Fair Winds 1
by Atonia
(Sequel to Tradewinds)
Part 1
Off the coast of Brazil Jack Aubrey picked up survivors from The Accolade, a ship recently sunk by an American privateer. A handful of officers and twenty seamen, carpenter and the ship’s doctor gratefully left the whaler that had picked them up and came aboard the Surprise.
One particular young officer, Lt. Henry Aubrey came aboard searching the decks, his gray eyes narrowing in the early morning sun as they skimmed over the officers and men gathered to accept them. Finally his eyes alighted on a tall man, his blond sun bleached hair still worn long and clubbed at the base of his neck. Something different about his uniform though, might it have to do with the blue at the mizzen?
It had been five years since they shared a deck and then he’d only been a midshipman of fifteen. Henry Aubrey was now twenty. He’d grown into a strong, broad shouldered young man. His sun streaked golden brown hair waved about his forehead. His dark fringed gray eyes smiling now but he straightened his shoulders and turned addressing his men, for he was now the highest ranking officer from The Accolade.
Jack moved with his officers to the survivors. "Enter these men’s names into the log," he ordered and stopped, staring at the young officer.
"Lt. Aubrey," he said and a smile crept across his face.
"Sir," Henry answered trying not to smile. Years of naval discipline ingrained into his being kept him from throwing his arms around his Papa.
"Have you had breakfast Lt. Aubrey?" Jack asked after greeting the other officers in turn.
"None to speak of Sir."
"You will join me," he said in passing.
"Killick there!" Jack called as he came into his cabin followed by Henry, "light along a pot of coffee and see what breakfast you can pull up."
"Which is ready," Killick came through with a pot of coffee, his long braided hair showing more gray than brown now. He gave a quick look at the officer recognizing him at once and moved quickly back to his galley.
"How do you fare, Henry?" Jack came to him and gave him a hug which was returned.
"Very well, Sir. I noticed a blue mizzen?"
"Yes," Jack beamed, "it came through three days ago, and it’s been a long slog and one I was beginning to doubt would ever come my way."
"Congratulations, Admiral." Henry smiling stepped away from him and looked toward the coffee pot.
After they’d gone over the attack on The Accolade and loss of men, particularly the loss of Capt. Rogers, They cut into their breakfast.
"Where are you bound for, Sir?" Henry asked.
"Well, bound for home…how old are you now Henry?"
"Nearly twenty-one, I have a birthday in three weeks."
"I thought as much," Jack plopped a forkful of beef into his mouth. "Since it’s my call I think we will make a stop in the West Indies."
"The Spice Islands?" Henry swallowed, "What business have you there, if you can tell me Sir?"
"More of a personal matter." Jack sipped his coffee.
"My mother was from Grenada, do you think we might…."
"Yes, indeed we might." Jack replied.
Henry had moved up quickly through the ranks and wore his well earned stripes with pride. Only once for an eight month voyage had he served under his Papa in the ten years he’d been at sea. Jack had treated him no differently than the other midshipmen on his ship but word had spread through the crew about Henry Aubrey, nothing ever confirmed outright but it was assumed he was Jack’s son.
"Have you been to Meadowfields of late?"
"It’s been about fifteen months, Sir since I had leave to spend any time there. Mr. Dawson has passed away and Diggety has hired someone else, Patrick Overby, to take his place. Mick’s living in the tenant house now, married with two girls I think. And you Sir?"
"You’ve been there since I have; I assume everything was in order?"
"Appeared to be." Henry set his cup down.
"When we get back to England we must pay a visit, I believe Mr. Armistead is still in the village. You will come into your inheritance at that time."
Henry sighed, "I don’t know what difference it will make, and I will still come to you."
Jack smiled a little, "I will offer advice if asked but the estate will be yours to do with as you please."
Henry met his eyes, "And how is Ashgrove and all present there?"
"Very well, Sophie will be well pleased to see the blue mizzen. She’s seen me through thick and thin, more thin than should have been but that’s neither here nor there."
"She seemed a very sweet lady," Henry picked up his cup again, he’d been taken to Ashgrove when he was fifteen before shipping out with Jack and had met his half sisters and Sophie Aubrey. He’d been introduced as Henry Latrouix. "I was sorry to hear about your father, have you come into Woolhampton now?"
