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“You must be Maria,” the Negress said in a squeaky, shrill voice, reminding Maria of Nathan Hawkins's voice. “Ah'm Mama Pearl,” the Negress added, moving quickly to Maria, hugging her as she might do a long lost child.
Maria squirmed, succeeding at setting herself free, looking at her crushed flowers that now hung limply between her fingers. She let them drop to the walk in front of her, trembling. She had dreaded this day. No hugs from a jolly, fat woman were going to make her feel any better about things.
Mama Pearl grabbed Maria by the hand. “Come on inside, Sweet Baby,” she said. “Mastah Hawkins is a waitin’ foh ya'all. He's been a pacin’ the floah like a true bridegroom for sho. He's proud as punch he is to be gettin’ the likes of ya'all as a bride. Now you isn't the first bride on his list, but maybe the last, bless yore heart.”
Maria's heart faltered. “Nathan Hawkins has been married before?” she gasped.
“Moh times than ah wants to count on mah fingahs,” Mama Pearl said, laughing shrilly, still tugging on Maria's arm.
“But where are these women now?” Maria whispered, her face paling.
“When Nathan Hawkins tires of his womenfolk, he just sends them on thea way,” Mama Pearl giggled.
“Do you mean some could still claim to be married to him?” Maria said, paling even more.
“No one would dare ahgue this point with Mastah Hawkins,” Mama Pearl said, glowering. “When he says the marriage is ovah . . . it's ovah.”
“But… the … law … ?”
“In this county, Mastah Hawkins is the law.”
Fear and apprehension gripped Maria's insides. It seemed that Nathan Hawkins was even more powerful than she had ever imagined. Would she truly be able to
help her people now, knowing the extent of his strength in this state of Illinois? Was he truly the law?
She moved up the steepness of the front steps, onto the widespread porch, then breathed unevenly as Mama Pearl opened the heavy oak door that led inside.
“Come on, Sweet Baby,” Mama Pearl said, gesturing with her hand for Maria to move on into the house.
Maria lowered her eyes and lifted the skirt of her dress up into her arms. “Yes, ma'am,” she finally murmured, brushing on by Mama Pearl until she found herself standing on a thick oriental carpet that circled beneath heavy oak tables and plushly upholstered chairs and settees clustered about a large, even overpowering room.
Maria lifted her eyes and let her gaze travel across the room to where Nathan Hawkins stood against a large, muraled wall. He was as she remembered. Ugly, short, yet menacing, as his pale gray eyes smoldered beneath his briar-thicket eyebrows. His bushy gray moustache moved as he licked his lips; and all the while he studied her in return.
His black coat fit him perfectly, emphasizing the smallness of his shoulders, and his breeches were tight, showing the bow of his legs.
But it was his bald head that took Maria's full attention. As before, it shone like glass beneath the bright array of electric lightbulbs that decorated a fancy crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling over his head.
“So you have come as I requested,” Nathan said, moving toward her in-a slow stride. He clasped his hands tightly behind him, moving around her.
Maria recoiled, moving away from him. “And did I have any choice but to do so, sir?” she hissed, hating it when his bony fingers touched the flesh of her hand.
“Is the thought of becoming my wife so repulsive?” he said. His voice held no emotion. It was apparent that he always got what he wished for. Even if it was a young lady thirty years younger than himself.
“You are unbearable, Nathan Hawkins,” Maria said, swallowing hard. She seemed to be weakening under his steady gaze. It seemed that his eyes, though gray and empty as they were, had a way of hypnotizing a person. Maria swung around and placed her back to him. She would show him that, yes, soon he would own her body, but never, no never, her mind.
“Mama Pearl, is my luggage placed aboard the carriage?” Nathan asked, pulling gloves from his coat pocket, working them carefully onto each finger.
“Yes, suh, Mastah Hawkins,” Mama Pearl said.
“Then Maria and I will be leaving for the train depot,” Nathan said, going to Maria, jerking her around to face him. He looked up into her face, smiling crookedly. “We'll be wed in Saint Louis,” he said.
“Yes suh, Mastah Hawkins,” Pearl said, grinning from ear to ear, then left the room.
“Saint Louis?” Maria gasped, placing her fingers to her throat.
“Yes. Saint Louis,” he snapped. “But upon our arrival there, we will have to see to it that you will have proper attire fitted you. i cannot let a wife of mine be seen in such … ah … a dress as you have chosen to wear.”
Maria's face colored. She looked down at her dress, having been so proud of it. She had waited forever, it seemed, to find the proper time to wear it. And now that she had . . . he . . . this Nathan Hawkins .. . ridiculed it? But then she remembered the way the fancy ladies had been dressed in New York. Their dresses and their hats had been so lovely. So stylish. Yes, she could understand why Nathan Hawkins would be ashamed to be seen in the company of a lady attired in a cheap dress that had been purchased in Italy for only a few lire.
