Whiplash (10 page)

Chapter Eight

The next morning I woke up even before the first cock’s crow.  When Eliza came in with my breakfast, I was already sitting over at the table waiting for it, fully clothed in a dress with a plunging neckline.  I knew Julian would be back to see me that day, and I wanted to be ready for him. 

I wasn’t let down. Just as I’d expected him to, Julian came to the door of my domicile shortly after midday.  I’d been sitting on the edge of my bed facing the door all morning; even eating my lunch in that very spot with my plate balanced on my thighs.  I heard the rattling of his key in the lock, and I stood up and approached the door.  My eyes were trained on the door handle, and upon its first sign of movement, I sank to my knees with my head bowed.

That door opened, and in that moment the game was changed.  Julian stopped so suddenly that his boots skidded forward, almost sending him falling backwards onto his behind.  His gasp wasn’t nearly hushed enough to not be heard.  It took all the strength I had to maintain my stoicism and play my role. I had the upper hand, and I acted quickly to capitalize on his falter.

“Good morning, Master.”

Complete silence…

I couldn’t see exactly what was going on with my eyes watching the floor, but I did see his feet shuffle as he shifted his weight from left to right and back again.  Then I heard the movement of fabric, followed by Julian brusquely clearing his throat.

“Good morning, Ruby,” he said in a hoarse and unsure voice.

              He waited a few moments, maybe for me to move or say something, but I sat there silently and motionless.  My eyes hadn’t taken their focus from the floor, and my chest wasn’t even heaving as I sat there breathing only deeply and often enough to stay conscious.  Julian took the two steps required to be standing in front of me.  He was close enough for me to see his reflection in his shoes.  He was looking down the front of his body at me, and I would have given anything to be able to make out the expression on his face.  I wasn’t at all afraid, but I wasn’t sure that I could say the same for him.

“Are you ill, Ruby?”

“No, Master – I am quite well.”

“Then what, do tell, is the meaning of this?”

“I was waiting for you, Master.  I knew you’d come for me.”

He lifted his left leg behind him and slammed the door shut with one deliberate sweep of his foot.  Two big strong hands gripped each of my shoulders, and like a bullet out of a gun I was pulled up off of my knees.  Julian’s nose was mere inches from mine, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him.  His eyes dared me to cower, but I didn’t.  My nerve wouldn’t even allow me to blink, and Julian was the first one to crack.

His right hand glided from my shoulder and up to my hair.  He fisted a handful of my curls and pulled, sending me stepping backwards and over to the bed. I didn’t flinch when I felt the back of my knees touch the mattress, or when he rotated his wrist to spin me around and bend me over the bed.  His right hand still in my hair, Julian used his left hand to lift my skirt and all three layers of my slip up and over my backside.  He ripped the ribbons of my garters and yanked my bloomers down to just above my knees.  After a few moments of fumbling with his belt and pants, he’d freed himself and positioned himself right at the opening to my womb. 

Drops of his sweat dripped and splashed onto my lower back and buttocks.  I could feel his breath charging out of him and rushing over the back of me.  His fist tightened in my hair, and his hand began to tremble, as did his legs.  Through it all I remained controlled and quiet, even as Julian was falling to pieces.

A pass of cool air swished over my upturned rear, and it took me several seconds to even realize that Julian had stepped away from me.  He was already tucked back into his pants and opening the door by the time I righted my clothes and stood back up.  I heard the key turn in the lock, followed by heavy footsteps – he was gone.  A sense of satisfaction welled up inside of me.  I’d been able to make Julian lose control, and I was sure that given a little time, I could find out what it was that made him tick.  There had to be some motive or explanation for his behavior, and I intended to find out what that was.

Eliza brought up my lunch and stayed to braid my hair after I ate.  I let her have what I couldn’t finish, and she was most appreciative.  I tried to teach her how to play cards, but she had a hard time remembering what the numbers were.  Even so, I enjoyed my afternoon with her and even let her take a nap in my bed before she went back up to the attic.  Eliza’s company was fast becoming one of the few joys of everyday life, and I did my best to treat her as a friend rather than as a servant.

Later in the afternoon, I was sitting by my window reading, just trying to pass the time before it got to be seven o’clock.  A commotion was going on outside – several of the field hands were making a fuss about something coming up the dirt path.  I stood and went to have a look for myself, and I saw a white stagecoach being pulled by four white horses.  The sun reflected off of the brassy spokes of the wheels, blinding me for a moment when it came around the final bend on its way up to the manor.  A white man with even whiter hair was driving the coach, and his passenger next to him had a shotgun.  Two Negroes perched on the back of the coach were also armed with guns, and inside the coach itself were two heads, each topped with a stack of perfectly-formed curls.

