Captured (in Love)

--Light Heart

Hours later, Light Heart found herself doing her nightly ritual of brushing Mrs. Carlton's wheat colored hair sprinkled with strands of gray.

"Do you find my husband attractive?"

Light Heart paused from brushing her hair confused. "...Ma'am?"

"Do. you. find. my. husband. attractive?" she snapped, whirling around to face her.

Light Heart didn't know what she was getting at and wasn't sure what to say. "I-"

"Oh, don't you play coy with me. You know very well what I mean," she said frustrated, snatching the brush from her and placing it on her vanity table. "He thinks I don't know about his little conquests... about his

affairs

. I tolerate it because a woman in my position has to take the good with the bad."

She straightened in her chair and looked at herself in the mirror. "I am Mrs. Derrick Carlton, the mayors wife. I know a man has needs and those needs must be met." Loretta Carlton whirled around in her chair again and stood up, her index finger jutting Light Heart in the chest.

"But if you

think

to sleep with

my

husband under my own

roof

, you're sorely mistaken," she warned. Light Heart rubbed her chest where Ms. Carlton's bony finger had jabbed her and watched as she walked away in a whirlwind of outrage and frustration while continuing her rants.

"I saw the way he looked at you. I hear all about women who have some nigger slave bedding down with their husbands in their own house and worse, ending up pregnant with some bastard nigger baby in her. I'll not have that happen in my own house, ya hear! " she shrilled.

Light Heart was taken aback and shook her head violently. "I won't ma'am." The thought of sleeping with Mr. Carlton as husband and wife was enough to make her nauseous.

Mrs. Carlton stood still for a moment, the energy seeming to drain from her body, then flopped down on her bed and gestured to the door. "Get out. I won't be needing you for now."

Light Heart couldn't get out fast enough. She closed the door behind her and made her way downstairs to see if Pat or the other slaves needed help in the kitchen before she went to bed herself. On her way there, she passed the parlor only to see the young master sitting in a chair reading. She tried being quiet passing, but as her luck would have it, he happened to look up at the right moment and see her.

"Ruth," he called.

She stood frozen on the spot and wondered if she should keep walking and pretend that she didn't hear him.

"Come here Ruth," he said in a voice that expected to be obeyed.

Slowly, she walked past the double doors of the parlor and stood a few feet away from him. "Sir?"

He didn't speak, only looked at her. In the growing silence, she became nervous and started to wring her hands.

"Is there something you wanted Sir?"

"You don't talk like a slave," he observed, pouring himself a drink from a decanter. Of what, she wasn't sure.

Light Heart didn't answer to his observation; just stood still waiting to meet his request. She loathed standing there in the middle of the floor, waiting on a spoiled pampered brat. She was to obey any request he made on a whim, and she could do nothing about it.

"There's a book I can't find. I need you to retrieve it for me. It's called

The Canterbury Tales

by Geoffery Chaucer." He motioned to the books stacked on the bookshelf.

Wordlessly, she walked towards the bookshelf and studied the titles on the fat volumes. She wasn't sure how he could

not

find it, considering most of the titles were in alphabetical order. She figured it was just another asinine request from a man used to getting whatever he wanted.

Once she found it, she extended the novel out to him only for him to glance at the title, then sharply say, "Close the door."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, thinking she had angered him and wasn't looking forward to being punished by this dark featured family member, who the other slaves said had a temper and was not to be messed with.

"Do it," he snapped with more force.

Light Heart quickly turned around and shut the double doors, her hands trembling. She was now enclosed in a room alone with this man who could do anything to her.

"Sit," he ordered, pouring himself another drink.

She obeyed, not wishing to make him any angrier than he already was. The pale skinned people seemed to have unstable emotions. One minute they were fine and the next, they were snapping at you over something.

"You can read," he stated once she sat down. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. "How long have you been a slave?"

"... I was captured almost two moons ago."

"So you weren't born a slave?" he asked.

"No sir." She was puzzled by his questions until he shook his head.

