Rebel Page 6

  “The fancy word for pirate.”

  “Yes.”

  “And they had a love match?”

  “Yes. She had two children enslaved in Charleston, and after Dominic stole them away, they moved to the island.”

  “That’s quite a tale.”

  “All true. They loved each other fiercely.”

  His tone held so much conviction, she wondered what love consisted of. How did it come about? How did it make a person feel? She had no answers.

  “Has your family always lived in New York?”

  “Only since my mother’s parents came north from Virginia. Both were enslaved. My father and his parents were slaves in South Carolina. He was an infant when they escaped to New York.”

  “Escaping had to be harrowing.”

  “For my grandmother it truly was because she was fairly young and ran alone.”

  “Grandparents still alive?”

  “My grandmother Rose is, but my grandfather passed on when I was twelve. She never remarried. She said all the men who came around wanted to take charge of her dressmaking shop and her money.”

  “And her granddaughter has the same aversion to that type of control?”

  She looked him in the eyes and said firmly, “Yes.”

  He gave her a small smile. “Stick to your guns, cheri. We pirates don’t do well under someone’s thumb, either.”

  Entering the center of the city, he guided the carriage through the congested streets to the St. Louis Hotel. “This isn’t a place that welcomes us through the front door, so let me park and I’ll escort you to the back entrance.”

  Once the horses were tied to the post, he guided her down the trash-strewn alley and to the door designated for deliveries and employees. To her delight, Eb and a few other men and women were on the dock eating lunch. He looked both surprised and confused as she approached. “Miss Lacy? What are you doing here?”

  He gave Drake a long searching look that held a hint of suspicion, so she made the introductions, then explained, “I’m staying with Mr. LeVeq’s mother temporarily, and he was kind enough to drive me here.”

  “I see.” He eyed Drake again, who met his scrutiny levelly.

  “Brigands have taken over our classroom, Mr. Slayton, so I have to find a new location.”

  “No,” he replied, voice sharp with disappointment. “That’s terrible news.”

  “Yes, it is. And since I don’t know where most of the other students live, I’m hoping you can help me spread the word that there will be no more classes until further notice.”

  He shook his head sadly. “Of course. How long do you think it’ll be before we can start up again?”

  “I’m not sure.” And she wished she had a better answer.

  “Soon as you are, will you let me know? I’m anxious to continue learning. The others are, too.”

  “I know you are.”

  Drake spoke for the first time. “There might be openings at some of the few Bureau schools still operating.”

  Eb nodded. “Before I found Miss Lacy, nobody else was taking new students, but I’ll start looking again.”

  “Maybe you’ll have better luck this time,” Val said, hope in her voice. “Not that I want to lose you to another teacher.” And she didn’t, but he needed to continue his education.

  “Who else do you plan to see?” Eb asked.

  “Dina Watson, Abner Little, and Remus Blue. They were the only people who gave me information on how to get word to them or their families if I needed to.”

  “I know where some of the others live and work. I’ll let them know on my way home.”

  A man wearing a white chef’s coat leaned around the open door and called, “Eb! Time to get back to work.”

  “Sure thing.” He started to the door. “Good seeing you, Miss Lacy. Take care of her, Mr. LeVeq. She’s real special.”

  “I will.”

  Val forced herself not to meet Drake’s eyes to avoid what she might see, and called to the departing Eb, “I can still help your brother, if he needs it.”

  “He does.” And he disappeared inside.

  On the walk back to the busy street, Drake asked, “What kind of help is his brother after?”

  “He’s trying to find his wife. He wants to put a plea in the newspapers, but he can’t read or write.”

  “Nice of you to offer your assistance.”

  “Were I in his position, I’d want to find my family, too.”

  “So would I.”

  She looked up at him as they turned a corner. “We’re lucky having been born free, at least in that regard.”

  He nodded his agreement.

  She continued, “My grandmother had a younger brother and two older sisters. She hasn’t seen or heard from any of them since she escaped. She continues to hope she will before she passes on.”

