The Fancy (26 page)

his head at her, and tilting it sideways, he looked

past the bath at their massive beast, lying quietly,

content, snoring and not a care in the world –

stomach tight with meat, his master and mistress in

the room with him, what more from life could he ask?

Quinton looked back at his wife, “You wil be

the death of me, you know. You’ve shocked people

today – not to mention my brother. He was frightened

for you, thought you’d vanished, of course, I knew

better.” He paused, kissing her brow once more,

“Why do I get this feeling, no matter how much of a

Lady Sarah I try and make you, Suga is stil within,

waiting for her chance to be free?”

Turning doe eyes on him, certain to make him

weak in the knees, she asked, “You – stil love me?

Lady Sarah or – Suga?”

Cupping her lovely face, he gazed with

adoration, “You ask such sil y questions Suga, such

sil y nonsense. I love you stil , in fact I love you more –

Suga, or Lady Sarah, they are the same in my eyes.”

Pul ing her tight against him, he kissed her and that

led him to taking advantage. Unable to reel in his

desires, he made love to her, deciding that Manny -

could wait.

Later on that evening after supper, the men

came together once more, and this time after giving

the matter more thought, Manny thought the best

move, was to get there, and play it by ear once they

arrived. Since he would be assisting, they did not

have to wait around for one of his other ships; two

days later, he treated them to passage upon his

private ship, used in most cases, for family only, the

Princess Ces’alena; destination – state of Virginia

and the Clover Grove Plantation.

It would be during that journey down south, that

al truths were disclosed and discussed; especial y

for Sarah.

As Quinton had promised, the journey for her,

once underway, would take on an entirely new

meaning after having the privilege of being on the

Princess. She learned as wel that it was named

after the woman she had come to know as Ms Lena,

who in truth was a real life princess – she was

encountering an entirely new world, people and

things she would have never imagined previously to

meeting Quinton.

As for him, he was eager for his wife to spend

some time with the princess, he felt there could be

no one better to rearrange his wife’s thinking, than

her; especial y knowing that his wife had believed at

one time that there were no such things as black

princesses – it was time for her to see – that that

belief – was indeed false.

Final y the princess had set sail, and with the

captain taking charge – Manny was free to go below

to meet with Quinton, his brother and the other men

in his group.

El en was finding al of the traveling exhausting

with a smal child and immediately took to their

stateroom to rest, while Sarah accepted Lena’s

invitation for tea in her own quaint little library.

After pouring tea with the two of them sitting

comfortably, Lena opened, “Here we are final y, how

are you finding it, being on a ship again?”

“It is much different this time – beyond anything

I ever imagined. Moose is not yet sure footed.”

“Poor thing, I can just imagine. But, what about

you? How are you doing as, Lady Sarah Abigail

Caine, Countess of WhistHirst – have you yet, found

your footing?”

Sarah’s head dropped coyly, unsure of what to

say, responding she admitted, “My hunting boar,

returning with it as I did, was not very – Lady like –

was it?”

“I don’t know, depends on the circumstances.

One thing is certain, you are – a survivor. I believe,

as a lady, you must don many garbs in order to fit

into the role that is most needed. Your husband, Lord

Caine, is in love with you, he – is very proud of you;

you are doing something right.”

“He is different; there are few men like him.”

“I agree.” Lena smiled, “He is your good

fortune.”

“I wish, to be his good fortune, as you say.”

“You already are.”

“You already are.”

Sarah shrugged, “I was not born to be, what he

wishes, neither am I, the right color.”

“Says who?”

Sarah stared at Lena momentarily, thinking

about al that he’d been teaching her, thinking about

his past that he’d shared with her. Regardless of his

words, what people would see first, was the color of

her skin.

“I’m waiting…” Lena gently nudged.

“My skin is not as fair as milk, my eyes are not

blue, my hair is not the color of corn-silk, trapping the

sun-…”

“And yet, the Earl of WhistHirst, made
you
– his

wife, there must be more to it than fair skin, blue

eyes and corn silk hair – surely, there is more to

beauty, than what meets the eye. Surely, there is

more to each of us, every individual woman that

captures that one particular man’s eye – surely there

is?”

“I’ve seen none more beautiful than you.” Sarah

admitted.

“If that is true, you need to get out more.” Lena

laughed, shaking her head. “Do not be fooled Sarah,

the color of your skin, your eyes, your hair – they are

not the things that make one beautiful – never have

they been the things to hold and keep a man, nor the

things to bring a woman honor – not ever have they,

nor ever wil they.”

“But they are the things that make one of us, a

slave, while the one with the other traits wil be

chosen to be a lady, a queen, a princess.”

Lena leaned back and sighed, nodding her

head, “We have a long journey to travel together, you

and I wil let my husband know, that we wil not leave

off after your mother has been brought back – but

together, we shal sail to England; and in that time –

there are things, truths that you need to know – about

us – men, women, slaves and kings. Once you know

these things, you wil see that you are blessed – as

so few are – yet, the more of us who know the truth

and understand it, the more we wil have, to

empower ourselves, our brothers, our sisters so that

we can slowly, but surely pul ourselves up from the

depths we’ve been cast to, and held to, thus - we can

rise, and stand – and be what we real y are – equal,

and worthy as any other to be a Lady, a princess, a

leader or queen.”

