Passage to St. Kitts
Chapter 3
Will opened the front door of the Governor's house and entered. He refused to ring the bell and make the butler admit him into his own house. Well not precisely his own, but the house he was living in after all.
Will made it halfway up the stairs when the butler appeared. "Master William, sir, the Governor asked that you step into the library now that you've returned."
Will paused, and then turned and retraced his steps back down the stairs. "Thank you, Peters," he said. The butler opened the library door and bowed Will inside.
"Ah, Will!" said the Governor, rising from his desk. "I wanted to speak to you for a moment. Please, sit down." He moved to a sideboard and poured two brandies from a crystal decanter. Handing one to Will, he sat down again behind his desk."
"I was speaking to Charles Haversham today, and he told me he was planning on bringing some of his slaves to auction as he's a bit short of funds at the moment, so I purchased one of them from him. I thought he'd make you a reasonable valet."
Will started violently. "You bought me a slave? A valet?" He wasn't sure which word shocked him more.
Governor Swann held up his hand. "I know, I know. We've had several discussions about the slave trade, and I'm well aware of your opinions about it. I don't disagree with you, Will, you know that. However, the fact remains that the slave trade is one of the foundations on which the economy of the West Indies rests. Whether slavery is right, wrong or indifferent doesn't change that fact. Think of it this way. By employing this man as your valet, you've saved him from a dreadful fate on Haversham's sugar plantation."
Will leaned forward. "Sir, you're the Governor of Jamaica. Surely it is in your power to do something about the appalling way these black men and women are treated."
The Governor looked at Will patiently. "I have to move carefully, Will. You know that. There are too many powerful men involved in the slave trade, and too many more that own slaves to work their plantations. Getting myself recalled to England in disgrace wouldn't help anyone. My own slaves at the plantation in Antigua are treated well, and I do what I can to quietly better the lot of the ones here under my jurisdiction."
Will downed the rest of his brandy, rose and walked over to the decanter to pour himself another. The idea of owning a slave still appalled him. "Will, he belongs to you." Said the Governor, "Set him free if you feel you must, but think about it first. You can't merely turn him out the door with nowhere to go and no way to earn a living. Don't do anything hasty."
Will slowly took his seat again. "All right."
The Governor looked kindly at Will. "He's in reasonable health considering he's been on Haversham's plantation. I've had the doctor come in to take a look at him. He's malnourished, of course, but there will be no lasting ill affects. I've had my man provide him with some clothing to start with. I can't imagine he knows anything about being a valet, but Wilkins can instruct him."
Will swallowed hard. His father-in-law was a kind man. Calling the doctor to visit a slave was more than most men would do. "Thank you, sir."
--
Will stepped into the room he shared with Elizabeth and closed the door behind him. Stripping off his coat, he went to hang it in the wardrobe. Sighing, he looked at the array of coats, waistcoats, shirts and breeches hanging there. More clothes than he'd ever had in his life. It was nothing, of course to what the Governor had hanging in his closets. Nor Elizabeth, who not only had clothes hanging in this room, but also had racks and racks of gowns stored elsewhere in the house. When Will had married Elizabeth just over a year ago, he'd had firm plans. He would reside here in the Governor's house so that Elizabeth could continue to live the life she was accustomed to, but he wouldn't allow that fact to change who he, himself, was. He'd planned on continuing to work as a blacksmith, merely going home to the Governor's house rather than climbing the stairs to the loft in the shop where he'd always slept before. There was so much, however, that he hadn't considered. For heaven's sake, he'd had to have Elizabeth teach him proper table manners so he wouldn't embarrass himself. And he'd never expected to find himself attending social gatherings given by the elite of Jamaica. He was uncomfortably aware that he didn't fit in there. And he no longer fit in with the young men he'd been friendly with before, young tradesmen and journeymen craftsmen who worked in the less prosperous section of town, near his own shop. They were uncomfortable in his company now, he who was married to the Governor's daughter. Will sighed again. Was he losing himself?
A discreet tap sounded on the door. "Come in," said Will, turning from his contemplation of his clothing. Wilkins, his father-in-law's valet appeared, followed by a large black man.
