Captured (21 page)

“You’re going to marry me when we return from Savannah anyway, so it won’t much matter.”

“I am?”

“Yes, scandalous Clare Sullivan, I’m going to make an honest woman of you.”

“I suppose that will be all right.”

“You suppose? You’re supposed to say, ‘Why Dominic, I’d be honored.’”

“Really? Is that an island precept? I’ve never been proposed to before so I wouldn’t know.”

“Sassy woman.”

Looking up at him with love shining in her eyes, she whispered, “I’d be honored to marry you, Dominic.”

“And I’d be honored to marry you, as well,
petite.”

T

She chuckled. “Your selfishness is showing again.”

“I know, but that’s to be expected from a man in love.”

Hearing him declare his love for her filled her with emotion. They were words she never expected to be directed her way, especially not from a man as powerful and caring as he. Her time with him had been like a fairy tale filled with light and hope and most of all freedom. Returning to Savannah was a necessary chapter in that same tale, but she was not looking forward to it.

“After we return here and the storm season fades, I must sail to London to meet with my father’s solicitors. There’s been a new turn in the settlement of his estate.”

“A good turn, I hope.”

“I believe so.” He told her the story relayed to him by his cousin Gabriel. “If all proves well, you could be married to a much wealthier man.”

“Wealthy enough to forsake pirating?”

“That’s a thought.”

She looked up and met his smile in the dark. “You can’t spend the rest of your life stealing from others, Dominic, no matter how noble your intentions.”

“I have to feed my people,
petite,
so let us not argue. This is our last night, you can flay my moral shortcomings when we return from Savannah, but until then…” He ran a possessive hand down her nude body. “I think we can find other more pleasurable ways to pass the time.”

Her passion rose in response to his wandering caresses, and he proved to be quite correct.

They set sail in the late afternoon on Wednesday, June 3. The sloop was built for speed, and with a fair wind they reached the Key Islands off the coast of Florida just after dark. They dropped anchor, and leaving Clare, James Early, and the rest of the small crew aboard, Dominic, Gaspar, and Esteban rowed in to meet with Esteban’s cousin Ferdinand. The Key Islands had been a haven for pirates, smugglers, and other hunted men since the late 1500s. Sea powers like the British and the Spanish swept through periodically, hoping to clean out the nests of lawlessness, but the citizenry always returned.

Seated in the office of Ferdinand’s raucous alehouse, Dominic and the others looked at the crude map Clare had drawn of the Savannah River and the adjacent city.

“This isn’t going to be much help getting us from here to there,” Dominic remarked. “Do you know a guide we can trust?”

“Yes, a man named Sam. He was born in the Carolinas, and for a price can guide you there and back.”

“How long will it take for you to find him?”

“He’s the barkeep. Let me get him.”

Moments later, he returned with a short, thin Black man. Ferdinand made the introductions, and Dominic described what they needed him to do.

The man nodded, “I can guide you in and out.”

They then talked about the blockade.

Ferdinand said, “Latest reports say the British fleet will begin moving south by summer’s end. Right now they are concentrated near New York and Delaware. They have only a small presence here in the south and their brigs are too large to patrol close to the coastline without running aground.”

“So if we can hug the coast?” his cousin asked.

“You should be able to arrive without much worry.”

It was what Dominic had hoped to hear.

Sam asked, “So when do we sail?”

“It’s a moonless night. Can you leave immediately?”

“Faster than that if your coin is good.”

Dominic tossed him a small felt bag.

The man hefted it on his palm and by his smile seemed to approve of the weight. He gestured to the door. “After you, gentlemen. I’ll fetch my belongings and we can depart.”

Back on the sloop, Dominic introduced Sam to the others. Clare could see him eyeing her curiously, but she gave him a polite nod of welcome and went back to her spot by the stern. Under his guidance they sailed east and then north.

Clare was dressed as she’d been the day Dominic carried her away from the frigate and onto the
Marie.
She tried not to give in to the sadness threatening to overcome her at the reality of returning to captivity, but it was difficult. If the plan went awry, who knew what price she’d have to pay. On the other hand, if they were successful, she and her children would have a happy and free future, and she tried to buoy her mood with those positive thoughts, but fears that this rescue might not be as cut and dried as Dominic hoped continued to plague her. The one thing she was certain of was how good it would feel to see and embrace her children after being separated from them for what seemed an eternity.

