Rose Hill, 1778
Quinn rang the bell as she woke up, and a second later Rachel was by her door. After a few weeks, Rachel had learned the time Quinn was suppose to wake up and always made sure to be ready when she was needed. Serving Quinn was still one of her greatest nightmares and she looked forward to day Quinn would pay for how she treated her - but until that day, she was better off avoiding further punishments.
"Good morning, miss Quinn." Rachel whispered as she entered the room. Quinn never answered.
Rachel set the tray with Quinn's breakfast at her nightstand - Quinn would rather eat in her room when her father left early in the morning for business - and walked over to open the curtains. Quinn closed her eyes with a groan when the sun rays breached into the room. Rachel smirked. Even the small infliction of pain in Quinn's face made her joyful.
While Quinn ate, Rachel waited silently by the door. She avoided looking at Quinn by all costs, but sometimes she couldn't avoid it - even if just by the corner of her eyes. She watched as Quinn tore the bread apart, with a look of pure disgust in her face before shoving it to the side of her tray and deciding to settle for the fruits instead. If Rachel had ever reacted to food in that way, her mother would have swatted her bottom.
Once Quinn was done, she would sit in the dressing table where Rachel would brush and fix her hair. She wasn't the one to brag, but she had become quite skillful at managing the blond locks and was even able to enjoy running her fingers through such smooth hair. When Quinn was pleased with her looks - which could take a minute or hours, depending on her mood - she would enter the dressing room to change while Rachel took her breakfast tray outside.
Rachel was already waiting for her again when Quinn came out of the dressing room, and it was when her torture began everyday. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't catch the way of tying the laces of Quinn's stays right or tight enough.
"It's loose. Undo it and start it all over again or I'll slap you in the face!" Quinn would say, again and again. It was Quinn's favorite way of punishing her, and Rachel had found her face to growing numb to it but Quinn soon realized it, and started slapping her harder.
Rachel liked routine. She felt it to be reassuring and thrived under it. But clearly, Quinn didn't. Every morning she would find a new way to push Rachel out of her morning good mood and enrage her - it was almost as if she took pleasure on seeing Rachel losing control of herself. Quinn harassed her, she learned how to control herself, Quinn harassed her harder - until she blew up. She didn't think this would ever stop, and she was probably right.
"Excuse me, miss," said Dorea, stopping by Quinn's bedroom door.
"Good morning, Dorea," Quinn greeted. Rachel knew she did it on purpose - greeting everyone but her. Dorea bowed her head softly.
"Your tutor has arrived. Your mother told me to remind you that you are not to be late once again."
"I wouldn't, Dorea, if this hopeless wench of mine was able to tie one simple knot properly!" Quinn sneered.
"I can do that, miss," said Dorea, approaching them.
"No!" Rachel snapped. Dorea took one step back, and Quinn smiled. She definitely took pleasure on it. Rachel breathed in. "I can do it, Dorea, you won't be needed. Thank you."
Quinn's smile faded. Dorea left, and Rachel grabbed the two loose ends of the ribbon. She closed her eyes and on the back of her eyelids she could watch everything she hated about Quinn. She could watch every single atrocity Quinn had put her through. And with all the furor inside her body, she pulled the ribbon. Quinn's spine snapped and she gasped.
"Is this tight enough, miss Quinn?" She asked, her voice as mockery as it could get.
Quinn ignored her and left. It felt better than any approval.
Quinn walked into the library, where her tutor waited for her, and was followed by Rachel. She didn't look back, but once she sat down she was able to see the look in Rachel's face. Quinn could bet the girl had never entered a library, as her mouth fell agape.
"Good morning, Mr. Henn," said Quinn. "I apologize for my delay. I had some… inconveniences this morning."
"You're pardoned, miss Quinn." He fixed his round glasses up on his nose, and retrieved a book from the bag sitting near him. "I assume you have for once read your recommended literature?" Quinn knew he was doubting her. Given, she wasn't the most avid reader. But this particular book had annoyed her to no end. Most of the books he recommended did so.
