1763
N O V E M B E R
C H A P T E R Eleven—
The day dawned bright and beautiful, but the weather was getting very cold and bitter. A kind maid named Mercy helped Temperance and Gideon by sneaking them into her room every night instead of the barn. For that, they were very grateful.
James finished up a pot he was making. He had painted it special for Clark, since Christmas was drawing near.
Every day he had worked on it for a bit, and had hidden it under his bed for two weeks.
James was now trusted to go out into town almost everyday to fetch supplies, or to simply take a stroll around the block.
Little bits at a time, he would search for Temperance, but the truth was, he didn’t really want to leave. Clark was very kind to him, and fed him and had bought him brand new spectacles. He also supplied him with two waistcoats and a shiny pair of black buckled shoes. Clark was almost like the father James never had. But he tried to push those tempting thoughts aside. Even if he didn’t want to leave, he knew his sister well enough to know that she was probably in trouble somewhere.
James had been saving up for as long as he had been helping Clark with his work. Each time James sold a pot or sold something in the blacksmith shop, he would get one shilling. His pottery was getting better and his blacksmithing skills were improving. James was proud.
James paused from his thinking. He heard a man’s voice. It sounded like yelling. James sat up. He listened closely to the words.
“Do ya take me for an idiot? Who do you think I am?? I was trying to help you! I took your business and bore your heavy burdens! But now you’re sayin’ you can’t even pay a decent amount?”
“I’m sorry sir, I—I—I don’t know what to say.”
“You know, maybe you just shouldn’t say anything. If this happens one more time…it’s over. You’ll be without a job.”
James heard a big slam! He quietly tiptoed and peeked around the corner. Clark was holding a paper in his hands. He rubbed his forehead and sat down. “What am I to do?” James heard him say.
James looked behind him at his hidden box of precious shillings. Those were the coins that would save his sister.
Nay. He thought. I can’t give up on Temperance. He looked out the window and sighed. “Wherever she is.”
1763
D E C E M B E R
C H A P T E R Twelve—
“Oh, it shall be grand!” Mrs. Capsicum danced around the room, while simultaneously checking herself in the mirror. Finally, she stopped and went to fixing her hair and puffing her face with white powder.
The violinists and pianist were in the background practicing their music.
Temperance was drying the dishes and then setting them out on the long, twenty-foot table. Mrs. Capsicum was to host a Christmas ball, and they were to have a feast. Of course not Temperance and Gideon and all the other slaves. They only got to share the little bits and pieces that were left over after all the guests ate.
Temperance was very skinny now. She had one dress and it was getting very worn out and small. She admired the maids who looked so happy. They were paid lots, had friends of each other, were fed well, and Mrs. Capsicum supplied them with two maids’ dresses each. Brand new dresses! Oh, how it would be nice to be a maid. Or a servant, or even a cook! Anything other than a slave. Temperance was getting very tired. She was losing energy, losing happiness, losing the perseverance she once had. “What’s the point?” She asked Gideon. “We’re never going to escape.”
Gideon didn’t know what to say. All he said was, “Think about what you’re saying, Tem. Are we really just going to give up? What about James?”
“Gideon! I’m thirteen! We’ve been here for more than a year! What else can we do?” Her eyes watered up. She went to leave, but turned back. “I’m going to be fourteen soon. My mother always said that when I turn fourteen, she was going to take me to see France. That’s what her mother did when she turned fourteen.” With that, she ran off.
“I’ve never had a Christmas ball before. It will be so splendid they’ll all be begging to come back! Oh, I’m so frazzled about it!”
“Aye, Miss.” The butler replied. “You’ve said that now three times.”
“Oh, but it feels like a dream! Ever since Randy died, I—well I thought my life was shattered. I thought I’d spend it all living in a little hole. But now—” She sighed dramatically. “Things are finally looking up!”
It was the day before Christmas. Temperance looked down at her old, stained, ripped up dress. She pitied herself.
“I wonder…” She mumbled.
“You wonder what?” Gideon approached her with one hand balancing a freshly baked pie.
“Good grief Gideon! What is wrong with you? Are you out of your mind?”
“Maybe.” He smiled. “Come quick. They might think we’re stealing.”
The two hid downstairs under the stair case.
“I snuck outdoors earlier. I stopped a wild horse from trampling this man’s pie stand. As a thank you, he gave me this pie for free.” He inhaled a deep breath of the delicious aroma. “It turns out we will be having a feast after all.”
Days went by. The Christmas ball had gone splendid.
It was a very foggy day, and the duo had snuck off to town like they often did.
Everything seemed quiet today. Most people stayed indoors, and it even snowed early in the morning.
The kind maid, Mercy, had sewed them both a warm coat for the winter. They were both very grateful.
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