Charlie slowed down his mare as he approached the centre of Charleston. It wouldn’t do to gallop a horse through the streets of a city, after all. The risk of the horse running over someone or slipping on the cobblestones was too great. For the third time since he left home, Charlie took the watch out of the pocket of his vest only to see what he already knew. He swore silently to himself. He was too late, they would have arrived over an hour ago. Not that he hadn’t known that already when he had left his home. It was just that now, when he was actually closing in on his brother’s home it became all the more real.
He’d had this day planned for over a month now. He was to arrive at his brother’s well before their train was due, dressed in the same green cravat and vest as he had been dressed in on their second meeting, ready to meet both Miss Granger and his sister when they arrived. He would stand next to Bill and Fleur and while they greeted Ginny, he would greet Miss Granger, taking her arm as he, rather than Ginny, introduced her to Bill and Fleur, showing her through his actions that it was his idea to invite her, not Fleur’s or Bill.
It had been a good plan. But then the new slave he’d bought at the slave market next to the Custom House on Broad Street a couple of days ago, had decided that today was an excellent day to escape. Charlie had spent the entire morning searching for the fugitive, knowing that if the young man were to stand any chance of survival, he needed to find him before there was any leak of his escape to the surrounding plantation owners. Runaway slaves were shot or hanged, and he just couldn’t allow the chase to be conducted by anyone else than himself. Even with explicit instructions not to hurt or kill the man, the risk of him being brought back dead or maimed was far too large.
He’d found and caught the man just before noon, and been forced to watch as he was clad in chains to stop him from escaping again. Charlie hated chains. It was the first thing he’d remove after bringing a slave home, and they were rarely, if ever, used after a slave had arrived on his lands. With young men such as this one, however, there was no alternative to stop him from escaping, and hence better for his safety to use them than be free of them.
Charlie was late when they started the ride back to the plantation, but not more than could be rectified with a fast ride. But, of course, fate had decided to conspire even more against him, and so he had run into Mr Malfoy on the way home, and had to explain the reason he was out riding and why he had a slave clad in chains on the cart following behind him.
Mr Malfoy had argued that fugitives should be shot, or at the least be clad in a collar containing loud bells that sounded as he walked. That way you could supposedly hear when they tried to escape and didn’t need to bother keeping such a close watch on them.
Charlie had forced a smile on his lips and thanked him for his advice and attempted to be on his way, but Mr Malfoy had turned his horse around and decided to follow him home. Etiquette preventing Charlie from riding ahead and Malfoy never being one to ride fast, the way back had been languid and slow. By the time they reached the plantation, Charlie had been about ready to strangle his neighbour if he didn’t be quiet about how to best treat slaves that had escaped.
“And of course, you have to give the young man a thorough thrashing with the whip. But then I hardly need to tell you that,” he’d said with a grin and a wink.
Surprised that he could still smile convincingly, Charlie had nodded and agreed, knowing that the young man behind him would have heard and would be even less inclined to stay at the plantation now.
Noon had turned into early afternoon before Charlie could leave for Charleston, and even if he had ridden as fast as he could without straining his horse too much, he was now more than an hour late. Ginny and Miss Granger would be well settled in by now.
As he turned onto Queen Street, he could see the big house that belonged to his brother. It was one of the bigger ones on the street, built recently with inspiration from the big plantations outside of town. Big white columns decorated the front of the light blue house, and a railing between the columns created a big balcony on the second floor that stretched along the entire front of the house.
The carriage that his brother had sent to pick Ginny and Miss Granger up was standing empty next to the house. Even the luggage had been brought inside, and the horses had been moved to their stables. One of the servants took his horse as Charlie jumped off, promising to take good care of the tired mare.
Bill was the first to greet him when he stepped into the spacious drawing room. Seeing Charlie enter, he tossed his newspaper on the table in front of him and rose quickly. In the corner of his eye, Charlie could see Fleur looking up from her embroidery where she sat next to the window. She slowly put down her work on the table next to her, never one to hurry things or move too fast. Rushing was unladylike she claimed with passion, whenever Bill urged her to speed up.
“I thought you were going to come much sooner,” Bill said as he took Charlie’s hand. “The girls arrived well over an hour ago,” he added.
Nodding his hello to Fleur as she got up from the chair and walked over to him, Charlie turned back to his brother.
“I was detained,” he said with displeasure.
