The Price of Hannah Blake (14 page)

Today, instead of retiring to a chair to watch, Hannah was shunted from instructress to instructress—scrutinized, questioned, tested on simple dance steps, asked to sing while someone played on a small piano. There were rooms, of course, many other rooms; the great hall seemed to be Maria’s domain.

She was surprised to be told to don a robe, then her own clothes, for other activities. Naked was for workout? Dance? Because when the duke and his guests arrived, at last, the troupe would be naked many, many times in performances. Because the duke liked that. And because he and the others had to choose a young man or woman to “request” for the night. Maybe that was where Hannah would cease to be a virgin, crushed beneath some nobleman for whom she was that evening’s favor from the duke. Or maybe the duke would want her “cherry,” as Charles had called it.

She showered with the rest and pulled on her clothes, not rushing as that morning. She had made it—perhaps. One day, at least. Lilly and Rachael came over, fresh and excited, eager for more, smiling like her best chums. Well, right now, they were, Hannah reflected. Soon the three were walking through gardens, afternoon sun on their necks. Lilly and Rachael walked on either side of her, arms over her shoulders. Suddenly, Hannah almost halted. She recognized the panic. Where could they go “swimming”? They were enclosed in walls; Hannah had seen high walls from several windows. This was a trap! “Where are we going?” she demanded.

Rachael looked at her. “Swimming. I told you…”

“
Where
?” Hannah demanded.

“The beach,” said Lilly, sounding bewildered, but Hannah knew all about actresses and skits. Rachael added, “The ocean.”

Hannah squinted ahead. She had seen water, ships, over the tops of the trees, but how would they get there? Now, Lilly seemed to see the point. “Oh, don’t worry, puss.” That
word!
Hannah’s panic rocketed.

Lilly said, pointing, “You can see it, now. No wall here at the beach. Well, the side walls run down across the beach and out into the ocean. There’s a dock and a sort of warehouse. Boats come in, ships, too, with our stuff. They let us come here.” Hannah started walking again. Lilly and Rachael had removed their arms from her shoulders as though sensing her fear. “Fine,” said Hannah. She gave a little skip forward. What else could they
do
to her, anyway?

Between tree trunks, Hannah now saw sand bright in the sun. At the wood’s edge, Lilly and Rachael started stripping. Of course. They tossed their clothes over branches and Hannah did the same. Then, they all walked together, naked, across the beach. It made Hannah modest, again; this was the “other world.” Three girls did not walk together naked, there. She looked in both directions. Yes, the high walls on either side, extending into the water, the long dock—really a loading wharf—far to her right, with a building on it. Around the land side was a high fence, gated, and a road went back toward the compound.

Rachael was slimmer than Hannah, taller than Hannah or Lilly, a born dancer who walked like a queen—or a cat. Her black hair was brushed back and tied, leaving her elegant jawline clean. When she turned, Hannah saw green eyes that enlivened the dark face. She had darker skin and larger breasts than either of them, breasts firm but that hung down her chest. The nipples were darkest of all, and Hannah wondered if she were “foreign,” maybe from the India colony. You weren’t supposed to ask. Hannah glanced last, and with curiosity, at the bush; it seemed very thick, but compact. Did she cut off some of the hair? Hannah didn’t know if women did that. How? The skin was bare but a little darker right around the patch.

Lilly’s shorter body, pale, and her platinum hair made a contrast that suddenly amused Hannah. Where did Hannah fit in? Some gradation between? Hannah had said nothing, on the way, but she was embarrassed. The two spoke fondly of the ocean, the beach; she never had been to the seaside. She had swum in rivers and a pond, but seen waves only in pictures. She would have to be careful! She could swim; her father had taught her before he vanished, but he told her many sailors couldn’t swim. If they fell from the ship, or the ship went down, they had to be pulled out quickly or they drowned.

