Slave Sisters

(31) Slave Sisters

31st March, 1805          

“You and Victor were gone for a long time,” Tayla acknowledged. Supper had just passed. With our backs lay on the mattress Tayla’s eyes remained closed, while mine stared at the ceiling.

I shrugged, “We were?” When my sister did not reply, I rolled my eyes. “I do not see why that is a problem.”

“Yes, you do.” Tayla slowly turned onto her side. “You do not still have feelings for that boy, do you?”

“Of course not,” I replied quickly. “I am not stupid. Why would you think that?” Raking a hand through my hair, I sighed at my apparent hesitance.

“Tamara – why were you crying? Did he do something to you?” No matter how much my sister tried to coax the truth out of me, I remained reluctant. “. . . Because, you know, we could tell someone.” Her knowing would not help.

“I already told you; there was some dust in my eyes –”

“Just before you two re-appeared, Virginia threatened to go see what was wrong.” Immediately I felt grateful for having restrained myself from Victor. I struggled to imagine Virginia’s reaction to coming upon Victor and I kissing, let alone experience it.

Tayla’s full attention was on me. A loud scoff escaped my lips. “She would have been wasting her time,” I lied. 

“Why?” Tayla probed. Her eyes narrowed.

“As you already know, I was helping him; Victor wanted my opinion on whether Virginia would prefer to wear her shawl or mantelet,” I calmly explained. My face remained still as stone, struggling to maintain eye contact with Tayla.

A quiet, amused, sound escaped her lips, “Why would he want your view?”

I frowned; what did she mean by that?

“Because he is a nice person,” I retorted, for some reason feeling the need to defend him. It still shocked me that, despite Mrs and Mr Wicker’s cruel ways, Victor was nothing like his mother or father.

“Well . . . the shawl suited her very well.” Though I did not think the same, I agreed with her.

“Do you think Jane is still in her bedchamber?” I questioned. It was only late evening. “She must be bored.” Immediately I thought back to Victor’s kiss, now even more angered; in that moment he had opted for me not only over Virginia, but also Jane.

It seemed that as if, with each day, our problems grew more complicated.

“As I am,” Tayla joked. Thinking back to her constant interrogations about me and Victor, I wanted to sigh. “We should bring her up here.”

“No.” When my finger came into contact with the cold, damp wooden floorboard I shuddered. “This place is awful.”

Tayla sat up. “Then let us go to her bedchamber.”

“Both of us? What if Judith catches us?” She groaned, angrily rubbing at her elbows.

“Then I will go,” Tayla decided. Before I could say anything she was already making her way down the steps. As soon as she was out of sight, I heavily sighed.

1st April, 1805

“May I have a muffin, please?” Jane watched as I loaded the freshly-made muffins from a tray onto a large plate. Covering it with a lid, I then turned to face her.

“Not yet; breakfast will begin soon.” She groaned, but then reluctantly nodded.

Tayla was upstairs helping Virginia into her dress as requested. I suspected that Judith and Victor were also almost ready.