The year was 1844. Marguerite sailed from France to New York and was on her way to Louisiana to visit her father’s family. Her flawless, exceptional beauty commanded attention and her inner loveliness were magnetic. Marguerite was tall, elegant and intelligent. She was also well educated for she attended the finest schools in Europe.
With the achievement of each academic level, Marguerite’s doting father treated her to a holiday. This year, that holiday was to visit the Americas and her cousins in New Orleans. She had heard so much about the French Quarters and - like her great-grandfather - she too wanted to explore the world. Her chaperone, Julia, had been her caregiver from the day she was born and the only mother Marguerite had known. She loved Julia but hated that she could not travel alone. Marguerite, a 19-year-old woman-child, readily exhibited a free spirit that yearned for adventure.
Julia was a tall, strong woman who knew Marguerite’s father’s rules and followed them closely. If any were broken, her discipline would be worse than Marguerite’s father’s. However, wanting to steer Julia away from any form of wrath, Marguerite became skillful in bending the rules, finding loopholes in her father’s instructions.
Secretly, her father was amused by his daughter’s propensity toward winning. Perhaps she would even win the fight for forever. He prayed for this particular victory each and every day.
As Marguerite rode in the coach, she noticed everything: the houses, the people, the country and well, the men. She loved to fantasize about men; she was still a virgin and could not wait to marry the man of her dreams. She had to remember, however, that she was of mixed heritage. Her mother was of African and French descent, as well as her grandmother. She appeared to be fully European but a hint of the African blood sometimes seeped through.
Marguerite’s father was a wealthy man who surrounded his only child with riches and love. Additionally, he did not want anyone else raising her, so he never remarried. Relying on Julia to care for his daughter’s female needs was sufficient. His parental duties encompassed the basic necessities, as well as telling her the story of her mother, which had to occur before Marguerite was of age to marry. However, Marguerite had a thirst for learning; she wanted to study medicine and become a pharmacist.
Observing the gamut of his daughter’s potential, he agreed to a formal education in the medical field. Indeed, education would occupy her time and energy for many a year. Society believed, however, that women did not bear the necessary intelligence to become medical doctors. Marguerite knew differently but as a pharmacist, she was still able to help people, which was her passion.
Marguerite also studied medicine to impress her father. She was an excellent student and her father was definitely impressed. Protecting the full achievement of her educational goals, Marguerite’s father told her not to try to find love but be a proper lady and have fun. Frankly, he did not want her to fall in love… he did not want to lose her.
When Marguerite and Julia arrived in New York, they were to stay at a local inn. Her father heard the establishment was a fine place with the luxuries to which she was accustomed. As Marguerite stepped off the runner of the coach, her dress caught on the edge of the top step. She started to fall headfirst when a passerby saved her from a nasty spill. The gentleman kept his massive hands around Marguerite’s small waist as he lowered her safely to the ground.
“Oh, my,” she said in perfect English accompanied by her strong French accent.
“You must be careful, me lady,” her rescuer replied with an even stronger accent, though his was Scottish.
The gentleman stared directly into the softness of her deep, brown eyes and momentarily surrendered his heart to this breathtaking beauty. In turn, his gray eyes pierced her to the very core of her being. She had never seen such a beautiful man… and her waist still tingled from the warmth of his gentle touch.
“Tell me kind sir,” said Marguerite finally finding her voice, “do you catch strangers often?”
They both laughed with abandonment. He then bowed before her, tipped his hat and bid Marguerite farewell. She watched every movement of his body as he entered the inn, the same inn where she and Julia would spend the night. Marguerite grabbed Julia’s arm and squeezed it with excitement.
“I think I will like it here!” she exclaimed.
Julia smiled and shook her head to say no.
“Now, Julia… I was just looking,” she responded sheepishly.
Julia knew, however, that the gleam in Marguerite’s eyes was one of pure exhilaration. She had seen the same emotion in Marguerite’s mother’s eyes when she fell in love. Yes, Julia knew that gleam all too well and already sensed the outcome.
While checking in, Marguerite and Julia discussed freshening up and then exploring the city. However, out of concern, the innkeeper interjected and pointed out the improperness of women walking alone at dusk. Thus she volunteered to provide an escort. New York was quite different from cities in their genteel country. They had only been in the city a few hours and their plans were to stay for a night. In the early morning, the journey would continue. Marguerite looked to Julia to either accept or decline the offer.
“Let’s make the visit pleasantly memorable,” Julia thought.
Surrendering her reluctance, Julia embraced the innkeeper’s advice. The wisdom of her choice would soon unfold. She was sure the innkeeper would respectfully have an escort well versed in French as well as the attractions of the city itself. She also assumed that the escort would be an older man, one who would understand that Marguerite was a child in a woman’s body with no intent presumed.
As the two ladies were shown to their room, Marguerite listened as Julia complained of their month-long journey by water from France. Julia was happy to have her feet on solid ground and had chastised Marguerite for choosing such a place for a holiday.
“Why couldn’t we have gone to Italy or England?” she asked. Why here? I do not like traveling by sea. It’s so… Marguerite, are you listening?”
Upon entering their room, Marguerite walked to the window, looked out and said, “Please, mon cherie, stop complaining. You will like it here as I do. Give it a chance. Oui?”
Meanwhile, the innkeeper sent her eldest son to speak with one of the inn’s more frequent and better-known visitors.
“Edward,” she said, “Ask Mr. Burnett if he has dinner plans. If he says no, ask him if he would mind escorting two beautiful ladies to dinner this evening.”
