Part One: The Pirate
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Chapter 1: An uncomfortable discovery
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Fort Royal, Martinique, April 1830
How should a well brought up Martiniquaise react to the discovery that the woman she has always thought of as her mother, in fact, isn't? Or at least, she isn't the woman who gave birth to her. That's the shocking discovery that is facing me. The privilege of being called my mama apparently belongs to a woman named Jacqueline. On reflection, the possibility should have occurred to me before now. I look nothing like Brigitte Thibert, the woman I have called Mama for twenty one years. My straight black hair, roundish face, and olive skin are at odds with Mama's angular visage, wavy chestnut hair and paler skin tone. Although not so obvious until recent years, our body shapes are different. She has small breasts and flat buttocks, while I've been endowed with a generous helping of both. Sure, I could have inherited some my features from my long dead father, but I would surely have some physical attributes that I share with Mama. As far as I can tell, I have none beyond the usual two arms, two legs and a head.
Although I found the adoption paper a few weeks ago, Mama is so far unaware of my accidental discovery. For the moment, our relationship is unchanged. That will change the moment I tell Mama about my discovery of the paper she clearly wanted to keep secret. I would be foolish to continue to hide it from her. At least two other people have shared in my discovery, so keeping the document a secret forever is a forlorn hope.
I remind myself that being adopted at birth isn't a sin. Unfortunately it will certainly cloud the attitude of the other fine young ladies of Fort Royal towards me. It's possible that I'll no longer be allowed to associate with their elitist group. Perhaps not quite an outsider, but definitely relegated to the fringe of their purist social circle. In some respects I would find it a relief to be ejected from the elite circle, but Mama wouldn't be pleased with me if that happened. I'm of marriageable age and it's something of a mystery why Mama hasn't pushed me on the subject before.
So, apart from telling Mama, how should I respond to my unexpected discovery? I could shrug it off as unimportant, and deal with any snide remarks. I'm still the same person that I've always been, so to that extent my discovery is unimportant. However, the option of ignoring my discovery will almost certainly be denied to me in the cut-throat social circles of Martinique's upper crust. Although my attitudes and behaviour have been moulded by Mama, it's my birth mother I will be called on to defend to the prissy snobs of Fort Royal high society.
I stop procrastinating, and I hand the document to Mama. She only briefly glances at the paper, obviously knowing what it says. I soon learn that preserving my social status is going to be far more difficult than I thought. Mama remembers next to nothing about my birth mother, and what she knows doesn't help my cause one little bit. I can't seem to get past the fact that Jacqueline was a slave.
"Curiosity can lead you to make discoveries that you may wish you had left unknown, Andrea," says Mama when she studies the document I have discovered. "Are you sure you want to know more?"
"Yes, Mama. I do."
"Hmm. On your head be it. What have I told you about my late husband?"
"Next to nothing. You rarely speak of him. You said that he died before I was a year old."
"Hmm. You need to understand that my late husband, Jules Thibert, was a coward, a philanderer, a cheat, and a liar. At those were just his better attributes. It's fitting that he died an unsavoury death in a backstreet brothel. Ours was a marriage of convenience to cement a political alliance, and nothing more. As you know, Jules owned and operated the Ladybird plantation in the north-east of the island.
"A few years after Jules and I married, the physicians told me that I cannot bear children. Adoption was the only option we had to have children. That's why I agreed to adopt you. Jacqueline had been pregnant when we acquired her. Apparently she had been captured by pirates and sold into slavery. Undoubtedly one of her captors had dipped his wick in her pot before parting with her. Despite her rough edges, Jacqueline was a resourceful young woman, and a hard worker. However, she had some unsavoury friends who tracked her to our plantation. They negotiated for Jacqueline's freedom. Jules and I agreed to grant Jacqueline her freedom in exchange for adopting her child... you. It was an arrangement that suited everyone, including you. Even as a free woman, Jacqueline was in no position to support a child.
"I thought your adoption would satisfy Jules' desire for a child. He seemed content for several months after we adopted you. However, unknown to me, Jules wanted a boy, and he decided on another route to creating heirs. He started making frequent use of an owner's privilege of fucking his slave women whenever he liked.
