Chapter 6: On an imaginary journey together

Charlotte was seated by the desk in her room attempting to write a letter. She had dipped the quill in ink, but it remained hovering in the air above the paper, whilst her gaze was fixed at a point far away.

She was thinking about her husband.

The last days had been so confusing and she was not sure what to make of it all. Being in Sidney Parker's proximity evoked feelings in her which she never had experienced before, ranging from fury to something undefinable. Recently, he had efficiently suffocated the anger she initially felt towards him and the unfairness of the situation, by showing her nothing but kindness. The generous gifts that seemed to be given without ulterior motive were delightful, but even more she appreciated their conversations and that he always seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. Also, the concern he showed when she spoke of her family and his offer to both go visit them and support them financially had touched her deeply.

Most confusing of all had been when he kneeled beside her by the dining table and first took her hand, then wiped away her tears, only to abruptly back away from her when he became aware of what he was doing. Before that, she had feared any physical contact with him but in that moment she discovered she did not wish for him to distance himself. When he stroked her cheek, she was so close to lean into his palm because the unexpected touch was so comforting. How fortunate that he moved away before she did so, preventing her from making a fool of herself.

He had spent more time with her after that. They had dined together the past few evenings and yesterday he had come looking for her when he returned home in the afternoon.

He had found her in the library, the room where she spent most of her time when he was away. Knowing that the servants were unlikely to come in there, she had been lying reading on the floor because the large book was too heavy to hold comfortably. Propped up on her elbows, she had stretched out on her stomach, taken off her shoes and let her stocking clad legs leisurely swing, lost in daydreams.

He announced his presence by a soft knock. When she startled looked up, he was leaning against the doorframe with an amused expression and she was, as happened sometimes, overwhelmed by his handsomeness. She had not seen much of the London high society men yet, so she could only compare to the men in Willingden and she had never seen anyone quite like him. He always appeared so confident and contained, except for the few occasions when she had made him lose his temper or show compassion. His chiselled features, combined with the dark hair and eyes would have made him seem slightly dangerous, had it not been for the contrasting full lips and his brown eyes when they sometimes shifted from piercing to soft. He was also very fashionable, so it was no wonder that he wished for her to match him better in that aspect. Like now, when his perfectly tailored waist-coat and breeches clung to his body, showing that it was as well-toned as that of the hard-working men at her father's estate. She had never been curious about any of them but found that she now was curious about him. How come he looked like that, only leans muscles, despite a life-style she imagined contained far more leisure than labour?

All in all, she could see that he must appeal to many women, so it seemed so strange he would choose to marry one which he did not desire, as he had made clear was the case to Lord Babington, and one who certainly felt nothing for him.

She wondered how long he had been standing watching her, embarrassed over her own unladylike behaviour. She saw his eyes travel down her body and register the dress that had slipped down her angled legs to fall around her knees and now showed more than was appropriate. She was about to sit up and adjust her skirts, when he stopped her.

"Don't let me interrupt you."

To her surprise, he sauntered over and laid down beside her, though at an appropriate distance so their bodies did not touch. She could still feel him though. Even if she had closed her eyes she would have known he was there, from the body heat emanating from him and the pleasant whiff of cologne, a musky and citrusy scent. She liked it so much she had to stop herself from inhaling noticeably deeply and she moved and inch in the other direction.

"What is this big book of yours?" He took a closer look. "An atlas?"

He seemed surprised to find she was looking at a map.

"Yes."

"Why are you looking in an atlas?" He sounded curious, not condescending.

"You will think me silly."

"I doubt that."

"I am traveling." She admitted bashfully. "In my imagination."

"Away from this house, from me?" He almost sounded hurt.

"Yes. Or no, not like that. This is something I always have done, when I lived in Willingden too."

"Please share with me."

She still felt a bit silly but did as he requested as there was no mockery to be detected in his voice.

"I have always been curious about other places, read about far away countries, towns, the people there. I know that I likely never will see them, but I like to look at the maps and pretend I am on a journey."

She flipped to a page with a map of England and pointed to a spot on the map where there was nothing.

