“Taunted!” He closed the space between us with a single stride. “You are out of your mind, girl! You have nothing to be ashamed of—and courage any man would be proud to own! I said that two women had had the courage to free me of the net Victorine tried to weave. One was Mrs. Beall—the other was you, Tamaris!”
I could not escape him, his strength held me prisoner. Just as his lips were first gentle on my bruised cheek, and then demanding, hotly demanding on my own. The will which had sustained me melted—was gone—
“Tamaris!” Alain's voice sounded sharp with fear as the room whirled around me. Then I was on a settee with his arms still supporting me.
“I am so tired—” But I found a second later the strength as well as the need to ask, “Did you mean what you said?”
“I shall never tell you anything but the truth, Tamaris.”
He said that as if repeating a vow. Once more I felt as I had for those very fleeting moments when I had first awakened, that all the burdens of life had been lifted from me, that I was light and free. Light and free and happy—with a happiness which swept in and in, to fill empty places I had not known existed.
We were married the next day, with the Collmers attending us. I did not return to San Francisco, but rather remained quietly at Collmer House while Alain went back and forth, settling his affairs. For he now decided on a long-considered plan, to transfer the headquarters of his business to the East for some years.
Fenton came to me and with her Amélie, whom he had promised to provide for. The girl had no desire to return either to the islands of her birth or to France. As she was so skilled a dressmaker, Alain set her up in her own business.
But that I return to a city so full of evil memories for me he sternly forbade. Nor did I hear again from Mrs. Pleasant, that enigmatic “power.” Perhaps she thought of me as one to be written off on the “loss” side of her ledger, or perhaps she had always been strictly honest in her desire to help me. I shall never know, nor do I want to ask.
At the end of the month we were again on a train, this time eastward bound. And Alain found a house of cool and gentle peace for us in the country along the Hudson.
There is no red velvet, no gilt, no marble. Most of Alain's fashionable acquaintances would deem it sadly old-fashioned. I love it.
Now I watch through the window for the return of Alain—and happiness. Perhaps our love will not always be the same, this first wild rapture will be tamed into a steady content. But there will always be Alain. And I want no more.
A HISTORIC
NOTE ON
“MAMMY” PLEASANT
Mary Ellen Pleasant was one of those individuals whose lives are so filled with the unbelievable that no novelist would dare to create them. Born in slavery of a quadroon mother who was also an acknowledged voodoo priestess, she determined early not only to release herself from bondage, but also to obtain power over the race owning hers.
In childhood she was purchased and sent north, her race concealed, to be given a good education. On the death of her master, still without realization of her servitude by those now her guardians, she was taken to New England and “bound out” to one of those intrepid women who, as the wives of whalers, kept businesses of their own during the long absences of their seagoing husbands.
Both in the store and the household Mary Ellen proved herself indispensable and earned the goodwill and affection of her mistress's daughter, the wife of a sea captain. On the death of her mistress she went to the daughter's household, where she was received not as a servant, but as a good friend. It was there that she became active in the “underground railway” of the abolitionist movement.
Rising high in their councils, she met and married James Smith, a planter from what is now West Virginia. Abhorring slavery, Smith had freed his own people and was very active in aiding others to escape. Upon Smith's death Mary Ellen devoted nearly all the estate he had left her to further this cause. It was during this period that she also married secretly John Pleasant, the octoroon overseer her husband had greatly trusted. But the marriage did not endure long and John Pleasant went to California in the days of the Gold Rush.
Mary Ellen remained in the East. Using various disguises, she ranged through the South, exhorting slaves to escape, providing them with the means. She was an inspired cook and, her racial mixture being unknown, she went from one wealthy employer to the next. In New Orleans, seeking a new way of concealing her purposes and overawing those with whom she dealt (so she might not fear betrayal), she turned to voodoo, learning some of the techniques of the great “queen,” Marie Laveau.
Suspicion arose, however, and Mary Ellen was forced to leave New Orleans in haste, choosing a vessel bound around the Horn for California. During the voyage this ship took on more passengers in Chile, among them Thomas Bell. With her gift for recognizing the potential of those she could use, Mary Ellen made Bell her lover and by the time they reached San Francisco he was well under her influence.
As an expert cook, Mary Ellen found her ability brought her an offer of five hundred dollars a month to manage one of the famed boardinghouses which had been early established by the homeless but wealthy and lucky gold seekers. To Bell she passed along not only funds for speculation, but stock tips, becoming his silent partner, greatly to their mutual benefit.
For the blacks in California she was not only a “voodoo queen” of unlimited power, but a benefactress. She used a loophole in the local law to prevent some being unwillingly returned to the South and hired those who were free, setting them up in business. In a short time she had a laundry, a saloon, livery stables, all staffed by those who had good reason to be grateful to her.
When she heard of the activities of John Brown in the East, Mary Ellen returned, carrying over ten thousand dollars to further his cause. Arriving too late to aid Brown, she remained. The actions of the next year or so are deeply veiled in mystery. There are stories that Mary Ellen, disguised as a man, journeyed through the South trying to spark a slave uprising. Whatever her efforts, they came to nothing, and she went back to California.
During the Civil War she contributed heavily to the Union cause. But in secret she began to lay the foundations for her own web of power which, in time, was to reach clear to the governor's office.
From houses of ill fame she carefully selected new arrivals who, she believed, had the appearance and manner of respectable girls. These, all of the white race, she had educated and trained in the manners of society. Some made “good” marriages engineered by her. Others became the mistresses of influential men. In addition she hired newly freed slaves, and, through an informal employment service, placed them in hotels, restaurants, private homes, as servants, to be her eyes and ears.
Her stock assets continued to grow. Bell became one of the highly respected men of business without the general knowledge that there was behind him one of the most remarkable women of her generation.
Outwardly Mary Ellen remained an upper servant, housekeeper for a time to a millionaire. She dressed in an old-fashioned style, made no show of either her power or wealth.
If she used blackmail and bribery to gain her ends, as was hinted, it was done so astutely there was no proof. To many her known kindnesses and charities ranked her close to a legendary saint. But rumor continued to whisper darker things of her.
At last she invested a huge part of her fortune in the building of the famous “mystery house” with its many secret passages, overwhelming luxury, and imported furnishings. This became the home of Thomas Bell and in it he was to die an unexplained and suspicious death. Though Mary Ellen had fitted up a suite therein for herself, she apparently never occupied it. Bell's wife, one of Mary Ellen's protégées, was the only mistress under its roof.
No one knows what became of Mary Ellen's great wealth. After she made the fatal mistake of trying to force her way, through blackmail, into San Francisco society, her power, even over those beholden to her, began to decline. Times were changing and San Francisco
society wanted to forget the gaudy patches in its past.
She died in surroundings of poverty, an enigma still, the tangled intrigue behind her acts never explained or more than guessed at. But in the sixties, seventies, and eighties of the past century she ruled much of San Francisco from the shadows.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1977 by Andre Norton
ISBN: 978-1-4976-5696-3
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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Andre Norton, Velvet Shadows
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