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Authors: Elisabeth-Cristine Analise
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time they look forward to! Like Christmas, the end of a harvest is like a holiday for them."
"Ye seem too smart to sound so bloody naive, Nicollette. Ye can't really believe that the Negroes enjoy working in the fields just for a paltry bit of sugar treats, a nip of rum, and a few other rations?"
She frowned, eyeing him sharply. " Monsieur , you sound like the Abolitionists who are causing this country so much grief."
"Does being sympathetic to the plight of the slaves make me an Abolitionist?" Jared growled, his gold-green eyes unfathomable.
Nicollette shrugged with studied casualness. " Non , Monsieur Fleming, you are entitled to your opinion."
Jared swept her with a cold look and urged King George on.
" Monsieur is angry?" she persisted, pressing her silver steed forward
to keep in time with him. "I can see that you don't like plantations."
"I don't like plantations, Nicollette," Jared confessed. "More to the point, I don't like slave owners!"
"The two cannot be separated," Nicollette snapped, pierced with a startled hurt. "One cannot exist without the other."
"Typical nonsense from the daughter of a bloody plantation owner." Jared laughed scornfully. "With yer aristocratic elegance and pompous arrogance."
"How dare you stand in judgement on us!" Nicollette spat, hurt quickly
turning to seething rage. "You know nothing of our way of life.”
"I know that ye're living in a fool's paradise. A paradise that's kept alive by the sweat and blood of other human beings. Can't ye see that this cannot last forever? Don't ye see the derision? I know ye hear and read of the mounting tensions between the states. Ye're one of those women that takes an interest in politics, so ye must see that yer world as ye know it may soon come crashing down about yer heads. Think of the outcry last year over Justice Taney's decision. Surely ye know that hostilities such as those can only lead to bloodshed." Jared glared at her, into eyes flashing with anger and saw that she was not at all moved by what he said. "For God's sake, Nicollette. Open yer eyes and look around ye. Blacks have died to preserve yer way of life," he finished in hopeless frustration.
"Does PaPa know of your feelings for slave owners?" she sneered.
"Nay, Nicollette. Unlike ye, he's never asked my opinion. I suppose, like all slave owners, he assumes everyone is in accord with one philosophy."
She glowered at him. "And that is?"
"That it is all right to own slaves. After all, the Southern gentry want to live like bloody royalty and they need the Negroes to perpetuate it. Since the Negroes didn't volunteer to come to America to do the job, they were kidnapped and brought here and forced to do the white man's bidding."
What could Nicki say to Jared’s bristling resentment?
He sat, tall and angry, astride his palomino. How could she rebuke him when she knew another with similar views?
Suddenly weary, she looked him squarely in the eye. "You sound as
sympathetic as my brother, Ricard."
"Do I? How is that, Nicollette?"
"Ricard always spoke of the wrongs of slavery, the inhumanity of it. Unlike Ricard, you have nothing to lose if the South ever lost its way of life."
"But ye do. And as sympathetic as yer dear brother may be, I doubt he would jeopardize his pampered lifestyle."
Nicollette narrowed her gaze at him. "I laugh each time I hear talk of the South losing its
"Ye seem too smart to sound so bloody naive, Nicollette. Ye can't really believe that the Negroes enjoy working in the fields just for a paltry bit of sugar treats, a nip of rum, and a few other rations?"
She frowned, eyeing him sharply. " Monsieur , you sound like the Abolitionists who are causing this country so much grief."
"Does being sympathetic to the plight of the slaves make me an Abolitionist?" Jared growled, his gold-green eyes unfathomable.
Nicollette shrugged with studied casualness. " Non , Monsieur Fleming, you are entitled to your opinion."
Jared swept her with a cold look and urged King George on.
" Monsieur is angry?" she persisted, pressing her silver steed forward
to keep in time with him. "I can see that you don't like plantations."
"I don't like plantations, Nicollette," Jared confessed. "More to the point, I don't like slave owners!"
"The two cannot be separated," Nicollette snapped, pierced with a startled hurt. "One cannot exist without the other."
"Typical nonsense from the daughter of a bloody plantation owner." Jared laughed scornfully. "With yer aristocratic elegance and pompous arrogance."
"How dare you stand in judgement on us!" Nicollette spat, hurt quickly
turning to seething rage. "You know nothing of our way of life.”
"I know that ye're living in a fool's paradise. A paradise that's kept alive by the sweat and blood of other human beings. Can't ye see that this cannot last forever? Don't ye see the derision? I know ye hear and read of the mounting tensions between the states. Ye're one of those women that takes an interest in politics, so ye must see that yer world as ye know it may soon come crashing down about yer heads. Think of the outcry last year over Justice Taney's decision. Surely ye know that hostilities such as those can only lead to bloodshed." Jared glared at her, into eyes flashing with anger and saw that she was not at all moved by what he said. "For God's sake, Nicollette. Open yer eyes and look around ye. Blacks have died to preserve yer way of life," he finished in hopeless frustration.
"Does PaPa know of your feelings for slave owners?" she sneered.
"Nay, Nicollette. Unlike ye, he's never asked my opinion. I suppose, like all slave owners, he assumes everyone is in accord with one philosophy."
She glowered at him. "And that is?"
"That it is all right to own slaves. After all, the Southern gentry want to live like bloody royalty and they need the Negroes to perpetuate it. Since the Negroes didn't volunteer to come to America to do the job, they were kidnapped and brought here and forced to do the white man's bidding."
What could Nicki say to Jared’s bristling resentment?
He sat, tall and angry, astride his palomino. How could she rebuke him when she knew another with similar views?
Suddenly weary, she looked him squarely in the eye. "You sound as
sympathetic as my brother, Ricard."
"Do I? How is that, Nicollette?"
"Ricard always spoke of the wrongs of slavery, the inhumanity of it. Unlike Ricard, you have nothing to lose if the South ever lost its way of life."
"But ye do. And as sympathetic as yer dear brother may be, I doubt he would jeopardize his pampered lifestyle."
Nicollette narrowed her gaze at him. "I laugh each time I hear talk of the South losing its
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