Before the horses even came to a complete halt at the front steps of the manor, the two Negroes on the back jumped down and went to hitch them to a post.  Then they both went over to the door of the coach, and one of them grabbed the handle and pulled it open.  The other dropped down to rest on his hands and knees.  One after the other, the two women stepped out onto the back of the man on the ground to be escorted down by the doorman.

The women each took a few moments to tidy up, smoothing their skirts down and repositioning their bosoms in their corseted gowns.  The older of the two had silvery hair and a short, wrinkled neck.  Her jowls weighed her face down into a frown, and her eyelids were just as droopy as the rest of her.  I decided she looked like a bloodhound.

The younger one only resembled the other in skin color – she was the complete opposite in every other way.  Whereas the older one was short and round, the young one was tall – maybe even taller than me – and womanly.  Her tawny hair shimmered in the light of the early-setting sun, and that, combined with her shimmering, pink gown, gave her whole being a stunning glow. 

The men dismounted the stagecoach and walked over to where the women were standing.  A few words passed between the four of them before they all disappeared under the awning on their way up to the front door.  Soon after, voices could be heard coming from the foyer.  Then, all was quiet again.  I sat next to my window, looking outside and waiting for them to reappear.  Three hours passed before they came back out of the manor. 

The young woman stomped down the steps and over to her waiting chariot.  The two guard Negroes saw her coming, and they both assumed the position for her to mount into the cabin.  That time, the former step-stool was the doorman, and he nodded his head in service as the woman grabbed his hand and stepped up and into the coach.  The others in the party followed close behind, and once the two Negroes had the horses untied and the reins had been returned to the white-haired man, the stagecoach made its way back down the dirt path toward the front gate.

Chapter Nine

Suppertime came and went without incident.  At five thirty Vivian came into my room.  She looked around the room as if she were searching for something, or maybe someone.  Her lips were pursed together, and her eyes were slightly narrowed as she traipsed around the edges of the room before coming to a stop right in front of my window. 

“Your face has healed up nicely,” she said with her back turned.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“I’ve been sent up here with orders for you.  Julian wants you fully dressed by seven o’clock sharp.  You’ll wait here for him to come for you.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled loudly.  I could tell she was upset about something, and  I knew she was baiting me into asking her about it.  I wasn’t in the mood for any of her games.  My mind was already occupied with trying to stay a few steps ahead of Julian, so toying around with Vivian just wasn’t an option at the moment. 

“Yes ma’am, I understand.  I’ll be ready for him when he gets up here.”

“Good.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got nine other girls to check on before the patrons arrive.”

“Miss Vivian, could you send Eliza up?” I asked.

“Surely,” she replied curtly.

Her shoes clicked on the floor as she exited the room, locking the door behind her.  I only spent a few minutes bathing myself, because I knew I’d need most of my time to get dressed.  Eliza was already waiting in my room waiting for me when I came out of my washroom.  Together, we were able to get me fully clothed and made up with just a few minutes to spare before seven. 

Before the minute hand indicated 7:01 Julian was inserting his key into the lock.  I was sitting in my plush chair as he stepped through the doorway.  I rose to my feet when he closed the door behind him and waited for him to address me. 

He didn’t – at least not at first.  I saw the feral glimmer in his eyes as he appraised me, and his trousers did little to hide his appreciation.  With an outstretched hand, he ushered me over to the table.  After he’d pulled out my chair and settled me in place he took the seat opposite me.  Not a word had passed between us yet.  My patience was wearing thin, and he may have been able to detect the bouncing of my knee under the table.  He didn’t mention it if he
did
know about it, but he did finally say something to break the silence.

“I must say that your face has healed quite nicely, Ruby.  You look as lovely as you ever have this evening.”  He was beguiling and gracious, and that threw me off – but only for a second. 

“Thank you, Master.”

“Everyone else is already downstairs in the parlor.  We’ve got a full booking tonight. As we speak, there are ten gentlemen down there, all ready to get what they’ve paid for.  Pity though, as of now there are only nine girls down there to accommodate them.” 

He used his middle finger to swirl loops in the thin layer of dust on the tabletop, temporarily mesmerizing me.  I mentally shook off my daze and looked up and straight into his eyes.  As a general rule, Julian’s face was always set in a stern, hardened look – kind of like he was chastising someone.  But his face right then was relaxed and composed, giving no indication of any type of emotion – negative or otherwise.  I was fully aware of what he was aiming at, and in a show of bravado I placed myself at the mercy of his whim.

