Free Forever Waiting by DeVa Gantt Page B

gentlemen will not rest until they have searched your home.”
    The men mumbled in agreement.
    “Yes, sir,” Brian answered. Stepping aside, he allowed two of them in.
    The others paired off and searched each cabin. They came up empty-handed, and Reynolds turned to John. “We’re sorry to have troubled you, Mr. Duvoisin.”
    John smiled. “No trouble at all. I’ll keep an eye out for your runaways.”
    They trudged back to the main house and mounted up. John climbed the front steps, rubbing the back of his neck. When they were out of sight, Michael came out onto the porch. “They’re gone?” he queried anxiously.
    “They’re gone,” John affirmed.
    Michael still clutched the news clipping in his fist.
    “May I have that?” John asked. “I keep them,” he explained, “every one of them, as a reminder of what I’m doing and why.”
    Michael handed the paper over. John glanced at it and said, “Let us see if they made it to Freedom last night.”
    Michael chuckled, and together, they retraced John’s steps to the cabins.
    Stuart came out onto the porch again, smiling in relief.
    “So, they are here?” John asked.
    “Yes, John, since dawn, but I didn’t know you were up at the house.”
    “No harm done,” John replied. “Today continues to be their lucky day. Since there are only two of them, and Father Michael will be setting out for Richmond in the morning, he can transport them to the refuge in his buggy.”
    Michael nodded; it looked as if he’d be spending the night.
    They slid a heavy, crude hutch off two movable floorboards, and the couple emerged from the crawlspace beneath Stuart’s cabin. Nettie gave them dinner, then prepared a bed for them, and at the crack of dawn the next morning, they were on their way. The pregnant woman sat beside Michael and did not look out of place; the advertisement had not described her and she could pass for his housekeeper. Her husband, however, was tucked uncomfortably behind the carriage seat, concealed under a blanket. Still, it was better than walking.
    John wished them well and pressed some money into the woman’s hands.
    “Thank you, sir,” she whispered, grabbing hold of his arm and cradling it to her heart. “God bless you and your family.”
    “And you, ma’am,” he rejoined. He shook Michael’s hand and said, “I’ll stop by when I’m back in Richmond.”
    The priest flicked the reins, setting the buggy in motion.
    Saturday, March 24, 1837
Charmantes
    Charmaine and Mercedes stepped out of Maddy Thompson’s cottage, in no hurry to return to the manor. Charmaine sighed contentedly. Two weeks ago, she had worried about what she would wear. She was determined to turn every eye at the banquet and ball, but the dresses on display in the mercantile were far from elegant. Certainly, the other maids and matrons would be wearing gowns purchased abroad, in Paris and in London. Paul had said as much when he insisted he purchase her entire ensemble. Thankfully, he and Maddy had come up with a solution. Fashionable gowns were advertised in the magazines on the mercantile counter. Charmaine would choose amongst the finest fabrics in stock, and Maddy, who had been a seamstress for a couturier in Charleston, would do the rest. So, for the past two Saturdays, Charmaine had stood like a statue on a pedestal in Maddy’s parlor as the gown took shape. One final fitting and it would be ready, and Mercedes would take care of any minor adjustments at the house.
    They crossed the busy street and headed toward the livery. A large sign hung in Dulcie’s window: attention sailors: no vacancies, and in small letters: lodging available at the warehouse. The most influential guests would be staying in the mansions on Charmantes and Espoir, and Frederic was paying Dulcie well to accommodate the others. Earlier in the week, the saloon had been whitewashed, and the shutters repainted. Today, the second-story windows were thrown wide, and six women were in the side yard