The inspiration behind
“Reincarnation” is based on the short story “Poker”, where I wrote “It seemed as if they had known each other a long time,
even so they just had met.” I wondered how Thomas and Sussanna could feel that
way. The rest is history.
The story was quite research
intensive, but it was fun to do so and to complete the research and the writing
took me weeks.
To my surprise St. John had been
a Danish colony until the island was sold to the United States in the 20th
century.
Helligt Kors and Louise Camellia
Plantations don’t exist in reality. The same is true about Durning Hall.
Part of the honeymoon is based on
my own travels.
The Grand Hotel Europa in
Innsbruck is real and opened its doors to guests in 1869. Visitors to the great
city can still stay there.
The folktale about the plantation
owner and his love is a creation of mine. The inspiration about the wings is
based on an African fable that human shoulder blades are the remnants of
wings and humans could fly in the past.
Acknowledgement
I’d like to thank PP, Mikaspice,
Mads Song and another person, who shared their own believe about reincarnation
with me.
Thanks also to Jocelyne Rodrigues
for helping me chose Santiago’s name and explaining how nobility titles work in
Spain.
Another thank you to LG and Mads
Song for the Danish translations and explanations of different meanings. If
there are mistakes it’s my fault, not theirs.
New Orleans, Louisiana, 2011
“You
have met before. Twice.” The fortune teller said. Sussanna and Thomas Aschari
had analytical minds and scoffed at the idea.
“Yes,
laugh at me, but I’m right!” The fortune teller was offended. The couple hadn’t
asked for any reading, so they smirked at the old gypsy and moved on.
St. John, US Virgin Islands,
2012
Sussanna
and Thomas had been trekking the island on vacation and encountered a beautiful
waterfall. They decided to go swimming. Instead of undressing Sussanna had
abruptly stopped and stared like hypnotized into the water.
Sussanna
had a flashback. She was only aware of the past.
Same island, 1751
Harald
Nielsen was in love. He stared in dismay at the back of Agnete, ignoring the
romantic scenery of the waterfall and pond in front of him. Her skin – black
like coffee – was crisscrossed with barely healed bloody welts, overlapping
with older scars. “I’ll kill him!” Harald’s eyes burned with passion and
hatred. “Don’t.” Agnete was soft spoken and calm. Markuu Malinen, the half
Finnish and half Swedish overseer of Louise Camellia Plantation, had punished
her, because she had avoided him and his sexual advances. Of course he didn’t
have to look for an excuse he could simply whip her. Agnete’s heart belonged to
Harald, who lived on the neighboring plantation Helligt Kors. His father was
the owner. If Harald would have had his will he would have treated the slaves
differently, but his father wouldn’t hear any of it. Christer Nielsen didn’t
care how the overseer treated his slaves or if they dropped dead like flies.
Harald was partly driven by common sense and partly by empathy. He thought
Blacks wanted a decent life like everybody else. If it wasn’t given to them
they would rebel, either passive by committing suicide or active by stealing,
sabotaging the work on the sugar plantations or by rising against their
masters. Something had to change or there would be a bloodbath sooner or later.
Harald
wished he had come prepared. His mother made a very good arnica ointment. It
helped healing wounds.
Now
Harald could only comfort Agnete. He had already tried numerous times to buy
and free Agnete, but his offers had been refused.
Same island, 13 months later
“Oh,
my god! Oh, my god!” Harald moaned. He fought hard with his tears, when he
found his lover unconscious in a ditch. Agnete was six months pregnant with his
child. Harald had heard rumors a slave had been raped by Markuu Malinen and
Rene Neuchs, the heir of Louise Camellia Plantation. They had their fun with
her and then discarded her like garbage. Since Harald knew Markuu wanted to
have Agnete he was worried about her. She didn’t come to the pond as agreed on
her only day off, so Harald feared it had been her. Finding her now with torn
clothing and visible signs she had been beaten up, confirmed his suspicions.
Harald was glad he had brought a horse and wagon. He picked Agnete up and
loaded her carefully onto the back. Harald tried to avoid potholes to cause as
few pain as possible to Agnete. He hid
her in the hunting cabin on the very fringes of Helligt Kors. Next Harald went
in search of his wet nurse Blid, whom he trusted completely. She was looking
after the slaves children, now that she was old and couldn’t fulfill her tasks
anymore. Blid was a healer as well.
To
the dismay of the overseer, Christoph Lindgren, Harald ordered another slave
from the fields to take over Blid’s chores. “I will talk with your father about
this!” Christoph threatened. “Go ahead and don’t forget you will have to work
with and for me years ahead.” Harald veiled his own blackmail barely, implying
that when he was inheriting Helligt Kors he might not keep Christoph as an
overseer. Christoph knew which battles to fight and backed down.
