A Promise for Tomorrow (53 page)
Carolina walked into the foreboding silence of Oakbridge and shuddered. Her pleasant mood of the morning was quickly absorbed by the ominous atmosphere of her childhood home. Reaching for the banister of the main stairway, Carolina felt a cold, almost nauseating sensation invade her. Something was wrong, but what was it? She listened, straining to hear something amiss—some voice calling for help. But there was nothing.
I’m being silly, she told herself and gathered up her soot-smudged skirt. She tried to laugh at her feelings, but the strangeness refused to leave her.
Deciding to seek out her mother, Carolina remembered that she had planned to teach Lucy about the workings of Oakbridge. Perhaps she would find them together in the family drawing room. Quickening her steps, Carolina made her way to the second-floor room and threw open the doors without so much as a knock.
A startled house servant looked up from her dusting, but otherwise there was no one else in the room. “Kitty, do you know where my mother is?”
“Yes’um, Mizzus Baldwin. She’s done gone to show young Mizzus Adams de sewin’ house.”
Carolina nodded. “Thank you.” She left the room, hardly remembering to close the doors behind her. Just as she turned to go back to the steps, her gaze fell on Virginia’s open bedroom door. Perhaps her sister might enjoy a visit. After all, Carolina would be leaving in only a few short days, and there was still much that needed to be said between them.
“Virginia?” she called softly and knocked lightly on the open door. But to her disappointment no one was inside the room. With a shrug, Carolina backed out of the room and looked down the opposite wing. At the end of the hall was her parents’ bedroom. She knew without a doubt that her father would be one resident whom she would find exactly where she expected him to be.
She thought about sending Kitty for refreshments, then changed her mind. No, she’d simply pop in on her father and if he was up to a visit, then she would go after Kitty and have tea brought up.
“Papa?” she called as she opened the ornate oak door.
The scene that met her eyes was all of her worst nightmares come true. Hampton Cabot stood bent over her father’s bed, holding a pillow tightly pressed over Joseph Adams’ face.
“No!” she screamed, running toward the scene on legs that seemed made of lead.
She threw herself at Hampton, catching him off guard. “You beast! You vile monster! How dare you!” She struck at him with her fists, her blows falling against whatever part of him she could reach.
“Get off of me, you witch!” Hampton raged, throwing her backward by simply standing upright. He turned to face her, pure hatred in his expression. “Have you come to die, too? Well, so be it.”
He stepped toward her, seeming to expect her to cower at his threatening presence. And in truth, it was exactly what Carolina knew she should have done. But instead, she hurled herself at him once again.
“You murderer!” She was blinded by her own rage. He had just killed her father, or at least that had been his plan, and it looked as though he had succeeded. “My father loved you like a son. How could you be so heartless—so cruel?” She pummeled him with her fists.
“Cease this!” he demanded before slapping her hard.
Carolina’s vision blurred and dizziness instantly commanded her. Before she could react, Hampton charged at her with the full force of his weight, but not before both of them heard the unmistakable gasping of Joseph Adams.
“Leave her . . .” Joseph breathed out the words in a raspy, gurgled sound.
“See what you’ve done?” Hampton said as their bodies slammed against the hardwood floor.
Carolina felt the air forced from her lungs as Hampton let his full weight fall upon her. She struggled against him, pushing at his chest, gasping painfully for air, but to no avail.
Laughing at her feeble attempts, Hampton grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her arms up high above her head. “I should have done this a long time ago,” he said, then pinning both of her arms to the floor with his left hand, he reached down and tore open the jacket of her gown with his right hand. “ ‘Miss High and Mighty, I’m too good for the likes of you.’ Well, you aren’t so good now, are you? Your education is hardly going to help you out of this situation, is it?”
“No! No!” Carolina tried to scream, but because her lungs were empty, no sound came out. The dizziness had cleared to give her a full picture of the situation. Hampton was breathing heavily upon her face, his hand doing its best to tear through the layers of her clothing.
“Leave her alone,” she heard her father whisper once again. There was a sound as though he had tried to get up, but in weakness had fallen back against the bed.
