July outside his marriage but within his firm affection? Could he not fulfil the promises he made before God to a wife and still treat tenderly the woman who had his heart? And who would know? Who would suspect? And if they did, might not they turn a blind eye upon a married man? Of course they would—he had known his father do it many times before. And there was such blindness upon this Caribbean island.
Besides, to marry Caroline Mortimer would be to help her further. Robert Goodwin’s firm conclusion had been that she would benefit greatly from the arrangement. His standing with the negroes upon the plantation would rise once he was no longer merely the overseer, but master of Amity. The simple negroes would surely do anything that was required of them if they were bid by him—their new, beloved massa.
Robert Goodwin had soon come to believe that it was not only his father, but God the Almighty, that compelled him to conceive this plan—for it was to the injury of no one, and the advantage of all. So his chest is puffed proud within the portrait—for his marriage now kept two women quite content with him and his father above pleased with his son’s turn of fortune. Indeed, the letter of congratulations he received from his father read:My dearest son, Robert,
How proud you have made me by your marriage. Your new wife, Caroline, is welcomed into our family with arms both open and embracing. We pray that one day we shall have the honour of receiving her into our home here in England as willingly as we have taken her into our affections. It spoke a great deal of your wife’s wisdom and contrition when you wrote how earnestly she desired that the negroes—whom she once considered as her property—were now treated as well as can be under her employ. I am sure that as the new master of the plantation called Amity, the injustice of that abominable state of slavery will become just a distant memory for the negroes in your charge. Once burdened like beasts, they will now be able to go happily and joyfully about their tasks under your compassionate guidance. My dear son, Robert, you are a credit to your family and the pride of my heart.
Your ever loving father.
Within the painting you will find the missus, Caroline Goodwin, seated upon a chair—the one that her second husband leans upon so casually. She is arranged at a decorous angle within the frame, one that shows off the slope of her shoulders and the intricate array of twisted braids and curls within her hair very well. Her hands, resting demurely on her lap emphasise the billowing folds of the full skirts of the wedding gown she wears, and also succeed in flaunting the fashionable tight cuffs of her bishop sleeves. Indeed, so attentive was the artist to render truthfully the detail of this gown, that the pink silk of the garment shimmers as if the actual cloth were pasted upon it.
However, not wishing to offend the woman who was paying him well to execute this portrait, Mr Francis Bear has allowed Caroline Goodwin to seem a little more slender than perhaps any who knew her would recall. For example, what appears to be a rat escaping from under her skirts in the picture is, in truth, the artist’s notion of the missus’s foot within her cream slipper, if the missus’s foot had been dainty.
The intention was that Caroline Goodwin would gaze from out this canvas upon the viewer with so attractive a smile, that all who saw it would contemplate with envy this perfect scene. But no teaching the artist had ever received made him skilled enough to make Caroline’s smile alight not only at her lips, but also within her eyes. No matter what pains Mr Bear took (and he took plenty—reworking her features for a full three days), her smile stayed resolutely only at her mouth. And, in consequence, all who ever viewed the picture were left puzzling as to how a woman that appears to be smiling so heartily can look so downcast.
Caroline Goodwin had been married for nearly a year and yet her new husband had only come to her once—no, twice—in all that time. Upon that second occasion he was so full of madeira that his organ was limp as the tongue of a thirsty dog. And Caroline had a secret wish (perhaps it was not too late for