Slaves of Obsession

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Authors: Anne Perry
Tags: Historical, Mystery
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would cause me to renege on my commitment to him. I have no guns to sell you; that is the sum of the situation.”
    “Give Trace back his deposit,” Breeland challenged him. “Tell him you are no slaver! Or are you?”
    “Insults offend me,” Alberton said grimly, his face dark. “They do not change my mind. I agreed to see you because I was afraid you would not leave my house until I had. There is nothing more for us to discuss. Good evening, sir.”
    Breeland did not move. His face was pale, his hands clenched at his sides. But before he could find the words to retaliate, the door opened behind him, and Merrit Alberton came in.
    Her gown was deep pink, her fair hair elaborately coiled but now in some disarray. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes brilliant. She ignored Monk, glanced only briefly at Breeland, but deliberately stood close beside him. She addressed her father.
    “What you are doing is immoral! You have made a mistake in offering the guns to the Confederates. You would never have thought of doing it were they rebels against England!”Her voice was rising higher and sharper all the time in her indignation. “If we still had slavery here, would you sell guns to slave traders so they could shoot at our army, and navy, even our men and women in their own homes, because we wanted all people to be free? Would you?”
    “That is hardly a comparison, Merrit—”
    “Yes, it is! The Rebels keep slaves!” She was shaking with emotion. “They buy men and women, and children, and use them like animals! How could you sell guns to people like that? Have you no morality at all? Is it just money? Is that it?” Almost unconsciously she was moving even closer to Breeland, who was watching with an almost impassive face.
    “Merrit—” Alberton began.
    But she cut him off. “There’s no argument can justify what you are doing! I am so ashamed of you I can hardly bear it!”
    He made a gesture of helplessness. “Merrit, it is not so simple as—”
    Again she refused to listen. She still seemed unaware of Monk’s presence. Her voice rose even more shrilly as her outrage drove her on. “Yes, it is! You are selling guns to people who keep slaves, and they are at war with their countrymen who want to prevent that and set the slaves free.” She flung her arm out furiously. “Money! It’s all about money, and it’s pure evil! I don’t know how you, my own father, can even try to justify it, let alone be part of it. You are selling death to people who will use it in the worst possible cause!”
    Breeland moved as if to put his hand on her arm.
    At last Alberton’s temper gave way. “Merrit, be quiet! You don’t know what you are talking about! Leave us alone.…”
    “I won’t! I can’t,” she protested. “I do know what I am talking about. Lyman has told me. And so do you, that’s the worst of it! You know, and still you are prepared to do it!” She took a step towards him, ignoring Monk and Breeland, her face crumpled, brows drawn down. “Please, Papa! Please, for the sake of all the enslaved, for the sake of justice and freedom, above all for your own sake, sell the guns tothe Union, not to the Rebels! Just say you can’t support slavery. You won’t even lose any money … Lyman can pay you the whole amount.”
    “It’s not about money.” Alberton’s voice was also louder now, and sharp with hurt. “For God’s sake, Merrit, you know me better than that!” He ignored Breeland as if he had not been present. “I gave my word to Trace and I won’t break it. I don’t agree with slavery any more than you do, but I don’t agree with the Union’s forcing the South to remain part of it under their government either, if they don’t want to! There are lots of different kinds of freedom. There’s freedom from hunger and the bondage of poverty as well as the sort of slavery you’re talking about. There’s—”
    “Sophistry!” she said, her face flooding with color. “You’re happy enough

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