Forbidden Plantation Passions Ebook, Parts 1, 2, and 3

by Victoria Night

  Forbidden Plantation Passions Ebook

  Parts One, Two and Three

  A Civil War Romance

  Written by

  Victoria Night

  Copyright 2013 Andria Saphire Burke

  All rights reserved

  DEDICATION

  I dedicate this book to many people. First, to my beautiful son who is always my inspiration in life no matter what. Next is the love of my life, who always pushed and supported me even when I wanted to give up. Finally, to my family, always there for me and backing me one hundred percent. Thank you all for being part of my life. Thank you for being there for me, always, when I needed you. I could never have completed this book without your love, support, and encouragement.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  The History Behind the Story

  Chapter 1

  Dawn, December 20, 1864

  A young southern woman stands in the center of her bedroom as the pale pink of a winter dawn slowly lights the morning sky. Warily she stares at the creeping light coming through the window, as though it is a bad omen. This young woman, mistress of her house, has reason to fear the dawn, for as sure as the sun will rise, Union Major General William Tecumseh Sherman will march through her country tomorrow, burning all in his path as he pummels his way toward the sea. He is the Devil himself, they say, without a shred of mercy. Her thoughts go to her two little siblings, and her eyes turn toward the hallway and their bedroom door. The innocent six year old twins Abe and Abigail still lie asleep there. Let them sleep! Let them sleep as long as they can this morning! The chores can wait. Everything can wait!

  Named for her hometown in Georgia, Savannah has not had a good night’s sleep since her parents died and this wretched war started. After so many nights of tears and pain and endless worry, her senses have now shut down, registering nothing, not even fear. Empty of emotion, she leans against the windowpane. Her face to the cold glass, she is unaware of her bare feet on the freezing wood floor. She does not hear Lucy rapping at the door. She does not even feel her own emptiness, and that is a relief. These silent moments at dawn, before it all starts, have become her refuge.

  At first the war had been far away, in thought as well as distance. Now the battles grow ever closer, sometimes only a few miles down the road from her plantation. With a sharp breath she snaps out of her reverie. Shutting her eyes tightly, as if to ward off the inevitable, she prays fiercely, “Oh God, dear God, protect these innocent babies!”

  Hearing the mistress stir in her room, her loyal friend and servant Lucy has come to the door, knocking softly to see if Savannah is awake. Lucy has been mother, father, and friend to the girl since Savannah’s parents died from yellow fever when Savannah had been but fourteen, leaving an innocent little girl with a plantation to manage, a war to cope with, and two little siblings to raise. It was the same year the war had started, 1861, nearly four years ago. Had it really been only four years? For Lucy and Savannah, the colored housemaid and the former pampered southern belle thrown into womanhood overnight, it had been a lifetime.

  “Miss, you be awake yet?”

  “Yes Lucy, come on in!”

  Lucy opens the door, placing the scant tray of stale bread and weak tea down on the little table beside the bed. Savannah is grateful to have hot tea on these cold mornings. She knows if it were not for Lucy’s crafty hording, there would be only water in that teapot.

  Savannah’s room is still the spacious bedroom of a grand young lady, though many valuable articles from both the house and the farm had long since been appropriated by the ragged, exhausted divisions of Confederate soldiers passing through. It is late in the war. Union soldiers have not yet ravaged the beloved hometown our heroine Savannah is named for, but tomorrow that will change. All they hear now is how Devil Sherman is near, burning his way through heart of the Confederacy. He burned Atlanta, Georgia on November 16, and now he is headed their way. The coastal port of Savannah will be his last stop on his march to the sea. For days now, the whole town has been gripped with fear, but in the mansion her parents left her, with a little brother and sister to care for, Savannah and her servants carry on. There is nothing else to do.

  In the early days of the war, Savannah had used to complain to Lucy.

  “Lucy? When will this war end? I am so tired of hearing it day after day, night after night!”

  Patient, loving, and loyal Lucy had indulged her back then.

  “I am not sure, Miss, but I hope it’s soon so they gets off this land!”

  But by now both mistress and slave know the situation is far beyond that. It is only a matter of time.

  As the day wears on, the two women are kept busy with chores that Lucy and Savannah do together, side by side. Most of the servants have run off by now. Only Lucy and two field workers remain, Sam and Elijah.

  The politics of slavery are not of interest to Savannah. Opinions and ideas had been her father’s concern, and she had never wanted to take on men’s responsibilities as well as all the other things she had had to bear, things she was never prepared for. She should have had her coming out party this year, been courted at splendid plantation balls and summer BBQ’s, and then married to the son of a rich neighbor, or perhaps even the governor’s son! But the war and her parents’ death had changed all that.