He
swore his revenge, though, and followed Harald and Blid in their cart.
Blid
was checking the injuries of Agnete. It didn’t look good. Agnete had lost the
baby and a lot of blood. Her eyes were swollen shut and her nose broken. She
had a high fever too. Blid told Harald she didn’t think Agnete’s survival
chances were high. It devastated Harald. “Do your best! Tell me what you need
and I’ll organize it.” Blid, who as her name indicated, had a soft personality,
was sorry for the girl and her master. “I will try, Mr. Harald.”
The
girl had a strong will to survive and pulled through. A week after her ordeal
Agnete was still very weak. Agnete slept badly and had nightmares. She was
grieving for her stillborn daughter. Harald was glad Agnete was recovering, but
saddened about the loss of their baby.
It
was hard for Harald to keep up a façade in front of his family. They wouldn’t
have understood him.
His
hatred for Markuu and Rene was blinding. He was plotting how he could murder
them and get away with it. He wasn’t the only one, who was making plans.
Christoph
had watched closely what was going on in the hunting cabin. When he found out
Agnete was going to survive, he decided to tip off Markuu about the
development.
Originally
Markuu thought Agnete was dead. He was obsessed with her and despised Harald.
The heir of Helligt Kors was responsible she didn’t reciprocate his feelings.
He was going to make them pay and he knew exactly how.
A few
days after the tipoff Markuu and Rene went to the cabin when they were sure
only Blid and Agnete were there.
Before
they came they drank rum for courage. They made short process of Blid, who
tried to protect Agnete, smashing a stone on the slave’s head, killing her
instantly. Agnete screamed. She was frightened and could guess what was going
to happen. She ran, but was too slow and weak. Rene snatched Agnete, brought
her back to the cot and held her down, allowing Markuu to go first. The
overseer needn’t be told twice. His breeches were pooling around his ankles
within seconds and his member was more than ready. He nudged his way between
Agnete’s thighs. Agnete’s mind was working furiously. Last time she had fought
them tooth and nail from the beginning. Maybe, just maybe, if she lay still she
could make them believe she had given up and Rene might loosen his grip. The
men laughed. Rene said: “Finally you have come to your senses!” It was hard
pretending to be meek. Agnete gritted her teeth when Markuu penetrated her. She
saw her chance. Rene was watching in fascination and didn’t concentrate on
holding her down. Agnete set her teeth into Rene’s arm, tasting blood. It was
his turn to scream. He let go. Markuu was too busy to notice something was
amiss. Agnete pushed him hard. He fell off her. His expression was priceless.
Agnete staggered to her feet and ran as fast as she could. She banged the door
shut and looked in desperation for something to block it, giving her time to
escape. Agnete saw a water barrel beside the entrance. It was full to the brim
and very heavy. She thought she wouldn’t be able to push it. Fear and anger
gave her the necessary strength. Exhausted Agnete slid to the ground. Suddenly
she heard someone approaching and Rene and Markuu smashing against the door.
They swore at her. Agnete thought it was only a question of time before it was
splintering and giving in. She was also worried who was arriving by horse. She
hoped it was Harald, because her bones felt leaden and she was unable to move.
Shock set in. Agnete was shaking and tears flowed down her cheeks. She didn’t
register that Rene and Markuu were getting closer to break free and the arrival
of Harald on his black horse Morgendug. He was kneeling in front of Agnete and
asked if everything was okay. She didn’t react. Harald picked Agnete up, as if
she was weighing nothing and sat her down in the shadow of a mango tree near
Morgendug. “I’ll be back in a moment.” Harald had realized he had no time to
lose. If Markuu and Rene escaped, they would make short order of him and
Agnete. Harald rummaged in his saddle bag, in which he always carried
necessities. In this case he dismissed the water bottle and the banana figs,
banana like fruits, but sweeter. “Ha!” He said triumphantly when he found the
steel and flint. He then collected dried leaves and scattered them in a thick
cover around the wooden cabin. Returning to the entrance he swore. His enemies
had nearly managed to break down the door. He wondered why they hadn’t
considered climbing through one of the windows. Harald prayed he could get the
fire started before they managed it. Finally after what felt like the twentieth
try and banging his knuckles at least six times, Harald could set the leaves
aflame. They went up like cinder and soon the whole cabin was surrounded by
fire. The first flames reached the shell of the cabin.
Harald
stepped back.
Markuu’s
and Rene’s whoops of encouragement and feeling they were going to be victorious
turned into anxiety and fear. They were begging for mercy and started to cough,
when the smoke reached them. Harald wished them a slow and painful death.
