Whiplash (11 page)

The path under our coach switched from dirt to a cobblestone street, and within a quarter mile all types of people, houses, and shops appeared along the curb.  A sign that read ‘New Orleans’  welcomed us into town, and I stared wide-eyed in wonderment at my surroundings, trying to take in as much of it as I could.

I wasn’t able to hide my excitement, and when I turned around to look at Julian he was smiling back at me, obviously pleased with my delight.  Never had I been so happy – not in all of my twenty four years – and Julian was responsible for it all.  True, he was also responsible for my imprisonment, but the worst of that was over.  If all I had to do was Julian’s bidding for one year, then I already considered myself a free woman – and technically, I was.

“Thank you, Master.”

              I didn’t expect him to respond to that, so I wasn’t at all disappointed when he didn’t.  I just wanted him to know that I was appreciative.  I knew people would’ve questioned my sanity and loyalty if my feelings were ever discovered.  I couldn’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same thing.  It was just one of those situations where you couldn’t possibly know what you’d do until you had the chance to actually make a choice. 

That night was my first experience at feeling human.  All my life I’d been referred to as lots of things.  Slave, nigger, animal, bitch, whore, pig… Number 10… Ruby - all of those were words used when talking to or about Lily.  I never admitted to myself that I believed any of what white folks and Negroes like Vivian said to me, but deep inside me I knew that I had to have been affected in some way.

I never smiled, laughed, or hoped anymore.  Life
was
what it
was
, and I could either do it my way or the easy way.  My main struggle in life had always been survival, and so I’d decided as a child to do
that
the smart way.  When Julian afforded me an opportunity to do that, there’d have been no way to rationalize a declination.  The greater my pride, the harder it’d be to swallow.

Chapter Ten

The venue that our coach halted in front of was simply outrageous.  The massive edifice occupied nearly half the block.  Dozens of hitching posts had the most extravagant and luxurious stagecoaches imaginable tethered to them.  Each one was being guarded by a couple of Negro men, at least one of them armed with a gun of some sort. 

“Ruby?” 

Julian’s sudden speech startled me, and I gave a quiet yelp.  My heart did flips at the sound of his deep chuckle, but I feigned indifference even as I was hoping he’d do it again.

“Yes, Master?”

“Once we’re inside, be sure to stick close to me.  It’s imperative that people understand that
you
are here with
me. 
And another thing, Ruby…”

“What is it, Master?”

“Don’t address me in that manner anymore – Master, I mean.  You’re a free woman by the world’s standards, and that’s earned you the right to call me Julian.  Besides, I don’t want anyone in there to think any less of you than I do.”

“I understand.”

“You understand, what?”

“I understand… Julian.”

“Very good – now put this on.” 

In his hand was a mask only big enough to cover the upper half of my face.  The eyeholes were each embroidered with a ruby-encrusted ribbon that extended out past the edge of the mask.  The mask itself was wrapped in black satin, dotted sporadically with petite diamonds.  I pressed the sparkling disguise up against my face and turned my head so Julian could secure it behind my head.

“You look lovely, Ruby,” he said when he saw me with the mask in place.

“Thank you, Julian,” I replied with genuine coyness.  I slipped my shaking hands back into my muff, and watched and waited while he applied his own mask which was similar in style to mine.  The red intensified the fieriness of his hair and the verdancy of his eyes.  He looked very handsome, and I told him as much.

“Are you ready?” he asked gently.

“Yes… Yes I’m ready, Julian.” 

A second later the door to our coach was opened, and two fair-skinned Negroes stood there waiting to help us get out of the cabin.  Julian waved them off and climbed out first, and then he turned and offered me his hand.  I removed my right hand from the muff and placed it onto his upturned palm.  Carefully, I placed my foot on the ladder of the stagecoach and began my descent toward the ground.

Julian tightened his grip on my hand and, with surprising strength and deftness, pulled me right out of the coach and onto the front of him.  His right hand came to rest on my lower back, and for longer than was probably necessary, he held me close and tightly.  He lowered me down to the ground slowly, keeping his hand at the small of my back until I’d gained my footing and righted my clothing.  With our arms interlocked at the elbow, we ambled gracefully up the sidewalk and into the building.

A string quartet played sprightly music over on one side of the foyer, and on the right side four valets were taking people’s coats and hats.  Small cliques of guests were scattered around the room, each engaged in their own discussions.  One by one, the groups of people ceased conversing as they all took note of Julian’s presence.  He gave my arm a tug, and together we strode over to the valets who were already waiting for Julian with outstretched hands.