For some reason, she knew deep within that this matter was important. The boy ran off and moments later, returned with the biggest of grins.
“Mr. Burnett said to do so would be his utmost pleasure and he would available at 4:30.”
The innkeeper took a keen interest in delivering the information to Julia herself. In truth, she was intrigued to see such a tall woman. When she arrived with the news, Julia was most pleased that a proper escort was attainable at such short notice and enquired as to whom the person might be.
“Mr. Burnett will be your escort tonight,” said the innkeeper. “He will meet you and your daughter in the lobby at 4:30 for dinner and then a walk about the city.”
Julia corrected her and uncharacteristically snapped, “Ms. Marguerite is not my daughter. I am her guardian and who is this Mr. Burnett?”
A bit taken aback, the innkeeper quickly explained that Mr. Burnett was a frequent visitor from Scotland and that he was quite familiar with New York’s finest attractions.
A woman keen to observe her surroundings, the innkeeper revealed to Julia that Mr. Burnett was the man who caught young Marguerite earlier that afternoon. Julia smiled slightly and obliged the invite but decided not to reveal to Marguerite the identity of their escort.
After Marguerite had rested awhile, Julia helped her dress and prepare for dinner. Marguerite noticed, however, that Julia was not preparing herself to leave their room.
“Julia, aren’t you going with me?” she asked.
“No, Marguerite. We have had a long journey and I am an old lady who needs to rest her weary body. Please! Go and enjoy your dinner… and your escort. Though understand, mon cherie, I will expect you to return at a decent hour,” she softly instructed.
Julia was tired and found it extremely necessary to stay behind. The journey had been long and she could hardly bear how weary her body felt. Truth be told, she felt unusually tired and thought she might be ill. Marguerite agreed to her request for rest after witnessing an unfamiliar lethargic state displayed by her caretaker. She left reluctantly to go the lobby to meet Mr. Burnett as Julia remained behind.
“I’ll check on you when I return, Julia,” Marguerite said. “Please feel better.”
Julia nodded and waved. Marguerite thought Julia looked pale but attributed that fact to the long journey. As she waited in the lobby, she imagined an old man escorting her to dinner. She was not too thrilled about that possibility but was happy to be out and free for the time being. At exactly 4:30, in walked her hero.
“Me lady, you’re alone,” he said with a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“Well, I have to eat with an old man named Mr. Burnett,” she replied.
He laughed aloud and then replied, “That’s funny, I don’t feel old.”
She laughed with him and suddenly stopped.
“Oh, no, we can’t go,” Marguerite said firmly. “It’s not proper and if my father found out, he… he would never allow such a thing. Mr. Burnett, I am sorry for your troubles,” she added turning to leave but he stopped her by reaching for her gloved hand.
“Where is your companion?” he asked. “It doesn’t matter. We are having a meal and nothing more. Please join me.”
With feigned reluctance, Marguerite agreed. Strolling to dinner, they linked arms as if they had known each other forever. A few times, Mr. Burnett even pulled her closer to him as if he was acting as a protector. The feeling was good to her. No, it was great! Thomas Burnett was a most handsome, strong man and he made her feel like a woman.
“I don’t want to eat, just walk… walk as long as he holds me like this,” she thought.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Marguerite almost forgot who she was and who he was not. She was stunned when he told the waitress that she was his future wife. She blushed, grinned to his amazement and then fully agreed. Moreover, their dinner conversation was entertaining. He spoke of his fascinating adventures across the world. Marguerite was so intrigued that she forgot to eat, although she was hungry as could be. As she listened in rapt fascination, she could not resist the desire to help herself to his hand.
After dinner, they decided to walk a bit further and talked even more. Marguerite had never spoken so much English and loved the experience. She especially loved Thomas’ accent. He was everything she dreamt of in a perfect man but what would come out of a mere dream? And then reality crept in, making Marguerite aware of the lateness of the hour. She needed to return to her room and Julia. As if Thomas heard her thoughts, he intuitively redirected their steps toward the inn. It was a pleasant night and the moon seemed to hang over their heads like an ornament.
“Mr. Burnett, are you always alone on your travels?” Marguerite asked.
“Hopefully, not for long,” he said. “And please call me Thomas.”
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and gazed upon her with a puzzled look.
“We have been walking and talking for hours,” he noted. “What is your name, me lady?”
“It is Marguerite,” she replied shyly.
“What brings you here to New York?”
“I am here on holiday” Marguerite responded. “I am on my way to New Orleans to visit family.”
He held her a little closer and asked when she was leaving.
“In the morning, I believe.”
“Could you possibly extend your stay one day?” he asked hopefully.
As much as she wanted to accommodate his request, she could not. Marguerite knew that by then her relatives would be expecting her. Her look spoke volumes.
“I understand, say no more, me lady,” he said.
As they continued their walk, Marguerite became increasingly sad. In her heart, she wanted to kiss Thomas but such a gesture would be totally inappropriate. However, if he tried, she would not stop him. Suddenly, she stumbled and he caught her by the waist once again. Then the budding young couple nearly fell and laughed hysterically.
“Thomas, I have never felt like this before,” Marguerite said. “You are an absolutely wonderful man. I wish I had more time with you but that is not possi… ”
He abruptly stopped her by brushing a finger across her supple lips.
Will you marry me?” Thomas asked causing Marguerite to gasp with surprise.
