Read Online Forsaken Dreams by MaryLu Tyndall - Free Book Online Page A

“As much as it may unsettle some of us, Mrs. Crawford is right. They are free as we are and must be treated with respect.”
    “Respect? They were not created for respect.” Mr. Scott’s fork clinked a bit too loudly on his plate. “I say we drop them off at the nearest island.”
    His wife’s gaze remained lowered, though a whimper escaped her lips. A breeze squeezed beneath the door, sputtering the candles and playing a symphony of lights and darks across the deckhead.
    The colonel set down his glass. “We will do no such thing, Mr. Scott. And that is the end of it.” His commanding tone brooked no argument, and Eliza could see why men obeyed him. Even Mr. Scott seemed momentarily speechless, though she was sure the pleasant reprieve wouldn’t last.
    Captain Barclay took a swig of wine, wiped his mouth with the tablecloth, and leaned back in his chair. “As much as I don’t approve of freeing the beasts, it is the way of things now. They are hardworking and will no doubt be an asset to your colony.”
    Mr. Scott huffed his displeasure. Magnolia frowned and picked at her food.
    Eliza wondered how the Scotts’ servant felt about the conversation, but when she glanced her way, her face was as bland as the stew they were eating. Did she know she could be free? Why hadn’t she left the Scotts? Eliza had heard that several slave owners had threatened to hunt down and kill any slaves who ran away. She hoped that wasn’t the case with this sweet girl, who looked to be no more than fifteen.
    Angeline pushed food around her plate, oddly keeping her face turned from James, who sat beside her. Finally, she joined the conversation. “And what is your opinion, Parson Bailey? Does God have something to say about slavery?”
    The parson’s scrawny shoulders rose. He set down his fork and took a drink, drawing out the moment. With a receding hairline, thick muttonchops, and tiny close-set eyes, he looked more like a mongoose than a man. A chuckle bubbled in Eliza’s throat at the comparison, and she hid her smile behind a napkin.
    “The Bible says much about slavery, Miss Angeline. Slavery was well accepted in biblical times, even encouraged.”
    James plopped a chunk of cheese into his mouth. “I beg to differ with you, Parson. Accepted, yes. Part of the culture of the day, indeed. But hardly encouraged. Not by God nor by Jesus. In fact”—he shot a glance over the table—“in the Jewish tradition, if a man was a slave to another, he was freed every forty-nine years during Jubilee.”
    The parson’s face twisted in a knot. “And who are you, sir, to dare interpret scripture?”
    “He is a preacher like yourself.” The colonel smiled.
    “Indeed.” He turned condescending eyes on James. “From what church?
    “My father pastored the Second Baptist Church in Knoxville, Tennessee. I took over the parish when I”—he coughed—“returned from the war.”
    “Humph.” The parson wiggled his nose as if some unpleasant smell had invaded it. “Baptists, of course.”
    James was about to respond when Mr. Dodd leaned forward and addressed Angeline. “I know you from somewhere, Miss Moore.”
    Angeline choked on the first bite of food she had taken. She coughed into her napkin, not facing the man. “Mine is a common face, sir.”
    “I would hardly agree with that!” James said so emphatically a few of the men chuckled. A blush rose up his neck, and Eliza smiled. Angeline was indeed a beauty. With hair the color of copper and violet eyes framed in thick lashes, she rivaled Magnolia in comely appearance. Yet unlike Magnolia, Angeline had a sweet demeanor about her and something else, a strength hidden by weakness.
    Yet now, the poor girl seemed to be having trouble breathing. Eliza pressed a hand on her back.
    “No, no, no.” Mr. Dodd nodded, still studying her. “I’m sure we have met. It will come to me in time.”
    Angeline swallowed her meat and drew a deep shuddering breath as Eliza’s gaze swept to