"Yes, I have though I hardly know what to do about it. I’ve not had the time at home to realize my position as yet," Jack pushed his finished plate away and gazed at Henry for a moment then looked away. He was coming up on his 21st and the decision to skirt by the West Indies had come to him when he saw Henry on deck. By the time they reach the island he would have had his birthday and the truth about his birth and his inheritance would have been laid out for him. God help them both.
It had been a rousing night at Jack’s table; many glasses had been hoisted in Henry’s direction celebrating his 21st birthday. As the room began to clear out Jack called Henry back.
"Henry, I have something for you from your mother. I’ve kept it with me all these years never hoping to actually be with you when you reached your majority. We are both a little worse for the bottle and perhaps that is just as well."
Henry laughed at first and then moved unsteadily to a chair at the table, "An eleven year old birthday present."
Jack moved to his sea chest and after a moment came up with a package wrapped carefully in oilcloth. "I haven’t looked at this in years; I do hope the rats have not been at it."
Henry watched him move to the table and unwrap the package. The outside paper wrappings fell away with the oilcloth. Inside was a leather pouch containing a small journal and many papers folded and sealed. They were numbered.
"I’m not sure I can see to read this," Henry widened his eyes and Jack brought the lantern closer. "Have you read it can’t you just tell me what it says?"
"No, I’ve never opened the package. It was meant for you although I have an idea what it’s about." Jack pulled up a chair and sat down heavily.
"I guess I’ll start with number one then," Henry unsealed the first letter; it was several pages long written in her hand.
Jack nervously fiddled with his empty glass and finally reached for the bottle, filling his glass he rose from the table and walked to the bank of windows over the lockers. After awhile he heard a chair leg scrape across the floor. Henry had merely moved his chair back away from the table and the letters lay out across it.
"Well, what do you make of it?’ he asked Henry.
"All these years," he looked up at Jack, "you knew and yet you let me believe…"
"Would you have had it any other way; would you have felt any different of me? I nearly let the truth fly after your mother died but I was still held by the agreement we had, it was her desire that you know who you really are."
"Who I really am? I am who I am who you and Nana made me to be." He waved a hand toward the table. "I do not know these people they mean nothing to me."
"They do not know you either but you are their natural son. It was your mother’s wish, and yes I still think of her as such, that you realize your true identity and take what is rightfully yours from this island."
Henry reached for his glass and finished the last of the port. "Sir, may I take my leave of you?"
"Of course." Jack watched him head for the door and he stopped, weaved about and caught at the back of a chair.
"You…you planned this…Grenada in sight and all this…" he waved a hand toward the papers. "You…you could have mailed them to me at Meadowfields but no…now…I have to take some action…present myself as the rightful heir, present myself to a man who is my father by blood only and claim to be his son and what of the son he has, what is he to do with him? It’s a bloody thing to do…" he lurched as the ship rolled.
Jack was there and caught him before he went down, "You need do nothing it is up to you. You have a choice…press the issue, claim what is rightfully yours or walk away. Greenlees meant a great deal to your Nana, she lost it twice over, once to her husband and once to her sister. I don’t think she meant to lose it a third time."
"But she’s not here," Henry clung to his arm, "it is me that is here and I don’t know Greenlees nor do I wish to know it."
"I am only bringing you to the door, whether you pass over the threshold is up to you. I have fulfilled my part of the bargain."
Henry’s head swam with drink and emotion, he clutched at Jack, "you won’t let me drown."
"Good Lord no, have I ever let you down if so I am sorry," he’d mistaken drown for down.
"No, Sir…never it’s not in you to ever let a body down. If I must confront these people…she wanted me to…" he looked down for a minute, "come with me…can you?"
"Yes." Jack replied simply and drew Henry to him for a quick hug, "well you should try your bed before the drink gets the best of you."
"Thank you, Papa," he mumbled and opened the door to the cabin and walked out.
