Chapter 7
Elizabeth stepped into her assigned bedroom in the parsonage and looked around curiously.
It was not a large room, and it was simply furnished with a bed and blankets.
Mosquito netting was draped over the bed’s simple four poster frame to protect the sleeper from annoying insects.
There were two windows in one wall, both with plain white curtains.
There was a small dresser and a closet. The walls were painted white and the floor made of simple wooden boards.
It was nothing like her bedroom — her former bedroom — at Longbourn, but it was neat and clean, and suddenly she felt overwhelmingly tired. Elizabeth lay down on the comfortable mattress, and within minutes she fell into an exhausted sleep.
When she awoke, she was briefly disoriented. Why was it so light in the cabin?
But no, she was no longer on-board ship, but in Christiansted, St. Croix, thousands of miles away from England and Jane and all those who were dear to her. She blinked back a silly tear and then rolled to her feet determinedly. She would not weep now. Weeping was for the night.
There was a basin on the dresser and a pitcher next to it, blessedly full of water.
Elizabeth poured water into the basin and quickly washed her face and hands.
After an attempt to tidy her hair without a mirror, she opened the door and made her way down the hallway and stairway.
At the bottom was a thin young woman with very dark skin who was obviously with child.
The woman looked up at her with a smile and gestured toward the back door.
“Eat outside,” she said, her words charmingly altered by an unfamiliar accent.
Elizabeth nodded and returned the smile before walking out another hall and through a door into a courtyard of utter enchantment.
She took a few steps forward and found herself spinning around slowly, her eyes filled with wonder.
The courtyard was enclosed by four buildings, one of which was the parsonage, another the church and two others of unknown purpose.
It was a large area, and while there was a section in the middle covered in paving stones, much of the yard was covered with fascinating trees and a profusion of flowers.
After weeks aboard the ship, it seemed like a glimpse of heaven.
There was soft laughter from the center of the courtyard and Elizabeth looked over with curiosity. Helena Kendall was seated on a wooden chair, and next to her sat a woman of some fifty-five summers. Both were gazing at her with clear amusement.
“I am sorry,” Elizabeth said apologetically, “It is so beautiful that I was quite distracted.”
“Not at all, my dear,” the older lady replied, rising to her feet. She was very tan, with dark hair heavily streaked with gray, and her expression was kind. “This courtyard is my pride and joy, so I appreciate it when guests enjoy it.”
“I do, it is amazing.”
“Elizabeth,” Helena said cheerfully, “please let me introduce you to Mrs. Balfour, the wife of the clergyman whom my husband is replacing here at the church. Mrs. Balfour, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Please do sit down, Miss Bennet, and partake of a small nuncheon. I would surmise that the timing of your meals is currently discombobulated.”
“They are indeed. Is that ...?”
“A pineapple, yes!” Helena said enthusiastically. “My dear Elizabeth, it is the most amazing fruit in the world. You know that few foods taste good to me now, but this is incredible.”
Elizabeth took a seat with pleasure and, at a gesture from Mrs. Balfour, helped herself to a small dish of the yellow fruit. She stabbed her fork into one piece and lifted it into her mouth. Her mouth exploded with an exquisite mix of sweet and sour, and she moaned in genuine delight.
“Oh, this is marvelous!” she murmured. “Amazing.”
“It is not surprising that pineapples are so incredibly expensive in Britain, is it?” the older lady said with a smile. “I will miss them when we return to Kent.”
Elizabeth looked around gravely, “I would think you would miss many things, Mrs. Balfour. Do you have family in England?”
“Two sons and two daughters, yes,” the lady replied. “They are all grown and married and we have seven grandchildren, four of whom I have never met. I look forward to returning very much, but I will miss St. Croix as well. We have been here for seven years.”
“Please tell me about the servants,” Helena requested. “I gather that the young lady with child does not speak much English?”
“No, Sarah is an intelligent young woman but she has not learned much English. I speak some of the local Creole and we manage to communicate, but you will need to be patient with her.”
“And the father of her child?” Helena asked delicately.
Mrs. Balfour took a sip of tea, “Her husband Jacob is a fisherman, though he also works for us on occasion when we need a strong young man to assist us with various tasks. He and Sarah live in a pleasant room on the top floor of the parsonage.”
The woman hesitated and then continued, “They are both former slaves.”
Elizabeth gasped, “Slaves!”
The two other women looked at her and Mrs. Balfour leaned forward, “You do know, my dear, that the sugar plantations are largely run using slave labor?”
Elizabeth Bennet stared at the lady, her eyes suddenly filled with tears, her face suffused with a mixture of horror and embarrassment.
She had not thought about it. How could she have been such a fool?
Everyone knew that most sugar came from Caribbean sugar plantations, and those plantations were run using slave labor.
“You have had a very hard time of it,” Helena said kindly, putting a gentle hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “You lost your father and your home and there were other complications.”
“I feel witless,” Elizabeth whispered. “I just did not consider it. It is quite horr ...”
She trailed off, uncertain. She had to live with these people, and she did not know their views on slavery.
Mrs. Balfour finished for her, “Horrible, yes it is. My husband and I, and Mr. and Mrs. Kendall, are all completely opposed to this vile practice of enslaving human beings. In time, I believe slavery will be stamped out in the Caribbean, but for now, all we can do is assist as we can. Sarah and Jacob have worked hard for many years, saving up money, and three months ago they were able to buy their freedom.”
“That is possible?” Elizabeth asked in wonder.
The older lady nodded, “Slaves are each permitted a plot of land of his or her own where they can grow vegetables, and there is a weekly market here in Christiansted where the slaves can sell produce and fish that they have caught in the sea. If they can save enough money, which is not an easy task, they are able to buy their freedom. In Jacob’s case, he had some savings left by his mother, who died only six months ago.
We are all thankful they were able to purchase their manumission; Sarah’s child would have been born a slave if she had still been in bondage at the birth. ”
“It is in every way despicable,” Elizabeth said angrily, shaking her head.
“It is,” Mrs. Balfour stated with a determined nod of her head. “The abolitionists in England are working to end slavery in the colonies, but they have not yet succeeded. I can only hope and pray that their attempts will bear fruit soon.”