Wilkins addressed the other man. "This is Master William. You will be seeing to him." With a bow to Will, and a sniff of disapproval, Wilkins stepped back into the hall and closed the door. The black man stood stock still, staring warily at Will. He was tall and broad shouldered though his sunken cheeks and the way his cotton shirt hung on him showed that he was considerably underweight.
Will spoke to him uncomfortably. "What is your name?"
"They call me Joseph."
Will gestured to a chair. "Please sit."
Joseph lowered himself into the chair, still looking wary. Will sank onto the stool in front of Elizabeth's dressing table. "How long have you worked for Haversham?" He refused to say "owned by."
"Five years, sir."
"And before that?"
"I worked in a warehouse near the docks, sir, for ten years. Before that I lived in Africa, sir. Was brought here on a ship." Will shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable. Joseph spoke again, "That man, he say I'm to look after you?"
"Yes," said Will, clearing his throat. "I don't suppose you know how to be a valet."
Joseph looked at him. Was there a glint of humor in those dark eyes? "I don't know what that word means."
Will lips twisted into a wry smile. "I'm not entirely sure I do either."
--
"Thank you, Mary, that will be all for tonight," said Elizabeth.
"Yes, ma'am," said the maid obediently, setting down the hairbrush she'd just used on Elizabeth's hair. With a smile and a quick curtsy, Mary exited the room, shutting the door.
"So, tell me again what Jack said to you about the swords," requested Elizabeth, turning toward Will.
"He wants me to go to St. Kitts with him to talk to this planter who wants a custom weapon," replied Will. "I'm seriously considering it."
"It would be pleasant to go," agreed Elizabeth. "We could call it a belated honeymoon. After all, we never did get to Antigua last year."
Will looked up at her. "You'd want to come too?"
Elizabeth looked affronted. "Of course I'd want to come!" She got up from her dressing table and came across to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You don't think I'd let you go sailing off on a pirate ship without me, do you?"
Will kissed her. "Privateer, darling. I'm not sure your father would be in favor of you sailing on the Black Pearl."
Elizabeth stepped back and shrugged. "As long as my husband approves, my father really hasn't the right to forbid me." She watched Will struggle out of his clothes. "Why don't you have your new valet help you?" Will paused and shot her an exasperated look, then continued to undress. Elizabeth smiled. "What in the world are you going to do with him?"
Will shrugged. "I thought I'd take him with me to the shop tomorrow. He'd probably be useful there. Who knows, maybe he'd like to learn smithing."
"You can probably use the help there, Will. Having someone to do the more basic work would free you up to concentrate on blades." Elizabeth took off her dressing gown, and draped it over the foot of the bed.
"That's true. What about the trip to St. Kitts?"
"Bring him along," Elizabeth suggested, settling into bed and pulling the covers up.
"I could I suppose," said Will dropping his own dressing gown on the foot of the bed, and climbing in. Reaching out he pulled Elizabeth over so her head was on his shoulder. "Mmmmm," he sighed. "I have to be up early tomorrow."
Elizabeth sat up abruptly. "Not again!" she exclaimed. "Who is it this time?"
"Relax, love," Will replied, pulling her back down. "John MacLaren's cousin from Georgia. Or was it Virginia? I can't remember. Edmund or Edward or something. I think John put him up to it."
With a bad tempered flounce, Elizabeth lay back down. "You have to stop fighting so many duels," she said sharply. "One of these days you'll run up against someone who is a better swordsman than you're expecting."
"Elizabeth," said Will with exasperation, "there isn't much I can do about it. I'M not the one picking the quarrels. The kid I'm meeting tomorrow came up to me at the Smithfield's the other night. We were barely introduced when he started with the usual string of insults. The only way I can think to stop this nonsense is by killing one of them, and I scarcely want to do that."
Elizabeth glared at him. "I don't like it."
"Oh, come now, my love," Will coaxed. "You don't want to send me off tomorrow to my possible death without something to remember me by, do you?" He pulled her into his arms again. After a token pretence of resistance, Elizabeth melted against him.
