amazed to find herself delighted by a negro. ‘Oh, thank you, my dear,’ she said, as she sniffed. Caroline called out to her brother asking, ‘John, what’s this one’s name?’
‘How in heaven’s name would I know?’ came his reply.
‘But she’s adorable. Do not you think so, John?’ Caroline said before adding, ‘What did you say she was called?’
Commanding Kitty with a nod of his head to answer his sister’s question, John Howarth let go the horse’s rein and got down from the gig. When Kitty said nothing, he shouted, ‘Tell your mistress the name of the child.’
And Kitty spoke in a whisper, ‘July.’
Not hearing Kitty’s reply, Caroline asked once more, ‘What’s her name?’ at which John Howarth snapped impatiently upon his sister, ‘July, Caroline. She said July. Like the month!’
‘But July is not a suitable name,’ Caroline said, while her brother asked of Kitty, ‘What are you called?’
Her reply, spoken softly to his feet, gave him reason to laugh. ‘Kitty. I thought so. Yes . . . yes, I remember now,’ he said, before calling his sister to him, ‘Caroline, come here, I have something amusing for you.’
When Caroline joined John where he stood, she found herself forced to look up at the slave Kitty. For Kitty was tall and none but the stoutest ever looked upon her in the eye. Come, not even the massa had that licence. After staring upon Kitty—into the deep nostrils of her broad, flat nose, around her thick lips and past her sturdy ample shoulders—Caroline leaned toward the ear of her brother to whisper, ‘Is it a woman?’
‘It is indeed,’ he laughed.
‘And the mother of this child?’
‘I believe so.’
Caroline wondered how any man under God’s sky would want to lie with such a loathsome creature. And how a beast so ugly that she blocked out all sunlight before her, could mother such an adorable child?
Her brother was still speaking, waving his arm upon his slave so Caroline might best take in the full summit of Kitty. ‘The amusing thing about this one is that when she was first purchased she was called Little Kitty. She was bought here as a baby from the Campbells at Nutfield. I got her cheap because she was not expected to live. Guy Campbell thought himself very sharp to have sold me such a rum deal. Little Kitty. And now look at her,’ he laughed. ‘Let me assure you, Caroline, that your brother is the best planter in the whole of the Caribbean.’
As Caroline stood listening to her brother blowing upon a horn that was surely his own, July, stepping to stand by her side, placed her young hand within this white woman’s palm. On feeling this touch from a negro Caroline snatched her hand away. But then, looking down, she saw July’s sweet face turned up to her; her eyes wide and watery. Caroline, relenting, squeezed July’s little fingers. Kitty began to shift her eye from her massa’s feet, where they had rested through this whole encounter, on to her child. She watched as July held up the dainty posy of flowers to the white woman as she had before held them up to her mama.
‘You see,’ John Howarth carried on, ‘It was a gamble. It’s not like with a dog—they aren’t born with big paws that can give an indication as to their eventual size. So, in truth, I was not only astute, but lucky too. It’s a good thing Guy Campbell is back in Perthshire because if he saw her now he’d have to chew on his own hat.’
Kitty took a step so she might wrest July’s hand away from Caroline. But John Howarth shouted on her, ‘Stay!’ Then, flicking his hand at her, he said, ‘Show your mistress your legs.’
Kitty did not move.
‘Lift up your skirt and show her your legs.’ When Kitty still did not take heed of his command he huffed, ‘Oh, good God,’ before grabbing the worn cloth of Kitty’s skirt and raising it almost to her waist. Kitty turned her head to one side as John Howarth beckoned his sister. He commenced rubbing his hand up and down Kitty’s leg saying, ‘Come and feel the muscles.’
Caroline gaped once more, for Kitty’s legs were so dark and stout, like the trunk of a tree they looked to have grown through the solid earth.
‘Come on, Caroline, I have her, she won’t bite. Come and feel their strength.’ Caroline, with July still holding her, stepped forward to run skittering fingers along Kitty’s calf. But