Chapter 30:
Remy looked up at the sky. The moon was rising after a prolonged dusk, and wondered if they should stop for the night. There'd been a good rest stop a ways back, but he was on the road leading home, and he was anxious to see home again. He'd been gone almost six months this time. The road was level, there wasn't much chance that either Rogue or Betsy would step into a hole and break a leg. He took a quick glance at Jubilee. She was exhausted; Remy had to push so hard to get to Canada before winter closed in up here, and the grueling pace had been telling on her spirits and strength. She was still enthusiastic in bed with him, but her willingness for anything else was virtually nil.
"Just a little further, chere. Hold on a little longer." She raised her head, looked at him with drooping eyelids that struggled to stay open, and nodded before her chin dropped back onto her chest.
He studied her. If he'd known that this last leg of the journey would take so long he would have found a train to take them a little closer to the town that Charles's mansion was in. He also would have waited until they were home before engaging her in bed games.
She had proved an enthusiastic partner. He had driven her wild with teasing and touches, giving her pleasure without taking it himself, until she caught him after one intense session with his pants down. The night after that she had asked him to take her for the first time. The satisfaction had been sweet. She loved it, and now it was the only thing she really had any enthusiasm for. The long trip through the wilds of upstate New York toward the Canadian border had sapped her strength.
There! A flash of white through the trees, a sudden widening of the road and the abrupt change from lumpy gravel to much smaller, finer grains, and then home stood spread out in front of him. He drank in the sight as Rogue, seeing the stable in the distance, picked up his pace. Betsy picked up her pace too, not knowing where they were, but knowing from Rogue's excited tail swish that up ahead was shelter and food. She was still careful not to jar her passenger, though, and Remy was once again amazed at her intelligence. The horse had gone out of her way to choose the smoothest way and the easiest paths so as not to hurt Jubilee.
The mansion stood at the top of the hill, an imposing structure that looked like the plantation houses in Louisiana, where he had been born. Fields of rolling, waving grass surrounded the house, some cultivated, some not. The slaves that Remy and Charles's son Scott and his friend Henry brought home worked those fields while Scott's wife (and Charles's daughter-in-law) Jean taught them how to read, write, and figure, something many of the slaves didn't presently know how to do. Very few of the slaves that Remy, Scott, and Henry brought home knew how to get along as free people. Remy had always thought of the mansion as something of an inn, admitting slaves and giving them a place to stay while they learned how to sustain themselves outside of the master/slave relationship, and while Charles paid for their freedom papers.
The slaves were brought here, and taught the basics while Charles obtained free papers for them. Each one, thanks to that teaching they were receiving, could then see the price paid for those papers, and decide how much they wanted to have taken out of their wages. The amount taken out would go toward the cost of getting those papers, and when they had paid for them in full, any brands they might have were removed and they were free to leave. Many did, eager to explore a world that had formerly been closed to them. A few stayed, content with their freedom, and became field hands or servants, both here at the mansion and at the breeding stables just up the road. Each one was treated fairly and impartially, and no whip or other implement of punishment was ever used on anyone here. They were wholly grateful for the kindness, and no one had ever abused that kindness and hospitality Charles showed them.
Remy pushed open the gate at the end of the lane, and Betsy trotted on through. He closed it, and then continued on up the lane. When he got to the front door, he pulled the rope attached to the bell.
From out of the darkness a small boy appeared, racing for the sound. He grinned, teeth showing white in the darkness, and smiled. "Mister Remy! Haven't seen you in a while!"
"Been a long time, non, Bobby?" Remy ruffled the youngster's sandy blond hair affectionately. "Well, I'm home, and will be home for a while. T'ink you can take Rogue and Betsy here up to de stables and untack dem? Den get de saddlebags an' bring dem up to de house?"
"Sure can, Mister Remy!" Bobby touched his hand to the brim of his cap and turned to the ghorses. "Uh, Mister Remy..." he trailed off.