Chapter 3
Will opened the front door of the Governor's house and entered. He refused to ring the bell and make the butler admit him into his own house. Well not precisely his own, but the house he was living in after all.
Will made it halfway up the stairs when the butler appeared. "Master William, sir, the Governor asked that you step into the library now that you've returned."
Will paused, and then turned and retraced his steps back down the stairs. "Thank you, Peters," he said. The butler opened the library door and bowed Will inside.
"Ah, Will!" said the Governor, rising from his desk. "I wanted to speak to you for a moment. Please, sit down." He moved to a sideboard and poured two brandies from a crystal decanter. Handing one to Will, he sat down again behind his desk."
"I was speaking to Charles Haversham today, and he told me he was planning on bringing some of his slaves to auction as he's a bit short of funds at the moment, so I purchased one of them from him. I thought he'd make you a reasonable valet."
Will started violently. "You bought me a slave? A valet?" He wasn't sure which word shocked him more.
Governor Swann held up his hand. "I know, I know. We've had several discussions about the slave trade, and I'm well aware of your opinions about it. I don't disagree with you, Will, you know that. However, the fact remains that the slave trade is one of the foundations on which the economy of the West Indies rests. Whether slavery is right, wrong or indifferent doesn't change that fact. Think of it this way. By employing this man as your valet, you've saved him from a dreadful fate on Haversham's sugar plantation."
Will leaned forward. "Sir, you're the Governor of Jamaica. Surely it is in your power to do something about the appalling way these black men and women are treated."
The Governor looked at Will patiently. "I have to move carefully, Will. You know that. There are too many powerful men involved in the slave trade, and too many more that own slaves to work their plantations. Getting myself recalled to England in disgrace wouldn't help anyone. My own slaves at the plantation in Antigua are treated well, and I do what I can to quietly better the lot of the ones here under my jurisdiction."
Will downed the rest of his brandy, rose and walked over to the decanter to pour himself another. The idea of owning a slave still appalled him. "Will, he belongs to you." Said the Governor, "Set him free if you feel you must, but think about it first. You can't merely turn him out the door with nowhere to go and no way to earn a living. Don't do anything hasty."
Will slowly took his seat again. "All right."
The Governor looked kindly at Will. "He's in reasonable health considering he's been on Haversham's plantation. I've had the doctor come in to take a look at him. He's malnourished, of course, but there will be no lasting ill affects. I've had my man provide him with some clothing to start with. I can't imagine he knows anything about being a valet, but Wilkins can instruct him."
Will swallowed hard. His father-in-law was a kind man. Calling the doctor to visit a slave was more than most men would do. "Thank you, sir."
--
Will stepped into the room he shared with Elizabeth and closed the door behind him. Stripping off his coat, he went to hang it in the wardrobe. Sighing, he looked at the array of coats, waistcoats, shirts and breeches hanging there. More clothes than he'd ever had in his life. It was nothing, of course to what the Governor had hanging in his closets. Nor Elizabeth, who not only had clothes hanging in this room, but also had racks and racks of gowns stored elsewhere in the house. When Will had married Elizabeth just over a year ago, he'd had firm plans. He would reside here in the Governor's house so that Elizabeth could continue to live the life she was accustomed to, but he wouldn't allow that fact to change who he, himself, was. He'd planned on continuing to work as a blacksmith, merely going home to the Governor's house rather than climbing the stairs to the loft in the shop where he'd always slept before. There was so much, however, that he hadn't considered. For heaven's sake, he'd had to have Elizabeth teach him proper table manners so he wouldn't embarrass himself. And he'd never expected to find himself attending social gatherings given by the elite of Jamaica. He was uncomfortably aware that he didn't fit in there. And he no longer fit in with the young men he'd been friendly with before, young tradesmen and journeymen craftsmen who worked in the less prosperous section of town, near his own shop. They were uncomfortable in his company now, he who was married to the Governor's daughter. Will sighed again. Was he losing himself?
A discreet tap sounded on the door. "Come in," said Will, turning from his contemplation of his clothing. Wilkins, his father-in-law's valet appeared, followed by a large black man.
