Furmidable Foes

32

January 25, 1788

Friday

The January thaw, a bit late this year, ushered in temperatures in the mid-forties during the day. Given the bitter cold and snow, this felt like freedom. People could wear lighter clothing, perhaps even dispense with a scarf.

Maureen looked over the mare her husband had bought as he stood next to her.

“She is uncommonly sweet, my dear. I thought if you wished to drive alone, she would be most reliable. I don’t want to take any chances with my bride.” Jeffrey called her his “bride” because she liked that.

“Not much to look at,” Maureen commented.

“No matter. All eyes will be on you.”

DoRe, hearing this as he was kneeling down to feel one of the elegant coach-driving horse’s legs, shook his head. Jeffrey knew exactly how to handle the Missus.

“And what coach do you suggest I drive?” She paused. “What’s her name?”

“Penny.”

“Ah.”

“In summer, you have many choices. I always like seeing you drive the dog cart.”

The dog cart was a short two-seater, two large wheels, a popular choice on many farms in warm weather.

“We’ll see. What about cold weather?”

“I prefer you be in a closed cart, my dear. No need to expose you to numbing temperatures. DoRe can drive you as he always does in rain, snow, cold.”

“Yes.”

At that point DoRe emerged from the far stall. He nodded, wiping his hands on an old towel hanging outside the stall.

“What do you think?” Jeffrey asked DoRe.

“About what, Master?”

“Barney’s leg.”

Maureen turned to her husband. “What’s the matter with Barney’s leg? Why wasn’t I told?”

DoRe stepped in to help Jeffrey, whom he thought a good man. “Missus, he’s stocked up. Now that the weather’s better, he can be turned out all day. He just stocked up.”

Horses’ legs, like humans’, will swell if they stand for hours. Horses and humans are built to move.

“DoRe, what do you think of the work cart Jeffrey purchased?”

“A wise buy. We won’t need to be constantly fixing it.”

“My darling, I can sell more carts and wagons than I can coach and fours. This adds, um, faster income. The coaches take longer to fashion, which means longer to receive as due.”

Shrewd about money, Maureen probed. “Who will you take off the coach building?”

“Only Mason to work with and train two younger men. The underpinnings will take the most skill.”

“How quickly can you produce such a vehicle once the men are trained?”

“Three weeks.” He held up his hands. “Given the equipment we have, maybe two weeks. The painting will add a bit of time but it’s the axles and wheels that matter. Of course that is critical, important for the coach and fours, but think of how intricate and elegant those coaches are. The windows alone add a big bump to the cost. And people want a coach in their colors. Even down to pinstripes on the wheels.”

She nodded in agreement. “You get what you pay for and you, husband, really are an artist. Sublime work.” She kissed him on the cheek, satisfied with the explanation.

“As long as you are pleased.”

DoRe had many chores to finish but he couldn’t just walk away. He caught Jeffrey’s eye, raising his eyebrows. Before he could be dismissed, Maureen spoke.

“Who might you train?”

“Young Louis.” He stopped.

“Who else?”

“William. He can’t ride anymore. He can’t really work in the fields. This way he can be useful.”

“If I have to feed him, he’d better be useful.”

“My sentiments, entirely,” Jeffrey soothingly agreed.

“DoRe, is he useful to you?”

“No, Missus.”

“Where is he?”

“In the lower barn mixing bran mash.”

“Fetch him,” she commanded, then turned to her husband. “Let’s wait in the sunshine. I want to feel the warmth on my face.”

“Of course.” Jeffrey lifted a small bench from the large tack room, carrying it outside.

“Jeffrey, we have men who can do that. I do wish you would more often employ them.”

“Yes, but I don’t want you to wait until I find one. You should sit right here, face turned to the sun. Would you like me to find a footstool?”

“No, dear.”

The sight of William, dragging his one leg, next to DoRe, who also limped, from old horse injuries, made Maureen laugh.

Finally, standing before her, she looked William up and down. “Did you learn anything?”

William bowed his head, silent.

She barked, “Did you learn anything?”

“Yes, Missus.”

“My husband is willing to have you taught how to build carts. Mason will be in charge. You will live at the workshop and be chained each night.”

“Yes, Missus.”

“Perhaps in a year or two, with good behavior, you can sleep unchained. I’ll be decent. In the carriage shop you need only be chained by the ankle. One false move and your hands will be chained to a beam. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Missus.”

