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“Never,” I said emphatically. “I’m simply stating a fact.”
“Nathan was beneath her,” she snapped. “She wouldn’t have fallen for his charms had you remained here.”
“In my experience, when love takes hold of someone, it doesn’t matter who is in the room. That person has eyes for one and that one only.”
She leaned back a bit and studied me through gray eyes. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” she said with a slow smile. “All this silliness...this going back and forth, you and I. It’s child’s play, and proof that you’re trying very hard to avoid your responsibilities. But I won’t let you. Youwillmarry Elizabeth, imperfections and all.”
“You’re assuming she wants to do the same.”
“She does,” she insisted. “I know my daughter and I know what she wants. Of course, she has every man in Louisiana falling at her feet. But I’m not interested in having some commoner walk through these doors. I’ve managed to marry all three of my daughters off to good men, and Elizabeth will be no different, especially this second time around. I want the best for her despite what you did. You see, I know why you left here. It was to spite your father for selling that nigra wench. I was disgusted with you when I learned of it. But then, you were young and stupid...like most men at that age. Hopefully, you’ll prove to be a smarter man this time around.”
With that, she stood up quickly before I had a chance to respond and strode out of the room, her back straight and proud.
And so it was, in the summer of 1856, that Elizabeth and I married. Despite the doubts, we did what we could to preserve the love and respect we had for one another, and entertained friends and family, attended horse races, plays, operas and balls and made long trips to Natchez, Mississippi. We managed to remain happy by agreeing to never speak of the past. This promise, and others made, helped us to form what was, I believed, a solid bond.
ELIZABETH
“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.”
—Lucio in “Measure for Measure”byWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616)
Chapter Thirteen
It had been a particularly trying day on the plantation and all I wanted to do was climb into bed and relax. Elizabeth, for her part, was tense as well as she prepared for bed. For weeks, I had witnessed her struggle with her new role as Bellevue’s mistress. She was having difficulty managing the daily affairs of the household and the strain was beginning to show. At least twice a week, she would fail to rise in time for breakfast, lying in bed late while her breakfast grew cold, an indulgence she no doubt partook in for years as a young girl. And although she was an educated young woman who could read, write and sew, Elizabeth was spoiled.
Despite the rigors of plantation life, Elizabeth and I made a promise to never let bad feelings enter the bedroom. For in the quiet of the night, she gave herself to me, and I, her. Our desires knew no bounds and we made love several times a week and well into the night. We were insatiable, our hunger for love going beyond the feelings we had for one another. There was almost a desperation in our passion, a need so great that it surpassed our imaginations. Neither one of us spoke it, but through our lovemaking, we played out various fantasies and created paradise in the chaos that had once been our pasts. We were finding fulfillment in one another, all the while longing for the lovers who were taken from us too early.
As I watched Elizabeth brush her hair in the mirror, I felt myself harden. She looked soft and vulnerable and smelled of beautiful perfume. Her long, blond hair flowed sensually down her back and I begin to imagine it flowing in my face as she moved on top of me. I wanted to be inside her and I began to undress. Soon, I was upon her, running my hands down the length of her body.
“I’ll come to bed soon,” she said in a curt tone.
I stopped. “Is everything alright?”
She met my gaze in the mirror. “You really want to discuss it now?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know,” I assured her.
Elizabeth hesitated a bit and put down her brush. “Running this plantation...sometimes it’s all a bit too much,” she confessed. “It’s one thing to be brought up as a child in the main house. It’s completely different when you’re running your own. No matter what you’re taught growing up, you can never be fully prepared. And the nigras, they’re sodifficult. I don’t mean to yell at them, but they never listen. And that Lizzie, in particular, she always likes to test me.”
“Try to exercise a little patience,” I said to her gently. “They’re trying very hard to please you. I want to please you.”
Her expression immediately softened and she rose to hug me.
“I love you,” she said, as tears formed in her eyes.
“And I love you.”
The tension began to melt away as we gave each other soft kisses. I took a handful of her hair and tilted her head back, running my tongue ever so gently across her sweet skin. She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes as I gently removed the silk robe from her shoulders and watched it fall to the floor. She leaned into me as more kisses were placed on her neck and shoulders.
“Thomas...”
I soon found her nipples and stroked the tips of them with the edge of my tongue. She was in ecstasy and dropped her brush to the floor. I loved the sounds she made and wanted her to make more. With her hunger rising, she stepped back and sat down in the chair. She reached for me and put my throbbing sex in her mouth. She encircled me with both her hands and begin to suck me, ever so slowly at first and then faster as time passed. The sensations begin to overtake me and I watched her as she engulfed me and teased me with her tongue again and again. She took my hand and placed it on her head, a sign that she wanted me to make her take it. I groaned from deep within as I felt myself come to the edge. The orgasm was intense and powerful and seemed to last for several minutes. Weak from pleasure, I collapsed on the floor with my head in her lap.
Sometime during the night, I found her again and brought her to ecstasy. We clung desperately to each other and turned whatever inhibitions we had into something intense and powerful. In the end, that’s all we could do.
Chapter Fourteen
The morning had started off quite simply for Elizabeth. She had bathed, powdered and dressed all with the help of two house slaves, including Fannie. She looked at herself in the mirror and was pleased. They did a fine job on fixing her hair exactly the way she liked. Even the plain, but stylish cotton dress felt right. Elizabeth was now ready for breakfast. As she reached for the shawl that was laid out on bed, she sucked in her breath. There was a small but noticeable stain on the coverlet.What is wrong with these niggers? Can’t they do anything right?
