Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Edward
We can easily manage if we will only take, each day, the burden appointed to it. Do not despair when change is slow. Only do what you can, and burden yourself no more with what awaits to be accomplished tomorrow.
JN
Relief washed over me the moment I was permitted into the viscount’s chambers. He sat up in bed, a book in hand, but his gaze on me as I entered the room. He smiled, and it eased some of the tension constricting my chest.
“Edward.” He set the book down on his lap. “I had not expected to see you again until tomorrow morning.”
I crossed the room hastily and took my seat. “I’ve just come from Willowbrook. Hollinsby is there, as is Adda. There’s at least one other, although I suspect there may be more.”
Lord Paxton’s smile faded. “Both fortunate and unfortunate news. I am glad, for your sake, that you’ve discovered Miss Adda’s location.
I am merely disappointed that Hollinsby has chosen to disregard the law.
A decorated captain such as he should be leading by example—upholding and enforcing the new legislation.
” He shook his head. “It is impossible for us to propagate change when men like him are determined to oppose it, even without the public eye.”
“You would think after well over eighteen years of political arguments and motions, his moral compass might realign. How can anyone rightly believe that the entire act of slavery is not evil? I cannot understand it.”
The viscount chuckled. “Yes, and that is what makes you an abolitionist. I do not pretend to understand the opinion of the opposing side, Edward. But they are free to have their opinions, whether we agree with them or not.”
“Indeed, but their opinions cannot override the law. They are bound to it regardless.”
A touch of sadness filled Lord Paxton’s eyes. “True, but as of yet, we’ve not enough evidence to incriminate Hollinsby or anyone who has worked with him.”
“But he has Adda and others. I saw them with my own eyes! Surely that is enough to at least warrant investigation by the magistrate? Bring it to the Admiralty?"
“Perhaps it would be if you could prove Adda has only been in England for a few months—that she was recently taken from a slave ship off the African coast and not enslaved for some time in the colonies. I will remind you that slavery, while illegal on English soil, is often ignored. Too many have a loose interpretation of the law or prefer to turn a blind eye. We cannot have confidence in conviction by the courts without more evidence, especially given Hollinsby’s reputation. He is liked by many.”
“As are you. More so than him, I would wager. How could his word hold up against yours?”
“It may not, but there is a chance. Besides, depending on how long his case is dragged out by the system, I may not be here to give my word.”
The remark sobered me. I did not wish to think on the viscount’s death, to speak of it as though it were an inevitability. I knew he would not recover—he knew it, as well—but it was not a topic I wished to linger on.
“Then what are we to do? If we do not stand against Hollinsby, who will?”
Lord Paxton sighed. “We continue to gather evidence. Now that we know he is keeping slaves at Willowbrook, we build a case against him. Witnesses, though it will be risky to obtain them. Willowbrook certainly cannot function without some servants. Find out who they are and discover if they can be trusted. If they are not loyal to Hollinsby, perhaps they can be persuaded to help us. Then there are those in town who might offer testimony.” He met my gaze.
“This you must proceed in with great caution. Trust the wrong person, and Hollinsby will flee.”
I nodded. “We suspect he’s purchased Willowbrook under a false name. Can your man of business do any more digging into the matter? That is yet another charge against the captain we could exploit.”
“Agreed, and I have my solicitor already on the task. But again, we would need substantial proof of the deception. Hollinsby could claim to have let the house from his false name. We would need to tie the two of them together irrefutably. Regardless, thus far, my solicitor has been unable to produce anything. Whoever Hollinsby has working for him has covered his tracks well.”
I pursed my lips. It did not bode well if a man as wealthy as Lord Paxton was struggling to obtain evidence.
What hope did I have of doing so on my own with my limited prize money funds?
None. I was fortunate to have the viscount’s support.
It was a reminder of why I had to take the man’s offer seriously.
Marrying Annette was a sure path to the future I wished to pursue.
If only she did not prove to be so distracting from my cause.
The irony was obnoxious, to say the least.
“What should I do going forward?” I asked. “Continue to spy on the estate at a distance and begin questioning those in town?”
Lord Paxton’s brows furrowed in thought. “Leave the spying to me. I’ll have one of my footmen see to that. You cannot possibly achieve both while also courting my daughter.”
