My Sister's Prayer (49 page)

With a heavy sigh, she complied.

As she sat down in the wheelchair, I turned back to look at the pillory one last time, thinking of the brave and determined Celeste who, much like me, had just wanted to love and protect her little sister but ended up hurting her instead—or so she'd thought. In the end she learned that Berta's plight had not been her fault after all.

Perhaps, I realized, that was a truth I needed to grasp as well.

Nicole said not one word the whole way back to Richmond. She just sat there, hugging herself, eyes closed, head leaning against the door. We'd been doing meetings for so long now that we both knew the schedule by heart, so when we got into town at 6:25, we headed straight to the 6:30 one on Monument Ave.

I pulled to the curb out front and let the car idle as she gathered her things.

“I hope you know how proud I am that you recognized the need for a meeting—and then made sure we got you to one,” I said. “That's exactly how the program is supposed to work.”

She nodded, one hand clutching her bag, the other reaching for the door handle.

“Can I ask you something?” Her voice sounded sad. Lost.

“Sure.”

She turned and met my gaze. “You would love me no matter what, right?”

Her question floored me. Of course I would, but why had she asked? Was she on the verge of doing something she knew was going to hurt me? Something so big she feared it might even make me stop loving her?

Swallowing hard, I replied, “No matter what.”

I prayed all the way home even as my mind wrapped around every possibility. Was she on the verge of using? Had something—or someone—from her former life shown up in the here and now? I hadn't seen any more of Hedge, but that didn't mean he wasn't around. With a shudder, I let myself into the carriage house and headed for the stairs.

I was so lost in thought, it wasn't until I placed a hand on the banister that I realized I wasn't alone. A man was in my living room, gaping at me in surprise, his hands buried deep in a pile of Nicole's belongings.

I gasped at the sight, realizing in an instant that this was the paunchy, balding fellow from the alley and the car. Now he was inside my home, rooting through our things? The very thought made me so furious I forgot to be scared.

“Freeze!” I barked. Without any sort of weapon, I had no way to enforce my command, but he obeyed just the same. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

He didn't answer but instead just stood there, his mouth shut tight, his expression blank.

My anger now being quickly replaced by fear, I glanced toward the door, wondering if I could make a run for it and get out before he caught me. Given our positioning, I didn't think so.

Greg's words filled my mind.

Elbows, fingers, feet, car keys, cell phone—anything you have at your disposal.

My keys were in my front right pocket, but before I attempted to arm myself, I held up my phone for him to see.

“I'm calling the police,” I said as calmly as I could. I began to tap out 9-1-1.

“Wait.”

Something in his voice made me pause.

“Before you do that, you might want to call your grandmother first.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-O
NE

Celeste

C
eleste left Sary on the ship and hurried back down the gangplank to the dock. Beyond Jonathan, on the pier, stood Emmanuel, Berta, Spenser, and George. All of them watched her.

Celeste focused on Jonathan as she reached him. He took both her hands. “I have a few errands to run. Say goodbye to your family and then ask to be shown to our cabin on the
Royal Mary
. I'll be back soon.”

Celeste watched him go, turning left when he reached the wharf, heading away from town. “What's down there?” Celeste asked a sailor walking past her.

“The slave auction. It's not open until tomorrow, but it doesn't hurt to look beforehand.”

When Jonathan reached the end of the wharf, Captain Bancroft joined him, and they kept walking, conversing as they did.

A wave of nausea swept over Celeste. She hurried to the end of the wharf and went the same direction. She called out Jonathan's name, but he didn't turn back. Perhaps the wind had whipped her voice away.

“Jonathan, wait!” she cried out again. She lifted her skirt and ran after him.

Slowly, he turned toward her, shielding his eyes from the lowering sun.

“Don't go,” she said, rushing toward him. “Please don't buy slaves. Perhaps we can open an inn in Charles Town. We can hire local help. I'll make it work, I promise.”

Jonathan shot Bancroft a look. The captain chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

Jonathan directed his attention back to Celeste. “This is none of your concern.”

“I beg to differ. If we are to be partners in marriage, we must be in agreement.”

Jonathan pursed his lips together. The captain took a few long steps forward as if to allow them some privacy.

“Please don't buy slaves.” Celeste tried to keep her voice steady. “I can't bear it.”

“I can't manage the land without them. You and I will never make a living in Carolina without cheap labor.”

“
Cheap
? It's
free
labor.”

“No, Celeste. Clothing, housing, and food aren't free.”

“Not paying wages means the labor is free!”

He shook his head. “It's more complicated than that. Besides, I'll take good care of my property, I promise.”

Property
. Again she felt as if she might be ill.

“Do you want to plant, tend, and harvest hundreds of thousands of tobacco plants on your own?” he asked.

She didn't want any tobacco plants. Celeste didn't answer him.

“I didn't think so. We need scores of laborers to make a profit.” He reached out for her hand as a plan began to form in her mind.

