and two of them were gone. I trusted Beau, and giving him my name was like giving him a special part of me that no one else could get. Still, Hannah had helped me recover earlier in the afternoon, and she’d saved me from bearing the brunt of Vivian’s wrath.
“I’m Lily. I’d like it if you used my name, too.”
Vivian came into view a few seconds later, carrying a lantern.
She called us to attention before we were lined up in order and escorted out of the pavilion. We rounded the curve where the barn sat, and continued on until we turned left onto a dirt path that cut alongside the east side of the pond. The lantern Vivian was holding gave off just enough light for us to see our way.
“How much more walking you think we got?” asked Hannah, her teeth chattering loud enough to be heard. In the short time since supper, the wind had shifted and turned icy. Late December in southern Louisiana wasn’t ever warm, but it was bitingly cold that night. As a matter of fact, my thinly-shod feet almost slipped on the thin sheet of ice forming on the stairs of the manor’s porch.
The manor was a great big house set across the pond from the barn. When we’d first arrived at the plantation, the building wasn’t yet tall enough to be seen over the cane stalks. We’d always heard lots of commotion and carrying-on back off in that field, but of course none of us were so inclined to go find out what exactly was happening back there. All we knew was that from sun-up to sundown the sounds of construction echoed over the compound from back there. By the time mid-autumn came around, a shell of a building could be seen peeking up over the fields. In early December, the carpenter slaves finished building it – by late December, it was furnished and made ready for me and the other girls.
Ivory concrete encased the grand monstrosity known as Maison Devereaux. Several columns stood in front of the structure, giving it a stately appearance. There were two stories to the house, and the entire top floor was fronted by a balcony, creating an equally large porch for the bottom level. I counted twelve windows on the face of it, and I just knew the inside would be grand in size and beauty. It took only a few steps onto the porch and through the front door to discover that I hadn’t been at all wrong.
Upon entering the manor, we were led through a narrow corridor before stepping out into a foyer. It was completely quiet in there, save for Julian’s lazy whistling coming from the top of the staircase. He took a moment to look over each of us before descending the staircase slowly.
“Good evening,” he called to us when he’d almost reached the bottom step. “Welcome to your new home.”
Several gasps and whispers could be heard bouncing off the high ceilings of the palatial house. Julian looked down on all of us with pride, and clapped his hands together to silence us so we could listen to what he had to say.
“You’ve all earned your position here. I plan on running a classy establishment; one with superior women and select clientele. If you ladies hold up your end of the bargain, your life will be something you couldn’t ever have dreamed of.”
Oohs and aahs came from nearly every girl. The only one not impressed with the situation was me. Julian avoided eye contact with me, making great effort to look anywhere except for where I was standing. I was angry with him for distancing himself from me. Before earlier that afternoon, I hadn’t been anywhere near Julian since that day at his cottage. I’d changed so much since then, and even blamed him for what Caesar had done.
He took the final step down the stairs, hooked a sharp left, and walked over toward a dimly lit room fronted by mid-level swinging doors. I swiveled my head smoothly to the right, watching his every move. He had to know I was looking at him. However, he held on to his aloofness with minimal
“I’m Lily. I’d like it if you used my name, too.”
Vivian came into view a few seconds later, carrying a lantern.
She called us to attention before we were lined up in order and escorted out of the pavilion. We rounded the curve where the barn sat, and continued on until we turned left onto a dirt path that cut alongside the east side of the pond. The lantern Vivian was holding gave off just enough light for us to see our way.
“How much more walking you think we got?” asked Hannah, her teeth chattering loud enough to be heard. In the short time since supper, the wind had shifted and turned icy. Late December in southern Louisiana wasn’t ever warm, but it was bitingly cold that night. As a matter of fact, my thinly-shod feet almost slipped on the thin sheet of ice forming on the stairs of the manor’s porch.
The manor was a great big house set across the pond from the barn. When we’d first arrived at the plantation, the building wasn’t yet tall enough to be seen over the cane stalks. We’d always heard lots of commotion and carrying-on back off in that field, but of course none of us were so inclined to go find out what exactly was happening back there. All we knew was that from sun-up to sundown the sounds of construction echoed over the compound from back there. By the time mid-autumn came around, a shell of a building could be seen peeking up over the fields. In early December, the carpenter slaves finished building it – by late December, it was furnished and made ready for me and the other girls.
Ivory concrete encased the grand monstrosity known as Maison Devereaux. Several columns stood in front of the structure, giving it a stately appearance. There were two stories to the house, and the entire top floor was fronted by a balcony, creating an equally large porch for the bottom level. I counted twelve windows on the face of it, and I just knew the inside would be grand in size and beauty. It took only a few steps onto the porch and through the front door to discover that I hadn’t been at all wrong.
Upon entering the manor, we were led through a narrow corridor before stepping out into a foyer. It was completely quiet in there, save for Julian’s lazy whistling coming from the top of the staircase. He took a moment to look over each of us before descending the staircase slowly.
“Good evening,” he called to us when he’d almost reached the bottom step. “Welcome to your new home.”
Several gasps and whispers could be heard bouncing off the high ceilings of the palatial house. Julian looked down on all of us with pride, and clapped his hands together to silence us so we could listen to what he had to say.
“You’ve all earned your position here. I plan on running a classy establishment; one with superior women and select clientele. If you ladies hold up your end of the bargain, your life will be something you couldn’t ever have dreamed of.”
Oohs and aahs came from nearly every girl. The only one not impressed with the situation was me. Julian avoided eye contact with me, making great effort to look anywhere except for where I was standing. I was angry with him for distancing himself from me. Before earlier that afternoon, I hadn’t been anywhere near Julian since that day at his cottage. I’d changed so much since then, and even blamed him for what Caesar had done.
He took the final step down the stairs, hooked a sharp left, and walked over toward a dimly lit room fronted by mid-level swinging doors. I swiveled my head smoothly to the right, watching his every move. He had to know I was looking at him. However, he held on to his aloofness with minimal
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