“I can go downstairs tonight, Master.  I’m feeling much better, and I… I want to -”

              “I’m afraid that won’t be necessary tonight, Ruby.  I’ve already decided on a course of action to make up for your absence.  However, I
do
have a proposition for you, and I’m hoping that you’ll give it some consideration.” 

He allowed me to process what he was saying, not demanding an immediate response from me.  I already knew that I’d at least
listen
to what he had to say, and was fairly sure that I’d even agree to it.  But I couldn’t just lay my cards out on the table without appearing to doubt him.  He might’ve caught on to my plan, and it was critical that he have no notion of what I was up to.

“I’m already at your disposal, Master, and I am yours to do with whatever you choose. But… I will listen to what you have to say.” 

“Right you are, indeed.  Shall we get down to it, then?”  He set a small box he’d been carrying on the table between us.  He opened the box and pulled out two tri-folded pieces of parchment. He slid them, along with a pen and an inkwell, across the table and over to me. 

He bowed his head slightly, encouraging me to read over them.  I did – three times.  The words on those papers were the last ones I’d expected to be there.  I looked over to him in disbelief, rendered absolutely speechless. The corners of his mouth lifted upward to produce a victorious grin.  His hand had been played – well played – and I was left with almost no choice in the matter.

“Do these papers mean exactly what the words say?  I mean… am I erroneous in understanding them to mean that I… I can be…”

“Free?”

“Yes,” I breathed with relief when he was able to finish my question as I would have.

“You
are
a smart one, aren’t you?  I have no doubt that you fully comprehend what I’m offering you.  You absolutely did understand them, Ruby.  If you’ll agree to commit to me
exclusively
for just one year, I will pay and sign for your freedom – right now.  At the end of twelve months – so long as you’ve not breached the contract – I will give you your papers, and you can walk right through the front gate of this plantation without ever looking back.”

He had to know that I’d say yes.  I was almost to the point of bursting right out of my skin with joy.  I read the papers a fourth time, permanently sealing the words into my memory.  The top paper outlined Julian’s conditions.  The second one was a certified freedom voucher, already filled out with my assumed name, physical description, and Julian’s signature and seal.  All that remained to be added was the signature of the county clerk.  Tears burned my eyes and spilled over onto my cheeks before I could muster the fortitude to stop them.  Several dropped down onto the parchments and liquefied a few spots of ink.

“I’ll leave you to mull over this for a few minutes.  If you’ll excuse me…” And with that he stood up and let himself out of the room, not even bothering to lock it behind him.  What those papers were affording me was the only thing I’d ever let myself hope for since I’d witnessed my mother being slain – freedom… r
eal
freedom.  I heard Julian’s footsteps approaching my door, closely followed by the footfall of someone else.

A stout man wearing a monocle and a powdered wig came into my room, walking right behind Julian.  He’d been drinking, and I could smell the aroma of bourbon and cigars wafting off of him.  Julian urged him to take the seat across from me and then looked to me for my answer.

My hand was shaking violently as I scribbled my mark onto the conditional parchment, and I was somewhat concerned that it could be deemed illegible, therefore nullifying the validity of the certificate.  But the clerk said nothing of my penmanship, and he signed his name in the designated space on the voucher after Julian paid him.

“Congratulations, gal,” the clerk said as he stuffed the folded monies into his satchel and walked over to the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Giroux,” Julian voiced just as the clerk left the room.  I looked down at the documents that established my sovereignty.

Julian gingerly gathered up the papers and tucked them back into the box.  Then he offered his hand to assist me in standing.  I took it, and he placed my hand on the inside of his protruding elbow in a show of his intent to escort me.  He led me out of my room, down the hallway and stairs, and over into the parlor.  Vivian was in there with the other nine girls and ten men, conducting the business of drawing stones for the evening. 

When the last girl was kneeling at her keeper’s feet, Julian called Vivian over to where we stood, still arm-locked.  She observed our intimate stance and walked over to us, trying in vain to hide her contempt for me, if not the both of us.  The closer she got, the more disingenuous her smile became.  By the time she was standing in front of us, her face was almost split in two.

“Sir?” she asked.

“Has every girl been matched, Vivian?” Julian wasted no time with greetings.  He wanted information from Vivian – nothing more.

“Yes Sir.”

“I see.  There are ten patrons in house tonight, correct?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Uh-huh.  And which man is the odd man out?”