“Are you insane, Thomas? I mean, Mr. Burnett!” She exclaimed. I’ve only known you for a few hours.”
Indeed, she was startled but excitement was etched upon her face as well, which gave Thomas the courage to ask again.
“Well?”
He then leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. She shuttered with the pleasurable sensation. However, once again reality struck.
“I want to… but I can’t,” she stammered amid a flood of tears. “We must first ask my father and he is in France. But I know him. He would never let me marry so young.”
“Well, I guess I will have to travel with you to ask him,” Thomas concluded.
Marguerite felt overwhelmed by his bold confidence and closed her eyes with joy. Thomas used that moment wisely. He leaned toward her, removed her bonnet and kissed her with a passion that was previously unknown to him. He was experienced as a man but had never experienced this woman. The unbridled passion caused Marguerite to melt in his arms. In fact, she felt flustered and fainted.
As Thomas set her down gently on the ground, he thought about how crazy he must look. He did not know this young lady - all he knew was that he wanted her, all of her. She was the woman for whom his heart had yearned and her being was full of light. Thomas needed a bright light in his life. His father had died nearly ten years earlier, and he and his brothers were forced to carry on his father’s shipping business. From that day forward, more times than not, he was dedicated to the family business.
As Marguerite slowly regained her senses, she asked Thomas of his plans with her. He was very sure of himself.
"I want to marry you and take you back home to your father as my wife,” he said.
She questioned him as to why he wanted to marry her. He simply shared that he had never been so happy with anyone and from the first moment he caught her, he knew that she would be his wife. A look came into Marguerite’s eyes that made Thomas pause. She needed to say something and he waited for her to speak.
“You must know that I am of French and African blood,” she stated bracing herself for rejection.
Marguerite told Thomas that she was not what the Americans called ‘white.’ In response, he rubbed her cheek and replied that neither was he. She did not think he fully understood that she had colored blood in her. However, before she could say more, he kissed her passionately again.
“I understand that our children will be uniquely beautiful, like their mother,” he said obviously understanding the situation.
This time, she kissed him back with her full soul and spirit. When they arrived at the inn, the hour was nearing 10 o’clock, which boarded on indecency. Marguerite was sore afraid that Julia would be angry and chose to return to the room alone. When she arrived, Julia sat on the chaise but did not speak. She just stared blankly into space. Marguerite decided to break the silence by describing the outing with her charming escort.
“Julia, we had a nice meal and we talked for hours. Thomas, I mean Mr. Burnett… ”
Marguerite rambled on hoping that Julia was more interested in their conversation than the late hour. She continued with her nervous chatter as she undressed. Julia usually helped her put on her nightgown and brush her long, black curly hair but tonight was different. All that time, Julia never moved nor spoke.
“Julia, let’s go to bed,” Marguerite said awaiting a reply. “It’s very late and we have an early coach.”
Julia still did not move or reply.
“Julia!” Marguerite yelled angrily as she turned from the vanity to see why she was not responding. When she approached the chaise, she let out a terrified scream.
“Julia! Julia!”
But she still stared forward and said nothing.
“Julia, mon cherie, please talk to me.”
Marguerite ran out of her room hollering for help. The innkeeper came first and then Thomas - shirtless.
“Julia! Oh God, something is wrong… something is wrong with my Julia!” she both screamed and sobbed.
As the innkeeper and Thomas entered the room, they both knew Julia had died. Thomas slowly approached the woman’s lifeless body and closed her eyes with one hand. The innkeeper and her son laid Julia down completely and covered her with a sheet.
Exhausted from her initial reaction, Marguerite sat on the floor at the base of the chaise and cried quietly. Thomas came over and sat down beside her.
“What am I to do now?” she asked as Thomas moved closer to hug her.
She explained that Julia was the only mother she had ever known and that her mother died shortly after giving birth to her. She also spoke of a family curse. Thomas listened and tried his best to comfort her.
Marguerite knew she could not travel alone and needed an escort. He then grabbed her by her shoulders and again asked her to marry him.
“If we travel together as man and wife,” he said, “you will be safe.
“Yes,” she quickly replied.
The next morning before the coach arrived, Thomas made arrangements for Julia’s body to be returned to France on his vessel. He had sent Edward to the port with word to the captain. The captain returned with Edward and was instructed regarding Julia. Upon completing the journey, he was told to sail back to the Port of Charleston with his brother.
“Keep her body on ice,” he said.
That was all Marguerite heard and it caused her tears to gather once more. Desiring to calm her, Thomas also held the captain responsible for the delivery of a note written to Marguerite’s father that would inform him of his intentions to marry her before arriving in New Orleans. Thomas knew her father would be angry but he also knew his imminent marriage was worth a father’s wrath. Marguerite sealed the letter with the family seal and headed toward the coach. Thomas called for her just before she stepped inside.
“Marguerite, this minister has agreed to marry us and give us papers. Is your answer still yes?”
She nodded sadly but with tainted excitement. Within minutes, she was Mrs. Thomas Andrew Burnett. As they kissed for the first time as husband and wife, Thomas grabbed Marguerite’s slender waist and pulled her as close as he possibly could. Her entire body tingled with an intense sensation. She had never felt this before and had to fan her face to cool her ever-increasing temperature.
Thomas noticed her reaction and asked if the display of affection was too much for her. Marguerite was a virgin and had not been alone with a man before other than her father when they exchanged welcoming and exiting kisses.
