Shadow Conspiracy (27 page)

She heard him move away. She let out her breath silently, waiting.

She was beginning to see dim shapes: large tanks and tangles of piping. Confusing until she remembered that the old sugaring equipment was being stored here.

A startled squeak told her of Dominic’s success. She waited, but instead of his returning footsteps, she heard a soughing like a shifting of cloth. Curious, she walked toward the sound, keeping a hand against the barn wall. Twice she bumped against pieces of metal and had to step around them; fortunately she made no noise.

The soughing continued, much nearer now. Marie heard a soft clank as well. Her curiosity piqued, she withdrew her lucifers and candle from her pocket and struck a light.

Dominic’s head spun around toward her, eyes glaring in fury. In his hands were two large rings, one perhaps three feet across, one nearly double that, with canvas hung between them. Marie could not fathom what it was.

In the flickering light of her flame, Dominic shoved his apparatus beneath a large vat and turned to her. Marie had been so surprised that she had not lit the candle, and now the lucifer scorched her fingers.

She dropped it. A flame leapt up from the straw-covered floor.

Gasping, Marie stamped at the fire, extinguishing it before it could become a conflagration. Darkness blinded her again, and the smell of burnt straw rose around her. She felt Dominic come up beside her, heard his own feet scraping at the straw on the floor.

“That was foolish.” Anger vibrated in his voice, still low, though no longer a whisper.

“Yes. Forgive me.”

“Go back, now.”

“I cannot see my way.”

A hand grasped her arm above the elbow, roughly guiding her. The route was different; straight across the barn rather than around its edge. Marie stumbled over a loose piece of piping that clattered loudly.

A scrabble and a squeaking followed, then subsided. A cow lowed somewhere near. Dominic moved forward, dragging Marie after him.

“You should be free,” she repeated, somewhat out of breath. “I can help.”

“Help?” His voice was scornful, then suspicious. How?”

“I can raise money. Have you been able to save anything?”

“Ramsey will never sell me, and even if he would I am too expensive.”

“What did he pay for you?”

 “Fifteen thousand dollars.”

Marie caught her breath. He was right; it would take her years to raise such a sum.

“I can help in other ways.”

“What do you mean?” His voice was a hiss, angry.

She understood his suspicion. For all he knew, she was sent by his master to discover any scheme of escape he might have. An intelligent slave could be expected to break for freedom.

“You are building something,” she said. The fingers on her arm tightened, and she hastened to add, “Do not tell me what. Tell me instead what you need. Materials? I can bring them from the city.”

He was silent for a long moment, then abruptly a door opened behind Marie and Dominic pushed her through it, out into the yard. The sugar house stood a few yards away, light gleaming from its open doors.

“Silk,” he whispered.

An odd request. She could not begin to imagine his need for costly fabric.

“How much?” she asked.

“Six bolts.”

Marie bit back an exclamation. Was he planning a ball? Did he mean to dress every slave on the plantation in riches?

“And fifty spools of heavy thread, and silk cord, a thousand feet of it.”

“What colour?”

“Colour doesn’t matter.”

Why?

Marie resolved not to ask. While it would be expensive, the materials he wanted were within her means to provide. She would be more than willing to provide them...on one condition.

“If I bring you these, will you take one other with you?”

The light from the sugar house showed her his frown. “Who?”

“Mignon.”

He laughed. “A machine?”

“That is my price. Her freedom, along with yours.”

Dominic frowned. She watched him breathe three times before he answered.

“Done.”

He released her arm. Marie resisted the urge to rub at it.

“I will go tomorrow, and return with the materials.”

A smile curved his lips. He reached into his pocket and withdrew something small and squirming.

“Don’t let it bite you.”

Marie took the mouse by its tiny scruff, stroking it to soothe it. It stilled beneath her hand.

“Hello, Mr. Ramsey,” she cooed.

She departed the following day, claiming an urgent calling summoned her back to town. Her reputation was such that no one questioned it, although Adele raised her brows in surprise.

Mr. Billings protested. “I haven’t finished the notes for my article!”

“Lend me your carriage. I will bring it back in three days.”

“Well of all the—”

“And I will bring you a case of brandy, as well.”

Grumbling a little for form’s sake, he yielded, and Marie went off to pack. As she was just finishing, a knock fell upon her door. She opened it to find Mignon outside.

