A Slave of the Shadows, page 26
Ben appeared in the doorway.
“Yes?” I said, though there was a fluttering in my breast at the sight of him. My uncle…yet my father. Now that was a story Lucille would run with. I laughed inwardly, but my mouth formed a taut line.
“I hoped we could talk about your father’s business affairs.” He offered a reserved smile.
“Yes, I suppose that is an urgent matter. Whitney, children, would you please excuse me?”
“Of course. I have an appointment with the twins’ tutor this morning. I’ll catch up with you later.” Whitney rose and tried to shoo the children from the room.
“But I don’t want to do my studies today,” Jack said, scowling up at Whitney.
“Me either,” Kimie said as Whitney led them away.
Alone, I looked at Ben. “Would you prefer the study?”
“For what I wish to discuss with you, I thought maybe we could take a ride,” he said, looking uncomfortable.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake! What now?” I grumbled.
“Your horse is ready outside,” he said.
I changed into my riding attire and met him outside. He lifted me into my saddle, mounted his horse, and we were off.
What does he wish to talk about that requires we speak far from any listening ears? I wondered as we rode in silence, his mount leading the way.
When Livingston was far behind us, he reined in his horse. “Do you care to walk for a spell?”
Like Father, he was attractive, but he was far removed from Father’s uptight manner. Ben Hendricks was open and unguarded. Maybe a lifetime spent being my overseer—my protector—had produced the love that radiated from his face. It filled me with hope and the desire to learn more about him.
Reining my horse to a stop, I slid to the ground. I waited for him to speak.
“I will get right to the point. You remember the words your father said before he—right before he passed?”
“He said a few things, as I recall. To which are you referring?”
“The words he whispered to me.”
“Umm…yes?” I remembered his words, but I had dismissed them as the confusion of a dying man.
“As you know, he asked me to go to his warehouse at the dock.”
“Right.”
“In the warehouse, I found slaves.”
“Slaves?”
“Slaves from the Barry Plantation. I was busy trying to keep up with trailing you on the day of the massacre, so your shock is my shock.”
“Why would he go to the trouble of carrying dead slaves to a warehouse?” I asked, confused.
“They were alive, Willow. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. When he left on the schooner that day he didn’t go to town, he went in search of those slaves. He came across the dead slaves in those swamps, but he didn’t give up hope—he searched farther in the swamps. In the warehouse were four runaways he found out there. It’s what he was talking about. Getting them out on his ships.
“The secrets we thought surrounded this family go deeper than even I knew. We have barely scratched the surface. I spoke to Captain Gillies and it seems after the death of your mother, Charles’s focus turned to protecting you with a feverish obsession. The love he had for Olivia and the loss of her tormented him. Visions of her murder haunted him. It pushed him to want to make a change to this oppressed world we live in.
“Charles picked up the torch your mother left behind and carried it all these years. His ships, the warehouses, his unexplained trips, all were part of his efforts to free hundreds of slaves.” Pride swelled in his voice as he explained the deeds of my father. Tears threatened to escape the corners of his eyes. “He was a hero, Willow. My brother, your father…” He reached out and pulled me into his embrace.
Welcoming the comfort of his arms, I rested my cheek against his chest. The years of yearning to belong fell away. In his arms I had found…acceptance.
THE SKIES WERE HEAVY WITH the promise of showers, but when the sun peeked from behind the clouds, I admired the beauty its light cast upon Livingston. I had always loved my home, but now that affection grew with the full understanding of what Livingston stood for. It was a haven of hope in the midst of a land overtaken with hatred. I was free from the secrets that had enslaved me.
I felt uplifted by my understanding of the steps that had guided my life. In the stories of my parents, I found purpose and the inspiration to go on. I had to protect their legacy, the legacy my mother died for. I had spent too many years in confusion, longing for something that wasn’t meant to be mine. She would remain a ghost of the past. Father’s death had left a man to take his place. Even from the grave he was protecting me…his love reigned supreme.
Now, as I sat on the porch swing overlooking the plantation, my thoughts turned to Whitney. She sat beside me, her shoulders stooped and burdened with worries. An extremely pregnant Mary Grace waddled onto the veranda with the child from the swamps in tow.
In the hopes of relieving Whitney of some of her uncertainties, I smiled warmly at Mary Grace. “Mary Grace, would you mind taking Jack and Kimie to the garden for some sweet tea and one or two of those delightful shortbread cookies Mammy whipped up?”
“Of, course Missus,” she said. “Come along, children.” She ushered them away, but not before I saw the slight bounce of old in her step.
The bond that she had developed with the boy whose hand lay secure in hers as they walked away brought tears to my eyes. In his sadness, she had found an escape from her own. Together they healed one another.
“Let’s take a quiet stroll before those clouds give way,” I said to Whitney, grabbing her hand. She tried to resist, but I pulled her along.
I released her hand when we reached the walkway around the pond. “I wanted to speak with you about what your plan is now.”
