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  MURDER IN THE MARSH

  Copyright © 2016 by Sara Whitford

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition.

  Copy edited by Marcus Trower.

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  “This place — Carteret County — this will always be home. And there’s no place else I’d rather be.” — Adam Fletcher

  Chapter One

  November 24, 1766 – Lennoxville Point

  “MAYBE SHE WON’T BE TOO much longer, Aunt Celie.”

  Adam Fletcher stood with hands folded in front of him at the base of the oak staircase and smiled at Aunt Celie. The fiftysomething-year-old slave woman was sitting in the foyer of the house in a ladder-back chair beside a trunk that was almost as big as she was.

  She gave him a single small nod and a reserved smile. “Mmm-hm.” She turned her attention back to watching the balcony on the second floor to see when her young mistress would appear again from the bedroom. Celia Martin—or Aunt Celie, as she was affectionately known—had a medium-brown complexion with few wrinkles. She was neatly dressed in a rose-colored, tailored gown, and her hair was pulled up under a matching cloth that was wrapped around her head sort of like a turban.

  Adam felt nervous waiting there with the woman who was probably the single most important person in Laney Martin’s life. Aunt Celie had been Laney’s nursemaid as a baby. She had taken care of her and been her constant companion throughout her life. Laney and Will’s mother, Alice, had died when they were children, and Celie had always been especially protective of Laney, looking out for her as if she were her own child.

  After a few awkward moments of silence, Adam leaned on the curling, polished banister and called upstairs, “Miss Laney? You need help with anything?”

  Within seconds the lovely young woman with honey-blond hair and green eyes leaned over the upstairs balcony. “I’m so sorry. I promise not to be much longer. Just trying to make sure I have everything packed.”

  “Well, if you need me, just holler and I’ll be right up,” replied Adam.

  Aunt Celie raised her eyebrows in surprise, then turned her head away, but said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her well-timed reaction said enough to make Adam feel even more nervous standing around waiting, and feeling nervous was not something to which the generally confident eighteen-year-old was accustomed.

  It suddenly dawned on him that the old woman may have misunderstood his intentions, and that made him feel embarrassed. All he meant was that he would be happy to come up and help Laney get her things packed up and brought downstairs if she required assistance.

  He should have known better than to think that Aunt Celie would be anything but wary about him going upstairs to be alone with the young lady. If Laney really did need help, Aunt Celie would be the one to give it, not him. The only reason the old woman was even sitting downstairs was because Laney had insisted Aunt Celie wait in the foyer and spend some time visiting with Adam while she was getting the last of her things together.

  Visiting with Adam? Hardly. To Adam, the old woman was quiet as a church mouse and seemed nearly impossible to draw into conversation. She wasn’t unfriendly towards him—not in the least—but she seemed determined to maintain propriety. Many would have thought it out of line for a Negro slave woman to engage in casual conversation with a free white man.

  Adam figured she must have no idea how much he would appreciate her talking to him at this time, or any of the other times he had been to Laney Martin’s estate, but he assumed she had decided to err on the side of caution by not speaking to him unless asked a direct question. On the other hand, Adam knew for a fact that she could say plenty when she wanted. Laney had told him there were several times when Aunt Celie had given her a good talking-to about one thing or another. While she always maintained the societally acceptable demeanor in public, at home she had rightfully exercised her role as both Laney’s de facto guardian and mother figure since she was a little girl, not to mention she was the young woman’s elder, even if she was technically a slave.

  There was quite a bit of racket coming from upstairs.

  Adam looked at Aunt Celie and raised his eyebrows in confusion. “I feel like I might ought to go up there and give her some assistance,” he said, “but I don’t know that it’d be appropriate.”

  The old woman looked at him thoughtfully. She seemed as if she wanted to say something but wouldn’t, so Adam decided to be more direct.

  “Do you think I should just go up there and see if she needs help, Aunt Celie?”

  She pressed her lips together, then finally spoke. “I don’t reckon that’s called for, Mr. Adam. If Miss Laney need a thing in the world, she know Ima be right here.”

  Adam smiled at her, then nodded. “Indeed. You’re absolutely right.”

  Just then the two of them looked across the room, as they could hear someone enter through the door on the north side—the riverfront side—of the house. Before Adam could say anything, Martin Smith came through the swinging door from the hallway into the foyer. The devilishly handsome blond-haired twenty-eight-year-old waved at Adam, then looked at the old woman and waved.

  “Good mornin, Aunt Celie. You doin alright? All ready to go?”

  “I’m just fine and I’m all ready, Mr. Martin,” she said, tapping on the trunk next to her. “We just waitin on Miss Laney now.”

  “What in the world is takin that girl so long?” Martin directed his question at Adam. “There ain’t nothin here that her brother don’t have in New Bern!”

