Once we were back on his horse, he exhaled and pulled me close against him. “I still love you, even though you wickedly lusted after your own brother. In a way, I find that exciting,” he snickered into my ear. “I saw you two in bed together, loving one another. I admit I was overcome with jealousy. I was beside myself. Telling Eugenia was the only way I could stop it and have any chance with you. In time, you will grow to love me. And it will be an honest, decent love, unlike the perverted one you shared with Patrick.”
He urged his horse on into what might as well have been hell. If it wasn’t, it was the nearest thing there was to hell on earth.
~ ~ ~
~ Twenty-seven ~
My punishment was carefully laid out, designed to make my existence as miserable as possible. A scant number of my belongings were brought up to the attic where I would remain locked away with the windows sealed shut. My linens, and most of the furniture had been removed from my room and thrown away. All but the armoire and a piece here and there had been hauled to the attic, along with my bed. Inside, the armoire was left surprisingly intact, almost as if Eugenia hadn’t found the time to order Mammy to empty it. I had only a small table, a chair, and a lamp, and my daily orders were to rise before the sun and open the Bible. I was to read from the time my eyes opened until nearly midnight of each day. My sentence seemed effortless compared to the brutal beating Eugenia had inflicted on me through the night when Warren had brought me back to Sutton Hall.
“Take her to the attic,” she’d told Warren.
He marched me upstairs without comment and locked me in until she arrived. I knew what was going to happen, but wasn’t prepared for how brutal it would be.
“Strip your clothes off!” she commanded.
I eased off my dress, and she became annoyed at my slow pace.
“Hurry up!”
I shuddered and closed my eyes, wishing myself away, wishing this was all just a terrible dream. But I knew it was no dream. She ordered me to lie face down on the bed and began whipping my bare bottom with one of Daddy’s belts.
“One lashing for being a lying tramp,” she hollered as she snapped the strap against my skin. “Two lashings for lusting after your own brother!”
With each brutal lashing she gave a comment, and I began to sob from the sheer agony of my punishment.
“Three lashings for seducing your brother. Four lashings for becoming intimate with your own brother. Five lashings for being a whore, just like your mother.”
On and on it went until she reached twenty lashings. By now my cries and screams had become muffled moans, and I lay helplessly, praying for it all to end.
Finally, she flew out, locking the door behind her.
The blood stopped dripping and was replaced by oozing welts. I couldn’t stand or sit or move without excruciating pain. So, I lay in bed that night and the next day until Mammy was sent up to clean me and dress me. Then Eugenia came and dictated the remainder of my punishment, which included being locked away from the world in the drab, dark attic.
The weeks that followed were unbearably long, and one day melted into the next, creating a desperately lonely existence. I was surrounded by thick attic dust, which crept into my lungs, causing me to cough and choke all hours of the day and night. I couldn’t sleep at night or stay awake during the day. I saw eerie shadows creep along the walls. I thought I saw spirits hover over me when I slipped into a sullen sleep. When it happened, I tried to convince myself that it was my mind playing tricks on me, that it was my imagination gone crazy. I buried my face deep under my pillow and prayed to God to save me.
During the hours between reciting my Bible verses to Eugenia, as I lay motionless in the dark attic, more than anything, I craved fresh air, sunlight, and the freedom to do as I pleased. On the occasions Mammy was allowed to see me, she cared for me as best she could; but she was kept from me most of the time.
“Mrs. Arrington is making a big mistake. When Mr. Arrington returns, he gonna be furious at her for doing this to you,” Mammy said as she put down my plate of food and left before Eugenia came looking for her.
Eugenia now reigned as the wicked queen of Sutton Hall. She finally seemed to have found the role that suited her best, and everyone around her jumped in her wake. It was as if she had cast some evil spell, convincing those around her to enlist in her evil conspiracy to make me suffer for my sins.
I did as I was told and day after day read verses and passages from the Bible. Warren was assigned to let me out and escort me down to the parlor.
“You are one of her evil servants, I see,” I remarked as we walked downstairs.
“You are the one who is malevolent, Amelia, not I,” he retorted.
I stood before Eugenia, keeping my eyes from meeting hers. She sat in her favorite chair nearest to the window and instructed me to begin. It was decided only by Eugenia which verse I would recite, and it required me to know them all by heart.
“Being with Proverb Seven.”
“Proverb Seven,” I repeated, thought hard, then went on to recite the entire chapter, word for word. It took nearly ten minutes to finish. When I did, I took a breath and waited to be dismissed.
“Again,” she said flatly.
“Again?”
“Recite it again!” she snapped.
I cleared the dust tickle in my throat and began again.
“My son, keep my words and lay up the Ten Commandments with thee. Keep my commandments and live; and my law as the apple of thine eye. Blind them upon the table of the heart. Say unto wisdom, Thou are my sister; and call understanding thy kinswoman: That they mean keep thee from the strange woman, from the stranger which flattereth with her words. For at the window of the house I looked through my casement. And beheld among the simple ones, I discerned among the youths, a young man void of understanding. Passing through the street near her corner; and he went the way to her house. In the twilight, in the evening, in the black and dark night. And behold, there met him a woman, with the attire of a harlot and subtle of heart. She is loud and stubborn; her feet abide not in her house. Now she is without, now in the streets and lieth in wait at every corner.”
