Angel of Ash Read online

  The next morning Patrick had awakened to find Glory had been sold and his father adamantly bitter that he’d never marry a niggress. Patrick had left his childhood home that very day, ignoring the bitter tears of his mother and sister and the anger of his father. He’d searched in futile for these past many years, not understanding why it had been so hard to find her especially since she was carrying his child. But Glory had told her young daughter that it was for the best her father not know where they were, because she didn’t want to be the cause of estrangement within their relationship. And so, Glory, had changed her name and given people whom they’d crossed made up stories as to who they were. Glory had also managed to escape the men who’d brought her and settled in New York, until she’d once again been captured by dastardly slave catchers and sold back into slavery along with her daughter to Laird, a brutal and evil man, while Patrick had assumed Glory still resided somewhere in the south.

  It wasn’t until Angel had left Laird’s home, escaping, also, the night, Hunter her best friend had, however, her legs had traveled south, towards her mother’s home. On the way there, the train had stopped in Boston, a man passing out flyers on an abolitionist’s meeting. She had read the flyer and her eyes widened in surprise at one name that had struck a chord deep within her soul.

  Patrick J. Barrett.

  Her father’s name. She’d stood there trembling, trying to hurriedly decide if this could actually be her father, a name her mother had told her upon her death bed, or just another man, with the same name. And as the train conductor blew his whistle and urged the passengers back onto the platform, Glory had stood, unsure of herself, but knowing that if she stepped back on to that train she would never know if this Michael J. Barrett was really her father, or not.

  And so she had stayed in the city of Boston, finding accommodations while waiting with baited breath for the time of the meeting to begin. The meeting was less than three blocks from where Angel stayed in a boarding house ran by a black woman and the woman had quickly given her directions there, while Angel with trepidation had walked quickly to the small building, twenty minutes early, in hopes that if this was her father, she would perhaps have a minute to speak with him.

  Knocking smartly on the door, the same man who’d given Angel the flyer, a black man with large dark eyes and a slim build, opened the door, neatly dressed in a dark gray suit. She smiled hesitantly while asking if Patrick J. Barrett was perhaps about.

  The man, Daniel, he’d introduced himself, nodded, staring with interest at this beautiful and young woman upon the doorway and wondered what business she had with Michael. But he kept his curiosity to himself, instead escorting her to the back of the building and knocking on a small office where a loud, enter, commenced from inside.

  Daniel opened the door, ushering the young female in, while Angel felt sick to her stomach, feeling as if she’d retch at any minute, while she’d rubbed clammy hands on her skirt, breathing deeply, before stepping in front of Daniel, who held the door open for her.

  “A Ms. Young wishes to speak with you, Patrick,” Daniel said, before nodding her further in the room while Angel hesitantly took another step and then stared at Daniel as he closed the door behind her.

  “Yes? What can I do for you?” The voice said behind the desk and Angel turned towards the voice, the man standing up beside his desk as his pen quickly flew over papers. “You must excuse me, ms; I am making last minute amendments to my speech which I will be given in less than fifteen minutes. Is there a problem?”

  And Angel, whose tongue had been glued to the top of her mouth, could merely shake her head while staring at this large man with dark, curly black hair which was slightly graying at the temples, ruddy colored cheeks, a lean build and large gray eyes rimmed in the darkest of blacks.

  “Are you Patrick Barrett?” She had finally managed to ask.

  And Patrick had nodded, dropping his pen and staring with open curiosity at this young woman in his office, believing that perhaps she had wanted to talk to him about slavery or wish for him to buy her freedom, which he often did. “Yes, I am he which you ask of.”

  “Are you Patrick Barrett…who was born on Hampstead plantation in south Virginia, in the county of Lumpkin?”

  Michael nodded again.

  “And would…you perhaps know of a slave who once resided upon your plantation, named Glory?”

  Michael felt the blood drain from his face, and for the first time in his life, he swayed slightly, before getting his bearings, staring at this beautiful young woman before him with large, gray eyes and black hair pulled back in a bun, where the loose, curly black tendrils escaped, framing her oval, brown face. “Yes…I, I knew of this Glory whom you ask about. My question to you is; how do you know her?”

  Angel paused, feeling her breath catch, after all these years, she knew in her heart of hearts that this white man standing before her, this abolitionist was her father, she met his gray eyes with her own, each rimmed in black and felt tears trembling in her eyes, not afraid to let them be seen, because she felt her heart constrict with love for a man she had just met minutes before. “I am Glory’s daughter…and I think yours, too.”

  And he had stared in shock, while Angel cried, before trying to speak; it took him three tries before he finally managed to say one word. “How…how old are you, tell me, please, your birth date.”

  “I am twenty years old…I was born, January 1, 1800, a New Year’s baby.”

  “And Glory? Where is she?”