Wilkins addressed the other man. "This is Master William. You will be seeing to him." With a bow to Will, and a sniff of disapproval, Wilkins stepped back into the hall and closed the door. The black man stood stock still, staring warily at Will. He was tall and broad shouldered though his sunken cheeks and the way his cotton shirt hung on him showed that he was considerably underweight.
Will spoke to him uncomfortably. "What is your name?"
"They call me Joseph."
Will gestured to a chair. "Please sit."
Joseph lowered himself into the chair, still looking wary. Will sank onto the stool in front of Elizabeth's dressing table. "How long have you worked for Haversham?" He refused to say "owned by."
"Five years, sir."
"And before that?"
"I worked in a warehouse near the docks, sir, for ten years. Before that I lived in Africa, sir. Was brought here on a ship." Will shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable. Joseph spoke again, "That man, he say I'm to look after you?"
"Yes," said Will, clearing his throat. "I don't suppose you know how to be a valet."
Joseph looked at him. Was there a glint of humor in those dark eyes? "I don't know what that word means."
Will lips twisted into a wry smile. "I'm not entirely sure I do either."
--
"Thank you, Mary, that will be all for tonight," said Elizabeth.
"Yes, ma'am," said the maid obediently, setting down the hairbrush she'd just used on Elizabeth's hair. With a smile and a quick curtsy, Mary exited the room, shutting the door.
"So, tell me again what Jack said to you about the swords," requested Elizabeth, turning toward Will.
"He wants me to go to St. Kitts with him to talk to this planter who wants a custom weapon," replied Will. "I'm seriously considering it."
"It would be pleasant to go," agreed Elizabeth. "We could call it a belated honeymoon. After all, we never did get to Antigua last year."
Will looked up at her. "You'd want to come too?"
Elizabeth looked affronted. "Of course I'd want to come!" She got up from her dressing table and came across to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You don't think I'd let you go sailing off on a pirate ship without me, do you?"
Will kissed her. "Privateer, darling. I'm not sure your father would be in favor of you sailing on the Black Pearl."
Elizabeth stepped back and shrugged. "As long as my husband approves, my father really hasn't the right to forbid me." She watched Will struggle out of his clothes. "Why don't you have your new valet help you?" Will paused and shot her an exasperated look, then continued to undress. Elizabeth smiled. "What in the world are you going to do with him?"
Will shrugged. "I thought I'd take him with me to the shop tomorrow. He'd probably be useful there. Who knows, maybe he'd like to learn smithing."
"You can probably use the help there, Will. Having someone to do the more basic work would free you up to concentrate on blades." Elizabeth took off her dressing gown, and draped it over the foot of the bed.
"That's true. What about the trip to St. Kitts?"
"Bring him along," Elizabeth suggested, settling into bed and pulling the covers up.
"I could I suppose," said Will dropping his own dressing gown on the foot of the bed, and climbing in. Reaching out he pulled Elizabeth over so her head was on his shoulder. "Mmmmm," he sighed. "I have to be up early tomorrow."
Elizabeth sat up abruptly. "Not again!" she exclaimed. "Who is it this time?"
"Relax, love," Will replied, pulling her back down. "John MacLaren's cousin from Georgia. Or was it Virginia? I can't remember. Edmund or Edward or something. I think John put him up to it."
With a bad tempered flounce, Elizabeth lay back down. "You have to stop fighting so many duels," she said sharply. "One of these days you'll run up against someone who is a better swordsman than you're expecting."
"Elizabeth," said Will with exasperation, "there isn't much I can do about it. I'M not the one picking the quarrels. The kid I'm meeting tomorrow came up to me at the Smithfield's the other night. We were barely introduced when he started with the usual string of insults. The only way I can think to stop this nonsense is by killing one of them, and I scarcely want to do that."
Elizabeth glared at him. "I don't like it."
"Oh, come now, my love," Will coaxed. "You don't want to send me off tomorrow to my possible death without something to remember me by, do you?" He pulled her into his arms again. After a token pretence of resistance, Elizabeth melted against him.