Cheerful Lilly called, “Race you!” She bolted toward the water with surprising speed—or perhaps not surprising with all that grueling exercise! Rachael didn’t let the challenge pass; she bounded off, with huge steps, overtaking Lilly. For a moment, Hannah watched the two lovely, naked bodies streaking away and could not help feeling that here they were free. Who was here? No one. Deserted beach, open sea…

She was running, now. Glancing ahead, she saw that Rachael was holding her large breasts in her hands. It was a solution to a problem Hannah never had faced, till now; she cupped her own breasts so they wouldn’t jounce and ran faster. The two reached the water almost side by side and went in splashing leaps through the low waves, dived flat, and two perfect arses—one white, one brown, shining for a moment in the sun—disappeared below the surface. Hannah assumed she would do likewise, but when she reached the water, she halted so abruptly she felt herself about to pitch forward. She knew
nothing
about this! What bottom was under the white-flecked, dazzling waves? What
lived
in here? The rolling surf was much louder than she ever imagined; in fact, she had not thought of the ocean in pictures she had seen as so noisy! It’s voice was gruff, almost a roar, like a big animal—a bear.

She stood watching. The two surfaced, laughing, and took a few strokes, going farther out. She started to yell, “Be careful!” But she knew nothing. Well, she could try it, couldn’t she? She stepped into the low unscrolling waves that foamed and brushed her toes. Not too cold; ponds around Devon could be icy. She wormed her toes into the sand—firm but soft, not like mud.

Rachael and Lilly were forging out of the surf, holding hands. Her gaze went to their nipples, Lilly’s small, pink, the aureoles almost gone in the crinkled buds that stood up. Rachael’s big dark nipples also rose, much longer, and twisted a little to the sides, now. Hannah knew so little about women’s bodies! Even her own.

“Can you swim?” called Lilly, waving as though excited to return to Hannah after just a few minutes away.

“Yes, I learned. My daddy taught me—in ponds and rivers. Never at the sea.”

“Oh,” said Lilly, and hesitated, as though wondering what more she could ask. Rachael added, a little wistfully, “I learned in an ocean very, very far away from here. My older sisters showed me.” If Lilly smiled as though she were seeing stars, Rachael smiled tentatively as though to punctuate a statement and then her precise lips resumed their perfection. Rachael’s statement seemed to depress them all, for a few moments. Then, Hannah said, “I want to try.”

“Come!” cried Lilly. Holding out her hand. Hannah took it as they walked into the surf. Waves kept hitting Hannah higher, making her gasp at the chill. When one reached her pussy, it would be a shock. Her hand went down and covered it. Deeper, and a higher wave hit them. “Yow!” cried Hannah, flinching.

“You can just dive and get it over with,” Lilly suggested. Behind her, Rachael said, “Best way!” It was a challenge. Hannah took a breath, released Lilly’s hand, and half-fell, half-dived forward. Sudden cold all over, but not worse than the ponds. She tasted salt, felt salt in her eyes, stinging on her lips, tasting briny. She shut her eyes tight and kicked, kicked again, and realized the bottom had dropped off. She gave a kick and a stroke of her arms, came to the surface. Put down her feet and touched—nothing!

Then she glanced up. How did the wave become so high? It was impossible. Those small waves, now this one, suddenly looming over her, massive! It hit her and she felt herself rolling under water, head down, head up. Her arms flailed. Panic, sheer panic. She thrashed, not knowing which way was the surface. Then, hands had her shoulders and her head broke the surface; she gasped, gasped again, spitting. Another wave was rolling toward her, but she was moving backwards. It hit, burying her, but the hands did not let go. When she surfaced again, struggling, her feet touched bottom and she stood up, fighting for balance and breath.

She heard Lilly and Rachael laughing; she tried to turn but the powerful hands again were hauling her toward shore. When she got her footing, once more, she was in water up to her knees and knew she would not die. They were laughing, holding her. When she had her breath, she started laughing, too. They dropped her in the shallows at the edge, little waves now tenderly licking her feet, and flopped down beside her. They were both wringing out their wet, sandy hair. “Oh, God!” breathed Hannah. “God! Did I almost drowned? I think so.”

She looked at little Lilly, whose almost white hair was plastered, flat and clinging to her back, her arms, her small breasts. Lilly said, “It must have seemed like it! But you bob up to the surface and the waves push you toward shore, not out.”