If you simply gave me the funds instead of requiring a marriage, I could do both.
It was a selfish thought, and I shoved it aside. Lord Paxton was generous for offering me anything, and he would not yield in his stipulations. With his health so poor, he wanted his daughter’s future secured. I could not blame him, although I still did not agree with his methods.
“Very well, I will go into town first thing tomorrow morning,” I said.
“Just be careful with whom you speak and how much information you offer. Do not show too keen an interest unless you trust the person.”
I nodded once and stood to dip a bow. “I shall be careful and will inform you the moment I have something substantial.”
“Good. And, Edward?”
I stopped, having turned to leave. “Yes?”
“Do not become neglectful in your other pursuits. I assume you have restored an amicable rapport with Annette?”
Had I? Today’s interactions had been a mixture of failure and success in that regard, but we had left each other’s company on good terms. That must account for something.
“I am not certain it is fully restored, but I have made progress. We spoke just before I came to see you.”
The viscount’s smile returned. “That is good. And your conversation was pleasant?”
Pleasant? Not all of it had been enjoyable, but there were moments. I could still feel the ghost of her touch, the sensation of her in my arms. It had taken all my willpower to ignore the heady tension between us—to not abandon my resolve and kiss her.
I would not offer the viscount those details, though.
I tilted my head from side to side. “Mostly pleasant.”
“Mostly.” Lord Paxton chuckled. “Keep up that charm, and she will fall for you within the next sennight.”
My stomach plummeted. I wanted Annette to agree to marriage, but to fall in love with me?
No. That would not serve my plans. Because if Annette ever showed me that sort of regard, I would be hard-pressed not to return it.
Given my attraction and growing admiration of her spirit, falling in love with her would be far too easy.
And if there was one distraction I could not afford, it was to fall in love with my prospective wife.
The sky, still bathed in darkness, did nothing to bid my mind to sleep.
This was not the first night I had struggled, and it would certainly not be the last. Each time I closed my eyes, I was transported back to the Freedom—no, not precisely to the ship itself, but back to the dark sea and hammering waves.
I closed them anyway and let the memories sweep me away.
The slosh of the waves lapping against the ship filled my ears.
Above, stars twinkled in the night sky, and despite the relatively warm water soaking my clothes and weighing me down, a shudder vibrated through me.
Perhaps it was the knowledge that I would die in these waters and sink to a dark grave, alone and forgotten.
Or was it the knowledge that I would not be the last to suffer at Hollinsby’s hands?
Those poor souls still aboard the Freedom, there against their will, would face a much harsher future.
At least my death would come quickly. I would not spend years being abused and constrained.
I would not become a prisoner to anything but the sea.
Death was a kind of freedom that those chained in the ship’s hull longed for.
My muscles ached from my efforts to remain afloat.
After being beaten and thrown overboard, it was all I could do to keep my head above water.
Despite my impending doom, I could not convince my body to give up.
I fought the waves, gagging on the salty water.
It burned my lungs. Nausea swirled the contents of my stomach.
Calling for help was a useless endeavor.
No one would hear. Hollinsby had made certain of that.
I was too great a threat. I had seen too much.
I’d swum alongside the ship for what felt like hours, desperately clinging to the hope I would be spotted.
Cratchit, who stood at the helm, was too loyal to Hollinsby to rescue me, and the remainder of the crew were below deck, sleeping.
I could only continue this for so long before my body gave out.
Even now, the distance between myself and the ship increased.
My eyes fluttered closed, and I stopped kicking my legs. What use was it? I would drown eventually. Why not let the sea claim me on my terms?
A splash sounded to my right. My eyes flew open, and I glanced up. In the darkness, I could just make out a shadowed figure at the ship's rail, peering down at me. They gestured to the water, their movements frantic. There, not far from me, was a rope.
Instinct pressed me into motion. I swam toward the ship and seized the lifeline.
Summoning all the energy I had left, I climbed.
My arms lamented every inch, my lungs protested each inhale.
The determination to live—to fight for those who could not fight for themselves—inspired me to continue despite the desire to give up.
Reaching the rail, hands gripped my water-laden clothes and yanked me over the edge. I collapsed onto the deck, breathing hard. My vision blurred as a woman hovered over me. Her dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin were the last thing I saw before I drifted into oblivion.