Rose Hill, 1779
Quinn leaned forward, resting her hands and head on top of Rachel's ever growing belly. It had become their little morning ritual, and Quinn started to feel closer to the baby by doing so. The first time the baby kicked upon hearing her voice, her stomach fluttered. She never thought she would grow so fond of a tiny person she hadn't even had the chance to meet yet, but as of that moment, Quinn was thankful Rachel had convinced her they should keep the baby.
"Ouch!" Rachel whined with a cringe as Quinn felt the strongest of the kicks. "Someone's pretty excited this morning. Are you saying good morning to Quinn, baby?" she asked, lowering her voice a few tones down. Quinn's heart swelled. She couldn't wait to see what the baby would look like. To hold it in her arms.
"Have you thought of names yet?" Quinn asked, gently running her thumbs where the baby feet had last kicked. She couldn't imagine what it was like to feel those kicks from inside. It probably wasn't the most comfortable feeling, but Rachel never really complained.
"Not really," Rachel answered with eyes wide in surprise, as if she had forgotten she was supposed to do so. None of them knew for sure what a baby needed, but they were lucky enough to be surrounded by people who loved Rachel and had way more experience than they did. "Have you thought of anything?" Quinn shrugged, feeling her cheeks getting warmer. She had thought of many, although she knew it wasn't her place to do so. It wasn't her baby. "Tell me!" Rachel pushed, poking Quinn's cheek and making her giggle.
"Okay," she said shyly. "For a boy, I like Theodore, Matthew and Oliver. Oliver is my favorite, because we could call him little Ollie. I think it sounds sweet," she said with another shrug.
"I like it. I like it a lot!" Rachel said with a firm nod, placing her hand on top of Quinn's and running it along her belly. "What if it is a girl?"
"For a girl, I like Dorothy, Samantha… Georgia, because it sounds like George. I think he would like that. But when I think of it as a girl, I keep thinking-" she started, but shut her mouth. She wasn't sure how Rachel would feel about her idea, but Rachel nodded in a sign for her to go on, and she did. "I keep thinking that perhaps you should name her after your mother." Rachel's eyes pooled instantly, and Quinn immediately regretted saying so. "But it's just a stupid thought. It's your baby, you can name it whatever you want!" she said quickly, trying to fix her mistake.
"No!" Rachel shook her head, grabbing Quinn by the cheeks and bringing her closer until their foreheads rested together. "That's honestly the best thing you could have said, Quinn. I love you so much right now," she whispered, dropping a soft kiss on Quinn's lips. They pulled a part after a second, and Quinn felt almost shy for how adoringly Rachel looked at her. "Ettie. Little Henrietta. My mother would love that."
"That's a pretty name," Quinn whispered, closed up in a little world that was only theirs. "Ettie," she repeated, tasting the name on her lips.
"Do you really think so?" Rachel asked. "I want you to have a say in this. I don't want it to be my baby, Quinn. I want it to be ours. You're here for me during this whole pregnancy, and I'm sure you're gonna love this baby as much as I will. It's only fair you help me pick a name. It's yours too."
"Is it?" Quinn asked with a shaky voice. She hated letting herself be so vulnerable, but she was learning that she had nothing to fear when it came to opening up to Rachel. "But what will the baby call me?" she asked, voice filled with uncertainty. The baby certainly couldn't call her mother, or else their whole relationship would end up exposed. They were already being risky enough as it was.
"It will call you Quinn, but that doesn't change anything. The way it calls you doesn't mean anything. What matters is the relationship you two will have. I mean, you call Judy mother, but that doesn't mean what you feel for her runs deep."
"You're right," Quinn said with a nod. Rachel always managed to be right. If anyone had been a mother to her, it had been Mama Minda - and she didn't have a single droplet from the woman's blood in her veins. If Mama Minda could love her like a daughter, even more than her own mother, she definitely could do the same. She would love Rachel's baby like a mother, even if it didn't call her that way. In fact, she very likely already did. "What do you think it is, though?" Quinn asked with a small smirk. Rachel grinned.