“But you can drown,” insisted Rachael, frowning, her black eyebrows coming together. “I lost a brother; he dived for shells. And he could swim all day, in anything!”

At that, the three sat gazing out to sea. Hannah tried to imagine losing one of her little brothers; but perhaps she never would know what happened to any of them. That made her raise her eyes to look farther out to sea. Freedom, wasn’t it? Right out there? Maybe you drowned, maybe not. What about Rachael’s brother? Swim all day—in anything. She said, slowly, “I’m surprised they let us come here, all alone.” She left it there; they could hear it as a question—or not.

There was alarm, a plea, in Lilly’s voice. “Oh puss! Please! Don’t even think, don’t think. They’ll know, somehow, they’ll know, and they’ll hurt you.” It sounded as though she might cry. She had seized Hannah’s forearm, fiercely, and turned her face to her.

Hannah shrugged. “I can’t even swim out to where you were,” she said, forcing a smile. “Just wondering. Forget it.”

Rachael, the serious one, added, “It’s the biggest danger, just letting yourself think about it. No one escapes. No one. You understand?”

Hannah said, “Its delicious, just sitting her in the little waves. I never knew the sea could be so wonderful. I love the salt.” She passed her tongue around her lips. Suddenly, she jerked back; a little thrill had gone through her nipple. She looked down. Lilly’s lips were fastened on her breast, her head bent over. Then Lilly lifted her face, the grin impish; who could be angry? Lilly was changing the subject.

“Do you understand?” asked Rachael, doggedly. “You have to, you know.”

Hannah said, “Charlotte told me about Myra and the guards. Isn’t that enough?”

Rachael said coldly, “She was lucky. They didn’t sell her East or kill her. I think because she’s a crow…”

Hannah turned, frowning. Lilly said, “A negress.”

“Oh.”

“They need her in plays. The duke loves to see white girls bossing her, spanking her, you know? A negress as beautiful as she is, who speaks well, and dances like… They wanted her.” She hesitated. “We think the duke saw her, maybe she was a serving girl for some great family, or the daughter of a servant, brought up hearing the King’s English…”

“Shhh!” said Rachael, as though someone listened behind them, “Don’t say anymore. Please, no more.”

“Well,” said Hannah, dismissing the conversation. “I’m still surprised at all this.” She waved her arm at the horizon of water.

Rachael said, her voice expressionless, but somehow intense: “I swam out once, too far—by accident. I’m a very strong swimmer. She pointed, her arm raised, “There, about 50 yards out, is a net strung across. All the way I think. And…”

“Rachael!” It was Lilly.

“Must go deep,” said Rachael. “To the bottom? Maybe. You get there and you have to climb out of the water and over. I climbed on it. I was exercising, that’s all. I got on the net and was sitting. Boats came out from land, either side. They must have been watching with spyglasses, like sea captains use. They came fast; they had guns.”

“Oh, Rachael,” said Lilly, her head bowed. “You promised never.”

“They took me in. They didn’t do anything. They can’t unless they get orders. Some people say they can be shot for using you without permission. And even then, they can’t mark you—unless you are never coming back…”

Hannah was listening, as though casually; she glanced at the woman with the hard muscles, the determination in her jaw. One thing she knew: Rachael had thought about escaping, probing the defenses, calculating. If Rachael had tried and given up, what chance did Hannah have? But had Rachael given up? Rachael would know things that might take Hannah years and terrible risks to discover. Hannah reached over and laid her hand on Rachael’s bare back; it was sculpted as though with a knife. It felt good, dry and smooth. Carefully, Hannah ran her hand down the back until it reached Rachael’s waist; she paused, but Rachael had only turned and smiled. Hannah’s hand continued down over the hard buttocks, brushing off the sand. Now, Rachael reached out and tenderly stroked Hannah’s hair. Hannah said, “I’m so glad nothing awful happened to you.”

“I think the guards reported I was sitting on the net, gazing toward land. Sort of resting. If I was trying to get away, why stop there, sitting right up where anyone could see me? They let me go. I’ve never been so terrified. They took me in naked, just as I was, and didn’t give me clothes for two days. They stared at me constantly. I think they were
praying
they could have me.”