Sarah nodded, giving her a humble smile and

agreed, “I would like that – to know things, more

things.”

Lena leaned across the table, laying her palm

over the younger woman’s hand, squeezing it, “And

you shal , Lady Caine, you shal – because you lack

nothing in order to be

what your husband has asked; you only need to arm

yourself with knowledge, once you have that, you can

move forward from this idea of being, just a slave

and thinking you can be nothing more.”

Clover Leaf Plantation

Pul ing in the long drive – it was already clear to

see – that for whatever reasons – the profits earned

from cotton and fancy sales had not gone on the

upkeep of Clover Leaf. The lawns were overgrown

and weedy in some areas – while bare patches

bearing holes were fil ed with muddy rain water.

Dogs ran free – barking at them as they entered the

main area near the front of the antebel um style

plantation – which was in sore need of repair and

care. Looking around Manny murmured to Quinton,

“Gambler or drunkard – in either case, they are

always in need of money. We shal be done with this

matter hopeful y come night fal and can depart by

morning.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Look around you – everything you see tel s of

a man who has no pride in his home, his plantation. It

serves him for nothing more than to sleep, gain

finance for whatever his habit may be. I would wager

that it won’t be long before we know.”

Manny, Quinton, Evan and Owen were on

horseback; with Hayden driving their wagon of

goods, and one of Manny’s men, Shel y, riding shot

gun, they pul ed up to the front of the mansion. Al

men on horseback climbed down, loosely wrapping

their reigns around the posts of the porch, Manny

taking the lead with Quinton fol owing as they

climbed the steps. Immediately the front door

opened, an Indian woman stood there to greet them,

her voice – so much like his wife’s that Quinton

immediately knew, this was Cora, his wife’s mother.

She was dark, smooth skinned with dark eyes,

She was dark, smooth skinned with dark eyes,

very similar to Sarah’s and black hair with tinges of

grey growing in amidst the strands; very slender, if

not slightly underweight, high cheekbones and

sunken cheeks.

She was dressed in her native garb, fawn skin.

Quinton’s eyes went back to meet with hers, eyes

once more, haunted, bleak – resigned – almost

dead eyes, in that instant he knew, he would not

leave this plantation without her.

Manny spoke up, “Madam, we’ve traveled for

some time, our horses are in need of water, rest; we

are in need of the same, is your master present –

please?”

She stared at them al , her eyes going from one

to the other, taking her time, they went to Quinton

once more, and there they settled on him, longer

than the others; Quinton felt a chil , he knew it was

crazy, but – it was as if she knew, final y she turned

back to Manny.

Before another word was said, the master –

Gareth Kuiper showed himself. He looked as if he’d

been sleeping, or sleeping off a night of drinking. His

hair was unkempt, his clothing disheveled.

He was a man in his mid-forties, who in truth

looked older with a grizzled face and bleary eyes –

as wel as Tabaco stained teeth - he too stared at

the group of men on his porch, walking closer, he

saw money and smiled. Turning to Cora, “Go – don’t

just stand there! Have their horses seen to.” She

turned, disappearing down the long hal .

“Come in, come in! Excuse my appearance,

my nights are tortured with an ailment for which there

is no cure.”

Two young boys came running to the front of

the big house to take their horses, and lead those on

the wagon to the back.

Manny inhaled the last of the fresh air before

entering the mansion. The others fol owing suit – the

body and breath odor coming from Gareth Kuiper

fil ed the space surrounding him.

Quinton did not like the idea of staying the

night, and would tel Manny so; they had to come up

with a quick way to get her, and get out of there.

In fact, he spoke quickly, afraid that Manny

might pin them to a night’s stay. “Our visit wil be

brief, for only a few hours or more – however, in

exchange for your hospitality, I am a physician, I

would be wil ing to look you over, your slaves,

servants.”

“They look after themselves. Me, I’m fit as a

fiddle and anything serious, Cora takes care’uv’em.”

Manny stood fighting back a grin, he was in

agreement with the doctor, the last thing he wanted,

was to lay his head down in such a place, there

would be no tel ing what he would rise with.

“Cora? Who is Cora?” Quinton asked, even

though he knew.

“She answered the door – the Indian.” He

waved her off as if not important, what he wanted

was money, “Why don’t you gentlemen have a seat,

make yourselves comfortable – you know, here at

Clover Leaf, we deal in some of the prettiest fancies

known anywhere. I’m sure I have one or two, or more

to your liking.” Rushing to his tray of drinks, “How

about a drink, before I bring’em in for you to

see’em?”

Manny turned to Quinton, deciding to let him

have the first say, so not to step on his plan.

“Fancies you say? Hm, interesting, I shal pass on

the drink, water is fine if you please, it is stil early in

the day; however, the Fancies would be nice to see.”

Manny turned from watching Quinton to the

owner, “Yes, I would like to see them as wel . As

owner of quite a few properties, I can never have

enough servants.”

Gareth rubbed his hands together, giddy with