  Adam shrugged. “I don’t have the foggiest idea. She’s makin all kinds of noise up there, though. I was just asking Aunt Celie if she thought I ought to go up and help, but…”

  Martin chuckled, then gave Adam a sideways smile. “I reckon you did ask about going upstairs!” He looked over at the old woman and grinned. “What’d you tell him, Aunt Celie? He’d have to get past you first, right?”

  Aunt Celie narrowed her eyes and gave Martin a sideways stare, then let out a little giggle. “You know not! You know I wouldn’t say no sucha thing, Mr. Martin!”

  Martin flashed his blue eyes at her and winked. “Aw, I’m just teasin you, Aunt Celie. Just havin a little fun with you.”

  “Oh you!” She waved her hand at him dismissively and appeared to try to stifle a snicker.

  Even though Martin Smith was Laney Martin’s cousin and thus an extended member of the Martin family, it wouldn’t have mattered. If anyone outside the estate could’ve gotten Aunt Celie to talk or laugh, it would be him.

  Adam was grateful for it. It lightened the mood.

  Martin leaned across the banister near where Adam stood and yelled upstairs, “Laney Martin! What in the world is takin you so long? We got to get goin, girl!”

  Laney appeared over the balcony again. “I think I’ve got everything packed now. Just help me get this thing downstairs.” She pointed towards her bedchamber, then started to come down the stairs. “It’s just my old trunk,” she told Martin and Adam. “That’s all I’m bringing.”

  She came down to the foyer carrying only her little purse. It was made of green velvet that matched her emerald-green brocade dress perfectly. Adam was impressed with
the way the color of her dress reflected the color of her eyes.

  As she got to the bottom step, she said, “If y’all would get that for me, I’d be grateful.”

  Adam and Martin both ran up the stairs to Laney’s room.

  As soon as they got up there, Adam saw the trunk and looked at Martin. “What in the world does she have in this thing?”

  Martin shook his head. “Don’t ask me. There ain’t a thing here for her to pack that her brother don’t already have at his house in New Bern, except for her clothes.”

  Adam and Martin each grabbed an end of the trunk, which standing upright was nearly five feet high.

  Adam said, “I don’t see how a person can have enough clothes to fill a trunk like this.”

  “Well,” said Martin, “if anybody would have enough clothes to fill a trunk like this, it would be my cousin.”

  Adam briefly considered the fact that aside from the clothes he was currently wearing—a dark-blue frock coat, a waistcoat in charcoal gray, a white shirt and cravat, and gray breeches—his entire wardrobe would easily fit in a small sack.

  * * *

  WHEN THEY FINALLY GOT THE trunk downstairs, they loaded up both Laney’s and Aunt Celie’s luggage and then assisted the two women onto the periauger for the two-day sail to New Bern. The ladies were planning to stay in the colony’s capital through the winter, and with a string of Indian summer days, this would be a good chance to make the journey a pleasant and safe one.

  Adam untied the boat from the dock, and Martin took his place at the tiller.

  All of a sudden Aunt Celie grabbed Laney’s hand and squeezed it. Laney looked at her, brow wrinkled in confusion, as it to say, What is it?, and the old woman leaned over and whispered, “Ain’t they gon’ pray?”

  Laney did not hesitate to speak aloud Aunt Celie’s concern. “Don’t you say some kind of blessing before these voyages?”

  “Voyage?” Martin chuckled. “We ain’t goin to the Caribbean, girl—just New Bern!”

  “Perhaps the two of you sail around so much you just take it for granted that you’ll arrive safely, but it’s not something we do every day, so we’d both appreciate it if one of you—as a gentleman—would say a word before we begin our travels. Otherwise, I’ll just do it.”

  Martin rolled his eyes at Adam. He obviously thought it was ridiculous. Adam looked back at him in chastisement, then said to Laney and Aunt Celie, “You’re absolutely right, ladies. We oughtn’t take for granted that we’ll arrive safely—even though we usually do. You never know if you might run into foul weather all of a sudden, or other sorts of troubles while traveling. I’ll pray for us right now.”

  And he did. They all bowed their heads, and Adam offered a simple prayer that they would make it safely to New Bern without incident, and that he and Martin would have a safe journey back to Beaufort when it was time for them to come home.

  Martin looked over at his cousin and said, “Are we ready now?”

  Laney glanced beside her at Aunt Celie. The old woman then gave a nod.

  Laney looked at her cousin and gave a single nod. “Yes, all ready now.” She then turned her attention to Adam. “Thank you for the prayer.”

  Adam smiled at Laney. “Of course.”

  * * *

  IT REALLY WAS A BEAUTIFUL day for sailing. They traveled up Core Sound, since the waters were calmer there than they would be offshore.

  As they made their way north towards the Pamlico Sound, the four travelers spent time talking about all kinds of things. Adam shared colorful tales about unruly patrons that he had encountered over the years growing up in the Topsail Tavern. Martin told stories about his coworkers back at Rogers’s warehouse, including some that had been particularly amusing to Adam when he’d first heard them. Laney told funny anecdotes from when she was much younger and her brother still lived at home, and she was able to draw Aunt Celie into the conversation by asking her to recall some of the occasions where Old Charles had saved the day, including one episode when Charles discovered Will had set a small fire on the lawn by holding a glass over some dry leaves in the noon sun and, quick thinking as he was, grabbed Aunt Celie’s mop bucket and ran outside and dumped it on the small flames, getting young William wet in the process.

