Read Online With One Look by Jennifer Horsman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Horsman
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very well for his protection."
Jade stiffened, her thoughts tumbling with confusion and incredulity over this world gone mad. "She said she will be happy to kill the old woman if I do not prostitute myself tonight, doing exactly as she commands. So! I said do you think I can believe this? That you will not kill Maydrian? For how can you ever let her go now? She would go straight to the convent.
"Then, dear Lord, Maydrian started screaming again and the Madame laughed when I started screaming to stop it. She says she will never let Maydrian go, that she would let her continue serving me in my new position and whether or not the dear old woman had a good day or a difficult one would depend entirely on my obedience." Panicked breaths came fast and hard. "She can't do this to me, she can't. I've got to save Maydrian! I've got to get out of here. I must escape—"
Mercedes pulled back, her hands holding Jade's shoulders for support. "Jade Terese, there is no escape. The house is full of her servants, posted at every door every hour of the day. There are women who have been here for years and have not found a way to escape."
"How can that be? I don't believe you!"
"You must. I beg you." In an impassioned whisper she said, "The Madame is a dangerous woman; a beast lives inside her. She would make you beg for death over and over before she'd ever grant you the mercy. I have seen this. Many, many times."
"She murders people?"
Mercedes paused, unwilling to discuss details. She had been here three years, and in that time she knew of four slaves who had disappeared, and two of the women. And only once was attention called to the hideousness of the Madame's evil: when one poor little girl leaped from the rooftop to escape the Madame's punishment.
Mercedes did not want this to happen to Jade.
Something alerted Jade to the magnitude of this implausible and yet all too horrifying reality. She reached a hand to Mercedes's face. Slowly her fingers found the tense lines of fear etched in Mercedes's forehead, the slight tremble of her lips. She felt Mercedes's pain, bought by her unnatural existence here. She felt the young woman's terrible longing to escape.
Unanswered desire. Mother Francesca said the unanswered desire is Satan's torment, the worst fate, and until she'd felt the magnitude of Mercedes's longing, she had not fully grasped what this had meant.
"What about you? How long have you been here?" "Three years now. And one month, five days."
The words hung heavily in the silence. "Were you brought here by force as well?" "Yes." Mercedes stood up suddenly.
Jade heard her trembling sigh. She had turned away, putting her back to where Jade sat as if to hide her emotions, while mentally debating what to say. "I was born on Saint Dominique," she began in a changed voice, one curiously devoid of emotion. For to court the emotions behind her words felt more dangerous than a descent to Madame's basement. "My family was wealthy. I grew up in a beautiful plantation house. We called it Belle Saint Bleu. It was, I'm afraid, the last place I knew happiness. ...
" 'Twas a large airy house that sat on a high cliff overlooking the sea. Sometimes if I close my eyes and remember, I can feel the salt breeze blowing through my bedroom windows, and I see a stretch of the crystal-blue sea and white sand beach, edged by row after row of sugarcane and the lush green jungle beyond.
"I was ten when my papa sent me to a convent in faraway Montparnasse in Paris. I had rarely been off our land, never once off the island, and after the long voyage, I found Paris so large and strange, noisy and filthy. I was not happy there. I was used to a lush green island, the beautiful sea, to going barefoot and riding my pony on the white sand beaches beneath a tropical sun. The other girls singled me out for my accent, and difference. I was so lonely there! I was allowed one letter home each month. Every faithful letter I sent begged my father to let me come home.
Jade stiffened, her thoughts tumbling with confusion and incredulity over this world gone mad. "She said she will be happy to kill the old woman if I do not prostitute myself tonight, doing exactly as she commands. So! I said do you think I can believe this? That you will not kill Maydrian? For how can you ever let her go now? She would go straight to the convent.
"Then, dear Lord, Maydrian started screaming again and the Madame laughed when I started screaming to stop it. She says she will never let Maydrian go, that she would let her continue serving me in my new position and whether or not the dear old woman had a good day or a difficult one would depend entirely on my obedience." Panicked breaths came fast and hard. "She can't do this to me, she can't. I've got to save Maydrian! I've got to get out of here. I must escape—"
Mercedes pulled back, her hands holding Jade's shoulders for support. "Jade Terese, there is no escape. The house is full of her servants, posted at every door every hour of the day. There are women who have been here for years and have not found a way to escape."
"How can that be? I don't believe you!"
"You must. I beg you." In an impassioned whisper she said, "The Madame is a dangerous woman; a beast lives inside her. She would make you beg for death over and over before she'd ever grant you the mercy. I have seen this. Many, many times."
"She murders people?"
Mercedes paused, unwilling to discuss details. She had been here three years, and in that time she knew of four slaves who had disappeared, and two of the women. And only once was attention called to the hideousness of the Madame's evil: when one poor little girl leaped from the rooftop to escape the Madame's punishment.
Mercedes did not want this to happen to Jade.
Something alerted Jade to the magnitude of this implausible and yet all too horrifying reality. She reached a hand to Mercedes's face. Slowly her fingers found the tense lines of fear etched in Mercedes's forehead, the slight tremble of her lips. She felt Mercedes's pain, bought by her unnatural existence here. She felt the young woman's terrible longing to escape.
Unanswered desire. Mother Francesca said the unanswered desire is Satan's torment, the worst fate, and until she'd felt the magnitude of Mercedes's longing, she had not fully grasped what this had meant.
"What about you? How long have you been here?" "Three years now. And one month, five days."
The words hung heavily in the silence. "Were you brought here by force as well?" "Yes." Mercedes stood up suddenly.
Jade heard her trembling sigh. She had turned away, putting her back to where Jade sat as if to hide her emotions, while mentally debating what to say. "I was born on Saint Dominique," she began in a changed voice, one curiously devoid of emotion. For to court the emotions behind her words felt more dangerous than a descent to Madame's basement. "My family was wealthy. I grew up in a beautiful plantation house. We called it Belle Saint Bleu. It was, I'm afraid, the last place I knew happiness. ...
" 'Twas a large airy house that sat on a high cliff overlooking the sea. Sometimes if I close my eyes and remember, I can feel the salt breeze blowing through my bedroom windows, and I see a stretch of the crystal-blue sea and white sand beach, edged by row after row of sugarcane and the lush green jungle beyond.
"I was ten when my papa sent me to a convent in faraway Montparnasse in Paris. I had rarely been off our land, never once off the island, and after the long voyage, I found Paris so large and strange, noisy and filthy. I was not happy there. I was used to a lush green island, the beautiful sea, to going barefoot and riding my pony on the white sand beaches beneath a tropical sun. The other girls singled me out for my accent, and difference. I was so lonely there! I was allowed one letter home each month. Every faithful letter I sent begged my father to let me come home.
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