The Kitchen House (28 page)

That outburst was never mentioned again. And there was a second.

It was a Saturday-afternoon dinner, and we were celebrating Marshall’s nineteenth birthday. Because we had guests, Mr. Madden made available more than the usual amount of wine. This day Marshall partook liberally, and when his speech began to slur, I saw a look pass between the Maddens. Immediately, Miss Sarah declared the meal ended and quickly ushered us into the front parlor while Mr. Madden made an exit to his study.

Our guests, a young couple well known to the Maddens, accompanied us. The young lady, Miss Carrie Crater, and her twin brother, Mr. Henry Crater, had joined us for this celebratory
dinner. Following, we were to have a lesson in dance, to be taught by Mr. Degat and chaperoned by Miss Sarah. Miss Crater, seventeen, clearly found Marshall attractive. During the meal, as a means of gaining attention, she wondered aloud at my good fortune to be at this table. This comment appeared to set Marshall’s teeth on edge. As Miss Crater was a quick study, she noted how her statement had affected Marshall, and by the time we were set to dance she had wisely changed course.

Mr. Crater—Henry, as he insisted he be called—was an easygoing and likable character. Mr. Degat, who was to instruct us that day, was also to act as my dance partner. At the last minute he was unable to attend, although Mr. Alessi had come, ready to fiddle. I, without a partner, encouraged the others to take to the floor. Henry—I’m certain eager to impress Miss Sarah—insisted that I be his partner while his sister wait. Miss Crater, in an attempt to win favor in Marshall’s eye, quickly agreed to his plan. I objected, but Henry would have none of it. He came to convince me otherwise, taking my hand and playfully kissing it, pleading dramatically for my participation. In spite of the fact that I knew he was teasing, I became embarrassed, and my face went hot.

To everyone’s great surprise, Marshall leaped at Henry, picked him up by the collar, and thrust him against a wall. He did this with such force that poor Henry had the air knocked from him. The worst of it was, Marshall did not stop there. He leaned over Henry, now sprawled on the floor, and shouted, “Leave her alone! Do you hear? You do not touch her!”

By the time Miss Sarah reached Henry, Marshall had already exited the room. Mr. Alessi, a veteran of drama, began to fiddle. Over the music, brave Henry attempted good humor. “Mrs. Madden,” he asked, still slumped on the floor, “could you advise me on the correct protocol?”

For once, it seemed, Miss Sarah was without a ready reply. Though she quickly recovered and attempted to make light of the situation, I saw through her thin disguise at how shaken she was by her nephew’s outburst.

I did not know what to make of the event, but if it was ever discussed, I was not a party to the conversation. As it happened, my life took a sharp turn, and this incident quickly faded.

O
N A
T
UESDAY EVENING IN
the spring of 1800, two weeks before my sixteenth birthday, Mr. B. came for supper. I wondered if it was possible that he brought news of Cardigan. It was out of the ordinary for guests to join us during the week, never mind the evening meal, and the fact that little Molly was not at her father’s side further suggested something peculiar. Both of the Maddens were strangely subdued during the meal, and I, apprehensive, was quiet as well. Mr. B.’s behavior could not be judged, as he, at his best, said little.

That left Meg, but as this day she had finally received a long-awaited book, her goal was to complete the meal of cold ham and biscuits as quickly as possible so she might hurry off to her room. As the meal wore on, my stomach reacted, and by the time everyone had finished, I was afraid I would be sick. I was about to make my excuses when Miss Sarah suggested that I accompany Mr. B. to the front parlor. She would send coffee, she said. I forced back the nausea as I led the way. Once there, I sat on the green settee while the nervous man chose the wingback chair opposite me. He fidgeted with his coattails until I could stand it no longer. “Please…” I began, but he interrupted.

“I have found him,” he said, “but he is not alive.”

Had a sword been plunged into me, I would not have felt such pain. I cannot describe the depth of those words, nor how deeply they cut. I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe as I was made aware of the details. Cardigan had been indentured to a blacksmith not five miles from Williamsburg. Three years into service, while shoeing a horse, he had suffered an injury to the head and died shortly after.

My body grew damp with the effort of fighting to keep my supper down. My whole future had rested on our reunion. Cardigan had been the last of my true family; he had been my only hope.
Now I was completely alone. As my time in Williamsburg had passed, maturity had shown me the impossibility of returning to Tall Oaks. I had been forced to accept that I would not be reunited with my adopted family. Now my deep desire to reunite with my brother was gone as well.

How it was that Mr. B. came to hold me, I could not say, but I found myself in his arms as I gave way to despair. When my tears subsided, I rested my head back, and the man, in a kindly gesture, pushed my damp hair back from my face.

“What will I do?” I whispered.

Mr. B. was on his knee before I could understand the purpose.

“Marry me,” he implored.

Belle

I
N THE WINTER
I
GET
a letter from Lavinia saying that she looking to find her brother, Cardigan. He’s gonna come for her, and then she’ll send for me and Jamie. I take the letter and run to go find Benny down at the horse barn, cleaning out stalls.

“Hey, baby!” he says when he sees me. He looks around, but he knows we’re alone because Papa’s working at the big house with Uncle Jacob. He puts the rake down, walks over real slow, looks me up and down, takes my arm, and pulls me to hisself. He’s still wanting me like the first time, and he knows I feel the same way.

