Chapter Nine
It took a full day for the paperwork to be finalized, the money to be transferred and the marriage license to be signed. Temperance had wanted to refuse but when one had a knife against their ribs they tended to do what they were told.
She, and her new husband Trevor Montgomery, then took a train for two days to his southern Georgia plantation. Temperance had never ridden on a train and while she was terrified the entire time that Trevor would hurt her, she couldn't help but enjoy the scenery as she sat in the compartment he had allowed her to ride in by herself.
Trevor didn't touch the entire trip. She had thought he would take advantage of those lessons that Yancy and his friends had taught to her but he didn't. He had made it clear that death would come for her should she attempt to escape him while on this train and that she was to stay in her compartment and never leave. He had her meals brought to her and she found herself growing very bored.
It had been a long time since she'd pulled out Robert's journal and read the words but she found herself doing so once again to pass the lonely hours. She found that given the life she'd been living the last six months, the horrors in his journal no longer sounded so terrifying. As a matter of fact, they sounded quite tame.
She found that she could no longer summon the childish infatuation she had had with the man. She could scarcely recall what he looked like. With a sigh, Temperance opened the small window and tossed the journal and Robert's coat out of it followed by the doll and the hair clip that had once belonged to her sisters.
It was better to forget about the past. She could never go back there anyway.
Temperance had known that Trevor was a wealthy man given the vast amount of money he had paid for her but never in her wildest dreams could she have pictured a home as vast and grand as the one that she saw before her after a three hour cart ride from the train station.
She was sitting beside Trevor in a cart as he held the reins and he noticed the way her jaw dropped when they passed through the gates. "This is my home. Montgomery Plantation has been in my family for generations. We have thirty slaves on the premises...I mean servants of course. They are paid a salary now in full compliance with the law."
There was a sarcasm and coldness in his voice that had Temperance shivering. Several of the servants were working in the fields they past and they appeared tired and run down. Temperance moved her gaze back to the large white home. With three stories and massive balconies and pillars, it was truly something to behold. The barns were nicer than any home Temperance had ever seen. There were stone walkways, fountains and flowers. Everything here seemed to ooze money.
It looked like a paradise....oh how deceiving looks could be.
Temperance saw men, like the ones that had met her and Trevor at the train station and accompanied them here, lounging on the porch of the large manor. These men wore low slung gun belts and wide brimmed hats. They looked dangerous with their squinting eyes and stern expressions.
Temperance suspected they were guards of sorts, though why Trevor needed guards, she didn't know. He was an imposing, intimidating man who demanded obedience without the help of armed thugs. There was something about the man and his presence that commanded fear and obedience without him having to say a word or become heavy handed.
No one spoke to her as they rode closer to the house and Temperance kept her head down as Trevor led her into the grand home. Polished, gleaming floors, papered walls, crystal chandeliers and heavy dark furniture all caught her attention as she followed along behind him.
Temperance didn't know what to expect. She didn't know if she would be permitted to speak and she didn't want to cause this man--who so far hadn't harmed her--to suddenly lash out. It was worse than her time with Yancy. With Yancy she had at least known what she could or could not do and how he would react--Trevor was new and Temperance would have to learn all over again.
Minutes later she found herself alone in a bedroom. It was a nice bedroom with polished dark furniture, a canopy bed much larger than the tiny mattress she had shared with her sisters, and a vanity that was delicate and quite pretty. The walls were light yellow and the floral rug beneath her feet seemed soft and thick. But it was a prison. A fancy one--but a prison just the same.
Temperance went to a set of French doors and swung them open, allowing the cool November air to blow against her skin as she stepped out onto the balcony covered in ivy.
Fields of cotton, wheat, barley and corn stretched out in all directions and she could smell apples and oranges from the orchard that lay behind the manor. Horses and cattle were grazing to the east and Temperance marveled at how much money a person must have to possess to have a home like this one.