"As a matter of fact, I did read it. The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Goethe," she said, going straight to the book in question among all the others. "Unfortunately, I have to tell you I absolutely despised it though." He rose an eyebrow. "And I'm afraid I couldn't finish it."
"And why is that, miss Quinn?" He chuckled. She hated how he acted like this was expected. One day she would read the whole book, just to catch him surprised.
"Mr. Henn, the protagonist of this piece is dreadful." Her tutor choked on air, as if she had deeply offended him. "I simply can't stand the way he talks about unrequited love. In fact, I'm not even sure I would call it love - it was more of an obsession. I have a feeling the whole matter could be solved if someone had just slapped him back into his senses."
"I take you've never experienced this kind of love, Miss Quinn," he says. She wasn't sure if she had experienced any kind of love, actually. But she wasn't willing to share that thought. "Unrequited love is the most painful kind to ever exist. Its flames consume one's soul and burns like fever. It's the biggest punishment we can bring on ourselves."
"Still," Quinn shook her head with a pout of disdain. "I don't see the need for such drama. He was purely delusional."
"Well, Miss Quinn, in that case I have the perfect assignment for you," he clasped his hands together on top of his lap. "I want you to take the passage you took as most over dramatic and re-write it as if you were the one loving someone you could never have. You're free to write how you would react on such context."
Quinn groaned, burying herself in the chair. It was all she did not want to do, write about love - or the lack of it. That's only one of the reasons she hated her lessons.
"Oh, and please, remember to work on your penmanship like we did last week."
"Do any of you know how to read?" Rachel asked, propping the weight of her head in her hands. Lou Lee shook her head and so did Dorea - but Abbie didn't answer her. "Do you, Abbie?"
"She does. She got tutored!" Lou Lee said with pride. Rachel admired their relationship - it was almost as if they were sisters, one always being happy with the other's achievements. She was glad to be so easily accepted into their little family, and sharing the kitchen house with them was by far the best moments of her days.
"But only because I needed to read the recipes madam Judy brings me," she explained.
"Have you seen how many books they have in the library, Abbie?" Rachel asked, and she nodded. "Isn't it wonderful? I had never seen such a big library."
"I'm not allowed to read books, though." Abbie shrugged, and Rachel sighed.
"Would you teach us, Abbie?" Rachel asked, turning to Lou Lee who nodded in excitement.
"Slaves are not allowed to teach other slaves how to read," Dorea said, taking the words out of Abbie's mouth. "You should know that already. I don't want you getting in trouble!" She reinforced it, playfully grabbing Lou Lee's ear.
"They say that slaves who learn how to read end up with the wrong ideas." Abbie grumbled sympathetically.
"Well, what if you told madam Judy you needed help in the kitchen? Maybe we could say you needed me to read the recipes while you did then!" Rachel tried, knowing Abbie wouldn't have the heart to tell her no. "Please, Abbie! That would be my dream come true!" She begged, hands clasped in front of her.
"Alright, alright. I'll tell her." Abbie rolled her eyes and Lou Lee grinned even more excited than Rachel herself. "But be prepared, because chances are she'll say no!"
"Are you coming to the party tonight, Rachel?" Dorea asked, changing the subject before the girls got too excited.
"What party?" Rachel frowned.
"The crop over party! Haven't you heard of it?" Lou Lee asked, and Rachel shook her head. "It's the party to celebrate when the slaves down the quarters are done with harvesting. We get extra meat in our rations and there's music and there's dancing…" She sighed fancifully. "It's the best night of the year!"
"Well, I suppose I'm going then! It sounds amazing!" Her smile grew. Abbie giggled and shook her head at Rachel's enthusiasm. "Do you think they will let me?" She asked.
"Oh, yes," Dorea said. "It's Mr. Russell's tradition to give everyone a break for the party. I don't suppose it would be different with you!"
But only she knew what Quinn was capable of.