The coachman called to them and said they must leave immediately to meet the next coach. Quickly, they boarded smiling and laughing with delight as they began their journey together as husband and wife.
While riding next to each other, Marguerite laid her head on the side of the coach with her traveling pillow. As they traveled, she dreamt about her life with Julia. Marguerite smiled as she thought about her funny faces and silly stories. She wanted her baby to carry on Julia’s name, giving honor to the only mother she knew.
Hours upon hours, their journey continued. Nearly each second of those hours, Thomas envisioned the moment he would see his new bride completely. Thus far, they’d been in the coach alone and he decided to use the opportunity to acquaint himself with his young wife on another level. With a goal in mind, he laid his head on her well-covered lap. He knew layers of clothes impeded his ability to touch the softness of her hidden, triangular treasure. Consequently, with a fluid-like slowness, his hand caressed her clothed body from her ankle to her thigh. At her thigh, he stopped and raised his head to look at her face. To his surprise, her eyes were wide open and her beautiful lips were smiling. He returned the smiled and let his hand wander up her petticoat…
Marguerite squirmed with naked excitement but her clothes covered her body like protective armor - all but her chest. Before he knew what had happened, she unstrung her dress top and her breasts were at his beck and call.
Thomas could hardly contain himself. They were beautiful breasts and he was very proud of them. He softly laughed and told her to cover herself before the coachman witnessed her loveliness and had a fit. They laughed as he assisted her in re-bounding her frock.
As they rode along, Marguerite spoke of the story her father told regarding her mother and maternal grandmother. Thomas listened intently. The story was interesting and intriguing to him; the same reaction her father had when the tale first came to his ears. Thomas’ heart was completely wrapped around Marguerite. All he could think of was how beautiful she looked as she spoke of her genealogy and the curse.
When she neared the end of her story, Thomas asked her about her beliefs and dreams. Normally, a woman did not discuss such matters of the heart. Society dictated that women were not supposed to have goals and her only belief was to believe in her husband’s God. However, Thomas knew Marguerite was special and that she was uniquely made for him. Indeed, she was God’s gift and he wanted to know all of her.
With Thomas, Marguerite freely shared the gamut of her emotions and inner thoughts. She told him about attending university in France and that she studied medicine. Marguerite said she now felt lost without Julia and a certain zest had been taken away. However, she added that a different type of energy consumed her when she became his wife. She hoped that he would understand her predicament of grieving the loss of a loved one, while beginning a life of loving him.
She went into depth about Julia’s role in her family saying she was more than a chaperone. Julia had lived a long life and raised Marguerite’s mother until the day of her birth. Days later, Marguerite’s mother died mysteriously and Julia took on the role of surrogate parent. Undeniably, Julia was a pillar in both women’s lives and knew them well. Thomas was prepared to ask a question about the women, when Marguerite continued.
“My mother, my grandmother and great-grandmother died days after giving birth; our fathers raised us with the help of a nanny. Julia and my father raised me, and she was the only mother I had ever known.”
They had been riding for hours when the coach suddenly stopped. Two men aggressively approached and inspected the coach for runaway slaves. Marguerite was confused because these men were unclean and looked of lower class but exuded much authority. She also saw that they had weapons.
“What will you do with these people once they are caught, sirs?” Marguerite asked boldly.
“Mind you, ma’am, that will be up to their owner,” one of the men replied with venom coating his words.
His tone came quite close to scaring Marguerite out of her mind and she gripped Thomas’ hand like a vice. Thomas smiled as he looked at the men but his eyes reflected otherwise as he bid the pair farewell. After their departure, he took note of how Marguerite was clearly terrified of the notion of slavery and the character or lack thereof, of these men.
She had just shared that her great-grandmother was a princess and how she met her great-grandfather when he visited Africa’s lands but her lineage was far removed from such barbarism. As Thomas held her, Marguerite pondered over the times she had heard how Negros were treated as chattel and that practice struck her as cruel. After a few moments passed, she finally spoke and asked where they would sleep that night; this thought was even scarier.
She knew that now she belonged to him - every inch of her body - and as sweet and handsome as Thomas was, she knew he would want his way with her. Thus Marguerite did not press her new husband for an answer.
Thomas was relieved because he was still mulling over what had just transpired - and what could have happened. After speaking with the coach driver during a brief rest period, Thomas convinced him to drive hard and steady until reaching Alexandria, Virginia where they would begin another leg of their excursion.
Hence, Marguerite and Thomas traveled with intensity for two days. Sometimes the temperature reached such high degrees during the day that they had to stop frequently to rest and water the horses. Moreover, such heat demanded that they eat only lightly along the way.
Marguerite had never traveled for such a long distance in a coach and found the ride extremely unbearable. She asked Thomas several times if he would agree to her changing into a night gown and robe, especially that day. She noted that darkness was approaching and was just the cloak needed to shed her attire, since she could not take the heat any longer.
As much as he loved the notion, Thomas knew that doing so could become much too embarrassing - and dangerous - should another search party approach their coach. He had heard of them seeking out escaped and freed Negros to sell back into slavery and feared that if she were not dressed like a proper lady, her color could come into question. As well, the sun had added a slightly darker hue to her skin.
“No,” he responded firmly. “To do so would be unwise, my love.”
For the first time, Marguerite displayed just how spoiled she had become.
“Thomas, it’s extremely hot. I want to cool off and I want to… ”
Marguerite continued for several minutes before Thomas threatened to make her walk to Virginia. Then they both laughed at the comment.
