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

that.”
    Suddenly Elise realized she had her own weapon, though she was painfully aware that it was a weapon with a double edge, just as lethal to her as it was to Maurry. Only her desperation made her use it.
    “Maurry, I’ll do anything if you get Hannah back to me.”
    “How can I get her back if I sold her?”
    “You can do it. I know you can.” She crawled from her bed where she had been lying and dropped to her knees in front of Maurry. “Please! I’ll give you what you want. I’ll do all you ask. Just get me Hannah!”
    Maurry rubbed his chin, his beady little eyes narrow with thought. She knew he was thinking of his investment. She no longer cared. All that mattered was getting Hannah back.
    “No more shenanigans?” he said.
    “I’ll be good. I’ll be obedient.”
    “How can I believe you?”
    “I . . . I give you my word.”
    “You know what the word of a nigger is worth?” His eyes glittered with cutting amusement.
    “It’s all I have,” she replied lamely.
    “That ain’t exactly the case. . . .” His smile made her skin crawl. “Okay, I’ll put you on . . . I think it’s called ‘probation.’ You prove to me I can trust you, and I’ll see what can be done about the brat. But I swear, you cross me again, and I will do more than sell her!”
    Thus, after a week, Elise had learned to be a very obedient prostitute. And for her good behavior she was allowed to visit Hannah. It was several more weeks before Elise was given permission to have her child whenever she wished.
    Mae taught Elise their nefarious trade well. Her first lesson being, “Think of something else, dearie. I think of all the fine dresses in the latest Godey’s Lady’s Book , which ones I would like and in what colors.”
    Clothing was one of the few pleasant aspects of Elise’s plight. Maurice Thomson prided himself in operating a high-class bordello and wanted his women to look accordingly. Elise was given a few hand-me-downs at first, but after two weeks of obedience, Mae was given permission to take her to a dressmaker to be fitted for several outfits of her own. These were hardly of the style worn by a plantation lady, especially a matron, who was encouraged to wear sedate navys, browns, grays, and such. A genteel southern lady most often wore her hair confined to a conservative chignon, and face painting was considered absolutely scandalous. Sometimes, for a ball, Elise had been able to get away with a bit of pale rouge on her lips, but little more. Not so for the women of Maurice Thomson’s employ. He insisted on gowns of bright, saucy colors, usually with a plethora of lace and the lowest cut décolletage possible.
    Elise accepted this not only as a distraction, which she indeed learned to cling to, but also as another vital way to cope with her circumstance. The bawdy clothes and the liberal face painting provided a way in which Elise could further distance her inner self from what she had become. When she was outfitted in such a manner, she could hide her true self. In a small way this seemed to protect the core of who she was. It helped that when she looked in a mirror, she did indeed look like another person. Mother Hearne, or even Kendell himself, probably would not have readily recognized her.
    In this way Elise managed to live from day to day. She survived, but it was a survival built on the shabbiest of foundations, much like the set of a stage play—very showy on the outside, but behind the glitter, nothing but scaffolding and sandbags. Elise had become an actress, playing the part of a fancy lady. Thus her world, such as it was, took on a semblance of security.
    All this was to change drastically.
    Elise had assumed Thomson was an established element in New Orleans. If he had used her mother in the same business twenty years ago, it seemed logical that he had been operating his shady “hotel” for that long. Elise learned otherwise one afternoon.
    Mae came into her room as she was bathing Hannah.