The Price of Freedom Read online

  “Happy birthday, Deborah,” said the girls. “We’ll get you something in town.”

  “Thank you.” She noticed that the mistress seemed to begrudge offering her even a birthday greeting and had started on her breakfast without comment.

  “How old are you now?”William asked, as if he didn’t know that she was a year younger than Rachel.

  “Sixteen,” she answered shortly.

  “You’re all grown up.” He smiled in a satisfied sort of way, which made her skin crawl. His father gave him a hard look which he ignored. William didn’t care how he looked at him; nothing would stop him from sampling the delectable slave girl who was now serving him.

  Chapter 2

  July 1694

  Deborah was surprised to see that only the ladies of the house were at dinner. She and Cassie were instructed to put the dishes on the table so that they could serve themselves and informed that the master had gone to Town on business and was spending the night there. She assumed that William had gone with him and she was relieved that she would have peace tonight from his prying eyes.

  Returning from the kitchen with a light step, carrying a platter of baked chicken and one of cassava cakes, she set them on the table with the other dishes and turned to go.

  “Enjoy the meal, mistress,” she offered generously.

  "Thank you Deborah. William is not feeling well this evening. Make one of your teas for headache and take it and his dinner to his room for him," Elizabeth instructed her.

  Deborah often used plants that she grew or that were bought in Town to treat minor illnesses. She’d never had to treat William for any illness. He was never sick. It was clearly a way to get her alone. Didn’t his mother realize that? Perhaps she knew what he planned and didn’t care; after all William always got what he wanted and he wanted her.

  He was obviously tired of playing with her and was ready to taste “the dessert”, as he had said at dinner a few weeks ago.

  "I can take it, mistress," offered Cassie. She knew that William had his eyes on Deborah and wanted to protect her. She had experienced what it was to lose her innocence, having been violated by another master when she was just fifteen.

  “No. He asked specifically for Deborah,” Elizabeth stated and that was that. She didn’t expect any further discussion.

  “Yes, ma’am,” agreed Cassie casting a sympathetic glance at Deborah. Deborah’s silence and the narrowing of her eyes, spoke loudly of her rebellion at the idea.

  Returning to the kitchen on leaden feet she asked the sweating cook to prepare a tray for William while she got the leaves to make the tea. She knew that he didn’t really have a headache but she would play along. She looked around for her mother, and was relieved to see that she was not there; she was probably still ironing the clothes that had been washed that day. At least she would be spared the anguish of knowing where she was going.

  Heart beating like one of the drums that were now forbidden to the slaves, she took the tray and made her way up the stairs to his room which was at the far end of the hall.

  Balancing it in one hand, she knocked and heard him command her to come in. Her hand shook on the knob as she opened the door. She hated herself for that show of weakness.

  “Deborah, what took you so long? I’ve been waiting for you.” He certainly didn’t look sick to her as he sat up in his four poster bed with his bare feet crossed at the ankles, wearing a robe.

  “Bring the tray over here and close the door behind you.” She hesitated a few seconds as she deliberated on whether or not to obey him. Calculating the distance between the bed and the door she knew that if she took the tray she couldn’t get away before he got to her.

  “I’m waiting,” he added, “and I don’t like to wait.”

  Her breathing rapidly increased as panic began to overtake her. She knew that unless some miracle happened he would have her and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

  Moving like molasses she inched toward the bedside table, keeping him in her sight through the corner of her eye and holding the tray in front of her protectively as if it could be any defense against him.

  She put down the tray and turned quickly towards the door. She was halfway across the room and to freedom when she felt, more than saw, the movement as William sprang from the bed and caught her around her waist, dragging her back against him with her head against his shoulder.

  She stiffened up like a corpse as she felt his arousal.

  “You didn’t really think I would let you go, did you?” he taunted softly.

  He pulled the handkerchief off her head and her long plait cascaded over the front of one shoulder to her bosom.

  “Undo it!” He commanded. She hesitated and his hand tightened warningly around her waist until she complied with shaking hands.

  Pushing the soft waves aside, he kissed her neck and slipped his hand into the neckline of her dress. She trembled in fright and could hear her teeth start to chatter.

  “Beautiful,” he praised. “And mine to do with as I please.”

  “P…please, William.” She hated herself for begging. “Let me go.”

  “That’s Master William to you. Let you go?” he scoffed. “Why would I do that when I’ve waited for this for weeks?” He laughed as he carried her over to the bed and dropped her onto it. Some distant part of her mind briefly noticed the softness of the mattress that contrasted with the hard pallet that she slept on.

  She immediately tried to scramble off the other side but he caught her by one foot and dragged her back. As she struggled to break free he held her with one hand and pulled back the other to strike her. Deborah twisted her head away to protect her face as she braced herself for the blow, but it never came. Instead he tossed her back on the bed and threw himself on top of her, covering her mouth with his hand to silence her as she opened her mouth to scream.

