The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-

Chapter Thirty Two

Arianna set down the novel as a single knock sounded upon the cabin door. She leapt to her feet and retrieved the pistol Thomas had left her.

"Don't shoot, it's me. My hands are full, please open the door." Thomas called from the hallway. Arianna smiled and moved to the portal, pulling it wide so that he could enter, the pistol still in her free hand just in case. But no bigger threat than a cabin boy with a bottle of wine and two glasses, followed Thomas as he stepped into the room, carrying a tray laden with covered dishes. Thomas deposited his tray on the table, he took the wine and glasses from the cabin boy, dismissing him with a tip.

As the boy shut the door behind him, Thomas pulled the bolt, locking the cabin door. Unease crept into the corners of Arianna's mind. Though Thomas had been a perfect gentleman so far, she did not know him. But when he turned to her, there was a childish glint in his eye, that had her wondering at his age, and once again, at ease for the moment, with the fact that he meant no harm to her.

"I stole a bottle of the Admiral's best wine. He never drinks it, but he will still fly into a tirade when he finds it gone."

Arianna laughed, an enemy of an enemy certainly was a friend. "As much as I love the idea, is it wise to test him?"

"Aye." Thomas smiled at her, as he uncorked the wine bottle with a pop, "He could use a lesson in humility. Though losing two teeth to a girl hurt his pride, he is not yet humbled."

Arianna accepted the glass he handed her and sampled the wine. It was tart and cold, truly an excellent change from the stale water she had become accustomed to.

"Now, I was hoping we could come to an agreement between the two of us. You need me to keep you safe and alive, and though I will not ask you to be intimate with me, there is something that you are in a position to help me with. Would you be interested in discussing it with me over lunch?"

"I suppose there is no harm in hearing you out."

"Excellent. Now, I must warn you, there are things I am going to tell you that must never be repeated. Will you give your word that no matter what your decision is, you will never speak of this conversation?"

Arianna gave him a strange look. He was quite serious. She was extremely curious as to what it was that he wanted to discuss that she could only answer in one way.

"You have my word."

"Good. Then let us eat."

*****

Carmelita wiped the sweat from her brow with her apron and picked up her cleaning supplies. She reeked of the beeswax she had polished the floors of the great hall with. 'Twas a tedious chore, and should not have been hers this week, but Margaret was still down from having the baby and Carmelita had not had the heart to ask any of the others for help. They worked themselves into early graves as it was.

The running of an estate this size should require more than a hundred people to keep the house, the grounds, and the orchard, but there were now only sixty slaves to complete all the work. And unlike servants, the fact that they were slaves made everything extremely dire, for should a chore go uncompleted, every slave assigned to the offended area would be punished severely. The male slaves had it bad, with beatings and whippings being the standard punishment. But the female slaves had it worse.

When they were punished, his lordship took them down to the dungeons, stripped them of their clothes, chained their arms to the wall, or ceiling, and did unspeakable things that made visible bruises and scars seem much more appealing. The scars left inside of many of the slave women's bodies and souls might never heal. Carmelita had been in the dungeons a few times herself and she shuddered with the sickening memories.

Carmelita ran the big house, organizing all the slaves that worked under her. They were a team and worked well together most of the time. It was hard when someone was unable to perform their duties, his lordship did not allow breaks for any reason even after punishments, the slaves were sent immediately back to work. If someone needed time off, the others had to fill in to cover the loss of help.

Carmelita usually put in long days, rising from her bed hours before sunrise and only returning there long after the sun had set. At the present moment, she needed to ensure that lunch had been set, as his lordship was already late. She crossed to the dining room and opened the door to peek inside. Everything was as it should be. With a smile on her face, she turned to make her way to the kitchens, when the front door swung open.

His lordship came barging in with an angry stomp to his step. A pebble stuck to the bottom of his boot sent his foot flying out from underneath him on the freshly waxed floor and his legs split wide as he tumbled to the floor with a yell. Carmelita winced, knowing he would blame this on her.

"Damn it! Who used too much wax on this floor?! I want the one responsible delivered to me now!" He bellowed as he righted himself. The kitchen slaves peeked out around the doors, wide eyed, yet curious.

Carmelita stepped more fully into the hallway before his lordship, her hands folded before her and her face downcast. "'Twas I, my lord. I had just finished waxing a moment ago. The wax was still damp when..."

"I care not for your excuses, woman!" He bellowed, his face flushing scarlet. "Await me in the dungeons, I shall deal with you after luncheon."

"Aye, your lordship." She turned, and made her way to the dungeons, not wiping the tears from her eyes until she had made the hallway.