The
fire, now burning furiously, must have attracted more people. A dust cloud in
the distance announced them. It was better to get going. Harald coaxed Agnete
onto Morgendug and galloped away. He mapped out a route to Coral Bay, hoping
nobody was looking for them. If they found out a slave had escaped and her
overseer and master killed, they would hunt them.
Harald
hoped they would be able to catch a boat to Tortola, which was in British hands.
He would see how to proceed from there. It was now more important to escape.
Unfortunately
it seemed whoever had arrived at the cabin had copped on, was following them
and catching up quickly. Harald thought he heard the hunting dogs already
howling. They were more likely a fig of his imagination. Harald doubted there
had been enough time to organize a pack. He was unsure, though, and believed
there could be a few dogs on Agnete’s and his trail, which was not helpful. He
tried hard to widen the distance between them and their pursuers. It shrank
instead. Harald looked for a solution. They were close to a forest. Harald
aimed to shake them off there.
It
took them a while, but finally they lost them. Day turned into night. They had
to stop and settle down at the bank of a brook. It was too dangerous to move
and besides both, Harald and Agnete, were bone tired. Harald didn’t make a
fire. He didn’t want to draw attention to them. Harald slept fitfully, leaning
against a tree, Agnete in a close embrace. The next morning they shared the
banana figs. Harald went foraging as well, since the fruits weren’t enough and
returned with fresh mango and papaya. During breakfast Agnete and Harald
discussed how to proceed. They thought the harbors would be off limits for them.
Harald believed they were close to a plantation, which had access to Cinnamon
Bay. He planned to steal a boat there and attempt to reach Tortola. Agnete
agreed. She had other things to say too. “Harald, no matter how this ends, I
want to let you know I love you and I appreciate everything you have done for
me. Can you do me one favor, though, and stop calling me Agnete? My parents
named me Akosua Ataá…” Remembering her family and upbringing on the west coast
of Africa brought tears to her eyes. How her life had changed! Harald’s green
eyes showed concern and understanding. “Of course, love, anything you want.”
Calm and collected she continued: “I know we can be easily captured. I prefer
to be dead than at the mercy of those bastards! Before we go ahead with our
plan I’d like to collect Jumbie Beans.” Harald swallowed hard and run his
fingers through his dark blond hair. Jumbie Beans were highly poisonous,
leading to nausea, vomiting, convulsions and death. Even one could kill. It was
a gruesome way to die. “You shouldn’t…” Harald tried to convince Akosua Ataá
not to contemplate suicide. Akosua Ataá was clear eyed and soft spoken when she
interrupted him: “Harald, what do you think they will do to us if we get
caught?” She had time to think about it during her near sleepless night. Harald
shuddered, pushing the thought quickly away. His would probably be a relatively
quick and painless death, but there would be a lot more in store for her. He
conceded: “You are right, Akosua Ataá.” The name feeling strange on his tongue.
During
the day they headed towards the plantation. Reaching the outskirts of the
forest they found also the seeds of the Jumbie Beans.
They
kept hidden. Harald wished he had a telescope to stake out the plantation
better. They had to do with their eyesight.
Akosua Ataá spotted a small sailing dinghy. Their plan was to wait until
it was dark before trying to take it. Akosua Ataá dozed, while Harald felt
energetic and had problems keeping still. He went to gather more fruits and
some coconuts to have enough to drink on board for the journey. Having spent
his pent up energy Harald napped too until it was dark.
Harald
was nervous. He could sail, but was inexperienced. Akosua Ataá didn’t show any
emotions. She was calm. What would happen would happen. He
When
the moon had risen and it was blackened out by clouds they cautiously went to
the dinghy, releasing Morgendug beforehand. Harald helped Akosua Ataá into the
boat and pushed it into the sea. Suddenly moonlight was spilling over them and
revealed Akosua Ataá and Harald. A guard spotted them and sounded the alarm.
News had spread to the plantation that Harald and Akosua Ataá were fugitives.
