Charity & Phillips

Chapter 70

Phoebe returned to the chapel with the baby in her hand. She held the child protectively close to her bosom, hardly allowing Thomas to even see the little one. Thomas wished to see his son, but was patient in knowing the baptismal ceremony would soon begin. As he stood by the baptistery tub, he looked out into space while his mind wandered. He was so thankful to have his child, but something within him wished Phoebe did not birth the child.

He imagined what it would have been like for his child to be borne by the one he truly loved.

Charity yelled out from inside the bedroom. Thomas was very worried about his wife and true love giving birth to his babe. Mr. Taylor walked up to Thomas, interrupting his nervous pacing of the hallway.

"She will be fine." Edmund reassured Thomas. The boy whose hair was wet against his forehead had shaky breathing.

"She is only but so tall. I fear the child will not pass." Thomas admitted. Edmund walked closer to him, comforting the nervous man.

"The child will be borne and it will be filled with vitality and health." Edmund reassured. The doors to Charity's bedroom opened, Thomas quickly rushed inside.

Charity laid there, looking as beautiful as a rose. Her hair was fluffily framing her head, perfectly resting on the pillows around her. Her beautiful skin glowed next to the candle light, still wet from the activity. Charity smiled at Thomas, looking as healthy and happy as ever, further making it apparent it was all just a fantasy.

Thomas was given a small child, and it was more precious than anyone could have imagined. As it's hair dried, curls were revealed to be on its head. The baby yawned as it looked up unknowingly at its proud father, who loved his child no matter what race it was.

"Is it a boy?" Thomas asked the midwife while holding the coddled child.

"It's a girl." She announced to him. Thomas happily smiled down at his baby girl. No, it was not a boy that could continue his name. And it's gender would probably prevent it from ever being able to carry out the procedures of running the manor. But the baby was born from the love of his life, and that was the only thing Thomas needed.

Thomas could imagine he and Charity by the fire, sitting together while she held the child and he looked. He imagined the child getting a little older and teaching it how to ride a pony. Charity would sit in the grass while the stable boy helped Thomas guide the child. She'd cheer the baby on as they trotted around.

Or Thomas teaching the young girl how to fish when she would be old enough to hold the fishing rod. Yes, it wasn't common for women to have such a skill but Thomas knew his daughter would be unlike other women. Her sand-colored curls would sit in a halo around her head as she waited for a catch next to the stream.

And he imagined the girl becoming a young woman, growing into her full beauty. She'd be courted while Thomas himself would be suspicious of any boy who would take on that challenge. He could see the free black man, who was no stranger to luxury, as he arrived at the manor. Thomas would watch as he handed his daughter off for a night dancing. Charity would calm the worried father in reassuring to him everything would be okay.

When Thomas finally woke up from his thoughts and became aware of his surroundings, he realized he was already in his baby's baptism. He looked down at Walter with the utmost love and admiration. He watched as the anointed oils were being washed away from the child's head.

But something became clear to him.

As the priest washed over the child's head, the hair had a tinge of red to it. He wondered why his son's surely brown hair looked like that of chestnut. Almost every man and woman alike in Thomas' direct bloodline had dark hair. He wondered if the oils somehow made it seem as though the hair was red. But once the oil was fully washed away, the child still had red hair.

After the ceremony finished, Phoebe quickly tried to cover the child's head again. "It'll be far too cold to go outside with his head exposed."

Thomas swatted her hand away as he held the boy. He walked away from her, looking at the child's damp hair. The more that time passed, the more dry the hair became. The hairs on the child's head were surely red. Where would such hair come from? Thomas wondered if Phoebe had anyone in her own family with red hair. But everyone in her family either had brown or blonde.

In the coach, Thomas still held the child. When they exited the Church, he did not say a word to the Mistress. Phoebe knew that Thomas noticed the color of the child's hair, and didn't dare to break the silence. Thomas was furious as he looked down intently at the child. All of feelings of love and hope were now unclear. The two slaves who sat across from them quietly observed Mr. Phillips' shock. In their hearts, they were glad that the Mistress was seemingly going to pay for her actions.

They were burdened with the responsibility to hold the Mistress' secret. They hoped Mr. Phillips would find out, but he was too much of a fool to notice. The only thing they feared was Mr. Phillips finding out the father was Brian. They hoped Mr. Phillips would spare punishing the boy for being caught within the Mistress' web.

When they returned to the manor, Thomas still held the child. As they exited the coach, he did not stop to hold the door open for Phoebe. Instead, he began to walk inside of the house.

"Take that child from him. He must not go into the nursery." Phoebe whispered to the wet nurse. Daisy walked over to Mr. Phillips and held out her arms, but he did not even look up at her. He blatantly ignored her as he entered the house with the child anyhow. His face showed expressions of disgust and some fury. Mr. Phillips was always known to be a quiet and subdued man, such anger was unheard of from him.