Jubilee hadn't dismounted. She'd fallen forward over the saddle horn and laid her head on the arched neck of her mount, and gone completely to sleep. Remy walked over and slipped his arms around her waist, lifting her slight weight from the saddle and cradling her in his arms. Bobby gawked, forgetting the manners that he'd been taught at this display of tenderness from the famous loner. Remy said, 'Bobby? I think I asked you to do something?"
"Oh, yes, Sir! Going right now, Mister Remy!" Remy watched the boy walk off toward the stables in the darkness, glancing back occasionally as he went.
Remy turned back to the door, and started to lower Jubilee to the ground. She resisted, wrapping her arms around his neck in her sleep and hugging him tighter.
He was saved from having to wake her up as the front door opened and Jean came out. Remy smiled. Jean just did that to him. She had hair the brightest shade of red Remy had ever seen, and was also warm and motherly. "Remy!" she exclaimed, holding the door open as Remy stepped into the front hall, still carrying Jubilee. "We haven't seen you in ages!" She closed the door, and peeked over his shoulder to see the girl he carried. She sucked in her breath. "Oh, what a lovely girl! But she's so thin! Is she a slave, Remy?"
"Yes," Remy said. "Not now, though, now dat she here. Jean, are dere any rooms prepared for guests in de family wing?"
Jean's penetrating green eyes studied him. "Why not the slaves' quarters?" she asked.
Remy sighed. "As soon as she free I'm goin' to marry her. I love her. I seen her for de firs' time four years ago, but she too young den, an' she wouldn't leave her Papa to come nort' wit' me. Her papa finally sell her to me." He saw the curiosity in her eyes, and sighed again. "Remy really tired now, can we save de questions for tomorrow?"
Jean nodded. "Of course. Come on up. The room next to yours is open, actually; will that do for her?"
Remy started to climb the winding staircase toward the second level. "Oui. Dat do fine."
Jean helped him get the dress off, get the shoes off, and tuck the sleeping girl into the bed. As soon as Remy was certain Jubilee was comfortable, he went to his room next door and fell into his bed, still fully dressed, and slept.
"Well, good morning, Remy," said a measured, even voice when Remy wandered into the breakfast room the next morning.
"Bon matin, to you too, Charles," Remy said to the tall smiling man sitting alone at the table. "Café, sil vous plait," he said to the servant as the woman finished refilling Charles's cup with tea, and slumped into a chair at the opposite end of the table, yawning. "Where everybody else?"
Charles smiled. "Jean is teaching at the moment; Scott and Henry, I believe are down by the stream fixing the water wheel in the mill. It is the middle of the morning, after all. Breakfast has been over for some time." He folded up the handbill he was reading carefully. "Jean tells me you have brought another lamb for our flock."
Remy took the cup of coffee the servant brought with a smile of thanks. "Merci. Her name is Jubilee, Charles. She is a slave, though was never treated like one by her former master." He proceeded to tell Charles Xavier all about the young woman sleeping soundly upstairs. "So I brought her here," he said, finishing his story. "I want to free her, and then I want to marry her."
Xavier's eyebrows climbed into his hairline. He had the same sandy blond hair that his nephew Bobby had, cut in the same style. "'Marry', Remy? Not your usual style."
"I know," Remy said soberly. "I don' know, she jus'…she's different den any girl I ever met before. She special."
"We're all special," Charles said wryly, eyes twinkling. "But I understand. Why not go upstairs and see if she's awake, and I'll have Ororo send her boy Evan up to the room with a tray?"
Remy grinned and got up. "Oui, I appreciate dat, Charles. When Henry come in, t'ink he can come up and see to her?" He was the mansion's resident doctor.
"She is ill?" Charles's brows knitted in concern. Remy shook his head.
"Non, not ill, but…well, she hadn't been up more den t'ree days when we left, an' it been nonstop traveling since den, because I want to get home before snow close the way up nort'," Remy said. "She lost a lot of weight, an' she been extremely tired and weak. Need to see if it just de loss of weight, or if dey somet'ing else wrong wit' her."
Charles nodded. "Of course. If you have her sale paper, I'll begin the process of getting her freedom papers together." Remy pulled the crumpled, travel-stained piece of paper from the pocket of his equally crumpled, travel-stained coat and stood. "I should go get changed, den I go check on her." He nodded to Charles, and left the room.
