I just realized I could write here, haha😂. Actually some of you would probably notice once you read this chapter. But I wrote this since last year. Updating have been out of my hand, a technical fault, but I'm back!! Thank you to all or any faithful reader, sorry that I'm a really slow writer that can't even write more that 1,2,3 thousand words per chapter. But I will try my best. This story will def undergo good redidting, so stick with me. Love. Matty
'Have you spoken to lord Montclair'? This was the first thing I asked Abigail after I knocked on her door in a low scratch and she called me in.'Yes', she smiled, she was writing on her table and I sat on the stool just like I used to when we were younger. 'Can you believe'? She swerved around to face me, her writing forgotten at the moment. 'As rumors go, lord Montclair never says sorry. He did though, to me, apologizing for calling me a country bumpkin'. She smiled, pleased that he'd only ever apologized to her and also apologized for calling her names.'Oh I'm sure that's not the case, surely. He does apologize...when it is necessary'.'Then the necessity of it must be very sparse between'. She retorted back.'Do you think his apologizing to you means something'?'I think the frequent visit he pays to my grandfather's home means something'. Abigail sounded very confident from her reply and I suspected she was softening towards him.'Do you think he means to court you'? Abigail succ
'What is this'? Lord Montclair was fingering the gift I had given him, wrapped in an old newspaper and a ribbon -that I had sniffed from Abigail's collection, knowing she wouldn't miss it- tied around it.'It's your birthday present '. I said.'But my birthday is-''Is tomorrow, February 29th, I know, which now makes me feel like laughing. Lord Montclair, if your birthday is on every leapyear; how old are you really'?. He grinned. 'That's a secret'.'You're 10 years old, perhaps'.'Ha'! He scoffed. ' I celebrate my birthdays on the 28th of February of the 1st of May if it's not a leap year. So I am allegedly an adult'.'Hmm. Mhm'. I smiled, unconvinced. 'You wouldn't understand' he said, shaking his head at me.'What did you get me'?'Its a-''You know people won't normally tell you what they got for your birthday'. He interrupted looking slightly surprised.'Bible'. I finished. He sat up straighter and stared wide-eyed at me, mouth slightly agape.'You got me a bible for my birthday
in an era of time where slavery was an approved trade, Naomi and her family were constrained to the Stanley's family, noble, respected. That is, until the fiftieth year. The fiftieth year was symbolic for freedom and every slave was free to leave if they wanted.But can Naomi and her family last till that year without things changing drastically.She tells her story, from some time where things took a different turn from the normalcy of her life. 22years into the fifty years, 8 years to the fiftieth year.I was running, hard. My feet crunched heavily into the snow as I maneuvered my way around the trees, clothed now in snow. I made a pause to catch my breath, Abigail had gotten it into her fair head to chase me around the forest and had instigated the snow ball fight. I let out a breathy laugh, puff of vapour billowing around my face, I couldn't say I didn't enjoy the freedom, I just needed to catch my breath.I stood up straight from my bended position
The countryside's clouds were grey, they almost always were, and even then, I remember I was still not used to that, although I was 10. It was different from my real home, my father's home, my mother's, my ancestors.Everything was different from it. Back at home, the sun was always shining, beating warmly, down our backs and when it wasn't shinning, it was night and if it wasn't night, then it was a rainy day. In the countryside, the weather was fairly okay but it was not like home and it was sometimes unpredictable, I dislike unpredictable.Although, the land was vast. A person or family could own several aces or land and you could not see another neighbor for several miles away. Some of the lands and the houses were even passed down from generation to generation, like the Stanley's household.But as the years went by, I grew to love the countryside. Not only for it's vastness and mellow animals; sheep, cattle, pig donkeys, horses and the Meadows! But
I took a shaky breath, my mama placed a hand on my shoulder. 'Did he tell you why '? Mary looked at her incredulously, mama sighed and shook her head at her. 'Never mind that. Naomi -' I turned around, ' I didn't do anything mama ', she raised her brow at me, ' I never said you did'. ' But -', she shook her head at me. 'Just go. But remember, answer them with a yes sir or no sir. Never say anything that might be used against you. Never ever look at them straight in the eye for long '!I stepped into the main house to the parlour through the servant section. The sun was streaming through the open window and Mr Stanley Jr was sitting backing it, his blond hair shinning golden against the setting sun. His green eyes so dark against the sun, I couldn't be sure what he was thinking. Beside him was his father, Mr Stanley, in all his white haired glory. He'd taken off his hat, and it was probably hanging on the cap hook - when Mrs Stanley had been alive, she couldn't cond