"I don't know! We should ask it!" Rachel said, and Quinn frowned. "Baby, kick once if you're a girl and twice if you're a boy!" she said. Quinn placed her hands attentively to Rachel's belly, but nothing happened. Rachel fell in a delicious laugh, and Quinn wished she could save that moment and relive it over and over again. Everything felt in its right place. Everything felt right.
"Perhaps the baby hasn't decided yet what it's gonna be," Quinn replied with a shrug and the biggest smile hanging on her face.
"Well, while the baby decides I'm gonna go and get us breakfast," Rachel said, motioning to get up and letting out a small groan as she propped her weight in her arms. Quinn had noticed it had been harder and harder for Rachel to carry all that weight, and she knew it was time she did something about it.
"No," Quinn said, gently pulling Rachel's arm so that she would lay down on the pillows again. "Stay in here. Rest a little. I'll go ask for Lou Lee to prepare our breakfast, alright?" she said, already getting up from the bed and putting on a robe. Rachel smiled softly and nodded in relief, and Quinn left.
Rachel and that baby were hers. She always took care of what was hers.
Basseterre, 1779
"Mr. Fabray, dinner is served," said a servant appearing at the drawing room's door.
"Great! Thank you, Lucy," George replied, getting up to his feet. "Shall we feast?" he said playfully. Arabella and Quinn got up from their seats, and followed George to the dining room. Rachel walked in closely behind Quinn, and gently pulled the chair for Quinn to sit.
"Thank you," Quinn whispered with a small smile. It felt nice to be in a place where she thank Rachel without any worries or her mother's judgmental looks. Rachel nodded back with a smile and stood against the wall behind Quinn's seat.
"Rachel, please, have a seat with us," George said, sitting down and motioning to the empty chair by Quinn's side. Quinn shifted in her seat in surprise, and turned around to look back to Rachel. Rachel had her eyes wide open and shook her head quickly. Quinn didn't say anything. Rachel's eyes fluttered in Quinn's direction, waiting for a command. "Quinn, tell her to sit with us," George said. Quinn swallowed dryly. "It's alright, Quinn. Arabella knows everything and she's fine with it. There's no one else here."
George was right. It was okay. There was no one else to see them and nothing would happen. They would just have dinner as two couples. The realization that what might be stopping Quinn could be not the fear of being caught, but a fear derived from prejudice of assuming Rachel as her significant other made her shiver, and it pushed her to do something about it. She wasn't ashamed of Rachel. Rachel was beautiful, kind, took care of her more than anyone ever did, and most importantly - she loved Quinn. And Quinn was proud to call Rachel hers.
"Come here," she whispered with a smile, eyes locked with Rachel's as she pulled the chair just slightly. She didn't know why they always whispered to each other - it either could be so that they weren't heard or Quinn's way of making up for all the yelling and scolding she used to throw at Rachel's way. George smiled, and it was contagious. Arabella grinned, and Quinn smiled with a blush before realizing Rachel smiled too. Under the table, she intertwined her fingers with Rachel, and the simple brush of a thumb was the loudest thank you she had ever heard.
George didn't have any slaves. His servants were all paid for their work and they certainly didn't work as much as slaves did. Quinn watched as George stood up on his feet and served food to himself and Arabella. He handed the serving spoon to Quinn with a quirked eyebrow and she licked her lip at the realization she had never put food on to her own plate. Before she could do so, Rachel took the serving spoon and served both of them. Quinn watched everything quietly, but it was a different kind of silence. It wasn't like the silence in their meals back at Rose Hill where, without George and Russell to start conversation, Quinn and her mother dined in a thick silence that made Quinn lose appetite altogether and want to crawl back to her room. In George's house the silence was just the absence of noise as people filled their plates with a wholesome heartfelt meal, and it was comforting, somehow.
"Have you heard that Spain has declared war against England?" Arabella asked, cutting a piece of meat on her plate. George turned towards her and his mouth fell down in shock.
