Only Skin

Chapter 2

My brain was racing with thoughts of marriage and the future. I was not ready to be a married man. I still had so much of the future left. Marriage means little children running around the place; it means having to live as an adult and taking over my fathers business; it means the end.

"Excuse me." I quickly got up out of my chair ignoring the spite from my father. I disregarded all social aspects of being polite and proper. Racing down the hallway, I headed back through to the gazebo hidden away from the rest of the plantation. All I wanted was to be alone.

Making it outside, I rested on the gazebo's railing and gazed out of the flowers and various plants upon the fields. The flowers were speckled with slaves. I never quite understood why someone would treat people like...not people. To me, I saw negroes as equal to whites, that we were all made from one blood and one God, but I was raised to think differently.

I was brought back to reality when I heard a creak of floorboards behind me. "Who goes there!" Spinning around, I met eyes with a woman. Her hair and skin were a dark ebony-black, and her browns eyes were stark against the pale whiteness of her eyes. Her mouth was adorned with a rosy and full set of lips, the color seemingly matching the color of her cheeks. She was absolutely stunning, and for a moment, I forgot who she was.

The gown she wore was more like a piece of cloth than clothing, with holes and tears adorning it. Her skin as well as her clothing was covered in dirt and sweat, showing the amount of work she put through throughout the day.

"I am 'ery sorry, master. I was told to water the plants. Did not mean to intrude." So she speaks. It took me a moment before I was able to speak. "No it is quite alright. Tis my fault. I did not mean to interrupt your work, madame."
She responded with an uncomfortable look, "No need for that, sir." Taking a step forward, I asked her for her name. "It's Rose." I smiled at that. Her name was beautiful, to match her beautiful face. "That's a beautiful name." I reached down to kiss her hand, just as I would do for Charolette, but she quickly pulled her hand away from mine. It never occurred to me that social practices would never include those outside of the white race. "Do not fret. I mean no harm, Rose. My name is Henry. It's a pleasure to meet you." She finally let out a smile, showing her teeth. "O'course I know you. E'ery one does. After all, you are Charles' son."

There was a pause before she continued. "Pardon me for Askin', but what are you doin' out here?" It took me a moment before answering her question, for I was not so sure of the answer myself. "I suppose I just needed some fresh air. The atmosphere inside the house was straining me. Besides, I know father would never think of finding me here."
"Oh well. I betta' get back to work. I'll leave ya' to be by your lonesome." She headed to the exit of the gazebo, but I reached out and grabbed her by her arm, stopping her from leaving "Wait! Please stay for a moment. I could use the company as of now. You look like you need the rest." Hesitant, she stammered on, my hand still wrapped around her arm. "Oh I don't know, sir. I don't wanna get in trouble with the Master. I betta get back to work now." "My father will not do anything to you. I will not allow it." I replied sharply and firmly. I only now just discovered who this girl was. There was no way I was going to lose her.

"Alright. I will stay."

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Rose and I talked for what felt like hours. She gave me a strange comfort to be around, as she rambled on about her sister or something someone told her. I laughed for the first time in forever.

"So there I was, sittin' on the bed, when a slave from the fields walks in. 'Robin! You betta' watch that chillin of yours! She only gets into trouble. God only knows what she'll be doin' a year later from now.' So then I say-"

Her story was interrupted from one of my step-mother's abigails (female servant) panting out of breath. Relief washed over her features as she paused to take a short breath against the railing. "Your father needs you, immediately."

She stared at Rose and I sitting together. "Yes, very well," I turned my direction back to Rose, who was back to her scared self. "We will continue this conversation tomorrow. I'll discuss what types of flowers I would like on my balcony tomorrow, around this time. I am sure they will look marvelous for when We have visitors. Pleasure to meet you." I got up, and quickly walked past the abigail. I knew Rose was sitting there, shocked at my attempt for a save at no speculation. A slave talking with her Masters' son is simply unheard of. The only time they would be talking was when the man went around ordering or yelling disgusting remarks at them. I only hope I had done the right thing to help her.