“Well, you are ‘ere now, and ze girls are upstairs washing off ze travel dust,” Fleur said with her deep French accent, stretching out her hand for Charlie to kiss. “Did you know, zat Miss Granger ‘ad never seen a bathtub with a gas furnace*?” she asked as the three of them moved over to the sofa. Bill laughed softly.
“I’ve been trying to tell my deer wife here that bathtubs such as this one are a novelty, not a matter of course, and that they aren’t at all common in Boston,” Bill said laughing.
“But Boston ees a city!” Fleur said heatedly. “In Paris, someone of Miss Granger’s status would be sure to ‘ave one,” she insisted.
“Boston isn’t Paris, my dear,” Bill said. “And besides, it wasn’t more than twenty years ago that they banned all kind of bathing that wasn’t directly medicinal in purpose*,” he added, making Fleur gasp and stare at him with utter disbelief.
“Actually, last I heard, that law hasn’t been repealed yet,” Charlie added with a smile, highly amused by the shocked expression on Fleur’s face.
“You mean zat people in Boston do not bathe!” she exclaimed, making both Charlie and Bill fold over with laughter.
“Of course they do, my love,” Bill said happily. “No one cares about that bill anymore. It’s just that bathtubs and running water might take a bit longer there, that’s all,” he laughed softly.
“Zen I’m glad zat we aren’t living in Boston!” Fleur said with a huff, never one to enjoy being the focus of laughter.
The ringing of a bell brought a young maid into the room and Fleur ordered tea to be brought to them. With a simple look and an arched brow from her, Bill had folded his newspaper and put it away. Charlie smiled. He found these silent communications between Bill and Fleur highly amusing, especially since while Bill often claimed to rule his household, everyone knew that it was Fleur that held the real power in the house. Bill simply adored her too much to deny her anything she wanted.
“So what was it that kept you?” Bill asked as they were well seated with the tea in front of them.
“An escape,” Charlie said quietly, casting a glance through the door at the staircase on the other side. “The young man I acquired the other day at the market,” he added.
“Did you find him again?” Bill asked. Charlie nodded.
“I’ll probably send him along with the next shipment. I hate the idea of being forced to have him in chains“”
“Bill! Charlie! No talking business now,” Fleur interrupted them, clearly displeased. Both men stopped and smiled at her.
The sound of voices drifting down the staircase caught their attention, and suddenly Charlie was more than thankful that Fleur had interrupted his chat with Bill. If things went the way he had hopes for, he would have to tell Miss Granger about his business soon, but he still wanted to spend more time with her before he decided if the risk was worth taking or not. Besides, judging from her previous statements on slavery, starting out by talking about putting a man in chains would hardly be the best way to go about telling her about him owning slaves.
When she entered the room, Charlie nearly gasped. She was dressed in the same crimson house dress that she’d worn on his first visit to her house, and again, Charlie was struck by the thought that she should never be allowed to wear any other colour at all. The glow of her skin, the reflections in her hair, it all worked perfectly together, making her far more beautiful than any time else.
“Charlie, you’re here!” Ginny said, passing her friend as she approached him to give him a hug. Charlie smiled and hugged her, making sure to ask her if the trip had been pleasant and if their brothers were alright in New York. He hardly heard her answers, however, his attention too focused on Miss Granger for that.
“Miss Granger, how lovely to see you again,” he said, leaving his sisters company to approach her. “I’m terribly sorry, I was not here to greet you when you arrived, it was my every intention to be, but unfortunately life decided differently,” he said with a smile as he lifted her hand to his lips. “Will you forgive me?” he asked, still holding her hand.
The blush that spread across Miss Granger’s cheeks was almost as flattering as the dress, and the smile that she couldn’t keep back as she lowered her eyelashes made Charlie all the more sure that he had been right to ask Fleur to extend the invitation to her. He had been worried that his, or her, feelings would have dulled or changed with the distance in time and space, but meeting her now, made him realise that there had been no need to worry.
“There is really nothing to forgive, Mr Weasley,” Miss Granger said. “I am your brother’s guest, so there was no need for you to be here and greet me when I arrived,” she continued, raising her head to meet his gaze once more.
Charlie smiled. “That may be, but I am still terribly sorry that I wasn’t. Will you not say you forgive me,” he insisted, sporting a playful grin.
“Only if it won’t stop you from making it up to me,” she teased him.
“Never!” he laughed. “But it will make me feel better,” he continued.
“Then I’ll forgive you,” she said with a wide smile.
