The Immortal American (The Immortal American Series) (6 page)

“At the moment my country is aligning itself to be a source of power and money for your colony, all the American colonies to be precise; therefore, one might incur that I am a spy for both my country
and
your colony.”

He glanced back at me. Then looked again. His eyes sparked with a blue, blue fire. The stone visage he wore cracked and dismantled completely as he took in two sharp breaths. “I know I don’t deserve it, being the kind of man I am. But now you know almost everything there is to me. And you promised me . . . more than I have given to others. But I will never tell another soul your confession regarding your sister’s officer. I will find all I can on the man. I promise. I will give to you . . . what you give to me.” He cleared his throat. Still, his voice was quiet when he asked, “Now that we are confidants, may I call you Violet when we are in private?”

I couldn’t answer immediately. My heart had stopped and restarted a million times over as he’d spoken. Just as his dark eyebrows furrowed I could finally spit out, “Yes . . .
oui
.” I bit my bottom lip while he smiled at my use of his language.

He softly chuckled and caught a stray strand of my black hair out of my eyes. He smoothed it behind my ear, then skimmed my earlobe delicately. No, that had to have been my imagination. All of it had to be my mind running wild, except, of course, for my now thunderously racing heart, trembling body, and skin so tight I wondered if would burst off me.

His jaw twitched with fast movement, as if kicking at a thought. His pine and leather scent waved into me.

“I have something more I need to confess to you,” I whispered.

His nose flared and he slowly nodded.

I swallowed. “I—I—I don’t know which name you would prefer to be called. You have so many—André Marie Jean Jacque.”

He blinked, swayed, then began to laugh. “Jacque, you may call me Jacque.”

“Jacque, it is then.”

His smile disappeared, but he said animatedly, “I like how you say my name, like
Jack
.”

I looked down at our joined hands. Surely that was a dream. It felt too wonderful to be anything real.

When I looked back up at him, his eyes were so lucid, yet still such a dark blue, I did wonder about my sanity. His breath was rapid, and his eyes kept bouncing down to my lips. Yes, I was merely dreaming. I had to be!

“Yes,” I said breathlessly.

His black brows drew down in confusion.

“Yes,” I continued, “I, er, my family and I would love to go to the opera with you.”

He laughed and withdrew his hands from mine, and I’d never felt so cold in all my life.

The day before we were to go to Boston, Hannah cornered me in one of the horses’ stalls after I finished changing the straw.

I was pushing the yellow blades of barley stalks in a corner with a pitchfork when I turned and my sister stood over me, her eyes bright and blue. I screeched, but she merely held onto my arm’s shirtsleeves and shook her head.

“When are you going to pack?” she asked intently.

“I’ve packed already.”

Hannah looked reprovingly at me. “We’ll be at the opera. You didn’t pack any decent dress for the opera.”

“How would you know that, little sneak?”

“Who are you calling little, tiny mouse?”

“You aren’t that much taller than I.” I smiled up at her one or two, mayhap as many as three inches of height she had over me.

Hannah cracked a smile through her chiding. Finally, she let a bust of giggles come out. “I . . . I’ve made you a dress for the opera.”

“Ah, that’s awfully nice of you.”

“I know it is.”

“I’m glad you know, and you’re so humble too.”

Hannah shrugged, playacting being affronted. “Well, of course I do know how nice and generous it was of me to make you a dress, especially when these last few weeks you’ve been too busy to talk to me. You only run about the countryside when you aren’t working the farm.”

I grimaced. “Oh, that . . .”

“Yes, that. Don’t think Mother and I haven’t noticed that you haven’t been in the house except for when you sleep at night. Also, you have no appetite. If you weren’t constantly smiling and glowing like gold, then I’d worry. Mother thinks that you and Mathew are meeting in secret and working toward breaking your chastity.”

I shook my head. “I’m not!”  But then I realized I should have agreed to meeting Mathew in secret for, surely, my sister would ask why I was apparently so happy as of late. I cleared my throat, thinking of some excuse. “I just love spring, seeing all the wild flowers in bloom, the animals stirring from their hibernation . . .” I waved my hand around my head like an adorable squirrel was there, stretching and yawning from its winter’s sleep.

Hannah let her blonde eyebrows sink in suspicion, but then she shook her head and looked even more cross at me. “What my point is, you haven’t been around enough to notice that others in this household are just as joyful as you.”

I frowned and thought of Mother. She’d just bickered with Hannah about a wild strawberry jam this morning, so I knew my mother wasn’t the culprit Hannah was describing. Then, I looked back up to Hannah who held up her left hand beside her cherry-hued cheek, displaying a tiny diamond in a thick gold band—at least the band and the chip of a gem appeared to be real–on her third finger.

“Oh my . . .” I whispered.

Hannah flew into a fit of little jumps as her hands clutched my arms. “I’m getting married too!”

I couldn’t breathe. The world began to spin too fast.

“Tomorrow, when we get to Boston, my Mark will meet us. I’ve written Monsieur Beaumont and Mathew, who both extended the invitation to Mark. So, he’s coming to the opera with us! You’ll get to meet him, finally! I can hardly believe it that I’m getting married soon.”

I plastered a smile into place and nodded. “Oh my, how . . . grand is this? My sister is getting married. Oh my . . . oh my . . .”

“I know. I haven’t told mother yet. And you know her, she hasn’t noticed the ring.”

I sincerely doubted Mother hadn’t noticed. Knowing my mother, she was biding her time until Hannah broke the news to her. Mother, like my Da, had always given my sister and I enough privacy to grow, and enough room to make many a mistake as well.

Hannah’s smile was wider than I’d ever seen it. “I’ve talked to Mark about our having a double ceremony—”

“Talked?”