“Good evening, Mr. Devereaux,” said the youngest of the four as he took Julian’s overcoat and hung it on a shiny, brass hook.

“Silas… it’s a pleasure to see you as always.  Looks like you’ve grown since the last engagement.  No one would ever believe you to be only fourteen years old.”

“Fifteen, sir,” Silas corrected good naturedly.

“Of course – my apologies,” Julian jested in response.  He pulled out a monetary note and gave it to Silas. 

The boy gratefully took it and tucked it away in his pant pocket.  His clothes appeared to be tailored to him, and his hands didn’t look like they’d ever been put through a day’s worth of labor.  His three associates looked to be of approximately the same age, were of the same light complexion, and all had hands that were free of calluses.  My guess was that the four of them had always served close to their Master.

I unhooked my arm from Julian’s and handed my muff over to Silas.  He placed it in a cubbyhole, and after I’d untied my cape and given it to him he draped it over a hook set adjacent to the one which housed Julian’s coat.  Neither Silas nor the other valets seemed curious about my accompanying Julian.  In fact, no one had given me a second glance; everyone had been focused only on Julian.

After Julian and Silas exchanged a few more words, Julian took my hand and led us into the grand ballroom.  It was in there that I realized why nobody was concerned about my presence.  There were hundreds of people in the room talking and drinking, and about one third of them were black. 

Some were companions to white men or women, but a goodly portion of them were coupled with another Negro.  They looked just as well-off and privileged as anyone else there, all dressed in fine linens and silks.  Their jewels sparkled brilliantly in the light of the lanterns mounted on the walls, and they drank and ate little cakes and hors d’oeuvres from the same silver trays as the white folks did.  It was amazing to me – that there existed people who looked like me, but were treated so differently.

Julian handed me a crystal flute filled with cold, bubbling wine.  It was clear and pale-pink in color – almost too pretty to drink.  Julian drank and finished his in a couple of swallows and then turned to me with a quizzical look on his face.

“Aren’t you going to drink yours?  I think you’ll find you like it very much.”

I raised the slender glass to my lips and tipped it, causing the bubbles to rise to the top and burst under my nose, tickling it lightly.  I spluttered into wine, spilling some of it on the bodice of my gown.  Julian was quick to pull out his handkerchief for me to use, but he’d already had a few giggles at my expense.  Still with a smile on his face, he wiped my chin and patted the droplets from my dress.

“I’m so embarrassed!” I whispered excitedly.  I was quite sure that at least
one
person had seen my faux pas.  My nerves were all standing on edge, and I’d been uncomfortable with the whole scenario ever since we’d arrived.

“There’s no cause for your shame, Ruby.  You’re with me, and anyone of any consequence knows that I’d never keep the company of someone unworthy of mine.  Come. I’ll take you to the lavatory.”  He set our glasses down on a nearby table, and we walked out of the main hall and down a long corridor. 

Several small clusters of chatty women were lined up against the right wall of the hallway, and on the left were who I’d presumed to be their respective escorts, also gathered in huddles and engaging in jovial banter.  Both sets of people, I noticed, were staring only at me. The women’s envy-filled eyes belied their smiles, and most of the men didn’t even bother attempting to hide the lust in theirs.  An uneasy feeling came over me, and Julian hadn’t been so oblivious as to miss the growing tension in my body.  He took my hand in his and interlaced our fingers, instantly calming me.

He walked me right up to the door of the lavatory and opened it for me.  Grateful for not having to spend more time in the hallway than was absolutely necessary, I shuffled through the open door and let Julian push it closed behind me.  I released a breath that’d been trapped in my lungs for the whole trip through the corridor.  Finally with a moment to myself, I took a few minutes to gather my wits and regain my composure.

Over at the basin were little stacks of hand towels and a silver tray covered with small bottles of perfume.  After dampening a towel and de-staining my dress, I found a fragrance I felt suited me and applied a little bit behind each ear.  My skin warmed the cool, volatile liquid, and its warm aroma wrapped itself around my head and filled my nostrils.  I examined my reflection in the mirror – I looked beautiful.  A smile played over my lips as I began to twist back and forth, causing the oil lamps to trigger my gown’s iridescence. 