This time I say, “No, Ben. Wait.” I wave the letter at him. “Lavinia says she has a brother, and they’re gonna send for me.”

Benny stops smiling and sits down. I see this is hard for him.

“But I’m gonna write her and tell her you got to come with me.”

Ben don’t say nothing.

“Benny, do you hear me? I’ll tell Lavinia you’re coming with me.”

He looks away.

“Ben?”

“Belle,” he says, “how you gonna make that happen? She gonna buy me? And what about Lucy and the babies?”

“You’re wanting to stay here? You’re picking Lucy over me?”

“Baby,” he says, “we both know this day comin’. We know you got to go before Marshall get back here.”

I don’t believe he’s saying this. I start crying and can’t stop myself. “Baby …” he says, and when he comes over to me, I start yelling, “Don’t you call me baby! You’re staying here? You’re picking Lucy over me? Well! I guess you’re happy that I’m finally going! I see now you’re waiting for me to go all this time!”

His big old eyes fill up and run over until it looks like there’s a bucket of water coming down his face. I don’t care. I go running back to the kitchen house. When he comes, I don’t let him in. I tell him to go, get away from me. Then Mama comes.

“You know you got to go, Belle,” she says. I start to say something smart to Mama, but she stops me. “Belle, you scared, I knows this, but don’t get mad with me. You know you got to get out of here. This good for you and Jamie, going with Lavinia.”

“But I want Ben with me!” I say.

“I know this, Belle,” say Mama, “but Ben got to stay. He have no say. Where he gonna get his free papers? It gonna be hard enough on Lavinia, buyin’ you and Jamie. And what about Lucy and her boys?”

After Mama goes, I just sit and cry. I know I got to get me and Jamie out of here. It’s a blessing that Lavinia wants me, I know this, so in the end I write to her and tell her me and Jamie want to come. But I don’t send the letter just yet. I put it in my writing box under my bed. There’s still time.

Before supper, Will Stephens comes to talk. He stands outside the door. Like always when I’m alone, he don’t come in the house. “What’re you needing, Will?” I say. He asks me to come sit on the bench outside the kitchen, so I do. Finally, he speaks up. “I hear that you’ve had an offer from Lavinia?”

I nod, ’cause if I talk, I’m afraid I’ll start to cry.

“Do you want to go?”

I know he see that my eyes are all puffed and red. I shake my head.

“Well,” he say, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. I might have another offer for you.”

I look at him, wondering what he’s talking about.

He tells me, come spring, he got to go to Williamsburg to ask some questions to Mr. Madden and Marshall and to get some papers signed. What he says next almost knocks me off the bench. He wants to know it’s all right by me if he gets me for his own farm. He got a contract, and it says he gets to take some people
from here. He likes the way I’m always working, and he’s wanting me to come work for him. “Of course,” he says, “this means that I also want Jamie.”

Will knows I go no place unless Jamie’s with me. Mama’s always saying I keep my Jamie too close to me, that it’s not good for him. But he’s a funny child. He’d rather stay with me than go play. He’s a nice-looking boy, but he got one eye that’s clouded up, and he can’t see nothing from it. Mama says maybe it’ll get better when he gets older, but it seems to be getting worse, more white. But he can still see good with the other eye.

I look back at Will Stephens and can’t find no words.

“I’m also planning to negotiate for Ben and Lucy and their two boys,” Will Stephens says. He don’t look at me when he says this, because by now he knows about Ben and me. For sure everybody else knows. Nobody fusses no more about it. Even Lucy and me don’t fight no more.

“When’s this all going to happen?” is all I say to Will Stephens.

“I’m not certain,” he says, “but Marshall turns twenty-two next year. Then he will have control of this place. I don’t know if he plans to come back. If he does, I suspect that he will want changes, and though I’m sure that Marshall has matured, I would like to get the papers in order before that happens. I’m guessing that Mr. Madden will be easier to deal with.”

My heart’s pounding and I don’t know what to say, so I settle on “Thank you, Mr. Stephens.”

He laughs. “Since when do you call me Mr. Stephens?”

I look down because I can’t take the smile off my face.

“I know you as Belle, you know me as Will,” he says. “That doesn’t have to change—unless you want me to call you Miss Pyke?”

First time ever, somebody calls me that. I sit up, proud. “No, sir,” I say. “Belle suits me just fine.”

“Well, then, Belle and Will it is,” he says, and we laugh. “I do have one more question,” he says.

“What’s that?” I ask.

He takes his hat off, pushes his hair back, then goes to put the hat back on. I know something’s up when he takes all that time working his hat.

“Well, I’m wondering about Lavinia … do you think she’s grown up?”

“She was all grown up when she little,” I say, and laugh to remember.

He smiles. “She was that. She’s about sixteen now, am I right?”

“This May,” I say.

“Then you think that she’d be old enough to court?”

“Well, Mr. Will Stephens!” I say, but then I try not to laugh. His face looks like it’s burning up, so I say, “There’s not a time she don’t write about coming back here.”

“So you’ve said,” he says.

After he leaves, the first thing I do is tear up the old letter to Lavinia and write a new one. I write that me and Jamie will stay here and that Will Stephens has some good news. I’m gonna give this letter to Will when he goes. By the time she reads it, maybe she already says yes to coming back with him.

Ben’s going to have to do some fancy talking to get back in my door. Trouble is, we both know it’s just a matter of time.