Jack sat down and read through what he’d left on the table, folded it away back into the leather pouch. Catty had made the best of what proof she had; signed statements from Glenda Pooley her maid, Dru the true mother of Latrouix’s son. James and Peters had also signed a statement. The midwife from the village proclaimed the child born to Judith Lewis to be sound without fault or disfigurement. All signed and witnessed. This carried great importance to Catty but Jack still questioned her actions especially after he’d seen Henry’s reaction. He shook his head slightly and made ready for bed.
Part 2
Sober, in his dress uniform with his unruly hair slicked back into a club at the base of his neck, Lt. Henry Aubrey stared toward the fast approaching land, they’d come through the narrows and now were laying off waiting for the expected salute. He blinked his eyes when it came, the thundering guns from Grenada. He heard Captain Pullings off to his left and later the Bosun’s voice thundering over the rigging. The Surprise answered the salute and now the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air but not quite blotting out the smell of the islands.
His hands found the rails and soon he heard his Papa’s voice in the mix behind him. He turned to look in his direction and a smiled crawled up the side of his face, Jack was resplendent in his Admiral’s coat and lace. "Good morning, Sir."
Jack smiled a little, "Good morning Lieutenant."
"What is that smell, Sir is it the island?"
"They grow nutmeg and other spices I believe that is what you smell. " Jack turned to Captain Pullings and walked away with him.
Henry had been gazing at the island for some time, taking in the shape as they neared and now the scent . He tried to feel some affinity for the island some deep blood related connection but he felt nothing. It was an island like so many others he’d seen, walked upon, it’s people foreign.
"Nutmeg."
"Good morning Dr. Maturin."
"Good morning, Lt. Aubrey are you well?"
"Very well, Sir a bit too much celebration last evening but otherwise…"
"Your twenty-first."
"Yes. You know of course of my origins…I was given a package from my mother last night."
"Ah yes…the package of truths."
"I will tell you at first it made me angry, angry that I had been deceived but then I looked at Papa and it all went away. I cannot be angry with him."
"It was not his doing, it was Catty’s."
"He’s made this unplanned stop here for my benefit, so that I might see and know what is rightfully mine but I tell you Dr. Maturin I want none of it. I do not know these people nor do I wish to, they mean nothing to me. I remember my mother and I know who my father is regardless of bloodlines. Have you met them?"
"I met Judith shortly after your birth. In looks she was very much like your mother but they were two different people. She was very charming and beautiful. I understand Mr. Latrouix, the elder has passed away."
"He’s been dead for eight years Papa had a letter from Jean it was sent to Meadowfields for my mother and forwarded to him by Peters. Jean was unaware of my mother’s death."
"I remember his response, we were both answering letters at the table. It pained him to have to write of her death. He loved her very much."
"Yes I know, he was never afraid to show his feelings. I’ve seen his tears and yet I’ve seen the same man cut another to ribbons in battle. I don’t’ think he wanted to give me the package."
"I know he did not, he feared your reaction, afraid you would turn from him and despise him."
"Never, the bond is too strong. I too thought he might turn from me when I joined the service especially since he’d forbidden me to do such a thing. I know he was angry for some time, I received a few letters from him that nearly burned my hands whilst reading. I had to prove myself to him; that I was not a little sniveling milk-sop who would run home at first port. "
"You have been very brave, Henry and do not fear you ever have to prove anything to Jack." Stephen smiled at Henry wondering what the young man would do about his inheritance, he’d given no indication which way he would go if he went at all.
The first week on Grenada was taken up with official calls on the Governor and military officials come over from the fort upon seeing a man of war ship in port. Dinners followed and Jack had hoped to see his friend Jean Latrouix in attendance but he was absent from all social gatherings. It was said he was still in mourning for his wife dead these last two years. This was a bit of news, he was unaware Judith Lewis had passed away.
Jack sent a note to Jean Latrouix asking to see him and the request was accepted. Henry accompanied him in the carriage.
"This is only a social call, Henry you need not reveal anything unless you are moved to do so."
"Yes Sir." Henry was looking out of the window as the turned up the winding narrow road that would take them to Latrouix’s Plantation. "Is that sugar cane?"
"Umm yes, that used to be the only crop here but due to a few years of bad weather they began planting spices, namely nutmeg. Now, I believe, it is the main crop grown here on the plantations."