“I wonder, Thomas, do you think Julia is traveling well?”
He laughed hysterically at his wife’s out of place query.
“She is definitely more comfortable and cooler,” he replied.
They laughed again until Marguerite began to weep.
“I miss her so very much, Thomas. She would make me laugh so much by telling me the silliest stories. Sometimes, I didn’t know if they were fact or fiction.”
The tears that fell from her eyes as she spoke made his wife even more beautiful to him.
That night, two more search parties stopped their coach. Both times, the experience was just as unsettling as the first. At daybreak, they began traveling again but were too tired to enjoy the beautiful countryside. The surprise searches had left them on edge and resulted in a sleepless night. In fact, they slept nearly till noon and arose from sleep when the time arrived to change coaches to continue their journey.
“Tonight we will stay in Virginia,” Thomas said noting that he had an acquaintance that owned an inn in Alexandria, a port just over the Potomac River.
Marguerite was excited to see Virginia. To reach it, they had to travel by boat. She loved the water and was always intrigued by how water looked so calm, yet deadliness could lurk beneath its surface. She remembered when she was a child, how her father would never let her near the water. He told her that women did not swim.
Not only that, how could they swim? A proper lady never exposed her body in public. She heard this often. Her father even had a stern talk with her just before she left France. He knew of her indecent habit of pushing her sleeves over her elbows. Although she knew the action was wrong, the comfort was nearly worth any scrutiny.
Finally reaching their transfer point to a boat, Thomas gently grabbed his wife’s hand as she exited the latest coach. Marguerite was so excited; she spoke in French for the first time in Thomas’ presence and he had to remind her that he spoke no French.
“Now that you are my wife, will you teach me your language?” he asked admiringly. “I would like to speak to your father in French; I think that might impress him.”
Marguerite nodded with a giggle in agreement.
As they approached the vessel, the ship’s captain reached forward to assist Marguerite on board but then lowered his eyes with disdain apparent and immediately snatched back his hand.
“Is she a nigger?” he asked startling Thomas.
“NO!” he snapped back. “My wife is from France and she has been slightly darkened by the sun, sir.”
Marguerite did not understand the word ‘nigger.’
“Is there a problem, sir? She asked softly with her strong accent. “I have traveled from France to visit family in New Orleans. I am from the Paladin family of France. We are noble people and have traveled to many places throughout the world. However, sir, I have never been so insulted to have a man reject my hand.”
Thomas stared at the man as he stumbled over his words.
“Please, uh, uh, forgive me fair lady, the nig… the light, nearly white blacks try to mix in here, and that just ain’t right and won’t happen on my fine vessel. Please, I beg your pardon.”
Marguerite nodded and allowed his assistance.
The captain continued to accept travelers onto his vessel as his crew loaded cargo - human cargo. Marguerite did not understand what her eyes were witnessing. Were these people criminals? What had they done so wrong that they needed to be shackled like animals? She saw light and dark complexioned people in this state; some were even Indians.
“Thomas, why are these people shackled?” she asked.
“I will explain later, my love,” he replied. “Now is not the time or place. Our company is neither as friendly nor as genteel as they appear.”
While crossing the Potomac, Marguerite admired the view of the river. She daydreamed about her father, Julia and her new husband.
Then she turned to Thomas, who was comfortably resting and grabbed his hand. She smiled at the thought of being with him, yet cried inside over the loss of Julia. Her father once told her to never mourn the dead but to be happy that they were in heaven. Just as she turned to continue admiring the view, a commotion broke out.
“Control that boy… get that boy… and whip him!”
Marguerite grabbed her chest with fear at each crack of the whip and Thomas tried to shield her from what was transpiring. She was a mere child in many ways but also a woman to him… not only his woman but also his wife. As calm was restored, Marguerite’s tears began to flow. She had never seen such brutality. Thomas noticed her face and buried it into his chest.
“Be strong, my love,” he whispered. “You cannot appear to care for the dark people. We do not want to further spark anyone’s curiosity.”
She understood completely.
When they approached the shores of Alexandria, Virginia, Marguerite could hardly contain her excitement and couldn’t wait to walk on new soil. Thomas went before her and put his arms around his wife’s waist to lift her over the shallow water. She grabbed his neck as he swung her over the water and kissed him passionately. Thomas was thrilled by the surprise kiss. Up to that point, he only imagined being with his new wife. However, he was now excited by the thought of soon being alone with her in a beautiful setting.
The captain gave them directions to the inn where they would stay and suggested that they follow Duke Street up to the Towne of Alexandria. Thomas obliged. As they walked and enjoyed each other’s company, neither could ignore their surroundings. There were merchants on both sides of the road. Marguerite began to feel ill at the thought of their mostly human commodity: women, men, children, livestock and other goods.
“Why people?” she wondered.
Furthermore in the open air, Negroes and Indians were being stripped naked by the whites. The scene was so shocking to the senses that to ignore the occurrence was impossible. Thomas grabbed Marguerite’s hand and quickly tried to shuffle her through the crowd. The further they walked, the more horror they saw.
As they approached the First Baptist Church, the minister was praying over a group of naked Negroes. He called them slaves and asked God to forgive them of their sins.
“Strange concept,” Marguerite thought.
She analyzed how these people had been stripped naked and then prayed over. Additionally, God was asked to forgive them for being who He made them to be.
“I am no man’s slave!” one man yelled. “My name is John Adams and I was kidnapped in New York. I am a free man, born free… ”
A white man struck the held freeman across the head to silence him. Marguerite battled to suppress the desire to grab each and every captive and run but she knew such a deed would mean certain harm to her and Thomas.
