I pay Mr. Thornton a visit

Dear Diary, (morning of 22nd)

I still cannot believe I had the nerve to follow through with my plan, but out of all the possible champions I could hope for in Havenhall, Mr. Thornton was the both the easiest to get to and the man who had the social standing to support me against a man like Miles Manton. Mr. Thornton might lack the physical prowess of Mr. Kyleson, but my overseer, as an Irishman, had only slightly higher standing in the eyes of the Charleston elite than a free-born negress like me. More to the point, I knew exactly where to find the young lawyer, and no clear notion of where either Mr. Kyleson or the negro stable boy Conrad slept at night.

It might be for naught, because since that brief encounter after the reading of the will where my true parentage was revealed, Mr. Thornton remained secluded in his rooms. I had learned over the years watching my mother interact with so many different lovers that it is easier to influence a man when laying together under the covers than while debating the same issue over a dinner table.

As I moved silently down the hall from my room to Mr. Thornton's chambers, I carefully adjusted my nightgown. Visiting a man like this in the middle of the night was a most improper decision for a young lady, but I was rapidly running out of choices. If I could convince Mr. Thornton to stay by my side, I'd have a chance to make my claim to Havenhall stand; without his protection, I might not even be able to escape back north with my freedom.

Please do not think too poorly of me for using what few advantages a woman of my time has to influence men. I know men find me attractive; Like my mother, I have used this in the past to gain small favors and concessions. I reasoned that I might use these same charms to influence the earnest gentleman, if I could find the right balance between damsel-in-distress and sexual siren.

Thankfully, the door to Mr. Thornton's room was not locked, and I was able to slide all the way into his chambers and settle myself down on the edge of the bed without awakening him. I don't know why I brought this diary with me for my illicit nocturnal visit. At the time I remember thinking that perhaps I could read to him some of what I had penned about him being my knight in white armor, and perhaps show him some of my sketches. In hindsight, I realize that this would have been a terrible mistake but remember that I was still quite rattled from my encounter with Mr. Manton.

It took Mr. Thornton a while to come awake, and at first, I believe he mistook me for a dream.

“I'm sorry Bianca, I should have been there to stop him.” His eyes closed tightly, and his jaw tightened noticeably. “I never would have let him touch you.” It was only a second later, when Mr. Thornton stretched his hand out and touched my thigh that he seemed to understand that I was not a somnolent chimera but actually perched on his bed. His hand jerked back like he had touched a steaming kettle.

“Miss DiFlorentini!” The poor man was clearly flustered by my sudden appearance on his bed. “You cannot be here, what would people think?” I was touched that in spite of his obvious discomfort at learning my true parentage that he seemed more concerned for my reputation than his own.

“I suspect the good people in Charleston will have plenty to say about me already, Sir.” I took his hand and held it tightly between mine, “I am not afraid to give them something else to gossip about, if you want me.”

At the time, I really did not know what Mr. Thornton would say. I knew in my heart that the young man found me attractive, but I was after all tainted in a way that made me most unsuitable for a gentleman of his station - except of course in his bed ...