Read Worthy Brown's Daughter Online
Authors: Phillip Margolin
Worthy Brown's Daughter (11 page)
M
atthew Penny rode from Gillette House through a downpour so heavy that he could not let his attention wander from the trail that led to Barbour’s yard. The rainstorm was so distracting that Matthew didn’t notice Roxanne until she raced in front of his mount. The horse reared. Matthew pulled back on the reins and stared openmouthed as the naked girl streaked into the woods. He almost had his horse under control when the front door slammed open and Caleb Barbour, half dressed and looking like a wild man, leaped off of the porch and pounded after Roxanne.
Matthew dismounted in one smooth motion and planted himself in Barbour’s path. The men went down in a heap with Matthew underneath. Barbour planted his knee in Matthew’s chest and tried to stand. Matthew grabbed his leg and threw him to the ground. Both men gained their feet and faced each other in a crouch, fists up.
“Penny!”
“What’s going on here?”
“Get off my land.”
“Not without an explanation. What did you do to that girl?”
“That’s none of your concern. Didn’t you learn that in court today?”
“Did you molest that girl?”
“The nigger’s my property, or did you forget that? A man can do what he wants with what he owns.”
“Roxanne Brown is a human being.”
“She’s a nigger, and she’s mine because you couldn’t beat me in court. When Gillette gets back and finds out how easily I bested you, he’ll realize he’s made a mistake. You’ll be out, Penny, back representing penniless farmers and niggers—the only clients you’ll be able to get.”
“Is this what it’s all about, Benjamin Gillette’s business? Caleb, I had nothing to do with Ben letting you go. Don’t take out your anger at Ben and me on this helpless girl. Let me take her away, and I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll pay you. Let’s get out of this rain and settle this lawsuit. Name your price.”
“My price?” Barbour jeered. “You’re offering to buy Roxanne? I can’t sell you a human being, Penny. That’s slave trading.”
“Not sell her. I’ll compensate you for the money you’ve expended in raising her. It will be a straight business deal.”
“Roxanne’s not for sale. I like her . . . company. The nights are getting cold, and I’ll need to keep warm.”
“You bastard,” Matthew breathed between clenched teeth.
“A whore’s a whore, Penny, whether she’s a nigger slave or the boss’s daughter.”
Matthew roared as he lunged forward. Barbour flung up his hands, but Matthew’s fists smashed through them, beating Barbour back through the muddy yard and toward the porch. The bottom step caught Barbour’s heels and his feet flew up, tilting his body backward. Matthew heard a sickening crack when Barbour’s head struck the pointed corner of the top step. Matthew’s momentum carried him over Barbour’s limp body and onto the porch. He rolled, then rose, fists at the ready, waiting for Barbour to stand and resume the fight. When Barbour didn’t move, Matthew dropped beside him, listening for a heartbeat and feeling for a pulse. There was no heartbeat and no pulse and no reaction to the raindrops that pelted his face and body.
Matthew rocked back in shock. He was a murderer. He’d struck Barbour dead in a rage, without legal justification. It was he who had attacked. Barbour had made no aggressive move before Matthew launched his assault. Matthew had not been defending himself or Roxanne, who was safely away when the blows were struck. Matthew had hit Caleb Barbour in a rage because Barbour had insulted Heather Gillette.
Glass exploded in a second-story window. Matthew looked up and saw flames. He threw his arm across his face as hot glass showered down. A flaming board fell across Barbour’s face and set the flesh on fire. The explosion acted like a slap in the face. He remembered Roxanne’s desperate flight. She was out there in the dark, naked and terrified. Matthew leaped onto his horse and raced after her.
Roxanne had made no attempt to hide her trail. Matthew tied his horse to a tree near the spot where she’d crashed into the dense woods. The mare neighed with fright, the smell of smoke in her nostrils and the flames reflecting in her panicked eyes. Matthew knew he had to act fast before she tore free of the makeshift hitching post in her zeal to escape the fire. He wasted no time shouting after the fleeing girl. Instead, he rushed through the thick underbrush, ignoring the low limbs that slashed at his face and tore at him. He heard the snap of branches as Roxanne fought her way through the woods and redoubled his efforts until he was in sight of the frightened girl. Blood streaked her flanks. Her arms swung this way and that as she batted aside branches and pushed through the brush.
“Roxanne,” Matthew cried.
The girl turned her head, her eyes wide with terror.
“I’m Matthew Penny, your father’s lawyer.”
The words made no impression on Roxanne, but her momentary halt gave Matthew a chance to reach her. She lashed out, fighting with a fury born of desperation and insanity. Matthew grabbed her in a bear hug. Her body was slippery from the rain, and he had to fight to hold her. She lowered her head and bit him. The sharp pain forced Matthew to loosen his grip, and Roxanne broke away. He tackled her, and they fell to the ground.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he cried, but Roxanne was in no condition to understand him.
“Oh, Christ,” Matthew thought as he steeled himself to do the only thing that made sense. He felt awful when he hit Roxanne. She went limp and slumped to the ground. Her flesh had been torn in dozens of places, her nose was bleeding, and her lip was split. Matthew took off his coat and put her arms through it. Then he carried the unconscious girl to the road. His mount was barely tethered to the tree. Her eyes bulged with terror as she stared toward the burning house. Matthew hoisted Roxanne onto the horse in front of him and rode toward Gillette House.
