marry it. Money, he reflected, would be the only reason Miss Seaton would be in demand. But then, unwillingly, he thought of that hair. And those lips.
Disgusted at his own thoughts, he wished Opal a pleasant evening and went in search of Cam.
His friend was waiting in the cabin, anxiety showing on a face that was usually blank.
Quinn shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “She wouldn’t sell.”
“Why?”
“Something about the girl being the only one who could dress her hair properly,” Quinn replied. “Properly. Hell, that’s the best reason in the world to get rid of her.”
He went over to a cabinet and took out a bottle of brandy, pouring a drink for each of them. Quinn then sat down, putting his booted legs on a chair and gazing into his glass morosely. It was the one drink he allowed himself before playing cards. During the game he drank colored water.
“Damn,” he said, in reply to Cam’s painful silence. The man asked for so little, expected so little. “We’ll get her,” he said slowly. “I promise.”
Cam leaned against the wall. “We can’t do anything on the Lucky Lady.”
“No,” Quinn answered. “But I know her family. Perhaps it’s time I stopped at the Seaton plantation and inquired about the possibility of carrying their cotton. Perhaps by then Miss Seaton will be tired of her. She doesn’t seem the type to stick to anything long.”
“If she does?”
“We’ll get in touch with the Parson. See what he can do.”
Cam nodded. The Parson operated a very successful Underground Railroad station near Vicksburg.
“He’ll find a way….”
Cam sat down heavily, his eyes bleak despite Quinn’s words. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about the girl he had seen so briefly. But something smothering and heavy settled around his heart.
“There’s another agent in the area,” Quinn continued, trying to ease the anguish he saw in Cam. “But I don’t have a name. It’s one they keep secret. Everything goes through the Parson. Between them we can get her out.”
Cam’s face was etched with frustration. “She’s so young, and so frightened. If only I could say something…”
Quinn sighed. “We can’t risk the Lucky Lady,” he said. “Not for just one person. I don’t think anything will happen to her with Miss Seaton.”
“Daphne said she seemed ‘kind enough.’” There was a hesitancy, a question, in his voice that sought reassurance. It seemed strange in this big man who was so terrifying in his anger and so gentle in his kindness. It was a miracle, Quinn thought, that the kindness had survived.
He had first seen Cam on the auction block. He was heavily chained, which was unusual. Most traders removed chains, knowing their presence indicated an unruly and troublesome slave. But perhaps the trader knew it would be obvious anyway because Cam’s back was crisscrossed with both old and new scars.
Quinn had been back in New Orleans only four months when he had stopped by the slave auction. He would never know what drew him there for he usually avoided them. His family had several household slaves who, it seemed, had been with the Devereuxs forever, and they had always been more like family than servants.
But he had been frustrated and dissatisfied for reasons he didn’t understand, and he had decided to visit his favorite tavern. It was a trip he took with increasing frequency, much to Brett’s dismay. He had to walk past the slave market to get there. It was then he saw Cam’s defiant stance, and it brought back all the deep agony of his own past. He looked into eyes that glittered with hate and a kind of hopelessness that struck Quinn to the core.
Much to his surprise, he found himself joining in the bidding, which climbed to unexpectedly high levels until there were only two bidders left. Quinn knew his opponent, knew his reputation for cruelty and working his slaves to death. He kept upping the bid, until he finally won.
His reward
Disgusted at his own thoughts, he wished Opal a pleasant evening and went in search of Cam.
His friend was waiting in the cabin, anxiety showing on a face that was usually blank.
Quinn shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “She wouldn’t sell.”
“Why?”
“Something about the girl being the only one who could dress her hair properly,” Quinn replied. “Properly. Hell, that’s the best reason in the world to get rid of her.”
He went over to a cabinet and took out a bottle of brandy, pouring a drink for each of them. Quinn then sat down, putting his booted legs on a chair and gazing into his glass morosely. It was the one drink he allowed himself before playing cards. During the game he drank colored water.
“Damn,” he said, in reply to Cam’s painful silence. The man asked for so little, expected so little. “We’ll get her,” he said slowly. “I promise.”
Cam leaned against the wall. “We can’t do anything on the Lucky Lady.”
“No,” Quinn answered. “But I know her family. Perhaps it’s time I stopped at the Seaton plantation and inquired about the possibility of carrying their cotton. Perhaps by then Miss Seaton will be tired of her. She doesn’t seem the type to stick to anything long.”
“If she does?”
“We’ll get in touch with the Parson. See what he can do.”
Cam nodded. The Parson operated a very successful Underground Railroad station near Vicksburg.
“He’ll find a way….”
Cam sat down heavily, his eyes bleak despite Quinn’s words. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about the girl he had seen so briefly. But something smothering and heavy settled around his heart.
“There’s another agent in the area,” Quinn continued, trying to ease the anguish he saw in Cam. “But I don’t have a name. It’s one they keep secret. Everything goes through the Parson. Between them we can get her out.”
Cam’s face was etched with frustration. “She’s so young, and so frightened. If only I could say something…”
Quinn sighed. “We can’t risk the Lucky Lady,” he said. “Not for just one person. I don’t think anything will happen to her with Miss Seaton.”
“Daphne said she seemed ‘kind enough.’” There was a hesitancy, a question, in his voice that sought reassurance. It seemed strange in this big man who was so terrifying in his anger and so gentle in his kindness. It was a miracle, Quinn thought, that the kindness had survived.
He had first seen Cam on the auction block. He was heavily chained, which was unusual. Most traders removed chains, knowing their presence indicated an unruly and troublesome slave. But perhaps the trader knew it would be obvious anyway because Cam’s back was crisscrossed with both old and new scars.
Quinn had been back in New Orleans only four months when he had stopped by the slave auction. He would never know what drew him there for he usually avoided them. His family had several household slaves who, it seemed, had been with the Devereuxs forever, and they had always been more like family than servants.
But he had been frustrated and dissatisfied for reasons he didn’t understand, and he had decided to visit his favorite tavern. It was a trip he took with increasing frequency, much to Brett’s dismay. He had to walk past the slave market to get there. It was then he saw Cam’s defiant stance, and it brought back all the deep agony of his own past. He looked into eyes that glittered with hate and a kind of hopelessness that struck Quinn to the core.
Much to his surprise, he found himself joining in the bidding, which climbed to unexpectedly high levels until there were only two bidders left. Quinn knew his opponent, knew his reputation for cruelty and working his slaves to death. He kept upping the bid, until he finally won.
His reward
Similar Books