The maid looked unchanged, except for a shadow in her eyes. Marie peered into them, though the maid would not meet her gaze.

“You are unhappy.”

Mignon’s brows drew together slightly, then she nodded. No tears. Nothing so human.

“I am working to free you,” Marie whispered.

Astonishment came into the mechanical eyes. The rose to meet Marie’s. “How?”

Marie raised a finger to her lips. “You must be patient. Promise you will not give up hope.”

Another nod. “I promise.”

“Good. Now you may help me by asking two of the boys to come up here and carry Zombi’s tank.”

The maid looked at the tank, then stepped to it and lifted it from the table where it rested. Marie’s heart lurched, but Mignon seemed to have perfect control of the unwieldy thing.

“To the carriage?” Mignon asked.

Marie hastily cast Zombi’s shawl over the tank. “Yes. Carefully, please.”

She followed Mignon down the stairs, grateful that Zombi was in a digestive stupor at present. Keeping her farewells brief, Marie swore to Adele that she would lead the promised dances upon her return.

The journey to New Orleans was uneventful, and in three days’ time Marie had purchased the silk, thread, and cord that Dominic wanted. She packed all of it into a large steamer trunk. Christophe, her lover and the father of her children, observed her preparations with bemusement.

“But what is it
for
, cher?”

“I have not the slightest idea. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

She sketched for him the apparatus she had glimpsed in Dominic’s hands, telling him the while of the slave’s brilliance and ambition.

Christophe frowned at her drawing. “I am sure I have seen that before. Metal rings, you say?”

“Yes. Made of leftover pipe, I suspect.”

“It looks like some of the skirts in the new mode. The big, full ones.”

Marie gazed at the drawing. “I see what you mean. Perhaps he is hosting a ball after all.”

Christophe chuckled. “I am tempted to accompany you, just to see what comes of it.”

Marie cast the paper aside and embraced him. “Do. I may be there longer than I thought. Whatever Dominic’s plan is, I am determined to see it through.”

He kissed her, then sighed. “Alas, I have business. Perhaps I will join you later.”

Disappointed but unsurprised, Marie prepared to return to Laurel Grove. She had the steamer trunk strapped to the roof of the carriage, and the case of brandy set on the floor at her feet. She half feared the additional luggage would be questioned when she arrived at Laurel Grove, but fortunately the spectacle of Mignon carrying Zombi’s tank back into the servants’ wing drew attention away from the rest of the baggage.

Marie whispered in Mignon’s ear as the maid was leaving, “Come to me again as soon as you can.”

Mignon nodded. Marie spent the evening in her room except for a visit to the sugar house early on, in which she contrived to ask Dominic where he wanted the silk.

The slave looked startled, then told her to bring it to the barn and cover it with a certain blanket. Marie returned to her room to wait. Near midnight she concluded that Mignon would not be coming that night, and went to bed.

“Madame?”

“Gracious!” Marie sat up in bed, heart pounding. “What is the hour?”

The shadow beside her stood uncannily still. “Three. I could not get away sooner.”

Mignon. Marie gave herself a moment for composure, then nodded.

“It is well, for I need you to do something that no one must see.”

Mignon had no difficulty carrying the steamer trunk, even though it was larger and heavier than Zombi’s tank. Holding it easily before her, she moved silently down the stairs and out into the light of a hazy moon. Marie led the way to the barn, then paused in the open doorway, straining to see.

“Do you see a blanket with black stripes?”

“Yes,” said Mignon. “It is there, to the left.”

“Put the trunk there and cover it with the blanket.”

“Never mind,” said a man’s whisper.

Marie jumped, then recognized the voice. “Dominic. You were waiting?”

“Working. This is the only time I have for it.”

A small scrape preceded a blaze of light from a lantern that had been covered. Against the mass of cluttered equipment in the barn, Marie saw a framework of pipes, bent into a rough cube perhaps four feet to a side. Between the pipes, rising halfway up the frame, was a weave of basketry.

Marie’s curiosity increased. Whatever was he making?

Mignon set the steamer trunk on the floor without a sound. Dominic looked at her, seeming impressed.

“I have brought what you asked,” Marie said, opening the trunk and showing him the silk and cord. “How soon can you keep your part of the bargain?”

Dominic’s face went wry. “Months yet. There is much work to do.”