  As soon as her parents had died, she had become, in the eyes of society, simply an orphan, and no longer a desirable marriage target. Her property was attractive, yes, but she only held it till her brother came of age. That put her in a less coveted category. Her aunts had then counseled her to accept an early marriage with no coming out, for the sake of her brother and sister. The children needed a father, they said, and the farm needed a master. And she had tried to do her duty as any good girl would, tried to choose someone, anyone suitable! But the only offers that came to her were shifty older men who ogled her body or young, unkempt boys with no education, trailing greedy relatives behind them. Revolted, Savannah refused all offers of marriage from suitors beneath her. Then the unthinkable happened. Two successive uncles had shown up, uninvited, bringing wives and bratty children to live in her house and “protect” her, her siblings, and most of all, her property.

  Quickly she learned not to trust those people, but the worst was yet to come. As the pretty teenager grew into a beautiful and surprisingly voluptuous young woman, each “kind uncle” found his way to her bedroom at night. At the hands of such “southern gentlemen” Savannah painfully learned the shocking cruelty of the world toward an unprotected young girl. When they could catch Lucy, they made use of her, too. In the end, it had only been the horrid war that arrested the abuse, for both men were conscripted, and died quickly in the escalating battles. Savannah and Lucy rejoiced with that happy news!

  The plantation slaves knew all that was going on up at the big house, as they always did. They were powerless to protect the girls as long as the white men were in the house, but as soon as the uncles marched off to battle, blessed Sam, who trained the hunting dogs, secretly tutored Savannah in how to use a shotgun to ward off any more unwelcome relatives, and it had worked! While a slave did not dare to aim a gun at any white person, the southern belle in warti
me could and did! As soon as the news came that the offending uncles had got their proper reward by being blown to bits by Yankees, Savannah evicted their widows and children without batting an eye! In the days after that, she met all new visitors at the front door with her father’s gun, Sam and the dogs standing behind her. In this way she successfully protected herself and her whole household from every kind of intruder, and when all the relatives was gone, Savannah taught Lucy to shoot, too. Through all that, she earned quite a reputation in the community, but it no longer mattered to Savannah what people said about her. Let them talk! She had learned the hard way what all that talk was worth. Where had her parents’ friends been when she had needed them on those terrible nights? The whole community knew what was happening. They had just sat there politely and let it happen, not acknowledging it, the way society does, gossiping about it in dark whispers behind her back that were as painful as knives. If Mummy was there, they would never have acted toward her in such a shameful way. If Daddy was there, he would have buried those uncles in the backyard! But Daddy wasn’t there, and neither was Mummy. They would never be there to protect her again.

  Through all those painful and degrading experiences, Savannah had grown physically and mentally tough. At the tender age of 17 she established herself as the head of her household in all ways, and no man or woman in the county dared come to her house to challenge her rights again. She was out of polite society, to be sure, for rumours of her “undoing” had flown with swift unkindness through the sewing circles, and she was then unfairly labeled unchaste and unfit for friendship with her former friends, girls her own age at church and social events. Indeed, Savannah, Lucy, and Sam no longer went to church at all or hardly left the plantation, for that matter. Savannah still sent the little ones to Sunday school with Elijah, however, to be taught the religion of her dear mother and father.

  The injustice of her situation has transformed Savannah into a different person. For her siblings’ sake as well as her own, she has become a bold and independent woman, hardly ever smiling, but always strong at home, where all can rely on her to make decisions and work till her hands are raw. A world away from the protected southern belle she had been raised to be, Savannah sometimes feels she is no longer a lady at all—that she is hardly even a woman at all. But she carries on. Throughout the years of the war, the days at Savannah’s home have been spent dressing, feeding, and tutoring the little ones. As the slaves desert in groups, she does increasing amounts of fieldwork and housework. But in spite of all hardships, the crops are harvested and sold, taxes on the land are paid, dresses are made and re-made and mended, animals are fed, and the house is kept clean. Life goes on, and as long as God chooses to spare them, Savannah’s plans are to finish raising little Abe and Abigail, and then grow old in her parents’ home with beloved Lucy at her side.

  Savannah trusts on faith that her little brother Abe will never turn her out, and she is probably right. She knows that eventually she will turn into the old maid sister, an unnecessary person, perhaps an economic burden on the household. But regardless, she will never marry. She has had enough of all that has to do with marriage and men!

  It is December 20, five days from Christmas. Sherman is coming, but so is Christmas. Savannah has made up her mind to celebrate Christmas today. Tomorrow the Devil might burn their house to the ground, but today he will not take Christmas from her little brother and sister.

  The adults have all spent their free time for the past two weeks making homemade gifts for the children. Lucy and Savannah have made two sock-dolls for Abigail with a set of beautiful doll dresses made from her mother’s old ball dresses. Sam and Elijah have carved a toy carriage and six horses from dried corncobs for little Abe, complete with riders, drivers, and soldiers to protect it from raiders.

  As soon as it comes light, she will send Sam and Elijah to the woods to cut down and bring in their Christmas tree. They will all six decorate the tree together using her mother’s beautiful heirloom Christmas decorations that have been safely hidden in the attic, a bit of luxury left in a life of sparseness. The adults will all drink a delicate cup of hot tea with cream and sugar using the best china, a great treat! They will build a big warm fire in the parlour. They will watch the children open their presents and see joy shining in their little eyes for at least one day. And it will be Christmas in Savannah.