She jerked away. He just laughed. “You'll get over this, I promise. And in time you'll ask your family to help us. We'll need them to make a living here. I hadn't realized the true wealth your father had until Emmanuel showed up, flaunting his money.” He glanced toward Captain Bancroft again, and Celeste couldn't help but think of what he
had said about his assessment of her family's means after visiting them. It seemed likely he'd had an influence on Jonathan on this matter too. Jonathan's voice grew louder. “After what I've done for you, you'll owe me their help. That's how we'll truly be partners.”

And there it was, the moment Sary had just been warning her about. Thank the good Lord this man had shown his true colors before it was too late.

Celeste tried to smile. There was no point arguing with him or trying to convince him that her family wasn't as wealthy as he thought. Or that her parents would never agree to send money so Jonathan could purchase human beings. “Do you have a little money now?” she asked. “So I can buy some food for tonight, for when you get back?”

He took a few coins from his pouch, more than she needed, and gave them to her, seemingly relieved to have her thinking about something else. “Put all worries from your mind, my love. We'll be in Charles Town in no time. We'll marry and get situated on our land—and then I'll take care of everything. I promise.”

Celeste felt as if a half smile had frozen on her face.

“I know slavery still seems foreign to you,” he said, “but it's how things work here. Even among the Huguenots.”

Celeste simply took the money from his hand, thanked him, and then told both men goodbye. If Celeste ignored what Sary had said about Jonathan and also what Berta had claimed, what else would she have to ignore in the future? She'd be coerced into asking her parents for money but not telling them what it was for. She'd end up tricking them into going against their beliefs because her husband felt she owed it to him. If she thought she'd lost her faith in God before, in the future she would be absolutely stripped of any hint of faith if she agreed to lead such a deceptive life. She wouldn't be able to live with herself at all. She would end up dead in a churchyard like the maid before her, stripped of all dignity and hope.

Aiming for the other end of the wharf, she held her head high—only to see Berta coming toward her.

“Sister,” Celeste called out. “I was wrong.”

Both quickened their steps, and when they met, Celeste wrapped her arms around Berta. “I believe you now. I'm so sorry I didn't before.”

Berta pulled away. “Don't go with him.”

Tears flooded Celeste's eyes. “When is the boat to Williamsburg scheduled to leave?”

“Soon.”

“I need to go get Sary. I'll meet you on the wharf. Don't let the
York
leave without us.”

Celeste raced back up the gangplank of the
Royal Mary
. Sary sat with her eyes closed and Celeste simply took her hand, whispering, “I'll explain in a bit.”

Sary's eyes flew open.

Loudly Celeste said, “We need to go buy food before Lieutenant Gray returns.”

Celeste had to force herself to walk, not run, along the deck of the
Royal Mary
. When they reached the wharf, she could hear Spenser and Emmanuel talking about the ring. While Spenser sounded adamant that they simply had to get it back before leaving, Emmanuel insisted it was impossible, that Wharton wasn't going to budge.

Celeste stepped forward, interrupting them. “What's going on?”

“Spenser wants me to go to Wharton again and demand the ring back,” Emmanuel told her. “He said if that doesn't work, he's willing to sell himself to the man in exchange for it instead.”

She gasped. “Spenser, no!”

His cheeks turning bright red, Spenser kept his eyes on Emmanuel as he spoke. “There's one other option. What if we got the man who appraised it before to officially verify the value? If we prove that the ring is worth far more than Berta's contract, Wharton will have no choice but to pay the difference in cash or relinquish the ring. Considering its worth, I feel sure he'll be forced to do the latter.”

“Great idea,” Emmanuel said, “but is the appraiser even around anymore? I thought he was just passing through.”

“I don't know. He was staying at the Bayside Tavern, so I'll start there.” Immediately, Spenser turned to go.

“Don't!” Celeste cried. “We need to get out of here.”

“Stay out of this!” he snapped in return. He'd never been harsh with her before, or with anyone else—not that she'd seen, anyway. “I'm getting that ring back.”

Before she could respond, he marched toward the end of the wharf. Emmanuel threw up his hands and hurried after him.

Celeste yelled at them to stop, but they both ignored her and continued on. Her eyes filled with tears of frustration. As much as she mourned the loss of the ring, she had more important matters to deal with right now—starting with leaving before Jonathan returned. The issue of her contract could be handled later, from a safe distance, with her brother's help.

Celeste took the money Jonathan had given her and paid for her and Sary to board the cargo boat. A few minutes later, George and Berta also came on and sat beside each other. The boat
had
to leave before Jonathan got back—but not before Emmanuel and Spenser returned.

Celeste thought through what actions she needed to take and decided to go to the governor once they were back in Williamsburg. He had jurisdiction over all the men involved, including Constable Wharton, Captain Bancroft, Jonathan—and even Mr. Horn, if it turned out he was in on the treacherous doings as well.

Captain Doane strolled the deck, looking impatient.

“My brother will return shortly,” Celeste told him, hoping that was true.

“I'll wait a few more minutes, Miss Talbot, but we need to be on our way soon. The tide is coming in.”