"Is that so? In support of America?" Quinn asked. This is the small talk she always dreamed of having. It wasn't about gentlemen or clothes or recipes - but about things that mattered in the world. She was surprised to realize Arabella had knowledge in that kind of matter - but she should have known better. George wouldn't settle for the futile girls her mother tried to force her to be friends with. Arabella nodded as she chewed on her food.
"Well, that changes everything. England is in great trouble being against France, Spain and America. I hope this means the war is getting closer to an end. I fear for aunt Angeline, all alone in America," he said with a frown as he shook his head. Quinn instinctively turned towards Rachel, to see her reaction upon hearing the name of Quinn's aunt - but Rachel seemed to not have even listened. Quinn found Rachel concentrated on using her knife to cut the meat, and realized it was probably the first time Rachel had ever eaten in a dining table like that. She wasn't used to having so many options of cutlery at her disposal, and for a first timer she was doing incredibly well. She had always been observant and a fast learner. Quinn quietly rubbed her hand on Rachel's leg to get her attention and Rachel jumped slightly in startle, before turning to Quinn with a smile.
"About that," said Arabella, placing her cutlery on the edge of her plate and turning towards George with a grin before she went on. "We have something to tell you," she said. Quinn furrowed her brows and stopped chewing her food. "Rachel isn't the only one who's pregnant at this table," she whispered, and George's smile could light up the whole town. Quinn swallowed her food all at once and felt her throat burning.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, as her hands flung to her face. "That's great news! Congratulations!" Quinn said, reaching out her hand to grab Arabella's and George's for a second. Her heart raced. She never realized she could be so happy with another people's achievements.
"It will be a pleasure to have my child growing up with yours, Mr. George," Rachel said with watery eyes. Quinn wanted to pull her closer and drop a kiss on her cheek, but having Rachel at her side at the table was enough progress for a day. She didn't need to shock her brother, especially after he had been so nice for inviting Rachel.
"I'm certain they will be great friends, Rachel." George said with a smile and a nod. "Which reminds me- Arabella will be shopping for baby clothes later this week. You can come along if you like. It will be good for her to have some company, and it's more than time I give this baby a welcoming gift!" he said. Arabella nodded enthusiastically, and Quinn realized she hadn't thought about baby clothes. She simply assumed they still had some saved from when she was a child, but now it sounded silly to even consider that. It was just too long ago. She would make sure Rachel came to town to go shopping with Arabella, and she would make sure Rachel brought the money to their baby's clothes too. Theirs.
"I'm sorry, I'm still caught up on why the subject of my future niece or nephew came directly after you mentioned aunt Angeline?" Quinn asked with a nervous smile, suddenly remembering how quickly their subject had changed.
"Oh, not aunt Angeline, but America!" Arabella said, her voice filled with a happiness that made Quinn freeze in her seat and drop her hands on her sides. She wasn't sure she had understood well. Or at least she hoped she hadn't.
"We are thinking of moving to America once the baby is born," George said, confirming Quinn's worst fears. She wouldn't do it all over again. She wouldn't brat and cry and accuse him of leaving her - but what else was he doing? He must have felt the tension growing on her body, because he quickly started explaining himself. "We think America is more progressive than Saint Kitts is right now. We want our baby to grow up to a broader range of opportunities. I know America isn't perfect, but I would rather not have my child growing up in a society that treats important matters like slavery so naturally."
"But aunt Angeline has slaves too," Quinn replied with a nervous giggle. She didn't have the courage to look at Rachel and see what she thought of all of that.
"We wouldn't be moving in with her," Arabella said with a quick shake of her head. "We're thinking something norther. Perhaps New York. It would be amazing to have our children growing up among so much culture."
"But they're in the middle of a war! That is not a place to raise a child!" said Quinn, her voice coming more high pitched than she wanted to.
"It wouldn't be so bad to have our child learning first hand how to become a revolutionary. I don't think that's a bad thing at all," George said with a shrug. "Besides, we all know that war is bound to end soon. But that's not what matters right now. What we really wanted to talk about is the possibility of having you two come along," George said, and Quinn could swear everything in front of her went black. It was a miracle that she hadn't passed out right then and there.
