Something about the woman looked familiar. Bourne sighed and took off running. He hated running after people, but he was really good at it. A few minutes later he’d tackled the man, and the woman had escaped. When she started to run away, Bourne yelled, “Tenneh—.
Rachel wonderedwhat it was about her life that just when everything seemed to be falling apart and she was at her lowest point, someone else always managed to to be in a worse situation than hers.
Captain Bellingham’s Marine Lieutenant Bourne had just brought Tenneh home from the market. Her dress was torn, and blood oozed from numerous cuts and scrapes on her arms and legs. She’d lost her sandals in the scuffle in the middle of the market that Lieutenant Bourne was trying to explain to Rachel and her father. He’d also said he’d had to notify the regiment at the Government House and he’d sent word to his commander, Captain Bellingham on theBlack Condor.
Rachel’s heart fell. He’d tell Christopher, and then it would be only a matter of time before he arrived to try to protect them and manage her life. She didn’t have much time to get to the bottom of what actually happened on her own.
“Tenneh - who was the man who tried to take you away?”
She gave Rachel a defiant look for a few minutes but then finally cracked and sobbed. “Qua…Quassir,” she finally admitted.
“You told me he was your friend, that he cared about you and was a student at our school.”
“I was wrong. You were right, Rachel.” She sat suddenly and slumped onto one of the plump, upholstered parlor chairs. “What he really wanted was to sell me to a slave trader.” A tear leaked out the side of one of her eyes. “Just like my family.”
It suddenly occurred to Rachel that here was a woman who knew she couldn’t trust her own family, but had chosen to trust a complete stranger. “Why, Tenneh? Why did you go to the market to meet this strange man?”
Tenneh said nothing but handed her a crumpled, torn corner of a sheet of paper. Rachel took the message and smoothed it out on the parlor table where she and her father played chess. She read the penciled words twice before she was able to grasp what she was seeing. “This is Mrs Chelly’s writing. Her note says she would meet you at the market with Quassir.” Rachel shook her head slowly. “Was she there when you arrived at the market?”
“No. Only Quassir.”
Rachel tucked the note into her apron pocket. “Please go to our room, Tenneh, and think about what might have been the outcome of this afternoon’s disaster. We’ll talk when I get back.”
The Vicar Berry moved as if he were coming along to Mrs Chelly’s house, but Rachel shook her head. “You need to rest and make sure Tenneh doesn’t have any more adventures today.” She looked toward Lieutenant Bourne who nodded as if he already knew what she was going to ask of him. “He’ll come with me to make sure our about-to-be former cook doesn’t cause any trouble.”
The walk into the village to the woman’s cottage was one of the most painful journeys Rachel had taken in a long time. She hated to do what she knew she must, because Mrs Chelly had been a faithful worker at the mission school and vicarage for many years. She’d been a good friend to Rachel’s mother before she’d died.
Mrs Chelly greetedher at the door and invited her into the tiny cottage. “Mrs Chelly, I…”
Lieutenant Bourne remained outside at the end of the lane.
The mission cook held up a hand and forestalled any further discussion. “Please, for the sake of what I’ve been to your family, share a cup of tea before we speak of why you are here.”
Rachel fumed silently, but complied with her wishes and sat on one of the battered chairs at her table. The other woman started the ritual of tea-making by hanging a kettle full of water on a hob over a tiny cooking grate in the middle of her small garden. She obviously knew why Rachel was there but was intent on delaying their inevitable confrontation as long as possible.
While she fussed with the tea leaves for long minutes, Rachel rehearsed in her mind what she’d say. They could not have an employee at the mission school who was in league with slavers at the edge of Freetown. If students could not feel safe at the school, they would abandon the mission, and her father’s congregation.
She finally turned and served Rachel a steaming cup of tea with heavy spices and a bit of honey. When she joined her with her own cup, Rachel took a deep draught of tea and nearly choked on the hot spices.
She set the cup down and pushed it toward the middle of the table. “That blend is a little too spicy for me.” She wiped at a drip at the corner of her mouth with her finger and felt a sting. What had she served her?
“I must know. Why did you send a note to Tenneh to meet that young slave runner in the market?”
“Because I need the money, and she will bring a fine price.”
“That’s all you have to say for yourself?”
“That’s all I need.”
“We cannot have you at the mission school after this. We’ll have to turn you out.”
“That is a shame.”
“Why?”
“Because if you turn your back on me, you’ll never know where your mother’s people are.”
“What?” Rachel was incensed at what Mrs Chelly had done and her apparent unrepentance. Now, she was going to lie about Rachel’s mother. She wanted to argue but was having a hard time concentrating, and her tongue was thick and starting to numb.
