Chapter One
The season of remembrance has come again. On the sixth day of the seventh month in the year 1862, the most radiant jewel of the Caribbean stepped boldly into its own light. On that historic day, the island long called the Land of Wood and Water claimed its sovereignty from Great Britain and embraced a new chapter as the proud nation of Jamaica.
It is now the year 1935 and reign over the isle was given to the nation’s seven most powerful families. They were marked by wisdom and wealth. However, of those seven families only one held roots in the land, and that’s The Thomas Family. Sir Erol Thomas, a noble man of the royal guard and his wife Katherine of Port Royal had five kids before the end of his life.
Andre, the eldest of his kids was much like his father, he was a charmer, a darling dear and a gentleman. Brandon the second born was the complete opposite, I believe the word they used to describe him was a rake, a noble man who slept with the help, the whore and the young ladies.
The third child and the first born daughter, Camille was as beautiful as her mother, she had thick curly natural hair that framed her face and had deep brown eyes. The two last born were twins. Danika and Ethan, they were just fifteen and not yet ready for society.
However Camille was at the ripe age of seventeen and was ready to be married off by her mother and older brother. All siblings except for her were all gathered in the entry way preparing for the first ball of the season.
“Andre” mama Thomas called out. “It is your duty tonight to keep an eye on your sister. At no time should she be left alone with a suitor. Can’t have her be claimed by a rake.”
“Yes, mama, I understand.” He said
She gave him a kiss on the forehead. “You look just like your father.” She turned away, “Where is Camille?” She asked.
“Right here, mama” she responded, as she walked down the stairs with confidence wrapped around her tighter than any dress she has ever worn. Every step she took was steady and unhurried. Her hips swayed not like the other noble women, but like the quiet rhythm of a woman who knew herself. Her skin caught the light and glowed like the morning sun slipping through lace curtains. She didn’t rush for attention; all the attention simply followed her.
“My beautiful daughter, you look so wonderful.” Her mother greeted grabbing her by the arm. “I wish your father could see you and how beautiful you have become. He would be so proud.”
“You really think so?” Camille asked
“I believe so,” her mother reassured, rushing the others out the house to go and wait for the carriages. “It is the first ball of the season, my child and by the end of the season you shall be married.” She paused, “how are you feeling?”
“I feel… scared.” She paused, “what if no one wants to dance with me.”
Her mother laughed. “Ridiculous, you are a Thomas. You will have at least fifty suitors at the end of tonight and a hundred by the end of the week.”
They had now arrived at the grand ball hosted by the Governor-General of Jamaica at King’s House. Many shoes clicked against polished floors. The scent of perfume and pressed linen drifted through the corridors as each family entered the venue. Her brothers moved with forced calm, though excitement betrayed them in quick smiles and restless hands.
It was Andre’s intention to grab a drink from the bar, but he was quickly reminded by his mother tht he shall be his sister’s chaperone for the night. “Why must I do it mama?”
“Because you are twenty six years old and it is your duty as the man of the house.” She gave him the stare.
“But, mother, I am still young and I wish to enjoy myself.” Andre complained.
“By enjoying yourself, do you mean flirting with the other young ladies and never asking their hand in marriage?” she questioned. “Remove her from my hand and take her to meet the governor-general and help her to fill her dance card.” She instead.
“Very well then.”
The chandelier inside the King’s House shimmered like captured starlight, casting gold across the polished marble floors. The orchestra played something soft and dignified, the visions floated through the air like silk. Andre leaned slightly towards his sister, offering his arm. “Ready?” He asked, low and steady.
Camille did not answer at first, instead she fixed her posture; pushing her shoulders back and lifting her chin. She wasn’t intimidated by the room filled with titled men and jewelled women who were pretending not to stare. “Always,” she replied.
They moved together through the crowd engaging in soft conversation with other noble families. Camille allowed a few young men to inscribe their name on her dance card. By the end of the night it was time to greet the Governor General. Andre walked with controlled authority, a sort of diplomatic air, by his side Camille walked like royalty.
At the far end of the hall stood the Governor-General, flanked by his wife and children. The Governor-General wore a tailored black suit adorned with his official insignia, his posture practiced and ceremonials. His wife carried herself with quiet grace and her gloved hands crossed lightly before her. An aide announced them.
“Mr. Andre Thomas and Miss Camille Thomas.”
Andre gave a respectful nod. “Your Excellency.”
Camille followed with a graceful curtsy, it was not exaggerated, nor was it submissive. It was perfectly balanced between tradition and pride.
The Governor-General smiled warmly. “Mr. Thomas, it is a pleasure and this must be your sister.”
“Yes, sir,” Andre replied. “Camille.”
The Governor-General’s wife stepped forward first, extending her hand to Camille. “You look radiant this evening, my dear.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Camille answered, her voice smooth and composed. “It is an honor to be here.”
One of the Governor-General’s sons, close to Andre’s age, watched Camille with undisguised admiration. His sister, elegant and observant, offered Camille a polite smile that hinted at curiosity.
Andre noticed everything, the glances, the calculations, the subtle shift in energy. This here was a potential union.
“We’ve heard much about your family,” the Governor-General continued. “Your father spoke boldly about the future of this country.”
Andre met his gaze without flinching. “He believed in service, sir. A trait he passed to his children.”
“And confidence,” the Governor-General added, eyes briefly resting on Camille. “A rare and necessary quality.”
Camille held his look respectfully. “Confidence is easier when one knows who they are, Your Excellency.”
A flicker of approval crossed the older man’s face. For a moment, it wasn’t just a formal introduction. It was recognition, legacy acknowledging legacy and power observing potential. The orchestra swelled louder, and attendants approached with champagne.
Andre subtly offered his arm to Camille again. “Shall we?” he murmured. She took it.
As they stepped back into the heart of the ballroom, whispers followed them, not scandalous whispers, but intrigued Thoughts. The Thomas had not come merely to be seen; They had come to be remembered.
