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unobstructed view of the sinful place, she saw a sleek, well-dressed gentleman slap the rear of a passing gaudily painted female. Shrinking back inside the carriage immediately, she tried to digest what she had seen. A queasiness filled her stomach when she realized that many of the men seeing their pleasures down under were the blue-blooded gentlemen dwelling in the pillared mansions above.
    “I should never have brought you here,” Dawson said softly, looking down at her frightened face. “I’m sorry, honey,” he slowly raised his arm and brought it around her shoulders. She settled back against him, unable to speak for a while. Frightened, stunned, her teeth chattering slightly, she nestled closer to him in the security of his arm.
    She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him, “Dawson, are we in danger?”
    Dawson couldn’t help himself; he had to laugh at the absurd question, though her blue eyes were terrified. Then he remembered she was only an innocent young girl, barely sixteen years old. Pulling her closer, he covered the tiny fingers on his chest with his own brown hand. “Honey, do you think I would ever let anything in this world happen to you? You are as safe as a babe in her cradle, I assure you. I was raised down here, remember?”
    “Oh, Dawson, it must have been awful! How did you survive it?”
    Dawson shrugged his massive shoulders. “I knew nothing better then, it seemed only natural to me. Now I know there’s a cleaner, more beautiful way of life and I want to be a part of it, to belong.”
    “You belong,” she assured him, then grew silent for a moment. Peering up at his face, she said, “Dawson, can I ask you a question?”
    “Anything, pet.”
    “Have you ever, that is … did you … I mean …” She couldn’t finish.
    “What, honey?” Dawson’s voice was soft, “what do you want to know?”
    Kathleen moved her hands from under his and put them in her lap. Her face grew crimson as she whispered, “Have you ever been to one of those houses?”
    “One of what houses, Kathleen?” Dawson teased, making her squirm.
    In a flash, her haughty spirit returned and her childish curiosity overcame her embarrassment. “You know what I mean! I want to know if you have ever been to one of those … those loose women!” The blond head jerked up quickly to look at his face.
    The smile on Dawson’s face did not change at all and she could read no answer. He spoke, but he didn’t tell her what she was longing to know. “Kathleen, for a young lady of high birth and social standing unparalleled in all Natchez, do you really think it proper to be discussing such things? Your breeding warrants tact and it’s really terribly rude to ask such crass questions, don’t you think?” His throaty laughter made her want to bite her tongue off. She ducked her head, seething at him for laughing at her. He quit laughing and pulled her close again and her anger disappeared when she felt his lips on her ear and he whispered ever so softly, “I’m sorry, honey, don’t be angry.” She smiled again and looked at him. She still did not get the answer to her question.
    By the time the carriage reached the river wharf, Kathleen had forgotten the squalor and gaudiness of Silver Street and was eager to get on board Dawson’s boat. The carriage stopped on the pier at the water’s edge ad Dawson helped her up the gangplank. “Sam,” he shouted, and almost immediately a tall, powerfully built black man appeared on the hurricane deck above them. Bigger even than Dawson, Sam leaned over the railing and smiled. White teeth flashed as he responded to Dawson’s shouts, “Yes, Cap’n Dawson, right here, suh.”
    “Good, Sam, I have a young lady with me and she’s dying to take a look around.”
    Sam moved from the railing and came down the gangplank reaching for Kathleen’s hand, bowing grandly. Dawson said proudly, “Sam, this is Kathleen Diana Beauregard.”
    “Pleased to meet you, Miz