She read aloud pa.s.sages from at least a dozen letters. I could almost see Miss Martha's mother-an imposing woman, I imagined-writing from her own desk back in Philadelphia. She wrote of social events and of how Miss Martha's girlhood friends had married and were now taking part in glamorous affairs. Her mother voiced a parent's concern for her daughter and advised her to care for her health. She sympathized with Miss Martha in her loneliness yet reminded her that she had made the choice to leave. Miss Martha stopped reading and gazed out the window.

"Why did you want to come here?" I asked.

She laughed a little, as though at a private joke. She reached into the desk to withdraw a small book. From inside the book she pulled out a yellowed newspaper clipping. She read it as much to herself as to me. It told of a beautiful young woman, Miss Martha Blake, marrying Captain James Pyke, forty years of age, a successful merchant and owner of a ship. They were to reside at Tall Oaks, a tobacco-growing plantation in southern Virginia. The article stated that Miss Martha, being herself of vibrant nature, was certain to be the perfect mate for this ill.u.s.trious and adventuresome man. merchant and owner of a ship. They were to reside at Tall Oaks, a tobacco-growing plantation in southern Virginia. The article stated that Miss Martha, being herself of vibrant nature, was certain to be the perfect mate for this ill.u.s.trious and adventuresome man.

"Was that about you?" I asked. It was difficult for me to believe that the glowing article, referencing a vibrant woman, was about her.

"Yes. I was young and foolish," she said. "I was not yet twenty. I thought that this would be an adventure. I had no idea what awaited me here. I had images of myself as a country gentlewoman, one who would have large numbers of servants to a.s.sist me when I gave my country b.a.l.l.s. I imagined I would be busy planning these events while waiting for my husband to return from his trips. I thought that if I became lonely, I had only to travel back to Philadelphia or make an exciting trip to Williamsburg to visit my sister. But that was not to be." She was silent again.

"What happened?" I could not contain the question.

"When I arrived and saw this house, how isolated we were, I wanted only to return to Philadelphia. I thought that I had made the wrong choice, even perhaps that I had married the wrong man. But James was so charming, so rea.s.suring, and he promised that soon he would sell his ship and settle his business affairs to be here with me. But the years have pa.s.sed..." She stopped herself.

"Don't you have any friends here?" I asked, wanting to interject some hope.

"The nearest neighbor is a bachelor of many years, and he lives in a most unsuitable manner with... one of his servants." She shook her head as though to clear it of the thought. "I cannot travel without a male escort, and I cannot travel with a man"-she hesitated, then looked at me-"who is not of our color. It is simply not permitted for a woman to do so. That leaves me to travel with our Mr. Rankin, and I am sure you are old enough to know why that speaks for itself."

"You have Mama Mae and Belle and Dory," I said. "They are your friends."

She checked the door, then looked back at me. She spoke quietly. "They are not my friends," she said. "They are my servants. They look out for themselves. Mae knows that her eldest daughter consorts with my husband, although she denies it. You are young, but surely you understand. Almost from the beginning, I suspected their secrets."

Though I was unclear of her meaning, I began to offer rea.s.surance of Belle's loyalty to her, but she quickly interrupted. "Don't speak to me of her!" Immediately, she saw the effect of her sharp words and patted my hand. "You will understand one day, my dear. I know I am foolish to speak to a child of these matters, but I am so lonely that some days I feel I shall die of it."

"Can't you go to see your sister?" I asked.

She shook her head and sighed. "I haven't been strong enough. Marshall was born a year after we married. In the following years I had other babies who... didn't survive. I couldn't seem to recover my health, although I was getting so much stronger just before Sally..." She paled as the memory hit, then closed her eyes as though to ward off the grief.

"Should I get Mama?" I asked.

She shook her head, then opened her eyes.

"What did you do when you were a little girl?" I asked quickly, incorporating another of Mama's techniques to lead the conversation away from a dangerous subject.

Miss Martha remained quiet as she carefully folded the newspaper article and returned it to the book before replacing it in the desk drawer. She folded the letters and began to retie them, and I wondered if she had heard my question. "Can you hold your finger here?" she asked, indicating the fold in the ribbon.