"Are they still largely owned by men who live in England, never setting foot on the soil they own?"
"I couldn’t answer that. I know James Lewis and his father before him lived at Greenlees. The Latrouix family has been here for at least two generations. The owner of Meadowfields was brother to Jean’s grandfather and owned a piece of the island himself but according to Jean he sold it, sickened by the slavery required to keep it up.
"Slavery is an abomination. At least England has come to her senses in that regard but will it ever reach across the Atlantic? I see such huge plantations here, it would be the ruin of every man on the island were they to have to pay their workers. I find the whole idea of plantations disgusting." Henry curled his lip.
"Well, my dear, should you decide to claim your rightful place here, you will undoubtably own two at some time in the future."
Henry went silent. The large rambling house came into view, louvered shutters covered all windows and doors against the noontime sun. A servant let them into a dimly lighted reception room.
Jean Latrouix rose from a chair, "Jack, how good of you to come."
"Jean," Jack shook his hand, "Um this is Lt. Henry Latrouix Aubrey." He turned to Henry who stepped forward and dipped his head.
"Aubrey…a relation?"
"You might say that." Jack took a seat and a glass of lemonade from the servant. "This is refreshing. I only heard last evening about Judith, I am sorry, Jean I do know how much you loved her."
"Do you?" Jean seemed to crumple before Jack’s eyes. "Do you know what it is to love someone to the point of obsession, to the point it blinds you to everything else?"
"I do know what it is to love someone, I loved her sister."
"Yes…you did." Jean rose from his chair and put the lemonade down and poured a glass of rum. "May I offer you a drop?"
"No, thank you sir," Henry answered.
Jack shook his head slightly and noted Jean’s shaking hand as he poured his ‘drop’ into a tumbler.
"Did you happen to hear how she died or perhaps the gossip has died down now, it has been two years…although at times it seems only yesterday."
"No; only that you were in mourning for her these last two years."
Jean ran a hand through his unkempt hair, "She was poisoned. It took awhile but we found the old hag. One of her maids finally confessed as to where the old woman might be found. She was with child…and being who she was she sought out this woman who shared her heritage, looking for something to ease her sickness, every morning she was stricken with sickness. She took the potion and it ended up killing her."
"My God, man…" Jack responded.
"We hung the old woman." He turned away ashamed to look at Jack. "A few weeks later the same maid came to me telling me she couldn’t carry the secret any longer. Madam was with child and did not want the child, the old woman’s potion was only to rid her of the child, not to kill her. Madam took too much of the draught aiming to make a good job of it. It wasn’t for sickness at all.
" I only knew that she was sick, very sick and we sent for the doctor; being the blood letters that they are, he bled her and gave her laudanum to ease her pain. It took her a week to die.
"I am so very sorry to burden you with this, I see no one, talk to no one…who could I tell such a tale too?" Jean sat heavily into his chair and brought the tumbler to his lips.
"It is a terrible burden for anyone to carry. Do you believe she did not want the child?"
"Oh yes I can believe that…Richard, our son but I’m sure you knew of his deformity , Catty would have told you. She was afraid the next child would have two clubbed feet…she said many times she did not want to risk another child and so we had no more. This one that lost its life along with her was an accident."
Henry sat quietly occasionally sipping his lemonade and watching and listening with furrowed brow to the man he knew was his natural father. It was not his place to enter into the conversation unless addressed directly. He studied the man’s movements, his manner and appearance. Surely the man was verging on dissipation; his hand unsteady on the glass. His accent reminded Henry of his mother, he hadn’t listened to that cadence since she died.
He glanced around the room, she had lived here for six years he wondered had it changed much since she had been there. His attention brought back, he’s been spoken to.
"It’s quite all right Sir, we have suffered loss too."
"He is your son then, yours and Catty’s?" Jean spoke to Jack with a little half smile he glanced at Henry.
Henry said nothing in reply.
"Where is your son then, Richard you called him?" Jack answered back with a question.
"Yes, we named him for my father…he’s at Greenlees. He prefers to live there on his own and it suits both of us."
"Greenlees was my mother’s house." Henry spoke and immediately blushed.