“Will you keep the lady occupied for much longer, Charlie? Or did you plan on letting her join the rest of us for tea, anytime soon,” Bill called out from the sofa, making Ginny laugh and Miss Granger blush once more. Charlie glared at his brother from behind Miss Granger as they walked over to the other, but Bill only smiled and winked as they both sat down.
The afternoon passed far too quickly for Charlie’s taste. On Miss Granger’s demand, Bill talked briefly about his job at the Bank of Charleston, and Fleur took it upon herself to inform her about the workings of Charleston social life, and which types of functions she would take both young women to during the time they stayed in their house.
“We will ‘ave afternoon tea at least once at the Planter’s ‘otel,” she said happily. “Zat is a very popular ‘otel zis time of year. All ze wealthy planters stay zere during the social season, and it ees a very good place to meet ze right people,” she explained. “Zen zere is ze formal dinner at Madame Parkinson’s and ze traditional tea-party at Madame Brown’s, and of course, ze balls which will be spread out throughout ze season, starting with mine next week,” she finished with a wide smile.
“We’ll get to pay the plantation a visit too, won’t we, Charlie?” Ginny asked when Fleur was finally done talking.
“Of course,” Charlie said with a smile, sharing a look with Miss Granger. He was pleased to see that she lit up a little at the prospect.
“After ze ball,” Fleur interjected quickly. “We ‘ave a lot to prepare before zen,” she added with a smile.
When tea-time was over, Fleur made excuses for not only herself, but for Ginny and Miss Granger as well. Always one to take her role as a hostess seriously, she was quickly proving a bigger obstacle for Charlie than Mr and Mrs Granger when wanting to spend time alone with Miss Granger. A bit discontented, Charlie settled for spending the rest of the afternoon discussing business with his brother, planning for the next shipment of slaves up north.
The fact that Bill worked at the bank was fortunate and truly helped when needing to cover the differences in the amount of cotton that officially went out on shipments and the amount of money that came in. A few changes in the books, and Charlie’s affairs seemed in perfect order for anyone who would care to take a look. Not that many would, but since Mr Snape had taken over the courthouse, it seemed wise not to give him the opportunity to suspect any foul play. Mr Snape had, after all, in spite of him only being twelve at the time, been one of the men behind the exposure of Denmark Vesey’s planned slave rebellion in 1822. Something he pointed out both often and willingly. He was known for his hard views on slavery and for being one of the men that argued hardest for keeping the law that all black seamen “ free or otherwise “ should be imprisoned in the city jail while their ship was in port.
Dinner was, as always, a fancy affair when Fleur was responsible. Dishes were mainly French in origin, since Fleur claimed that ‘Americans knew nothing of the pleasures of proper cuisine!’ She had insisted on hiring a French housekeeper to rule over the kitchen the moment she’d accepted Bill’s proposal, and she made sure that any young slave that was ever let into the kitchen was properly trained in the art of French cuisine before being allowed anywhere close to the pots and pans. As a result dinner was always exquisite and unusual, and anyone lucky enough to be invited to formal dinners at their house left almost ecstatic. There were a lot of things that could be said about Fleur, but not doing things to perfection was not one of them.
Miss Granger too seemed impressed with the food, and seemed both happy and at ease during dinner. Fleur had, thankfully, arranged for her to sit next to Charlie during the meal, so Charlie did get to speak to her a little more than before, although not nearly as much as he would have wanted to. When Fleur suggested that she, Ginny and Miss Granger should withdraw after dinner to leave Bill and Charlie to their cognac and cigars, Charlie could only feel frustration with the situation. Never had he thought that courting a woman would be harder when she was away from her parents.
He left before having the opportunity to see her again, forced to leave by the quickly fading light of the day. Evening fell increasingly quickly and the road home took its time. Had he not known the road as well as he did, he would have hesitated before riding in twilight, and even with his deep knowledge of the way, he wished to return home before darkness fell. Crickets had already started to serenade the coming night, as Charlie rode out into the oak lined road, where the Spanish moss, hanging from those oaks, swayed gently in the warm breeze of the evening as Charlie urged his horse into a quick trot, waiting to change to a gallop until he was outside the city.
************************************************************
* Some of the earlier types of bathtubs were shoe-shaped and made out of either copper or tin. They had a gas furnace at the end to heat the water, which would flow and circulate until it was properly heated. These first types of tubs like this were still filled up in the manual way, but during the 19th century running water was becoming increasingly common.
* In 1835 Boston passed a bill forbidding bathing for other than medical reasons. As far as I have found that law was never repealed “ although I have a feeling that most people living in Boston happily break it every day :D