I carefully placed my thumb in position as she tied a beautiful bow. She held the packet in her lap and lightly fingered the ribbon as she spoke. "When I was a young girl in Philadelphia, one of my greatest pleasures was to accompany my sisters to the city market. Sarah, Isabelle, and I often went out. Of course, we had our maids following us, but what adventures we had. City life was wonderful, Isabelle. There were restaurants!" She looked at me with shining eyes. "Every Sunday afternoon after church service, our father would take our family to a restaurant. What a fuss they made over us, although we sisters already knew that we were quite pretty." She stopped to remember. "How I miss those Sundays." Isabelle. There were restaurants!" She looked at me with shining eyes. "Every Sunday afternoon after church service, our father would take our family to a restaurant. What a fuss they made over us, although we sisters already knew that we were quite pretty." She stopped to remember. "How I miss those Sundays."

"Why?" I asked, afraid her storytelling would end.

"There was a church, Isabelle, its steeple so high I do believe that it was the most prominent feature in Philadelphia at that time. On Sunday mornings we would dress in our finest and walk to that Anglican Christ church. We always walked together as a family. How I long to attend a church service again."

"Don't they have churches here?" I asked, sure I had heard Mama speak of one.

"It's Presbyterian," she said, as though that were an answer she needn't explain.

I could see she was tired so I didn't ask her to relieve my confusion.

ONE GRAY AFTERNOON AFTER IT had been raining for two days, Miss Martha sat at the harpsichord, which she then began to play. When she finished, she turned to smile apologetically. "I'm afraid I don't play very well." had been raining for two days, Miss Martha sat at the harpsichord, which she then began to play. When she finished, she turned to smile apologetically. "I'm afraid I don't play very well."

I'd been captivated and a.s.sured her that the music was beautiful.

She grew sober with her next words. "I don't play often because it makes me feel too lonely."

I understood, for when she began another melody, I felt the loneliness as each note pulsed and echoed throughout the beautifully furnished but empty room.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Belle

WE'RE ALL WORKING ON A story for the cap'n. We go over and over the way it happened, then we go over and over the way we're gonna say it happened. Papa's wanting to tell the cap'n the truth, but Mama says he's forgetting that Waters was a white man, and if we tell the truth, for sure they'll hang Ben. First time ever, I see Mama Mae and Papa George not standing together. story for the cap'n. We go over and over the way it happened, then we go over and over the way we're gonna say it happened. Papa's wanting to tell the cap'n the truth, but Mama says he's forgetting that Waters was a white man, and if we tell the truth, for sure they'll hang Ben. First time ever, I see Mama Mae and Papa George not standing together.

Everybody's scared of Rankin. Ever since he went up to the big house and Miss Martha talk smart to him, Ida says he's. .h.i.tting on them like never before. He knows something's up about Waters, but n.o.body's talking, and that's making him mad. Then, too, he got it in for me since that night when I give him the whiskey and he don't get to me. Now every morning he comes here to the kitchen house.

When I tell him that I don't think the cap'n means for him to bother me, fire like to shoot outta his eyes. He says he's running the place for the cap'n and that he's watching out for Ben and me, just like the cap'n tell him to. Then he stands there smiling, just watching me. All the time I'm wondering how much room there's left in that privy.

And Ben, instead of being scared from doing Waters in, now it's like he's thinking he's a man that can do anything. He's taking too many chances. Last night Ben finds me when I'm working at the storage room in the bas.e.m.e.nt up at the big house. I was pouring brandy on the cakes for Christmas when he slips in and closes the door. I say, "Benny, you best get out of here!," but he says, "Rankin sleepin' from the liquor." Then he asks, real quiet, "Belle, you don't care about me no more?"

My feet, by their own self, want to run to him, but I stay put. "No, I still like you, Benny, but in summer the cap'n's gonna take me away to Philadelphia."

Ben comes over to me. His eyes take me in, and I know I can't stop myself if he touches me. "Belle," he says, then goes to kiss me, but Uncle Jacob come in the door just in time. Uncle gives me the eye, but I say, "Benny's here, just making sure that everything's all right." After Benny leaves, Uncle says, "You wantin' that boy dead?" "No!" I say, but Uncle says, "This whole thing on you, Belle. Somethin' happen to Ben, Mae and George, they gonna blame you."