She nodded, her eyes trained on the scratched surface of the box. ' They called for me this morning, your daddy and I. I was so scared '. And I was surprised, this was the first time my mama had ever told me in plain words, exactly how she felt.' I thought they were going to take you away from us and we'll be unable to stop them.That's why you must be careful when you go to live with them. The Stanley's are different but be careful '. She turned and stared me deep in the eye. ' Never forget who you are and where you came fromRemember that it's just few more years to reach the 50th year, to be free. Know your place among them but know who you are '. She softly jabbed her finger against my chest. Then she smiled, retracing her hand away and pushing the box back under the bed. ' Now let's get you to bed, to -'' But can me not stay up to see daddy'? I protested as she tugged me unto my bed and Drew up my things blanket up to my chin. ' Not tonight Naomi, you
'Say, winter is just around the corner'. Abigail lay on her bed on her stomach, her feet raised up and her dress falling to pool around her, altogether looking very unlady-like.'Mm hm', I murmured, concentrating on stitching a tear on her silk stockings, the type her mother liked and the ones Abigail was frequently destroying, only because they were more in number than her cotton ones. So there I sat, trying to stitch it carefully and neatly - which is rather difficult since the tear was not running along the seams but right through the middle, not very conspicuous you see-, so Mrs Stanly does not start a row with Abigail and somehow include all innocent and wary bystanders into it.'Well, i wish we could go outside you see, while the weather is still warm. I'm so bored, can we not go outside'? She had my attention now and i raised my head to watch her, her gaze directed to the open window, chin resting on her palms, looking forlorn. She sigh
Two years back,'What are you doing today Miss Abigail'?'Language. And really Naomi, have i not told you not to call me "Miss",it is Abigail between the two of us '.'Yes ma'am-''Abigail''Yes Abigail'. She smiled, pleased to have gotten her way.'Come on let's go. Miss Venice should be waiting for us'. We hurried upstairs to Abigail's schoolroom.Miss Venice was round. Her middle jiggled when she walked and you could see the many stomach folds behind her tightened girdle. She had a chubby, smiley face with quaint facial features, a sweet, calm demeanor but had a mean streak about her. Her pretty long fingers were almost alway fiddling with the ropes on her gown. And you really couldn't see her belly folds unless you truly looked.But Miss Venice had one problem - apart from, in the societies eye, the fact that she was a score and four years and yet unmarried and that she was Fre
'What is this'? Lord Montclair was fingering the gift I had given him, wrapped in an old newspaper and a ribbon -that I had sniffed from Abigail's collection, knowing she wouldn't miss it- tied around it.'It's your birthday present '. I said.'But my birthday is-''Is tomorrow, February 29th, I know, which now makes me feel like laughing. Lord Montclair, if your birthday is on every leapyear; how old are you really'?. He grinned. 'That's a secret'.'You're 10 years old, perhaps'.'Ha'! He scoffed. ' I celebrate my birthdays on the 28th of February of the 1st of May if it's not a leap year. So I am allegedly an adult'.'Hmm. Mhm'. I smiled, unconvinced. 'You wouldn't understand' he said, shaking his head at me.'What did you get me'?'Its a-''You know people won't normally tell you what they got for your birthday'. He interrupted looking slightly surprised.'Bible'. I finished. He sat up straighter and stared wide-eyed at me, mouth slightly agape.'You got me a bible for my birthday
'Have you spoken to lord Montclair'? This was the first thing I asked Abigail after I knocked on her door in a low scratch and she called me in.'Yes', she smiled, she was writing on her table and I sat on the stool just like I used to when we were younger. 'Can you believe'? She swerved around to face me, her writing forgotten at the moment. 'As rumors go, lord Montclair never says sorry. He did though, to me, apologizing for calling me a country bumpkin'. She smiled, pleased that he'd only ever apologized to her and also apologized for calling her names.'Oh I'm sure that's not the case, surely. He does apologize...when it is necessary'.'Then the necessity of it must be very sparse between'. She retorted back.'Do you think his apologizing to you means something'?'I think the frequent visit he pays to my grandfather's home means something'. Abigail sounded very confident from her reply and I suspected she was softening towards him.'Do you think he means to court you'? Abigail succ
From now know, I'll make sure such encounter never happened again, as long as I can help it.°°°°°°°°°°°°°°That was unfortunately, not what happened. After that day, he seemed to always be everywhere, almost. He was soon a regular visitor, I don't know if I can call him a visitor still, to the baron's household.What was it with this man? I grumbled after another, recent taunting from him. Was it that he had done all the work for his life time when he was much younger? And now he was as free as any man could wish. He should take his free time some places else like play chess or checkers with some older men or whatever it was. Although I was not the brunt of his availability. No, that is not correct. Although I was the brunt of his sudden free time with which he used frequenting the baron's home, Abigail was suffering a similar plight. 'Can you believe'! She exclaimed, as she was once again pacing around her room while I sat on a stool, studiously sewing. A lot of unbelievable thing
Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. I fainted. °°°°°°°°°°°°°° Murmuring broke through my daze. Murmuring turned to words as I swept in and out of consciousness. '... Must take her inside'. Abigail? 'I cannot milady', a man's voice filtered past my ears as if far away. '.... Master...' 'Take her to her room, leave her on her bed. When she wakes up, she would take care of herself', lady Georgiana interjected, sounding sharp in my head. 'Yes my lady'. I was lifted up into the air and I fell back into slumber. °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° Weeks later, I was hurrying through the garden, a short cut to the kitchen. I was hurrying across the garden and suddenly, I was shoved into an alcove, my back pressed painfully against the wall - what was wrong with my life? Had I been born under a bad consternation? When I was peacefully minding my quiet existence, trouble came looking for me, when I went looking for trouble, trouble was dutifully following me closely behind. When I noticed someone was lookin
I woke up with a start and sat up straight on my bed. It couldn't be, could it?.My room was still covered in pools of darkness but I knew it would be filled with daylight soon. I got down, made my bed; straightened my blanket and puffed the pillow. Dressed in the dark and stepped out to the servant's wash room which was thankfully not in use. I stepped out of the wash room and my day began.All morning, i was not myself. When I heard a deep voice, I jumped,when I heard heavy foot steps coming my way I swerved around only to see a male servant walking by. 'You're acting very strangely today'. Stated Abigail in the presence of lady Georgiana and her abigail, Gloria, a slim girl in her twenties with long black hair like her mistress and barely there eyebrows - I always knew there was something odd about her face. We were up in the solar where Abigail and lady Georgiana were engaged in a compilation embroidery making.'It's the nerves my
I had pictured Marquess Montclair to be a black haired devil with a mischievous smile. Moreover, that was exactly how his friend, Viscount of Bart, Viscount Neville looked; his black hair was brushed- or gelled-, to perfection, no single strand out of places, his lips curved in a mischievous tilt as he appeared to listen with rapturous attention to what Abigail was saying to a small group of the crowd around the table, him included. But as I moved around replaying glasses and plates, I noticed that his eyes kept wandering down her cleavage. Despicable, I concluded.Marquess Montclair, on the other hand, had ruffle wavy blonde hair that looked as if a hand had run through it many of times. The chandelier above illuminated his hair making it look like a halo around his head. His head was bent as he muttered something in low voice to an elderly man sitting by his side - whom I recognized as Mr Nelbet, a business associate of Mr Maxwell and oft came to tea-, who roared with laught
'Good bye mother. I can't believe you are already leaving, we haven't even seen half of London yet. Why? There is the-'Mrs Stanley let out a breathy laugh, interrupting Abigail's prattle. 'Oh Abigail, i believe we had stayed here enough and you'd have enough time to see the whole of London, just not with me.' She took a hold of her daughter's cold hands in her gloved ones and squeezed them. 'Take care of yourself. And you to papa', she moved to kiss Mr Maxwell's weathered cheek. 'Oh yes dear. It really is a pity to see you all go so soon'. And then he smiled what was to be sadly.Mrs Stanley moved to say goodbye to her sister and Abigail to her father and grandfather.Soon they were bundled comfortably in the warm interior of the stage coach and we waved goodbye as it rolled away till it made a bend and we could not see it again. It was as i watched the tail of it disappear that i did wander about Mr Maxwell's strange smile. The tip of his mouth ha
Abigail's excitement had finally rubbed off on me. We were on the last leg of Devon and although i was a separate coach with the luggage, i couldn't help the excitement rolling off me with every bump the coach made.Devon, if i had not mentioned this afore now, was the county we lived in and was now leaving behind. Mrs Stanley and Master Stanley Jr were lord and lady of Devon and Master Stanley, Sire. That meant Abigail was a lady, which we all knew but oft did not use, preferring instead to address them or refer to them as Master, madame and miss. But as London drew closer to us or we to it ada nail to magnet, it was soon to come to my realization that such tittles were not to be ignored and that London was not only the place to send Abigail off into matrimony, there was more to the story.London loomed up ahead of my horizon, finally. After i had bid my family and friend a fare-thee-well, we embarked on&nb
Days past, four months was drawing near and summer was here. Which meant traveling was a lot easier than in winter.If hadn't mentioned it before, the Stanley had a large plantation of grains, but not only that, they also cultivated cotton. Summer also meant harvest and so many of my days were taken up in either of the fields. This certainly explained why the Stanley's and others like them, felt the need to buy a lot of slaves. But i didn't know how i felt about that now; if u blacks were meant to work in the fields and houses as servants and do other strenuous works, why then had the Stanley father and son, and mother of course, chosen me as an abigail for their Abigail?The sun beat down on us, soaking into my dress and heating up the threads that made up my cotton dress. Was i getting more brown? I always had a light skin completion which had mayhap gotten lighter before from frequently staying in doors more