  “She died, many years ago. I have a letter upon me, one in which she wrote, she told me who my real father was on her death bed because she thought, she did not want to be the reason why you became estranged from your father and your family, you have a mother, named Lydia, do you not? And a sister, named Angel, who I am named after. A sister who loves you fiercely, with gray eyes, like yourself. And you, you and Glory, my mother, grew up together, on your plantation, she was two years younger than you and you fell in love with her when you were twelve and she ten. You gave her flowers every Sunday, after church, you taught her to read, you gave her this wedding band,” Angel lifted it, sobbing, which was upon her hand, placed there after years of hiding it from Lair, from the slave sellers. “You gave this to her, in April, when she told you she was pregnant, with me, in declaration of your love and to tell her you wished to marry her, even though she said, you had already married her in your heart. It has your initials engraved upon the inner ring and roses, because those were my mother’s favorite flowers.”

  And suddenly Angel couldn’t speak anymore, tears pouring down her face, as she clasped her hands together, pressing them against her lips, her small shoulders jerking. “Please, please, please, tell me if you are my father…please…”

  And suddenly, Patrick, her father was beside her, even though Angel had not seen him move, wrapping her in his large, gray eyes, rubbing her back gently, she felt his own tears upon her. “Yes…Angel…you are my daughter, I am your father, after searching for you for twenty years it is you, who have found me.”

  Angel shook her head, the memories flooding her of that time, a short six months ago. He had firmly encased her in his home that morning and told the detectives working for him that the case was now closed and he no longer had any need for their surfaces.

  They had spent that entire night talking to each other and had not gone to sleep until six the next morning, neither wanting to miss out on another minute of the other’s lives.

  “I sent a letter, last week,” Patrick said, shaking the rest of Angel’s memories from her mind. “I expect to hear from the family, shortly, it has been a long time since I’ve written to him.”

  “But not your mother, or your sister, correct?”

  Patrick nodded. “I have yet, another surprise, for you, your aunt Angel, lives now in London, with her husband and stepchildren, she wishes to meet you something fierce, my love, she is an abolitionist there and has married one of the leaders and also a peer of the realm.
”

  “Father, why didn’t you tell me?” Angel exclaimed.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise, biding my time, so, you have family there, you will not be alone, and she says that once you get settled you should give her a ring and she will visit you, and I do believe she does not live far from where you told me Hunter lives. And there you shall have family to visit with.”

  Angel laughed, excitedly, her whole face lighting up, making her gray eyes merry. She hugged her father before dancing away, smiling. “Oh, I cannot believe this, and she wishes to see me? My goodness, father, what a wonderful secret! I will not be as home sick as I once thought I would be.”

  “And so here, you think of as your home?” Patrick asked hesitantly.

  “Of course, father, I am so blessed, to have you.”

  “And I, you daughter, and I you.”

  Angel stood on the deck of the ship, waving her father and Daniel away, who’d seen her safely on the Freedom Rider, the captain had once been a slave, but now free, had started his own shipping business and a close friend of her fathers. His ship carried passengers and goods, both to be delivered to London in a three week trip overseas. Angel had already found her sea legs and had stayed on board the ship until well after her father and Daniel had long since became nothing more than little spots upon the land. And then, even the land disappeared and Angel sighed softly, feeling sadness and joy at her leaving. Sad because she was leaving the father she’d only so recently met and joy because she was once again seeing Hunter, her childhood friend, whom she’d not seen in two years.

  “How do you fare, ms?” The captain asked her, a handsome man with coco skin in his late forties.

  “Rather well, Captain, thank you for asking after my help and I must once again thank you for your accommodations, father told me you were booked solid but managed to find space for me. He told me he trusted no other captain to take me to London.”

  Captain Roswell nodded, smiling, flashing white teeth. “Your father is a good man, Ms. And I shall not take his trust lightly. I must say with some pride we have one of the finest ships on the seas, light, but durable, able to skim across the, in no time. I studied ship building with many different countries and took the best of their ships and combined it into one.”

  Angel nodded, smiling. “Oh, to visit different countries, sometimes I do long for that. Yet already, I see I will soon begin, visiting England and father promises that we will soon visit the continent and Italy, once I come back. If it weren’t for his many meetings he would have come with me. I will miss him dreadfully in the months to come.”

  “I know you will, Ms. Barrett, I know you will, he will be waiting for you, however, once you return and do believe he will be waiting with opened arms, but for now, let me show you around the ship, since you have already been introduced with the crew. And then, perhaps, you can get refreshed before dinner which will be served at six.”

  “Yes, Captain Roswell, I will enjoy that immensely.”

  The night was spent at dinner and getting to know the other passengers upon the ship, people who were a rainbow of colors and all incredibly nice and hospitable. Angel was sharing a small room with a mother and daughter, two Native American women who were to go to London to join family and who thought nothing of opening their small room to Love, who felt embarrassed for imposing upon them.

  They would hear nothing of it, however, and Angel spent many days to come, strolling around the deck, with the women.

  The trip was more than enjoyable, and flew by quickly as the days melded into weeks and as Angel drew closer to London and her friend.