Charles sat looking after Remy thoughtfully for a while, then got up and went looking for his coat. He wanted to go talk to Henry about their new guest before his physician son went to look at her.
Jubilee blinked as awareness returned. She was lying on something soft, and something equally soft covered her, and she was warmer than she had felt in a month. She pulled at the blanket covering her, as she nestled into the warmth, and then groaned as aches traveled up her body from her saddle sore backside and legs.
"Hey, chere," came a soft voice. Remy. She groaned, dispelling the last traces of sleep fog from her mind, and opened her eyes. "Remy?"
"Oui, chere," he responded, smiling at her gently. "We got here las' night, an' you was asleep when Remy get you off de horse. I brought you up here an' tuck you in. How you feeling?"
"Tired," she said softly. "And sore." She winced as she tried to shift her weight to sit up, and finally gave up the effort. It was easier to just lie still.
"Dere," Remy said. "Stay still. Ororo de cook, goin' to send up her boy Evan wit' a tray for you pretty soon, den Henry coming to look at you an' see if you okay. He's a doctor," he said to her reassuringly.
"Food? I'm so hungry," she said with a sigh. Remy smiled, and stood as an African boy came in with a tray and put it on the table by the bed. "Mama says to let me know if you need anything else, or if you want anything else, and I'll tell her and she'll get it," the boy announced. "Hello, Mister Remy. Glad you're home. Nice to meet you, ma'am," he said to Jubilee, hoping she would give him her name. No one knew what her name was yet; they had only heard from Jean that Remy had come home, and they had found out that the new guest was in the family wing. The boy was overwhelmed with curiosity. 'I'm Evan." He held out his hand.
Jubilee reached up and took it timidly. She was still not used to being treated like she was Remy's equal. "Jubilee," she said timidly. "Jubilee LeBeau." She was still a slave, which meant she had to use Remy's last name as her own. Remy didn't correct her, so she assumed she was all right.
"Pleased to meet you," he said happily. Now he had information to share with everyone else. "Is the breakfast satisfactory?"
Remy and Jubilee both looked at the tray. Remy saw the leftovers from a breakfast he was used to eating when he was here. Jubilee was looking at what looked to her like a feast. Eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, and even some flapjacks and fried potatoes. There were two plates heaped high, and Jubilee couldn't imagine being able to eat the half of it.
Remy nodded. "It'll do. Did de apples from de orchard start falling yet? I miss dem apples."
"Me too!" The boy looked cheerful. "Mr. Scott says they'll be ready any day now, but some of the early ones are already ripe, if you know where to look. Want me to nick you a few?"
Remy considered. "Is dat going to get you in trouble wit' Ororo?"
Evan grinned. "I'll just tell Ma it's for you. She'll be okay with that. And if it's for Jubilee, she won't mind at all."
Remy grinned back. "Okay, two apples, den, if you don' mind? Maybe if you could add some cheese wit' dat too. Still getting' dat good yellow cheese from de store in town?"
"Oh, yeah," Evan grinned. "I'll let Ma know." And he turned and disappeared.
Remy helped Jubilee up to a sitting position, and picked his own plate up, leaving the tray on her knees so she could eat. She picked up the fork, studied it. "It's silver!" she said wonderingly. "Is it allowed? Slaves aren't supposed to touch silver!"
"No slaves in Canada," Remy said rather indistinctly around a mouthful of bacon. He'd lost a little weight on the hard ride north, too. "You use what de res' of us use."
Jubilee, still staring at the silver fork, dug it into the mound of eggs in front of her, and met with a second surprise. "A china plate?" She stared at it as if afraid she was going to break it just by touching it.
Remy laughed out loud, got food down the wrong way in his throat, and choked. He spluttered for a long moment, as she looked at him, unsure what he saw funny. He finally cleared his airway enough to tell her, "S'okay. Go ahead and eat." She looked down. Really, it smelled really, good, much better than anything she'd eaten in a long time, and her stomach rumbled emptily.
She dug her fork in and started eating.
