Free The Pull Of Freedom by Brenda Barrett Page A

with tears and she wrung her hands, “father wrote and he said that I can come home whenever I want, he will send his ship for me. I just need to say the word.”
    “Father this, father that.” Robert said strolling around the room. “I'm used to Mark being here. I will miss him if you take him. You are escaping like a frail debutante from hardship back to your father’s secure wealth.”
    “What about me?” Elizabeth asked dully facing her husband, her face pale and her hands trembling, “will you miss me?”
    Robert paused, “I used to see you every year at Yule tide before you took it upon yourself to come to the colonies.”
    “That was not enough,” Elizabeth said defeated, “I wanted us to live like a regular couple.”
    “You can not handle the lifestyle here,” Robert said raking his hand through his hair, “you are impossible to live with. The customs here are different from London.”
    “What custom is that? Sleeping with your slaves?” Elizabeth looked at Robert hard, red colour crept from his neck up to his face, “I won’t stand for it Robert, it is wrong and immoral.”
    Robert stalked to the door and flung it open; a frightened Martha who was just about to knock scampered out of his way.
    “You can go,” Robert swung back and looked at his wife, “but Mark stays. I bid you goodnight madam.”
    Martha went tentatively into her Mistress' room; the poor lady was crying her eyes out, her small body hardly made a dent into the bed.
    “Close the door,” Elizabeth wailed and flung a pillow over her tear streaked face.
    Martha closed the door and stood in the room, she was there to help the lady dress for bed, she had heard that there was a mini-quarrel in the dining room and that her Mistress had stalked off to bed. It seemed to her that white women were no better off than the slaves in this awful  world. She looked at the embittered woman on the bed and sighed.
    Elizabeth got up and looked at Martha, “I'm leaving this country. I can’t take Mark but I will still go. Could you pack for me Martha, my trunk should hold all that is necessary. I will go to London where there is culture and fun.”
    Martha nodded heading for the area where her Mistresses dresses were kept.
    “Don’t pack now,” Elizabeth sniffled, “I will tell you when I'm leaving but it will be soon.”
    Martha headed for the door, “is that all ma’am.”
    “No,” Elizabeth sat up in the bed her red-rimmed eyes sad, “am I a bad person?” She looked at Martha imploringly, “I just can’t live like the other wives in this society. I can’t turn a blind eye. I just can’t. How can you sell your own child? I guess I'm not strong enough to endure such inhumane practices. Surely, God must punish men for that evil. The children are not slaves anymore, they are half yours. Yet they treat them as you would any other person in the gutter.”
    Martha stood silently listening and nodding.
    “I'm going back before I am totally ruined.” Elizabeth got up from the bed slowly. “Probably when a little more refinement and culture arrives here I'll come back.”
    Martha looked at Elizabeth and thought how naïve she was, going back to England would make the situation worse. Her husband would go on living like he was before and more than likely indoctrinate his son into his practices when he had free rein of the household. Running away was a bad idea. She imagined Mark’s innocent face and her skin turned clammy. He was not going to do well if he grows up without his mother’s guidance. All these things were going through Martha’s head as she watched her selfish mistress.
    “You will take care of Mark for me,” Elizabeth said to Martha, “you will teach him the correct values.”
    Martha nodded contemplatively. They called them slaves and ordered them around and yet they allowed them to rear their children. “I will ma’am,” she said out loud.

Chapter Nineteen
     
    They were around the dining table at the