By then Thomas had had enough. He told Marguerite to close her eyes and sing her favorite song while he tried to find The Tucker Inn. She attempted to oblige his wishes but all her senses stood alert to her surroundings. At long last, he saw a sign that read ‘Franklin and Armfield Office.’ As he and Marguerite neared the place, they saw what appeared to be cattle pens but upon closer examination, they could see that the pens contained human beings.
“Excuse me, sir,” Thomas said to the office proprietor. “Please excuse me. Where is the Tucker Inn? My wife and I have lost our way.”
“Turn back toward the river and at the church, head right. There is a sign in front of the tavern. Sir… could I interest you in a girl to help your wife freshen up? Slave girls are perfect companions for young wives and (he whispered.) husbands too.”
Thomas quickly rejected the notion. Marguerite’s face spoke a thousand words without her mouth even opening. She grabbed Thomas’ arm and almost ran from the establishment.
Thomas had never been south of Pennsylvania on land and when he visited his brother’s home, he mainly traveled by water or through the countryside. He was a little taken aback by the disturbing events and continuously apologized to Marguerite for taking this path. This particular route may have saved time but the impressions left on both of their hearts could never be forgotten.
When they arrived at the inn, Thomas was exhausted from all the afternoon activities. The hour was nearly 5 p.m. and the inn was serving supper to its guests. He asked the innkeeper if John Tucker was available. He gave his name and told her that he’d met Mr. Tucker in Scotland, and the man had promised him a clean room and food if he happened upon Virginia.
“John never mentioned you and a free room is a rarity,” the innkeeper replied bluntly. “Nonetheless, we’ll discuss that matter with Mr. Tucker when he returns from Spotsylvania.”
Supper was nearly over, so the innkeeper suggested that they eat in their room. Thomas took the opportunity to inform the innkeeper that he and Marguerite were newlyweds and they did not want any interruptions after their meal. The innkeeper, a woman of middle age, blushed with joy.
“Oh, may God bless your union,” she exclaimed. “I will personally deliver your dinner. Please make yourselves at home. Mrs. Burnett, would you like a bath drawn for you?”
“Yes!” Marguerite quickly responded with obvious gratitude.
She had not had a full bath since departing France and desperately wanted to wash her hair and…
“Make it for two,” Thomas interjected with a broad smile, causing Marguerite to turn away shyly.
“I’ll have the darkies draw a bath for you while you eat your supper,” the innkeeper said with pride.
Since they were staying in Alexandria for two days until the next coach arrived, Marguerite and Thomas planned to spend the entire time in their room. About an hour later, near the finish of their evening meal, the innkeeper came upstairs with a parade of slaves, each carrying two pails of hot water. As they filled the tub, a young girl glanced up at Marguerite, and asked if she could help her undress and pull her hair up to prepare for her bath.
“That will be my goal tonight,” Thomas said with a twinkle in his eye.
The young girl blushed alongside Marguerite. She told the girl to return in the morning to help her dress.
“She will be outside your door all night if you need her,” the innkeeper said. “Magdalene, you useless girl, sit outside that door and don’t you move.”
The girl dropped her head, nodded in agreement and retreated out the door to the corridor. After the bath was filled and the room emptied, Thomas and Marguerite were alone once again. Thomas couldn’t take his eyes of his wife. She, on the other hand, had no idea what she was supposed to do or say. Thomas knew what he desired and skillfully led Marguerite down the same path of wanting. He approached her slowly, reached for her hand and guided her to the bench near the basin. Then he sat Marguerite down slowly.
“Don’t be afraid, my love,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt you.”
He bent down to remove Marguerite’s shoes and began to rub her feet. She had beautiful feet and he noticed that her toes were pretty. For her part, Marguerite enjoyed every moment and lost herself to Thomas’ touch. Then a knock was heard at the door. Although Thomas rose to answer it he felt most frustrated.
“This better be important,” he said opening the door.
“Do you and your wife have papers?” the innkeeper asked.
Thomas quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out the papers he had received when they were married.
“Do you check the papers of all your guests, madam?” Thomas asked clearly agitated.
“No, sir, but your wife appears to be rather young,” the innkeeper replied.
Out of thin air, a book flew past Thomas and landed on the chest of the innkeeper. Marguerite had thrown her traveling papers across the room.
“Page two. The day of my birth is 28 July, 1826,” she hollered angrily.
“With that, madam, I think we are done,” Thomas said sternly. “My bride, who is of age and I are on our honeymoon. May we now continue?”
To Marguerite’s surprise, the man who had accompanied the innkeeper finally extended his hand to Thomas. Then the two men laughed and hugged.
“Thomas, how the hell are you?” the man asked. “You took me up on my offer, I see. You know, I never pegged you to be the marrying kind but you have done well. She is a beautiful, exceptional girl… and I see you have met my wonderful wife, Annie.”
Thomas smiled with the pride of a rich man.
“Yes she is, sir and… (Thomas whispered.) I need to fully make Marguerite my wife,” he said with a wink. “We have yet to consummate our marriage.”
“Ohhhh, I see,” John said with a grin and then turned to his wife. “Let’s leave them alone, my dear. See you tomorrow, Thomas.”
“John, not if I can help it,” Thomas replied gleefully and the two men shared another hearty laugh.
Mrs. Tucker once again ordered the girl to stay at the door to provide whatever the couple requested.
