Story: The Secret Slave. Part 9.

Unfortunately, SW, the author of The Secret Slave, has made a decision to take a break from this story. I think it is among the best published on this blog and it will be a shame if it joins the ranks of other unfinished masterpieces lingering around the web. For that reason, when he offered me to take over the story, I accepted gladly. After all, this is one of those plots that I've been thinking about for many years. Sophie's adventures are a long way from being completed so it's possible SW may return to the project, but for now it's my responsibility to do this plot justice. Your feedback and suggestions are important as ever.

The Secret Slave. Part 9.

by Camille Langtry

Sophie woke while it was still dark and laid on her narrow and uncomfortable maid's bed thinking of the previous night's events. How could she have behaved in such a wanton manner? A manner befitting a common whore rather than a proud daughter of the South as she had been raised? Yesterday's excitement had given way to dread. There was no denying that what she did was thoroughly wrong.  Worse still, she had no idea how to react when - rather than if - Philip took her to his room again, especially after her seemingly willing performance from last night!

If there was anything she could say in her defense it was that she just followed her mistress's instructions and wishes. That also gave her pause. Since when was she supposed to follow Elizabeth's orders or listen to her advice as if it was God's own will? Yes, she was playing the role of her slave, but they both knew it was just pretense. By agreeing to follow Elizabeth's lead to such a great extent wasn't she taking it way too far? Did she have to accept her friend's authority over her to such a terrifying extent?

What disturbed her even more was that deep inside she enjoyed what she did. No, "enjoyed" was the wrong word to describe what she felt when she got on her knees to pleasure master Philip. Was there even a word to describe this peculiar mixture of thrill and embarrassment, excitement and shame? This strange feeling of being under someone's control and, paradoxically, having a complete power over his excitement? All of this was novel to her and she had no idea how to react to her unfamiliar urges and budding insecurities.

Part of the thrill of impersonating a slave for her was the unconditional surrender of all authority, but she did so with a friend she could trust, who knew her real identity. To Philip she was just another slave negro girl on his seemingly endless list of conquests. The fact that she was nothing but a slave for him made her excited beyond words. He had no idea she was an imposter, a member of the same plantation aristocratic caste and his equal, and he treated her no differently than he would have any other slave girl. What if he somehow discovered who she was? Just thinking about it concerned Sophie immensely. That would totally and irrevocably ruin her social standing and destroy completely prospects of a good - or indeed any - marriage.

And that brought her back to Elizabeth, the crafty architect of her degradation at the hands of Philip. Her explanation for why she had to submit to Philip's advances - that this was somehow to protect her anonymity - rang more and more hollow the more she thought about it. It was as if her pretend mistress wanted her to submit to him for her own amusement and take relish in her downfall. A daughter of the planters class pleasuring a vile scoundrel while guised as a common slave girl. How scandalous! What if anyone, other than Elizabeth, found out? What if she did something that displeased  her friend and she revealed their little adventure to her family? Surely, she wouldn't do such a thing! Still, this ambiguity between them existed and Elizabeth was fully aware of her newly-acquired power over Sophie.

Her train of disturbing thoughts was interrupted  by a little bell. Her mistress was awake and was ringing for her! She instinctively touched the shiny collar with “Prop. of Cypress Hill, Augusta, GA” engraved on the side that was locked on her slender neck and was grazing her skin just a little. She jumped out of bed, pulled her cotton dress over her head and tied an apron around her waist - another sign of her position in this household.

If there was any advantage to her station in life it was how little time it now took her to get dressed and undressed. There were no lace pantalets, no restricting stays,  no countless layers of ruffled petticoats or a horsehair crinoline to give her a fashionable look straight from Godey's lady’s magazine. Of course,  all this time saved on dressing herself was now supposed to be spent attending to her mistress's every whim. And this is precisely what she did for the next hour as she brought Elizabeth water for her morning toilette, combed her hair and arranged it in a simple but tasteful style and then dressed her from head to toe as if she were a little girl who could not do it herself. Elizabeth, for her part, did not lift a finger and just stood there issuing her slave instructions.

