Danielle Steel - Legacy (2010)

“I sent her to her room to rest before dinner after the drive from town,” his wife explained smoothly. Jean hoped that she wasn’t going to be difficult about it at dinner. They offered him a glass of champagne, and then sent him to his own room to freshen up. And as he was led to the large guest quarters on the second floor, he couldn’t figure out which room they had given Wachiwi, and he was afraid to ask, but he would have liked to see if she was all right.

He knew the house well and had stayed there often before in the past five years, but all of the guest room doors were closed. He hoped she wasn’t frightened or upset, and just before he went down to dinner, he began to seriously worry about her. He knew that she would need help getting into her gown, and more than likely would be afraid to ask. He began knocking on doors shortly after, hoping to find her without making a fuss. There was no answer at any door, and when he poked his head in, the rooms were dark and empty. He had no idea where she was. And finally, not knowing what else to do, he rang for one of the servants. An old man named Tobias answered his call. He had worked for years as Armand’s valet and had always been kind to Jean before. He had recognized him immediately and greeted him warmly when he and Wachiwi arrived.

“Do you know where the young lady is, Tobias? I can’t seem to find her. I’d like to see her for a moment before we go down to dinner. Do you know which room she was given?”

“Yes, I do, sir,” Tobias answered respectfully. It was one of the few plantations where the slaves were treated well. Armand de Margerac had a reputation for being kind to them, and most of the time tried to keep families together, which was rarely the case in other homes, where husbands and wives were often separated, one of them sold to a different owner, and their children sold separately as well. It was a practice that always made Jean feel ill. It was one of the things about the New World that he had never liked. In France, the free trade of human beings like so much cattle was unthinkable. “Where is her room, then?”

“In the cabin next to mine,” Tobias said quietly, lowering his eyes. He had had a feeling that that circumstance would not go over well with their young cousin from France.

“I beg your pardon?” Jean decided that he must have been mistaken in what he just heard. There were no guest rooms in the cabins, only slaves, and the quarters they were housed in. There were fourteen of those cabins behind the house.

“Your aunt thought she would be more comfortable there.” He had taken her there himself immediately after she arrived. He felt sorry for her, she looked so frightened and lost. He had left her with his wife, who was showing her around.

“Take me to her at once,” Jean said through clenched teeth, and then followed Tobias down the stairs, out a side door into a back garden, and then through a locked gate, to which Tobias had a key. Only a few of those who worked in the house did. The other slaves had no access to the main house. Nor did Wachiwi if she was behind that gate.

Tobias led Jean down a series of paths in a confusing pattern, past several buildings that were the “cabins.” Each one housed two dozen slaves. There were a few smaller, nicer cabins, where the more trusted house slaves lived, like Tobias, and his children when they were young. He stopped at one of the better cabins, and led Jean inside. There was a narrow hallway, a honeycomb of tiny rooms, and in each of them he could see several people. He found Wachiwi finally, in a back bedroom with four other women. Her trunks filled the room, and she was sitting on one of them, with a look of despair.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, his eyes blazing. He gestured to her to follow him, and she looked terrified that he was angry at her. She was sure she had done something wrong, and she had no idea who these people were or why she was in a house with them. She hadn’t seen Jean all afternoon. While he thought she was resting quietly in a guest bedroom, she had been shunted away to stay with the slaves. He turned to Tobias then and told him to have her trunks sent to his room.

He took her back to his own room, took off her bonnet, smoothed her hair, and told her how sorry he was. She didn’t understand all the words that he said to her, but she got the idea. She was smiling again by the time her trunks arrived, carried by two of the house slaves. Jean opened one of them and took out one of her dinner gowns.

He dressed her himself, did up her corset, helped her into the underwear. He took out the fan he had bought for her, and when he was finished ten minutes later, she looked dazzling. She had been transformed. He brushed her hair until it shone, and she looked at him gratefully when she saw herself in the mirror. She looked exotic and at the same time elegant, fresh, and young, and totally respectable as he tucked her hand into his arm and led her down the grand staircase to the drawing room.

Angélique and Armand were waiting for him there. They had invited a few friends to dinner, but no one had arrived yet. They had been planning to have a quiet drink with Jean before dinner, and with his friend, before they knew what she was. Angélique had explained the situation to her husband, and he was greatly relieved that she had solved the problem so quickly. They agreed that their cousin had clearly lost his mind and judgment after spending too much time with the natives. It was unthinkable that he had brought one of them to stay with them.

They looked equally horrified when he strode into the room with Wachiwi on his arm. Her gown looked appropriate, although her flowing black hair wasn’t, and Angélique sat down looking faint when she saw her walk into the room.

“Jean, what are you thinking?” she asked him, as her husband stared at Wachiwi. He had to admit that she was beautiful and he could see why his young cousin wanted to be with her, but certainly not in anyone’s drawing room. The idea that Jean had dared to bring her here thoroughly shocked them both.

“What am I thinking, cousin?” Jean asked, his eyes smoldering dangerously. Wachiwi had never seen him that way before, nor had they. But they were getting a clear picture of what his temper could be like. Normally, it took a great deal to anger him. But now he was enraged, on Wachiwi’s behalf. “I’m thinking you’ve been extremely rude to my guest. I found her in the slave quarters half an hour ago, in a room with four other women. There seems to be some mistake. I’ve had her moved to my room,” he announced smoothly. “I’m sure you understand.”

“No, I don’t!” Angélique said, springing to her feet, her eyes every bit as ominous as his. “I will not have a savage in my house. How dare you bring her here! She belongs in the slave quarters where Tobias put her. I will not have a black woman at my dinner table. Get her out of here at once!” She wanted Wachiwi to disappear immediately, before her other guests arrived, and her husband was fully in agreement with her. Jean was not.

“She’s not a black woman. She’s a Dakota Sioux, and her father is a chief.”

“What? One of those savages who run around naked, killing people? Who did she murder before she came here? What white woman’s baby did she kill? Are you insane?”

“That’s a disgusting thing to say. If you’d like me to, we’ll go back to New Orleans immediately. Send your carriage around,” he said firmly as Angélique blustered at him, as furious as he was.

“That’s an excellent idea. And where do you think you’ll stay in town? No decent boardinghouse will have you either. You can’t bring an Indian girl into a proper establishment, any more than you could bring one of our slaves.”