In Dire Need of Cessation

P R E F A C E

Early 1700s

"Mistress Staunton!" my handmaid bellows as I parade through the corridors of Staunton Plantation House. My fellow acquaintance, also an unfortunate slave, has enlightened me of my husband's company, who is ostensibly using particular services in mine and his chamber. It is not the first time I have been suspicious (bold red lipstick was planted on William's neck, covering his light skin repeatedly. It was as if a canine had been attacking him, hounding, barking, and growling for my husband's neck. William looked at me, wide eyes with a shocked visage on display. My loyal husband had not expected me home so early. Usually, the church would need my assistance until, at least, three hours past noon; however, not today as I had lightly declined the offer of aiding Sister Julianna in her mission of feeding the infants at the poorer residents.  

"You have returned early, dear." His attempt of smiling was nearly humorous!

"The church did not require my assistance as of late," I replied skilfully as if I had been repeating the lines in my head. Admittedly, I had. William's right hand found his neck and if I had not known any better, it would have looked like massage, trying to relieve the stress of a tiresome and tedious day.

My mind had a stream of a leaking memory flowing effortlessly to the front of my brain, where my main attention was featured.

"The whore was back," gossipers of the house whispered to each other, I could only hear distinctly.

"Redhead?" another inquired.

"Of course, her hair as bright as her stop light."

I stashed the memory of earlier away and briefly checked that my expression did not relay my knowledge. William only nodded, possibly too quickly, and rotated to the bedroom door behind him.

"I am going to have a bath, it has been a rather long day." Hurt, uglier than Death's face and sharper than the winter's bitter wind, slashed at my heart. It did not matter if I knew already what my husband was doing, neither how many times he had; it always hurt. The pain would only intensify when I saw loving couples out on the streets, holding hands and laughing. William and I were strictly professional in our marriage. Our love was a show, like living in a theater) but I have never caught them in the act, William is too clever to be so reckless, and I know better than to air my concerns. He would order me out of the house, away from my children, then conjure up a lie in making me the villain, or tell me 'do not be so ridiculous' or 'that matter is none of your concern' or 'you are my wife, below me, do not question me again!' I know the latter would certainly consist of physical violence.

I have been visiting my ill mother over in the next town, Port Angeles, with my four children. My two eldest, twins, Harrison and Henry, are only at the mere age of three while my third, Lilianna is two, and my youngest, Lorena, is only four months. William had instructed me earlier today to bring the children, along with the nanny, to my parents as he was 'working' throughout the day.

Liar.

The horrific sounds of two people echoed down the corridor as I continue my way, tears streaming down my face, fists clenched and teeth gritted. I am fueled by adrenaline, wanting only to catch the man and prove my point. He is committing a criminal conversation! How dare he?!

My handmaid runs behind me, but it is too late as I yank the handle down and opened the wooden door.

My husband's naked rear is visible above the redhead he is in. Both of them snap their heads my way, at the same time my body starts to numb. The adrenaline dies away and is replaced by shock and rage. It is clear now. After all these nights of sleeplessness and plagued thoughts, thinking if he could really be what I thought he is, an adulterer, or if I was just imagining it, it is here. Right before me.