Ella Wood (Ella Wood, 1) by Michelle Isenhoff

Author:Michelle Isenhoff [Isenhoff, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-05-08T16:00:00+00:00

***

Emily floated to her room that evening on spirits made buoyant with expectation. Her instructor had provided some criticism, but his response was overwhelmingly positive. She had to choose a new medium for her next assignment. Perhaps a pencil sketch of a hand. Hands were so mobile, so expressive. Her mother had aristocratic hands. Maybe she could be persuaded to sit for an hour tomorrow after church.

She pulled the pins from her hair and let the strands cascade over her shoulders. Lizzie would be upstairs soon to wash it for Sunday services. While she waited, she’d brush up on some Renaissance art history. Unbuttoning her shoes, she kicked them off and selected a few books from her shelf to carry to bed with her.

A college lecture! She could hardly wait. Of course, she’d have to invent some sort of deception to get herself to Charleston. She’d write to Sophia and enlist her help. Sophia would know exactly what to do.

The evening darkened outside her window. Emily read through several chapters by the light of her lamp and still Lizzie did not appear. After an hour, she slid off the bed and padded upstairs to the third story where several of the house slaves slept. The tiny rooms were empty.

“Deena!” she called as she descended the stairs. The old woman appeared in the hallway. “Have you seen Lizzie?”

“Not since dinner. Would you like me to check with Josephine?”

“No, I’ll go.” Emily muttered to herself as she traipsed outside, growing more impatient by the minute. It wasn’t like Lizzie to shirk her duties. She’d better have a good excuse. It took a long time for her hair to dry, and she was already tired.

The kitchen was dark, so she veered toward Josephine and Lewis’s cabin. “Josephine, is Lizzie in there?” she asked, rapping on the door.

The door opened and the cook peered out. “Lan’ sakes, chil’. What dis be about?”

“I can’t find Lizzie. Is she with you?”

“No, miss. We closed de kitchen an hour ago. She come to collect some scraps for dat mare of yours, den she gunna tend yo’ bath.”

“She never showed up.”

“Dat ain’t like her. You check with Deena?”

“She sent me to you.”

Josephine’s face grew concerned. “Lewis?” she called into the room.

“I heard.” He stepped around her, pulling on a tattered coat. “I’ll help you look. You take de big house; I’ll check de grounds.”

“Thank you.” Emily felt the first shiver of alarm. Lizzie hadn’t taken it into her head to run away, had she? Certainly she had more sense than that.

She’d nearly reached the house when a confusion of low voices merged behind her and Lewis called out, “Miss Emily, we found her!”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She turned around and marched back toward the cabin. “Lizzie, when I get my hands on you—”

A tall figure reared up in front of her. “Ketch!” Then she gasped at the sight of the figure in his arms. “Lizzie!”

Her maid shivered uncontrollably. Dirt and bruises spoiled her face. One sleeve had torn free of her shoulder, and a litter of leaf mold clung to her hair and clothing.

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