"Will you be coming to the party tonight, Quinn?" George asked during supper. Quinn pushed a piece of chicken to the other side of her plate, contemplating an answer.
"Must I?" She asked with a small frown, playing with a piece of chicken from her plate. She had been to those parties before and she definitely didn't like them. The amount of slaves dancing, and singing, and eating as if they were free, disturbed her.
"Well, I suppose you're not compelled to attend if you don't want to," he answered truthfully, taking a sip of wine as they fell in silence. "I would enjoy your company, though."
"I think you should go, my dear," her father encouraged. "As I've said before, you'll be running this farm one day. This is the kind of thing that can save you a lot of trouble in the future. Get the slaves to sympathize with you already."
"Miss Quinn, am I allowed to go?" Rachel took a step forward to ask. It was impossible to determine who was more shocked about her interruption, Dorea or Quinn.
"Bold of you to interrupt our supper to ask for a favor." Russell commented, raising an eyebrow. Quinn knew Rachel had immediately regretted her decision.
"She really won't ever learn how to hold her tongue." Quinn shook her head, covering her face with her hand. The interruption wasn't even what bothered her the most, but the fact that this situation would show her parents how she still wasn't able to control her own slave.
"All the slaves are allowed to come, Rachel," said George. No one had the courage to speak against him - not even his father. No one wanted to start a scene, and they had realized George was all for it lately.
"Talking about boldness," said Judy, "I was informed this afternoon that this slave of yours, Quinn, has been asking around to be taught how to read."
Quinn scoffed incredulous. Rachel really had more nerve than Quinn thought at the first place.
"Why would she want that?" Russell asked his wife, ignoring Rachel's presence in the room. Quinn watched Rachel's cheeks grow pink and was happy to see she wouldn't be alone in her affliction that night.
"Apparently she wants to be able to help Abbie in the kitchen, with the recipes," said Judy passing along the information she had received.
"Nonsense," Quinn replied, bringing a napkin to her mouth. "She doesn't have time for that. Or at least she shouldn't have, if she was doing all her chores."
"Well, I think it could be useful to have another slave who is able to read in our house. In case we have an emergency." George argued. Quinn wondered if he took pride in constantly disagreeing with their family.
"What kind of emergency would require reading, George?" Russell shook his head. "Reading makes they think they're entitled to an opinion. Which they aren't. At least not my slaves."
"Perhaps if you-" George tried to argue back, but Russell had enough of it for the night.
"George, this is not up for discussion. You can do differently when you have your own slaves."
George gasped, and Quinn smiled behind her napkin. It was nice to finally have her parents on her side instead of his.
"I will never have slaves of my own." He said coldly, before getting up and leaving without excusing himself. If Quinn ever did that, she would be in deep trouble. The perks of being a boy.
"Good luck living like that, dear," Judy whispered beneath her breath.
The Fabrays walked over to the drawing room where the ladies had their tea and the men finished their wines after supper. Meanwhile, the slaves were dismissed earlier - against Quinn's wishes - to get ready for their party.
"Oh, goodness, you all look beautiful!" Rachel exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth, once she entered the kitchen house and found Dorea, Lou Lee and Abbie dressing up.
"Thank you!" Lou Lee grinned, swirling around in her gown.
"I've got something for you to wear, Rachel!" Said Dorea. She came in carrying a long bright blue gown, with golden embroidery on the edge of the sleeves. "I figured this would match your shift nicely and go well with your petticoat."
"Oh my, it's too beautiful Dorea! I can't take this!" Rachel shook her head with glistening eyes. She had never wore such luxurious gown.
"Yes, you can, dear," Dorea insisted. "It made it for Lou a few years ago, but it doesn't fit her anymore. You're shorter and smaller than her, I'm sure it will fit you. There's no reason to keep it inside the closet!"
"Please, Rachel! You'll look stunning!" Said Lou Lee, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the room. "I won't let you leave the room until you try it!"