“Shut up, old man. Your time is coming soon enough. There’s no one to concern themselves with your circumstance this time, Carolina. No stupid sister to steal my victory of having what I want. And I do want you,” he said, his expression leering and evil. “I always did. Even when I lied and promised you an education if you would marry me. But you were too high-and-mighty for the likes of me. Weren’t you?” He touched his lips to her neck. “I guess this brings you down a few notches, eh?”
Carolina struggled against him, and for the tiniest moment his weight seemed to lift off of her, and she was able to breathe. Gulping a great lungful of air, Carolina nearly cried aloud from the crushing sensation that gripped her chest. She tried to kick at him, hoping against all odds to gain some kind of control in the situation, but it only served to amuse him.
“You are a fool if you think your attempt at fighting is going to serve any purpose but mine.”
“No!” Joseph called from the bed once again.
“You won’t get away with this,” Carolina finally managed to say loud enough for Hampton to hear. The words seemed to catch him off guard, and for a moment, he stilled his attempt to destroy her bodice.
“I suppose you really believe that,” he said in an almost thoughtful manner. “But the truth is, I will get away with not only this, but much, much more. There’s so much about me you can’t even begin to imagine. Power and ability beyond even your mind’s capability.” He reached up to touch her face, but Carolina turned away, then quickly rethinking, turned back and bit him hard in the fleshy space between his thumb and index finger.
“Ow!” he yelled, instinctively drawing his hand back. Recovering quickly, he growled and put his hand to her throat. “You should die for that.”
He pressed against her throat hard enough that Carolina felt the blackness threaten her once again.
“Of course, you could save yourself by making it worth my while.”
Carolina closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to have Hampton Cabot’s face be the last thing she ever saw. Barely able to conjure any other image to mind, Carolina focused on remembering James’ blue eyes. She saw them clearly, then his face and his smile.
“Let her go or I’ll blow a hole clear through you.” The voice sounded remarkably like her mother’s, but Carolina was certain she had imagined it, along with James’ sweet expression. Nevertheless, when Hampton’s grip went limp, Carolina forced herself to open her eyes.
“Move this instant!” Margaret commanded again.
Hampton rolled off of Carolina, his hands up as though to ward off the threatening presence of Margaret Adams. Carolina struggled to sit up, gasping for air, desperate to put space between herself and Hampton Cabot. She managed to scoot about a foot away before a spell of coughing wracked her body.
“Lucy, Virginia, help Carolina, then see to your father,” Margaret ordered.
Carolina glanced up to find her sister-in-law and Virginia coming toward her. Their expressions were matched in terror and shock.
Reaching down, they gently helped Carolina to her feet. It was then that Carolina saw her mother standing in the doorway, shotgun leveled at Hampton Cabot.
Carolina gripped her bodice and tried to assess the damage. Only the outer jacket and gown showed signs of the savage attack. Her chemise shielded her from complete embarrassment, and as if sensing her need, Virginia took her own shawl and put it around Carolina’s shoulders. Glancing up, Carolina offered her sister what she hoped was an expression of gratitude. Virginia’s face was ashen and marred with pain, but she nodded in acknowledgment and turned to help Lucy tend to Joseph.
“You can’t seriously mean to threaten me with that,” Hampton said, trying to sound unimpressed. “You couldn’t possibly know one end of that gun from the other.”
“I know the end I have pointed at you is capable of taking off your head, and believe me, Mr. Cabot,” she said in a low, even tone, “I’d have little trouble pulling the trigger and doing just that. You yourself are always reminding me of my insanity.”
It was then that Carolina noticed the two field slaves who stood behind her mother. Carolina wasn’t familiar with either man, but they were obviously there to lend aid to her mother. Their presence gave Carolina reason to calm down and see to her father’s condition.
Joseph was extremely pale, but other than that, he seemed fine. In fact, much to Carolina’s surprise, he was actually smiling. He seemed to be enjoying the scene before him. And then Carolina realized why. Margaret had been weak and fragile for so long, and during the past years Joseph had gone out of his way to protect her from further harm. Now she was the one offering him protection. She was suddenly the strong one.
Carolina couldn’t keep from smiling herself. He was proud of her, and so was Carolina. Standing there at her father’s side, Carolina had never known a moment when she’d been more surprised by her mother, nor when she’d admired her more.
