The Velvet Shadow by Angela Elwell Hunt Read Free Book Online Page B

history.” Roger gave Flanna a rueful smile. “I think she was there when the forefathers wrote the Constitution.”
    “Then perhaps she can recall what happened in Washington only three years ago.” Flanna shifted her gaze from Roger back to his mother.“Do you remember the momentous Supreme Court decision
Dred Scott v. Sandford?
President Buchanan claimed that the court would settle the issue of slavery once and for all, and the court ruled that no black man, free or slave, is a U.S. citizen and therefore has no rights under the law.”
    Flanna inclined her head in an exaggerated gesture of respect. “When it comes down to facts, Mrs. Haynes, slavery is a choice the law allows us to make. Is that not one of our precious American liberties, the freedom of choice? Any man may choose whether or not he wants to own slaves. And this same freedom of choice has allowed my countrymen, as you call them, to withdraw from a union that no longer represents their interests. In 1776 thirteen states came together to protect each other; now South Carolina wishes to withdraw and protect itself. Would you forbid my family and statesmen the liberty to choose for themselves?”
    “My very dear Miss O’Connor.” Roger’s hoarse voice held a note halfway between disbelief and pleading. “Will you join me for a walk in the garden? I daresay this waiting has grown tedious for you, and Mother’s garden is the toast of Boston.”
    Flanna hesitated, then caught the gleam of desperation in Roger’s eye. Belatedly remembering her manners, she lowered her head in assent, then gathered her skirts and allowed him to help her to her feet.
    As soon as they passed the parlor doorway, he bent to whisper in Flanna’s ear. “I don’t blame you for feeling edgy after hearing that confounded song three times in a row, but raising an argument at Christmas is a bit much, don’t you think? I thought we agreed we would not discuss politics today.”
    Flanna pasted on a polite smile as a servant stepped out of a hallway, then held her tongue until they had stepped out into the garden. The winter wind nipped at her cheeks, but she scarcely noticed it, so fierce was her rising indignation.
    “Roger!” She whirled on him in an Old Testament mood, unwilling to turn the other cheek just yet. “I will not allow your mother todeposit this entire issue at my feet. I don’t know what she thinks
my people
are, but we are not barbarians! If the truth be told, the politicians in Washington have done more to stir up this present unpleasantness than any slaveholder I know!”
    “But must you sharpen your tongue on my mother’s ears?”
    He reached out, and she shivered as his hands fell upon her arms. He’d been in such a hurry to escort her from the parlor that he’d neglected to bring her mantle. His eyes softened when he saw her tremble.
    “How thoughtless of me,” he said, releasing her. He began to slip out of his own coat. “You must be freezing.”
    “Roger, don’t be foolish, you can’t let the servants see you half-dressed. Don’t give them something else to gossip about.” Rubbing her hands over her thin sleeves, she nodded toward the door. “I’ll be all right. Just go inside and fetch my mantle. This brisk wind is probably just the thing to cool my temper.”
    His tight expression relaxed into a smile. “Right you are. I’ll be back in a moment.”
    He stepped away, his long stride carrying him back into the house in three steps. Flanna rubbed her hands over her arms again, then moved into a patch of sunlight that stretched between the house and the garden wall. Roger’s suggestion of the garden was an obvious excuse to get her away from his mother, for the spindly rose canes and banked flower beds alongside the house were pitiful and bare. A weathered wooden bench sat in an alcove beneath the parlor window, but Flanna had no desire to sit in the chilly shade. Instead she walked briskly in the sunlight, hugging her arms as she