The Virgin of Greenbrier: The Greenbrier Trilogy, Book One

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

The blister on her thumb burned. She’d lost track of the number of sweet potatoes she had peeled, washed, and sliced. On the opposite side of the table, Mary did the same with apples. After the nightmare of learning not only how to pluck, but to butcher, skin, and gut a chicken, Lucretia had more than welcomed the chance to work with potatoes. She was to cut them into thin slabs then place them into the pot of cold water that sat beside her on the bench. The pot was half full, and Lucy had been relieved when Abby had told her the last two potatoes she had left would be enough. Lucretia had never worked so hard in her life and found an unusual level of pride and satisfaction in the labor, much like how she had felt with the fire.

While working with Mary, Lucy had quickly found out that this place was considered one of the most exclusive private ladies schools in all of Virginia. It was expensive and that expense bought privacy unlike any other. Mary spoke quietly and respectfully at all times. She knew how to sew and cook and keep a house better than anyone Lucretia had ever met in her life. Her family could not afford the slaves that Lucy’s could and most of the work of keeping a home running would fall to Mary. She was well prepared and eager to take on her new role once she had left here. Lucretia, on the other hand, knew little beyond giving orders to her slaves. Though pleasant enough company, Mary was not as educated as Lucretia would have liked. She had been with the doctor six months and was soon to be sent home. Unlike Lucy, Mary had come here on her own.

Mary’s eyes flickered to the swinging door Abby had just left through before speaking, “It’s said that Master Beau has taken a fancy to you, Lucy.”

“Pardon?”

“He’s taken a fancy to you. I’d not let that go to your head. He does that sometimes. He’ll move on as soon as he’s stolen your flower and something sweeter and more tender comes along.”

If this was how he treated those he fancied, how on earth must he treat those he did not? “What makes you think something as silly as that?” She picked up her last sweet potato and began to peel it slowly, feigning disinterest in the answer. “Besides, my father wants my purity to remain intact.”

“We’ll see. What Master Beau wants, he usually gets. Cassy was telling some of us…”

Lucretia lowered her paring knife with a scowl. “Cassy? He told Cassy what?”

Mary giggled. “Well, he didn’t really tell her anything. Your name came up this afternoon when she and Susan were with him.”

“Oh,” Lucy’s heart sank. “Well, I don’t see how my name being mentioned in conversation means he fancies me.”

The smile on Mary’s face grew bigger, and her eyes lit up. “Who said anything about conversation? He was getting a BJ.”

“A what?”

The kitchen door swung open. Abby set down two baking pans on the table where the girls sat. “Miss Mary, you gets the brown sugar an’ the butter. Lawdy, Miss Lucy, you is one of the slowest peelers I ever did see. Finish up that last tater so’s I can show you how to make this scallop. It’s one of Master Addams’ favorites.” The black woman looked around the kitchen then patted the pockets on her apron. Keys clanked in one. Into the other she dipped her dark hand and withdrew a pad of paper and pencil. Much to Lucretia’s surprise, the cook began to write on the paper as she muttered to herself about salt, cinnamon and coffee.

“You can read and write?” Lucy asked.

Abby didn’t even look up from her task, “I do a lot of things I ain’t ‘spose ta, Miss Lucy. The doctor ain’t got no lady to keep the place runnin’ like I do. Now,” her back straightened as she looked at the girls, her lips stern and puckered. “quit your chit-chattin’ an’ finish up.”

After that Lucy was never left alone long enough to ask what it was that had brought her name to the Master’s lips. She set the dining room table with a dozen of everything, amazed at the richness that surrounded her. Her family had wealth, but Dr. Addams’ home, despite the primal exterior, was regal. The finest china, the most delicate blown crystal, the softest linens and most gleaming silver all fell under Lucretia’s touch. The man had a taste for the better things in life. And when all was set and the time arrived for dinner, she, Mary, Elizabeth, and Abby waited in the kitchen while the chairs beyond were filled.

As laughter and chatter reached their ears, Lucretia wished she were one of them even if it meant sitting naked in front of everyone. She was growing used to her own nakedness and that of those around her. Abby was the only clothed person Lucretia had seen all afternoon. Somehow it seemed to matter less and less. Mary slipped out with two pitchers of cold water to fill the goblets.

“Why hasn’t he gotten here, yet?” Lucy asked Abby.

“He’s partial to makin’ an arrival.” The look in her eyes showed more concern than the words themselves. But when nearly thirty minutes had passed and he was still not here, Abby began to sputter under her breath about keeping things hot and the gravy smooth.

