Oppressed (29 page)

I held Emilie’s hand as we listened in
on the argument between Lucus and his Maman. It had been going on
for the past hour and it showed no signs of stopping. As I listened
in it became clear that our Mamans were exactly alike.

“
Maman, please. They’re our
guests; have some respect.”

“
Respect? No, Lucus, you need to
learn how to have respect for your family and your position. You
need to accept your place and all the responsibilities it brings!
Why do you insist on rebelling? If they stay here, that free slave
needs to stay in the cabins while the other one can sleep in the
attic.”

“
That’s absurd and completely
unacceptable!” Lucus screamed. It was the first time I had ever
heard him raise his voice. “You claim that I should start acting
like a man; well, this is me acting like a man. I refuse to let
them sleep in the cabin or attic. And that’s final.”

“
Cecile, it’s okay, I can
sleep in the cabin. It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Emile
whispered.

The argument from the other side of
the door had obviously taken its toll on her.

“
No. You’re not sleeping
in a cabin. You’re free.”

“
In name only,” she said
softly.

“
No. You can’t think that way.
We can’t think that way. Lucus isn’t going to let you sleep in the
cabin, I know it. Trust me.” I gave her hand a reassuring
squeeze.

“
Lucus…” Madame LaPlante
said threateningly.

“
Maman.” Lucus’ voice was calm
again. “Any so-called shame I bring on the family is my burden to
bear, not yours.”

“
Why are you so incredibly
naïve? Why can’t you see that she’s only out for thing? It’s as if
you’ve fallen under some savage spell. Why can’t you see the truth?
She’s after you for your fortune and position! That’s what women
like her do! She’s finished with your cousin, and now she’s moved
on to you. Why are you so blind to what she is?”

“
With all due, respect,
Maman, sometimes I fear I can see the truth clearer than
you.”

Madame LaPlante sighed. “I’m trying to
protect you, Lucus.”

Lucus’ voice softened. “I know, and I
thank you, but you can’t protect me forever.”

“
I don’t want to see their
faces. As long as they stay under this roof I do not want to hear
them or see them.”

I should have been annoyed at her
words, but I wasn’t. Maman’s reaction hadn’t been much better when
she agreed to keep Justine under her roof.

Lucus let out a frustrated sigh. “I
suppose I have to pick my battles carefully, don’t I?”

“
Yes, Lucus, you do,”
Madame LaPlante said.

Lucus came into the room. His face
brightened when his eyes met mine. He extended his hand for me to
take. “I’m sorry you two had to hear that,” he said.

I brushed off the whole incident as if it
were nothing. “Trust me; we’ve heard it all before.” I glanced at
Emilie and squeezed her hand.

Lucus smiled. “Let me show you to your
room.”

I gave him a small smile as I reached
out and took his hand. “Thank you.”

Chapter
Twenty-Nine

Envoi Mort

Darkwood
Plantation

A few miles outside of New
Orleans, 1853

Later that night, in our bedroom,
Emilie and I sat behind a large curved mahogany desk.

“
Your handwriting is
getting so good,” I said, as I admired her penmanship.

“
You think?” She quickly covered
the leather-bound notebook with her hand.

“
What are you writing?” I
asked, as I nosily tried to make out what she was furiously
scribbling.

She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s
silly. You wouldn’t be interested.”

“
I am,” I said
genuinely.

She looked at me and gave me a small
smile. Her blue eyes shone. “I’ll show you when I’m ready. It’s
personal. You understand, don’t you? ”

“
Oh.” I looked down at my
hands and tried to hide my disappointment. I knew exactly what she
was writing about and the truth was I didn’t have the courage to
read any of it. “I understand.”

She got up and stretched out her thin,
graceful arms and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m going to
go for a walk.”

I glanced out the window. “It’s raining,
and if Madame LaPlante sees you she’s not going to be very
happy.”

She laughed softly. “You’re the one
who says we can’t live in fear. If we’re staying here I’m not
living in fear.”

“
Let me come with you,” I
offered.

“
Oh sister, you’re always
trying to protect everyone. I’ll be fine. I just want to feel the
wind in my hair, the rain on my face and enjoy being free. I’ll be
fine. I promise.”

I nodded reluctantly. “Okay, but please
don’t be too long.”

She stared at me for a couple of
seconds and then shook her head. “Cecile, I’m an adult. You can’t
control everyone all of the time.”

“
I’m not trying to control
you. I care about you,” I said quietly.

She let out a small sigh and pulled up
the sleeves on her blue cotton dress. “The past is the past. I’m
happier than I’ve ever been. I love you, Cecile. Most people aren’t
like you. Blood doesn’t matter to them. I can’t thank you enough
for everything you’ve done for me.”

“
Really?” My face
brightened.

She nodded and gave me a big hug.
“Really.”

We held each other for a few moments
before she let me go and headed towards the door.

“
Be careful, “I called
after her.

“
Oui,
Maman,” she said, as she closed the
door behind her.

After she left, I got up and paced around
the room while randomly passing Fiery Wall of Protection oil in
corners and on various objects. I was on the lookout in case of
another attack. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that simply escaping
to the country was enough to protect me. I knew better, but I had
wanted to get away from the bizarre whispers and stares that had
followed me around the city. What had happened to Edmond? Had I
really killed him in the Cathedral, and if so who had set the house
on fire? Was it simply another King or Queen or was it something
bigger than that? My fatigued brain needed time to think and
plan.

The rain had started to get heavier and
with it came random gusts of wind which brought drafts of jasmine,
moss, and wet grass into the spacious room.