I know I got to keep Ben away, but I'd just as soon cut off my hand.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Lavinia

IN THE LAST WEEKS BEFORE Christmas, Miss Martha went repeatedly to the windows and looked out expectantly for the captain's wagon. Each day Mama rea.s.sured her, "He comin' soon. You put on the good dress today so you look like that pretty girl he marry." Christmas, Miss Martha went repeatedly to the windows and looked out expectantly for the captain's wagon. Each day Mama rea.s.sured her, "He comin' soon. You put on the good dress today so you look like that pretty girl he marry."

One morning when Dory was upstairs with the babies and Beattie and I were downstairs helping Miss Martha put holly and cedar greens over the parlor mantel, Mama burst through the doors. "The patrollers here, and they takin' Jimmy!" she said, gasping for breath.

"Mae, for heaven's sake!" Miss Martha exclaimed. "You frightened me."

"The patrollers!" Mama repeated. "They here, down at the barns, and now they goin' to the kitchen house. They say they lookin' for that man Waters. They beatin' on Jimmy! They say he know somethin' and they takin' him." Mama was frantic. "Rankin say next they takin' Ben!"

Miss Martha tossed down the greens, then called out for Uncle Jacob as she went for the gun case that stood in the library. "Here, take this," she said, handing a pistol to Uncle Jacob, then taking another from the case. Her hands shook as she loaded it, but it was evident that she was familiar with the workings of a gun. She stepped out the back door into the bright cold day with Mama and Uncle on either side. No one noticed that Beattie and I followed. Horses were saddled and tied beside the kitchen house, where our small party headed. Papa was in back of the kitchen house, loosing an ax from a wood stump.

"You won't need that, George. Come, take this and stand with me," Miss Martha said, handing him the pistol that Uncle carried. They rounded the house together. Jimmy's hands were tied to the saddle of a bay; his head leaned against the horse's flank, and I looked away when I saw his bleeding back.

Papa spoke low as he pa.s.sed him. "You hold on, son."

Shouts and laughter came from inside the kitchen, and it didn't take long for us to see why. Four men, one of them Rankin, stood in a circle. They were tossing Belle, sending her spinning, one to the other. In a corner of the kitchen, Ben thrashed about on his stomach, his hands and feet tied together and his mouth gagged. f.a.n.n.y, crying and trembling, crouched next to him.

"Who's gonna talk first?" one of the patrollers asked.

Rankin laughed roughly, catching Belle and holding her to him. "What are we gonna have to do to this little gal to make that boy on the floor talk?" Marshall watched, his eyes excited. Another man, standing opposite the room from Ben, was not part of the circle. Younger than the others, he looked unsettled by the game.

The blast from Miss Martha's pistol stopped everything.

"Gentlemen," she said to no one in particular. "Now that I have your attention, I want to a.s.sure you I can use a pistol more precisely than I have just done." She paused to look up at the splintered ceiling. "Goodness, I've blown a hole into my own kitchen!" Turning to Papa, she said, "George, I'm afraid that I've added to your work." She looked back at her stunned audience, then asked, "Would someone be kind enough to tell me the meaning of this?"

Rankin swaggered toward her. "Well now, Miss Martha, these law-abidin' citizens have come to inform us that the horse Mr. Waters rode out on was found over in Buckingham County. Since Mr. Waters has yet to be found, they were thinking that someone here might have information that they haven't seen fit to tell."

Miss Martha stared coldly at Rankin, then turned her gaze to the other men in the room. "I'm afraid that you gentlemen have been misinformed. The matter of Mr. Waters's departure is waiting to be settled until my husband's return. Mr. Rankin has no business up here. He is employed to keep order in the fields, where utilizing some of this treatment"-she looked down at Ben, then up again-"might be necessary. It is, however, unnecessary to do so with my house servants." She looked at Belle. "You are aware that you are toying with one of the captain's most prized possessions?" Frost hung from her words. to be settled until my husband's return. Mr. Rankin has no business up here. He is employed to keep order in the fields, where utilizing some of this treatment"-she looked down at Ben, then up again-"might be necessary. It is, however, unnecessary to do so with my house servants." She looked at Belle. "You are aware that you are toying with one of the captain's most prized possessions?" Frost hung from her words.

"She's just a wh.o.r.e, Mother," Marshall called out.

If Miss Martha was surprised at his outburst, she did not show it. "Yes, Marshall, that she is," Miss Martha said, "but she's your daddy's wh.o.r.e, and heaven help the man who forgets that."

The men stared at her, their startled eyes reminding me of the peac.o.c.k dinner plates.