Mary filled the water goblets a second time and returned looking worried, “Nobody has seen him, Abby, not in hours.”

The unmistakable sound of a door slamming back against the wall that supported it hushed the dining room with a start. “Lawdy,” Abby peeked out the kitchen door. “He’s here, but he ain’t happy. Let’s hurry up now.”

Quickly, Lucy and Elizabeth finished up the salad plates and loaded them on to two separate trays. Mary was to serve around the table from the noon position, which was Dr. Addams at the head, to the five o’clock slot. Lucretia was given the remainder, six through eleven. Mary would always go first and always start the serve with the doctor. Lucy’s hand shook under the plates and the painful knot had returned to her stomach. Her hands grew damp with sweat. She had not seen him since she’d run from the parlor.

“No time to dawdle, chil’. Get out there.” Abby practically pushed Lucretia into the stifled silence of the dining room.

Focus on your task, Lucretia repeated to herself over and over. Do not look at him, just serve the salad. But the hush that had fallen over the room was deafening and it made Lucretia glance up as she set the third of her salad plates before the diner. His eyes drilled into her, making no pretenses whatsoever. He looked furious and cruel and cold. As efficiently as possible, she moved around the table completing her duty then rushed back to the kitchen. Her heart was beating so fast she could scarcely breathe. She collapsed into the nearest kitchen chair, wiping the film from her forehead, afraid she was about to faint.

“You gonna be all right, Miss Lucy?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be all right.”

“Sit an’ eat your own salad, chil’, while them out there eats theirs. That’s how we do it. Then we’ll do the soup.”

Behind her, in the dining room, no pleasant conversation as there had been for breakfast filled the room. There were only the polite sounds of people eating as quietly as possible. Even from here, Lucy could feel the curtain of dread, near terror, that clung to the air in the next room.

Each time Lucretia managed to either serve or clear, she felt the fire of his gaze on her. Had anyone dropped or spilled anything, she feared the worst. Lucy sliced the pumpkin cheesecake and filled each dessert plate. Elizabeth was busy whipping the cream into a white fluff. The kitchen smelled of rich, dark coffee as Abby filled expensive china cups. Mary loaded the trays with those cups.

“Always serve him coffee before taking out the dessert, always,” Abby warned, loading Lucretia with one of the coffee trays.

Back into the dining room they both went, serving as they had the entire meal. But when Mary set down the doctor’s coffee, his hand curled hard around her wrist.

“Lucy,” he said so seriously that Mary turned white, “will serve me dessert.”

“Yes, Master Addams.” Mary swallowed hard. He released her and met Lucy’s gaze.

“Eyes down, girl. You’ve been told that already.”

Lucretia looked away petrified. She nearly spilled the final cup on the tray before retreating to the sanctuary behind the swinging door. “Is he angry with me?” Her wide eyes darted to each of the other women in the room, searching for an answer.

Instead, Mary whispered, “Cassandra isn’t to supper.”

She had not even noticed. Lucretia had been so busy and so focused on doing everything right so as not to be in trouble, she had no idea who was at the table and who was not. “No time to wonder ‘bouts it now,” Abby said, loading Lucretia’s empty hands with her final tray for the evening. “Go serve.”

Out the door a final time she went. She was so nervous the plates on the tray shook. Lucretia set down Dr. Addams’ plate first. “Come back to me when you are done with the others,” he told her.

“Yes, Master,” she said, trying not to let her voice tremble. She emptied the tray and gave it to Mary. Holding herself tall and lady-like as he had told her to do before, Lucretia returned to the head of the table, prepared for some sort of reprimand although for what she could not fathom. She had worked hard all day and given Abby no difficulties. She’d done everything she had been told to do and without one complaint. Why was he singling her out?

He took her hand, holding it a little tighter than necessary. “Kneel beside me and hold up your hands. Yes, like that. A little higher. Perfect.” On her upturned hands, Dr. Addams placed his dessert plate and, for the first time that evening, smiled. She wanted so much to actually look at him or to speak to him and ask him why he was upset but did neither. She held the plate and her tongue and did nothing more. He took his first bite, rolling the creamy cake thoughtfully around in his mouth. “This is very good. Did you have a hand it making it, Lucy?”

“No, sir. Abby made it.”

“I only asked if you had made it, not the history of its production.”

“Yes, sir.” Lucy pressed her lips harder together, forcing herself to be quiet.

“It’s very good at any rate.” He turned from her, giving the nod that the others may now enjoy their desserts. “Our annual Halloween party is in two weeks,” he suddenly said. “Has anyone thought of some new games for us to play?” They all were quiet. “No one? Someone here must be clever enough to think of a game or two.”

