Whiplash (7 page)

“Yes, of course you can Number 10.   Please forgive me.  Sometimes I forget what fine women Julian has purchased.”  She did a poor job of hiding the smirk on her lips before turning to leave the room.

At ten o’clock sharp, I arrived in the parlor. Eight of the other girls were already down there, and everyone had on a different colored robe. Vivian and Julian were there as well, whispering back and forth to each other.  We were instructed to fall into line according to number, and just as we’d settled into place, Hannah came barreling down the stairs in a pure white robe.  Her slight tardiness didn’t go unnoticed by any of us, but rather than lashing out punishment, Julian spoke to us instead.

“Well, now that we are all present, let’s get our affairs settled before it gets to be too late.”  He unmolded himself from his resting place next to the fireplace, lazily pulled off his suit jacket, and draped it carefully over the back of a nearby chaise. He looked down at the floor for a long moment, his hands resting low on his hips and causing the breadth of his shoulders to become more evident.

I couldn’t deny it to myself that Julian Devereaux was particularly appealing at that moment.  He’d always looked the same ever since I’d had the displeasure of making his acquaintance.  He had the same sandy-red hair, the same green eyes, the same smattering of pale freckles, and the same imposing, muscled frame.  But for the first time ever, I saw all that together for what it really was.  It was unyielding authority, power, and dominance.  Julian answered to no one – absolutely no one.  I think that is what really fascinated me about him, even though he was less than deserving of my approval.  It was a strange feeling, and I was unable to make sense of it.

Julian snapped out of his reverie at about the same time as I did.  Our eyes met for only a brief second before I diverted mine to the patterned rug the rest of the girls and I were standing on.

“As you’ve all been told before,” he began, “you ladies are here for the leisure and enjoyment of high-status gentlemen.  As such, you’ll each be given a name.” Julian took a pause to observe the looks of confusion sweeping across all the girls’ faces.

Vivian then retrieved a leather case from atop the mantle and handed it over to Julian.  He disengaged the locks on it and laid it open to reveal ten black, leather chokers – each adorned with a large gemstone. 

He picked up the first choker, bejeweled with a smooth, polished, black stone.  He slid the leather between his fingers and called Number 1 over to receive it.  She walked over to him, wearing a satin black robe, and stood in front of him expectantly.  Julian spun her around to face us then he pressed on her shoulder to lower her to the ground.  Kneeling, Number 1 instinctively pulled her kinky curls aside so Julian could affix the collar around her neck.

“Number 1, your name is Jet.  You may fall back into line.”  He held his hand out, and when Number 1 – or Jet, rather – saw it, she was unsure of what to do.  “Allow me to help you up,” Julian said. She placed her hand on top of his palm and he caught her under her elbow with his other hand, gently pulling her up to her feet.  She thanked him and then walked back to the line.

Julian picked up the next choker.  A pale green stone was on that one and Number 2 went over to him in her matching robe and received her collar. 

“Number 2, your name is Jade.”

“Thank you,” she said before returning to the line.

We continued on like that until every girl had a gem around her neck.  Numbers 1 through 8 were Jet, Jade, Opal, Coral, Amber, Emerald, Pearl, and Turquoise.  Each girl’s robe matched her gemstone perfectly, making it easier to remember the new names.  Hannah was named Crystal. I was the final girl to receive a new name… Ruby.

Chapter Five

That next morning at dawn, my eyes opened slowly and then snapped wide as I remembered my new surroundings; the lavish bed and matching drapes… the chaise… the cherrywood chifferobe,
filled
with exquisite clothing.  I was trapped in a beautiful nightmare, where all the things I’d never had were laid before me for the taking. 

Everything around me was designed to make me feel comfortable, but I’d never been more unsettled.  A shiver-inducing chill swept through my body at the thought of what I’d have to become in order to live such a life forever.  Rather than think about the loss of my pride and dignity, I buried myself deeper into my goose-down quilt and matching pillow.  The warmth was artificial and short lived.

Not yet willing to get out of bed, I turned onto my right side toward the window.  Through a narrow gap in the curtains, I could see that the ground outside was blanketed in snow, and there were still flakes falling from the sky.  Everything looked so renewed and pure; not like me at all.  As the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, its rays were refracted in the icicles clinging to the iron bars covering my window.  A beam of light shone through the space between the drapes and landed on a pair of bare feet.