"Yes, it was," Jean answered. "I cared very much for your mother, she lived here for six years you know when she was married to my brother, Henri. We were great friends."
"But not lovers," Henry spoke holding the man’s eye.
"No…never lovers. I had discovered her half sister while Henri was still alive. Do you know…she was forced to marry me?"
"Yes, Sir. I know everything."
Jack sat back in his chair listening and particularly watching Henry.
Jean smiled, "then you know of the great switch they made the day she was to come here to live."
"Yes…and now I know that Catherine Latrouix lies buried in two different countries. I think, Sir this needs to be rectified," he looked at his Papa.
Jack clarified, "In England she is buried as Catherine Lewis Latrouix Aubrey but of course we could not marry, still she presented herself as my wife with my approval. It was as much for her protection as it was for Henry’s."
"You would ask that I change her marker?" Jean looked incrediously at Henry.
"She was in fact Judith Lewis."
"Richard is not aware of any of this, he does not know of his mixed heritage, it would…I’m afraid it would destroy him. It’s out of the question, who would ever see the two markers and compare…no one but us."
"My mother was a Latrouix by marriage and is buried in the Latrouix plot in Hawfield Village."
"I know it very well, my uncle is buried there. I inherited the property from him as he was without child or heir. I gave it to your mother along with a generous amount of money to see her along. She was eager to go to England and start a new life."
"She hadn’t any choice did she, having given her identity to her sister she didn’t exist. Greenlees was her home she often spoke of the islands to me. It pained her greatly to leave but she’d given everything away for the love of her sister and her affection for you."
"You are defending her young man and no attack has been made upon your mother. Do I detect anger…what is this about Jack?"
"He has reached his majority of late and received a package that I held in trust for him from his mother."
"I am sorry if my manner suggests anger for I am not angry with you , Sir. It is the whole bloody deceitful mess."
"Henry, you forget yourself." Jack admonished him for his speech.
"I apologize again if I have offended."
"Not at all," Jean replied, "we are all gentlemen here." He looked with interest at Henry, surely he was a gentleman of the first class. He liked his bearing…military of course but still it gave him an air. An officer on his way up, he reminded him of Jack though not in looks. He had a seaman’s complexion, darkly tanned which made his gray eyes shine and flash. Something about his brow there was Lewis in him without a doubt. He had a familiar look to him he couldn’t place. Briefly he compared him to his son Richard…and sighed.
"You say you have just reached your majority, surely Catty must have been with child when Judith was there funny she never mentioned it. I think something happened between the sisters for she never spoke of her once we were home."
Jack glanced at Henry who was studying the pattern of the rug on the floor.
"Well I shall have you to dinner if you’ll come…it’s been good talking with you, Jack. I’ll have Richard over, we’ll make it a men’s foursome…unless you have a lady Lt. Aubrey?" Jean smiled.
Henry blushed again, "No sir…not here." Which brought Jack’s head around his direction.
"We will be delighted to come to dinner, Jean thank you very much for seeing us on such short notice."
Jean rose and walked them to the door, "I know I should resume life, get out and make the rounds but I find it very hard going."
"I understand completely," Jack said sympathetically.
"I’ll send a boy ‘round with the invitation are you at the Tradewinds Inn?"
Part 3
"What did you make of him?" Jack asked as they rode down the winding road away from Latrouix.
Henry, quiet for a moment giving it some thought, "He is a man greatly wounded, Sir. I have seen such men come back stronger after a grievous wound and some fade away, never quite the same…the strength never returning in quite the same force."
Jack thought that very perceptive of Henry. "He has had no one but himself for company, I say if weren’t for Dr. Maturin after your mother died I’m not sure I would have rose again with sword in hand."
"I wonder about his son then, Richard. What kind of a son could he be to let his father flounder this way drowning in his misery all alone." He gazed out of the window of the carriage, "But for all that he is not an unpleasant character, there is humor in him."
"Indeed I found him very good company during the time I was here." Jack shifted slightly in his seat, "What will you do?"
"I’m not sure yet, so far I see no need to expose myself. There is nothing here, Papa, nothing that speaks to me…nothing I would carry away with me. Jean Latrouix is only a man I met today…" but that wasn’t quite true, had it only been pity? "I am curious to meet Richard of course, to see what kind of man he is."
