Alden pressed his fingers against his temples. Did his father’s stomach ever churn over how he punished the men and women in his care?
Perhaps his father felt compassion years ago, but his heart had turned into stone over the years, the power consuming him. How else could someone with life pulsing through his veins kill his own son and then strike the woman he’d abused, threatening to sell her after she gave everything to him?
And all these years his mother had known.
Anger swelled within him again. Then sympathy. Compassion and rage.
Now he understood why his mother’s heart had grown as cold as his father’s, why she’d displayed no despair over what her husband had done last night. The hatred must have consumed her too.
This was why Naomi told him to leave Scott’s Grove. No matter how much he protested, he wouldn’t be able to change his father’s mind. In the end, he would be an advocate of the evil.
The carriage hit another rock, and he reached for the rail as the wheels jogged back and forth.
Why hadn’t someone told him the truth? He’d always wanted a brother, and he’d had one—a half brother who could have thrived at Harvard if given a chance.
He glanced at the boy sitting resolutely across from him, as if he knew the gravity of what they were doing, and he realized the oak-brown shade of Isaac’s skin was similar to Benjamin’s.
Could this be Victor’s son? Victor and Eliza had no children, and unfortunately it was acceptable in their society for slave owners, like his father, to sire a slave child—another boy to work in the fields or sell at an auction.
If Victor was Isaac’s father, what had happened to his mother?
He shifted on the hard seat. He may never have answers to his questions—it was all so convoluted. And he would never return to the Duvall farm to ask. Benjamin’s future might have been stolen from him, but he prayed there might be some redemption for this boy. Isaac was smart too. Courageous. If a Negro family adopted him in Canada, he could go to school, and then he could work as a freedman up north.
Isaac reached for the folded copy of theNew York Timesbeside Alden’s valise. Then he seemed to scan the top headlines.
Startled, Alden leaned forward. “You can read?”
Isaac nodded proudly. “Master Duvall hired someone to teach me so I could read him the paper before he gets out of bed.”
“I hope Victor also told you to keep your skill a secret.”
Isaac shrugged, apparently unconcerned as he continued to scan the first page. Then he turned to the second page. “Looky here,” he said, flicking the paper. “There’s an article about Solomon Northup.”
Alden had followed that case closely up at Harvard. “What does it say?”
Isaac read the first few lines. Then he groaned before summarizing. “No one’s going to be punished for kidnapping the man.”
Alden reached for the newspaper and perused the rest of the story. Isaac was right. While he—and most of his fellow law students—had hoped this case would prompt change in their legal system in regard to slavery, the justice system bowed again to the wealthy slaveholders.
Thankfully, Northup had been rescued and sent back home, but because of his skin color, he wasn’t allowed to testify against those who had kidnapped him or against the man who’d whipped him and forced him to work as a slave for twelve years.
Isaac pressed his nose against the cold glass. “Look at that.”
Alden blinked, taking in his surroundings again. Outside the brougham were giant snowflakes, sticking to the window, salting the ground. The evergreen trees in the distance looked like cones of iced cream.
It was a miserable day for Stella to get her snow.
“Where are we going?” Isaac asked.
He wanted to say they were headed toward freedom, like Solomon Northup after his years in bondage. But he feared what Isaac might say in his enthusiasm. Much better that he found out about his newfound freedom once he was safely in Canada.
“Eventually we’ll arrive in Boston.”
Isaac pumped up his chest. “I know all about Boston.”
“From the newspaper?”
The boy shook his head. “From readingThe Scarlet Letterto Master Duvall. Poor little Pearl.”