"George, you know I can't," Quinn said with another nervous giggle as she shook her head. "I gotta stay and take care of the farm. I don't even have a way of making money in America."
"Dear sister, don't you know me at all?" he asked with a full laughter, and Quinn cracked her fingers nervously under the table. "I have thought of everything. We can hire someone to take care of the farm and send the money back to you in New York. I know a handful of people that would gladly do so, and I trust them to manage everything wisely. Just think of how amazing it would be! You two wouldn't have to be so afraid of being caught, you could just say you were cousins or something. No one will know us. Rachel could be free! Wouldn't you like moving, Rachel?" he asked.
Quinn felt hurt that he said those things in front of Rachel. It would put her in the most difficult position, and he knew it. But nothing hurt more than seeing Rachel unable to answer his question. She didn't have to say anything. Quinn knew for a fact this would be Rachel's dream come true. Still, the fact that Rachel didn't say so only proved her loyalty to Quinn. She didn't say so, because although she dreamed of being free, she knew Quinn had always dreamed of running the farm. In that moment, love filled Quinn's heart with an intensity that almost made her drop everything she had and take her brother's offer. But her brain always pulled her back.
"I will think about it. Okay?" she said. George nodded, but only Quinn knew her words were actually directed to Rachel. If she did so, it would be for them. For Rachel, and for their baby.
Rose Hill, 1779
"Where have you been all day?" Judy asked in a growl the second they stepped inside the house. A normal question a mother would ask out of worry - but Rachel knew better. Judy was never worried about Quinn. If anything, she was just curious. But by the tone of her voice, Rachel assumed there was something else.
"I went to Basseterre, to have dinner at George's place," Quinn answered nonchalantly as she walked inside. Rachel followed her. She didn't like to intrude on Quinn's conversations with her mother - especially since they always ended up fighting, which made Rachel uncomfortable. But she had nowhere else to go, and she hadn't been dismissed by Quinn. She walked quietly, trying to make herself invisible, but she could feel Judy's eyes of hate following her.
"Why did you take her?" Judy asked.
"She's my slave. She goes wherever I go," Quinn answered with a quirked up eyebrow. Rachel tensed up. She knew those two were just starting.
"She's a house slave. There was work to be done. Did you know Lou Lee was busy all day doing your laundry? I requested an apple pie at lunch and it still isn't ready, because everyone was busy doing what your slave should be doing!" Judy sneered. Rachel didn't know how Quinn could stay so calm with such an annoying voice filling her ears.
"Yes, I'm very aware of that, mother. I asked Lou Lee to take on some of Rachel's chores, since she's so close to giving birth," Quinn explained.
"You can't do that!" Judy scoffed, incredulous. "Lou Lee isn't yours!"
"Mother," Quinn said with a giggle, sitting down behind the desk at the library and resting her head on her hands. "All slaves are mine now. This whole farm is. I can't believe you forgot that," she said, condescendingly. Judy's face just about fell into the ground, and so did Rachel's. Quinn was never the most docile with her mother, but she was never so direct either.
"Well, then perhaps we should just sell this slave of yours!" Judy said in a squeal, like she just had the most brilliant idea. Rachel hated that Judy could talk about her like that, as if she wasn't in the room too. She wanted to get out of there, but Quinn wouldn't dismiss her. Maybe Quinn needed her there for support. "Yes! We could sell her well, since she's carrying another one in her womb! She's not being useful anyway, and things are looking ugly, we simply can't afford to have a slave sitting on her ass all day."
"You wouldn't know if things were looking ugly or not, mother. You never cared enough to get into business," Quinn said, opening the newspaper between the two of them. Rachel knew Quinn had already read that newspaper. She was acting strong, but she was nervous too. Rachel could feel.
"Still!" Judy said. "There's no reason for us to keep her, she only brings us problem! I don't know why you are suddenly so protective of this whore, is not like-" she couldn't finish her sentence. Quinn cut her short, jumping to her feet and slamming both her hands against the wooden desk. Judy jumped back in surprise. So did Rachel.