"You're lucky you didn't do that in front of anyone else."

"Do what?" Now she was really puzzled.

"Read," he said exasperated at her lack of understanding. "Slaves don't read. Slaves can get hanged for reading... or worse."

Light Heart stilled and gulped, her heart hammering in her chest. How could she have been so stupid?!

Inwardly, she berated herself. Hadn't her father told her how he wasn't allowed to even

try

to read before he had taught himself? Hadn't he told her how the pale skinned people wouldn't tolerate a slave to even

look

at a book?

Would he tell? Would she be hanged? What of her family? How would they know? The thought of never seeing her father, strong and wise; her mother, beautiful and serene; nor her sister or baby sibling brought tears to her eyes.

"I... I wasn't thinking. It was habit," Light Heart said, wringing her hands in her lap, then looking at him pleading with her eyes. "I'm sorry. Please, I didn't mean any harm."

"I'm not going to tell, so stop crying," he said roughly, looking away from her.

"Thank you," she told him, relief coating her voice.

"Just be more careful," he warned, playing with his glass and looking at her.

"Yes sir."

Light Heart was about to stand when he ordered her to sit back down. Now what did he want?

"What books have you read?"

Was he trying to start a conversation with her? Why? It didn't seem like that was the way things were done in this part of the country.

Upon her hesitation, he swept his fingers through his hair again and sighed heavily while relaxing back into his chair. "I can't seem to fall asleep, hence the brandy, and I'd rather have a pretty face to look at than rereading—" he paused to glance down at the book in his lap then back at her, "—Mr. Alighieri's

Inferno

for the umpteenth time," he explained. "Now... what books have you read?"

At first, conversation was stilted, with her hesitation preventing her to answer most of his questions, but after two hours, they had conversed about books and authors and eventually, his childhood. The brandy helped loosen his tongue and he started talking about his younger days, before his stepmother, when his mother was still alive.

"I miss her," he was saying, staring off into a memory. "She was... perfect. I suspect any man would say that about their mother...but she was. She was soft and gentle and she and my father would laugh until the sun rose and the moon blanketed the sky." He shook his head, and gulped more brandy.

"I miss my mother too," Light Heart heard herself saying.

There was a pause as he looked at her and she looked down, trying to keep the tears at bay. They both knew it was different to loose a mother from death, than be forced to be away from her. If she wasn't at the Carlton's house, and if it hadn't been for her capture, she would be safe and sound at home this very moment.

He cleared his throat to break the awkward pause and asked her, "What's she like?"

Light Heart smiled as her mother came in her minds eye. "She's perfect," she said, using his word from before. "I favor her in looks but ... she's everything I'm not. She's patient and understanding and always knows what to do or say..." Light Heart felt his eyes intently on her and she felt uncomfortable again.

"I'm sorry. I speak too much," she apologized. "It is late... I should go to bed."

----Jack

By now, his mind was somewhat foggy and he knew the hour was late, but he was enjoying himself too much in her presence. There was a comforting quality about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on and he didn't want her to leave just yet.

"What's your name?" he asked, the question hitting her back since she faced the door.

"Ruth," she answered without turning around.

"Your real name." His curiosity wanted to know what kinds of name was bestowed upon the beauty before him.

"Light Heart."

"Light Heart," he repeated, tasting the name in his mouth.

She started for the door but before she could open it, it opened in front of her to reveal his father in night clothes. Even from where Jack sat, he noticed the recognition and then delight on his fathers face at seeing Light Heart standing there.

"I just came down for a glass of warm milk," he explained, glancing at Jack and then giving his full attention back to Light Heart.

"I can get it for you Master Carlton," she said softly, trying to go past him and make an escape. Instead of leaving the room, she was stopped by his hand that snaked out to grab her arm and pull her close. He smelled her hair and let out an audible sigh.

Derrick Carlton had over eighty slaves to his name, and though he wasn't downright cruel to them, he could be in the blink of an eye if he felt like he was being disobeyed. He expected obedience and if his orders weren't carried out, he was swift with punishment.