“Get up,” her mother commanded, then lowering the gun, she glanced at the men behind her. “You have finally gone too far, Mr. Cabot. Now you’ll have to face the hand of the law for your actions. Your family will now be our responsibility.”
Hampton laughed, seeming more confident now that the gun was no longer pointing at him. He got to his feet, dusted off his coat and pants, then shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know well enough that you tried to rape my daughter. Virginia heard you in here arguing and knew it wouldn’t amount to anything good.”
“He tried to smother Father,” Carolina added quickly. “I came in here to visit and found him standing there with a pillow over Father’s face.”
Margaret eyed her husband as if for confirmation. “It’s true,” Joseph said, his voice gradually regaining strength. “I’d nearly lost all hope of life when Carolina appeared.”
Margaret’s face reddened. “So not only rape of a defenseless woman, but murder of a wounded man.”
“Oh, try to prove any of it,” Hampton said in a lackadaisical manner that suggested he was not at all threatened.
“I don’t have to prove anything,” Margaret said wearily. Carolina saw her mother’s shoulders droop slightly and knew instantly that the enormity of what had just happened was finally sinking in. “Malachi, Ezekiel, take Mr. Cabot to see the constable. One of us will be there directly to press charges.”
The color drained from Hampton’s face as Margaret passed the shotgun to the taller of the two men. “You can’t be serious,” Hampton objected, his voice now clearly registering concern. “You can’t give a firearm to a darky. They’ll kill everyone in sight.”
There was a scuffling sound out in the hall, and Carolina wondered if the other slaves had gathered to watch in anticipation of Hampton finally receiving his comeuppance. She leaned forward to look into the corridor, but there was no one else to be seen.
“Leave us,” Margaret said sternly. “You’ve caused this family enough grief and pain.”
“I won’t be pushed around this way,” Hampton said, seeming to cower despite the bravado of his words. “You . . . can’t . . . do this. I have a family . . . you need me. Your husband is daft . . . senseless when it comes to taking these Negroes in hand.”
“Malachi, if Mr. Cabot so much as attempts to get the upper hand, you have my permission to shoot him,” Margaret told the large black man.
The man nodded and grinned, his white teeth gleaming in contrast against his ebony skin. He took a step forward, which caused Hampton to nearly scream out in terror.
“No! You don’t understand. I’ve whipped this boy before. He was one of the runaways. He’s hungry for revenge.” Hampton’s voice dropped to a whimper. “You can’t turn me over to him. I . . . I can see it in his eyes—he wants my blood.”
“So do I, Mr. Cabot,” Margaret said, coming to stand beside Lucy at Joseph’s bed. “But being a Christian woman, I’ll turn my desire for revenge over to the good Lord and the legal authorities. May God have mercy on your soul.”
“We have a secret!” Levinia declared, bursting into the nursery to find Nate consumed with his toy soldiers.
“I don’t care,” Nate replied in obvious indifference. His sisters seldom told him anything of much interest to him. Usually they only managed to get him into trouble.
“You’ll care about this,” Thora announced, following Levinia’s lead.
Nate gave up his struggle to remain focused. At nearly ten years of age, he still found it difficult to maintain his own ground against his twin sisters. “Then tell me.”
“Grandmother is sending Papa away,” Levinia said, nearly bursting to share this vital information.
“What are you talking about?” Nate questioned, getting to his feet. “You’re just playing games with me.”
“No, no,” Thora assured, “it’s all true. Father tried to hurt Grandfather Adams and Aunt Carolina. We saw. Aunt Carolina’s dress was all torn and everybody was really scared. Grandmother had a gun.”
“A shotgun,” Levinia corrected. “The same one Grandpa used to take hunting.”
Nate shook his head. This news was too much to take in at once. It exceeded even his sisters’ wildest imaginations. “I don’t believe you.”
“Well, go look out the window. Grandmother gave the gun—” Thora paused, correcting herself—“shotgun, to one of the Negro slaves.”
Levinia nodded, approving of the correction and reaffirming the event. “Yes, and she told him to shoot Father if he had to. He might even kill him!”