Chapter 9 - The Story of Sir Thomas Kere

As you might have guessed, Samuel never went on his trip to Atlanta after that night. His father was forced to go alone, and he remained close by to be with me and my family in what had become another difficult time. He kept his promise to me however, and we took our trip to New Orleans together the following week.

He arranged for us to have dinner on a paddle steamer along the Mississippi. Thinking back on it now, it was probably the single most elegant, beautiful, and memorable night of my life. Samuel wore his navy blue suit, with his grey was it coat and bow tie. I was wearing my favorite usual burgundy dress, with my white lace sleeves and of course my favorite necklace. My mother and sister spent all of about two hours ahead of time helping me fix my hair, all to be decorated with my mother's silver tiara.

I can still picture him sitting across the table from me next to the railing of the boat, with that sweet dimple smile of his, star struck by my appearance.

Lina sipped quietly at her soup, glancing up at Samuel as he did the same. The sound of the paddle apt splashing its way down the Mississippi River floated across the calm rippling waters around them. The candle at the center of the table illuminated the two of them, as they quietly tried to enjoy each other's company.

Samuel sipped his soup loudly by accident. Lina let out subtle snicker, trying to cover her face with her napkin. The couples at the tables near by glanced over and rolled their eyes at him. Samuel dropped his head and laughed.

"I still have the worst luck eating soups without making a fool of myself," he said to her.

Lina smiled at him. "It's fine. My mother us to slap me and my sister on the top of the hand every time we slurped our soups. After the back of your hand was as red as a rose, you tend to not do it by accident."

Samuel continued to try and enjoy his tomato soup quietly. Before his spoon even reached his lips, he let out another loud slurping sound. Samuel laughed and placed his spoon back down on the table in defeat.

"I guess I'll just wait for the main course," he replied shaking his head.

Lina set her spoon back down on the table, choosing not to taunt him as she continued to eat.

"So, how long has your family been living in Louisiana?" asked Lina trying to stir up a conversation.

"Since before Louisiana became an American colony. My grandfather was an naval officer for the king of France, and made his living after he was abandoned by his King and forced to stay when the Spanish took control. How about yours?"

"My mothers family came over from England and lived in Maryland throughout the revolution. As for my my father's side, I would assume you would know more about him then I having lived close by," replied Lina.

Samuel raised his eyebrows and looked out across the railing next to him across the water. "Oh, I've heard and seen a few things."

Lina stared at Samuel, unsure what he meant. "Like what?"

Samuel gazed back at her. "You've never heard anything about your grandfather before he passed?"

Lina shrugged. "I just heard he owned an estate in the south. My father never talked about him to us. They never saw eye to eye from what I understand."

Samuel scratched his nose and rested his wrists on the edge of the table. "Well, most I've ever heard is from rumors and stories growing up."

Placing her hands in her lap, Lina leaned forward so Samuel away from prying ears.

"Supposedly, your grandfather kept to himself quite a bit. From the day he moved in, he never left. Not even once. Strangely enough, he never seemed happy living there, but everyone who has visited for a ball or party says they loved it there and would come back in a heartbeat."

"What about you?" Asked Lina.

"I'd love it there, so long as you're there with me," Samuel replied.

Lina's face turned cherry red. She looked away from him. "Other than the you and the library, I can see why he would have hated living there. I've dreaded living there since the day we moved in."

"One story was that one night, when I was a kid, my mother said she heard the sound of someone's bloodcurdling scream from the mansion all the way from our home. The next week, we found out your grandfather's wife had passed away, and he remarried three months later."

"That's a little bit scary," said Lina sitting back in her chair.

"That's not even the strangest story. Four years later, I was riding past late one night, and I saw something that looked like a big black cat prowling around in the trees out front."

"I know my grandfather's third wife had a cat, supposedly."

"No, this wasn't your average sized house cat," said Samuel staring at her. "It was a cat the size of a bear."

Lina sat back at looked at the seriousness in his expression. He wasn't kidding. "Did you ever seen it again after that?"

"No. I rode past every now and again, keeping my eyes out for it, but never saw it again. I did hear about a courier who went missing along the road close by one time. I never liked the place, up until now. I guess my suspicious were wrong and put to rest," said Samuel.

"What made you change your mind?" asked Lina.

"Seeing you sitting up on that balcony," Samuel replied.

Lina laughed and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face.

"What's some of the things you've seen why living there?" asked Samuel.

Staring down at the table, Lina remembered her first night at the mansion, as she was locked in the bathroom, screaming for someone to help her. She recalled the time she watched Morcel drowned in the quicksand along with his associates, as she stood helpless. And she remembered the night she followed the what might have been a floating candelabra through house, and down to the same basement Gordon would later end his life in.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried," said Samuel.

