meet Richard as we circulate." Thomas said.

He was anxious to talk to some of
the other planters about Jamaica and the growing sugar industry there which
could be a threat to theirs.  Maybe he should invest in Jamaica.

"Yes,” agreed Elizabeth. “I
think most of our guests are here anyway and I'm getting weary of
stand..." She bit off her words abruptly as a vision of beauty proffering
a tray came into sight. It was Deborah in a beautiful satin gown that looked as
well made as some that were worn by the guests. The family turned to see what
had caught her attention.

Richard's breath caught at the
sight of Deborah's striking profile as she smiled politely at a group of
planters. They seemed to him to be taking their time selecting whatever she was
offering and the way they were devouring her with their eyes, he could just
imagine what they wished she was offering.

He had never seen her in anything
other than the plainest garb which she seemed to wear like armor, so the sight
of her in satin, as well dressed as any of the guests, hit him squarely in the
chest. A lot lower the truth
be
told. He was surprised
at the possessiveness he felt on seeing the men's reaction to her. It was not
as if she was his but he certainly wanted her to be.