A young dark-skinned girl, probably only about twelve years old, was sitting over in the high back chair, staring intently at me.  I sat up in the bed and looked around for something or someone to give me an indication of who she was.  When I didn’t see anything, I decided to ask her myself.  Twenty minutes later, I sat alone in my room, shocked by the information I’d received from the girl. 

Her name was Eliza, and she was only
eleven
years old.  She’d just been brought to the manor from the slave shack village.  She lived up in the attic of the manor - and she was my housegirl. 

Every morning, she’d bring up my breakfast and have it set on the table before I even woke up.  If I wished it, she’d bring up my other meals; if not, I could go down to the dining room and fetch my own food.  Her duties included but were not limited to: dressing me, braiding my hair, washing and steaming my clothes, bringing my food to my room, bed making, cleaning and oiling my furniture, sewing – there were too many things for her to name them all.  Basically, if I wanted or needed something, it was Eliza’s job to see to it.  She’d offered to help me bathe and dress for that day, but I sent her away.  The poor thing, she was remorseful and thought I’d deemed her inadequate.

After she’d gone, I laid back down in my bed, staring up at the chandelier on the ceiling.  I felt sick and disgusted – with Julian
and
myself.  I knew what it was to be a housegirl – always tending to someone else with never any time for self.  I didn’t want that for Eliza… I didn’t want that for
me
.  Sighing, I got out of bed and went to the washroom to ready myself.  I emerged feeling refreshed but not clean.    

I sensed the aroma of hot food somewhere nearby, and when I looked around the room I saw that someone – probably Eliza – had set several silver-domed trays on my table.  I went over and lifted the covers, completely surprised at what was under them. It was a glorious spread of croissants, pears, cheese, smoked meat, eggs, fig jam, and butter. To the left of the food were crystal carafes filled with orange juice, lemonade, and water.  To the left of that was a small pail packed full of fresh snow and it had a silver scoop jutting out of the top. On the other side of that were steaming kettles of tea and coffee, as well as a little, silver tray of accoutrements – sugar, cream, lemon, and mint leaves. 

After putting on a housedress and matching slippers, I went and drew the curtains back all the way.  I could see the entire plantation from my window.  The field slaves were out there already laboring in clothes that couldn’t possibly have protected them from the cold.  I saw several of them shivering and making haste with their work, unsuccessfully trying to stay warm.  A sinking feeling hit my stomach, and I fell down to the ground and cried for a few minutes before going back over to the table.

I’d been eating for about ten minutes when I saw Beau making his way across the courtyard.  He and about six or seven other field slaves were on their way to the pavilion to eat.  They walked in a tight cluster, all with their heads ducked down against the icy wind, just trying to stay warm enough to make it to where there was, I hoped, something hot to eat and drink.  Beau was leading the pack, his broad, strong body providing the men walking behind him a slight reprieve.  I followed them with my eyes until they made it to the pavilion. 

It was then that I knew what I would do to fill my days, and I quickly finished up my breakfast, tucked away a few pieces of meat, cheese, and bread for Eliza, and exited my room on my way down to the sitting room.

When I got down there, several of the girls were already there. Coral was sitting on a chaise in a sun-lit corner, reading.  Pearl and Opal were playing a game of checkers on a petite tea table set between two small settees.  Jet was playing cards alone on a rug in front of the fireplace.  Each of the girls offered a nod in greeting as I entered the room and made my way to a wicker basket that was filled with all kinds of yarns and fabrics.  I took what I needed and went back up to my room without a word to anyone. It’s not that I didn’t want to stay and interact with the other girls, I just wanted to be alone in my room.

I ran into Hannah on the stairs as she was coming down.  She smiled and greeted me by my manor name.  I didn’t like it – I’d told her my real name for a reason, and her not using it was like an insult to me.

“Hannah, why’d you call me Ruby?”

“That’s your name now – and mine’s Crystal.”

“Noooo… It’s Hannah.  That’s what your name was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day bef-.”

“Well… today’s a new day, isn’t it?”  Then she sidestepped me and went downstairs to do whatever she wanted, I guess. 

Being around the girls for so long while living in the barn had begun to change me, and I could feel it.  I could sense the fight leaving my spirit, as collectively we’d all banded together to cooperate with Vivian’s and Julian’s demands.   Since we didn’t have to struggle to survive anymore, I had to make a conscious effort to maintain my sense of self. As crazy of an idea as it was, I actually felt better about myself when I had to fight to want to live another day.  Hannah, or
Crystal
, must have felt the opposite.  Her life was good as Crystal, and being called Hannah must have made her feel undeserving of such privilege.

