Page 31 of The Unforgiven
“Because I’m taking you on an outing. I’m in need of a companion, and you’re in need of a change of scenery. You’ve been cooped up in this house for three weeks. Things would be different if Amelia wasn’t near her time, but I’m afraid socializing is off the table right now, until after the child is born. Cissy, fetch Miss Madeline’s bonnet and parasol,” he said to Cissy, who had come in with a fresh pot of coffee and a plate of bacon.
“Sho thing, Mr. George.”
“There’s no need to rush. Miss Madeline hasn’t had her breakfast yet, and I think I’ll help myself to a bit more bacon.” George held out his cup and Cissy refilled it before leaving the room. George popped a piece of bacon into his mouth and rolled his eyes in ecstasy, making Madeline laugh.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she helped herself to bacon and eggs.
“You’ll see. I promise you’ll like it.”
Madeline felt a frisson of excitement. George was right; she had been cooped up. She didn’t receive any social invitations of her own, and life at the plantation was quiet and uneventful. Madeline had nothing to compare it to since she didn’t know what it had been like before Amelia’s pregnancy, but she hoped there would be more diversions after the baby came. She rushed to finish her breakfast and accepted her bonnet from Cissy, who adjusted the angle and tied the ribbons just beneath Madeline’s left ear before allowing her to leave.
“There now. That’s better. You enjoy yourself, Miss Madeline,” Cissy said as she handed her a parasol.
The butler, Jonas, held the door open for Madeline and gave her a respectful bow. “Have a good day, miss,” he said solemnly.
“Thank you. I am sure I will.”
George was already outside, waiting for her by the carriage. The driver, whose name Madeline didn’t know, was seated on the bench, and tipped his hat to her as if she were the daughter of the house. He would have ignored her at any other time, as almost everyone at the plantation did, but being with George elevated her status and suddenly made her visible.
For the first time in her life Madeline longed for something of her own. How splendid it would be to have her own home andher own servants and not feel like a poor relation, treated like a charity case and constantly reminded of her good fortune to have been taken in and not consigned to the streets. It was a heady feeling to be treated with respect, especially by George, who made her feel like a lady as he held out his hand and helped her into the carriage, then took a seat opposite her, smiling broadly.
It was a glorious September morning and Madeline felt lighter than she had in weeks. Wherever George was taking her had to be better than spending the day hiding in the library, nursing her grief. The carriage rolled along the avenue and through the gates, then turned onto the River Road.
Madeline’s mouth formed a little “O” of disbelief when the carriage pulled up to a busy dock. TheNatchez V, one of the most graceful and elegant steamboats she had ever seen, was in the process of being loaded with bales of cotton. About a dozen Negro men came and went, sweating profusely as they brought the cargo aboard while the crew waited for them to finish and urged them to hurry. Several passengers looked on from the upper deck, expressions of boredom and impatience on their faces. They’d seen this countless times, but for Madeline it was all new.
“That’s our cotton,” George said proudly. “It’s going up the river to a mill in Ohio.”
“Are we going to Ohio?” Madeline asked, shocked. She’d never been further than the Arabella Plantation, and the thought alarmed her. She didn’t have anything with her except a small reticule in which she carried a handkerchief and a few coins.
“No, silly, we’re only going as far as New Orleans. Amelia mentioned you have a fondness for steamboats, so I thought I’d bring you along. We can have lunch in town after I’ve completed my business and return by the River Road. I thought it’d make for a pleasant day.”
“Oh, it will. Thank you, George,” Madeline gushed. She’d never been on a steamboat despite begging Daddy to take her. He’d always promised to take her someday when she was older,but that day never came. Madeline wasn’t sure how long the trip to New Orleans was, but just being aboard a boat would be an amazing treat all the same. “Can we go on the upper deck?” she asked, breathless with excitement.
“Of course. We can do anything you like.”
Madeline beamed. George was so kind. He gave her his arm and they ascended the ramp. Had Madeline been younger, she’d have wanted to run around and explore the great vessel, but since she was fifteen, she had to contain her curiosity and behave in a ladylike fashion.
“Let me give you a tour of the boat. It’s not due to sail for another half hour at the very least, so we can explore at our leisure.”
“Yes, please.”
George showed Madeline every inch of the boat. He even took her up to meet the captain, who knew him well and welcomed them inside like old friends. The captain was a short, round man of about fifty, with a neatly trimmed white beard and light-blue eyes in a face tanned to deep bronze by years spent on the water.
“Would you like to take the wheel?” the captain asked, grinning at Madeline. “No one is allowed to steer but myself and my first mate, but you can be honorary captain until we sail.”
Madeline nodded. The wheel felt smooth and warm beneath her fingers. What would it be like to spend one’s days on the river, just going from place to place, and never stopping anywhere long enough to put down roots? She gave the wheel an experimental nudge, wondering how far the Mississippi flowed. Did the steamboat sail as far as New York or Boston?
“How’s your missus, captain?” George asked, dispelling Madeline’s romantic notion of a rootless existence.
“Oh, she’s peart. Thank you for asking, Mr. Besson. Blessed me with another boy this summer. I’m thankful they areboth well, but a girl might have been nice. That’s six boys I’ve got,” the captain said, his chest swelling with pride. “Six fine boys.”
“My congratulations to you both. I might have a boy of my own before long,” George boasted, beaming at the captain.
“Well, it’s about time, if you ask me,” the captain replied, patting George on the back.
“It sure is.”
“They’ve finished the loading, captain,” a crewman informed him.
