Love Misunderstood

March 1799   She made her way down the darkened alley between buildings that were constructed in such a way that the brilliant moon beams did not stand a chance of illuminating it. Her face laden with oversized spectacles distorting her vision and suffering from a mild case of night blindness, she did her best to steer clear of the multitude of hazardous obstacles cluttering the taxing and never ending journey to her destination.Elizabeth wished she dared remove the cumbersome wire rimmed spectacles assaulting the bridge of her delicate nose and prominent cheekbones. Finding her way through the poorly lit streets in the dark haze of predawn London was difficult enough without being encumbered by blurred vision. They were not even her glasses. Her vision was perfect. She secretly snatched them from the estate overseer’s desk just before departing to help with her disguise. Since the spindly old man kept a variety of vi

Elizabeth leaned against the rail on the deck of the intolerably crowded ship and tugged the oversized hood of her fur lined, thick red lamb’s wool cloak closer around her face. Its softness provided a touch of comfort to her poor suffering head that felt like it had been struck by a massive blunt object. Her stomach fared no better. It was so incredibly twisted from the incessant tossing of the unkind sea it was impossible to hold anything in it. In fact, she emptied it to such an extent she feared the actual stomach lining was next to rise. At times, when she leaned against the rail and silently begged the waters for mercy, she was certain she heard the waters laughing wickedly at her misery.Not wanting to raise eyebrows or suspicion, the doctor purchased tickets for their passage as uncle and niece. Realizing she would be required to walk out of her home without luggage, he commissioned a new wardrobe and toiletries to be made ready in time for their voyage. Althoug

Elizabeth stood up and slowly paced around the room while stretching her aching back and legs in a cat-like manner. It was three weeks since she and Sally were dragged ashore and shoved into a dank, sparsely furnished and poorly lit room. The small window, that was far too high above the floor for either of them to see out of, afforded their only cool, fresh air.  This came only in the wee hours of the morning before the blazing Charles Town sun arose high in the sky and turned their tiny room by the sea into a veritable steam room. The intense heat accentuated the pungent smells of the active streets beyond the confines of the tiny, box-like prison.They were told little about where they were or what fate lay in store for them. Although no one touched Elizabeth in the same manner as the captain, Sally was not so lucky. At least once daily and sometimes more often, she was forcefully dragged out of the room, kicking, and screaming, and returned several hours later, bruis

The sun was exceedingly hot for such an early morning hour as Paulette Moore grudgingly left the pleasures of a lazy hammock nestled in the shade of the hemlock grove to join her brother, Arthur, inside their Georgian mansion. He promised to take her to market in Charles Town and purchase a slave for her birthday. She could hardly wait.Her damned fool personal attendant, Jane, a comely mulatto who was a gift from her parents on her tenth birthday, smuggled herself into the bed of a field hand, got pregnant, and died giving birth. Now she was left to struggle with the clumsy ministrations of the unschooled hands of one of the second floor maids. Of course, the child Jane bore still lived and now belonged to Paulette, but he was of no use to her until he was at least three or four years of age.It certainly would not hurt if her brother gifted her with another slave or two as part of her dowry. Slaves were a commodity, after all. It was no secret the greater the dowry t

Elizabeth stood flat against the wall as she watched the seamstress draping, pulling, tucking, and pinning the exquisite white silk across Paulette’s voluptuous body.  Her amazing hands magically worked it into an evening gown for the Simpson ball the following week. Elizabeth posed many times while having dresses and gowns fitted to her slight body, but never had her seamstress been as adept as the middle aged woman serving Paulette proved to be. Yet, Paulette seemed not to notice the woman’s exquisite talent as she moaned, groaned, and occasionally slapped at the poor seamstress over something Elizabeth thought incredibly trivial.Witnessing such a scene outraged Elizabeth, but she knew better than to show it. She still stung from the beating she received the night before as a result of moving too slow for Paulette’s liking. In fact, she questioned how badly one of her ribs was injured. Each breath she took caused a pain deep beneath the gash from the