“Times are changing, aren’t they?” Raimond replied. “Again, what brings you to New Orleans?”
“Damn Yankees took the Fontaine land, but I heard Louisiana has lots of land for sale, so I took the loyalty oath and bought me some. Looking to hire me some of your kind to help plant and harvest.” His eyes traveled over Sable. “You always were a beautiful woman.”
Ignoring the compliment, she asked, “Whatever happened to Mavis?”
“Married a Yankee soldier from Illinois. Sally Ann disowned her so fast it made my head spin, but Sally did the right thing.”
“And where is Sally Ann?”
“At the house. We’re married now, you know.”
Sable glanced at the young quadroon who’d entered on his arm. She was looking over some expensive fabrics. Morse followed Sable’s gaze. “She’s just keeping me company until I get back to Sally Ann. You know I always had a weakness for golden meat.”
Raimond’s voice turned hard. “This reunion is over, Morse. Stay clear of my wife and you’ll live a long life.”
“You threatening me, boy?”
Raimond’s smile did not reach his eyes. “No, Morse, that’s a promise.”
Morse appeared to swallow whatever invectives he was about to spill, then said unctuously, “Nice seeing you again, Sable. Maybe you can come up and visit me and Sally Ann sometime soon.”
When Sable didn’t reply, he nodded, smiled, and returned to his quadroon paramour.
Raimond watched him for a moment before saying, “He’s going to be trouble, I can feel it.”
Sable could too, but she refused to let his surprising reappearance cast a pall over what had been a wonderful afternoon with the man she loved. Putting aside all thoughts of Morse, she asked, “So, have I been good enough to earn that reward you promised?”
Her question chased away the dangerous clouds Raimond sensed building up inside himself. “Well, I don’t know. Let’s go over and settle into our suite at Archer’s hotel and and we’ll see.”
Chapter 15
They spent the remainder of their holiday in a beautiful hotel suite making love, eating the gastronomical delights prepared by Archer’s chefs, and never straying far from bed. Raimond sensed danger on the horizon and so kept Sable near, as if his arms alone would keep her safe. When the time came to return home, they were both a bit sad, but they’d had a wonderful time, and Fate willing, they would again.
They stopped at Juliana’s to pick up Cullen and the girls before heading home. After parking the carriage out front, they started up the walk. Blythe came barreling out of the house like a miniature train and just about knocked Raimond down with her happy greeting. Hazel stood on the porch smiling with Drake at her side. They found Cullen inside, playing backgammon with Henri, while Juliana sat nearby offering encouragement. The rest of the Brats were also in attendance, as was the custom on Sundays after church.
After dinner, Raimond took his brothers into the study and told them about Morse and his connection with Sable.
Phillipe asked, “Do you think he means to harm her?”
“I think he means to have her, which is the same thing as far as I’m concerned. I haven’t told Sable yet, but I’m going to Mobile next week for a convention. I’m counting on you Brats to keep my lady safe until my return.”
Archer drawled, “If he knows our family at all, you’d think Morse would rather dine with the devil than accost Sable.”
“He’ll be dining there permanently if he does,” Drake promised.
Raimond inclined his head. “I’m glad to hear we’re of like minds.”
Beau asked, “What’s this Reb look like?”
Raimond began to describe Morse but paused when someone knocked on the study door. Phillipe went to answer it and found Cullen standing there.
“May I come in?”
Phillipe looked to Raimond, who said, “Yes. I should have included you from the start. My apologies.”
Cullen entered and took a seat. Raimond told him of his concerns for Sable’s safety, then once again described Morse.
Cullen said, “Before you leave for Mobile, sir, I wish to be trained with a firearm.”
Surprise etched the faces of all but Raimond; he knew how seriously Cullen took his responsibilities, and besides, the times being so volatile, every member of the race must be able to defend hearth and home. “We’ll begin your training this evening once we reach home.”
“Thank you.”
While the brothers and Cullen continued to discuss the situation, Juliana took the girls into the solarium to repot one of her more precious plants, leaving Sable alone with Henri.
She told him, “Juliana says you may be leaving us after the new year.”
“I am considering it. I see nothing but blood on the horizon for the race in this country. I only wish…”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Sable peered closely at him. “What were you going to say, Henri?”
He offered her a wistful smile. “Nothing. It is better left unsaid.”
“Are you in love with Juliana?”
A furrow appeared between his brows. “How did you know?”
“I see it in your eyes whenever she enters a room. She loves you too, you know.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said.
“Yes, I see it in her eyes when she’s around you too. But Raimond and I both agree she will not act upon it because she believes it will desecrate François’s memory.”
Henri searched her face. “You wouldn’t jest with a man my age, would you?”
“No, Henri. She truly does love you.”
He passed his hands over his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “Are you certain?”
“Absolutely.”
He came over and kissed her on the cheek. “Sable, you have just made me the happiest man in the world. I too have been wrestling with the ghost of François LeVeq. I realized I loved her about six months after François’s death, but I would have been a cad to approach her with my feelings. She was still in mourning.”