Light Heart was pressed against his body, helpless as his father road his large hands over her person.

"Very nice," he said appreciatively, once he came down to her rear. Another hand pawed at her breast and squeezed slightly, causing her to gasp and look away. Only Jack saw the tears forming in her eyes and looked away. He hated seeing women cry.

"Now you don't want to get me upset now, do ya girl?" his father was saying. Light Heart was struggling against him with little success. "You're my property and I aim to do what I please with ya."

Jack probably wouldn't have been bothered by it so much if it were a slave he hadn't just discussed Shakespeare with, but it was; and seeing her mauled this way didn't sit well with him.

"Come have a drink with your favorite son," he said, raising the decanter to his father trying to distract him.

The older man laughed and glanced at him. "You're my

only

son."

"All the more reason to have a drink with me."

Jack watched as Light Heart's body trembled in his fathers clutches. He seemed mesmerized by her beauty and trailed a finger down her face, even after she looked away. "Ain't she a purty injun gal? I'm gonna have to thank Tom tomorrow for bringin' her to me."

"Please," she begged quietly. "I-"

She was cut off by a strong slap across the face followed by being yanked by his father in a tightening grip. Watching the exchange made Jack sick to his stomach and he tried wracking his liquor filled brain with a way to get her out of this mess.

"You don't seem to get it, do ya girl?" he was saying through clenched teeth with a hand on her throat. "I own you. You belong to me. I'll not be talked back to, do you understand?"

"Yes Master Carlton," she managed to say before he pressed her against a nearby wall and grinded into her.

"Come on Jack. Let's teach this whore who runs things 'round here," his father said, pulling on her braid and laughing when she cried out.

For some reason, Jack was getting extremely upset. He didn't have time to evaluate his feelings and he knew he could easily get a temper, but this was beyond test to his temperament. He was white hot angry to the point he was seething and loathing his father.

"Leave her alone," he ground out evenly.

Both his father and Light Heart looked at him bewildered but for different reasons.

"What're you talking boy? You never had a nigger gal before? We can both do her," he said, starting to pull down his night pants.

Jack went up to her and pulled her away by the arm. "Go to bed," he ordered, still trying to keep his anger in check.

"Now wait just a minute," his father sputtered. "Have you forgotten who you're talkin' to?"

Jack once again couldn't come up with a logical reason to his sudden fierce bout of anger and concluded that it may have been the brandy that had some part to it. In any event, his only mission at the moment was to ensure Light Heart was able to go safely into her bed alone.

"Go to bed Pop," Jack said still keeping his gaze on the frightened slave girl before him.

"You better not move a muscle gal," Derrick barked. Light Heart stood stark still, glancing between the two, not sure of who to listen.

"Ruth," Jack said, careful not to use the name she had given him, "Go upstairs to bed...

now

," he growled. Without looking back, she made a hasty retreat. Momentarily satisfied to see she had gone, Jack turned back to his father to find him standing there with a scowl on his face.

"What's the meaning of this?... In my own home? Don't forget who's boss here boy," his father said angrily. "I know they treat 'em all different up there in the north, but you're in the south now."

"I was doing you a favor," Jack snapped, wondering how a slip of a girl, a slave no less, could be the cause of friction between himself and his father. "She's your wife's maid and you're trying to fuck her right here in the parlor," he hissed.

"And that's

my

own business," came the retort. "Not like you give a damn about your stepmothers feelings anyway."

Jack didn't have a response to that because he spoke the truth, but being that it was late and he was disgusted with the matter, he headed upstairs to go to bed.

-----Light Heart

It had been two days since the incident in the parlor and it gave Light Heart more fuel to her plans to escape. Pat shook her head whenever she told her of her plans and said she was talking foolish and to be grateful she ended up at the mayor's house and not somewhere worse doing unmentionable things that a young girl such as herself usually found herself doing.