"Gentlemen," she addressed them, "I appreciate the fact that you are all such law-abiding citizens. However, now I'm asking you to leave my property. I expect you to untie the boy outside and leave him to me."

The young man from the corner stepped forward, removed his hat, and ran his hand through his straight dark brown hair. "We do apologize for disrupting your day, Mrs. Pyke. It appears that we've been misinformed."

The others glared at him. "This is a matter for the law," one of them mumbled.

"And what is your name, sir?" Miss Martha addressed the young man who had apologized to her.

"It's, ah... Stephens," he stammered. "Will Stephens."

"Stephens?" she said. "That is a familiar name. Does the captain know your daddy?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, fingering his hat. "We rent the property from the captain down the east side."

"Don't tell me you're the little boy who helped us out here at the barns the year that Marshall was born?" she asked, her voice taking on a lilt.

His face flushed. "Yes, ma'am. One and the same."

"My goodness! You've grown up," she said. "It makes me feel so much better knowing that I have you watching out for us up on the hill. And you tell your daddy I said that, won't you?"

He a.s.sured her that he would.

When Rankin made his exit, the others quickly left with him. Papa remained at Miss Martha's side when she followed. As the others rode off, Rankin headed toward the quarters.

Miss Martha's voice caught him. "Mr. Rankin."

He turned back.

"I don't want you to worry about a thing up here," she said. "My house servants will be armed." She indicated Papa standing to her side with the pistol. "I expect they'll be nervous from this excitement. I do hope that my sleep will not be interrupted by the sound of gunfire, but they shall be encouraged to use the firearms should they suspect an intruder on the grounds of the big house."

Rankin's face darkened, but he said nothing as he turned back toward the quarters. To my surprise, Marshall ran to follow Rankin, but his mother called him back. For a moment it looked as though he was going to disobey, but when she called again, Marshall kicked the dirt and ran up toward the big house.

"I need to sit." Miss Martha had suddenly lost all her color. Mama reached for her and supported her into the kitchen, where Uncle was helping Ben to his feet. Once free, Ben rushed out the door. Belle, leaning on the table, struck it over and over again with the flat of her hand. From outside, Papa called for Mama to come help with Jimmy. Uncle Jacob seated Miss Martha before he went to Belle.

"Belle," he said, placing a hand on her arm and speaking firmly, "Jimmy out there needin' help. Come now."

"It's fortunate that no one was hurt," Miss Martha said.

Belle swung toward her, eyes blazing. Uncle stepped between them. "Miss Martha, we best get you back up to the big house. Mae and George take care of everythin' down here. If the cap'n come home, he want you up there waitin' for him. Come, I take you back." He extended his elbow, and Miss Martha rose to take his arm. Uncle signaled with his eyes for me to follow. I didn't want to go; I was scared and I wanted to stay with Belle. I wondered where Ben was and if he was all right. I could not erase the look I had seen on his face when he lay bound, unable to help Belle. arm. Uncle signaled with his eyes for me to follow. I didn't want to go; I was scared and I wanted to stay with Belle. I wondered where Ben was and if he was all right. I could not erase the look I had seen on his face when he lay bound, unable to help Belle.

In spite of my reluctance, I was obedient, but when our small party had almost reached the big house, we heard m.u.f.fled crashes coming from behind us. It sounded as though pots were being hurtled against the kitchen house wall.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Belle

EVERYBODY'S FULL OF NERVES. E EVERY day now we're all waiting on the cap'n to get home. Since Rankin and the men showed up here in the kitchen house, Ben don't come to see me no more. It's better this way, but I think he stays away because he shamed hisself. The day Rankin was throwing me around, Ben run out of here stinking like a privy. It's not his fault. After they take his ear, I know how scared he's got to be. That day here in the kitchen house, there was nothing Ben could do, I know that. But he's a man, and maybe he don't see it that way. day now we're all waiting on the cap'n to get home. Since Rankin and the men showed up here in the kitchen house, Ben don't come to see me no more. It's better this way, but I think he stays away because he shamed hisself. The day Rankin was throwing me around, Ben run out of here stinking like a privy. It's not his fault. After they take his ear, I know how scared he's got to be. That day here in the kitchen house, there was nothing Ben could do, I know that. But he's a man, and maybe he don't see it that way.

Everybody's stepping real careful. Rankin's just looking for something to get ahold of.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN