“Mama held me up.”
I followed him up the ladder to his flatbed loft over the haystacks. A single candle burned but did not mask the odor of damp animals and droppings.
“How do you sleep up here with these smelly horses?” I pinched my nose.
“Sleeping with the animals is how I become Massa to them.” He untied my headscarf and released my curls. “Got something for you.”
“What is it?” I sat cross-legged with my skirt pulled down over my feet.
“Close your eyes and no peeking.”
I could hear him rummaging around. “Now, open them.”
My lids blinked open to see Essex holding up two leather strips. Hanging from each was a wooden carving of a half of a heart.
“This one for you.” He took one of the necklaces and tied it around my neck. “Just a little something to hold us over till I can marry you properly and get us ’ways from here.”
I touched the heart to my lips. Then he gave me the other necklace and I tied it around his neck.
“I love it.” I nuzzled my nose against his chin stubble until I felt him blush. “Thank you kindly.”
“Anything for you.”
Essex made a pillow out of hay and wrapped it in a piece of cloth. We settled back into the nook of the loft until our bodies were flush against each other. His strong arms around me made me feel safe. Essex nosed my hair, trailed his lips in sweet kisses down the side of my face until he found my mouth.
“You taste like sugarcane.” He undid the buttons to my top, fondling away my chemise until he cupped my breasts with both hands. I arched and groaned as he massaged my nipples. Heat rose between us. I could sense desire taking over my reason and logic, so I kissed him one last time and then elbowed him away.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you want me?” he panted.
I fastened my buttons. “More than words can say.”
“Then what is it?”
“Mama said not to catch no babies till I am free. Only a few more months, then we can leave this place and have as many babies as we want.”
“You believe Massa’s promise?”
I nodded. “Tonight he told Mama he was sending me to a school in Massachusetts. How much you save up for your freedom?”
“Round one hundred dollars since Massa been letting me hire myself out. But Parrott said a good stable boy like me worth two, three times more.”
“What are we going to do?”
Essex leaned in real close and made his eyes big. “I aims to run if I have to.”
“Hush that talk.”
He put his mouth on my ear. “I have been testing how far I can get when I’s working the horses on other plantations. Making a plan.”
“You talking foolish, Essex Henry.”
“I ain’t letting you leave here without me.”
“There has to be another way.”
“You mine, Pheby. If I gotta run to be with you, then so be it.”
“Dangerous talk and you know it.”
He looked me deep in the eyes and fondled my cheek. “She did this?”
I nodded.
“Woman ain’t no good.” His mood soured.
“And I better get back up to the house before she starts wearing out my name.” I stood, smoothing down my skirts.
“When will I see you again?”
“Soon as I can get to you. Please do not do anything foolish before then.”
“We are going to be together, Pheby. That’s a promise.” He walked me to the door and kissed me long and hard; I bid him good night.
CHAPTER 3
Mistress of the House
Every morning Missus Delphina rose before first light. Up even before the overseer, Snitch, blew “de risin’ horn.” She liked to take what she called her constitutional—a stroll down to the garden, over to the dairy house, and then out to the fields. By the time Master woke up, she had already gotten a report on the crops from Snitch and written it all down in Master’s ledger. Those who worked up at the house had to be up before she was, of course. Rachel, now dead, would stand at the ready with her work dress, while Lovie clutched a tray of morning tea. Aunt Hope toiled away in the kitchen, with smoke blowing high from the chimney carrying the promise of the day’s meal. Essex groomed the horses, and even Mama and I sat at the loom spinning diligently in case Missus popped in on her way to the garden. Now that I slept in the big house, I tossed uncomfortably all night. Without Mama to wake me, I overslept my first morning.
“Come on, gal, make haste.” Lovie nudged me in the middle of blackness. When I opened my eyes, it took me a moment to gather my wits. Sometime in the middle of the night I had turned my mattress sideways and slept with my feet in the hallway.
“She be up soon. You needin’ to be ready to dress her.”
“Why me?” I yawned.
“Was Rachel’s job, girl. Now it’s yours.”
I wiped the sleep from my eyes, shoved my pallet back in the closet, and changed from my nightgown to my house dress in the dark. My tongue smacked with thirst. I was wishing I had a sip of some water when Missus started shouting my name.
I rushed to her door. “Yes, Missus.”
“Do not stand there idle. Take down my walking dress. The day is wasting.”
I hurried to her wardrobe and pulled out a mauve dress.
“That one is for dinner, you ninny. The plaid one.” Missus stood tapping her foot with her arms crossed at the bosom. She looked ghostly by the candlelight in her bloomers and chemise.
“Where is my corset?”
“I have it right here.” I held it up. She turned her back to me and held out her arms so that I could fit the corset over her belly bump. Not sure why she bothered with the corset to walk the plantation. ’Less she was trying to impress old Snitch.
None of us cared if her belly was in or out.
“Do not have all morning, girl.”
I tried not to touch her skin as I stretched one long lace through the corset, then fastened each end so the string pulled through the eyelet. Through the mirror, I watched her face to see where the corset fit comfortably.
“Missus Delphina, can you take a long breath in?”
When she did I settled the corset a pinch lower, fitting it under her waist flab.
“Rachel would have been finished by now.”
I fastened the front elastic and pulled sharply at the strings to make it even tighter. Missus gulped.
“Tight enough?”
She did not respond so I kept pulling until the corset was anchored and she looked strained in the face. The price of beauty for a white woman. Even when with child.
“Fine.”
I held out her basic petticoat and then helped her into her walking dress.
“When you finish in here, Lovie will get you started on the laundry.”
She left me in the bedroom. I went through all the chores I had performed the morning before: wiped down the four-poster bed frame, footboard, and headboard with a mixture of olive oil and vinegar until they gleamed. Tied back the curtains, made the bed, sorted her dresses, swept the ashes from the fireplace, scoured the hearth with soap and sand, then stacked in fresh wood that I would light before dinner. Afterward, Lovie led me down a short flight of steps and down a hall to the scullery, tucked away at the back end of the house. In this room, we prepped the big meals, washed dishes, and laundered the clothes. Lovie had soaked a batch of whites overnight in rainwater and ash lye.