Following that was the now familiar routine of serving breakfast on the veranda to the two ladies. Rosa, quick and efficient as ever, was watching her serving companion like a hawk, hoping the inexperienced girl did not break anything or do something to attract the missus’s unwelcome attention. Sophie closely followed Rosa's lead and, for the most part, succeeded even as she was still a long way from the other slave's well-rehearsed, semi-automatic moves. Neither Elizabeth nor Caroline paid Sophie any attention and chattered excitedly about the upcoming party. Like a good servant, Sophie stood quietly by the serving table, just a few steps behind her mistress, and did her best to show that she was not in the least interested in the conversation.

"So, who would you have for the garden party?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, it's quite a small affair this year. May Richmond fell off her horse and broke her leg.  Haven't you heard? Poor horse! What was she thinking with a complexion like hers?" Caroline chuckled.

Elizabeth smiled too. Indeed, May, the  oldest daughter of Colonel Richmond, Caroline's closest neighbor, was a stout woman, to put it very mildly.

"So the Richmonds are out this year. Reverend Andrews promised to come. The Tremonts will be here. And they are bringing their cousin George with them. I hear he's quite handsome. Not to mention that his family owns half of this county. Still unmarried, " Caroline made a meaningful pause to make sure the last word did not escape Elizabeth’s attention.

"Caroline, I don't think I.." Elizabeth began answering only to be interrupted.

"Enough. I don't want to hear your objections. No one is going to force you to spend time with him if he's not to your liking. He is a very handsome young man though," Caroline continued with her pitch. "I know that Pierre’s horrific death has been hard on you, but it's been three years already. Don't tell me you want to die a spinster! You are still so young."

"Caroline, please…" Elizabeth tried to protest again.

"It's settled then. I'd have you sit next to each other at the party. He's just returned from France , I am sure he is full of exciting stories! Oh, before I forget. Rosa, come here, girl."

Rosa made a few steps forward and curtsied, waiting for her mistress's instructions.

"I want you to organize a slave dance performance to entertain the guests, Rosa. It was a huge success last time. If you perform well, I will give you next half-Saturday off," Caroline declared in her usual presumptuous manner.

"And make sure to wear those savage outfits we had you make last year too. I'd love to see the expression on the Reverend's face when he sees them!" She added mischievously. "You still have them, do you?"

"We sure do, Miz, iz jus' dat Lucy ain't filling no good after dat whippin'. She be da best dancer we got 'ere at da plantation. And we be needin' more gals for dat dance to pair with them negroes," Rosa said quietly and curtsied again.

"That was a week ago! She should have long recovered by now. Tell her I order her to dance tomorrow or I'll have her whipped one more time," Caroline said.

"Miz, Mr. Carter, da doctor, he be sayin' she no well at all, may be lon’ time before she walkin' again," Rosa answered.

"Well, she has no one but herself to blame for that. I'll talk to Mr. Carter about her. I will not tolerate a lazy slave in this house. Don't we have anyone else to take her place?"

Caroline looked around and saw Sophie, who was standing obediently behind her mistress, her eyes downcast, her hands crossed on her white apron.

"What about Sophie here? I am sure she would make a wonderful addition to your little group, Rosa. What do you think, Elizabeth? Is your girl a good dancer?" Caroline looked at her friend quizzically.

Sophie looked at her mistress praying she would protect her from the prospects of dancing for the entertainment of that despicable monster's guests, but was shocked when she embraced the idea wholeheartedly.

"Oh yes, Caroline,  I think it is a marvelous idea. She is very graceful. As my personal maid she does not have much time to spend with her fellow slaves so it will be a welcome relief for her. Wouldn't it be fun, Sophie?"

Sophie wanted to say something, anything to show that dancing with her "fellow slaves" was the last thing she needed, but before she could utter a sound Caroline clapped her hands and declared: "It's settled then. Rosa, make sure you show everything to Sophie before the performance. Make sure all the tables are arranged in the garden before you do that though. Yes, and don't forget about the costume for her. Elizabeth and I are going horseback riding in the valley, when we return I will check on your progress."

Rosa curtsied acknowledging her mistress's orders and gave Sophie an angry look as if it was somehow all her fault. Last thing she needed was teaching that uppity girl their dance: she was pretty certain just looking at her fair complexion she was not cut out for it. She knew better than to argue with her mistress though.

Caroline looked Sophie over and asked: "Why are you not wearing the uniform we bought in town? Your normal dress won't do for the party. I thought I was very clear about that."

"I am sorry, I have forgotten about it completely, it is just.." Sophie began to answer hoping that her forgetfulness would not cost her another whipping, but thankfully her mistress came to the rescue.