“She may still mourn his memory, but we who are left behind must go on.”
Her words brought to mind her own struggle to go on after Mahti’s death. She’d thought the ache in her heart would never ease, but over time it had. The sorrow would walk with her always, but it no longer dogged her every thought. She gave credit for her healing to the new path opened to her by the Fates and the Old Queens, and to her love for Raimond.
Henri asked, “Do you think I should tell Ana how I feel?”
“Yes, I do. Who knows, maybe it is what she has been waiting for.”
Henri seemed to consider that, then said, “You are a wise and observant woman, Sable. I hope Raimond is aware of how precious you are.”
As if on cue, trailed by his brothers and Cullen, Raimond entered the room. He said, “Of course I know how precious she is, Henri.”
As she smiled up at her handsome husband, Sable realized Raimond had never declared his love for her. She doubted she’d ever hear him say the three words that were the key to a woman’s heart, but she knew he cared for her more deeply than she’d once thought possible, and with that she was content.
Henri looked around at Juliana’s sons and announced, “Well, lads, I’ve decided to propose to your mother. Any objections?”
In the stunned silence that followed one could almost sense the men holding their collective breath. Finally Drake said, “Repeat that, please.”
“You heard me the first time, Drake. If you have thoughts on the matter, let’s hear them.”
Phillipe asked, “Isn’t this kind of sudden, Henri?”
Archer grinned. “Personally, I believe it’s about time. Papa has been dead many years, and memories will not keep the lovely Juliana warm on a cold night.”
“Show some respect, Archer,” Phillipe snapped. “This is our mother you’re talking about.”
“Oh, for h
eaven’s sake,” Archer countered, “Mama is a living, breathing, feeling woman. She doesn’t need her baby Phillipe pretending he was born by immaculate conception.”
“I resent that!”
Drake laughed. “I agree with Archer. Mama has lit candles to Father’s memory long enough. You have my approval, Henri.”
“And mine,” Beau declared.
Last, Henri turned to Raimond. “You are Ana’s eldest. Do I have your blessing?”
“I would be honored to have you as grandpére to my children.”
Henri smiled and directed his attention back to the sullen-faced Phillipe. “Well?”
Phillipe said, “You know I wish you all the happiness life can hold. Go ahead and marry her. You have my approval as well.”
As Sable watched Henri embrace each of Juliana’s sons, she felt tears brimming in her eyes. The ever-watchful Cullen came over to her and asked, “Are you sad?”
She dashed away the tears. “No, these are happy tears.”
When Juliana and the girls returned from the solarium, Juliana said, “Hazel has a real affinity for horticulture, Raimond. She’s wonderful with the plants. Blythe, on the other hand”—she gestured to her dirt-covered youngest granddaughter—“has an affinity for soil.”
Blythe grinned.
Everyone laughed.
Cullen said, “Grandmére, Mr. Vincent wants to ask you something.”
Sable countered, “Cullen, that is a private matter.”
Raimond cut him a look. “Yes, it is, Cullen.”
By this time Juliana appeared confused. “What private matter? Henri?”
Henri looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I had not planned on its being a public affair, but Cullen seems to have let the cat out of the bag.” He too cut Cullen a pointed look.
Juliana demanded, “Well, someone tell me something!”
Henri walked over to Juliana and dropped to one knee.
Her eyes widened, and she asked in a quiet, trembling voice, “Henri, what are you doing?”
“Proposing. I wish for you to be my wife, Ana.”
For a moment she searched his face. Everyone in the room could see the tears in her eyes. “Oh my,” she whispered.
Juliana looked then at her sons and saw that all five were watching her with smiles on their faces. “Oh, my,” she whispered again.
Henri said, “Ana, I’m an old man. My knee won’t hold out forever.”
“Henri, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes, Mama,” Raimond coaxed. “Treat yourself to some happiness.”
She brought a hand to her mouth.
“I would never seek to replace François in your life. We both loved him,” Henri said genuinely, “but it is time for us now, before it is too late.”
She looked at her sons again.
“Don’t look to us,” Drake told her. “Answer the man.”
After a few more moments Juliana LeVeq finally gave the answer they’d all been waiting to hear. “Yes, Henri. I would be honored to be your wife.”
Applause and cheers filled the room.
The small, quiet wedding took place the very next day, with only the family on hand to witness the happy event. All five sons gave their mother away.
Sable sat on their bed watching her husband pack his valise for the trip to Mobile. The convention would convene in a few days and he would be gone for at least a week. They’d discussed his concerns about Morse, and Sable had agreed she would be on the alert for any trouble, even though they hadn’t had any contact with Morse since that day in the dress shop.
Her chief concern lay with Raimond’s safety. Convention delegates were prime targets for retribution. Some of the men who’d attended Louisiana’s Radical Convention last month had returned home to find their houses and businesses burned to the ground.
“You will be careful, won’t you, my knight?”
“Yes, I will. I’ve no desire to return to you in a pine box.”
“Good.”
“I will also say hello to Andre Renaud for you.”
