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Authors: Patricia Hagan

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BOOK: Souls Aflame
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She pushed the chair in place in front of the door, but she did not bother to light her bedside lamp. She undressed, pulled on her gown, and lay down on the bed, glad that for once, sleep would probably come immediately, as she was exhausted.

Something awakened her. She sat straight up, darting frightened glances about in the darkness. Then she turned to reach for the letter opener which she kept beneath her pillow. But it was not there! Frantically her hands went under the sheets, the bedcovers, scrambling in search of the weapon.

Then her blood turned to ice as she heard the soft, evil laugh. Something smacked across her face before she had time to scream, and scream she would have, from the very depths of her soul, even forgetting about waking her mother. Julie was being forced back onto the bed, and realized dimly that one of the satin pillows was being mashed against her nose and mouth, muffling any sounds she made.

“There’s no weapon for you tonight, my love,” Virgil was grunting, tearing at her gown with one hand while he held the pillow in place with the other. “Tonight I’m going to take what I’ve been dreaming of for so very long…”

She kicked out at him, but he was straddling her with his heavy thighs, weighting down her legs so she was unable to move. She felt his swollen organ thrusting at her, and then he penetrated, and she screamed against the pillow as the pain ripped all the way up and into her belly.

“…told you I’d be rough if you resisted me,” he panted, pushing himself in and out. “Oh, this is good, Julie…so good. It was worth waiting for…”

The pain subsided as his strokes slowed. She forced herself to try to stop screaming, for blackness was beginning to inch its way into her consciousness, suffocating her as she struggled to breathe. Sensing her surrender, Virgil relaxed his hold on the pillow, allowing her to gulp in sweet, precious air.

“You make a sound and I’ll smother you next time, you hot-blooded wench.” He lowered his head, biting down on one nipple, and she clamped her teeth together to hold back her cry of agony. Suddenly he lifted his lips from her breast and made a whimpering noise, as though he, too, were fighting to hold back a scream. His movements turned to quick, pounding thuds, and then he was slumping over her, panting heavily.

He lay there for long moments, whispering how good it had been, how much better it would be next time, because he would not have to hold her down. “You know when you’re beaten, don’t you? You know I’ll take you anytime I please! I would’ve been back before now, but there’s a black wench I’ve been taking my pleasure with every night. Only she ran away, and I decided I’d kept you waiting long enough…let you think you had the upper hand. Only now, you know who owns you, don’t you?”

He raised the pillow and released her, snapping, “And don’t scream now, or so help me, I’ll gag you and beat you within an inch of your life. One day, when I’ve got you off somewhere alone, I’ll make you pay for stabbing me. But don’t try my patience. I’d just as soon see your simpering mother die anyway, so I can be rid of her.”

Julie could only lie there, stunned, her body burning with pain and humiliation. Never had she hated another human being more. Never had she wished to take a life as she did in that moment. But she was powerless to do anything except lie before him, vulnerable and submissive.

Finally he moved off the bed, and though she could not see his face, she knew he must be smiling in triumph. “Tomorrow night and the night after, do not put a chair in front of your door, for I’ll be back, sweet Julie, to do with you as I please. And remember, one word of protest, one finger lifted in defense, and I’ll see to it that your mother knows all about us. The sooner I see her in her coffin, the happier I’ll be.”

Venomously Julie spat out the words she could no longer hold back: “One day, you contemptible savage, you’ll answer for this!”

Chuckling softly, he left her.

Julie lay there for a long time, crying until her head ached as much as her abused body. There was nothing she could do, not as long as her mother lived. She couldn’t run away and leave her at the mercy of that man. And she would do nothing to hasten her mother’s death, for then Julie would not know another moment’s peace. No, she would have to endure Virgil’s depravities and lust as long as her mother drew a breath. But then, by God, if she had to in order to escape, she would kill him!

