Free Texas Angel, 2-in-1 by Judith Pella

child had been placed in the care of a maid who knew nothing about children. She had tried to wean Hannah, and Elise had helplessly listened to the baby’s cries of protest echoing through the house. Mae eased Elise’s worries somewhat by telling her a wet nurse had been found. Maurice traded one of his maids straight across for the wet nurse, who could also perform maid’s duties. Elise’s encounters with Thomson thus far told her this act was more for the protection of his investment than for charitable reasons.
    Only thoughts of Hannah kept Elise going. Determined to get her daughter back, Elise performed her duties to the satisfaction of her new master. It had sickened her so that she had literally vomited after her first encounter, though she had waited until she was alone so as not to displease the customer.
    Once Hannah was returned to her, Elise tried to perform her loathsome duties in a way that would appease Maurry, but she could not shake her visceral sense of revulsion each time she led a customer to her bed. She tried to smile in a beguiling, tempting manner as the other women did. Perhaps if she indulged in alcohol as they did, she might be able to pretend more easily, but she refused that temptation because she wanted to have a clear head for Hannah. Thus, even she could sense the wooden, stiff result of her attempts at merriment. How could one smile and laugh when each time her insides twisted and trembled, writhing like an animal half-dead, half-alive?
    The copious amounts of strong drink consumed by the men certainly did not keep them from complaining and refusing her company. But Maurry was furious with her. His threats became more and more ominous, and finally he came to her bed himself to teach her how to behave. He arrived drunk, as he often was, and executed his “lessons” in such a vile and violent manner that she was left physically bruised and emotionally shattered. Instead of turning into a saucy strumpet, she cowered in terror.
    Elise thought frequently about taking her life but knew she would never do that and leave Hannah to the bereft mercies of her owner. She must escape. It was her only hope. So early one morning after her last customer had departed, Elise made a desperate attempt to flee. She had not even as viable a plan as she had had with her hapless flight back at the Hearne plantation; she simply gathered Hannah into her arms and slipped out of the house. But having been in New Orleans only one week, she had yet to venture out into the city, so she had no idea where to go once she left the house. It was too late to ask directions or to find a hack. Even if she could do so, she had no money to pay for passage from this town, her prison. She wandered the streets for hours, fear gnawing at her. Hannah’s cries echoed that fear.
    Maurry found her eventually and dragged her back to the house. After wrenching Hannah from her arms, he took her into her room and beat her, not with a whip and in no place where the marks would readily show, for he was conscious of not damaging prime property, as he called her.
    When he was done with her, she asked, like the fool she was, “Where is Hannah?”
    “Forget about the brat. You ain’t never going to see her again.”
    “No!” she screamed.
    For the next three days she was allowed to believe the worst, that Maurry had sold Hannah. In a fit of despair, she found a knife and would have used it on herself, but Mae, fearing such an action, had been keeping a close watch on Elise and stopped her in time.
    Later Maurry came to her room. “You ungrateful little tart!” he railed. “I give you a roof over your head, food, everything a body could want, and you repay me like this.”
    She could almost have laughed at the gall of the man. He now thought she owed him something! Yes, it was laughable, but all it did was bring tears to Elise’s eyes.
    “Without my baby, I don’t care if I live or die,” she sobbed.
    “Well, I don’t like hearing