Today though, she sat outside in the grass along with the other slaves, listening to the pale skinned preacher give a sermon on how God said in the Bible that some people were meant to be slaves and, by obeying the slave masters, you would gain favor and see the Kingdom of Heaven when the day finally came to meet the Heavenly Father.

There was a slight chill in the air and she wrapped the tattered shawl Maby had given her earlier that morning. Maby worked as one of the housekeepers, cleaning many of the numerous rooms in the house. She only just started talking to her recently and thought that perhaps she had found a friend closer in age, but it became apparent why Maby had befriended her after the service when the slaves were allowed to gather and socialize for the next hour.

"Ruth... Ruth," she waved, walking by with a large man in step with her. She smiled a winsome smile and two dimples formed on either side of her cheeks. "This hea's my brother, Big George. He's been wantin' to meet you ever'n since he seen you come out that carriage wit' Massa Tom."

Light Heart looked up at the man Maby called Big George" and felt incredibly small standing in front of him. He was atleast three heads taller than her with a complexion just like her fathers; dark and rich. On his arms though, there were a multitude of scars. Unlike his sister, who had angular features and thin frame, he was solid and muscular. A small smile graced his lips and Light Heart knew a lot of girls would consider him attractive.

"Nice to meet you Miss. Ruth" he said in a deep and full voice with his hand extended.

"Same to you," she said, putting her small hand into his. His eyes penetrated her and she squirmed under its intense gaze. She looked away only to realize that Maby had mysteriously vanished leaving her alone with her brother.

"I was wondering, if you wouldn't mind comin' to the dinner tonight with me," he asked her. The "dinner" he was referring to was the one the slaves had on Sundays. In the middle of all the cabins, they ate and sang and talked and laughed, and all the while, she remained inside being that she was to be at Mrs. Carlton's side. As if reading her mind, he tried persuading her.

"Now, I know the missus likes havin' you like a fly on a hog, but... maybe you could ask Pat to ask her into seein' if she could take you wit' her. Mrs. Carlton has a soft spot for her."

Light Heart didn't know what to say. She desperately wanted to escape the house and be around anyone else beside the pale people in the house, but she wasn't sure if she liked the way Big George was looking at her.

"I can't make any promises but I'll see," she offered, taking her hand back.

A wide smile broke on his face and he nodded. "Jest try. I hope I'll be seein' you tonight."

Hesitantly, she smiled back and made an exit back to the house seeking out Pat, who was assumedly in the kitchen. Once there, she put on an apron and helped her snap peas knowing she had atleast another hour before the family came back from church and she'd be at Mrs. Carlton's beck and call again.

"Pat, do you think you could ask Mrs. Carlton if I can go to dinner with you tonight?"

"Sho' honey... I didn't think you was ever wantin' in goin'... Pass me that slab of butter ova there on the table."

Light Heart searched for the butter and after handing it to her, grabbed some more peas. "Well, I figured she wouldn't let me go since she likes calling me to do things for her all day... and a man named Big George asked me to go."

At that, Pat looked up and stopped kneeding the dough for the meat pie she was preparing. "What business you got with Big George?"

"Nothing. He just asked me to go after the service and-"

"Now you listen to me," she huffed, going about her work again. "Big George is a nice young man, but he's done got it in his head to gone up to the north. That type of thinkin' can get you whooped... or worse," she trailed off, stopping once more to glance at Light Heart. "Listen sugar, you's a nice gal and I just don't want you findin' trouble when Lord knows you don't need it."

"I understand," Light Heart said solemnly, but inside, her heart was racing. Escape? To the north? Maybe meeting him wasn't a mistake after all. She really needed to go to this dinner now, if to only talk to him about his plans to leave this place.

"Please," she started again, trying to sound forlorn. "I just want to meet other people... I don't like being cooped up in the house with no one to talk to half the time." She put her head down for more effect and hesitantly glanced up to see Pat roll her eyes.

"Chile, please. Don't think I don't know what you're up to," she cackled to herself. Then, she got serious and shook her head, placing the dough into the pan. "Don't say I didn't warn you."