Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Read online

  “I’m saying accept life for what it is. Some things make no sense. I tried so many years to understand why things are and ain’t, things that can never be. Now, I just accept.”

  She looked so defeated!

  “A new driver been hired, making a hard life even extra hard. We all being watched over with a hawk’s eye. Now you must be going, sweet child. And don’t risk stealing out here no more. I don’t want you in trouble.”

  I had so many things I wanted to share with my mammy, things that were happening and changing in my life. I needed to know why I was going to bleed every month and why if a man now touched me, other than Daddy, an unholy baby would grow inside me. But Mammy insisted that I go. “Hurry on now, and keep away from the cabins, Miss Amelia. For your own good.”

  The night settled down, and I crawled into bed. What was there to look forward to, I wondered. Slowly my life was being torn apart. All the people I loved and cherished were being kept out of reach. And Daddy, the man who had always made time for me and wanted me to be happy, every minute of every day, was preoccupied with keeping only Eugenia happy. But only too soon Daddy would realize how much he would have to sacrifice to make that happen.

  ~ ~ ~

  ~ Eight ~

  School lessons were finished for the summer months, and Beatrice and Violet were traveling about Europe with some rich aunt I often heard them talking about.

  Auntie Camille was Eugenia’s deceased first husband’s only sister - an aristocrat from England, who had bloodlines connected to the English monarchy, according to Violet. “She is rich beyond belief,” she exclaimed when she heard that Mlle. Duval was taking them on a voyage back to England. “She lives in a grand castle and dines with the kings and queens of Europe. If she were ever to step foot on this plantation, she would be disgusted!”

  Beatrice and Violet nodded in unison. They had come to my room just before supper to boast. It came to be expected for the two of them to saunter into my room without being invited.

  “Is she as snooty as your mother?” I flared with my arms crossed over my bosom.

  “Well!” Violet retorted and stormed out with her twin sister only a step behind.

  The girls hated that fact that I didn’t get jealous of them. I was never envious of their elaborate, self-indulgent shopping trips into Savannah. I didn’t flinch when they described how much money they spent, or bat an eye to see them displaying all of their newly-acquired possessions, such as expensive jewelry and bottles of French perfume.

  The only time they got a rise out of me was when I noticed Violet wearing a very special cameo. It was my own mummy’s cameo!

  “Where did you get that?” I demanded to know.

  “Mummy gave it to me. She said it belongs to me,” she snapped, holding her hand over it so I wouldn’t rip it off the collar of her dress.

  “That belongs to me. Daddy told me he would give it to me on my next birthday!” I cried.

  “I don’t see how that is possible,” she said confidently, in her thick English accent. “Because your Daddy gave my mummy all of the jewelry he said belonged to Charlotte.”

  I ran out of the room and flew down the grand staircase to find Daddy. He was sitting in his small office looking through a pile of papers on his desk.

  “Amelia, don’t come bursting in as if the house is on fire,” he said in a huff.

  “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?” he replied with great impatience without looking up. Daddy now seemed frustrated more often than not, edgy and easily perturbed.

  “Did you allow Violet to have Mummy’s cameo and all her other jewelry, which you had always promised me!”

  Daddy briefly looked up from his papers and sighed.

  “No, I didn’t give your mummy’s cameo to Violet. I gave it to Eugenia.”

  “But you promised it to me!” I exclaimed.

  Daddy stood and came to me, but instead of hushing me with a warm hug and kisses full of regret, he stayed at a fair distance and quietly said, “That was all before I married again.”

  I looked up at him, pleading with my tear-filled eyes for him to see how much that hurt me, and what a huge mistake he had made.

  “I have a pile of work I have to get through,” he said, returning to his seat behind the desk. “Close the door on your way out.”

  With Beatrice and Violet gone with Mlle. Duval, and Eugenia busy with her obsession with making our plantation the most notable in the entire country, I was able to steal away with only a small chance of being caught.