Sara saw the bruises the next morning as she helped Julie with her bath, and she covered her mouth with her hands and wept out loud. “Lord, dear Lord. I knowed he was gonna do it. I knowed it. He been stealin’ down to Sara Jane’s at night, and he near ’bout killed her, and she run away. I should’a knowed he’d try again with you…”

Julie winced with pain as she sank down into the tub of hot, soapy water. Virgil’s long nails had scratched her in many places, and now the wounds were stinging. “Sara, I hate your having to know about this, and I wouldn’t have let you see me this way, but I’m too weak to bathe myself. You mustn’t say a word about this to anyone, do you understand? I’ll deal with it myself.”

“Oh, no’m. I wouldn’t say nothin’. You knows that. But what you gonna do? If your mama finds out, it’ll kill her. I knows it will.”

“She isn’t going to find out,” Julie snapped.

Sara gently rubbed her back with a sponge. “How you gonna keep away from him? He’ll be back every night.”

“I could move into Mother’s room, but he’d order me to come out, saying if I didn’t, he’d make a scene. He’s made it quite clear he hopes she’ll hurry up and die, and he has no qualms about hastening her last breath. I suppose there’s nothing I can do.”

“But what you gonna do when she dies?” Sara cried. “You gonna let that man have Rose Hill?”

“The day my mother is buried,” Julie replied quietly, “I’m leaving here. Virgil can have Rose Hill. If Mother knew the truth, that’s what she would want me to do.”

“But what about Mastah Myles?”

Julie squeezed her eyes shut as pain moved through her at the thought of her brother. “I don’t know, Sara. I haven’t made plans about that yet.”

Sara was quiet for a long while, then, as she was drying Julie with a soft towel, she said, “Miss Julie, you gonna go off and leave that man with all your mama’s nice things?”

“What things?” she replied absently, her mind burning with anger and fear over the suffering she would have to endure in the days and weeks to come…for as long as her mother lived.

“She’s got a lot of silver. And what about her jewelry? She’s got diamonds and gold. Them things is worth a lot. You gonna just leave them? You think she’d want
him
to have them?”

Julie sighed, thinking how that would be one more blow to suffer, leaving all the family heirlooms and her mother’s expensive jewelry for Virgil. He’d be left with everything, and she would leave her home penniless and destitute. “I suppose I have no choice. When I leave, it will be quickly and quietly. I won’t be packing trunks, Sara. He’d try to stop me if he caught me. He might even kill me.”

Sara shuddered, then asked. “Why don’t we start hidin’ things?”

“What do you mean?”

“A little at a time. We’ll sneak things out to Lionel, and he can dig a hole somewhere and bury them. That’s what I hear folks is doin’ all over Savannah—buryin’ their valuables so if the Yankees come, they can’t steal ’em. We’ll do the same with all your mama’s things. Then you can sneak back and dig ’em up. Won’t be nothin’ Mastah Oates can do, ’cause once he realizes they is gone, they’ll be buried, and he won’t know where.”

Julie’s heart began to pound with excitement. For the first time in so long she could not remember when, she felt a surge of hope. “Yes, Sara, that’s what we’ll do. But we’ll have to be very careful and take only a few things at a time, so he won’t notice anything missing. First of all, we’ll start with Mother’s jewelry and the small silver pieces.” Julie hugged the older woman happily. “Oh, Sara, how blessed I am to have a friend like you.”

Sara beamed. “Shucks, Miss Julie, I couldn’t love you more if’n you was my own young’un, but they is something you better know—”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“When you go, me and Lionel is goin’ too. We ain’t staying with that man one day after yo’ mama is buried.”

“Sara, I’ll give you your freedom today if you want it. That’s the least I can do for all your devotion. I can persuade Mother to sign any papers necessary, and you can go on and leave.”

“Oh, no,” Sara said quickly. “I don’t want to be free of you, and Lionel done said the same thing. We’d of run off a long time ago if it hadn’t been for leavin’ yo’ mama alone with that man. And we felt like you and Mastah Myles would come back one day.”

“I love you for this,” Julie said fervently, and she felt a little better, despite her overwhelming fear of the horrors that surely awaited her.

Time dragged on slowly, and many were the nights when Julie found herself shamelessly praying for her mother’s death as she lay beneath Virgil’s panting, heavy body. He came to her almost every night. How much more can I endure? she thought wildly.

