a slave and slave owner are merely passing through Illinois, from one slave state to another.”
“I’m not forcing her to work here,” Martha said with conviction. “She came willingly. I expect she’s pleased, in fact, to have the opportunity to help ease Molly’s discomfort. Her soul is simple but kindhearted.”
“And besides,” I added, “they’re as good as passing through. It’s not as if Martha has moved here permanently with her.”
Lincoln looked unpersuaded. “I’m afraid you’ve exposed her and yourselves, for that matter, to substantial jeopardy by bringing her. Our laws on this issue are very exacting. Even free Negroes, you know, are required by our Black Code to register with the county clerk and post a substantial bond in order to legalize their residency.”
“I thank you for your advice, unsolicited though it was,” I said stiffly, facing the door rather than meeting Lincoln’s gaze, “but you may be sure we’ll take care of all appropriate formalities. We will ensure Phillis’s comfort and contentment, as we do for all our bondsmen.”
Martha and I linked arms, and on that strained note, we walked from Lincoln’s office.
CHAPTER 12
Sunset had come and gone and twilight had settled in. The brooding sky was a crepuscular purple. Still arm in arm, my sister and I walked toward the Pattersons’ house.
“I can see why you’ve found him a convivial friend,” Martha said after a few minutes of silence.
I nodded. “I know he was outspoken at the end,” I said, “but he meant nothing personal by it. Try not to hold his pique against him. It’s an issue he feels strongly about, even though he himself was Kentucky born. Not a few persons around here feel that way. I’ve found it best to ignore the subject altogether wherever possible.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Martha returned.
A moment later, she shrieked. A low shadow had suddenly materialized, darted across the street in front of us, and disappeared.
“You’ll have to get used to those, too,” I said, laughing. “It’s merely a feral hog. We’ve got a bunch of them roaming about. They’ve outwitted the control efforts of the town fathers at every turn.”
We soon arrived at the Patterson house. It was one of the largest in town, two wooden stories painted light brown with bright green shutters bracketing each of the windows. There was a stately brick walkway leading up to the crimson-colored front door, where a brass nameplate identified the master of the mansion.
The Pattersons’ hired girl ushered us into the rear parlor, and after several minutes, Jane Patterson entered. She greeted Martha like an old friend and curtsied toward me demurely. Jane was wearing a fashionable dress of light-blue muslin, with a full skirt reaching to the floor and close-fitting bodice flattering her well-rounded bosom. Her beauty was accentuated by a hint of red flush in her cheeks.
“You two know each other, I expect,” said Martha.
“Mostly from afar, I’m afraid,” I said. “It’s a pleasure to encounter you in person, Miss Patterson.”
Jane nodded while Martha said, “I beg you’ll excuse my brother’s poor manners, Miss Patterson, in not making your acquaintance earlier. I had hoped he’d have developed more social grace by now, but alas.” Martha sighed dramatically. I smiled indulgently at her.
After Martha and Jane had chattered on for some time, the hired girl appeared again to announce dinner. Jane led us into the dining room, which was dominated by a large chandelier with a dozen candles ablaze. Dr. Patterson was already there, wearing his surgical coat and seated in one of four chairs surrounding a solid, rectangular table. When we entered, he stood and shook my hand gravely, looking me over from top to toe. I introduced my sister, and he greeted her with elaborate formality.
Partway through a very tasty meal—the hired girl had just brought in a china platter heaped with a whole roast duck—Martha turned to Dr. Patterson and asked, “How long have you and your daughter made Springfield your home, sir?”
“It’s been almost four years now,” Patterson replied.
“Do you like it?” Martha asked. “My brother seems to, very much.”
“In that event, I concur with him,” the doctor returned as he chewed strenuously. “It’s a vital, growing town. The future state capital, as you’ve no doubt heard.”
“Why’d you move here?” Martha continued.
“It was a good time for a change. We’d lived near Decatur for a long time—all of Jane’s life, in fact. Her mother’s buried there.” He paused, as Jane nodded her head silently. “But I hoped there might be more demand for my services, as