Virginia Henley (32 page)

When they were out of earshot, Jacquine summoned Ebony. “Have one of the gardeners dig a grave. Under the magnolias where my husband is buried will do nicely, thank you.”

Ebony knew better than to question her. She was a woman of bizarre caprices. All he had to do was make sure it wasn’t for him. All else was superfluous. Kitty took off her pretty green dress and hung it in the wardrobe. She lay on the bed without even washing.

“You must know Patrick. When did he leave?”

Topaz looked frightened. “The mistress gets mad if I gossip about white folks.”

Kitty closed her eyes, trying to come to a decision. Her money was gone. The logical thing was to stay and await Patrick’s return, but she was filled with a vague anxiety.

Jacquine ordered a horse saddled. When she returned, she had vented a good deal of her frustrated anger by the liberal use of her riding crop.

It was not Topaz, but the butler who brought up a tray to Kitty’s room. The food was delicious and for the first time in weeks it didn’t produce the nausea that had been plaguing her. After she had eaten she felt a good deal better. She bathed from head to toe and brushed the tangles from her hair. The mirror showed it to be a mass of frizzy curls from the humid air, and her skin had a deep, healthy tan. She wished Patrick could see her, for she knew she looked extremely pretty.

Tomorrow, after a good night’s rest, she would have to
face that formidable opponent. She did not doubt for a moment that Jacquine was her opponent in an important game, with Patrick the prize. She knew a great plantation like this would be a temptation to a man with Patrick’s ambition, but she believed that deep down he would abhor slavery and all it stood for.

Ebony lit the candles so his mistress was no longer sitting in the dark, then said, “
Madame
, Mr. Simmons and another gentleman would like a word with you.” She put down her glass and said, “I’ll see them in my office.”

“Miz LeCoq, ma’am, here’s Mr. Logan; I got hold of him as soon as I could.”

“I remember Logan when he did business with my husband. You may leave us. I am capable of handling the affairs of this plantation without male advice.”

“As you wish, ma’am,” he nodded and left.

“Well, Logan, have you seen him?”

“Yes, they’ve got him secured at the compound. I’ll admit he’s a fine specimen.” He said with narrowed eyes, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Wrong with him? Are you mad?”

“My guess is he’s a runner,” he suggested.

“Wrong! We have no runners here, Logan,” she contradicted. “They were dead men the minute we got them back.”

“He’s powerful big, probably hard to handle,” he suggested.

She smiled slowly. “I never had any trouble. He’s worth three thousand.”

“Could be, but I’m not paying three thousand for him. He’s flawed somehow, or you wouldn’t be selling him.”

“Logan, I can see you drive a hard bargain, so I’ll be honest with you. I’m to be married shortly. For purely personal
reasons I want Colossus off the place before my future husband returns.”

“I see! Top dollar—two thousand, no dickering.”

“Done. The two boys you can have for five hundred apiece. You should be able to turn a profit.”

“There is always a good market for young females. Anything you can let me have in that line?” he asked.

“My house girls are trained to my every command; I couldn’t possibly spare any. It would be much too fatiguing to retrain new girls.”

She was glad to get the business concluded so she could concentrate on what to do about her other problem. It would be so simple to show Patrick Kitty’s grave. So easy to concoct a tale of fever. What could he do once it was a
fait accompli?
How to go about it; that was the problem. There was no one on the plantation who would commit the murder for her. If only the wench wasn’t so young and pretty. She stopped. Logan was looking for light-skinned wenches! She sat down at the desk and thought out each step of her plan. The girl certainly was dark enough, exotic as some of the “fancies” black and white blood often produced. Who would deny her, except the girl herself? She could make out papers that none would question. She reached for a slave bill of sale and filled in the name. She carefully sanded the paper and placed it in her bosom for safekeeping.

“Topaz, follow me,” she said. They went to the back of the house to a storeroom. Here were kept linens and a supply of brightly colored cotton garments the slaves wore. Jacquine selected a brilliant orange cotton shift with a matching tignon. “Listen carefully to what I want you to do. First you must make absolutely certain that the girl upstairs is asleep. Then I want you to remove every article she brought here with her and leave this orange shift in their place. If you overlook one article of clothing I will lash you smartly.”

Jacquine arose early. When Logan came she greeted him almost warmly. “Ah—Logan, I’ve been thinking over what we were discussing last night, and I have decided to let you have one of my female slaves.”

“Well, that depends on what you’re asking for her. I’m a little low now that I’ve paid you the three thousand.”

“That’s the best part. If you can guarantee me that she won’t be sold to anyone in Charleston or thereabouts, I’ll throw her in for nothing.”

“What’s wrong with her? What’s the catch?” he asked bluntly.

“Such a suspicious man! I want her away from here. Ship her to the islands and keep whatever you can get for her. She’s even got a sucker in her, Logan, a white man’s sucker, so I don’t think you’ll refuse my generous offer, will you?” At this moment Kitty came running down the stairs. Her eyes were blazing in anger. She was wearing the shapeless orange smock and brandishing the scarf in her hand.

“What the hell is going on here? Where are my clothes and by whose authority were they removed from my room?” she demanded breathlessly.

Jacquine ignored her and turned to Logan. “Well, what do you think of her?”

“I think you’re one smart woman to sell her before your man returns,” he said and laughed.

“Sell? What are you talking about? What’s going on here?” cried Kitty.

Still ignoring her, Jacquine took out the crackling document: “Here is her paper, transferring ownership to you. Her name is Kitty and she is an octoroon.”

“Octoroon? That’s a damned lie! My skin is dark because I’m a Gypsy. You must be mad!” Kitty flew at Jacquine’s face, but she eluded the attack and sent Kitty a stinging blow to the side of her head.

“Control her, Logan; she’s your property now.”