After the first few times, Virgil decided that just to ravish her was not enough. He forced her to perform all sorts of depraved actions upon his body, unspeakable things that she found utterly repugnant. Even Derek, for all his raw passion, had never made her feel so utterly defiled. She had enjoyed his touch, his caress, though she had hated to admit it.

Her mother continued to cling to life, and Dr. Perkins confided he had expected her to die long before. “If you hadn’t returned, Julie,” he said one night, “she wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

Julie prayed that her guilt over wishing her mother dead did not show on her face. If she could get well, it would be different, and Julie would endure anything to save her life. But it was all hopeless, and more and more, lately, she found herself wishing she could crawl into her own casket and die—for death seemed the only way to escape the hell she was forced to endure.

Her only respite was the nights Virgil stayed in town to gamble. Lionel reported on his activities in Savannah from time to time, when he went in for supplies. The Negroes would gather down by the waterfront and exchange gossip, and it was common knowledge that Virgil Oates was becoming a heavy gambler.

On one such night, he got up from the supper table, walked to where Julie was sitting, and planted a moist kiss on her cheek. She shuddered with revulsion, but he merely laughed and said, “I hate leaving you alone, my love, but don’t worry. I’ll make up for it tomorrow night. You can bed your mother down early, and we’ll have the whole evening together.”

After he left, she sat in her chair, fighting back tears of frustration and hopelessness. Soon she would have to go in to her mother to coax her to eat, just as she did each night. Julie would be relieved if she could get only half a bowl of broth into her, but of late, her mother would often shake her head wearily and say she had no appetite and could eat nothing.

Julie could not let her see that she was upset. On two occasions, her mother had noticed and become quite distraught. Once her mother had even broken into uncontrollable sobs, crying. “It’s all my fault. I cause you so much misery, Julie. Why can’t I just go ahead and die?”

Sara walked in, took one look at Julie’s plate and cried, “You gonna waste away just like your mama if you don’t start eatin’, child. Look at that. You ain’t touched that chicken, and you always loved my fried chicken—”

“I can’t eat with that horrible man leering at me, Sara. He makes me sick.” Julie shook her head in despair. “One of these days I know something inside of me is going to snap, and I’ll throw my plate right in his face, and then hell and be damned if Mother hears and learns the truth. God help me, but I don’t know how much more I can stand.”

Sara put a plump arm around the girl’s trembling shoulders. “Now you listen to me. I knows it’s hard. I knows you feel like you can’t stand it one mo’ hour, but you got to remember that the good Lord don’t put no mo’ on his chillun than they can bear. You got to hold yo’ head up and have faith.”

“I think God may have misjudged my capacity for carrying a load,” Julie sighed. “Even Myles used to tell me I was a weakling.”

“Oh, he’d be right smart proud of the way you’ve kept from breakin’ down. I know he would.”

Julie pursed her lips. “Maybe. I look back on when I was Derek’s prisoner, and even when he made me so mad that at times I could have screamed, I think I could have endured it for a lifetime. I never thought of breaking down.”

“Why, Miss Julie,” Sara chuckled, starting to clear the plates from the table. “Now I believe you loved that man, for sure. You get a dreamy, misty look in your eyes whenever you talks about him.”

Misty Eyes—that was what Derek had called her. And even when he was angry he would call her that, and his voice, though cold and biting, sounded strange, somehow, when he said those words.

She shook herself and looked at Sara, who was chuckling to herself as though she knew some deep, dark secret. “I didn’t love him,” she snapped. “And no matter if I did. I’ll never see him again. He’s probably on another ship, running that infernal Yankee blockade and keeping a woman in every port.”

“I’ll bet you wish he’d walk in that door right now.”

Julie let out her breath in disgust. “Can’t we discuss something else?”

“Yes’m,” Sara said with a smirk, then started rattling on about how she’d seen Adelia Carrigan in town that morning. Julie bit her tongue to keep from saying she didn’t want to discuss that trollop, either.

BOOK: Souls Aflame
2.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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