“Mister Giroux was the only man not to pull a stone, and so I’ve paired him with Mr. Bourdain for the evening.”

“Yes, of course… Which of my girls will be on double duty tonight, Vivian?”  Julian’s tone was sharpening with each question, but Vivian didn’t seem to take notice.  At least, she didn’t let on that she did.

“I’ve designated Crystal to be their pet for the evening, Sir.”

Hannah – she’d had to bear the brunt at least once already.  I had no idea what she’d been subjected to during those four days while I was locked away safe in my room.  My fingers tightened around Julian’s arm to the point that he had to reposition it to ease the pressure.  Vivian saw Julian place his hand over mine and stroke it lightly in a comforting gesture.  Her eyes squinted ever so slightly, and then she focused them back on Julian’s face.  I could taste her bitterness from three feet away.

“Crystal is in no condition to serve two men tonight, Vivian.  She’s hardly fit to handle one, so I’m going to appoint another wench for this evening.”  I saw where Julian was headed, and I stood there in anticipation of Vivian’s reaction.

“Crystal is a draw for the manor, Sir.  All the patrons tonight came here in hopes of drawing her stone.  She’s come to be the premier attraction at Maison Devereaux.  It’s just good business… Sir.”

“So now you’re giving me counsel on how to operate
my
establishment, are you?  Well I’ve a better idea… I think you’ll probably want to go and freshen up, Vivian.” 

It took about five seconds for her to deduce that
she
was going to be the one allotted to Mr. Giroux.  When Vivian started to protest, Julian maneuvered his arm out of my grasp and took one step forward to come nose to nose with her.  He tried to keep his voice low, but I heard every word of his angry growl.

“You’ll get your hind parts up those steps and freshen up, Vivian.  If not, I’ll make it so you can’t sit for a week – are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

I swear, that mouth of Vivian’s was just too smart for its own good.  Julian’s hand snapped up and across her face so fast that I felt the air’s movement.  She’d once again foolishly sought to make a fool out of Julian; in front of his clients, no less.  All she had to show for her efforts were a busted lip and a blood-stained dress.  She covered her blemish with her hand and walked around us and up the stairs. Julian dismissed the others in the room to the drink lounge and then sat us both down on one of the couches to wait for Vivian to return.

She reappeared thirty minutes later with a new dress and a new attitude.  Her shoulders were slumped as was her head, and she passed in front of the parlor walking at a snail’s pace, reluctant to face the inevitable.  Lucas was coming out of the lounge with one of the bartending house servants.  Vivian was unable to pass by them to go into the lounge, and so she just stood there, defeated and wounded. When Lucas saw Vivian in such a state and then observed Julian’s silent rage, he immediately excused the bartender to the buttery.  The servant quickly shuffled over to the front door and outside, letting in a blast of cold air that intensified the chills already running up and down my spine.

Julian didn’t even bother to get up from the couch as he spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear his words to Lucas.

“Lucas, Vivian will be Mr. Giroux’s companion tonight.  Ruby and I have somewhere to be, but please relay to him my sincerest apologies for the inconvenience.”

“Very well, Julian,” Lucas said. “I’ll take care of things here.  Is there anything in particular I should do?”

“As a matter of fact, there is.  See that Mr. Giroux’s money is refunded in full.” 

Vivian’s cream-colored face flushed red, and she wiped a single tear from her cheek before disappearing into the bar.  Once she was no longer visible, Julian stood up from the couch and helped me to do the same.  He went to a hidden panel in the foyer wall, and from it he produced a floor-length cape made of glossy, black fur and a matching muff.  He came over and put them both on me, taking care to secure the collar of the cape so I’d be protected from the cold.

After bidding Lucas a good evening he led me outside, down the porch steps, and over to a waiting stagecoach.  Two well-dressed Negroes were waiting beside it, and they helped both Julian and me into the cabin.  The two of them mounted their perch and gave the horses a flick with the reins.  Lanterns hung from the horses’ necks and lit our path as we clip-clopped our way around the plantation under the cover of night. We passed through the main gate and headed toward the city.

Neither Julian nor I said anything.  He sat on one bench, and I sat opposite him with my ankles crossed and my hands tucked into the muff on my lap.  The stagecoach provided such a smooth ride, and once the horses settled into a rhythm I was hard-pressed not to lull off to sleep.  We’d been riding for about an hour – in complete silence – when I noticed a soft glow of light that was increasing with each stride of the horses.  My interest was piqued, and I repositioned myself up on my knees so I could get a better look.