I finished climbing the stairs and closed myself in my room.  The tray of food was gone, and I was glad that I’d had the forethought to put some aside for Eliza.  I didn’t know exactly what her life was like when she wasn’t with me, but if it were anything like my days as a housegirl, then she’d need the extra food for strength. 

A few hours passed quickly, and it was just as I was preparing to head downstairs to the dining room for lunch that I heard raised voices coming from in there.  As I descended the stairwell the voices became clearer. One was faintly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. The other was definitely Vivian’s.

“You’ll tell me where she is Vivian, or else!”

“And just who do you think you are to just come in here demanding to see one of my girls?  Whether you like it or not,
I
am in charge here, Miss Devereaux, not you!”

Miss Devereaux?
  It puzzled me…who Vivian could be speaking to in such a manner.  Anyone with that last name must surely have been able to pull rank over the likes of Vivian.  I stopped on the next-to-last step.  Stretching my body as far as it would go, I peeked around the corner to try and see who was causing the commotion.  I saw Vivian, her back turned to me and fists clenched at her sides.  When she shifted to the right, I got a clear line of sight to the source of the other voice.

“Colette!”  I gasped before I could stop myself.  I tried to duck back around the corner quickly, but it was no use. Vivian had already seen me, and she was none too happy about it.

“Ruby, get back up to your room this instant,” Vivian barked at me from around the corner.  I spun around and was halfway back up the stairs when I heard a scuffle followed by a loud slap.  The sound of metal and glass crashing to the floor resounded throughout the entire manor.  I ran the rest of the way up the stairwell, frantically waving the girls who had come out into the hallway back into their rooms.  I’d made it to my door, and had it pushed open when I felt the weight of someone behind me, shoving me over the threshold and into the room.  When I gained my footing and spun around, Colette was slamming my door shut.

“We don’t have much time,” Colette whispered hurriedly. “I’m not here to cause trouble for you.  I want to help you.  Julian…he’s unlike other men.  He’ll try and break you, and you’ll let him.  You can’t allow him to get too close.  You can’t trust him, even though you’ll want to.”

I didn’t know what to believe.  I didn’t know what to do.  All I knew was that I didn’t want to make my life any more complicated than it was at that point.

“I think it’s best you go on about your way now, Miss Colette.  I don’t want any trouble for me or you.  Please…just leave me alone.” 

I turned and went into my washroom, closing the door behind me.  When I came back out, Colette was gone and Vivian was sitting on my bed with a swollen eye and a busted lip.  Without thinking, I went back into my washroom and made a wet cloth for her.  She thanked me, dabbing the cloth against her face to clean off the blood before speaking to me.

“Ruby,” she croaked, “don’t let me catch you speaking to Colette Devereaux ever again.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.”

“Miss Vivian, who is she?”

She didn’t respond right away – at least not with words, but her eyes did tear up and she wiped them away quickly with the lacey cuff of her sleeve.    She never did answer my question.  Instead she said, “Let’s just get you dressed now, Ruby.  You’ve got a long night ahead of you, alright?” 

A second later, a knock sounded through the door and Vivian granted access with a command to come in.  It was Eliza, ready to help me dress for the evening.  Vivian was the one to send her away that time, volunteering to dress and groom me herself.  She picked out a red, satin ballgown.  It had long, arm-hugging sleeves that were embellished with a black, lace ruffle at the cuff.  More black lace provided a backdrop for a red satin ribbon that criss-crossed its way up the bodice of the dress before cinching into a bow below the bust line.

After dressing and styling me, Vivian handed me a piece of paper with the protocols listed on it.  There were certain
things
we had to do for our suitors upon selection, and I read over them more than once to make sure I fully understood them.

I studied myself in the mirror during the few minutes before seven. My dress was dazzling and magnificent, and I knew once I went downstairs wearing it, there’d be no going back to Lily.  She would perish in a crimson sea of fabric only to be replaced by Ruby.  Ruby was a woman with an uncertain future.  More importantly, Ruby had no past.  The woman who serviced those men in that house would have to be a far cry from the woman who’d arrived at Devereaux Plantation less than a year prior. 

Nothing about Lily mattered anymore, not even her name.  I’d trusted Hannah with it, and she’d thrown it away without a second thought.  So, I put Lily away where no one could ever hurt her again, fastened Ruby’s choker around her neck, and headed downstairs.