  Concerning very practical matters, the ladies were initially apprehensive about how they would answer nature’s call on board the periauger. They quickly figured out, however, that either of them could make use of the pot that was kept under one of the benches while the other stood in front of her holding up a blanket to offer her privacy. When they were done, they simply emptied the contents overboard.

  Fortunately for Adam and Martin, they were easily able to stand and take care of their personal business right off of the side of the boat.

  Late that night they made it as far as Cedar Island. Adam was relieved, as that meant, barring any unexpected weather conditions, they should be able to sail westward overnight down the Neuse River and arrive at New Bern a little after noon the next day.

  Although he and Martin had been to New Bern a number of times on errands for Emmanuel, he had never been to Will Martin’s estate. He was looking forward to seeing what it was like. In fact, this whole outing was something that had preoccupied Adam ever since he became aware they would be making the trip. It was the first time he had ever spent such a long stretch of time with Laney. He was grateful for a chance to have a longer visit with her than the usual few minutes of chatting that they were able to enjoy when they either ran into each other in town, or he had to go to her estate on business for Emmanuel.

  He knew she liked him. At least he was pretty sure she did.

  Ever since he had exposed the plot with Rasquelle and Reading the previous year—freeing her from the bonds of her unscrupulous guardian and protecting her from a potentially very dangerous situation—she had been especially friendly to him. At the end of that whole episode, she had gone so far as to call him her hero. He never did forget that, and even though he realized she was speaking only about that moment and those circumstances, in his heart he wanted to always be a man she could count on to look out for her and to protect her.

  It wasn’t just that, though. Adam knew a few things about young women. He had always been confident around them and had made more than his fair share of girls blush with just a well-timed wink or a smile. Back in the days when he thought his future would be centered around working at the Topsail Tavern, he assumed his dark, handsome looks, along with his self-assured personality, would be the virtues that would win him a bride—when he was ready to settle down, that is. And that was the last thing on his mind the day he was hauled down to the magistrate’s office and bound in service to Emmanuel Rogers until his twenty-first birthday.

  He was taken in by Laney Martin’s beauty—and that laugh—the day he first met her at a party. It was as though he were a fish and she held the line, and now, more than a year later, he was still happily on that hook. As he came to know her, though, he realized she was even more beautiful inside than out. She was kind, headstrong, and independent—and able to take care of herself, but also sincerely cared for others. He found himself deeply attracted to her and wanting to be the man she chose to spend her life with.

  Many of the single young women he knew in Beaufort (not that there were many—it was a small town, after all) were mild mannered and sweet natured, but they were for the most part just waiting for a suitor to come along and help them escape the monotony of life with their brothers and sisters, or to get out from under the authority of their parents. Laney, on the other hand, was orphaned as an adolescent, and though she had been assigned a legal guardian, he wasn’t always around. Aunt Celie had been the closest thing she had had to a parent, and as a slave—even though she was very maternal to Laney—she still would not have expected to wield any legal authority over the girl. Any obedience Laney had to Aunt Celie had come out of her deep affection and respect for the old woman rather than any societa
l expectations. That spoke volumes to Adam—that she was compassionate and did not act spoiled or entitled, as other young ladies in her circumstances might have done.

  That night, as they sailed across the sound without as much as saying a single word, Laney took the shawl that she had been using as a pillow and draped it over Aunt Celie. She could apparently see that the old woman was shivering, so Laney was trying to make her more comfortable. Adam knew there would be few women who might do that for another, much less for a slave, but that was just typical Laney. As quickly as she had taken the shawl and draped it over the old woman, Laney put her head down on her arms and tried to go back to sleep.

  As they neared the mouth of the Neuse River, the wind died. That left Adam and Martin with little choice but to row the periauger if they hoped to continue moving towards their destination. Adam only hoped they could make it to New Bern sooner rather than later before a new wind came up out of the northwest, which would make them have to tack the last eighteen miles into the wind.

  * * *

  WHILE THEY HAD THOUGHT THEY should arrive around noon the next day, the journey up the Neuse was slow going. They finally approached the colonial capital around eight o’clock that night, and Martin led them to dock the periauger at a wharf near the peninsula between the Neuse River and the mouth of the Trent River.

  “About how far is it to your brother’s place?” Adam asked Laney.

  Laney looked around to gauge exactly where they were. “Oh, we’re actually quite close. They’re just a few blocks north of here.”

  “Hmph.” Adam was pleasantly surprised. “That’s not far at all.”

  “It’s too far for us to walk in the dark, though, and especially not with all our things.” Laney looked at her cousin. “Why don’t you run on over there and let them know we’re here? You can come back with the cart.”