Rachel rolled her eyes playfully, but put on the gown. It felt foreign to carry so much weight on her body, but even through the small mirror she could see how different she looked. The blue made her skin pop, and for a second she could almost say she found herself beautiful. She had barely managed to open the door, and the three other woman were already swooning over how she looked.
"You look like an absolute princess!" Abbie said, pulling a chair. "Sit in here, I'll do your hair!"
Not too long later, they were all ready to go. But Rachel knew her fairytales never lasted for long, and her stomach dropped when the bell from Quinn's bedroom rang. Rachel sighed, but waved her hand dismissively.
"You guys can go ahead, I'll check what she wants and be right there!" She said with a small smile.
"Are you sure?" Lou Lee asked, and Rachel nodded. She could do nothing but hope that Quinn wouldn't give her any trouble about going.
"Miss Quinn?" Rachel knocked on the door before opening it. "Do you need anything?"
Rachel came inside, and Quinn dropped the empty cup of tea she held. Rachel hurried to grab the shattered pieces from the floor - before Quinn could step on them - and almost failed to notice Quinn's blushing cheeks.
"Why are you dressed like this?" Quinn asked with a frown. Suddenly Rachel felt too self-conscious, and wondered if her clothes really looked as good as the girls had told her. Maybe she should have just sticked with her usual shift and plain gowns.
"For… the party. Miss Quinn." Rachel explained hesitantly, but Quinn dismissed her reply and laid in bed. Rachel bit her inner cheeks. "I take you aren't coming, then." And Quinn ignored her once more. "Miss? What did you need me for?"
"Oh," Quinn answered with a small gasp, as if she had forgotten her reasons. "It was to take the cup downstairs. I don't want any ants coming up to my room. But that's taken care of now. You may leave for your party."
"Thank you, miss Quinn." Rachel bowed lightly. "Goodnight," she said before closing the door behind her.
Quinn had been oddly speechless. Was it possible she had stunned her miss?
She shook her head, reminding to not fool herself and carried the broken cup to the trash to finally go out to the party.
Rachel had no idea what to do first. She wanted eat enough meat to make up for all the years she barely got any, but she wanted to dance by the fire with everyone else and she just couldn't choose which one she wanted more. She had never seen anything like that. She had never seen slaves so happy.
Russell and Judy swirled among the slaves and for a second Rachel almost forgot about who they really were. George danced with a slave! Rachel thought she would die before seeing a white man from the big house dancing with a slave in front of everyone and not being ashamed at all by it. If she didn't feel the cold breezy against her hair and the delicious taste of the food, she would be sure it was all a dream.
When she had eaten enough to fill her stomach, she got up to dance with everyone else. She let the music, so rare in that farm, flood her ears and she spun around and around and around. With her eyes closed, she remembered of how Quinn danced in her lessons and tried to mimic it, although she knew she wouldn't have a shred of her miss' grace. But she was having fun, and that was all that mattered at the time - until someone stopped her placing a hand on her shoulder, and her eyes shot open.
"Rachel!" Lou Lee grinned mischievously. "This is Jackson," she pointed to the guy right by her side. "Jackson, this is Rachel. She's Quinn's new slave."
"Nice to meet you, Rachel," he smirked, reaching out for her hand and pressing a kiss there before she could even blink. There were few things that annoyed her more than unwanted and unadvised touches. She had her reasons.
"Jackson is dying for a chance to dance with you!" Lou Lee cheered, grabbing Rachel's hand and placing on his shoulder. "I told him you would absolutely give him the honor. Won't you?"
No, she wanted to say. But Lou Lee's eyes pleaded, and she owned her a favor - after all, she was wearing her dress. Jackson's eyes yearned, and she couldn't be deceiving - her hands were already placed to dance. And her tongue felt tied - she couldn't say no.
Rachel twirled in Jackson's arms for what felt like hours. She tried to find an out, but everyone was busy having fun, and she tried to convince herself she was doing the same. When she gathered enough courage to open her eyes, she found Quinn by her bedroom's window looking straight at her direction. And Rachel couldn't help to compare how Jackson would never be able to dance like Quinn did.