The black swan Read Free

Edmund might sell her.
    But tonight! Edmund would never remember, but he'd take Tom's word. And bet your boots, Edmund would ask Jarvis, just to make sure.
    "Jarvis!"
    "Yassuh!" Jarvis beamed fit to blind Tom. "You ready fo' de las' glass?"

    Tom's stomach jumped uneasily. "Hoi* off on that. Lis'n, Jarvis, 'member how much I 'greed to pay Emmun' for my house nigger?"
    The black face took on a crafty look. "Ah wa'n't lis'nin', Mastah Tom."
    "Grea' day, Jarvis! It's yo' duty to lis'n! Emmun' gon' ast you!"
    " 'Spect Ah do 'member," Jarvis smiled happily. Tom shut his eyes against the flash of teeth. "Fo' thousan' dollahs, gold. She mus' be some fancy house nigger!"
    Two of the waiters were circling slowly in a dance, while a third beat rhythm. As Tom watched, one of the dancers fell over. The others burst into hilarious laughter, picked him up, and staggered out with him.
    Tom pointed. "Wha—?"
    Jarvis laughed richly. "He plumb tuckered out, suh. This yo' las' glass."
    "Po' it on out, then, an' hoi' that gobboon up heah, 'cause it's comin' right back up. Then you get us in the carriage, so's we can go to Emmun's."
    "Mastah Ross an' Mastah Edmun', dey's asleep, Mastah Tom."
    "They won't gi' you any trouble." Tom shut his eyes tight and downed the anisette, as choky-strong as ever. He felt as if he'd been hit with a mallet. But he had won.
    Chapter Two
    The soiree at Pickett's plantation was in full swing. Miss Carrie's beautiful old rosewood piano tinkled accompaniment to her silvery soprano voice, raised in a haunting new tune, "My Old Kentucky Home." She'd be going back to Kentucky soon.
    She hadn't been able to make her late husband's plantation pay. She didn't lack the spirit. Though she had tried hard for three years, a succession of overseers and factors had taken advantage of her ignorance and good nature, robbing her shamefully. But for Edmund—who must have been a little sweet on her—she'd be sitting on the doorstep of the poorhouse.

    Tom handed Sable's reins to a black boy and flipped him a large penny. The boy stuck the penny into his mouth for safekeeping. Tom mounted the steps to the broad, shady veranda.
    "Tom! I was beginnin' to think you were goin' to insult me, not comin' to my pahty!" The Widow Pickett wore a low-cut dress of magenta silk that complimented her black curls and creamy skin. She put a dainty hand on Tom's arm.
    Tom bowed low, kissing her hand longer than politeness demanded. His practiced gaze skimmed her small waist and bosoms, laced into complaisant prominence.
    He looked deep into her eyes. "Miss Carrie, if I insulted you, may I pick the weapons?"
    She laughed, a happy gushing sound. "What might youah weapons be, Tom?"
    "Would you accept sweet nothings at two paces?"
    She blushed clear down to the top of her gown. "Tom, youah awful! Merton better fetch you a drink, so's you'll have somethin' to hoi' besides mah hand!"
    Tom squeezed her hand gently. "Miss Carrie, you're pretty as a hibiscus blossom today. I plumb lost mastery over myself."
    "I've taken off my mournin' for the pahty." She cast down her eyes. "I'll always miss deah Calvin, but life goes on, doesn't it?"
    "Wouldn't surprise me if you'll get a whole raft of proposals this evenin', Miss Carrie. You're enough to make a sane man wonder why he's single."
    She giggled. "If I don't sound too bold, Tom, I been meanin' to ask you that myself." In her long-lashed dark eyes there was invitation.
    "I don't believe I rightly know, Miss Carrie. Maybe I've had my eyes shut."
    Ross's grating voice cut in. "Wish you had, Tom boy. I was jus' beginnin' to think I was the one makin' time with the lady. Miss Carrie honey, the gentlemen have been ask-in' if you'd favor us with another song."
    "I certainly will if you ask me, Ross." Carrie gave him a melting look and drifted inside. Presently she was heard singing, "Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge . . ."
    "Who won the purse, Tom?"
    "Thought you said you were goin' to win