Lina looked back up from the table at him, trying to forget the terrible memories.

"Here I brought you to get away from your house, and all we can do is talk about it," said Samuel.

"No, it's alright. I'm having a lovely evening anyway," Lina replied smiling at him, and looking out across the river at the warm, orange glow of the city along the river bank.

Lina laid her head on Samuel's shoulder as the rode in the carriage back to the mansion. The driver kept the ride smooth and slow, trying not to disturb the resting couple.

Lifting her head, Lina glanced over to see Samuel's eyes closed with his head resting against the back window. She reached over and pulled out her book tucked in between the seat and the carriage wall. Lina unraveled the leather strap keeping the book closed. She made sure Samuel was still asleep as she opened the book to a journal entry she hadn't read yet. Holding the book close to the carriage window, she used the carriage lamp outside for light.

My suspicions were right. Durand stole my journal with the intention of trying to expose me. Luckily, he brought the journal to Officer Tenner explaining his intentions. Writing in English alone was enough to convince him I was a traitor, but he wanted Tenner to translate it for him.

Tenner told him it would take quite some time, and took the journal from him. He then proceeded to wash away all of the pages which could be used against me, and brought the journal back to me telling me his plan.

Sadly, Durand fell overboard the next morning before everyone was awake. No one was around to hear the sound of him shouting in the wake of the ship, with the waves washing over him as the tide dragged him down.

As a result of the tragic incident, I was obligated to give Tenner a promotion. I suspect he and I will remain close even after our duty to his Majesty is finished.

June 6, 1746

Admiral Thomas Kere

Lina turned to the next page to see the next several pages had been torn or were written in French. All that could be made out were the dates at the bottom corners of each page. Turning the pages, she finally opened to one that was intact and written in English.

After 37 years of service, that pompous imbecile who calls himself King, has relieved me of my services. I now see why he cowers at that polished horse apple away from Paris, Versailles. He's too afraid to face his own people knowing he has no right to be King and no leadership to his own people.

As a token of gratitude for my service, he has given me a sizable plot of land not far from New Orleans for me to build upon. It has been requested of me to establish a plantation for myself there to help better serve our Majesty, but I will do no such thing.

I intended to build myself a home to retire to that will match the luxury of that mansion our traitorous King undeservingly resides. Enjoying myself, hosting lavish balls, and spoiling myself till the day I am laid to rest. The only difference will be I deserved my mansion for my patriotism and lifelong devotion, rather than live there while strangling the life out a nation desperate for a true King. I even know the proper way to build it; the Merchant will be my foundation. She has been a loyal ship, and I know she will make a loyal home.

To no surprise, Tenner was also relieved of his service and given his own plot of land not far away from my own. I suspect he and I will have much to discuss in the future, living like Kings away from France.

August 12, 1752

Former Admiral Thomas Kere

Edward Gracey. That is his name. A bastard child, but my own nonetheless. I only just received the news this morning. Marie and I met while I was in New Orleans waiting for my orders to return home, and she kept me company for the majority of my torment.

Having finished building my sizable estate, with only myself to fill the space, I have invited her and my new son to come live with me. I care not for marriage, but a women forced to raise a child by herself in a pirate port city like New Orleans is downright barbaric.

Any son of mine, bastard or not, is still my own flesh and blood, and will be raised right.

May 23, 1753

Sir Thomas Kere

That half witted King of ours has finally overstepped his bounds. We are at war with the English. As much as I would enjoy taking command of another ship and lay into the English dogs, I have given up that life to raise a family. I no longer care for the squabbles of France. I only choose to mock them. I have established an arsenal in the basement, though I hope I might never have to use it. So long as this war keeps it's distance from my home, I will not take action.

I had a self portrait commissioned showing my uncanny leadership and bravery, as well as one dedicated to the Merchant Royal. I've already become fond of both of them. This big house could use more paintings.

November 19, 1756

Sir Thomas Kere

Just as I expected. The French have lost control of Louisiana to the Spanish, via that Treaty of Paris they were obligated to sign. While they spent most of their time drinking wine and pretending to be Romans, their claim on this new world was lost from right out under their noses.

I only hope the Spanish can do a much better job at building a new nation on this soil than it's predecessors.

February 12, 1763

Sir Thomas Kere

The Spanish have grown too fond of my mansion. The other day, I had an Mr. Joaquín de Montserrat invade my home just to have dinner, unannounced. He and I discussed our notable achievements, although he had a tendency to polish his superiority over the French. I suspect he was trying to invoke some sort of hostile action out of me, but I did not bite. No doubt he was looking for any reason to take my mansion away from me.