Logan took the bullwhip from his belt and shook it threateningly under Kitty’s nose. He took her arm and shoved her violently toward the door. “Outside, girl.” Logan pushed Kitty across the veranda toward his wagon. He took out a set of leg irons and clasped them about her bare ankles.

Kitty turned burning-mad eyes on Jacquine and screamed, “Hecate! Nebo! I call up the powers of darkness. I damn you everlastingly. I curse your immortal soul!”

Two young black boys were being loaded into the wagon when Kitty saw him. The gigantic black man came forward in chains. He made no protest, but the look of pure contempt he bent upon the assemblage was enough to put fear into all of them. Kitty’s eyes were starting out of her head. Never before had she beheld anyone so ugly. He was the size of a monster. When they brought him forward and shackled him to Kitty, she went down into the vortex of oblivion.

The first thing she became aware of was the relentless sun beating down upon her face. She tried to open her eyes but was instantly blinded by a brilliant flash of yellow, which turned to orange and then fire red behind her closed eyelids. She was on the tailgate of a moving wagon, being pulled by one heavy-set mule. The enormous black man walked behind the wagon, his long, even strides keeping pace. His wrists were shackled with irons to the wagon, so he had no choice. Colossus opened his mouth to say something to Kitty, but she shrank away from him in horror.

“Tie that tignon round your head, or you’re gonna get sunstroke for sure.” Logan stopped the wagon. “So, you’re awake at last, eh, Sleeping Beauty? You can walk the rest of the way. I’ll take these leg irons off and fasten you by your wrist to Colossus here.”

Terror made her heart beat so loudly inside her eardrums, she was momentarily deafened. “No, please!” she begged, but Logan only laughed suggestively as he tied such a small female to such a large male. They were on a dusty back road. Colossus was observing her dainty white feet as she struggled to keep up. As the miles passed slowly, a terrific thirst grew within her that was like torture. About noon, when the sun was at its fiercest, Logan stopped the wagon outside a house that was sort of a general store. He paid for food to be brought out to his slaves. The young boys laughed and jumped about, enjoying themselves immensely. Colossus also looked pleased at the sight of food, but when Kitty was handed a dish of boiled greens floating in a greasy mass of
fat-back pork, nausea arose in her throat. She tried to hand it back to the serving woman, but Logan said threateningly, “Eat it. You have a long way to walk before dark.”

“I’m very thirsty,” she said.

“You can have a cup of water after you’ve eaten, not before.” The smell of grease rose up in a miasma, but she tried to ignore it and took a morsel of the fatty pork in her fingers and put it into her mouth. The moment she swallowed it, her stomach revolted and she vomited into the dirt. Her retching continued until she had the dry heaves. Colossus took her tin plate away and handed her his cup of water. She took only one mouthful when Logan knocked it from her hand.

“I told you to eat! You need strength for walking. I won’t have you riding on the wagon tiring my mule, you black bitch!”

They had only been traveling for half an hour when Kitty was overcome with exhaustion and knew she could walk no farther. Colossus picked her up without a word, and matching his pace to the wagon’s, supported her against his massive chest. Some of her fear of him began gradually to seep away as the fierce sun burned down upon them. As soon as she felt able she made him put her down again so she could walk by herself.

The giggling and playful wrestling going on up front confirmed for Kitty what she had suspected of Logan from the first. She knew she had nothing to fear from him sexually, but Colossus was another matter. Virility oozed from every pore. It was so potent and tangible you could almost see, hear, touch, smell and taste it. The wagon drew up beside a pecan grove. Logan unlocked Kitty’s wrist shackles. He put an iron on her ankle and chained the other end to Colossus’ ankle.

“We’re gonna have a little siesta,” Logan said and grinned. “You can take her behind the trees. I know you
must be in need by now, boy.” He was well aware that Colossus wouldn’t be able to escape with the exhausted female shackled to him.

Kitty was rooted to the spot with fear, but Colossus took her by the hand and pulled her into the pecan grove. She trembled from head to foot, her thirst and exhaustion almost forgotten. Colossus stretched out on the ground. Kitty stood terrified before him. “Lie down. I won’t touch you,” he said simply.

“I don’t believe you!” cried Kitty.

“You too small for me; I’d kill you.” He smiled to himself. “’Sides, I don’t fancy you.”

Her eyes opened wide in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got funny eyes and your nose is all thin and pointy. You’re a white woman.” She was dizzy with relief. She fell down beside him and relaxed. She slept almost immediately. She awoke with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We have to go now.”

It was dark before they finally reached Charleston. They went down the back streets to the warehouses by the docks. Colossus and Kitty were locked in a cell-like room, and Logan gave the woman with the keys a few coins for their supper. He departed with the two black boys, saying he would return for the male and the female in the morning. As the last of her physical resources drained away, Kitty fell into a stupor from dehydration. After an hour had elapsed with no sign of the meal they had been promised. Colossus hammered on the door and shouted, “This wench will die if she don’t get food and water.”

Kitty was floating in a detached state of mind. The candle flickered across Colossus’ face and she wondered how she had ever thought him ugly. He had the noble face of a warrior. His skin was a beautiful shade of ebony and the full lips were attractively molded over strong white teeth. His rippled
body was beautiful. “Magnificent,” she murmured and slipped into unconsciousness. Frantically he felt for her heartbeat and listened for her breathing. It was so shallow, for a moment he thought she had slipped away. He gathered her against him and willed the strength of his body into hers. The gigantic slave could not have explained his own reasons for his concern for the small girl at his side. Perhaps he saw in her an innocence he had never had, perhaps he pitied her vulnerability, but he was determined she would not die.

When the door was unlocked for Logan, he found an avenging angel standing between himself and the female. “This wench almost died. We got no food or water; that woman cheated you.”