One soldier slogged into the Mary’s hatch. Others searched the deck, hitting along the hull as if looking for a secret passage.
Heart pounding, I stood in the breeze. It swirled my knotted scarf as I looked at the waters. Though I could swim and draw the British soldier’s fire, I couldn’t save my children from bullets.
“Stay put, Doll. No one move another inch.” Thomas marched to the soldier with the most medals pinned to his jacket. “What’s the meaning of this?”
His voice sounded calm but indignant—a trait men in silver buttons, important men, excelled in.
“Sir, we need to make sure you’re not transporting contraband.” The fellow barked more orders and gave his men permission to rip open our portmanteaus. I feared they’d take my manumission papers and burn them.
One fellow looked long at my daughter, then at me.
Thomas hopped into the boat and caught my arm. This possessive move told them we were his, his family.
He stepped again to the man examining papers. “Must we be delayed further?” His tone sounded affronted, not like he’d offered them documents sporting lies. “Your men have searched every inch of my ship. Let us be on our way.”
This man, an officer by the braiding on his jacket, slipped his finger over the pages, creasing and flipping Thomas’s handiwork. “Some rebels have escaped to Trinidad.”
“None here. We’re on our way to Barbados.”
A soldier came from below. “No stowaways or guns, sir.”
The look on Thomas’s face, his cheeky smile—the man was too smart. He’d prepared for the worst.
One soldier peered at Charlotte, making flirty eyes at her, but she offered him nothing. My daughter was a stone, quiet and still.
It was good to be rigid like a rock. If she could feel the hate they had for the rebels, for the Fédons, she might do something rash.
“Your papers are in order.” The officer pushed the documents to Thomas, and all the soldiers trudged off the boat. “Have a pleasant trip.”
They moved away and boarded another boat.
“You’re leaving here without weapons, Thomas?”
His smile was broad. “I have secrets, too, you know.”
He untied the Mary, angled the sail, and started us moving. “Josephy, secure the boom. Grab the line. Ed . . . Harry, help me tie off the sail.”
Thomas looked at me and I put his gaze into my heart.
The wind pushed us into the open sea. Big ships like William’s Andromeda were at a distance but they could easily overtake us.
“Josephy? You ready for adventure, son?” Thomas put the boy’s palm to the tiller.
“Yes, Papa.” He was a proper little reefer.
Young Harry plopped at my feet. His little body had shivers, but he was trying to be brave.
Charlotte’s gaze remained on Grenada. The view was better now. The steam of crater lake could be seen, swirling the rebel stronghold.
“You think the Fédons will win, Mama? You think Julien and Rose will lead our people to victory?”
“Maybe.”
Couldn’t tell her the truth. Once the British frigates brought more troops and hit the ground with all their numbers and guns, the rebel coloreds and Catholics would be slaughtered.