I heard a knock at the door. “Cecile,”
Lucus said softly. “Are you awake?”

I smiled and quickly glanced at myself
in the gilded mirror. I straightened out my cotton nightgown and
smoothed out my hair. I opened the door. My heart fluttered when I
saw Lucus on the other side. His face was lit by the flame of a
single candle and fire danced in his dark eyes.

I stepped out of the room and
closed the door behind me. The hallway was black, empty, and eerily
quiet. “
Bonsoir
,” I said unable to hide my smile.

“
Bonsoir,”
he said giving me a small
smile. “How are you and Emilie?”

“
We’re good,” I said.
“Thank you again.”

“
I have something for
you,” he said, as he handed me a newspaper.

“
For me?” I eyed the paper
suspiciously, as I took it from him. I was unable to contain my
excitement when I opened the paper. “
Bleak House!
” I grinned.

He nodded. “It’s the latest
installment,” he said proudly.

“
You’re supporting my
Dickens addiction?” Aside from tomatoes it was the most thoughtful
present I had ever gotten. I had told him about my Dickens
obsession a couple of weeks ago.

“
I am,” he
said.

“
Why would you want to do
that?”

He shrugged. “I want to know if Esther
Summerson will finally admit that she loves Allan
Woodcourt.”

I laughed. “You can’t reduce the
brilliance of Dickens into a love story.”

“
Love never reduces
brilliance. Love is brilliance in its purest form,” he said, as he
placed the candle on a nearby ledge and pulled me close to him. I
crashed into him and a shock of excitement ran through my limbs as
his lips found mine. He pressed me up against the wall and my body
tingled as he covered my neck and mouth in a flurry of dizzying
kisses.

“
Je t’aime,”
he whispered over and over
again. His hands traced the curves of my hips and his tongue danced
with mine. The darkness of the hall embraced us as we stood there
completely lost in one another, hidden from the world and all of
its hostility. I savored the slight taste of brandy on his breath
and the silky feel of his hair as I ran my fingers through
it.

I pulled back and placed my hand on his
forehead. He was awfully hot and his skin had a yellowish tinge to
it. “Are you feeling all right?” I asked, worried that he may have
caught the fever.

He nodded. “I feel fine. I’m a little
tired. That’s all.” He examined me carefully. “Don’t worry about
me, Cecile. I know that look. That scowl. That frown. The slight
quiver of your lips when you’re thinking of what oil to blend or
which gris-gris to make.”

I smiled and decided that it was time
to tell him how I truly felt. “Do you believe in spontaneous human
combustion?” I asked.

He took a thoughtful pause. “I’ve
never really given spontaneous human combustion much thought,” he
admitted.

“
That’s how Krook died,” I said
recalling the previous installment of
Bleak House.
“And that’s how I feel when I’m with
you,” I said.

“
You feel like
spontaneously combusting and dying?” Lucus arched his brows
slightly as if he were trying to decide if that was a good
thing.

I nodded and laughed, not quite
understanding why. “Yes. I suppose what I’m trying to say is… I
love you.
Je
t’aime,
Lucus.” It was the first time I ever said those words and
truly meant them. There was something distinctly liberating about
that

His eyes lit up and a soft smile
spread across his face. He covered my mouth in deep kiss. “See. It
didn’t take a million years. Maybe our revolution won’t
either.”

“
Lucus! Is that you?”
Madame LaPlante’s voice called from the other end of the hallway.
My blood froze.

“
Bonne nuit,”
I said quickly, as
I removed myself from his arms and opened my bedroom
door.

“
No, don’t go,” he
whispered.

“
Lucus?” The voice was
getting louder.

I blew him a kiss.
“
Je
t’aime.
Our
revolution will take one and a half million years.”

I quietly closed the door behind me. I
started to grin like an idiot.

“
Lucus, who were you
talking to?” Madame LaPlante asked.

“
Maman, you’re hearing
voices again,” Lucus said playfully.

“
Lucus. Enough with the
games.”

“
Let’s go have some more
b
randy
before bed,” Lucus insisted.

“
Lucus. I’m warning you. I know
what women like that are capable of. They’re dangerous, don’t be
fooled. The last thing I want is a bastard grand-child from
you.”

I shook my head as their voices
drifted further and further away.

“
Cecile… Cecile… Cecile…”
A haunting voice sang from behind the white lace curtains. “Help
me. Please help me.”

“
Who are you?” I asked, as
I followed the hypnotizing voice.

“
I need your help. I’m in
pain. I know you like to help people. I need your help. Please help
me…”

I was lulled by the
sing-song
quality of the voice and without my consent my feet started
to move closer and closer to the window.

“
Please tell me what you
want.”

“
Help me… Help me…” The
voice started to weep miserably.

The room around me seemed to disappear as
I started to climb out of the window and down the ivy-covered
railing. A gust of cool wind slapped my face and fat raindrops
mercilessly soaked my nightgown, chilling me to my very
core.

“
Help me. Please. I’m over
here. Come to me. Come to me.”

I tried to resist the voice but I
couldn’t. It pulled me closer and closer towards it. My heart
pounded as I floated further and further into the darkness. I could
feel that it wasn’t a loa but a human soul who hadn’t left the
plantation.

“
Where are you? Who are you?” I
asked, as I descended further into the darkness. I found myself
running on a muddy path and towards a row of dim gas-lit lamps
which I assumed were coming from the slave cabins.

“
Come to me. Come to me.” The
voice lulled me into a zombie-like state.