The carriage jolted along the extended gravel driveway, the clip-clop of the horses' hooves on the stone path. Within its confines, two girls of age twelve, peered through the window, captivated by the majestic facade of Whittermore Manor. The grandeur surpassed their expectations, adorned with towering brick chimneys, and ivy gracefully ascending the weathered stone walls.
As the carriage progressed, the intricate details of the manor's design came into focus –the matching wings on either side of the manor came into view, along with white columns framing the front door. . It was a sight to behold, each element contributing to an aura of timeless elegance.
Amidst the anticipation, it was almost surreal to fathom that this stately abode would soon become their cherished home. . The carriage halted, its door swung open, and a man of fair complexion dressed in naval soldiers’ attire emerged. Two girls equally emerged, a pair of sisters, twins: one with a mixed complexion, the other dark-skinned.
Simultaneously, the grand doors of the manor creaked opened, revealing a man and a woman standing side by side, both dressed in their finest attire. The woman, appearing around 50, had stunning, flowing blonde hair-tinged with a touch of grey. Her fair complexion was complemented by piercing blue eyes. She was attired in a regal gown of the palest green, embroidered with delicate white flowers. Accompanying her was a man, presumably her husband, aged around 78, with grey hair and a matching beard. He wore a navy blue suit, immaculately tailored to fit his broad frame. Upon their encounter, a mutual bow marked the beginning of a silent exchange between them.
"Samuel...Brother..." the older gentleman said sombrely as he broke the tense silence. "I see you have brought your children."
The woman pursed her lips, conflicted emotions playing across her face. "I heard you took a slave as your lover. To have children..." She trailed off, unable to hide her disapproval.
The man named Samuel, who was the twins' father, felt a mixture of anger and hurt. He could see the disdain in the older man's eyes, but he also knew that his brother had suffered a great loss when he had married a slave as a wife.
He forced himself to remain calm and respectful. "Please, do not judge what you do not understand," Samuel pleaded. "I loved their mother deeply. And I love my daughters with all my heart."
"War looms, and I may not return so I beg you, look after them as your own." Samuel pleaded, the words catching in his throat.
"I would not ask this of you if it were not necessary. My duty to my country must come first but know that I leave them in the safest of hands."
The woman glanced at the two girls uncertainly. The older one, Lucy and the younger one Louise.
Samuel knelt and put a hand on each girl's shoulder. "This is your Aunt Abigail and your Uncle Edward. They will take care of you until I return. You must listen to them and do as they say. Do you understand?"
The girls nodded solemnly, their big brown eyes wide with curiosity and apprehension. The older one, Lucy, spoke up, "Yes, Father."
The girls looked up at Aunt Abigail with solemn eyes. Her expression hardened as she took in their appearances - Lucy with her light brown skin and curly hair, and Louise, whose hair was thick and dark and whose complexion matched her late mother's.
Abigail's lips pressed into a thin line. Though she tried to hide it, her gaze held undisguised disdain as it lingered on Louise. The young girl felt the weight of that look, and it made her want to shrink away.
She dropped her eyes to the ground. Lucy reached over and squeezed Louise's hand reassuringly. She had always been protective of her younger sister.
As Aunt Abigail turned abruptly and strode into the house without another word, Lucy leaned into, to whisper to Louise, "Don't worry. I'll look after you."
Louise blinked back tears and nodded. She knew the coming years under Aunt Abigail's care would not be easy, especially for a girl like herself. But with Lucy by her side, she felt hopeful, she could endure. As long as they had each other, they would survive. At least that was what she thought.
"I shall miss you girls dearly," said their father Samuel, his voice cracking with emotion.
He pulled them into a tight embrace before letting them go. "You must take care of each other and always remember that I love you with all my heart."
Their father stepped into the carriage, departing Whittemore Manor. They waved as he disappeared from view, their young hearts heavy with sadness as the carriage rattled away, their hearts aching.
"Hurry up!" Aunt Abigail's shrill voice called from within.
The twins hurried up the steps, hands clasped, as Uncle Edward followed silently behind. Inside, the manor was as grand as its exterior suggested. Expensive paintings and gold framed mirrors hung on the walls. Thick rugs covered the marble floors.
A sparkling crystal chandelier was hanging from the ceiling. Louise's eyes widened, taking in the beauty around her. She had never seen such wealth before.
"Stop your dawdling!" Aunt Abigail snapped, breaking the spell. Uncle Edward disappeared wordlessly into his study.
Abigail loomed over the girls, glowering.
"Your father brought you here for me to care for, so you will do as I say! Understand!"
Lucy and Louise nodded mutely. Abigail turned first to Lucy, looking her over critically. "You have fine features for a girl of mixed race," she remarked. "Obey me, and you may yet make a proper wife."
Then she turned to Louise, grabbing the young girl's cheeks roughly. "As for you - someone of your complexion does not deserve such luxury. You will work hard, and learn to keep your head down." she continued grabbing Louise's face, her grip painful.
"You will serve as Lucy's maid and tell no one you are sisters. Is that clear?" Louise's eyes watered in pain and shame. Lucy tried to intervene, but a maid pulled her away.
"I don't know what your father was thinking, mixing with those people," Aunt Abigail sneered, her words dripping with disdain.
She let go of Louise's face, and the young girl wiped away her tears as best she could.
"Don't talk about my mother that way!"
Louise burst out before she could stop herself. The words hung in the air between them, and Abigail's eyes narrowed. Her eyes blazed with anger. Her hand flew out, striking Louise hard across the face.
The young girl's head snapped to the side, and tears welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out.
"You ungrateful little wretch!" Aunt Abigail hissed, her voice low and menacing. She stepped closer to Louise, her face mere inches from the girl's tear-streaked features. "You do not speak unless spoken to!"
Aunt Abigail turned to face the maid holding Lucy, her eyes cold and hard. "Take Louise to the servant quarters, that is where people like her belong." With a nod, the maid dragged a sobbing Louise away, ignoring the girl's screams and sobs.
Louise felt herself ripped from everything she loved - her father, her mother's memory, her dear sister as she disappeared down the dark hallway.
Vielen Dank für das Lesen!
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