THE CRY FOR FREEDOM (Winds of Betrayal) Read Free Page A

watched, studying her reaction.
    Her mouth curved upward in a knowing smile, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “They could find me a rich husband—is that what you’re implying?”
    “You find that amusing?”
    She eyed him, her lips curled in scorn. “Do you think that’s what I’m looking for? Or that’s what I should be looking for?” She waved a hand. “I find I don’t care for this conversation. I don’t like you or what you may consider your methods of persuasion. I’m where I’m supposed to be—here. This is what I love—my freedom. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. And, Marcus, I’m not poor. I have all I want or need.”
    “Oh, Hannah, there you are! And you, Mr. Durham…” Mother Agnes’ voice burst through the open air. She advanced to Hannah's side and took her arm. She looked from the stranger to her stepdaughter and back, exhaling with exasperation. “Hannah, no one knew where you had disappeared to. We’re about to sit for supper.…”
    “Then,” Marcus interjected, “let me escort both you lovely ladies to the table.”
    Hannah stared at her stepmother. Mother Agnes was flustered. Comprehension dawned upon her. Mother Agnes was acquainted with this disturbing man.
    Blustered, Mother Agnes answered, “I believe my husband—”
    Marcus held up a hand, and then laid his arm out for Hannah to accept. “Then it would seem Miss Corbett has no escort. It would be my pleasure to assume that role.”
    He shifted his position, blocking Mother Agnes’ view and plucked a twig from Hannah’s unruly hair. He flashed an irritating smile he evidently thought so charming. Hannah wanted to slap it off his face. She had no desire for more of his company. A protest sat upon her lips. Instead with a frown, she accepted his arm .

Chapter Two
     
    Morning dawned, a glorious sunrise. The reddish tinge reflecting off the scattered clouds promised a brilliant day. Hannah watched it from her bedroom window. A peaceful night’s sleep had eluded her. Last night’s experiences replayed constantly in her head every time she closed her eyes.
    A knock on her door disturbed her thoughts. Without waiting for a reply, it opened. Mary, one of her father's house blacks, brought in Hannah’s breakfast tray.
    “Good mornin’, Miss Hannah,” Mary said merrily with her broad, bright smile. “Mist’ Corbett tole me ya’ mite feel like takin’ yo’ breakfast in yo’ room this mornin’. She done tole me ya’ woulda sleep late, but I knew. I knew ya’ be up.”
    “I'm not hungry, Mary.”
    “Are ya sure, 'cause it’s warm? Jinnie jus’ made ‘em.” Mary sat the tray down on the table beside Hannah’s bed.
    Hannah turned her head to Mary and curved her lips slightly upward. “You can eat it if you want, Mary.”
    “Ya sure, Miss Hannah?” Mary said. Instantly the fork dug into the eggs and went to her mouth. “Don’t wanna to take ‘em if ya’ want ‘em,” she mumbled as she chewed. “Jinnie will slap me silly.”
    “I'm fine,” Hannah sighed.
    Mary, only a couple of years older than Hannah, loved to talk more than work, according to Hannah’s father; that was, in truth, why she’d managed to come to Hannah’s home. Her father bought her from a plantation owner who, in Father’s opinion, had abused her with a whip. Hannah shuddered to think about it.
    When they’d discussed the subject, Mary had told Hannah, “Don’t let it bodder ya’, Miss Hannah. Yer fader is a great man, yesum. He took me. Mr. Warren warned ‘em. Said I was no good, lazy. Look at me today—all thanks to yer fader.”
    Just seconds later, Mary put the fork down on the near-empty plate. She said, “Gimme me a sec’ and I getca’ dressed. Ya’ looked so beautiful last night. Ya’ did. Sham’ Mr. Gabriel didn’t see ya’ all dressed up like ya’ were. But Jinnie said ya’ get in trouble anyway, says trouble follows some folks, you bein’ one ‘em. That's what Jinnie said. What did ya’ do this