Read Online Indigo by Beverly Jenkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Beverly Jenkins
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, Romance, Historical, adult romance, African American, african american romance, African American women, multicultural romance, American History, multicultural fiction, American Romance, African American Fiction, Multicultural Women, African American History, Underground Railroad, Historical Multicultural Romance, HIstorical African American Romance, Beverly Jenkins
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bed. "This."
He watched as she touched the wall. A portion of it swung open without a sound. He came over to the opening and peered into the darkness.
Hester explained. "There's a wooden incline leading down to the tunnel below the house. Great-grandfather Ellis said one can run faster down an incline than a flight of stairs."
Galen agreed. He'd known many a man to break a limb running hell bent down a flight of stairs.
Hester then said, "Close your eyes."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Please?"
To her surprise he complied without argument. "Now, give me your hand." When he did, she gently moved his strong, warm hand over the grain of the panel. "Can you feel the slight roughness of the wood here, as opposed to here?"
He nodded yes.
"Now open your eyes." She then had him inspect the area, after which she showed him the place on the wood which sprung the opening. To the casual observer it appeared as just another whorl in the highly polished oak. "I have a similar panel in my room. My aunt Katherine made me practice until I could find the spring in the dark. You should probably do the same."
"How many other escapes in the house?"
"Not many more, but enough where we can always get a head start, hopefully," she added in a serious tone. "I can show them to you whenever you care to view them."
"How about now?"
Hester nodded, then led him from the room.
She showed him the secret panels in the three bedrooms which were oft times occupied by her passengers, and the tunnel entrance beneath the rocker in the study. He'd already seen the passage behind the kitchen leading to the room in the cellar.
When she finished the tour Galen asked, "Is that all of them?"
"Except for the one in my bedroom, yes."
"I need to see it also."
Hester blinked. She'd never had a man in her bedroom. "Why?"
"So I will know where it is."
She supposed the logic of the request made sense, however, she doubted he would ever need to escape from her bedroom, but rather than argue over the matter, Hester led him back upstairs.
Inside her room, Hester walked over to the paneled wall to the right of her wardrobe, and showed Galen what he wanted to see. As in the other rooms, the whorls of the wood camouflaged the spring. Her fingers pressed the spot and the panel swung open. Her expression asked, Are you satisfied?
He nodded like a tall monarch pleased with a royal subject.
A touch and the opening was concealed again.
Galen took the opportunity to glance around her room. He no longer had to imagine where she slept at night. His gaze slid over her bed. Atop the mussed quilt and exposed sheet lay a nightgown which could have belonged to a Quaker woman. There were no ribbons or geegaws for a man to linger over. To his practiced eye the fabric appeared rough and uncomfortable.
Seeing his interest in her gown, Hester hastily retrieved it. His face held nothing that could be construed as lustful, but an embarrassed Hester opened a drawer on the wardrobe and threw the gown inside.
His eyebrow raised but he didn't speak. For a few seconds, they stood silent, observing one another. Hester couldn't imagine why her heart was racing so. As she'd reminded herself before, she was far past the age of being so affected by a man. Hester asked over her pounding heart, "Iâhave you seen all you need to see?"
Galen thought she looked far too innocent to be in this business. In his mind, she should be married to a good man having his babies, not risking her life every day for a cause which appeared to have no end. "No, Hester Wyatt, I have not, but we can leave now."
Hester blinked, put her heart back inside her ribs, and led the way.
Galen chastised himself for playing with her in such a fashion. He'd be willing to bet she did not possess the experience to do anything but flee in the face of his teasing, yet he found the play disturbingly stimulating.
Hester prepared his lunch and joined him at the dining room table. He asked, "Aren't you going to eat?"
"I'll
He watched as she touched the wall. A portion of it swung open without a sound. He came over to the opening and peered into the darkness.
Hester explained. "There's a wooden incline leading down to the tunnel below the house. Great-grandfather Ellis said one can run faster down an incline than a flight of stairs."
Galen agreed. He'd known many a man to break a limb running hell bent down a flight of stairs.
Hester then said, "Close your eyes."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Please?"
To her surprise he complied without argument. "Now, give me your hand." When he did, she gently moved his strong, warm hand over the grain of the panel. "Can you feel the slight roughness of the wood here, as opposed to here?"
He nodded yes.
"Now open your eyes." She then had him inspect the area, after which she showed him the place on the wood which sprung the opening. To the casual observer it appeared as just another whorl in the highly polished oak. "I have a similar panel in my room. My aunt Katherine made me practice until I could find the spring in the dark. You should probably do the same."
"How many other escapes in the house?"
"Not many more, but enough where we can always get a head start, hopefully," she added in a serious tone. "I can show them to you whenever you care to view them."
"How about now?"
Hester nodded, then led him from the room.
She showed him the secret panels in the three bedrooms which were oft times occupied by her passengers, and the tunnel entrance beneath the rocker in the study. He'd already seen the passage behind the kitchen leading to the room in the cellar.
When she finished the tour Galen asked, "Is that all of them?"
"Except for the one in my bedroom, yes."
"I need to see it also."
Hester blinked. She'd never had a man in her bedroom. "Why?"
"So I will know where it is."
She supposed the logic of the request made sense, however, she doubted he would ever need to escape from her bedroom, but rather than argue over the matter, Hester led him back upstairs.
Inside her room, Hester walked over to the paneled wall to the right of her wardrobe, and showed Galen what he wanted to see. As in the other rooms, the whorls of the wood camouflaged the spring. Her fingers pressed the spot and the panel swung open. Her expression asked, Are you satisfied?
He nodded like a tall monarch pleased with a royal subject.
A touch and the opening was concealed again.
Galen took the opportunity to glance around her room. He no longer had to imagine where she slept at night. His gaze slid over her bed. Atop the mussed quilt and exposed sheet lay a nightgown which could have belonged to a Quaker woman. There were no ribbons or geegaws for a man to linger over. To his practiced eye the fabric appeared rough and uncomfortable.
Seeing his interest in her gown, Hester hastily retrieved it. His face held nothing that could be construed as lustful, but an embarrassed Hester opened a drawer on the wardrobe and threw the gown inside.
His eyebrow raised but he didn't speak. For a few seconds, they stood silent, observing one another. Hester couldn't imagine why her heart was racing so. As she'd reminded herself before, she was far past the age of being so affected by a man. Hester asked over her pounding heart, "Iâhave you seen all you need to see?"
Galen thought she looked far too innocent to be in this business. In his mind, she should be married to a good man having his babies, not risking her life every day for a cause which appeared to have no end. "No, Hester Wyatt, I have not, but we can leave now."
Hester blinked, put her heart back inside her ribs, and led the way.
Galen chastised himself for playing with her in such a fashion. He'd be willing to bet she did not possess the experience to do anything but flee in the face of his teasing, yet he found the play disturbingly stimulating.
Hester prepared his lunch and joined him at the dining room table. He asked, "Aren't you going to eat?"
"I'll
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