  She pushed at his shoulders and tried to buck him off but he was much stronger than she was. He rolled slightly to the side so that he could pull her skirt up to her waist baring her before quickly pinning her thrashing her legs down with one of his.

  “Don’t do this!” she cried wrenching her mouth from beneath his hand. “This is wrong! I’m your sister!”

  “You’re not my sister. You’re my slave,” he taunted, pulling apart his robe. He wasted no time with preliminaries and she soon felt pain rip through her body as he tore her innocence from her and changed her life forever.

  Silent tears ran down her face even as anger and hatred took root, hardening her heart and she swore to herself that she would die before she let another man violate her again.

  Sarah finished the ironing and came back to the kitchen.

  “Wuhloss, I glad to get through that pile of clothes,” she said tiredly. She was greeted with silence and the awkward shuffling of the house slaves.

  “Something happened?” she asked as she felt a prickle of alarm.

  “The mistress said that Master William was sick and he asked for Deborah to bring a tray to his room,” Cassie answered. “She didn’t come back down,” she added quietly.

  Sarah bent over, wrapping her hands around her waist, as grief and anger swept through her with the force of a hurricane. She knew, without anyone telling her, what that meant. Hatred rose up in her for William for stealing her child’s innocence and for the very life that they had been born into. She hated that it made her powerless to protect her child.

  She put a hand over her mouth to hold back the wail that was rising in her throat and ran out to their hut where she found Deborah lying on her pallet with her back to the door and her knees drawn up to her chest.

  “Deborah?” Sarah said quietly, sitting down next to her and gently touching her shoulder. Deborah turned over and Sarah briefly saw her face that was red from shame and from crying, before she threw herself into her arms and began to weep afresh.

  “I’m so sorry child. So sorry that this happened. I’m going to talk to Master Thomas when he comes home tomorrow
and tell him what that boy did to you.” She stroked Deborah’s hair comfortingly, even as tears streamed from her own eyes.

  “I told him that I was his sister but he wouldn’t listen!” Deborah cried. “I hate him so much I could kill him!”

  “Sh, don’t let anybody hear you saying that girl! Don’t worry, I will talk to Master Thomas. I will talk to Master Thomas.”

  Deborah let her go on, but she really didn’t hold out any hope. It was going to be up to her to do something because she couldn’t live this way anymore. She was the master’s property! He could leave her in his will to William; he could sell her if he wanted to; his family could do whatever they wanted to her because they owned her. How could that be right? She was a person. She had a soul and her soul cried out for freedom, whatever the cost.

  Thomas sat at his desk and opened a ledger. He and one of the overseers had left Town at nine that morning and had just got back to the plantation with five new slaves. Jethro, the carpenter who also helped around the house, had driven the cart, but he was tired from the long, bumpy drive and he didn’t feel like dealing with the books but he had to make a record of the new slaves they had just bought.

  The door flew open with force, bringing his head up sharply to reprimand whoever had dared to come into his office without permission. When he saw that the uninvited visitor was a very distraught Sarah, he held his peace.

  “What’s happened Sarah?” he asked getting out of his chair and coming around to grasp her shoulders. “Has something happened to Deborah?”

  “Yes, something happened to Deborah! William raped her last night. He waited until you had left the plantation and told the mistress he was sick and he wanted Deborah to bring a tray to his room and he raped my child.” She began to weep.

  Thomas fought against the rage that rose up in him. He had warned William not two weeks ago to stay away from Deborah and he couldn’t believe that he had blatantly ignored his orders. The boy had gone too far. He was putting him on the next boat to England. Perhaps he would learn some civilized behavior from his English kin.

  “I will deal with William. There is a boat sailing to England in the next few days. I’m going to make sure that he’s on it. A few years in England may do him good.”

  “You would do that Master Thomas? Oh, thank you, thank you. Deborah will be so glad to hear that.”

  Thomas nodded, distractedly. Telling Sarah was the easy part. Dealing with William and Elizabeth wouldn’t be that easy.

  When Sarah left, Thomas returned to his leather chair and sank down into it, holding his head in his hands. When his son should be looking to get more involved in the plantation, all he was doing was wasting his life away.

  When he was in town he had found out the extent to which William had been drinking and gambling. He owed some of the tavern owners a lot of money. This was the last straw. He wasn’t working so hard for William to gamble away everything and now he had dared to violate Deborah although he had been warned to stay away from her.

  He pulled out a piece of parchment and dipped his quill in ink and began a letter to his uncle in England. Unfortunately the only notice his uncle would have that William was coming was when he was presented the letter by William himself. He only hoped that he wouldn’t put him on the next boat back.

  Looking out the window, he saw William riding into the yard and shouted through the window for him to come into the office.

  Belligerence was like a cloak on William as he walked through the door.

  “You wanted me?”

  “Why the hell did you take Deborah to your bed last night? You could have had your pick of any of the other slave girls!” Thomas didn’t waste time in getting to the point.