Dominic made his way to the stern to see how Clare was faring. “How are you?” He took a seat beside her. Although he couldn’t see her features clearly because of the darkness, he sensed her sadness.

“I’m well. A bit melancholy, but it’s to be expected.”

“True, but once we reach Savannah we’ll do what is needed and be back on Liberté before you know it.”

“I pray you are right.”

“I am, so rest easy.”

She nodded. He placed a kiss on her lips, then departed, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the darkness.

They entered the Savannah River and sailed east into the city in the wee hours before dawn. The docks were more crowded with ships than they’d expected but they found a spot for the sloop and dropped anchor. Richmond Spelling scrambled off and tied the boat down and Clare looked around. The smells of the water were as familiar as her own heartbeat. There was little pedestrian activity as most of the city was sleeping, and the shanties and shops were either shuttered or covered with tarps. On the opposite side of the river lay the strip of land known as Hutchinson’s Island; on this side of the river behind the docks lay the town and her destiny.

Georgia was the last of the thirteen colonies to be established by the crown. Named Georgia for King George II, it was founded by Member of Parliament James Oglethorpe, who, along with thirty-five English families, arrived at the mouth of the Savannah River in the spring of 1733. Oglethorpe established a settlement on a bluff looking out over the river and the waters of the Atlantic and called it Savannah after the river. Slavery and spirits were outlawed by the original charter, but in 1749 the restrictions were overturned. There were now fifty thousand people in the city and surrounding countryside, half of them captives. It was Clare’s hope that that latter population would be reduced by three when the sloop lifted anchor again and sailed back out to sea.

Dominic made his way to her. “Richmond is going to wake someone up so we can procure a wagon, and then we’ll head into town.”

“Thank you.”

As always, he sensed her mood. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you or your children,
petite.
The three of you will be returning with us even if I have to burn down the town to ensure it.”

That made her smile.

“Your bravery astounds me. Not many people would willingly walk back into slavery for any reason, but by Sunday evening you will be owned by no one, so keep that in your heart.”

“I will.”

He pulled her into his arms for their last embrace, and he thought his heart would burst because of how much he loved her. “Let me kiss you so you can place that in your heart as well.”

Clare knew that if she began to cry the tears would flow forever, so she gave herself up to the kiss instead and let her love for him add to the strength she knew she would be needing to help her through.

Richmond secured a wagon and brought back with him the owner of the livery, a man by the name of Calhoun, who was short and rotund. By his disheveled clothing and the lopsided, dirty white wig, it was apparent that he’d just gotten out of bed. Calhoun looked at the finely dressed Dominic, flanked by Gaspar and James dressed in plainer fare, and stuck out his hand to Dominic. “Milton Calhoun.”

“François deMille. Thank you for the wagon.” It was an alias he’d used before.

“You’re welcome. Just had to come make sure the boy was telling me the truth, didn’t want to be participating in a slave escape or aiding the crown, you know.”

Dominic didn’t respond.

“You sound foreign. Where’s your home?”

“France.”

“Ah. They had a big celebration up in Boston a few weeks back when word came that your king’s going to help us. Welcome to Savannah.”

Dominic could see that the dock was coming awake. Men were rising from the tarps they’d slept beneath. From the looks of it, the place would be fairly busy shortly, and he wanted to get under way. “I have some business in town but would appreciate you spreading the word that I have goods to sell.”

“What type of goods?”

“I’ll return shortly and we can discuss it. How much for the wagon? I’d like to have it for the duration of our stay, if I may.”

Calhoun looked at the men flanking him and seemed to see Clare standing beside James for the first time. “All these Blacks yours?”

“Your price for the wagon, monsieur.”

His focus back where Dominic wanted it, Calhoun quoted him a price that Dominic knew was exorbitant, but he gave the man the coin anyway and helped Clare up to the bench. Once he and the others were aboard, Dominic inclined his head. “Thank you, and please let the others on the wharf know that the men remaining on my sloop are well armed, and will not look kindly on unwelcome visitors.”

“Of course,” he responded quickly.