Whitney walked on, taking her time to reply. “I’ve been giving it a lot of consideration. So much has changed. The funds left in my father’s estate won’t last for long: I need to find work and a place for the twins and me to live permanently. Aunt Em invited us to come live with her. But we aren’t her responsibility and I want to stand on my own two feet. I’ve depended on people long enough; I need to be in control of my own affairs. I hate to leave you when your own world has turned inside out, but I can’t expect to live off your family any longer.”
“Nonsense. I figured you would say something foolish like that, Whitney Barry. I can’t possibly run this place without you. I will hire you. Not out of the goodness of my heart, but because I need you as much as you need me. Besides, until recently, that house has been a house full of empty rooms. Now it seems to have become a home to a family of women and children.” I laughed fondly at the irony of it all.
My fear of the future and what it meant for us all occupied an ever-expanding space in my mind. How could I ever do it all—run Father’s business, this plantation, and sort through the still-unraveling extent of Father’s involvement in the smuggling of slaves? I would not see all my father’s and mother’s dedication to breaking the bonds of slavery die in vain. Who better to help me carry the torch of progress…than my partner in crime?
Book Two coming early winter 2019
A Guardian of Slaves
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Whar = where
Helt = held
gawd = god
larn = learn
bin = been
fust = first
axed = asked
seed = seen
allus = always
folkses = folks
knowed = knew
’oman = woman
purty = pretty
mussy = mercy
’bout = about
De = the
jus’= just
dere = there
chillum = children
wukked = worked
wuk = work
wid = with
’cause = because
Dey = they
Lak =like
Et = it
dem or ‘em = them
’fore = before
’members = remember
Yessum (polite greeting to a lady)
Deir = their
Dan = than
Git = get
Gitting = getting
Axin’ = asking
Dat =that
Somepin’ = something
Warn’t = weren’t
’lowed = allowed
Cleant = clean
Atter = after
Evvy = every
sho’ = sure
hangin’ = hanging
evvything = everything
forgit = forget
tole = told
et = ate
’most = almost
Den = then
tuk = took
luk = look
mis’= miss
li’l = little
’nuf = enough
Gwin = going
bes’= best
Laws often changed throughout the 1700s and 1800s. In America, each state had its own laws. All of this can sometimes add a gray area to research: what laws were actually in place in what year, and in which state did the laws apply? And when did the laws change?
In the colonial and antebellum eras, only single women and widows could own property and sign contracts. When a woman married, her husband took ownership of her property—unless her family set up a legal settlement before marriage.
When researching for A Slave of the Shadows, my sources led me to believe that a slave owner could, in his or her last will and testament, set slaves free for faithful service. During my many trips to Charleston, South Carolina for research, I found nothing to deny that this was, in fact, the case. So, following extensive research, when writing the ending of my story, I had Olivia give Mammy and Mary Grace their freedom in her will.
However, in my recent studies, I’ve discovered that women weren’t allowed to have wills. Then I came across the article “Married Women’s Property Law: 1800–1850,” written in 1982 by Richard H. Chused of the New York Law School, and realized it may not be as cut and dried as I’d thought. (This article will be posted on my website)
In 1820 the emancipation of slaves became even more restricted, and slaves could only be freed through an act of the legislature. In 1841 (five to six years after my fictional character Olivia’s death) “The Act to Prevent the Emancipation of Slaves” changed the freeing of slaves by an owner in their last will and testament altogether. My research led me to information stating that in 1850 in Charleston, only two slaves were recorded as earning their freedom through the courts. Slaves had no choice but to try to take their freedom.
In closing, I wanted to note that Olivia, as the sole heir of Livingston, would have inherited all properties (which included slaves) from her father. It’s possible—and my story may reveal more on this in future novels—that Olivia’s father set up a trust or arranged a legal settlement with Charles to protect Olivia’s estate.
Having my novels stay as close to history as possible is of utmost importance to me. I’ve spent months researching and studying documents to make sure I line up with history as accurately as I can without actually living in the time period and with the limited sources I can find.
In A Slave of the Shadows, Mammy was purchased by Charles and Olivia after their marriage. It’s quite possible that Olivia could have had the papers done up that would give Mammy and her daughter freedom upon her death. As an artistic choice, I decided to leave Mammy and her daughter freed upon Olivia’s death.
On my website, under “Extras,” I will post all articles I’ve found in my research, if you are interested in researching for yourself. Thank you for your understanding.
Naomi lives in Northern Alberta. Her love for travel means her suitcase is always on standby while she awaits her next plane ticket and adventure. Her love for history and the Deep South is driven by the several years she spent as a child living in a Tennessee plantation house. She comes from a family of six sisters. She married her high school sweetheart and has two teenage children and two dogs named Ginger and Snaps.
Creativity and passion are the focus of her life. Apart from writing fiction, her interests include interior design, cooking new recipes, throwing lavish dinner parties, movies, health, and fitness.
A Slave of the Shadows is her first novel.
Naomi Finley, A Slave of the Shadows