My opinions of the Spanish were on bias at first. But I am now starting to despise their sense of entitlement. They are no better than the French. I suspect I will have to begin covering my tracks once again, or risk being held prisoner for life over minor accusations.

July 11, 1767

I have hidden my journal in Marie's new library she had be build on the second floor. I fashioned a small space in the bookshelf to hid it behind a false panel.

My timing was impeccable. No more than two days after I hid my journal in the bookshelf, Montserrat returned with his men to search the house. They suspected me of being an English informant, which I told them is preposterous. One of them laid a hand across Edward's face as he tried to defend me. I felt urged to stab the man with the knife sitting on the table, but I kept my composure.

I hate the English, almost as much as I hate the French and Spanish. Had they found my journal, I have no doubt they would have taken me away. I have found myself in a position of not knowing who my allegiance belongs to. Certainly not the French or Spanish, or the English. I suppose my alliance is to myself, and my family.

July 14, 1767

I had forgotten I had hidden this in the bookshelf. My time has been wasted on shooing away the gypsy rable that now plague my quiet space away from the city. One gypsee women had the gaul yesterday of asking me for a place to stay inside the house for her and her caravan. I kindly shoed them away. My hatred for them is unwavering, fueled by the loss of my son.

Edward has chosen to leave and go live in the colonies, feeling his place is north where he can aid in the creation of what he considers to be a new nation. I find his efforts foolhardy, but I am still proud of him nonetheless. He may not have my last name, but he has my military spirit. He urged me and his mother to come with him, but I told him I would never leave the mansion, and I have grown too old to venture out into the world. Though I long to see the open seas again.

Before he left, I made sure we had a portrait painted of him so we could alway see our handsome son away from home. I only hope he stays safe and doesn't do anything foolish.

September 2, 1773

Sir Thomas Kere

These nightmares are beginning to drive me mad. Night after night, I feel like the walls are closing in around me, and spinning endlessly into a crevasse. I wake up the following morning with headaches that make me want to crack my skull open and drain the pain.

On top of nightmares and headaches, I caught Marie wearing a necklace I did not buy her. She claimed she found it. I suspected Tenner of giving it to her. The two of them have been talking about me behind my back. I invited him over and we had drinks in gallery before he became tied up with other business. His wife later came questioning me whether or not I had seen him. I told her I no.

She had best keep her distance.

September 16, 1773

Sir Thomas Kere

Marie says she didn't hire that Mr. Suddle to help around the house, but I suspect she did without my permission. She's been getting on my nerves, saying I'm not well. The nightmares have grown more vicious, but I continue to wake up feeling better. I have no need for help. I'll be fine.

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Lina looked down at the date for the entry. He had written it backwards for some reason. She turned to the next page. It was blank. Between the pages, she could see the ripped remains of where someone removed the last entry.

She glanced up to see a short, older man, with a long white beard, in what looked like a nightgown with a ball and chain around his ankle standing outside the gate to the mansion. He lifted his thumb out to the carriage, looking for a ride. Lina stared at him as they drove past.

Lina nudge Samuel on the shoulder.

"Samuel! Did you see that?" she asked him.

Samuel sat up pretending he hadn't fallen asleep. He blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes. "See what?"

"That man looking for a ride," said Lina looking out the back window at him.

Samuel looked back out the window. "I don't see anyone."

She looked at him, baffled by his response. She looked back. The hitchhiker was gone.

Lina turned back around and sat in thought. She was sure she saw him, there was no doubt.

"Back already?" said Samuel looking out the window at the mansion.

The carriage parked in front of the house. Mr. Reed walked out from the front door and opened the carriage door for the two of them. "Welcome back Sir. How was your evening?" he asked.

"Was wonderful. Right dear?" said Samuel.

Samuel stepped out, and turned around to assist Lina out of the carriage.

Lina continued to sit on thought, with her hands in her lap.

"Lina, sweetheart?" asked Samuel.

Lina snapped out of her gaze. "Sorry. Was just… I swore I saw someone."

She picked up the journal from off the seat and grabbed Samuel's hand as she stepped out. Staring at the mansion, she felt the life already starting to be drained out of her once again. Lina sighed and wrapped her arm around Samuels as the two of them returned to the mansion.

I read my grandfather's journal hoping it would give me some answers about the mansion, but instead it only offered me more questions. I was beginning to fall under the suspicion someone didn't want anyone to know about the houses true history. Something was going on, and someone wanted to cover it up. With half of my grandfathers will missing, and the final pages of my great grandfather's journal torn out, I became determined to find out one way or another.