Harald
jumped into the dinghy and raised the sail. The wind was on their side and the
boat picked up speed immediately. They were pursued in a larger boat by the
plantation owner and a few slaves. Harald tried his best to shake them off, but
the larger vessel was faster, so the distance grew shorter and shorter… Harald
was beginning to worry. Then the wind picked up and clouds darkened the sky
again. Harald hoped to escape in the darkness. They were lucky. The ship had
vanished when the moon was visible again. Their fortune was running out,
though. A storm was approaching with ferociousness, rain and higher and higher
rising waves. Harald wasn’t quick enough to get the sail in. The mast broke,
nearly toppling onto Akosua Ataá. They were rudderless. Harald hung his head
low. He knew it was over. Akosua Ataá realized it too, but she was proud of
Harald and how far they had gotten. Since the wind was ear deafening and
anything she would have said would have been lost, Akosua Ataá crawled towards
Harald, smiled at him and touched his leg. They hugged each other until the
next big wave…
Same island, 2012
Sussanna
slowly returned to the present. Thomas was concerned, because she hadn’t
reacted to him at all. Sussanna was shaken. “It’s strange. I think I had too
much sun…” “Why?” Sussanna told him about her previous life. She could
“remember” she had lived around 250 years earlier, had been a white male and
called Harald. Thomas had been a female slave and they had been in love. They
tried to flee together, so that Thomas could gain his freedom, but it went awry
and they drowned. “It was so real! But it can’t be!” Sussanna exclaimed. She
didn’t believe in reincarnation, since she was Roman Catholic. Instead of
reincarnating she believed she would probably end up first in purgatory before
going to heaven and being reunited with her loved ones. Thomas was an agnostic.
He explained Sussanna’s experience in a scientific way. “You might have seen a
photograph or other images of this place and maybe your synapses made a
connection to a film or so… Sussanna shrugged. It was difficult to come up with
a reasonable explanation for what had just happened. Maybe Thomas was right.
The
matter was not further discussed until two years later.
England 2014
Thomas
took Sussanna on a business trip. His new American client had bought a Georgian
Estate in the countryside of England and invited Thomas and his wife. He wanted
to know them better to decide, if he could do business with Thomas or not.
Depending how the trip went negotiations could start even at the estate after a
few days.
Sussanna
and Thomas arrived at London Heathrow Airport and spent first a few days in
London, before renting a car to go to Oxfordshire, where Durning Hall was
located.
Thomas
was driving and thought he recognized the landscape. He hadn’t been to that
part of the country before. He put it down to having seen it on TV.
It
was eerie. Thomas could find his way to the estate without needing a map. In
his mind he saw a clear picture what the driveway, the gardens and the
Neo-Classical building looked like. Again he hadn’t informed himself previously
and no idea where those thoughts came from.
It
was even stranger when they stopped in front of Durning Hall. Thomas felt as if
he was arriving home and his butler Mr. Murray was already expecting him. Where
the hell did that name come from?! The person greeting them wasn’t called
Murray. “Good afternoon, Madam, Sir. I am Brock Lindsay, the butler. Welcome to
Durning Hall. Please come inside.” Mr. Lindsay took their luggage and brought
them into the hall. Sussanna admired the staircase. It was magnificent. Mr. Lindsay
said: “Mr. Taylor has chosen the Green Room for you. I hope you will like it.”
“Isn’t it on the second floor, the third door on the left, when going up the
stairs and it overlooks the French Garden?” The butler frowned at Thomas’
question. “Yes, Mr. Aschari, you are absolutely right. How do you know? I have
worked for the previous owners before and don’t remember you ever stayed with
us…” “No, I haven’t. It’s my first visit.” “Ah, so you are a history buff or is
it the architecture you are interested in?” “Ahem, architecture.” Thomas
replied. He was lying, since he could hardly say he wasn’t interested in
either. It would have been difficult to explain how he knew where the Green
Room was located. In fact he was able to map out the house easily. To the left of the entrance was the Waiting
Room. To the right was the Drawing Room. The library was just a few doors down,
followed by the dining and music rooms. The kitchen, which was Mrs. Levy’s
domain, was just at the other end. Thomas thought he was getting mad.
“Well,
I’m sure you will enjoy your stay. I must say the aesthetic of the building and
interior are pleasing. Mrs. Taylor should be able to tell you all there is to
know about Durning Hall. She has a big interest in design and architectural
styles.” “Thank you.” Sussanna replied warmly. Thomas was too confused to
answer.
The
butler accompanied them to their room. It was one of the best in the house. As
the name implied the decoration was kept in green. It was good sized and included a four poster
bed. “How romantic!” Sussanna gushed. She loved those beds. Mr. Lindsay was
glad it was to the guest’s liking. He guessed Mr. Aschari was his age, give or
take a few years. The butler was 63 and had served in this position for
nineteen years. Mrs. Aschari was around thirty years younger and Hispanic.
Since the majority of Latinos living in the United States were Mexican Mr.
Lindsay thought Mrs. Aschari’s ancestors maybe originated from there. He
wondered if Sussanna was Mr. Aschari’s first wife.
Of
course he didn’t ask any impertinent questions. Instead he offered to unpack
for the couple. Thomas had enough recovered by now, thanked the butler, but
refused politely. “Very well, Sir. I leave you to refresh yourself. Afternoon
tea will be served in the Drawing Room in an hour. Shall I pick you up then?”