“What else?” Her voice rose threateningly.

Head down, he replied, “Thank you, Missus.”

She tapped her small foot, encased in a lovely shoe, thinking. “William, do you know where my pearl and diamond necklace and earrings might be? Did you steal them?”

William’s head shot up, eyes wide with fear, for he had heard from DoRe what happened to Elizabetta. No one else would talk to him. William was utterly distrusted and despised.

“No, Missus. No.”

Jeffrey quietly affirmed, “Dearest, if he had that exquisite necklace and earrings, he would have gotten a lot farther, although I grant you his disappearance so close to Sheba’s raises questions.”

Maureen now tapped her other foot.

“William, my husband, who is far too kind, will supervise you at the shop.” She turned to Jeffrey, sitting next to her. “When do you want him there?”

“Now would do nicely.” Jeffrey stood up.

Maureen did not stop him as this exchange further provoked her. “On your way, send Sulli to me at the house.”

He stopped for a moment, then smiled. “Of course. You know, I long to find that necklace and those earrings. You looked so radiant wearing them”—he paused one short beat—“although no jewelry can ever do you justice.”

Then he left as DoRe returned to the driving horses. Jeffrey, along with William dragging his leg, headed toward the shop.

DoRe, halter over Barney, walked the big boy out to his paddock. He thought Jeffrey Holloway sang for his supper daily. He thanked God for a good woman who loved him. Slave he was and always would be, but he had more than his master. He had the love of Bettina.

“Barney, life is confusing.” He patted the fine animal, slipped off the halter, and watched him run and kick, happy to be out of that confining stall.

Back in the big house, Maureen told Elizabetta to expect Sulli.

Within five minutes Sulli was let in the back door. Elizabetta said not a word but led her to Maureen, sitting on the porch, flooded with sunlight.

“Elizabetta, stay here. You should hear this.” Maureen turned her luminous eyes, one of her best features, to Sulli. “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, Missus,” Sulli quickly responded, bowing her head like William.

“Do you know where my necklace and earrings are?” She had no need to explain.

By this time most of Virginia knew the story.

“No, Missus.”

“But you knew Sheba?”

“Yes, Missus, but she was far above me, working in the house.”

“Yet you, Sheba, and William ran off not far apart in time.”

It was far apart in time, for Sheba disappeared in 1786, October. However, no one, including her husband, would point that out to her. Maureen did not take well to correction in any form.

“Missus, Sheba would have nothing to do with me. She never spoke to me.”

“H-m-m. Never?”

“No, Missus. I was far beneath her.”

“But you knew when she ran off.”

“Yes, Missus.”

“And you knew she stole a necklace and earrings of great value.”

“Yes, Missus.”

“Do you think William knows where Sheba is or where the necklace might be? After all, you two stole from me.”

“Yes, Missus. I was wrong to do that. I was wrong to listen to William.”

Maureen was enjoying this, as was Elizabetta.

“Tell me, Sulli, what did William promise that could turn you into a thief and a fool?”

Sulli took a deep breath, lifted her head. “He told me he loved me. He told me we would be free and make lots of money.”

“And you believed that?”

“Yes, Missus. I most particularly believed he loved me.”

“You aren’t the first woman to be misled by a sweet talker, but you knew right from wrong. ‘Thou shalt not steal,’ ” Maureen said. Then she called out. “Kintzie, come in here.”

Kintzie, the herbalist and healer, walked in.

The woman exuded a natural dignity and kindness.

“Yes, Missus.”

“Help Elizabetta show her back.”

Kintzie did as asked, sliding the sleeves down. Elizabetta turned her back to Sulli, whose reaction was a slight narrowing of her eyes.

Maureen waved her hand. Kintzie helped Elizabetta with her top.

“Sulli, Elizabetta’s negligence allowed you and William to steal the pin money out of the kitchen plus a small necklace. She has paid for it. How should I punish you?”

Sulli kept her mouth shut.

Maureen stood up, slapped her hard across the face. “If you ever do anything like that again, if you ever steal from me, if you know where Sheba is and I find out you know, I will do worse. Far worse. Do you understand?”

Sulli nodded.

Maureen slapped her again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Missus.”

“Get out of my sight.”

As they left, the last rays of the sun shone on the meadows. Maureen would kill to find her necklace, but who to kill?