Page 8 of The Roses I Left Behind (The Bellevue Trilogy)

“Fannie!”

After a few seconds, Rosetta, a young slave girl, entered. “Yes, Missus White?”

“I called for Fannie, not you!”

The girl bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Missus.”

Elizabeth grabbed the girl by an arm and brought her to the edge of the bed where the coverlet lay.

“What is this?”

“I don’t rightly know, Missus White.”

“It’s a stain! Adirtstain. I know how things are supposed to look when they are laundered properly and this isn’t it. This is absolutely horrid. Take it off. The whole thing.”

“Yes, Missus White...” Rosetta scrambled to remove the heavy sheets from the bed.

“And there better be new sheets on this bed by the time I’m done with my breakfast.”

“Yes, Missus White...”

“Where’s Fanny?”

“I think she’s cleaning Miss Mary’s room.”

“You think?”

“Yes, ma’am, she is.”

Elizabeth stormed out her bedroom and made her way to Mary’s room on the other side of the long hall. When she neared the room, she could hear Fanny and another slave laughing and talking in low tones.

“You heard ‘em in there last night, didn’t you?” Fannie said, unaware of Elizabeth’s presence near the door.

“Uh-huh, I sho’ did,” the younger house slave said. “Could barely sleep.”

“You know you wish that was you.”

The women shared a suppressed laugh. “And you, too.”

“Please, the only man I be wantin’ is Jack, you know that.”

“He not as good-lookin’ as Massa Thomas?”

“I never thought about it,” Fannie admitted.

“If you wink at him enough he might just look at you.”

“Tch, he married now. He ain’t lookin’ at nobody ‘round here, especially if they ain’t half yellow.”

“Yeah, you right. I guess Jeyne was the last one.”

“Be careful about saying her name too loud,” Fannie warned with a hand on her hip. “Lizzie will put a hurt on you, for sho.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She could take no more. She turned towards the spiral staircase, all too aware that confronting the women would have done no good. The whispers and gossip lived in all the slaves. No, something more drastic was needed to get their attention. She had to let them all know that she was the mistress of Bellevue and that she would no longer tolerate anyone talking about Thomas’ nigger wench in her presence.

Chapter Fifteen

Lizzie moved swiftly about the dining room laying out plats of ham, grits, biscuits and gravy

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