"We owned nearly forty slaves. However, the female slaves were dark skinned, making their progeny unsuitable as a plantation owner's next of kin. Then a young olive skinned woman, not unlike your mother before her, came into our possession. But there the similarity with Jacqueline ended. Fleur was a timid little thing who was born into slavery. She was obedient and submissive and well practised at spreading her legs. She soon became Jules' favourite bed warmer. She was pregnant by the time Jules met his end.
"Since only a male can own land, Jules' odious brother Henri inherited our plantation. I was awarded a modest stipend that has enabled you and I to live as we do. Jules also saddled me with a few problems as well, Fleur being the biggest.
"Henri didn't want me living on the plantation, so I moved to Saint Pierre with you and Fleur. My extended family was well established in both Fort Royal and Saint Pierre society, so it was easy to make the transition. Some months later, Fleur gave birth to twins; a boy and a girl. My reputation in local society needed to be beyond reproach. It was easy to pass you off as my own child, but too many people knew that I wasn't the mother of the twins.
"To cut a long story short, Fleur and I agreed that I would adopt Randolph, while she would keep her daughter. Randolph was Jules' son, so by adopting him, I made him a legitimate heir to the plantation should Henri die without freeborn boys of his own. Given Henri's sexual preferences, there was virtually no prospect of Henri marrying, so my reasoning was sound. As part of the arrangement, I granted Fleur manumission, and she left my employ soon afterwards. Unfortunately Fleur fell into debt a few years later, and she was once again enslaved.
"Although I've never hidden the fact that Randolph is adopted, I've been less honest about your origins. Until now, you and society at large have always believed that you are my own child. Somehow Henri prised the truth about your birth out of one of his slaves. He briefly tried to blackmail me in exchange for his silence. He even delved into your mother's background, but I'm unsure what he discovered other than your mother was my slave when you were born. Of course, with the re-emergence of this document, all the secrecy is academic now. Fortunately Henri lost interest in us once we moved to Fort Royal."
"And what about Jacqueline?" I ask.
"Hmm. There's not much I can add. She was a pleasant enough young woman, but she could clearly be dangerous if crossed. I regret that we treated her poorly. When Jacqueline gave birth, and signed the adoption paper, she was told that you were a boy. Jacqueline was never given a chance to verify that for herself. Jules and I feared that she may return one day to reclaim her son. Our deception ensured that she would be unable to find him. If you look carefully at the adoption paper, you will see that the name Andre has been altered to Andrea, and the baby's gender has been added using a different ink. Those alterations were made after Jacqueline had left us.
"Jules sent Jacqueline on her way penniless, with only the dress on her back. As you know, the Ladybird plantation is a long way from any town. Jules probably expected Jacqueline to die in the hills on the journey to Saint Pierre. However, we later learned she had succeeded in getting off the island on an English warship. We never heard from her again."
"What about her family name?" I ask. "The document refers to her as Jacqueline Thibert. Is she a distant relation?"
"Slaves use their owner's family name when they are acquired. I can't remember her previous one. It's possible I was never told it."
I feel overwhelmed. But I'm getting ahead of myself with my story. Perhaps I should backtrack, and explain how I came into possession of the document in the first place.
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Chapter 2: An overheard conversation
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Although we are now the best of friends, my first impression of Samantha wasn't favourable. Despite being the mayor's daughter, Samantha was an oddity among the well brought up young ladies of Fort Royal society. More importantly, she obviously didn't care what people thought of her. That was what drew my attention towards her in the first place. Before long, I realised that she was the rebel that I desperately wanted to be.
In case you mistakenly believe that the elite social circles of Fort Royal society consists of wealthy women drinking tea while dressed in corsets and numerous petticoats, let me correct you. Firstly, the local climate is tropical, so anybody foolish enough to go around wearing a corset gets cooked. Similarly, dresses are invariably sleeveless and lightweight, and plunging necklines are common. That doesn't mean fine ladies carry on like 'filles de joie'... at least not in public.