“What about my dinner?” the girl interrupted.
John Tucker winked and told her to mind her manners.
When Thomas closed the door, Marguerite had already removed her dress. She looked playfully at him and asked what was next.
“We sleep,” he replied returning her frivolity.
“Sleep!” she shrieked.
Marguerite sensually sauntered over to the bed and sat down, waiting for her husband to follow. Thomas walked slowly to her while unbuttoning his shirt. His young bride was afraid to look at him but when she did…
“Oh, my! Your chest is beautiful,” she exclaimed.
Surely, she spoke the truth. Thomas’ chest was quite muscular and wonderful to look upon.
“I have to touch him,” Marguerite thought.
As Thomas sat on the bed beside her, Marguerite felt chills. She had never sat on a bed with any man and was terrified about what would come next. Thomas sensed her fear and leaned to her, kissing the back of her neck softly. She closed her eyes and enjoyed every soft, undemanding caress of his lips. She slowly lay completely back. Thomas knew Marguerite was enjoying herself and began to run his fingers through her hair. As their lips met, she felt limp. The young bride was enjoying every moment of becoming a woman.
They kissed passionately for several moments and Thomas let his hands wander down to her covered breasts. Marguerite had only removed her dress, not her undergarments. Feeling her mounds of flesh through the fabric that now swelled with desire, he thought of how she suited him well - perfect in every way. He loved how she felt in his arms and let her know by his deep breathing. Marguerite was unashamed as she begged Thomas to uncover her breasts. She wanted to feel him in all ways. The young bride wanted her husband to take her - all of her. As requested, Thomas uncovered her breasts and started to kiss them. As his kisses grew more passionate, he looked up at her face and saw tears streaming down.
“Why are you crying, my love?”
Her voice quivering, she replied, “I miss my father and Julia. Do you think my father would approve of this? Would you have approved if you were my father?”
He put two fingers over her lips and began to again kiss her. As he felt her warmth, she squirmed with delight, thereby forgetting her concerns. Within minutes, Thomas had her completely naked and admired her beautiful body. Marguerite was a goddess; he had never seen such a beautiful body. He knew he had married the perfect woman.
Thomas stood and walked away to admire her from across the room. After a short while, when he could not stand the distance separating their passion, he walked slowly toward her. At last reaching Marguerite, he moved her hair behind her shoulders. The curly tresses reached all the way to her waist and were gorgeous. She was flawless. He then led her from the bed and picked her up.
Marguerite thought perhaps he was taking her to the chaise. Instead, he carried her to the tub and gently laid her body in the soothing water. When it touched her skin, it felt so good; she sunk down into the tub and immersed her entire body. The sensation was refreshing.
While she got comfortable in the water, Thomas removed his clothes and sat next to the tub as he rubbed her wet body with his hands. However, Marguerite grabbed his hand as he got close to her private area. She was not sure what to expect and feared touching this area may hurt or even feel too fantastic. She closed her eyes, released his hand and let him have his way.
Thomas knew Marguerite was a virgin and wanted her to enjoy every second of their first experience. Throughout the night, he took his time with her until he knew she was fully ready to express their love as God designed. The next morning, as they awakened in each other’s arms, Marguerite was pleased with her new husband and could not help smiling as she recalled the night’s events. She had never felt so full of love. Thomas was amazing and she could not wait for more.
Yet she was compelled to wait because during the night, a note was slid under their door. It said that their coach would arrive a day early and carry them to Southern Virginia a little before dusk. This change in travel plans was all Mrs. Tucker’s handiwork. The innkeeper did not feel comfortable with Marguerite in her establishment.
She knew the young woman was somehow different and thought that no good would come from her being there. Hence, Mrs. Tucker offered extra money to a coachman on layover who accepted the task. She paid him handsomely to drive the couple to their next destination on such short notice. Thomas considered refusing but saw the opportunity to get a head start in case they encountered bad weather.
He and Marguerite quickly packed. As they were exiting the room, the young girl was still sitting outside of their door. Marguerite felt bad for her and asked Thomas if she could join them. The girl almost passed for a white child. She really had no black features and was extremely well spoken. Marguerite could not allow herself to leave the child behind.
She remembered what the man had said at the Franklin and Armfield Office. Would the child become someone’s concubine or house slave? The young girl would fit right in once returning to France. She imagined teaching her French before their arrival and asked her name.
“Magdalene, miss,” she replied hanging her head.
“Perfect! She has a French name,” Marguerite thought.
Thomas could see his wife’s mind envisioning the future but gently tugged on her arm. The gesture broke her train of thought and allowed him the chance to remind Marguerite of the time. At the front desk, Thomas greeted the Tuckers but he directly approached Mrs. Tucker about Magdalene. She initially refused the inquiry but suddenly her demeanor changed as Marguerite spoke of how pretty the child appeared. Mention of her beauty was a dreadful reminder of how the child was conceived.
“Your husband likes the girl,” Marguerite noted coyly. “She is very lovely. Don’t you agree?”
“Take her,” Mr. Tucker replied quickly. “She can’t clean, can’t cook – she’s pretty much useless. No one wants a beautiful slave.”
Mrs. Tucker then threw the spoon in her hand at her husband.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Your father and uncle would never approve.”
“Mrs. Tucker, mind your manners!” her husband yelled back. “I am still the man of this house and you will silence yourself concerning this matter!”