“Thank you. I’m sure we will find our way.” Sussanna reassured Mr. Lindsay. She
remembered its location. She couldn’t wait until Mr. Lindsay left them alone.
She knew something was wrong with Thomas. As soon as the butler closed the
door, Sussanna asked what was going on. “It’s really spooky. I know where every
room is located and how to get here without looking once on the map.” “Hm,
strange. Have you maybe seen a documentary or something like it on TV?” Thomas
shook his head. “No.” “Okay.” Thomas was normally very collected, so it was
worrying to see him so distraught. Sussanna paused. “Don’t you think you have
been living here? Maybe not in this life…” Thomas’ grey eyes darkened. He
didn’t want to hear about it, nor did he consider it to be the truth. “There
must be a rational explanation for this.” Sussanna replied: “There isn’t a
rational explanation for love and we still know it exists.” Thomas grunted. He
couldn’t refute her argument. “I don’t know…” “Well, whatever the reason for
your great orientation here, I guess we should get going. We don’t want to let
your clients wait.” They split the tasks up and were ready in time to join Chip
and Georgia Taylor for tea.
The
Drawing Room was airy with a high ceiling. The furniture was kept classical and
the color scheme included different shades of red and blue. It was tastefully
decorated.
Georgia
Taylor was much younger and taller than her husband. She had green eyes and
ginger colored, wavy long hair. Chip was bald and had clear and intelligent
brown eyes. Sussanna guessed Chip was in his eighties, while his wife was
slightly older than herself.
Chip
studied his potential new business partner and wife. They made a harmonious
impression. Thomas was fairly tall, grey haired and had grey eyes. His wife was
about Chip’s height, had olive skin, black hair and to his surprise also grey
eyes. Chip introduced himself and Georgia. The couples exchanged some
pleasantries before settling at the Irish linen covered table. Hot water and a
three tiered stand, filled with goodies, were already waiting. “We didn’t know
what tea you like, so we have a small selection ready for you.” Georgia said.
On a side table a wooden box was holding different types of Novus tea. Having similar tastes Thomas and Sussanna
chose an Oolong, while Georgia had an Earl Grey and Chip a chamomile tea. He
was health conscious and avoided caffeine. Chip liked that he and Thomas had
young, attractive wives. Georgia was his sixth. He believed Georgia kept him
mentally fit and up to date, what younger people liked. She was also the
perfect hostess and invited the Aschari’s to start the meal.
Georgia
and her chef had planned the afternoon tea. There were finger sandwiches with
different fillings, including ham and mustard, cucumber, egg mayonnaise with
watercress, smoked salmon and cream cheese and chicken, an assortment of
scones, clotted cream jams, cakes and pastries.
Sussanna
and Thomas were very complimentary about the presentation and taste of the afternoon
tea. “Ms. Levy is very accomplished. She’s only thirty one. Must have it from
her ancestors, who were always cooks of the estate…” Chip stopped talking
abruptly, when Thomas spewed the sandwich out he was eating. “I’m so sorry….”
He apologized when he had recovered. He had reacted strongly to the name.
Sussanna gave Thomas a concerned glance. He seemed to be okay. Thomas asked
Georgia: “I have heard you are very interested in the history of Durning Hall.
Has a butler with the name Murray ever worked here?” Georgia looked flattered,
passionate and puzzled at the same time. “It’s true. I really love Durning
Hall. Unfortunately I don’t know if there was ever a Mr. Murray employed here,
but I’m sure I can find it in our archive. In fact I will look it up.” “When
was the house built?” Sussanna asked. “It was finished in 1791 and held by the
family of the Duke of Robertson for a long time. Durning Hall was given as a
wedding gift to the Duke’s daughter Lady Beatrice Henrietta Godwin in 1870.
It’s quite a romantic story…”
Thomas
didn’t need to be told he could suddenly recall fragments of his previous life.
London 1869/1870
Lady
Beatrice Henrietta Godwin sulked. She didn’t want to go to the ball. Hettie, as
she was nicknamed, disliked dancing and keeping to the strict etiquette. She
preferred riding and playing cards. Behaving demure was difficult. Of course it
was expected of her. It was an insult to her intellect. She had of course
learned how to keep house and been to finishing school, but she had also been
educated in Greek, Latin, French, Italian and algebra together with her older
brothers. Hettie had an accomplice in her brother Joseph, who took books on her
behalf from the Duke’s library. Some of the titles were deemed unsuitable for a
young lady and Hettie had been forbidden to read them. Her parents thought it
could give her ideas, which would make her manly and less attractive to
suitors.
Since
Hettie was a debutante she didn’t have a choice if she wanted to go to the ball
or not. Boyd and Sara Godwin eyed the future 6th Duke of Spivey or
the Earl of Clarence as husband for Hettie. They believed both were suitable
matches.