"Oh, Caroline. Don't blame my poor Sophie. It is my fault completely as I did not remind her this morning. Run quickly now, girl. I want to see you in that pretty new dress. It looks handsome on Rosa I must say," Elizabeth interjected.

Caroline rolled her eyes: "You are too easy on your girl, Elizabeth. It was her responsibility, not yours. A little advice from a fellow mistress: never repeat an order. If you do, they stop taking them seriously."

"Thank you, Caroline. You are right, of course, " Elizabeth responded in the most friendly manner and immediately switched to the strict mode of a demanding mistress. "Haven't you heard me, girl? Off you go. "

Sophie curtsied and ran off to her small room to change, thankful that she had got off so lightly. Ten minutes later she re-joined the other maids who were engaged in endless household chores as everything was being readied for the party. Guests were not expected until six and the girls, dressed in identical yellow and white uniforms with pretty puffy sleeves, ruffled half aprons and snowy caps with ribbons, were busy dusting, sweeping and polishing.

Sophie was sweeping the porch when she heard the sound of hooves and Caroline’s voice. She immediately dropped what she was doing and curtsied as the two young Amazons, small horse whips in their delicate hands, rode by, not even acknowledging Sophie’s existence. Instead, they were engaged in an animated conversation, clearly enjoying each other’s company.

“She wore the ugliest gown I have ever seen! And to her own wedding! You should have been there. I’d rather drop dead than wear that. And then Miss Fleming turned to her and said…”

The ladies turned around the corner before Sophie could hear what is it that the mysterious Miss Fleming told the anonymous owner of the ugliest wedding gown and returned to her duties, cleaning the steps that the guests would be using in a few hours’ time.

At three Sophie was summoned upstairs to help her mistress dress for the party. She entered the room and closed the door behind her. Elizabeth, fresh from her ride,  was already waiting for her, playing with the hunting crop. There was an awkward silence as Sophie inspected the horse whip in her mistress’s hand.

“Elizabeth,” she finally said in half-whisper. “Please tell Caroline I can’t take part in the dance. Have you seen the costumes? Rosa showed them to me and they are nothing short of indecent! I don’t think I can..”

“Sophie, remember what I told you about acting as a slave at all times, even when there is no one around. I think your demeanour has been quite good, but I have noticed that you occasionally switch back to proper English, like you did this morning with Mistress Caroline. Thank God she was too full of herself to notice. Now you are doing it again! Do take extra care and try only speaking like the slaves do. You are very good at mimicking their jabber. A girl like you should have no use for fancy words or correct grammar."

“But I can’t express myself very well..”

“Please trust me. We have talked about it already and I thought you agreed with me. Did you really expect me to argue with Mistress Caroline about you? As far as she is concerned, you are nothing but a slave girl and it is your duty to do what your mistresses say. Do you understand me, Sophie?"

"Ah suah does, Miz," Sophie answered, switching back to her slave talk as a sign of her acknowledgement.

"Very well, I am glad you understand. I have to say I see no harm in a little dance. This will also allow you to spend time with other slaves, didn’t you want that? You can start dressing me now."

Sophie curtsied - bending her knees every time a superior asked her anything was quickly becoming a habit - and began helping her mistress remove her beige morning frock. Soon Elizabeth was just in her pantalets and stays and Sophie proceeded to dress her in the gown that was selected for the party.

Elizabeth's outfit for the occasion was a green muslin dress edged with bobbin lace. Sophie was instructed to tighten her mistress's stays another inch so that the hooks on the back of the short-sleeved gown could close properly. Large curls were carefully arranged by Sophie so that they symmetrically peaked from under an elaborate garden hat with artificial roses. A light lace shawl covered Elizabeth’s white bare shoulders. A lacy parasol with a long silver handle completed the ensemble.

"How do I look, girl?" Elizabeth took a twirl in front of the mirror, holding the parasol in her gloved hands.  

"Oh you looks real fine, Miz Lizbet. Ah is sure all da men at dat party they be droolin' like them wild dogs when they seed you, " Sophie said in her best imitation of slave talk, just like her mistress requested. She had actually heard that vulgar expression no proper lady would ever use from her own slave, Sally.

"You think so? That is so sweet of you to say, Sophie. Now off you go, guests will soon be here and Mistress Caroline said she needed you to greet them at the porch when their carriages arrive. Hurry up!"

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