I finally updated. =D

So, this had to be addressed. By no means is Kit a perfect character. In fact, this chapter might be a bit dark. But don't worry, Kit always surprises us.

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...::Lessons of a child::...

There was a time in young Katherine Eaton's life when she was Katherine Tyler, a girl who was proud and naive. She lived a privileged life filled with love and pretty gowns. Her grandfather taught her to read novels and plays, how to swim and how to live with passion. But he was taken from her life before he could teach her anything more. Her life in the colonies had taken his place as teacher, instilling memories and lessons she would never forget. As she became a wife, there were many more things she would learn. For though she had always wished others happiness, her childhood spent on a plantation in the islands gave her a blindness she was soon forced to acknowledge. No longer could she flit away any unsavory thoughts of the things she would see. It happened on a cool, autumn day in Hartford that Kit found what truly lay in her heart about certain matters. Indeed, it took her own small child to teach her this lesson.

Nat had taken them for a trip to Hartford for the season, for he had a cousin who invited them for a wedding and Kit thrilled at the prospect of getting away for a bit. So as Nat settled their belongings in his cousin's sizable home, Kit had taken little Francis in town to purchase some fabric for a new winter wardrobe. The fabric was wrapped and bundled under Kit's arm as she held the hand of her son. The cool breeze had almost blown her small cap from her hair but Francis loved the weather. The leaves were starting to turn brown and Kit had wished to be able to show him Blackbird Pond.

The memory of Hannah's cottage and the cat that she had loved so much came flooding back to her and she inwardly sighed at the recollections. As they crossed the cobblestone street, Kit noticed a large carriage stopped by the side of the walkway. Such a sight was not rare in Hartford but it did attract attention. Kit was soon distracted by her son's small voice.

"That lady is so pretty, Mama." The little boy tugging on Kit's skirts whispered. His wide blue eyes were as bright as the water of her childhood home.

Kit smiled at her son, turning to find the object of her son's gaze. Somewhat behind the carriage stood two women and a footman, conversing rather loudly than Kit thought appropriate. She was slightly taken aback when her eyes fell upon the younger woman who stood quietly behind the other. The older woman was dressed in fine silk and ordering about the footman with her brows raised imperiously. Kit couldn't help but shake her head at the poor footman's exasperating mistress.

But Francis had not been gazing at those two figures. Indeed, his small face was turned towards the young woman with the plain brown dress and bonnet. She appeared no older than Kit, but she held herself with a certain maturity. Her skin was not the fair snowy complexion of Judith nor did it contain the rosiness of Mercy's. Instead she had the burnished copper skin of someone who did not have full European heritage. Her bonnet was perched atop waves of midnight black that appeared to have been torturously pinned down and her large, sloping eyes were downcast as her companion continued to order about the footman to pile her purchases atop the carriage. In fact, Kit realized with no surprise that this young woman was a slave.

And her little Francis had called her pretty.

"Oh do hurry, Sullivan." The woman dressed in fine silk sighed loudly. It seemed she was barely aware of the townspeople who sent glances her way. "We simply must be on my way to the estate."

Kit managed to keep her pace steady as Francis came to a stop beside her, smiling at the young slave woman who took no notice. This caused Kit to stop and tug at his arm gently. She whispered for him to keep up but by this time the wealthy woman had taken notice of them. Her cold face had somehow managed a rather warm smile as she glanced down at the little boy.

"Well, hello little one." Her voice had changed completely but Francis backed away shyly into his young mothers' skirts. The woman was not discouraged however, for she only laughed gently at the display. "Do not be frightened. What is your name, young sir?"

Kit managed a small smile at the woman, but her eyes darted to the slave behind her without heed. She quickly focused on the woman again. "His name is Francis and he's usually not so shy."

"Oh but such a handsome boy, this little Francis, that I daresay the girls will find it quite endearing."

The two women exchanged introductions and pleasantries, Kit having learned that the woman's family lived in the southern states. Her accent was peculiar but Kit was not familiar with all the differences in the colonists yet so she had not noticed much. The woman also reported that she had married a man from Hartford recently and so was still adjusting to her new surroundings. Kit replied that she had the same situation. When the woman learned Kit was from no other than Barbados she practically thrilled.

"Oh how exciting!" She had begun to completely ignore her ready carriage at the moment, her focus now on the young mother before her. "And how proper you are mannered, Mistress Eaton. I daresay that upon first glance I had thought you merely a Northern woman but I believe you are more than that, am I wrong in believing so?"

The woman was looking at Kit with such wide, hopeful eyes that Kit, although reluctant to answer finally did. "I was the grand-daughter of Lord Francis Tyler. We were by no means of any great importance, though we did own a rather large plantation."

It was odd, but the moment the words were out Kit felt suddenly guilty as she noticed the young woman in brown behind this strange Southern lady who was now a Northerner. She did not glance up, but her shoulders seemed to still for a moment and Kit looked away as the other woman beamed at her. For all her life on Barbados and even a part of it in America, Kit had prided herself on her family name and the wealth that went along with it. There had never been a second thought of the many slaves that worked their plantation nor of the slave girl Kit had once been fond of. In her mind they were nothing more than servants, for her Grandfather treated them as such. The moment Nat had condemned this notions aboard The Dolphin that one day on her voyage to a new life, she had been shocked and somewhat furious. How impertinent of him, she recalled thinking, to speak down to her so! As the days grew into months, Kit's life had taken her places she had never imagined of being. Her marriage to Nat had also changed her.

