Amongst The Jasmine

Chapter 2

About one score and seven days passed. The parish of St. James went about as it usually did. Free black people walked the streets, some attempting to earn a penny if they hadn't had the luxury of owning land. Some women sold goods they made with their own bare hands, such as doilies and handkerchiefs. Others sold fruit that they grew themselves.

The Allen girls were lucky in that they were not forced to do such labor. They had the profit of their family's farm to pull them to quite a comfortable place in the economy. However, the status of their arrangement was always tentative. After the death of Mr. Allen, their father, the estate went without a man to run it.

Neighboring estates took pity due to the cause of the vacant position, and so they continued to have business with the small farm. Many didn't realize that even when Mr. Allen was alive, Mrs. Allen took liberties in partaking in the monetary affairs. Already it was taboo to work farm run by a negro family, and twice as taboo for it to be a negro woman. However, Mr. and Mrs. Allen's business endeavors made buying from the farm far too tempting to pass up. Color and gender became peripheral manners when it came to making a profit.

The Allen sisters walked through the town square on their way home after an afternoon of shopping. As sellers asked if they wished to buy anything while they passed, they all looked at Felice first. Her pale skin caused them to assume she had money. This was a common misstep made, the idea that fairness on a black body somehow equaled financial privilege.

Mabel, the youngest Allen sister, was greeted by her friend that was just about her age. "Mabel! There you are."

"Hello there, Sarah." Mabel laughed as her friend greeted her. They both were vivacious and excited to see one another, even though they'd only seen each other every day. Julia and Felice walked beside the girls, but they didn't care to join their conversation.

"Do you like my petticoat? It's brand new." Asked Sarah to Mabel, lifting her dress a little.

"It's delightful! Did your father buy it?" Mabel asked.

"No, my mother made it. Daddy sold enough yam to get the fabric for it to be made." Sarah replied. "I haven't money like you all."

"We haven't money either, trust." Mabel giggled.

"My gosh! I almost forgot!" Sarah stopped immediately.

"What causes you such excitement?" Mabel asked her friend as she stopped walking. Julia and Felice both continued walking forward.

"A new Buckra purchased a big house in Rose Hall. He's right by the Palmer estate." Said Sarah to Mabel. The two girls snickered and gossiped together.

"You mean the Palm Hill estate? I wonder why he'd buy that." Mabel questioned. Felice began to listen in.

"He's handsome too, that's what I've heard." Said Sarah. Felice immediately stepped in front of Sarah, causing her to immediately stop. Her boots dug into the dusty ground below them.

"Who is this Buckra that you speak of?" Felice asked. "What's his name?"

"I don't know his name." Answered Sarah, who was a little bit intimidated by Felice questions. Felice was significantly older than her and so she made her nervous.

"Well, you must know. You heard about him." Felice insisted.

"I swear, I never heard his name. I just heard a rich Brit was moving here." Sarah repeated. "Why do you ask?"

Felice walked away and went to the nearest woman who was selling coconut. "Excuse me. Yes, you. Have you heard of anyone purchasing the Palm Hill estate?"

"I wonder what possesses you to speak to me so casually?" Asked them older woman. Felice looked down at her feet. When Felice showed sorrow, then woman answered her original question. "I read about a bachelor purchasing Palm Hill. His name was Brudenwell."

Just at the mention of his name, Felice began to have excitement. She had begun to worry that her British admirer had forgotten all about her.  But now it was revealed he truly kept the promise of his return.

All three of the Allen girls were unwed, which in the white world would be rather strange for the two eldest. But, in the laid back West Indian society there was no rush to marry off every girl as fast as possible. Mobility of class was not as accessible to black girls as it were to white ones, and so there wasn't an itch to marry.

Felice decided it was imperative that she rushed home to prepare for her lover's appearance. She had much to do, like curling her hair and getting out her best dress. She practically dragged her sisters out of the market so they'd return.

Upon their arrival to their estate, the hems of their dresses were dirtied with mud. They all had perspiration on their skin and Felice's loosely curled hair was no match for the humidity. They headed toward their house, which was a comfortable size. It had a porch in the front that had decorative wooden spandrels. The house itself was one floor but had enough rooms for everyone.

Felice stomped up the porch steps and rushed inside as if she were on fire.

"Hello, Mother!" She stopped immediately when she viewed another person other than her mother in her peripheral vision. The person stood up from their seat when Felice entered the room. She turned to her mother, who sat down at their table with the very man she'd been waiting for.

"You have a guest." Felice's mother announced. Felice realized her wish to keep her love away from her mom as long as possible would go through the window.

"Honorable Brudenwell." Felice bowed. Her heart pounded in her chest. "How wonderful it is to once again make your acquaintance."

"As it is the same for me." He bowed to her.

"Brudenwell tells me that you and he were very found of each other when he first visited the island." Her mother announced.

"Why, of course." Felice awkwardly answered.