Free Whiplash by Yvie Towers Page B

eleven years old.  She’d just been brought to the manor from the slave shack village.  She lived up in the attic of the manor - and she was my housegirl. 
    Every morning, she’d bring up my breakfast and have it set on the table before I even woke up.  If I wished it, she’d bring up my other meals; if not, I could go down to the dining room and fetch my own food.  Her duties included but were not limited to: dressing me, braiding my hair, washing and steaming my clothes, bringing my food to my room, bed making, cleaning and oiling my furniture, sewing – there were too many things for her to name them all.  Basically, if I wanted or needed something, it was Eliza’s job to see to it.  She’d offered to help me bathe and dress for that day, but I sent her away.  The poor thing, she was remorseful and thought I’d deemed her inadequate.
    After she’d gone, I laid back down in my bed, staring up at the chandelier on the ceiling.  I felt sick and disgusted – with Julian and myself.  I knew what it was to be a housegirl – always tending to someone else with never any time for self.  I didn’t want that for Eliza… I didn’t want that for me .  Sighing, I got out of bed and went to the washroom to ready myself.  I emerged feeling refreshed but not clean.    
    I sensed the aroma of hot food somewhere nearby, and when I looked around the room I saw that someone – probably Eliza – had set several silver-domed trays on my table.  I went over and lifted the covers, completely surprised at what was under them. It was a glorious spread of croissants, pears, cheese, smoked meat, eggs, fig jam, and butter. To the left of the food were crystal carafes filled with orange juice, lemonade, and water.  To the left of that was a small pail packed full of fresh snow and it had a silver scoop jutting out of the top. On the other side of that were steaming kettles of tea and coffee, as well as a little, silver tray of accoutrements – sugar, cream, lemon, and mint leaves. 
    After putting on a housedress and matching slippers, I went and drew the curtains back all the way.  I could see the entire plantation from my window.  The field slaves were out there already laboring in clothes that couldn’t possibly have protected them from the cold.  I saw several of them shivering and making haste with their work, unsuccessfully trying to stay warm.  A sinking feeling hit my stomach, and I fell down to the ground and cried for a few minutes before going back over to the table.
    I’d been eating for about ten minutes when I saw Beau making his way across the courtyard.  He and about six or seven other field slaves were on their way to the pavilion to eat.  They walked in a tight cluster, all with their heads ducked down against the icy wind, just trying to stay warm enough to make it to where there was, I hoped, something hot to eat and drink.  Beau was leading the pack, his broad, strong body providing the men walking behind him a slight reprieve.  I followed them with my eyes until they made it to the pavilion. 
    It was then that I knew what I would do to fill my days, and I quickly finished up my breakfast, tucked away a few pieces of meat, cheese, and bread for Eliza, and exited my room on my way down to the sitting room.
    When I got down there, several of the girls were already there. Coral was sitting on a chaise in a sun-lit corner, reading.  Pearl and Opal were playing a game of checkers on a petite tea table set between two small settees.  Jet was playing cards alone on a rug in front of the fireplace.  Each of the girls offered a nod in greeting as I entered the room and made my way to a wicker basket that was filled with all kinds of yarns and fabrics.  I took what I needed and went back up to my room without a word to anyone. It’s not that I didn’t want to stay and interact with the other girls, I just wanted to be alone in my room.
    I ran into Hannah on the stairs as she was coming down.