Revelation: Scattered energies
in many dreams and desires.
Jacques’s visit, short as it was, made Marguerite quite animated. The following day, against Sheila’s advice, she insisted upon getting up early and taking on her responsibilities as a plantation owner’s wife. After breakfast in bed—two slices of cane syrup–soaked pain perdu—she made a couple of changes to the cook’s dinner menu. Bounding out of bed, she enthusiastically selected a favorite, light-colored frock to wear. Meanwhile, Sheila continued her warnings.
“You’re not well enough, Marguerite. You need more rest. What’s the hurry? At least another week, now . . .”
Marguerite ignored Sheila’s admonitions and hummed to herself as her maid tightened her corset. The conical stays pressed her breasts upward, and although her waistline had not quite returned to its prepregnancy shape, the newly popular empire style would camouflage her midriff nicely. She stepped into the dress and twirled around with a smile.
“See, Mother? Good as new! I’m ready to help Jacques with the plantation.”
“You do look lovely, Marguerite, but there’s no need to rush into things,” Sheila repeated. “The most important task you have is to make sure you’re strong and healthy to become pregnant again.”
“I’m fine, and my husband needs me! If you could have seen how sad he was to see me still in bed . . . Bless his heart, he did not want to wear me out, so he did not stay long, but I know he misses me. We are a team. I must not let him down! I know you have overseen the domestic responsibilities during my recuperation, Mother, and I thank you. But I’m ready and able now.”
Sheila seemed to grasp that Marguerite was determined to take on her duties, so she did not argue any further.
“In fact,” her daughter continued, “I think we shall have a party. It’s been so long since we’ve had laughter in this house. Yes—a fine celebration! The men will hunt, the women will play tennis, and at night we will all dance. We’ll have a feast: fried oysters, pheasant, quail, salads, and fruitcake. Oh, won’t that be fun, Mother? Jacques will be so pleased. I can’t wait to tell him!”
Marguerite danced out of her bedroom, eager to find Jacques. She spotted him outside, behind the main house, with his servant Tobias, watching some workers build a new row of slave cabins.
She stopped to observe her husband and slave for a minute. With their hats on, they were almost identical from behind. Both were close to six feet in height, slim, and brawny. The two also had a sort of vibrant energetic aura, which was very apparent during their animated discussions. And, she thought, each was handsome in his own way. Jacques had reddish-blond hair topping his tanned complexion and complemented by his remarkable green eyes; Tobias had thick, wavy, sable-colored hair; a lustrous, dark complexion; and large, burnt umber–like eyes.
They had grown up together; Tobias’s parents had been house slaves for Jacques’s folks. The boys were inseparable as playmates. Tobias also learned how to read and write with Jacques; the tutor found both students capable, competent, and competitive, and the fact that they challenged each other enhanced their performances. Tobias also had a flair for numbers, as well as farming. After Jacques’s parents passed away, the young master often conferred with Tobias when planning additions to or changes in the plantation.
And, Marguerite thought, like a brother, Tobias had been there for Jacques when his parents had passed away, and, of course, when the baby had died. Jacques had no siblings; how fortunate, she thought, that he had Tobias.
Master and slave were now comfortably talking and nodding to each other. Jacques smiled at something Tobias had pointed out.
“Jacques!” she called out. “Hello!”
Jacques said something to Tobias, and the slave nodded and headed toward his quarters, which were above Jacques’s office.
“Marguerite! What a surprise!”
His wife hurried to his side and drew her arm through his. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You look very pretty today, dear; you must be feeling better!”
“Yes, darling, I feel wonderful and am ready to resume my role as plantation mistress. And I have the most marvelous idea: let’s have a party! I know you’re busy with these buildings and the planting, so Mother and I will take care of all the arrangements.”
Jacques hesitated for just a moment and then said, “Marguerite, that’s a splendid idea!” He added, “But you’re right—this is a busy time of year. The men are still positioning the seed stems into the furrowed ground.”
“Look!” He pointed first to the slave cabins and then beyond, to the toiling field hands. “We’re planning on a bigger yield, which is why we need more housing for additional slaves. Before harvest, I must acquire more hogsheads for the raw sugar, as well as barrels for the molasses. And, of course, we’re building a new sugar mill, so we need to get more animals to power it. Tobias and I are sure that sugar will be Louisiana’s next big crop. Cotton will still be strong, of course, because of the cotton gin, but . . .”
He stopped for a second, noticing the look on Marguerite’s face.
“Now, darling, don’t pout! Of course you’ll have your party; it’s a grand idea. But I won’t be able to help you very much. Remember that running a plantation is a year-round business. Especially this year, with the expansion, I have to watch my crop prices, my slaves’ numbers and needs, and the water level. But I’m certain you and your mother will give the finest party Louisiana has ever had!”
“Oh, Jacques,” she said. “We will indeed! Thank you, my darling.” Then, wiping her brow, she added, “My, it’s so warm and muggy out here!”
“Yes, it’s been a very hot and uncomfortable summer this year. You should probably stay inside with your mother.”
“You’re right, Jacques. I love the way you try to take care of me. Well, I was just going to the kitchen to make some changes for our dinner with the head cook. I’ll send a cold drink out for you.”
“Thank you, darling. Oh, and send one out for Tobias, too. We’ll be in my office.”