Sable brightened. “My goodness, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while. How is your efficient aide doing these days?”
“He’s fine, last I heard. When I came home in July he opted to stay in the Sea Islands. According to his last letter, he’s now a Republican organizer, traveling all over the South.”
“He’ll be in Mobile too?”
“Yes. It will be good to see him again.”
“Well, be sure and tell him I said hello.”
“I’ll do that.”
Sable walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist. “I will miss you.”
He brought her around and held her tight, then kissed the top of her head. “I’ll miss you too, so keep yourself and our child safe.”
“I promise.”
She walked with him down the stairs. He said good-bye to the children, reminded Cullen to take care of the household, then went outside to where Archer and his coach were waiting to drive him to the train station.
The night after Raimond’s departure someone torched the small schoolhouse Drake had built on the orphanage’s property, and it burned to the ground. Combing through the rubble the next morning, Sable and the Brats found nothing salvageable. All the books, slates, desks—everything was gone. Two of the staff members quit on the spot. Sable tried hard to convince them to stay, but they refused. She couldn’t really blame them; the idea of such violence coming so close to them chilled her soul. The orphans were understandably upset and many cried when she left them at the house, but she had to file a report with the local authorities. She promised the children she would return as soon as possible.
The local sheriff had once been a Confederate cavalry officer. After taking the loyalty oath he’d been pardoned and appointed sheriff by the town fathers. He’d shown little sympathy for the free or freed Black residents of the city.
He recorded Sable’s report of the fire, then asked, “Did anybody see anything?”
“No.”
“Then it’s highly possible one of the children set the fire.”
Sable struggled to hold on to her temper. “It is neither possible nor probable.”
“Oh, I don’t know, little lady. Some of the kids you people have in your schools would probably rather be out in the fields harvesting instead of being stuck in a schoolroom all day. I can see one of them setting that fire real easy.”
Sable looked over at Drake, who’d escorted her there. He simply shook his head.
“Will you begin an investigation?” she asked the sheriff.
“I can come out to the orphanage and talk to the children, if that’s what you mean.”
Sable’s jaw throbbed. “I doubt you will find the arsonist there.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. If I can’t conduct the investigation my way, then I suppose you’ll have to wait until you catch the culprit in the act. Have a good day, folks.”
Furious, Sable stormed out.
She spent the balance of the day cleaning up the debris from the fire. Under Cullen’s direction, the orphans also helped. The Brats took shifts to ensure they were never alone.
Over the objections of all the Brats, Sable, Cullen and the girls insisted on sleeping at the orphanage for the next two nights. Two brothers accompanied them to provide protection. Sable wanted the orphans to feel safe, and her presence in the house seemed to help. Since the arsonists did not come back for a repeat performance, the Brats tempered their opposition and gave her their blessing to spend the following nights there alone.
On the fifth night, Sable was awakened by screams, gunshots, and the acrid smell of smoke. Jumping up from her pallet on the second floor, she ran to the stairs and descended into hell. Masked, mounted men were riding their horses through the house, throwing flaming torches onto drapes, furniture, and anything else that would burn. Other horsemen were riding down on the screaming children as if they were prey in some macabre hunt, then snatchi
ng them up and throwing them across their saddles like pelts. Sable ran for the tools she’d left by the door and began swinging a shovel with a strength fueled by her incredible rage, hitting horses, men and anything else which threatened her charges. Through the rising smoke, she saw one rider latch on to Blythe and attempt to pull her up onto his saddle, but the ten-year old fought so furiously he was forced to drop her. Cullen was aiming a rifle, and the sounds of his firing added to the unholy din. Then as if in a dream, she watched as Cullen was struck in the back of the head by a rider’s club. He crumpled to the foor as if dead, her screams of outrage shaking the heavens. She ran through the smoky bedlam and swung the shovel as hard as she could, but the rider saw her at the last possible moment and blocked her blow. Laughing, he wrestled the implement from her grasp and tried to pull her up onto his horse. She fought fiercely amid the fire, smoke, and cries of terror, but her effort was in vain. She felt the explosion of a blow to her head and then everything went black.
When Sable came to, it was still dark. Her head felt as if she’d banged it against a brick wall, and it hurt so bad she could hardly open her eyes. She had a vague sense of being in some type of moving vehicle, but she was too groggy to be sure of anything except pain.
Then Blythe’s fearful, trembling voice calling to her made her grope her way back to consciousness. She struggled to right her thoughts through the biting agony and felt a small hand stroking her brow.
Somehow Sable found the will to speak. “Blythe?”
“Yes, Sable, it’s me. Hazel’s here too, and so is Cullen, but his head is bleeding and he won’t wake up.”
“Hazel?”
“Yes, Mama.”
Sable managed a smile. Hazel was the only one who called her mama. “Are you and Blythe okay?”
A man’s voice answered in Hazel’s stead. “They’re both fine, Sable.”
Sable’s pain warred with her anger. She recognized the voice, and because she did, Mahti’s ominous prophesy echoed in her head: He will be the jackal and you the antelope until his death.