That opportunity came two days later with an invitation to dinner at Greenlees. Richard had been somewhat put out at his father’s high handed invitations to what he considered his house. Jean had gone over to inform him of the coming event and found his son in disarray as well as his house. It was soon put to rights and the young lady in question sent away.
Jean thought it would be nice for Henry Aubrey to see where his mother grew up and so invited the party to Greenlees. The property was still his by rights. Richard had removed himself from his father’s house after his mother died. Jean had been in such a state he hardly noticed Richard’s absence. He meant to keep the property up to keep it as it was in James Lewis’s day and so after a while he agreed it was a good idea for Richard to live there, better than having it stand empty. Now he wasn’t so sure, the boy had no sense of decency as far as he could see, openly flaunting girls of every color in and out his door and through the town.
Richard stood on the upper veranda looking out to sea. He’d taken Catty’s old room as his own mainly for the view, the outside stairway and the cross breezes created by opening all the windows in the room. He was slight in build and only grew to be 5’2. He wore a specially made boot on his deformed foot and walked with a noticeable limp. His hair though abundant was a non-descript brown and blew now across his brow obscuring his blue eyes. He saw sails on the horizon and wished he was on it going somewhere, anywhere…place didn’t matter it was the going away.
He loved his father as much as Richard could love anybody. His father had always been kind to him…the only one who never made anything of his foot. He looked down into the garden and thought of his mother. She had never as far back as he could remember cared anything about him, never loved him though she put on a show for his father when he was around. It became very obvious as he grew older and noticed things. Now his father was a shell of himself, more interested in a bottle than him or anything for that matter.
He sighed, pulled out his watch and check the time. Time to go down and make welcome people he didn’t know or care to know. Friends of his father’s from way back, sailors; that’s all he needed.
Jack had the carriage pause so that Henry could get a look at the place from the drive before it tumbled around to the house it’s self.
"Greenlees, somehow I thought it would be green, it looks…dead."
"I remember the gardens were well kept in your grandfather’s day, they do seem to have gone off."
"No woman," Henry said under his breath.
"What’s that?"
"I said there is no woman about the place, a woman would never let her gardens get into such a state of despair."
Jack chuckled, "I suppose that is true…no woman about the place since Catty left for I don’t think Jean ever lived there." He tapped the side of the carriage and it brought them to the front door.
Jean walked out to greet them, Richard remained on the top step.
"Hello again you old salt," Jean clapped Jack on the shoulder and shook his hand.
"We’ve come and brought our appetites," Jack smiled and stood aside while Henry climbed from the carriage.
"Mr. Latrouix," he shook Jean’s hand.
"Good to see you Lt. Aubrey," he turned toward the steps eying Richard who stepped down and walked over slowly. "This is my son, Richard."
"How do you do Sir’s" he bowed slightly from the wait.
"We do very well, thank you for having us." Jack answered.
Richard hadn’t looked directly at Henry so he made no response, he took in the gimpy leg, the man’s height and his color, flushed from some exertion he supposed. He thought of Dru his nursemaid, yes Richard had her hair and ruddy complexion. He almost felt guilty because he knew who these people really were, almost.
Dinner went well and except for one remark made by Richard who’d been staring across the table at Henry and then looking at his father. "He looks like you," Richard looked directly at Jean.
Jean laughed it off, "he looks like his mother, good looks run in her family."
"Oh really, well what happened to me then?"
Henry made a sound in his throat and picked up his wine glass quickly. Jack gave him a sharp look.
"If you’re through why don’t you take Henry around, I’m sure he’d like to see the house and grounds where his mother once lived."
"Oh that’s right send the children out to play," Richard refilled his glass and pushed away from the table, "come along then, Lt. Aubrey."
"Why don’t you just call me Henry."
"I could, that uniform is off putting though it needs a title." They walked out of the front door and around the house. "I suppose you followed your father into service."
"Yes I did much to his dismay I joined when I was ten."
"TEN! You were still a child…"
"Not really…my mother died when I was nine and my father spent much of his time at sea there was no one left…and I was facing boarding school. Rather than go away to school I opted for the Navy and as we were at war at the time I got in two years early."