  Even with Curtis P. Boyd policing the plantation with his new assistant slave driver, Otis, my activities went undetected when it was assumed I was up in my room studying the Bible, as I’d been instructed by Eugenia to do for all of the afternoon.

  I headed into the woods, seeking relief from the scorching summer sun under the shade of tall oaks. Each time I was able to steal away, I wished Hattie were with me. I longed for her company as I slipped away to a quiet spot along the river to cool off.

  In summers past, we’d spent most of our days there. It was a little alcove that we called our secret spot. The other plantation children went there only occasionally. Mostly they headed to the small pond closer to John Mason’s plantation. Because Hattie and I were outcasts, we were never invited. It was just as well, for we enjoyed being alone with each other. No one understood our sisterhood. It was frowned upon.

  Until recently, the color of her skin wasn’t a burden on our plantation. She was treated as well as I was, loved and adored by Daddy. But now, since Eugenia returned as Daddy’s wife, to my dismay, Hattie had become an ordinary slave. I resented Daddy for allowing that to happen. It was bad enough that she had been removed from the mansion with Mammy. Now she was in the cotton fields, picking all day long under the blazing hot sun with her cousins.

  The day I saw this, I ran to Daddy to insist he remove her from the fields.

  He and Eugenia were in a heated discussion, and if the door hadn’t been left slightly ajar, I would have never been enlightened as to the intimate details of their marriage.

  “You swore to me you would stop laying with her! How dare you bring her filth into our bed! ”

  “Eugenia, please, I swear to you I have stopped. It is you I am faithful to,” Daddy insisted.

  I stepped closer and peered into their suite. Eugenia was standing facing the window, her long arms folded insolently over her chest. Daddy was pacing back and forth behind her and tried several times to place his hands on her shoulders, but she stiffly pulled back, all the while keeping her gaze out the windows and over to the slave quarters.

  “If I see you steal out to her again, I will divorce you,” she said in a steely, unforgiving tone. “And then what will you be left with? What then!” She spun around. “You can’t run this plantation without me. You have seen what I can do; you see what is possible. Those Negroes are finally realizing that if they don’t work, they will be punished. An iron fist is what works, Thomas. Unfortunately, you weren’t born with one.”

  “I know. You are right in every way. You are good for me, for the plantation. I need you!”

  When Daddy said that, Eugenia’s eyes softened, and her usually stiff, rigid shoulders lowered dejectedly.

  “Then why don’t you come to me,” she asked, her eyes unable to look directly up at him. “Not since we’ve been married have you loved me the way a man loves a woman.”

  Daddy brought her in and held her close, caressing her back, and he moved his hand up to her cheek. I shuddered watching Daddy kiss her.

  With a sickness in the pit of my stomach, I faded into the shadows and closed the door, shutting off their intimacy from my mind, telling myself I would have to speak with Daddy about Hattie when Eugenia was on a day trip into Savannah. Anything I needed to say to my father would have to be out of earshot from his wife, for she knew how to seduce Daddy, in every way.

  While swimming in the alcove alone, I reflected on what a dire situation I was in. Da
ddy had pulled away from me and sought the companionship of an ugly, yet admittedly clever older woman. She was what Daddy thought he needed. He gave up Mammy, Hattie, and now me.

  Was she really a witch in disguise, I wondered. Did she cast a black-magic spell over him? Did she know something called voodoo, the magic that some of the slaves often used?

  While in deep thought, floating on my back and staring up into the canopy of emerald green leaves high above me, I suddenly caught a glimpse of someone from the corner of my eye.

  Startled, I quickly turned over and knelt down, using the dark river water to cover my naked body. There was more than one person, and I could hear giggles behind the tree trunks.

  “Who’s there!” I called with a booming voice, trying not to sound timid. My eyes scanned the forest. “I know you’re there. Come out!”

  In just a blink of an eye, I saw that it was John Mason and Susannah, who had snatched my clothes and run off with them, laughing hysterically until their laughter faded in the distance.