"Somewhere around here is Willingden. Not even significant enough to be included on the map. Now I have travelled from there... to here."

She let her finger draw a line to London.

"What I have seen so far was nothing like I expected, but I can at least not complain about not having an adventure."

She gave him a week smile and got one in return.

"And then, when I look at all the maps, I realise what an infinitesimal part of the world I have seen and..."

"And?"

"I would still like to see more, experience more, have more adventure in my life, but perhaps I would be wise to have that from books rather than real life. I guess one should be careful what one wishes for."

"Maybe, but you should not let one bad experience deter you and you have not even seen that much of London yet. Perhaps you will learn to appreciate it."

Their eyes met briefly, and she wondered about the hopeful look in his. Why did it matter to him if she liked London? Why did it matter to her that he seemed to want her to like it?

He reached out his hand and turned the pages.

"I lived here for many years."

He pointed at an island in a string of islands in a sea, far, far away.

"Antigua? In the West Indies?"

"Yes."

"How come?"

He made a grimace like he had not anticipated that question and was not sure if he wanted to answer, but in the end chose to.

"I tried to escape I guess."

"From what?"

Up to now he had given away almost nothing of his past and her curiosity peaked. There was a pause when he seemed to deliberate internally as to how much he should expose, but finally he answered.

"When I was young, almost ten years ago, I was engaged to be married. She broke off our engagement to marry an older and wealthier man."

She listened, unconsciously twiddling her own wedding ring. Was this the reason why he had been determined never to wed? The reason why he knew he would never fall in love again?

"So you decided to go away?"

"Not at first. I didn't handle it well though. I began drinking heavily and was well on my way to ruining myself."

Even if she had not known him then, it pained her to hear it. He must have been very much in love.

"My brother Tom finally intervened. He forced me to sober up and arranged for me to get away for some time to try to sort myself out. That was how I came to live in Antigua."

"I am sorry to hear it. It must have been hard for you to be so far away from home."

"Not really. Breaking the engagement was hard, going away was a relief."

"And you stayed away for long?"

"Eight years, so I have only been back here in England for three years."

"Is Antigua where you built your fortune then?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I am ashamed how part of it came to be.

"How come?"

"How much do you know of Antigua, Charlotte?"

"Not much. It is a British colony."

"Then you know about as much as I did when my ship set sail there. I was still a naive young man and I was to discover that Antigua is both the most beautiful and the most horrendous place on Earth."

"Please, tell me more."

She found herself mesmerized both by his deep voice and his tale. A tale of how a young heartbroken English gentleman had met a harsh reality and grown into the man he now was. She had to know more.

"At first sight, Antigua was more wonderful than any place I ever had seen even in my wildest dreams. The colours of the nature are like the colours here at home hundred fold; the insanely green vegetation, the turquoise of the sea, flowers, birds and butterflies sparkling like the rainbow. Exotic fruits like pineapple, oranges and bananas grow anywhere and taste sweeter than anything we know here."

She loved the picture he was painting and wanted to see it, smell it, taste it for real. No one had tasted a pineapple in Willingden.

"It sounds wonderful."

"It is, but... after some time the heat becomes oppressive, the many mosquitos bites infected and there are illnesses we never even heard of, but worst of all are we."

"Us?"

"Not you Charlotte", he bestowed her a sad but fond smile, like she was the last person he had been thinking of. "The Brits. White men. Greedy men who exploit other humans to get rich. Men like me."

"How do you mean? You seem to be a decent man from what I have seen."

He snorted.

"I would like to think so. I try to lead my life honourably, make the right choices but there are things in my past I am ashamed of. When I did not take a stand and do the noble thing as soon as I should have."

"And what was that 'noble thing' which you did not do?"

There was a moment of silence before he answered. His eyes seemed more intense than before and she was aware of their shoulders briefly brushing against one another.

"Stand up against slavery. It took too long before I did."

She stared at him. She was not sure what she had expected but not this. Slavery. It was something she had read about and found abominable, but which had seemed as distant as… well, as distant as Antigua. Now he had brought into the room.

