AN: I realize now that I cut this chapter short. But since eight people have already read it I will most likely update again sometime today, this story is boiling in my blood. Review if you want more.
The ride didn't take long. I watched my betrothed from under the fall of my lashes. He lounged with his hands so big and long upon the hardness of his stomach. He wore a coat of black with fur about the collar. His manner was relaxed and ready both at once. His lids raised a sweep of soot to show the flare of his bright gaze. A smile crept across his lips "Are you finished eye fucking me?" Laughter rode beneath his voice.
I flushed and turned to the window. "Tit ain't proper to speak to my Sookie that way Mister," Minnie said sharply. I realized when she blanched at his expression that Minnie had rarely known the viciousness of my race. She'd been born on my family's land and my Grandfather had taught her to read. "When I want the opinion of a slave I will ask for it," his voice was soft but the promise of violence was beneath it.
I bristled "Don't talk to her that way."
Eric gave me a look filled with deadly patience "I will talk to her any way I please, you see I purchased her from your father. She is mine. Much like you are."
I felt the blood drain from my face and limbs, one hand went to Minnie's dusky one and I squeezed. He saw our joined hands and a look of limitless distaste curled his lip. Yet he said nothing and made no move to pry us apart.
One white hand went to the window and he drew the shade down and into shadows we sank. My palm began to sweat as I tried to decipher his mood. It was to become something I would do for the rest of my days. My fingers unclenched from Minnie's hand. He noticed and seemed pleased.
We arrived at the feet of New Orleans and went far beyond it to the west of the great city. The house was vast with at least twenty snow white columns and sat in unnatural shadow as if it repelled the sunlight. All around it was a grove of Magnolia trees. Before that down the long gravel dusted drive weeping willows had graced both sides. Spanish moss moved like wraiths in the still hot air.
Summer leaves Louisiana only with great reluctance as if it were a widow beside the body of her loved one. Fall was upon the land and here and there I caught glimpses of leaves turning red or brown. But most would stay green I knew. The seasons change but the landscape remains nearly the same no matter the time of year. The white blossoms of the magnolias scented the air with a heavy cloying perfume. He touched me for only the second time when his hands went about my waist to lift me down. His big fingers overlapped and he looked into my eyes "What a little doll you are," he whispered. I shivered as his lips drew near mine but at the last second he pulled back.
His eyes seemed to be the sky so fully did he dominate me with their depths. He took my hand in his and it swallowed my bones. "This is to be your home, it is named Elysian," he informed bringing me to the porch where an army of slaves stood at attention.
I looked carefully at their expressions trying to gauge his treatment of them. Their faces were carefully stoic and they all knelt before him when he ascended the stairs. I had never in my life seen slaves behave in such a way and I must have made a disgusted face for he laughed. "Rise and meet your new Mistress," his tone was surprisingly kind.
A few smiles came and they curtsied or bowed according to their sex. "Pleased to meet ya Mistress," they murmured with averted eyes. I glanced to Eric wanting to question him about their kneeling which I found repellent. His eyes slitted and he put one finger to my lips.
I got the message; I was never to question him before his slaves. It took two slaves to open the massive doors. They were white and heavily carved with knights and above their wooden expressions was stained glass with a maiden kneeling. It was sign I felt but of what I didn't know.
Inside the home was a sort of opulence that I'd never witnessed. A chandelier hung above the foyer of the finest crystal with thick beeswax candles their many heads unscorched. Of course he wouldn't use the same candles more than once I thought.
He released my hand and flicked a finger to a slave nearby "Take this woman to the slave quarters," he said gesturing to Minnie.
I straightened up beside him "No, she has never been quartered with them before."
He went still and his eyes became speculative and haughty "No?"
I nod "She has always stayed in a room next to mine own."
Eric's lips pursed for a moment "It is most unorthodox," he murmured. His eyes searched my face and he sighed "Will this please you?"
I glanced up at him and felt suddenly overwhelmed by him "Yes," I whisper. He looks to the slave in front of Minnie. "Very well make up a guest room somewhere near my bethrothed chambers."
I smiled tremulously and felt as though I had won something. He began to walk through the long hall and went to a room that was closed. "You are never to go into this room," he said giving me a severe expression.
"Why?" as soon as the question left me I knew I would get no answer. He smirked and pretended I had not spoken. "It is usually locked but should you find it undone, do not enter," his broad colossal back was to me and I joined him in his advancement down the passageway.
We passed two staircases with gleaming marble lines that seemed to lead endlessly into shadow. Finally we came to grand room made of glass where orchids bloomed amidst wild riotous foliage of a tropical nature. The air was thick and moist on my face. I walked to a red bloom that seemed to pulse in the sunlight. My head dipped to it and I inhaled deeply. "That is Satan's rose," he said softly in my ear.
I started "Don't sneak up on me."
He made no reply and straightened. "Do you like it?" he seemed unconcerned if I should. Boredom was his constant companion it would seem. I look around "Why do you have this?"
Eric shrugged and leaned his cheek to an errant blossom and sighed "I am a great admirer of beauty," he replied so softly that I strained to hear.
I was forced to admit as his mesmerizing eyes turned to me that there was something compelling about him. His mystery was to consume me till my dying day.
We moved from the hot house and back into the rear of the home. He led me with a gentle touch up the staircase to the left. "Where do your servants stay?" I tensed as I waited for his reply.
His eyes danced with amusement "The house slaves stay in the attic and the field ones stay in small homes on the grounds," he paused as we came to a landing. "Surely you're aware of the manner in which slaves are housed," his brow arched and his lips twitched "Your father owns over two hundred."
I said nothing and my cheeks burned. He laughed and took my arm with a light grip to lead me to the peak of the stairs into a carpeted hall. "Perhaps you were checking to see if I had them in my dungeon?"
I shook my head but he wasn't convinced.
We came to a room with the walls done in elaborate wall paper and I see my trunk open upon a great bed. The door of an armoire is ajar and my gowns are hung neatly.
My hand drifted to the wallpaper and I caressed it. His eyes are on me "I see you like to experience things fully," he said silkily. His hand covers mine and I feel a shiver go up my arm.
Eric steps free of me and beckoned me to follow "Its dinner time and no Minnie may not eat with us," he said as he went down the stairs. I bit my lip and decided that I will pick and choose my battles. After all even father had never allowed slaves to dine with us.
We step into a grand dining room with a vaulted painted ceiling with angels slaying what looked like Greek gods. The marriage of beauty and savagery reminded me of my intended who even at that moment watched me with a predatory possessive gleam.