Marriage
to either of them would cement the standing in society and increase the wealth
and power of both families.
Santiago
de Enriquez was on a trade mission on behalf of the Regent of Spain. He had
been chosen, because he was a good negotiator, calm and diplomatic and could
pick up languages easily. He spoke fluent French, English, Portuguese and
Hindi. He also had a smattering of Urdu and Indonesian.
Santiago
had to go to a ball, his English partner had invited him to, if he wanted to
seal the deal.
Hettie
was hot and thirsty. She had danced with all the gentlemen on her card. Now she
was fed up, annoyed and bored. Hettie noticed Lady Mortimer was approaching
her. Hettie glared at her, trying telepathy to send Lady Mortimer someplace
else. Her supernatural powers didn’t work. Plastering a faked smile on her
face, Hattie had a short chat with Lady Mortimer, who was famous for loving
nothing better than to gossip and start rumors.
Santiago was intrigued by a young lady in a magenta
colored dress. He passed by on the way to get a drink and he could have sworn
she had mumbled in Latin: “Perite!” The translation included the
F-word and that whoever had offended her should go away. Santiago smiled. The
lady’s behaviour was unusual. Santiago liked unconventional persons. He thought
the debutante was attractive. She had porcelain skin and black hair. Her skin
was a bit flushed. Santiago didn’t know if it was due to her being hot or
indignant. After getting his drink, he snatched Ezekiel Oswald, his business
partner. “Who is the lady in the red dress?” “Oh, you mean Lady Godwin, de
Enriquez?” Oswald told Santiago everything he knew about Hettie’s family. “Has
anyone made advances? Lady Godwin is a good catch…” “Not so far as I know.
There are candidates, of course.” “Of course.” Santiago was eight years older
than Hettie. Oswald pointed out the “competitors”. Some were much older than
Santiago, who was twenty four, others roughly his age.
Being fascinated, Santiago decided he would have to dance
with Lady Godwin. They hadn’t been introduced, so he couldn’t simply approach
her. Santiago asked for an introduction by Ezekiel, who had met Lady Godwin
before. Santiago wasn’t surprised Ezekiel was trying to haggle with him about
the business deal in return for his help. Most were only trivial matters, so
Santiago agreed to some of them and asked others to be deferred until they met
in private for further negotiations. Oswald was happy with that and kept to his
part of the bargain.
Hettie had been quite happy to be left alone. She didn’t
like Ezekiel Oswald, the 5th Baron of Brooke, and hoped he didn’t
want to dance with her. In her opinion he was a fop. “Dearest, Lady Godwin, may
I introduce you to Santiago de Enriquez, the Marqués de Santander? Marqués de Santander,
this is Lady Godwin.” They exchanged a few pleasantries before Santiago asked
for a dance. Since Hettie liked the Spanish aristocrat she had no problems. He
seemed different – warm and genuinely interested in other people. At first the
spoke only about general themes like the weather. Then it changed to
literature. Normally Hettie kept quiet about what she liked to read. Some of
her contemporaries believed reading was nothing for well-bred ladies, because
it was too difficult for them to understand the theme or they got too
emotional. When asked what her favorite book was Hettie answered honestly, that
she had a few of them, including “Our Mutual Friend” by Charles Dickens and
“Uncle Tom’s Cabin” by Harriet Beecher Stowe. Hettie was surprised by her own
honesty. She blushed and only hoped Santiago de Enriquez didn’t assume she was
too forward. Studying his face was fascinating. He had olive skin and dark
brown eyes. His nose had been broken at some stage and gave him a bit of a
roguish look. They began discussing “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” and the characters.
They agreed Simon Legree was abominable. They both liked George Shelby and Eva.
Before
the dance finished Hettie learned Santiago had spent considerable time abroad
in India and Indonesia. She loved talking with the Marqués and was sad they had
to stop. She wanted to know more about the trip. Hettie was tempted to ask
Santiago to dance with her again. She bit hard on her lower lip. It would have
been unseemly.
Santiago
brought Hettie back to her seat. He was gentlemanly and helped her sit down,
which was a bit difficult due to the fashionable dress and crinole Hettie wore.
“Would you like a refreshment?” Hettie shook her head.
Santiago
thought Hettie was an interesting person and wanted to know her better. For the
moment he retreated to keep up appearances.