"She's not a whore mother, she was raped. You are a whore," she said. Judy's face was drained of color, and she placed her hand against her chest as if it hurt too much to hear those words. Rachel wasn't sure which part of the conversation had surprised her most. She hadn't expected Quinn to stand up for her so fiercely. "Don't act like we all don't know you were never faithful to my father," she groaned, sitting back down."
"Oh, because you're hero father was just always so perfect and-" Judy said, but Quinn cut her short again. Rachel could see Judy's blood boiling beneath her skin.
"Mother, I don't have the time to discuss what an awful and sick relationship you two had," Quinn said. Rachel was still taken back in surprise. She had always knew the Fabrays were good actors, but seeing the amount of tears Judy shed at Russell's death - she could never have imagined it. She hadn't ever even heard rumors about Judy. But perhaps it was just one more of the so many forbidden subjects that household held. "Rachel's staying for good. I'm deciding what chores my slaves will do. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things more important to do than to just listen to your bullshit," she said in a groan, getting up to leave the room and nodding for Rachel to follow her.
Rachel knew well what it meant. Quinn wasn't the one to curse - she only did so when her anger was at the top of her limits. And Rachel knew well how she liked to be calmed down.
Quinn laid her head back on the cold porcelain of the bathtub while Rachel massaged her scalp with the tip of her fingers, feeling the sweet smell of raspberry filling the room. Quinn closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
"Thank you for defending me," Rachel said in an almost whisper. Quinn felt a shiver running through her still sensitive body. Rachel's words were soft like a hug and the contrast with the words she had just heard, while they were locked alone in her room, was just one of her many favorite things about Rachel.
"She's ridiculous," Quinn rumbled. "It really makes me think harder about George's offer. I wouldn't mind at all to be an ocean away from her," she said. Rachel didn't say anything. It only made Quinn realize how much she wanted to move, too. Rachel talked a lot, but she wasn't precisely vocal about the things she wanted - well, not unless they were in bed.
"I had no idea she cheated on your father," Rachel said. Quinn nodded silently. It took a while for Quinn, at the age of six, to connect the dots and understand why her mother's friends only came to the house while her father was traveling. She had never talked about that with anyone. It was perhaps one of her greatest sources of insecurity growing up. If her father, who had always been perfect on her eyes, wasn't enough for her mother - how could she ever be?
"There's a lot you still don't know. This whole farm is stained with the worst stories," Quinn said with a sigh, lowering herself deeper into the water, as if it could wash away her memories. "I mean, my father wasn't an angel, but next to her…" she trailed off, shaking her head.
"She was right about one thing, though," Rachel said, and Quinn furrowed her brows.
"What?" Quinn asked, turning around to be able to see Rachel's face.
"I am being useless," Rachel said, and Quinn immediately started shaking her head. "No, I really am. It's been bothering me, too. I don't think it's fair to the other slaves, but most of all, I hate doing nothing all day!"
"What do you mean doing nothing?" Quinn asked with a smile. "You're helping me. You're giving me a bath right now!"
"Yes, but still! I feel anxious just sitting around all day while you work. It doesn't feel right. I'm feeling perfectly fine, there's no reason to have other people taking care of your laundry!" Rachel said. Quinn could almost swear she heard a hint of jealousy in Rachel's voice, and giggled to herself. "I'm serious!"
"I know you are! Sorry, dear," Quinn bit her lip to suppress her smile, and leaned forward to drop a peck on Rachel's lips. Water slipped from her hair and left a wet spot on Rachel's apron, but none of them cared enough to mention it. "I will talk to George and see what he thinks of it, alright? I'll try to find something for you to do during the day that won't tire you and that won't be prejudicial to the baby," Quinn said.
"Thank you," Rachel said with a shy smile that just made Quinn want to pull her closer to another kiss.
"Rachel, have you ever bathed in a tub?" Quinn asked. She often forgot Rachel hadn't grown up with the same privileges as her, and she damned herself every time she realized the so many things Rachel still did as a slave although she didn't have to. She didn't have to keep showering with bucket, and Quinn couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. Rachel shook her head shyly, answering her question. "Well, would you like to join me?"
She didn't have to ask twice.