"Hmm, I don’t think I could stand it…someone telling me what to do all the time, rules and regs to follow."
"I’m not sure boarding school would have been much different as far as rules and regs but a damn sight more boring."
Richard stopped at the edge of the garden and sat in a swing. Henry took the other swing and moved it slightly to and fro. "What do you do are you a planter?"
"I’m a planter’s son…therefore I do nothing of any merit, waiting for my turn…just waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"My father to pass on, there’s nothing else, Henry. Oh there’s wenches and drinking enough, card playing and gambling. You see I make no decisions unlike you who have gained a leg up, there’s only one leg up for me and I fear I may be dangling on a lower rung for a long time. Not that I wish him dead or anything, oh dear me no. You spoke of boredom…well."
"Why don’t you leave the island?"
"And do what? Oh I know I can wench and drink in another country."
"Ah, there’s more to it than that."
Richard looked at him a moment, "For you but not for me, you are tall and whole. Do you know I stopped growing at the age of twelve…yes never grew another inch. There was an old slave woman named Luce she looked after me, raised me really but she told me it was because I was marked by the devil, meaning my bum leg, I was born with it. Maybe she had it right."
"You believed that shite?"
"A lot of strange things happen here…I understand our mother’s were sisters?"
Henry smiled but didn’t comment.
"That makes us cousins. I never had a cousin never had anyone but father, now I’m afraid I’m losing him. He won’t let her go you know, still has her things in the drawers of his room as though he expects her to come back. Maybe she does Luce says he calls her at night and she comes to him."
Henry frowned, "that’s not healthy."
"No indeed it’s not…that’s why I moved over here to Greenlees, whatever it was I didn’t want any part of it. I especially didn’t want her coming back."
"Your mother…didn’t you love her?"
"No but then she never loved me she never loved anybody except father. That’s the truth, she was beautiful only for him. I wasn’t allowed to touch her."
"I’m sorry you had such an unhappy childhood," and he was thankful it hadn’t been him that Judith had taken that day.
"Father tells me we are the same age, I’ve just had my twenty-first too. He’s in the process of making Greenlees over to me."
Henry looked around sharply, "Is he now…well."
"Thing is I’d rather have the money. He doesn’t see or won’t see what’s coming. In the next fifteen to twenty years there won’t be a slave left on Grenada. There will be no more plantation life as we know it. Already they are revolting and we are outnumbered three to one. Over on St. Kitts there was a bloody to do. I’ve told him…told him we need to sell up, keep the house if he wants to but sell the land other planters are going that route already, plenty boys over in England looking to come out here. No one can afford this kind of life nowadays unless you’re born to it and then like I said…it’s coming to an end. Over at Garden Heights he’s cut his land into plots and sold them off made a good bit of money too. He sees it coming. He’s going to America and buy into it again."
"What would you do if you had the money?"
"Well, I’d get on the first ship out of here and go wherever it took me. I saw a ship earlier this evening on the horizon and I wished myself upon it but alas I’m still here."
"I abhor slavery, you wouldn’t buy into it again would you?"
"Not bloody likely, no I’d go to England or France since we’re at peace now, maybe Italy. A gentleman can live quite nicely on little money or so I’ve been told. You meet an array of people in the town and they all can’t be liars."
Henry looked thought fully out to sea, multicolored now with the sunset. "What if there was a way to make that happen for you…"
"I’d get down on my knees if it wasn’t such a bother to get up and thank the gods of mercy. I don’t know how much longer father will live he may live another twenty or thirty years or more and all that while I shall be waiting…waiting to sell up and leave if the emancipation doesn’t beat me to it and kill us all in our beds. For he will never sell, this he has told me. He says he gave away property once and will never again part with a handful of soil. He will advance me land to plant upon but it will not be mine to sell that’s the process he’s trying to get written now. Greenlees and four hundred acres plus one hundred slaves mine to use…use mind you."
It didn’t seem fair to Henry, not fair at all. Richard was trapped. He had been prepared not to like Richard but he’d changed his mind. His life had not been an easy one and his future here looked rather bleak. A plan began to form in the back of his mind.
TBC