Gaspar slapped the reins and turned the two-horse team towards town.

Once they cleared the docks, Gaspar asked, “Which way, Clare?”

“Straight. I want to stop at Teddy’s first.”

Dominic on the seat beside her asked, “Why there?”

“So I can ask about Ben and Sarah. Their owners are kin to her husband.”

“Ah.”

Because Theodora lived not far from the river, the journey was a short one. Her wooden home was larger and more distinctive than the others nearby, and its owner was by far the most eccentric woman in Savannah and maybe in the entire colony of Georgia.

Clare and Dominic went to the door and Dominic rapped on it with the head of his walking stick, a necessary accessory for every fine gentleman.

It took a moment for someone to answer the summons but the door was opened. The houseman, an African Clare knew to be named Prince, peered out sleepily.

“Mistress Sullivan, please,” Dominic demanded haughtily.

Only then did Prince see Clare, and his eyes widened.

“Come in and wait here. I’ll get her.”

Moments later Prince returned, and the person entering the parlor behind him could have easily passed for a man. Tall, dressed in a man’s nightshirt, robe, and slippers, and holding an oil lamp in her hand, Theodora looked quizzically at the two people standing in her parlor and then her eyes widened. “Clare!”

“Hello, Teddy.”

“Oh, my word!” She turned and called back into the house, “Meggie, come quickly! It’s our Clare!”

Clare was pleased by the reception. Teddy had always been fond of her.

“My god, girl. We thought you were gone from us forever.”

“How are Ben and Sarah?”

“Perfectly fine. I saw Sarah yesterday. Ben’s still out in the fields of course.” Behind Teddy now stood a woman wearing much more feminine night attire. Her sleepy face was as lovely as a china doll. She took Clare’s hands in hers. “Welcome home. We were so worried about you.”

“Thank you, Meg.”

Teddy turned her eyes on Dominic. “And you are, sir?”

“François deMille. You may tell Clare’s mistress that I’ve returned her property.” And he turned and strode out of the room and back outside to the wagon.

Clare closed her eyes for a breath of a moment to keep in the pain as Teddy asked with surprise in her voice, “He was the one who took you?”

“Yes.”

The three women watched as the wagon rolled away, and once it disappeared, Teddy said soberly, “Are you well?”

And with those words, Clare became a legal captive once again.

She spent the next little while sitting in the parlor drinking the tea and nibbling on the biscuits Meg brought to her while answering the questions Teddy put to her about the abduction by the man calling himself François deMille.

“No, I’ve no idea where he took me. We’ve been at sea the entire time.”

Meg said, “It must have been terrible.”

“Yes,” she lied.

Teddy asked gently, “Were you harmed?”

Clare knew what she was implying. “Yes.”

Teddy shook her head sadly. “Well, it’s all over now. I’ll take you to Violet later this morning. Would you care to sleep for a while? You must be exhausted.”

“I am.”

Teddy added, “But I can’t believe he simply walked up here bold as day and returned you the way he did.”

“He’d grown tired of me, I believe.”

“And you are fortunate he did and that he brought you here. He could have easily cut your throat and tossed you into the ocean.”

Clare didn’t speak to that. “The Sullivans made it home safely, I take it?”

“Oh yes. Violet ranted for the first few days about not being able to find someone suitable to replace you because of the importation ban, but she did, of course. The new girl’s not nearly as talented as you, so I’m sure my niece will be happy to get you back.”

Clare didn’t speak to that, either. The importation of new African captives had been banned by one of the acts of the new American Congress, but the illicit trade continued to thrive in places like the neighboring Carolinas.

Teddy stood. “Come, we’ll make you a pallet out in the kitchen.”

Moments later, Clare bedded down on the pallet set on the rough-hewn timbers of the kitchen floor. Although Teddy frowned on slavery, she owned slaves she’d inherited from her father’s estate, and she was a product of her upbringing. It never occurred to her to give Clare the bed in the extra bedroom or a place to sleep inside the house, and Clare didn’t expect it. Meg brought her an old quilt to stave off the dawn’s chill, and then she and Teddy retreated back to the house to resume their sleep in their fine feather beds. Alone, Clare fought off all the turmoil in her mind, then closed her eyes hoping sleep would carry her away, but it took a long time.