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Chapter Twelve
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56
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
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Fifty years Chapter Thirteen
'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
Fifty years Chapter Fourteen
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
Fifty years Chapter Fifteen
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
Fifty years Chapter Sixteen
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
Fifty years Chapter Seventeen
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
Fifty years Chapter Eighteen
'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
Fifty years Chapter Nineteen
'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
Fifty years Prolouge
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
Latest chapter
Fifty years Chapter Nineteen
'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
Fifty years Chapter Eighteen
'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
Fifty years Chapter Seventeen
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
Fifty years Chapter Sixteen
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
Fifty years Chapter Fifteen
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
Fifty years Chapter Fourteen
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
Fifty years Chapter Thirteen
'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
Fifty years Chapter Twelve
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
Fifty years Chapter Eleven
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