I’d just regained my confidence when a door on one of the private stalls opened up behind me.  I couldn’t make out a face behind the mask, but I instantly recognized that golden hair and pink dress.  I stood there like a statue while the woman stalked over to stand right beside me, close enough for her skirt to rustle against mine. 

Her cobalt blue eyes blazed at me from behind her silver, feathered mask.  Her gloved hands were clasped together and hung down in front of her, resting on the skirt of her gown.  Her blood-red lips unfurled from between her teeth and curled up into a sneer.  After a few more moments of tense silence, she spoke.

“So, you’re here with
Julian
, are you…”  It wasn’t a question - just an observation she’d chosen to verbalize.  “Well, I declare… I never would’ve imagined, not in a million years, that he’d have ever passed over me for a nigger gal.  Rather lovely you are I suppose, but let’s not kid ourselves my dear… dear… I’m sorry, what
is
your name?” she asked with mocking interest. 

I didn’t respond to her inquiry.  Instead, I let her grow agitated with my indifference.

“Oh, never mind.  I don’t reckon that to be pertinent anyway. It’s probably better if I take a different approach with you.  Do you know who
I
am?” 

“
Yes
, I do.  You’re the woman that left Julian’s manor in fits this afternoon.  I can’t say that I really know you, however.  I’m afraid Julian has yet to mention you even once.  Please do enlighten me - I want to be sure to use the correct name when I give Julian your regards.”  Her jaw dropped open, and she slowly swiveled her head to the left to look directly at me.

“You’ll do well to remember who I am, you bitch.  My
name
is Tessa Fairchild. I’m Julian’s fiancée, but only until our nuptials next month.  I suggest you commit my name to memory, because I can promise you this won’t be the last time you’ll hear it.”

“You may be right, but if your behavior tonight is any indication of your everyday manner, I can’t possibly imagine that Julian would attest to having ever made your acquaintance.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a prize of a man right outside waiting for me, and I’m not in the business of disappointing him.  You have yourself a pleasant evening,
Miss
Fairchild.”  I smiled without showing my teeth, batted my lashes mockingly at her, and then sidestepped to make my way to the door.

Tessa spun abruptly, her left arm flailing out to connect with my face.  I ducked her wild swing, and thwarted her efforts with a fist to her midsection and a backhand to her cheek.  I left her sprawled out on the floor, buried under layers of pink chiffon.  I turned the door handle and pushed it open to find Julian standing there leaning against the wall on one shoulder, waiting just for me.  He saw that I was flustered, and when he asked me about it I told him I’d gotten sick in the washroom and needed to be taken home – immediately.

He wasted no words, and within a few minutes we were in the stagecoach on our way back to the plantation.  The ride home was awkward, and our proximity on the bench of the cabin felt forced.  I knew Julian hadn’t believed the story of my supposed illness, but if he was content not to discuss it at that point in time, then I’d no reason to suggest otherwise.  

We passed through the gate of the property and stopped in front of Julian’s cottage.  He reached over and gathered my hand in his, examining my swollen knuckles.  Employing my peripheral vision, I saw Julian look up and at my face, his mouth set in a tight line under the nose of his mask.  He stroked my bruised hand gently before placing it gingerly back onto my lap.

“Are you sure you’re alright?  Shall I fetch a nurse to tend to you?” he asked.

“No, Julian.  I’m quite alright.  I’m just a little…tired.  I’m sure I’ll feel much better once I get back to the manor.”

“Would you rather stay with me?” 

His question took me by complete surprise, and I had no idea of what my answer should be.  I wasn’t so obtuse that I couldn’t surmise what his intentions were.  I’d known when I signed those papers that sooner or later Julian would take what he wanted of my flesh.  I just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon after the onset of our agreement. 

I guess there’d been a small part of me that actually thought my service as strictly his companion would suffice.  I’d wanted to believe that he was different than anyone -
everyone
else.  Yet and still I had a choice to make, and my decision probably changed the course of my life in such a way that there’d be no going back to the crossroads.

“Do you trust me, Ruby?” Julian asked when I didn’t answer after a full minute.

I thought long and hard about that.  Mama, I’d trusted.  Mercy, I’d trusted.  Beau, I trusted and even Hannah had earned that privilege.  Julian didn’t even know my real name, and that had to count for something.  I gave Julian the answer I thought he wanted – an honest one.

“No, Julian…I don’t.  But…I’d rather stay with you anyway.”