Temperance had never been around many colored people but she could see them working hard. Hanging clothes, working in the fields and tending to the barns. The armed guards were yelling out now and then--calling out terrible things to the women who would walk past them.
Temperance shivered at the names they used.
A colored woman brought her a tray of food later that day but she didn't speak a word before leaving the room just as quickly as she had come. Temperance ate alone and then curled up upon her soft bed. She wondered what her husband was doing--how strange to call the man her husband. She hadn't spoke to him a single time. He had threatened her several times, let her know that he expected to be obeyed without question and that was that.
She supposed she could do worse than a rich husband who ignored her. She just prayed that he would continue to ignore her--but a nagging voice in her mind let her know that was a baseless hope. The man would not spend ten thousand dollars for something he paid no attention to.
It wasn't until three days later that Temperance saw the first true sign of her husband's temper and the evil that lay within him. She had been locked in her room the entire time since arriving had not seen him once. She found out on that third day that he had been gone to a nearby city on business.
But that day, Temperance saw him riding back in. She had pulled the chair from her vanity out onto the balcony and was enjoying the sunshine and unseasonably warm weather--or perhaps it was typical for southern Georgia in November--Temperance couldn't say for sure.
The moment Trevor rode in, two of his guards met him in the yard. Temperance saw them moving their hands animatedly as they spoke to him. Trevor's face had become a mask of anger that Temperance could see even from a distance.
He had pointed toward the servants quarters and the men rushed off. Temperance watched on with interest but that interest quickly turned to trepidation when the men came back dragging a boy no older than thirteen or fourteen between them.
A man and woman, Temperance knew must be the boy's parents, were screaming but being held back by several more servants and men. The boy was dragged to Trevor and shoved down to his knees.
"Did you steal from me?" Trevor's voice boomed and echoed off the surrounding buildings. He wasn't yelling--his voice was simply that commanding.
"No, sir! No, sir! I swears it, sir! I didn't steal from ya!" the boy sobbed as tears ran down his dark cheeks.
Temperance was standing now and gripping the banisters of her balcony prison. What was Trevor going to do?
"I was told you took food from the cellar. Are you saying my men are lying to me or are you a liar as well as a thief?" Trevor demanded coldly.
The boy whimpered. "Sir... I only took a jar of apples, sir. My baby sister needed it, sir! I was gonna pay ya for it just as soon as ya made it back, sir! I's got your money!"
Trevor shook his head. "I won't tolerate a thief."
"But I got your money! Just let me go get it!"
The man and woman that were being held back began to scream and yell in earnest when Trevor pulled his shiny revolver from the holster high on his hip. Temperance waited for someone to stop Trevor. There were many slaves here--servants Trevor called them--why did they do something?! Why didn't one of those armed men do something? Surely they didn't think it right that a young boy be killed over a jar of fruit that he was willing to pay for!
"Sir.. Please!" the boy folded his hands and pleaded. "I's got your money! I's got...."
His voice was cut off when Trevor put his gun to the boy's brow and pulled the trigger.
Temperance's cries of shock and despair were drowned out by the echo of the bullet ricocheting through the air. The man and woman fell to the ground sobbing as they crawled toward their dead son lying on the ground at Trevor's feet.
Trevor holstered his weapon and kicked the boy's father in the side, "Take my horse to the barn, now!" he ordered.
The man quickly sniffed and rose to his feet, taking the horse away without a word. Trevor sneered at the mother and then his gaze turned up toward the balcony where Temperance stood trembling with terror.
He had blood splattered on the white shirt beneath his black suit and his thin lips curved in a smile beneath his mustache and neatly trimmed goatee. He blew her a kiss and Temperance gagged. Slowly she backed away from the banister and went back in her room, closing the door to shut out the wails of the mother still clinging to her dead son.
Temperance ran to her bed and curled up to her pillow, shaking uncontrollably as she tried to erase the image of that gristly scene from her mind.
God help her. She was married to the devil.