Nat hated slavery.

Kit knew as much when she married him and for a time contemplated about his opinions of her family and their tie to the practice. Nat had been raised to believe owning slaves was immoral and Kit had been raised without believing anything of it. Indeed, it was not spoken of in her household, though the many slaves that drifted about had always been in her sight. She could recall with clarity all those faces of the house slaves who served her. How silly she had been then to throw little care their way. Where they not also living, breathing people?

As the Southern woman began chatting away again, questions about Kit's life and how the islands were, Kit had begun to feel sick. Upon Kit's marriage, Nat had once given a few coins to a Negro man who was begging on the side of the road. Kit had thought nothing much of it, only that Nat was very kind. But when Nat questioned her on why she hadn't stopped along with him, Kit had become flustered. She replied that it hadn't occurred to her. The next few days Nat was silent and withdrawn and Kit was so fearful she visited with Nat's mother. The older Mistress Eaton had looked at Kit gravelly.

"Sometimes I forget Kit, that you were raised very differently from my own son." She had sighed then and Kit had tried to hide the tears back. "You are a warm, generous heart, child. What you did for Hannah proves your mind and heart are not limited to what others say is right. I believe you only require a little encouragement."

Kit had been confused slightly. She had blinked back her tears. "You think I was raised wrongly?"

"In many ways, yes." And Mistress Eaton had smiled warmly at Kit and reached for her hand. "Tell me, Katherine. Do you believe it was wrong of the people to despise Hannah for being a Quaker?"

At that Kit had immediately replied. "Of course!"

"Do you believe it is wrong for people to treat her as less than a human being?"

"It is."

Mistress Eaton had looked Kit in the eyes then, her voice soft. "Then how can it be right to do so to anyone who breathes and feels?"

The moment Kit felt little Francis tugging her arm, Kit resumed listening to the woman who stood before her, looking at her questioningly. The words of Nat's mother had troubled her greatly that day she went home. But in that moment Kit had realized with an odd sort of numbness that she had been horribly wrong for all her life. She had been carelessly cruel in her indifference to the wrong going on about her. No matter how she excused it or ignored it, her family had committed great evil by going along with society's views.

"Excuse me," Kit managed to the woman. "I am suddenly feeling ill, I must pardon myself."

The woman looked concerned. "Oh, of course. I am sorry to hear that. I pray you feel better soon."

With one last glance at the slave girl, who had suddenly looked up at Kit with solemn dark eyes, Kit rushed away, sqeuzzing her son's hand tightly. He looked up at his mother in great surprise but did not say anything. Indeed, it was not until Kit had reached the house in which they were staying that she paused. As they both stood at the doorway, Kit took a deep breath. It was a disturbing feeling to have all your beliefs crashing down upon you and to suddenly realize the dark places in your heart that others could see but were hidden away. No longer did young Katherine Tyler feel pride in her family name, instead there was a deep, empty hole in its place.

"Mama?"

Kit looked down at her son and realized with a start the tears that had begun to flow down her cheeks. She wiped them away furiously and bent down to hug her son. His little arms wrapped themselves around her neck and he whispered that everything would be okay. Kit's heart was set to bursting,

In a moment she pulled away and held her son to her, gazing at the miniature features that reminded her so much of Nat. When she looked closely however, she could find bits of herself in there. They were all the bits of her that she prayed were good and kind. He was a child and he would learn from his parents all that they would show him. Kit vowed that day, upon remembering the distant, hollow eyes of the slave girl in brown, that she would never let her son be blind to the errors of her own childhood.

"Francis, that girl we saw today, the pretty one? You were right that she was lovely."

Her son smiled shyly.

"I want you to remember to be kind to people, no matter what others say. If someone is not so pretty, or has dirty clothes or perhaps is treated badly, remember that none of it matters. Hannah told you that kindness is the true beauty of a person, did she not?"

Little Francis nodded, his eyes bright. "Yes mama! She said that no matter who you are, you have a heart and a brain and so you should use them. She gave me some cake then and let me pet the kitty." His big eyes turned down and he mumbled, "But I don't think it liked me very much."

Kit laughed through her drying tears and hugged her son close one last time before standing. Inside she was still hurt but not for herself any longer. She was aching at all those faces of her childhood, who washed her clothes and lay the dishes out for her meals. She could still recall the face of the girl who had been her companion and personal slave since the time they were walking together. How different it could have been, she thought, if I had realized it all sooner.

Perhaps in their hearts they could one day forgive her.

In her heart she knew it would be near impossible to forgive herself.

But there was one thing that was possible and the little hand in her own gave her heart a lift. Perhaps in her own, slight way she could ensure that there was still some goodness in the world, and that no longer would she contribute to stomping it out. For all those people who could not, Francis would help them.

His bright blue eyes would meet theirs with kindness and he would look at them and see them for who they were.

Kit would make sure of it.

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Thanks for all the reviews! Keep the ideas coming. I am using them I promise. =)