  “Why should you care? Were you saving her for yourself?” His son sneered. In two seconds his father was on his feet and had delivered a blow to his insolent face. For a moment, William looked as if he would strike him in return but he managed to restrain himself.

  “I don’t sleep with my offspring,” Thomas snarled. “And neither should you.”

  “She’s just a slave.” He defended.

  “I’ve had enough of your behavior! I’m sending you to England for a few years. I hope that you come back more civilized. There is a boat leaving in a few days and you can travel on that. Until then don’t let me hear of this happening again. Do you understand me? I hope to God she’s not pregnant.”

  “You’re sending me to England? Over a slave?”

  “This is about more than a slave. I hadn’t been to Town in over three months and as soon as I arrived in town more than one merchant were waiting to present me with IOUs for your gambling and drinking. I didn’t build this plantation back up for you to gamble away.”

  “You can spend a few years in England getting some education so that you’ll have some use when you come back. Go and break the news to your mother and start packing.”

  William was speechless. He couldn’t believe that his father was serious but he had never seen that particular implacable look on his face. He turned and walked out without uttering another word. This wasn’t the end of the story; he would write the ending, not have it dictated to him.

  Thomas had just finished the letter to his uncle and he felt that he was doing the right thing for William. He admitted to himself that as a father he had not been a good example so he really couldn’t expect any better of his son. He was hopeful that the years in England, away from colonial life, would mature him and make him into a good man.

  He was just about to seal the letter when the door was thrown open for the second time that day and this time his wife stormed in.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

  “I should be asking you that! William tells me you’re sending him to England in a few days. You can’t be serious!”

  “Believe me I’m very serious and unless you want to be on the boat with him, madam, I would suggest you adopt a more respectful tone.”

  Elizabeth bit back a reply and asked in a more reasonable tone, “What’s brought this on so suddenly?”

  “As if you don’t know. What did you think would happen when you made Deborah take a tray to his room last night?”

  “What of it? That’s what you use them for isn’t it? Is she more to you than your own son?”

  Thomas fell silent. He had no defense for that. Elizabeth was right. His own behavior had taught his son well.

  “That’s only part of it. He’s been drinking and gambling in town and piling up a lot of debts. If some disease doesn’t kill him from sleeping about with whores in Town then one of the merchants might. I think it’s best for him to spend a few years in England. I’m sure he’ll be the better for it.”

  “And what of you?” she asked bitterly, tears filling her eyes, “Is there anything that would make you the better for it?” With that she ran out, heading blindly for her room.

  Elizabeth was relieved to reach her room without running into anyone. She tried to remember the last time Thomas had shared it with her and could not. His room was separated from hers by a dressing room and although the walls were fairly thick she could hear the muffled sounds coming from his room on the nights he sent for Sarah. It was beyond humiliating.

  She had loved him as a young girl and was delighted when her father had arranged for them to marry. The thought of coming out to Barbados with him and starting a new life in the colonies was exciting. It had not been easy at first, as he rebuilt the plantation, but she hardly complained.

  As sugar became like gold in Barbados and they repaid their debts and began to prosper, Thomas was able to take on overseers and to increase his slaveholding again and then he had bought Sarah to help with the children. She had taken one look at the beautiful mulatto woman and knew the real reason Thomas had purchased her for the exorbitant sum of £50, as she had discovered by looking through the books in his office.

  She knew that Sarah wasn’t the first Thomas had bedded but she couldn’t help but notice the way h
e looked at her and it pained her to admit that he had never looked at her with the stark desire that she saw in his eyes as they followed the slave woman when he was unaware that she was watching him.

  When she discovered that Sarah was pregnant just a year after she came, it was almost more than she could bear. The child had looked like Thomas from early and she felt as if she was the laughing stock of the island when neighbors came to visit even though they never openly remarked on the resemblance.

  She was not the only one that had to deal with this kind of humiliation; it was common for many of the planters’ wives in Barbados, but she had feelings and she was not going to let him humiliate her this way anymore. She couldn’t believe that he would take the side of those slave women over her son. She hoped that one day he would suffer for this as she had suffered.

  The tension in the house at dinner permeated the kitchen where the house slaves gathered quietly to eat their meal. Deborah reluctantly joined them at Sarah’s urging, only because she had only eaten a little porridge that morning in their hut and she was starving. She avoided the sympathetic gazes of the other slaves and kept her head down as she ate.

  Finally breaking the silence Cassie said, "Deborah, you don't have nothing to be shame about. The shame is William's not yours and we know how you feel because it happen to us too." Tears pricked Deborah's eyes at her words of sympathy and she nodded silently, too overcome with emotion to speak, but the truth of Cassie's words enabled her to lift her head. Sarah sent a silent look of thanks to Cassie.

  Jethro came in after closing up the house. He had driven the master to Town the day before and had spent the night but had heard the news when he came back. He was almost as distraught as Sarah since he had deep feelings for her and looked on Deborah as a daughter but since Sarah belonged to the master he knew he would never be able to marry her as he desired.