There was no need to lay on the whip. Fear drove his mount full tilt. As he raced through the dark, the rain let up and Matthew remembered Barbour’s lifeless form stretched across the porch steps. He wept bitter tears for all he’d lost in that moment of animal rage. His hopes for a life with Heather had been dashed the moment Barbour died. All he could look forward to now was imprisonment or the hangman’s noose.
Heather was waiting expectantly in the study at the front of the house. When Matthew’s horse raced into the front yard mounted by Matthew and a partially clothed Roxanne, Heather shouted for the houseman then rushed out the front door.
“What happened?” she cried when she saw Roxanne’s condition.
“Barbour’s dead. His house is on fire,” Matthew answered as he helped Roxanne down. Her breathing was labored, and her eyes were now wide with shock; the cuts and bruises all over her body continued to ooze blood.
“Go for Dr. Sharp,” Heather told the houseman, who was walking onto the porch followed by a maid as Matthew carried Roxanne inside. “Then tell Marshal Lappeus that Caleb Barbour’s house is on fire and Barbour is dead.”
Heather followed Matthew inside. “Get this child some clothing,” she told a maid as she directed Matthew to a guest bedroom.
Matthew laid Roxanne on the bed, making sure that his jacket covered her. Heather lit a lamp before rushing out of the room. There was a straight-back chair in a corner of the room and Matthew dropped onto it. Adrenaline had kept him going since he rode into Barbour’s yard, but he’d depleted his supply. His shoulders sagged, and he held his head in his hands. What was he going to tell Heather when she asked him what had happened?
Heather and a maid came in with clothing and bedding. Heather held the light over Roxanne and pulled aside Matthew’s coat. Her face showed her shock when she saw the cuts and bruises that covered Roxanne’s body.
“Who did this?”
“Caleb Barbour,” Matthew answered in an exhausted monotone.
“Why is she unclothed?” Heather demanded, outraged by the answer that suggested itself.
Matthew shook his head wearily.
“Fetch soap and hot water,” Heather told the maid. As soon as she left, Heather knelt beside Matthew.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Please, not now. I’m exhausted.”
Matthew closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the chair, hoping to forestall the inevitable.
“Was . . . Did Worthy Brown . . . ?”
Matthew opened his eyes, confused by the question.
“Did Mr. Brown kill Barbour?” Heather asked.
It had not occurred to Matthew that Worthy would be a suspect until Heather spoke his name. It now dawned on Matthew that Worthy’s name would be the first that came to mind when Barbour’s body was discovered.
Matthew started for the door and Heather grabbed his arm.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to go back to Barbour’s place to talk to Marshal Lappeus. There could be a lynch mob. Worthy threatened to kill Barbour in front of the whole courtroom. Everyone heard him. He’ll need my help.”
Matthew ran out of the room just as the maid returned. Worthy was in danger, but Matthew had more than the ex-slave’s safety in mind as he ran out of Gillette House. As long as he wasn’t with Heather he could postpone telling her that he had murdered Caleb Barbour.
W
orthy Brown left for Caleb Barbour’s house shortly after the rain stopped. He brought no weapon. Worthy only wanted his daughter back. He hated Barbour, but he had no wish to hurt him unless it was necessary. It wasn’t difficult to find his way through the woods in the dark. Worthy had made this trip from his cabin many times. When he traded the forest path for a country road that connected Barbour’s house to a neighboring farm he noticed a splash of scarlet above the treetops. As soon as he understood what he was seeing, Worthy broke into a run. When he burst into Barbour’s front yard he saw the body sprawled across the porch steps and rushed toward the corpse. Pieces of burning debris had blistered its face, but the scorched flesh vaguely resembled Caleb Barbour.
“Roxanne,” Worthy shouted. The creaking of timbers and the crackling fire answered him. He called his daughter’s name as he jumped onto the porch and headed for the front door. The heat and the flames forced him back. A section of the roof started to go. Worthy jumped backward into the yard and heard the sound of horses riding hard.
“It’s the nigger,” someone shouted as men galloped toward him. One of the riders spotted the corpse stretched out on the porch steps.
“That’s Barbour. He killed Caleb Barbour,” the man cried out.
Some of the men drifted over to view the rain-soaked, half-burned corpse. Then the men around the corpse turned their horses and rode toward Worthy. He tried to run, but the riders surrounded him. Then a lasso encircled him, and he was pulled up on his toes.
Worthy didn’t see the man who broke his ribs with the point of his boot, but he heard the rib snap. Another blow numbed his shoulder. He wanted to protect his head, but the lasso pinioned his arms to his side, and he could only writhe in pain.
“Stop!” Matthew Penny yelled as he drove his horse into the crowd. The men scattered, and Matthew leaped to the ground beside Worthy. He slashed the rope with his knife.
“Get back,” Matthew shouted as he brandished his knife.
“He killed Barbour,” someone shouted.
“Get the nigger lover,” shouted another.
A pistol butt came down on Matthew’s head, and the pain blinded him.
“The nigger,” someone shouted. Matthew saw Worthy running for his life through a red haze. Then he saw Marshal Lappeus and several other riders charging into the yard. He started to tell them that Worthy was innocent, but before he could speak a rifle butt connected with his skull and he crumpled to the ground.