I took a breath and coughed, then continued as Eugenia stared at me with stone- cold piercing eyes.
“So she caught him and kissed him, and with an imprudent face said unto him, I have peace offerings with me, this day have I paid my vows. Therefore came I forth to meet thee, diligently to seek thy face and I have found thee.”
I paused, and a heated flush came to my face as I recited, sickened and repulsed that I should have to speak such words out loud in front of her.
“I have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen of Egypt. I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. Come, let us take our fill of love until the morning, let us solace ourselves with loves. For the Goodman is not at home, he is gone on a long journey. He hath taken a bog of money with him, and will come home at the day appointed. With her much fair speech she caused him to yield, with flattering of her lips she forced him.”
Warren was standing in the doorway, and Eugenia was either unaware or unconcerned. I swallowed, trying to get enough moisture in my mouth to go on, tired and dreading the end of the chapter.
“He goeth after her straightaway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks. Till a dart strike through his liver, as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life. Harken unto me now therefore. O ye children, and attend to the words of my mouth. Let not thine heart decline to her ways, go not astray in her paths. For she hath cast down many wounded, yea, many strong men have been slain by her. Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death.”
I took a long breath and waited for my dismissal.
“Again! Recite it again!”
My hands twisted behind my back, and I struggled to find the courage to disobey.
“But Eugenia…”
; “AGAIN!” she bellowed.
I swallowed my pride and did as she ordered.
When I finished for the third time, I waited on edge, hoping she would allow me to go. Warren was still there, his eyes glued to me.
“Again, you whore; recite it again!”
This time my words were slow, and my memory of the chapter became scrambled as I lost my concentration.
“Start over!” she hissed when I made a mistake. “From the beginning!”
I began to cry from exhaustion and humiliation.
Eugenia rose from her chair and stood before me. My hands were covering my face and muffling my sobs. She snatched my hands away and struck me with the back side of her hand across my face. Warren gasped.
“Take her to her prison. No food or water until she can recite the entire chapter without a mistake. Only then she will eat again!”
I ran all the way back to the attic, not waiting for Warren, hearing her yell out to me, “He goeth after her straightaway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks. Till a dart strike through his liver, as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life. Harken unto me now therefore O ye children, and attend to the words of my mouth. Let not thine heart decline to her ways, go not go astray in her paths. For she hath cast down many wounded, yea, many strong men have been slain by her. Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death.”
I fell onto the bed and bawled, thinking for the first time perhaps I was just like the woman in Proverb Seven, and it was I who had caused Perry to be slain. I became violently ill at the thought and continued to have dry heaves for the remainder of the day and well into the night, and then every morning thereafter. Whether I was starved or had the good fortune to win back my simple right to eat, I couldn’t hold down any food.
I managed to study my days away by the light of a lone candle, though I was perpetually exhausted. I had no fresh air to clear out the dust from my lungs and no sunlight to keep me from withering away. The passages from the Bible I was required to recite were all similar, wreaking havoc on my soul.
Eugenia gave me my reading assignments, precisely listed. I was to read them in order during the week, Sunday through Saturday, over and over, and would be tested every Sunday night from that point on.
I wanted to scream, pull my hair out, slit my wrists, just to end the misery, but what would that accomplish? I told myself it couldn’t be any worse.
I saw little of Mammy, as Eugenia feared she would show me affection that I certainly didn’t deserve. I hadn’t seen Hamilton, Hattie, or Jacob Thomas for nearly a month.
The person now assigned to oversee every aspect of my care was Warren.
“She is testing you,” I said one evening after he came to take my food away. I felt too ill to eat.
“You haven’t eaten,” he said, looking down at the untouched food.
“Romans 5:12. Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for all that have sinned,” I recited, not rising from the bed or looking at him, for that matter.
Warren held a candle near to my face and intently gazed down at me.
“You don’t look well. I think this punishment has gone on long enough. I will have a word with Eugenia.”
I laughed to myself, knowing full well Eugenia wouldn’t listen to anyone, especially Warren Stone.
“Can I get you anything for the night?” he asked softly and touched the top of my head. I pulled back and turned my back toward him.
“I care for you. I can help you through this. You just need to give me a sign that you can love me,” he confessed.
“I will never love you,” I said. “Never. You are nothing to me but my warden.”
* * *
Spring was upon Georgia, and the glory of that wonderful time of year was only bestowed upon me by chance. Occasionally, when Eugenia needed to see me, I could get a peek outside and see the blooming magnolias and smell the lovely scents of our mansion’s English gardens blowing through the dewy air. I had lost a great deal of weight and was weak enough for anyone who cared to really look at me to have some concern. Eugenia had none. It was only Mammy who came to my room one early evening with the metal tin for the monthly bath I was allowed.