“Well, wrote, to be more precise, like we always do, but as I was saying Mark is so wonderful. He wrote back saying whatever pleased me would make him the happiest of men, and it would make me so blissful to be married at the same time you and Mathew pledge your vows. Would you consider it, Vi? I know you weren’t planning on getting married soon, but I’d like to. I want to get married in June, maybe even April.”

I nodded. My head felt like it might spring off my neck. “Of course, I’ll think about it. Of course. My goodness . . . my heavens, this is exciting.”

“Oh, won’t this be the most amazing event in our lives? We can be married women together. We could have children at the same time. Can you just imagine that?”

I did, and I had. I wanted Hannah and myself to be married and have children around the same time. It was our childhood dream, even if she was younger than I. But the hope was that I’d wait for her to find her husband, then we’d have our families together.

Mathew had asked me for years to
se fiancer
. When I finally said yes to his proposal, I’d done so realizing his eyes were almost the same light blue hue as Hannah’s. I would have children that might look like my sister, and that was all I needed for affirmation that I was making a good decision regarding my marriage to Mathew. Certainly, he had been a friend of mine and my family’s since we were children, and his heart and dedication had won me over as well, but it was the warmth from his eyes, so like Hannah’s, that convinced me that my strategy for my life was a sound one.

But there was something amiss in Hannah’s engagement. Why hadn’t Lieutenant Kimball asked my mother for Hannah’s hand? Why hadn’t he met any of us in Hannah’s family? Why did I feel like my knees might buckle at any minute?

Hannah held me in a firm embrace. “Dinner is made, Vi. Come in and try to eat. You’ve been losing weight, darling-girl.”

I didn’t like that Hannah was calling me what our mother touted us, her darling-girls. But I kept my smile firmly in place and made it widen when Hannah released me from her hug.

“Please don’t tell Mother. I want Mark to say something to her when we get to Boston.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“Come. Eat.” Hannah began to stroll away from me with an enormous smile, and perhaps it was my cynical side that thought her grin was a tad silly.

I followed, not knowing a word to say, doubtful whether any of this new development would come to any good.

“Excited to see Boston?” Mr. Jones inquired after we’d all had supper.

Mr. Jones and I were sitting on some burlap bags of oats for Bess and the horses in the barn after dinner, taking turns drinking ale that Jacque had bought for Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones had made the mistake of helping Jacque in Concord when Jacque’s black steed had a thorn in the frog of its hoof. It was a mistake because now Mr. Jones had a small winery and enough ale and rum to start a tavern. I had snickered to myself when Mr. Jones had told me the story of how Jacque had bought him all the alcohol in thanks for the help. Ah, Jacque was generous and thoughtful and knowledgeable, and I shouldn’t be thinking about what else he was.

I shrugged after I sipped the fine cool ale down. “’Tis getting to be a big town, Boston is, but then again Concord is getting big too. I guess I’m excited to go on the trip, aye.”

I was lying. I hadn’t slept since I’d made the plans to go to Boston. Mayhap a wink here or there, but mostly I would lie in bed thinking of how I might be escorted down a walk on Monsieur Beaumont’s arm. I might take Mathew’s arm too. When I thought of that, I scolded myself for my absurd feelings.

“Thank you so much for taking care of the farm while we’re gone.”

Mr. Jones nodded and drank the rest of the bottle. He had another ale by his foot and uncorked it. His eyes were already glassy. I never knew him to be a drinker, but then again it did seem to be the kind of night when the alcohol fell into the pit of my stomach in a satisfying, sparkling way. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The only light that streamed through the open barn’s door was that of the evening’s peach and pink sunset. Bess and the bay mares were asleep in their bins, and the scent of a promising spring hung in the air, like the way the scent of daffodils can linger in my olfactory. I glanced at Mr. Jones and noticed that he was sweating; his eyes skipped all around the barn and his lips kept pursing and fidgeting.

“Everything all right, Mr. Jones?”

He nodded and smiled at me. The smile was altogether too large and slightly silly.

“Oh no, not you too.” I frowned.

He kept smiling but looked a little anxious. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Miss Buccleuch.”

“You’re getting married.” I stole the bottle from him and downed three cupfuls. I swallowed and looked upon his happy face.

“How’d you know? I suppose a man can’t hide the fact that he’s excited about getting married. Lord, but I am excited.”

I nodded and smiled on a sigh. “When’s the happy day, my friend?”

He took the bottle from me and swallowed more than a third of its contents. Finally, he turned to me, his eyes the roundest and saddest I’d ever seen on him. “I need a loan, Miss Buccleuch. My . . . the girl who I’m lookin’ to marry, she’s back in Virginia. I knew her from when I lived there. I promised her when I left, when I was taken from there up to Boston . . . before I knew your daddy would set me free . . . I made a promise, you see—”

I lay what I hoped to be a cool and calming hand on his warm brown one. “Tell me.”

He gave me a quick smile and patted my hand. But as I took my turn with the ale, Mr. Jones face fell. His voice was far off and gritty. “Her master just upped her price on her.”

“She’s a slave?”

He nodded. “Not many free black women round here. Not anywhere, now that I think upon it.”

I shook my head, handing the brew back to him. “I’m sorry for sounding so naive.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, being innocent of some things. Then again, some things need to be pushed in the light, made known, you know?”

“Yes . . . aye. My father had hoped that slavery would be abolished soon. It is an abomination.”

“Yes, I agree, but I was thinking upon something else. Besides I figure, in my mind, I’m paying for this beautiful girl like a dowry, you know? Like a prince does for a princess.”

My eyes instantly itched like I was about to cry. How could he turn something so ugly into a fairytale?

I nodded and smiled. “So, this loan—”

“I need fifty pounds. I know it’s a lot of money, but you know I’m good for paying it back.”