  “I hope the same for her.”

  The sincerity in his tone matched the look in his steady gaze and something inside her shifted, making her want to further get to know the depth of the man he was inside. “I do as well.”

  He said quietly, “The cigar shop is just a few doors down.”

  The bell over the door tinkled as they entered, and the thick scent of tobacco blanketed the air. A short older man with milk-white skin and receding jet-black hair came out to greet them from behind a curtained-off area she assumed led to the back of the place. His face brightened at the sight of Drake. “Drake LeVeq, how are you?” he asked in a heavy French-accented voice.

  “I’m well, Eugene. This is Miss Lacy. Val, this is Eugene Bascom, the owner.”

  He inclined his head chivalrously. “Mademoiselle Lacy. A pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you as well.”

  “Drake, are you here for your cigars?”

  “Yes, and Miss Lacy would like to speak with one of your employees.”

  He paused. “Who?” he asked Val.

  “Dina Watson. She’s one of my students.”

  “You’re the lady teaching her to read and write?”

  “I am. She’s doing very well in the classroom.”

  His manner cooled. “I see.”

  Drake apparently noticed the change in him as well. “Is there a problem, Eugene?”

  “No. Why do you wish to speak to her?” the owner asked Val.

  “I want to give her a message about school.”

  “Give it to me and I will pass it along to her.”

  “I’d like to pass it along myself, if that’s possible.” She wanted to make sure Dina received the news.

  His jaw hardened, as did his eyes.

  Just then a younger man stepped into view. He was tall but his resemblance to Eugene made Val think he might be his son.

  “Mr. LeVeq. Your cigars are ready.”

  “Thank you, Quentin. This is Miss Lacy. She’d like to speak with Dina.”

  “Of course. Just a moment.”

  Eugene glared but Quentin stepped back through the curtain. Dina was with him when he returned.

  Her dark eyes widened. “Miss Lacy? How are you?”

  “I’m well.”

  She eyed Drake for a long moment then said to Val, “Quent said you wanted to speak to me?”

  Val noted the softness in Quentin’s gaze as he watched Dina, and the displeasure on the face of Eugene. Having no idea what it meant, she set it aside and told Dina about the school.

  “Oh no. I’ve been looking forward to learning to read better.”

  “I know and I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands.”

  Her disappointment was plain.

  Quentin said, “I’ll help you.”

  Eugene snapped, “You don’t have time.”

  “I’ll find the time,” he replied, eyes still on Dina. “It’s important that she learn to read.”

  His soft voice matched his expression.

  Dina gave him a smile. “That’s very kind of you, Quent, but I don’t want your father upset with you. He believes a
woman like me is only good for sweeping floors, and has no business trying to better herself.”

  Eugene turned beet red.

  Dina turned to Val. “Miss Lacy, thanks for coming by. Please let me know if you start another class.” She added pointedly, “I have floors to sweep.” She disappeared into the back.

  Quentin glared at his father before telling Drake, “I’ll get your cigars.”

  Drake nodded.

  Quentin followed Dina.

  Val, simmering over Dina’s take on the situation, said as calmly as she could, “Mr. Bascom, please forgive me for asking what may sound rude, but do you really believe Dina shouldn’t learn to read?”

  His face hardened. “That’s none of your concern.”

  The response made her want to throw up her hands. She turned to Drake, who said, “I’m sure that isn’t what Eugene believes, Valinda, because if he did, the House of LeVeq and its many associates would have to take their business elsewhere.”

  Bascom’s once-angry eyes widened with alarm.

  Drake continued, “He’ll allow Quentin to assist Dina until she finds another classroom, won’t you, Bascom?”

  Eugene Bascom nodded so forcefully, Val swore his hairline receded another inch.

  Eyes still pinned to the now-quaking shop owner, Drake gave him a cold smile. “Good. I’ll check on Miss Watson’s progress the next time I visit. How’s that sound, Eugene?”

  “That’s fine. Very fine.”

  Quentin returned with the cigars. Drake thanked him, and they departed.

  Outside, she said, “Thank you. What an awful man.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I know some people aren’t happy with the way things have changed since the war, but it’s no longer unlawful for her to learn to read.”

  “Correct. And I applaud you for challenging Bascom the way you did.”

  “It helped to have a pirate with me.”

  “Always at your service, mademoiselle. Where to next?”

  “To see Abner Little at Caldwell’s Butcher Shop and Remus Blue, the sexton at St. Augustine’s Church.”

  Both men were as disappointed with the news as Dina and Eb had been, and on the ride back to Julianna’s home, her own disappointment rose again. It lessened as she reminded herself that she had made a difference in their lives, even if she never found another classroom. She also held on to the hope that the nuns would offer a solution.

  She glanced over at Drake. He’d been the champion she’d needed back at the cigar shop. Alone, she doubted Bascom would’ve been brought to heel. Threatening the man’s profits had been an excellent strategy. There wasn’t a shop owner on earth who viewed losing a group of valued customers as a sound business practice. Having him by her side had made a difference for her and Dina. She’d be forever grateful.

  They found his mother seated at her desk in her study. “Welcome back. Did you locate your students?”

  Val answered, “Yes, we did.”

  “Good. Drake, are you staying for dinner?” It was now late afternoon.

  “No. I’m going home. I’ll see you in a day or two.” To Val, he said, “I enjoyed our time together.”

  “I did as well.”

  “Maybe we can do it again, soon.”

  She didn’t say yes, but didn’t say no, either.

  He said, “I’ll bring my marbles next time.”

  She couldn’t suppress her smile. “Only if you don’t mind parting with them.”

  “I love a challenge.”

  “I sense that.”

  He bowed. “Until we meet again. Goodbye, cheri. Goodbye, Mama.”

  Val watched him leave, and when she turned back, Julianna was viewing her pensively.

  “Ma’am?” Val asked.

  Julianna waved off the question. “Nothing. Have a seat and let’s discuss what we can do about your immediate future.”

  Chapter Six

  After leaving Julianna’s, Drake rode his stallion, Havana, down the dirt road that led to his section of LeVeq land. Each brother owned a portion, but Archer lived at his hotel, and Phillipe and Beau maintained apartments in the Quarter. Raimond and Drake were the only two who’d built homes, even though Drake’s was still under construction.

  As he rode, his mind circled back to Valinda. He’d enjoyed being with her today. She was intelligent, caring, and more than a bit surprising. He certainly hadn’t expected her to confront Bascom the way she had, but he supposed that was the hellion part her father disapproved of so much. That she didn’t believe in love gave him pause. He supposed if she’d never seen it or experienced it, she wouldn’t. Were her views shared by her intended? If so, Drake thought the man a loon, to have known her for so many years and not be in love with her. He was admittedly halfway there himself and he’d known her a mere twenty-four hours.

  Although she was not to be his, he gave himself permission to imagine how it might be if she were, because fantasy hurt no one. They’d shoot marbles, play checkers and chess, and travel to the Orient on one of Rai’s voyages. He’d want to hear her positions on the political machinations of the day, and take her to the racetrack and the opera. He wondered if she knew how to swim or ride, and if she still liked climbing trees? And, yes, there’d be bed games. She wore her hair in a tight bun that showed off the beautiful lines of her small brown face and the tempting expanse of her throat above her high-necked blouse. He imagined brushing his lips against that soft column until she hummed with pleasure. Were she his, he’d build her not just a classroom but a school, and gift it to her for her birthday or Christmas, thereby showing her what it meant to be loved and adored by a man of the House of LeVeq.

  When he came within view of his house, he heard a woman’s screams, followed by keening filled with so much pain he pushed Havana into a full gallop.

  It was his housekeeper, Erma Downs. She was on her knees in the dirt by the porch. Head thrown back, tears running down her face, she was wailing as if her heart was broken. Her daughter-in-law, Allie, was holding her and sobbing bitterly.

  Dismounting, he ran to her side. “Miss Erma!”

  “They killed my boy!” she screamed.

  Ice filled his veins. “Who!”

  “They killed my boy!” she raged. “They killed my boy!”

  His foreman, Solomon Hawk, and some of the freedmen he’d hired to help with the construction of his home looked on gravely.

  Drake asked urgently, “Allie, what happened?”

  “Daniel wouldn’t sign the contract, so Master Atwater shot him.” Liam Atwater was one of the cruelest former slave owners in the area.

  “When?”

  “This morning.”

  Drake was speechless, then enraged. He calmed himself. There’d be time to let his anger flow later. “Come. Let’s get you and Miss Erma in the house. Where’s your son, Bailey?”

  Allie pointed at the wagon Drake hadn’t noticed until then. He turned to see the seven-year-old Bailey sitting still as stone on the seat.

  In a shaking voice, Allie said, “Atwater killed him in front of us.”

  Bailey’s small, stoic face warred with the abject sadness in his tear-filled eyes. Drake fought the emotion clogging his throat. “Bring him in. I’ll get Miss Erma.”

  She went to Bailey. Drake picked up the weeping Erma and carried her inside.

  Later, after he left Erma resting in one of the bedrooms, Allie told him the story.

  “Daniel didn’t think the work contract was fair. It said he was to work six days a week from sunup to sundown, be responsible for the animals and the tools, and not leave the plantation without permission. That was the part Daniel didn’t like the most. He told Master Atwater, we were free, and when the work was done, we had a right to come and go as we pleased. When the other men wouldn’t sign either, it made Master Atwater plenty mad.”

  Drake knew that many former masters were using the contracts to lock the freedmen into a new form of slavery. He’d seen work agreements that outlined
pages of tasks the workers were responsible for, and the penalties meted out if they weren’t fulfilled. Very few made reference to what they’d be paid. Some even banned talking during the workday, and demanded the freedmen be subservient in their actions at all times. “Did he allow you to bury him?”

  Her tears flowed again and she shook her head. “Master Atwater said anybody defying him would be thrown into the swamp, so they put Danny’s body in a wagon and drove him away.”

  She broke down and Drake eased her against him. His eyes closed as she sobbed out her despair. He said, “I’ll file a report in the morning and see if we can’t have Atwater arrested.” He knew he had a better chance of harnessing a rainbow. The Army would do nothing, and neither would the authorities, but he would take the matter as far as he could. In the meantime, he’d try to retrieve Daniel’s body.

  Drake rode to the Atwater place accompanied by Solomon. Skirting the house because he knew Atwater wouldn’t allow them on his land, they rode another mile before veering into an area that led to the swamp. The realist in him knew the search would be futile. Between the waters darkened by rotting vegetation and the gators, he’d be lucky to find anything. But for Erma, Allie, and her son, Bailey, he at least had to try. He and Solomon slowly guided their mounts through the thick expanse of soaring oaks and muddy ground hoping to find the tracks of the wagon the body had been transported in. If they could, they might be able to determine where he’d been placed in the water. After an hour of searching through the swamp’s gloom, they found what appeared to be fresh evidence of wheels. They were visually searching the surroundings when two men on horseback appeared from behind the trees. Both were armed. The older man was Boyd Meachem, Liam Atwater’s overseer. The younger, Boyd’s son, Ennis.

  From behind the raised rifle, Boyd—whose thin face resembled a skull—grinned, showing off tobacco-stained teeth. “Well, lookee here, Ennis. We caught ourselves some uppity trespassers. What’re you doing here, LeVeq?”

  “Came to retrieve Daniel Downs’s body.”

  Still smiling, Boyd asked, “Who?”

  Ennis said, “He’s gator food by now.”

  His father hissed, “Shut up!” before saying to Drake, “Don’t recall anybody by that name.”