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Earl singled out a hefty, towering black man and ordered him to take Elizabeth’s trunks to the house. Earl had left his own on the ship, knowing that he would be spending more time there than in the house.
Then Earl gently took an old black woman by an elbow and took her to Elizabeth. “Frannie, you see to Elizabeth while I’m busy building my fishery,” he said to her. “See to it that she’s made comfortable enough to forget San Francisco, her friends, and her damn mother.”
“Yas, suh,” Frannie said in a slow, calm drawl. “My baby’ll not want for a thing.”
Earl gave Elizabeth a troubled, yet stern stare. “Elizabeth, I don’t want to receive word that you’ve left our estate grounds, unescorted,” he said flatly. “This is a wild land, filled with savages and ruthless desperadoes. Let’s not tempt any of them with your sweet, pretty face, do you hear?”
Elizabeth gave him a long and frustrated glare.
Frannie locked an arm through Elizabeth’s. Short and plump, with tight gray ringlets of hair framing a fleshy face, a
nd dark, sparkling eyes, she looked up at Elizabeth. “Come along, honey chil’,” she soothed. “Let your papa go and tend to his business. We’ve lots to do ourselves. But first, when we get to the house, I’ll draw you a warm, comfortable bath. We’ll get that saltwater washed clean outta yo’ pores and hair. Then we’ll see what we’s can do to make your room pretty and delicate like you’se is.”
Understanding what Frannie was attempting to do, and appreciating the effort, Elizabeth smiled down at her. Then she looked sullenly over her shoulder at her father as he lumbered back toward his ship. He was in another world now—one that no longer included her.
Sometimes as a child, she could hardly bear moments like this. But now, all grown up, she had learned to bear anything. Even this move to a new land and a new life. She would cope, or die trying.
“Miss Elizabeth, we must hurry on to the house,” Frannie encouraged, tugging on Elizabeth’s arm. “You’ll get a death of a chill. Bes’ forget your papa for now. He’ll check in on you from time to time. He promised, and Massa’ Easton do keep his promises to his daughter.”
Nodding, Elizabeth followed Frannie, half stumbling. The steep path leading up to the house was not a path at all. It was a maze of vines and briars, and it took all of Elizabeth’s concentration to make her way through them. As the briars annoyingly grabbed her cape and pierced it, she jerked it free.
Ignoring Frannie’s heaving breaths brought on by the climb, Elizabeth stubbornly moved onward, not wanting to look behind her again. Without looking, she knew that the shoreline was way below her now, the slap of the waves sounded like a great heartbeat, alive and threatening. She shivered as the hissing whine of the night wind swept about her, chilling her to the bone.
The fence now loomed high before her, morbid in its scrolled details and with its spikes lining the top. Behind it stood the mansion outlined against the moonlit sky, as if it were some dark, sinister monster ready to swallow her whole.
“Not to show disrespect to your papa, Miss Elizabeth, but I don’t think I’m goin’ to enjoy livin’ in that house,” Frannie said, suddenly clutching one of Elizabeth’s hands. “It looks too ghostly to be lived in. How long has it been vacant?”
“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth said, squeezing Frannie’s hand reassuredly. “But we must make the best of things, Frannie. We shall make this house a grand place in which to live.”
She eased her hand from Frannie’s. Her fingers trembled as she gave the gate a shove and it squeaked as it slowly opened. She gazed once again at the monstrosity of a house, then walked through the gate: Frannie hesitated behind her. Elizabeth ignored the other servants who had arrived at the house before them, hovering together at the foot of the steps.
“Come on, Frannie,” she said softly. “Let’s get this over with.”
Frannie scurried to her side.
Elizabeth proceeded to walk toward the house, grimacing as she made her way through a thick tangle of trees and brambles. Her father had not said how long it had been since the house had been occupied, but it did seem to have been quite a long time.
Perhaps it should be even longer, she thought bitterly to herself. As far as she was concerned, she would as soon dive into a sea of sharks than live in this gloomy house.
Elizabeth stopped at the steps that led up to a leaning porch, and looked upward. She felt overwhelmed by the size of the house. The wind sounded lonely as it whistled around its corners. Shadows and silence seemed to close in on her. And then a shutter banged, causing her to start.
Swallowing back the fear building inside her, Elizabeth climbed the rickety steps and went to the massive wooden door with its ornate brass ornamentation, and found it ajar. With her heart pounding, she pushed the door open, squeaking hinges greeting her, echoing into the house.
Elizabeth and Frannie entered and searched for candles and matches. Elizabeth finally found a branch of candles on a table and lit several white tapers. She then looked slowly around her.
She was standing in a huge foyer that led to an ornately carved archway and down a broad, columned corridor that was broken at intervals by doors, and a wide, winding staircase that led upward to the second and third floors.
Elizabeth shuddered, feeling a sense of evil lurking inside the house. The corridor held too many dark shadows.
“This ain’t a fit place to be,” Frannie said, her eyes wide as she looked cautiously from side to side. “It ain’t a place to be at all.”
Elizabeth breathed shallowly. The house smelled dank and musty. The walls were paneled with dark wood. The beamed ceiling rose dim and high above her. The oaken floors were bare, and silky with age.
Determined not to let a mere house intimidate her, Elizabeth jerked her cape from around her shoulders and lay it across the back of a sheet-shrouded chair. Then she walked boldly toward the staircase, the skirt of her dress rustling in her haste.
“I ain’t goin’ up there,” Frannie said, staring with fretful eyes up the dark staircase.
“Hogwash, Frannie,” Elizabeth said, casting Frannie a quick glance over her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s find a room that I can call mine.”