“You looking sickly,” she said and began pouring the water into the tub while I undressed.
“Mammy?”
“Yes?” she asked, not turning my way, making sure she didn’t spill the water from the bucket.
I had been in dire need to talk to Mammy.
“What does it mean when you don’t get the womanly bleed anymore?”
I hadn’t bled for three months and was frightened something was terribly wrong with me. I had never not bled before. Maybe I was as sick as she observed and I feared, and it wasn’t from lack of fresh air and natural sunlight.
Mammy dropped the bucket, and water spilled everywhere.
“Mammy, the bucket!”
She came to me and took hold of my shoulders, unconcerned about the water, then looked me up and down. I was nearly undressed, only in my chemise.
“Are you saying you ain’t been bleeding for at least two months?” Mammy appeared full of alarm.
“I haven’t, Mammy. Is there something terribly wrong?” I asked nervously. Her eyes became wide, her mouth was agape, and she stood there just shaking her head.
“Mammy, what is it?” I cried.
“You got a baby inside you, Miss Amelia.”
She placed her hand on my abdomen, held it still for a moment, then took my hand and put it there too.
“Feel that little bump? It very small, but it gonna grow fast. Oh dear Lord, tell me this ain’t so,” she said and sat down on the bed in disbelief.
A baby. I was carrying Perry’s baby after only our one night together.
“You mustn’t tell anyone. Mrs. Arrington will kill you. I don’t know what we gonna do!”
I wanted to confess it wasn’t Patrick’s child as she suspected, but I didn’t want anyone, not even Mammy, to know of my marriage to Perry Montgomery. I wanted that to forever be my secret, to take to my grave. So I shamefully allowed Mammy to believe I was carrying Patrick’s baby.
“I will think of something. For now, I will get to letting out your dresses for the upcoming months. It will work to hide that baby inside you for a while. But only for a while.”
Now I was convinced God had no other plans than to let me suffer through life and suffer a predictable and horrific death. Then God himself would turn me over to the devil. I would never get a chance to be reunited with Perry. I remembered the terrifying ordeal when Mammy delivered Jacob Thomas, how excruciating childbirth was, and I felt ill at the thought. I didn’t want all that to happen to me.
I stepped into the tub and sank down into the water, closing my eyes while Mammy washed my hair. The prospect of the future was beyond grim for me. I would never get a chance to be reunited with Perry. But there was nothing to be done about it, except to turn my faith back to God, ask for his divine forgiveness, and pray not to be delivered into hell. I wanted to be reunited with Perry. I had to receive my punishment without protest and once again ask God to come back into my heart and cleanse my wild ways. And this time, I vowed never to stray from his love and protection again.
~ ~ ~
~ Twenty-eight ~
Dreams of heaven and hell plagued me endlessly, day and night, from the moment Mammy revealed I was with child. While the sun was up, I was obsessed with my Bible studies, memorizing each verse that Eugenia assigned and reciting them without even a small blunder. At night, before bed, as storms rolled in over Savannah, I knelt down before my bed and prayed. I prayed so hard my head throbbed and my knees were swollen from kneeling hours on end on the hardwood floors.
“Dear God,” I began every night. “Please absolve me of my sins, forgive my vile ways, and find it in your heart to allow me to repent. Please,” I begged, “don’t
send me straight to hell when I die giving birth to my child. Save me, save me!”
I was now grateful to be locked away, away from Eugenia, so she would be less apt to notice my condition when I would begin to “show” as Mammy called it. She began working on my dresses one by one and believed I could hide myself for quite some time.
Warren continued to be my assigned warden, and though I ignored his presence, he made every effort to get my attention. Sometimes he silently stood near me when I was reading the Bible or one of my books, just waiting for me to look up at him. Occasionally, he would ask me a question.
“The House of Seven Gables. What is that about?”
I didn’t respond.
“Is it interesting?”
He expected me to engage in conversation, but I had no interest. My eyes remained fixed on my book.
He came around to my side and said, “Eugenia has agreed to have Hamilton open the shutters. Now you can have sunlight.”
I placed the book onto my lap. He thought I would thank him. Instead I grew angry. “I don’t want the shutters opened,” I said sharply. “Tell Hamilton to leave them shut.”
Warren was perplexed. “Amelia, why? Let me try and fix all this for you. I am getting somewhere with Eugenia. She is beginning to like me, to trust me. I want to help you.”
He fell to his knees. I looked away, focusing on the drab walls of the attic instead of on him. “I am sorry for bringing you back to Sutton Hall. I should have taken you away with me. I see now what a mistake it was. I am pained with all Eugenia has put you through, how she’s made you suffer. You’re not a wicked girl. I don’t care anymore about your relationship with Patrick. I don’t. You believe me, don’t you?”
Still I declined to respond. Warren was insistent on making me listen. He tried to hold my hands, but I kept them stiff, my whole body tensed.
Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Page 23