"Won't you tell me?"

He sat up.

"I shouldn't have told you in the first place."

"But you did. Perhaps because you actually need to talk about it? It seems to still be troubling you."

"It doesn't mean I should burden you with it."

"Then who? I am your wife even if only to the name. I could be your friend, your support, if you let me?"

The look of disbelief on his face made him seem more vulnerable than before and stirred something in her, strengthening her wish to share what seemed to burden him. She put her hand on top of his.

"Let me be that in return for what you have done for me. I am not so fragile as you seem to believe."

He seemed to take in what she said and made a decision.

"No perhaps you are not."

He withdrew his hand, leaving her feeling slightly foolish for the spontaneous touch, and moved to sit with his back leaning against the wall. She sat up too, without letting go of his gaze, willing him to speak. He shook his head as if he could not believe he was doing this.

"Be warned that this is against my better judgement, this story is unsuitable for sharing with a lady."

"You know I have already seen things that are far from suitable for a lady and survived them, so..."

She pursed her mouth and he chuckled.

"That is true, well then. When I first arrived, Tom had arranged for me to stay with and work for a business acquaintance of his, a Mr. Archibald Harris. He had a house in St John's, the harbour town and capital of Antigua, and he also owned a plantation a few hours ride away. Upon our first acquaintance he seemed like a good man to me, like most other Englishmen there. With time, I learned there was a monster underneath his respectable exterior."

Appalled and fascinated Charlotte listened as Sidney's story unfolded.

During the first few months he had remained with Mr. Harris and his family in St. John's. His wife was one of quite few females who had joined their husbands on the long journey there and it was a comfortable home Sidney was a guest in. He soon learned that most Brits made their money from the sugar trade. Sugar cane was the main crop on the island and if one wanted to make money here, buying your own plantation or becoming an investor in someone else's was the way to make a fortune.

"I was looking to invest my rather modest inheritance to make it grow. I wanted to return to England a wealthier man than when I left."

She heard a hint of self-loathing in his voice and instinctively knew he had wanted to prove himself to the woman who jilted him.

"Harris did not need an investor in his own plantation as it was thriving already, but he advised me to approach a Mr. Lambe whom he had heard was looking for a partner. Mr. Lambe lived at his plantation, located even further away than Harris' plantation, but letters were sent and after some time the deal was agreed and it was decided that I would come and visit him there to inspect my investment, after first joining Harris to visit his plantation and oversee the activities there."

As he said this, Sidney's face contorted in disgust.

"Coming to Harris plantation, was like coming to hell. Not at first sight but when I realised how everything worked out there. I had heard of slave labour, but never realised… there was not as much talk of it here at home at that time, people did not know, and even in St. John's people did not talk about what was truly going on at the plantations. The slaves were treated like animals…"

He turned to her and she saw that his eyes were glazed with tears.

"Worse than animals… They had no rights, no life. They worked until they could not stand up and then they were whipped to do some more, normally by the foreman but now when Harris was there he gladly whipped the "lazy" ones himself. They had too little to eat, no one treated them when they were ill because they were replaceable. Families were not allowed to live together, children were taken away from their parents as soon as they could work, women forced to…" He swallowed the words he had been close to saying and rephrased. "…to do the things you nearly had to do in the brothel. By their white masters. I saw so many children which were mulattoes. I do not know how many of them were Harris', but some of them were. Yet they were nothing to him but more free labour. It was sickening, but most sickening was that I did not say anything. refrained when he offered me to try the whip or to have some company in my bed at night, but I did not tell him how despicable I found it. Everyone thought it normal and justified, so who was I to come and question a well-functioning system that provided money in my fellow countrymen's pockets and sugar in our tea?"

Charlotte realised she had clenched her fists so hard her nails made marks in her palms. Were these women which he had not been able to save, the reason why he had wanted to save her from a similar fate?

"How could you stand it? To stay so long then?"

"I wanted to flee head over heels, but I had already invested my money in Lambe's plantation and arranged to go see it, so I had no choice. I went there with the resolve to withdraw my investment and return home. Luckily it turned out he was a different man altogether.