  “Come back! You can’t leave me here with no clothes!” I cried. “Please come back!”

  I waited and waited for what seemed like hours, shivering in the water, surrounded only by familiar faint forest sounds, trying to decide what to do.

  The day was growing late, and I was turning into a prune. My teeth couldn’t stop from chattering. Finally I gave up hope of them returning my clothing and ending the cruel prank, and I climbed out and hid behind a tree.

  “How am I going to get home?” I cried to myself.

  John Mason was always mean to me, and now he had just turned plain cruel.

  After sitting and pondering my dilemma for some time, I grew tired and hungry, and I knew I had to make my way home. I took a deep breath, and started toward home, telling myself that I was fully clothed, lying to myself and denying what a humiliating situation it really was.

  When I thought I heard a voice or footstep, I jumped behind a tree to hide and slowly peeked around to see if anyone was there. Every time, it was my imagination or just a forest critter scurrying under a pile of leaves or a bird fluttering in the branches of the tree above, until I was about halfway home.

  Eliza Sue was walking with two of her little sisters. She was close enough for me to call out without exposing myself.

  “Eliza Sue! Over here!”

  She stopped walking and looked for where the voice was coming from.

  “It’s me, Amelia. I’m behind the tree!”

  “Amelia?”

  “Yes, please come closer,” I begged.

  She told her sisters to stay put and came toward me and said curiously, “What are you doing hiding behind the tree?”

  “John Mason went and took all my clothes when I was swimming down by the river,” I explained in a pitiful whisper.

  Eliza Sue was short and chubby. Her plump face was pale and full of freckles around her nose and cheeks. She wasn’t exactly a pretty girl, but her blonde hair was full and shiny, with thick, wide streaks of platinum blonde highlights. I always envied her hair. All of her sisters had dark-colored hair, like Perry Montgomery and his wife. Eliza Sue once told me that she had inherited the color of her hair from her paternal great-grandmother, who was of Swedish decent, apparently.

  Her sisters Edna and Martha approached with curiosity.

  “Tell them to stay back,” I ordered.

  Eliza Sue instructed them to stay put.

  “Go get me a dress, something to wear. I’ll stay here until you return.”

  “But Amelia, none of my clothes will fit you,” she said.

  “It doesn’t matter. Anything will do,” I implored.

  “All right, I’ll find something.”

  “Hurry, please!” I cried.

  Eliza Sue went off, with her sisters in tow.

  “Hurry!” I called again. She turned, waved, and hurried along.

  I clung to the tree as the only means to shield my nakedness. My body was changing dramatically that summer. It was strange to see my baby body transform into a new, womanly figure. When I looked at the other girls my age at church, I could see I was maturing earlier than most. I knew that’s why Daddy kept his distance, but it was just the opposite with all other men.

  That’s why when Perry Montgomery came into the woods looking for me, I was frightened. Why hadn’t Eliza Sue returned?

  “Amelia, Eliza Sue explained what happened. I brought you a dress. One of Myrna’s dresses that she can no longer fit into,” he called out.

  I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to try and calm myself. No man had ever seen me naked, let alone a married man whose eager eyes followed me whenever we were in the same room. If Perry Montgomery could have undressed me with those eyes, I knew he would have.

  Since the night he came out onto the gallery and told me how beautiful I was, he had been even more intrigued with me. After formal suppers and heavy drinking with the men, he would excuse himself and follow me, even to my own bedroom.

  “Please, Mr. Montgomery,” I whispered when he quickened his pace after me. I always managed to get to my room and lock the door. I was a bundle of nerves around him. I no longer imagined a lovers’ union with him. I grew too afraid of the way my body reacted to my thoughts and fantasies about him. It was wrong, and I feared his gaze, his chase, and most of all, his touch. All those dreams, I soon realized, should have remained just that.

  “Why didn’t Eliza Sue bring them?” I asked, praying he would just drop the dress and leave me.