She shrank away looking back with an angry face, yet on the inside, she was glad there was a chance that the girl might leave their home. Women did not like constant reminders of their men folk’s bad behavior. Marguerite had nearly figured out the situation when the child looked up at her and mirrored the facial features of Mr. Tucker. Indeed, her train of thought was on the right track. She noticed Mrs. Tucker could barely look at the child and was irritated by the extra attention men folk paid to her. Moreover, she could not stand the excellent care the girl received.
“Would Thomas ever cross the line?” Marguerite wondered.
As Thomas, Marguerite and Magdalene boarded the coach, Mr. Tucker approached and pulled Thomas to the side.
“Thomas, a brief word with you please. That child is my cousin - my first cousin. She is the daughter of my uncle and was raised as my sister. I wish you and your wife would take her and care for her until she marries. Her mother was mulatto. I thought she was a white woman until my uncle explained their relationship just before she was sent - not sold - to another plantation. Their baby, little Magdalene, however, remained. In the interim, my uncle’s wife that was with child died after delivery but the baby lived.”
He added that Magdalene was as healthy and beautiful as his other daughters.
“Also, she is not a slave and has no papers. She has been as free as a bird all of her life. She can read and write just as well as any white woman. And Thomas, she has never been touched by any man. Now, I took the liberty of having some clothes and books put on the coach for her. Magdalene cleans up well. God bless you all and please write to me.”
Thomas nodded. John Tucker then turned his attention toward his first cousin.
“Magdalene, write to us when you get settled,” he said as he waved them off.
Magdalene boarded the coach without saying a word. As the coachman snapped the reins, she cried. She felt she had lost everyone she knew and feared her future would be, at most, dismal and alone. She sat across from Marguerite and Thomas for nearly an hour without as much as blinking. When they were well away from the city, Thomas had the child change clothes and explained to Marguerite what John Tucker said to him. She grinned and kissed him.
“I am your only wife!” she noted. “You have no desire for another?”
“Of course not,” Thomas replied kissing her softly on the forehead. “You are my love! You are my one and only wife. You can just tell enquirers that Magdalene is your cousin from Canada. I think we will be fine.”
Thomas then told Marguerite about his brother David in South Carolina. He was recently widowed and sought a new wife. Magdalene would be suitable, he said, as she was a young beauty with a fine upbringing. He added that David was only 19 when he married but it lasted only one year because his wife and child both died during childbirth. She was 15 and the baby was too big for her small frame.
“That’s so sad, Thomas,” Marguerite responded holding her hand over her mouth. “It reminds me of the story of my ancestors, all but the baby dying.”
She told Thomas one day soon she would show him the box left by her maternal great-grandmother that had been passed down the line. She also noted her desire to wait to have child, at least until she had a chance to explore the world with him.
As they continued their bumpy ride, Magdalene slept. The coach was fairly large and had a curtain that separated the seats. When Thomas slowly closed the privacy curtain, Marguerite had an idea why and smiled at him knowingly.
“What is so funny, my love?” he asked.
When he sat down, he ran his hand up her leg only to discover she had no under garments on. Instantly, he was excited.
“You, my love, are missing some clothes,” he whispered.
“Yes, indeed I am.”
With this knowledge, he gently led his hand between her legs. She laid her head back as he kissed her neck and within moments guided Marguerite to his lap. As she straddled him, he quickly inserted himself into what was now his. She gasped with pleasure and he covered her mouth so as not to awaken Magdalene. The road was very rough and with every rut and stone the wheels hit, she felt his manhood and enjoyed the sensation immensely. Marguerite’s breathing grew heavier and heavier. Her husband’s touch was both loving and commanding.
She did not know what was happening to her body and could not suppress the most refreshing moan of her life. Thomas grabbed her tightly and pulled her down to end their moment in unison. Marguerite could hardly breathe. They sat in this position for a long while and eventually, Marguerite fell asleep on his chest with him still inside of her.
“Marguerite, I love you,” Thomas whispered in her ear.
For the next several hours, they had moments like this repeatedly until they neared Prince William. As they approached the riverside, the coachman yelled that the boat would be leaving soon and they had to hurry. Yet another river must be crossed in order to continue their trip.
“Marguerite, we must prepare to cross the river,” Thomas urged. “You must get fully dressed. Some of these water faring men are savages. Hurry!”
As the coach came to a halt, Thomas addressed their companion, who was now fully awake but still silent.
“Magdalene, come with me,” he said.
Thomas wanted to give Marguerite a moment to prepare herself in private. In the interim, the ship’s slaves unloaded the coach as Marguerite put on her undergarments. She was intrigued knowing they were right outside the door. She had never had such feelings before and found herself a little excited knowing they could possibly see her. However, she quickly remembered that Thomas called the men savages.
As Marguerite opened the door to the coach, Thomas and Magdalene greeted her. They had stood guard as she refreshed. Thomas then extended his hand to her.
“My Queen,” he said playfully and they laughed as she tapped his head with her hand fan.
As they crossed the river, Marguerite and Thomas played like children and Magdalene watched silently.
“Instead of my cousin, you are my sister now,” Marguerite told the child. “You can have fun, mon cherie. It’s okay to laugh.”
“But aren’t I your slave?” Magdalene asked, her hazel eyes looking up curiously.
The fun stopped immediately.
“No, you are my sister!” Marguerite whispered angrily. “Never ask that again. I don’t own any slaves. You understand?”
Magdalene nodded and smiled. She tried to join the fun but knew that going south was not a good idea.