Lambe's planation was a much larger one than the one Harris had, and it had been thriving for many years. It turned out that the reason that he needed another investor was because he had freed all his slaves. From the first day when he bought the plantation, he had strived to improve his slaves' conditions and a few years ago he had set them all free. The majority of them had stayed as workers, knowing they were safe here.

Mr. Lambe turned out to be the most amazing man. The reason he always stayed at his plantation was that he could not stand most of his fellow countrymen and the way they treated the black. He regarded all humans the same regardless of skin colour and had gone as far as marrying a black woman, without caring for what others thought. I thought it was beautiful. They loved each other and had a daughter together, who was brought up as a lady and he intended for her to inherit his fortune one day.

Lambe became my role model and mentor and I came to stay with him for seven years. As this plantation was located so distantly, it took long before rumours n reached St. John's about how he managed the estate and that he had wed a black woman, but eventually it did. I once travelled there and happened to meet Mr. Harris. He joked derogatory how he had heard what kind of a man Lambe was, taking a slave as his lawful wife and questioned how could I remain partner with him. Then I finally lost it and punched him, so he went unconscious. After that I seldom returned to St. John's. The plantation continued to be very successful and in time it made me a rich man. Eventually I missed home and my family and decided to return to England. I will forever feel I should have done more. Spoke up more or floored all the Harrises of Antigua, taken all my money and paid for slaves to be free. I do support the abolitionist movement financially, but I still feel what I have done is too little."

He finally paused with an astonished expression, as if the words unintentionally had poured out of him.

"You should not be so harsh on yourself. Such a fight cannot be won by one single man, only by many people returning home and telling about the atrocities, so public opinion is awakened, and people turn against it. That is what is happening now, is it not?"

"Perhaps you are right, but I wish I could have done more and sooner, made more of a difference. Even if my fortune comes from a plantation where conditions were good, I still feel guilt and I don't think I will ever forgive myself for staying silent when I visited Harris plantation. It was simply coward."

"All of us make mistakes. It is how we try to rectify them that determines if we are good or bad. In my book you are a good man Sidney Parker."

His pensive frown changed into a smile.

"I never expected to have such a wise wife. Thank you - for listening, for making me feel a little less like a scoundrel."

They held each other's gaze in silence for a while.

"Speaking of doing the right thing, have you written to your family yet?"

"I have, only throw it in the bin", she admitted.

"Charlotte, please just do it. You know you must. They must be impatient to receive news from you and the longer you wait, the harder it will be. Will you promise me?"

"I promise", she had answered solemnly.

"And now, to cheer us both up, will you please bring me on one of those imaginary journeys of yours? Where are we going?"

She giggled.

"I was thinking about China. To see those little silk worms and where they grow the tea and to visit the Emperor in the Forbidden city."

"Then off to China we are. How will we get there?"

"On a ship of course. Then perhaps riding camels at some point? I would like that very much."

He threw his head back in laughter and she had felt happy that she seemed able to relieve his sorrows for a little while. His story had been horrible, but she was grateful he had trusted her enough to share it.

-o-

Sidney's eyes had been filled with true concern when he urged her to write to her family and so now she sat here, bewildered as to what she should write. The letter to her parents was already finished, the one with the lie about finding unexpected love and elopement. Surprisingly, the one to Alison where she intended to tell the truth had proven more difficult. Telling the ghastly part about the brothel was easy enough, but then she got stuck. She had intended to write how horrible her life had turned out, forced into marriage with a man she did not love. It was just that the more she learned to know her husband, the less certain she was that it was such a terrible thing after all. She simply did not know what to think or feel anymore.

A/N: First of all, thank you once more for all the lovely feedback, you really make my day. Regarding this chapter, I need to point out that what I write about Antigua here is mostly made up because a quick google research did not provide much answer about how the Brits lived in this colony back in the days.

Also, hope the slow-burn is not too frustrating, but to me it would not be believable if they fell into each other's arms now. Both are cautious in many ways; because of the past, how they met, not knowing each other's character fully, plus both are very uncertain the other's (and own) feelings.