Over
the next months the Marqués accepted invitations to balls, dinners and
breakfasts in the hope of meeting Lady Godwin again. He was jealous of the
other men, who talked or danced with Hettie. Once during dinner they were
partnered up. They forgot completely there were others and discussed inappropriate
things, like politics and women’s rights. Their table companions frowned upon
this and it came to the ears of the Duke and Duchess of Robertson. They were
very unhappy and had a serious talk with their daughter in private. “Don’t be
so forthcoming, Beatrice Henrietta!” Her mother scolded. “You should know
better how to behave and this has to stop! Darnell, the future Duke of Spivey
and the Earl of Clarence have already withdrawn their interest in you. I’m so
ashamed! It seems such a waste of money on the finishing school. Did you learn
anything there?” Hettie’s father blasted. Hettie kept her temper in check. She
said just the right things and was glad to have escaped with a tongue lashing.
She had feared her parents were going to forbid her any contact with the Marqués.
If she was honest she was falling in love with him. Was he feeling the same?
Santiago
reciprocated her feelings and was considering to propose. In fact he made up
his mind and was going to ask for an appointment with Hettie’s father. He invited Ezekiel Oswald, a few other
friends, the Duke of Robertson and their families to a small dinner party.
Santiago planned to make an appointment with the Duke to discuss his proposal
when the dinner was finished and they had withdrawn with cigars and sherry. He
saw a few difficulties in the Duke agreeing to give his permission. Santiago
hoped it didn’t matter that the Robertson’s were Anglican and he Roman Catholic
or that he was a foreigner. Santiago was aware there were rumors about him going
around being a spy for the Spanish court, which wasn’t true. Of course the Duke
could always use those as reasons to refuse.
Another
ground of refusal was Hettie being taken far away from her family, should
Santiago decide to move to Spain or some of his far flung and exotic estates in
South America and Asia.
What
spoke for the marriage was his wealth, the same high standing as a Marqués and
his business and royal household connections.
He
hoped nobody else was going to ask Boyd Godwin for the hand of his daughter.
Santiago
was nervous. It was time to go down for the party. If his guests expected a
traditional British dinner they were in for a surprise.
Hettie
had been fascinated about Santiago’s travels to India and had a hard time
believing his experiences were real, like his visit to Varanasi or that some
Indians were vegetarians. They had discussed Hinduism and Islam. For Hettie
those religions were alien. She didn’t dismiss them, though. In her opinion
everyone could believe what they wanted as long as they weren’t fanatics or
tried to convert others.
Hettie
was especially interested in the food. Santiago had spent most of his time in
South India, which was a Portuguese colony, so he knew this cuisine especially
well and had even brought chefs with him to London, because he had gotten so
used to Indian cuisine, he couldn’t do without it.
Hettie
had mused what a traditional meal looked and tasted like. The idea was to give
Hettie the chance to try curries, even if they weren’t going to be allowed to marry.
One of his favorite
dishes was Meen porichathu, a shallow fried sardine masala and of course it was
on the menu beside pork vindaloo, chicken korma, chicken pepper fry, mixed
vegetable and a spinach and yogurt curry, black-eyed beans with spinach and
tomato and red rice. The dishes had different levels of spiciness. Some were
creamy, others were fragrant.
The
dinner was a hit and Hettie was especially delighted.
Arranging
an appointment with the Duke didn’t proof difficult.
The
Duke of Robertson took the proposal serious and promised to have a think about
it. “I’m coming back to you when I have made my decision.”
Boyd
Godwin discussed the proposal with his wife, who was dead against it. She
feared the Godwin’s would be caught up if the Marqués de Santander was going to
fall due to him being a spy or that he would take her daughter away to Spain
and they wouldn’t see each other for a long time or maybe never. She also
believed the Marqués brought out the most unladylike behavior in her daughter
and that was very bad in her opinion.
Boyd
didn’t mind. He was sure he was influential enough to weather any storm.
Separation wasn’t an issue for him either. He and his daughter were very
different and he believed she was too headstrong for a woman. Boyd wondered
where she had it from.
Hettie’s
wishes or if the couple would fit together played no role in Boyd’s equation.
The Marqués was in regards to wealth the most suitable candidate after the
preferred suitors didn’t ask for the hand of Hettie, and even if the alliance
wouldn’t bring a lot of benefits, there was always access to the best sherry
and cigars.
He
asked his sons for advice too. One had his doubts, but the other two thought it
would be a good match.
Joseph
had heard more than enough of how great Santiago was from Hettie and knew his
sister would be very happy to marry the Marqués. He put his own feelings of
abandonment and loss aside and supported the proposal.
Having
thought it through Boyd accepted the proposal, no matter how much Boyd junior
and Sara were against it.
Of
course a dowry had to be agreed upon. Santiago had only one wish, a country
estate for him and Hettie to withdraw to. When he heard that his proposal had
been accepted he went actively looking for a town house in London. Santiago cared
about Hettie’s wellbeing and knew being near her brother Joseph was important
to her, so he planned to spend the majority of their time in England. Money
didn’t matter. Santiago had more than enough. Of course he didn’t let that on.