  “After she told me what happened, I knew it would be best if I took you home. I can explain everything to Eugenia. I know how she is,” he said with great self assurance. “I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”

  He was right. If Eugenia found out I had gone to the river, I would be punished. Even though she knew losing my clothes wasn’t my fault, she would blame me, regardless.

  I silently struggled with what to do. I had never been in such a predicament. He must have sensed my concern.

  “I will drop the dress by the tree. I promise to turn and not look while you are dressing. I am a gentleman, Amelia. A married man with daughters of my own. I, of course, will respect you.”

  “All right,” I said, resigned, and listened as he dismounted his horse and walked toward the tree. Then I heard the plop of the dress falling into a small pile of leaves.

  I reached around, felt for the dress, and as soon as I had it in my hands, I snatched it up. I dressed as quickly as I could. I heard him pat his horse several times, all while he was whistling a tune. When I was done, I stepped out and finally took a much-needed breath. As his gaze fell on me, my heart suddenly began to beat out of control.

  “You look lovely in that dress. Myrna could never do it justice,” he said, and smiled.

  “I should be getting home,” I said, nervously looking away. Perhaps it was all those years I had gazed lovingly at him. Maybe I was at fault because I was the one who instigated his longing.

  “Yes, let’s go.” He reached for my hand to lift me onto his horse.

  “I can walk,” I said, keeping a fair distance.

  “That’s nonsense. The faster we get you home, the better. Now come, let me lift you.”

  Perry Montgomery came to me, and I swallowed hard while pleading with my eyes for him not to touch me. He responded with an empathetic smile and offered me an apology before lifting me up onto his horse.

  “My dear Amelia, I have put you in a compromising position more often than I care to admit. I am ashamed of pursuing you, a young girl no older than my own daughter,” he began in a soft voice. I stared up at him, trying hard to contain my exasperation and fear of him being so close to me again. As he continued, however, I realized he was offering a sincere apology for all his inappropriate behavior.

  “Lately I’ve been drinking a bit too much, which causes me to do things I wouldn’t normally do. I, along with your father, have a lot of financial pressures, and the constant talk and threat of the abolitio
n of slavery has us all in a tailspin. Then there is my wife, whom I love dearly. She has been having a difficult time and shuns me.”

  His confession was much too personal, and it made me very uncomfortable. I didn’t want to hear about all these adult issues or to know how lonely he was without the company of his wife.

  “I have noticed you since you were a young girl. You are stunning and so mature for your age.”

  “Can’t we just get back, Mr. Montgomery?” I choked out.

  He sighed heavily and nodded.

  “Yes, we should. But first, will you accept my apology, Amelia? Will you forgive this nearly middle-aged man, who at times can’t refrain from wanting a beautiful woman, even if she isn’t quite a woman yet?”

  I nodded as if I understood. But I didn’t. Not at the time. I didn’t understand Daddy or Perry Montgomery. Did grown men always chase after and violate things that didn’t belong to them, only to beg for forgiveness in the end?

  ~ ~ ~

  ~ Nine ~

  Eugenia was waiting for me as expected, with a face full of rage and eyes that shot daggers through me. If it weren’t for Perry Montgomery’s explanation, which to my surprise was an outright lie, I certainly would have been banished to my room for eternity.

  “My dear aunt, Amelia was invited to help prepare for the birthday festivities for tomorrow,” he explained through his confident smile. He discretely winked at me, indicating I should go along with his tall tale.

  “Eliza Sue asked if Amelia could come. It is going to be a huge party, with all the children and their families from the surrounding plantations invited. Surely you have no qualms about Amelia coming to help?”

  Perry Montgomery carried me down from the horse. I fretfully stood in his shadow, avoiding Eugenia’s glare.

  “Amelia did not ask permission to do such thing, Perry,” she spat. “When she was called for supper and discovered missing, well…”

  Perry Montgomery interrupted. “All is well, Aunt Eugenia. It was my fault she didn’t ask for permission.”