  Chapter 2

  The next day, December 21, 1864, dawns cold and grey. On the other side of Savannah’s plantation, just outside of town, Sherman has arrived and the carnage begun. As soon as it is light, Savannah can hear the cannons, shouting, and guns alarmingly close to the house. She takes the children into their nursery to play, on the side of the house furthest from the terrifying racket. And they wait.

  Unknown to those in the house, the Yankees lose a small, bloody skirmish broken off from the main battle on the edge of the plantation. A young Yankee soldier named William gets away. He is wounded but manages to drag himself into a barn on Savannah’s land and falls asleep there.

  In the nursery, the children play as if nothing is happening outside, all through the morning and past noon, not even asking to eat. They are all hiding in the safest place they can find. Occasionally Sam, Elijah or Lucy pass the door of the nursery and silently look in. Each of them is discreetly carrying a gun. Savannah’s gun leans up behind the nursery door, loaded and ready. These four guns of her father’s had been buried in the yard long ago, hidden from Rebel troops and raiders who combed the house and barns to steal anything they could use, especially guns, long ago. It is all they have now in their little army: that and courage, which not one of them could muster up if it were not for these two small children who must be protected at any cost. Would the Yankees hurt them? Could even a Yankee devil be that evil? From what she has heard, Savannah is taking no chances. All she can give is her life, but that she will give willingly to protect her family.

  About one-thirty in the afternoon, all the outside noise stops. The silence is ominous and frightening. Even the children stop talking, but continue to play with their toys silently, as if they had suddenly become mute.

  Lucy comes into the room and Savannah quickly looks up. “Nothing to report, Miss,” says Lucy, who sits down in a rocker near the window with a bit of sewing, but there is a hard bulge in her apron pocket.

  Lucy is a beautiful woman in her own right. With an unusually delicate face and golden brown skin, and with her lithe figure, natural grace, and throaty melodic humming, she adorns the kitchen as much as she works in it. Lucy is a little older than Savannah, and they have been like sisters ever since Lucy, a member of the Secondi tribe growing up in a portal town on the edge of the Gold Coast of Africa, came to the family after a vicious raid on her village by the aggressive Ashanti tribe that were trying to control all the towns south of them. Her village was destroyed and everyone slain, run off, or taken by the Ashanti to auction on the slave block to the white Americans with sugar, cotton or tobacco plantations Master Asher, a wealthy man, had interest in all three

  The coastal tribes were all fighting for their lives against the greedy Ashanti at that time. Master Asher had been trading there and brought his family along with him for vacationing. Lucy had escaped from the cruel black Ashanti slavers before she could be put up on the block to be sold, and then been rescued at an open-air market one day by Savannah. Master Asher had sheltered Lucy in his house from the slavers because their unnecessary abuse of her was un-Christian, though slavery itself was acceptable business if handled decently. And so Lucy she stayed on with the family, needing their protection, and having nowhere else to go. So Master Asher had as much as adopted her. He told her he owned many other slaves and treated them fairly, as a Christian should. Master Asher’s slaves could buy their freedom from him after seven years of labor. However, since Lucy had not been bought, she had no price to pay off to him, and she would be free to go whenever she chose. So, on those terms, Lucy elected to travel to America with the family as a housem
aid and companion to little Savannah. Lucy had considerable pride that instead of having been born or bought into slavery like most of them on the plantation, she was a house worker, not a house slave, and legally a free black woman. She did not flaunt it, but she held it in her mind all the time, and it gave her strength and courage to adjust to this strange new world. It shocked her that some had so much while others had so little. In an African village, everything was shared. There was little private property as there was here, making some rich and others deathly poor. Lucy’s survival instinct was high. She was living under a hard system, she could see, and she did not want to get trapped under it. She knew she must at least keep her legal freedom at all costs, and this benevolent family was her safest bet for that. Gradually, she settled in.

  From the first day, Lucy was Savannah’s favorite. Savannah helped Lucy learn her English, though she learned to speak like the other slaves when it suited. Savannah and Lucy laughed and giggled together then, as close as sisters. Lucy’s prospects were different than Savannah’s, to be sure, but Lucy had reason to believe she would be decently married someday to a fine strong black worker on the plantation, that they could have their own little house on the property, and that they would raise little ones of their own who would not be sold off away from them. Master Asher had told her himself he would never do that, and indeed he was known in the country as one of the kindest slave owners as was. She was grateful to live on his plantation and not someone else’s, and proud to be called a house worker, as the family called her, instead of a house slave. She was happy to be the friend and companion of little Miss Savannah, who favored her greatly. She was free to go, it was true, but where in the world would she have gone that could be better than where she was? The outside world, as she already knew, was a much crueler place than Master Asher’s plantation.