  Asher studied his pocket watch again, knowing that time was passing abysmally slow. He looked up in the slightly cloudy sky, the sun having budged not one inch, stared again at his pocket watch, frowned at the watch as if it had personally given him some slight and finally, placed it back inside his coat pocket. Frowning and pacing once more upon the dock of London’s sea.

  The dock was filled with activity and people from every land imaginable. Asher glanced around, studying crew men with large bundles upon their backs, darkly tanned skin and weary eyes. He had been like them once, trying to find his sister Hunter for near seven years, upon ship after ship, ocean after ocean, but since his sister’s reunion over two years ago, Asher never wanted to step upon another Godforsaken ship as long as he lived.

  Studying the ships coming into the harbor, he scanned the new ones, neither of which was called the Freedom Rider, the ship in which Angel, Hunter’s closest friend and companion was scheduled to be upon.

  The ship should have arrived, yesterday, which had been Monday, but Asher had gotten news from another voyager that the Freedom Rider had run into some bad weather as they neared the European continent and would therefore be a day or two late than what was originally expected.

  Asher had gritted his teeth, but stayed at the docks well until midnight, hoping vainly that the ship would turn up since he willed it so hard to do. Yet, it didn’t and close to one, Asher had went home and awakened the very next morning at five, at the docks once again at six, searching through the various ships for the Freedom Rider.

  It had not even been Asher’s responsibility to meet this Angel Hunter had instead had asked Caleb and David, her two most responsible and trusting brothers. Yet an explosion at one of Caleb’s factories and a sickness with David had kept the two from appearing at these wharfs. Hunter had then asked their twin brothers Michael and Luke to meet the young Angel, here, but both had been nearer to Bath than London, on other business, before Hunter finally relinquished and asked Asher with stony anger if he could therefore meet Angel at the docks and escort her to Hunter’s home.

  It wasn’t as if Hunter didn’t love Asher, if Hunter was honest with herself, she perhaps favored Asher above the rest of her brothers, it was just that, Hunter knew how cold Asher could be around women who weren’t his family and she wanted to make Angel feel as welcome as possible and not get the acid turn of Asher’s tongue.

  She would have made the trip to London, herself, if she could have, but Hunter was overdue to have her child at any minute and her husband had adamantly stated that she was not to leave their home until she delivered their child and rested for no less than four weeks after its’ delivery.

  Hunter, in her disagreeable mood, because she felt so fat, like a great, big seal, stuck her tongue at her husband childishly but decided not to argue. Instead she penned a note to Asher who was currently residing in London, and asked him, no told him, in no unmistakable jargon, that he would have to meet Angel at the docks on Monday and that he could in no way or form treat her callously, but that she should be treated like his dearest sister, who was Hunter, and be waited on hand and foot until he escorted her to Hunter or else.

  Asher frowned at the letter, before rumpling it together. He had in fact, been readying himself to go to Gabe’s estate to be there for the birth of his first niece or nephew and was instead stuck hauling off this woman to Hunter with him.

  Bad enough that the trip would be a two days ride outside of London, but to have some woman who wasn’t related to him travel with him whom, as Hunter had expressly stated, he could not make any sexual advances towards her, at all.

  Asher smiled, knowing Hunter knew him so very well. He was extremely grateful to this Angel for being there with his sister, during her years in captivity in America, kept a near prisoner by a deranged and an abusive man who’d commanded her to call him father, it was just that if he had no use for the girl sexually, the trip would be an utter bore.

  So he thought of in his head, how ugly the girl might be, glad that he thought of such an idea, which would make the trip a boredom to be sure but at least he wouldn’t be likely to try to tickle her under the sheets before they made it to Hunter’s estate.

  Yes, he firmly shelved all thoughts of lust, seeing as how it had been long months since he’d last involved himself with any female and placed his mind firmly in charge of his body, an easy enough
thing, breathing deeply and facing the docks, his hands behind his back and staring out over the waves.

  A voice yelled from high atop the flag pole, the man with his telescope pointing towards a speck on the ocean that Asher was just able to make out.

  “The Freedom Rider is making ways!” He cried out, his job expressly to tell the people below which ship was coming in.

  Asher let out a relieved sigh, not moving as the ship came closer and closer, by the time he was able to make out the ship, he knew the storm had not been too terrible, the ship slightly damaged and perhaps looking a tad bit more weather beaten than its’ departure.

  Men scurried to pull the ship in as long ropes were thrown to them and Asher quickly scanned the deck, trying to decide which one was Angel. He had not enough time to pen a note back to Hunter asking her to describe her American friend, and could do nothing but stare at the many different faces, before his alighted on possible choices, but even then he could not be quite sure, because he had no idea just exactly whom he was to look for.

  Angel smiled, helping Danielle pack the last of her items, due to the storm, their clothing had gotten tossed about like rag dogs and left their room an utter mess, but Angel didn’t care, the storm had been short and brutal and she was just happy now that it was well over.

  “We make dock!” A male voice yelled from above and both girls smiled at each other, glad that they were at last to reach dry, hard ground after weeks aboard the ship.