Boyd had set up a fund for Hettie, which provided her with 5000 GBP a year.
Throwing in a house in the country hadn’t been on his agenda. It was
non-negotiable for Santiago. Boyd had the chance to encounter the Marqués’
ability to stay calm and friendly, but still get his will. In the end Boyd
handed over Durning Hall, which his father had built in Oxfordshire. It was his
least favourite property, so nothing was lost in the sense. On the other side
Hettie had always enjoyed spending time at Durning Hall.
Hettie and Santiago were engaged for three months before finally
knotting the tie. During the waiting period they had chaperones watching over
them.
On the big day Hettie
followed in Queen Victoria’s footsteps, wearing a white dress for the Anglican
ceremony. While signing her name was quickly done, it took a bit longer for her
husband. She was impressed how many names he had. He had written down Santiago
Andrés Yaxha Agustin Yago Ulises Fernando Francisco Esteban Christopher Vicente
de Enriquez, 4th Marqués de Santander.
Afterwards their friends
and family were invited to late breakfast.
The newlyweds left the
following day for their honeymoon. Their destinations included Austria, Italy
and Spain.
Hettie fell in love with
Vienna, Venice and the North of Spain, where Santiago originated from.
Another highlight for her
was staying at the brand new Grand Hotel Europa in Innsbruck.
During the journey they
got to know each other better. Both had hoped that their attraction wasn’t just
a fluke. In the long term Hettie and Santiago were a perfect match. Their love
deepened and evolved over time, but they never regretted getting married.
England
2014
Thomas’s spontaneous
regression hadn’t allowed him to follow the conversation in the present, but it
seemed Georgia was telling them about the Marquesa supporting the suffragette
movement and the Marqués didn’t mind at all. It had been a bit scandalous at
the time.
Later Georgia showed them
the house and portraits of the Marqués and Marquesa de Santander. Georgia
hadn’t noticed until seeing Thomas standing in front of the painting how
similar he and the Marqués looked. Only the eyes were slightly differently
shaped and colored. Otherwise they looked the same. Georgia was wondering if
Thomas might be a descendant of the Marqués. Thomas didn’t think so.
Unfortunately he didn’t know very much about his own heritage since he had been
adopted when he was a baby.
Thomas was a bit in shock
and even if there was evidence he had a previous life he couldn’t wrap around
his mind around the idea of reincarnation.
Sussanna was more open
and didn’t dismiss it straight away, considering that she had had her own
regression a couple of years earlier. She was now curious and wanted to check
if she could confirm there had been a Mr. Murray and a Mrs. Levy working at
Durnhall and if she could find Harald and his love on St. John.
Chip thought Thomas was a
bit odd, but he liked weird people, so he decided to hear Thomas’s proposal
what computer programs were necessary to stay relevant now and in the future.
While they worked out the contract, Georgia and Sussanna searched the archive.
They looked into employment lists from the early 1840ies to 1944. They found a
William Murray the first time in 1855 until his retirement at the age of 80 in
1905. He was the butler. As Georgia had mentioned earlier the Levy’s had always
been the cooks of Durnhall. Mrs. Amanda Levy started as an assistant to the
cook until taking over from her father in 1888. She retired in 1917.
It convinced Sussanna
Thomas knew all this information, because he had been Santiago de Enriquez and
she his wife.
Searching for Harald and Akosua Ataá was more time
intensive. Originally Sussanna believed she wouldn’t be able to find out
anything.
The first indication they had existed came in
form of a folktale. It described the flight of a white plantation owner and his
love, a slave from Ghana. It ended with them being pursued during a storm.
While the plantation owner died at Cinnamon Bay, the slave grew wings and flew
home to Africa.
Sussanna managed to track down a specialist,
who was able to connect the story to a real case, confirming Harald Nielsen and
a slave called Agnete drowned in 1752 off the north coast of St. John while
trying to escape to Tortola. They had been accused of murdering the heir of
Louise Camellia Plantation and nearly managed to kill Agnete’s overseer, who
never was the same again after being rescued from a burning cabin. According to
him he and Rene had been locked in and the hut set on fire to burn them both
alive by Harald and Agnete.
It was a bit scary to
find out Sussanna didn’t have a vivid imagination. Since she had never heard of
the incident or the folktale before, Sussanna knew she was on to something.
Thomas stayed sceptical. He couldn’t come up with a rational explanation,
though, and due to his own experience and the strong emotions he had felt
during his regression and while at Durning Hall, he tended to agree with
Sussanna. There was a chance life didn’t finish after death.
©2016