A girl half way down the table raised her hand. “I have, sir.”

“Excellent. Tell us.”

Through dessert and a second round of coffee, the atmosphere lightened even as Lucretia’s arms grew heavier. When the plate was empty, he left it in place and added his fork for her to balance. The doctor listened with interest to all the suggestions and even some of the plans that had already been made. The room had taken a collective sigh, seeing his rage was passing. No one, however, dared to ask why he had been angry in the first place.

Slowly the others were dismissed and Lucretia, with her arms cramping in almost unbearable agony, still knelt at his side, holding the tiny plate aloft. Mary and Elizabeth cleared the table around them. Lucy had to shut her eyes to concentrate her strength and resolve on not dropping the plate. She had done too good a job today to ruin it all by letting a plate fall from her grasp.

Her hands were emptied. “Put your arms down and behind your back.” The muscles groaned in protest as she changed position. “Talk to me,” he instructed.

Lucretia opened her eyes and looked up. He did not order her to look away but there was something in his face that startled her. He was different, but she could not figure out how. “What shall I talk about, sir?”

“Whatever is on your mind.”

Did she dare ask about Cassandra? No, not yet. She would wisely play it safe. “I would rather hear what is on your mind, sir.”

Surprise widened his eyes, “Betrayal, my virgin.”

Lucretia’s eyes lowered. “Has someone betrayed you, sir?”

“Yes,” the word hissed from him.

“Me?” She was almost in tears and did not know why.

“You?!”

“Are you angry with me?”

He laughed, but it was not the laugh she’d admired earlier. It was a heartless sound that chilled her. He finished his glass of wine and threw the crystal against the far wall. It shattered into a hundred pieces. Lucretia ducked on instinct, more convinced than ever that she was the source of his foul mood. What had she done? The familiar grasp of his hand in her hair pulled her towards him. “No, my precious. I am not angry with you.” The relief of his words and the sudden impact of his mouth to hers sucked the breath from her. She remained motionless and shocked. He pushed her away just as suddenly as he’d taken her in. The doctor yanked himself from the chair so quickly it slammed backwards to the floor. Shards of broken glass crunched under his boots. Lighting a cigar from the sideboard, he began to pace. “A confidence was broken. A very strict rule was ignored.”

“Have I done something wrong, sir?”

“Not at all,” he walked past her, a trail of smoke following him as he went. Lucretia was convinced he’d gone mad. “No, you are an angel, a blessing, a ray of light and perfection. Lucretia, it is a most appropriate name, don’t you think? It reminds me of Lucifer, the Fallen One. The Bringer of Light.” His eyes glistened. He was absolutely insane. There could be no doubt. “No, no, no. Not you.” He gripped Lucretia roughly by both shoulders and pulled her to her feet with a gentle shake. “Nothing to do with you.” He stopped, pulled the cigar that had been clenched between his teeth from his mouth and stared at her. “And yet, everything is because of you!”

She was too afraid to reply.

Dr. Addams stepped back and stared at her for so long and so hard she felt violated by his gaze alone. “Not yet. We must wait,” he muttered. He turned and was nearly out of the room before turning back to look at her one last time. “Take the plug from your ass before you go to bed, my dear. I want the pleasure of putting it back in you after breakfast.” Then he was gone.

Lucretia let out a shaking breath. She did not move. The sound of her blood rushed in her head. The cold sweat of her fear shook her from head to toe.

“Lucy?” the gentle sound of Mary’s whisper reached her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered back. “He broke a glass.”

Behind her the kitchen door swung open. “Where?”

“On the wall by the buffet.” She took several more deep breaths and turned slowly around in place. Lucretia could see the glistening shards but could easily get around them to return to the kitchen. “I’ll clean it up.”

But Mary took her by both hands and together they returned to the kitchen. “No, you are trembling so. I can do it.”

Lucy nodded. She could not have held a broom and dustpan in her hands even if she wanted to.

“Abby?” Lucretia sat.

“Yes, Miss Lucy?”

“He’s crazy, isn’t he?”

“One might call it that, yes.” Lucretia sucked on her bottom lip and Abby began to laugh. “Don’t you get it, child?”

“Get what?”

“The Master is crazy all right. Crazy in love.”

“In love?” She could not imagine that being what a person in love would act like.

Abby touched Lucretia on the shoulder and smiled. She looked her straight in the eyes. “Lawds, chil’. Is you daft? He’s in love with you.”