Lilah crept up the servants' stairway at the back of the darkened house, feeling her way along the cool plaster wall, stepping nimbly over the loose step that she knew always creaked. In this, the hour before dawn, a hush lay over everything. A creak would sound abnormally loud…
Her bedchamber was on the second floor overlooking the manicured lawn at the front of the house. Her father and Jane shared a suite at the opposite end of the hall. Lilah held her breath as she tiptoed past it, but nothing stirred. As she opened the door to her bedroom and stepped inside, she heaved a silent sigh of relief.
She was safe.
"Miss Lilah, is that you?"
Lilah whirled, her hand flying to her mouth as she tried to find Betsy through the darkness. The other girl had apparently been sleeping in one of the pair of chairs in front of the tall windows, waiting for her. She rose as Lilah's eyes found her, her slim body silhouetted briefly against the lighter gray of the window before she- stepped toward her mistress.
"Shhh, Betsy!"
"Where have you been? I've been almost crazy with worry, wonderin' whether to wake the master, or Mr. Kevin.
"You didn't, did you?" Lilah's voice was sharp with fear.
"No, I didn't. I figured that you might not want them to know where you've been. Did I do right?"
"Yes, Betsy, just right. How… how did you know I was gone?"
"I came up to bring you a cup of chocolate. Maisie fixed it, 'cause she says you got too thin while you were on that island. But you weren't here, and I was scared, not knowing what to do. I thought maybe those pirates had come back and got you, or…" Her voice faltered.
Betsy had moved to stand before the dressing table, and before Lilah realized what she was about she used flint and steel to light a lamp. Then she turned to look at her mistress. Suddenly self-conscious in the soft yellow glow, Lilah lifted a hand to her bosom. Betsy took in that gesture, took in the disordered hair and swollen mouth, the less than complete toilette, and her eyes grew huge.
"You've been with that man, haven't you?" It was more a shocked gasp than a question. Lilah stared at her maid for a long moment, swallowing nervously without replying. Betsy was her dearest friend, but this secret was something that could not be shared. One whisper of gossip and she and Joss were ruined.
"I don't know who you're talking about, Lilah said, turning her back and walking over to splash water on her face.
"Oh, yes, you do, Miss Lilah!" Betsy shook her head, her face taut with concern. "You been with that man, that one that's got the touch of the tarbrush. That- Joss. I remember how you were about him from the first night you met him. What you tole the master and Mr. Kevin about him not touching you whilst you were shipwrecked was a lie, wasn't it? You've done gone and let him bed you. Don't you try to lie to me, Miss Lilah. I know you like I know myself!"
"Oh, Betsy, I know it's bid but I can't help it. I'm in love with him!" Lilah had to confess; Betsy did know her, all too well. She could never hide this from her.
Betsy sucked in her breath. They stared at each other, one with horror, the other with anguish. Then Betsy reached out to take Lilah by the shoulders, gave her a little shake. There was no more mistress and maid, only two old and loving friends.
"Miss Lilah, you can't do this. You know you can't. You can't go sneakin' down to the quarters, beddin' with a man like that! You're a lady! If the master were to find out, or Mr. Kevin…" Betsy broke off, and shuddered visibly.
"I know! But I love him! He-he wants me to run away with him. To marry him." Lilah's voice broke as tears sprang to her eyes. Betsy took one horrified look at her mistress's white face, then folded the girl in her arms, rocking her gently against her.
"You are in a mess of trouble, aren't you, honey? But you already know what you've got to do. You can't see him anymore, you just can't. As to marryin' him-Miss Lilah, you might just as well think of marrying my Ben. It's the same thing."
Lilah lifted her head, pulled back a little from Betsy, a vivid picture of Ben, the plantation cobbler, appearing in her mind's eye. He was good-natured, handsome, a skilled worker-and ebony black.
She shook her head. "No!"
"It's the truth. Miss Lilah. You just don't want to admit it. You been like that ever since you was a little girl, not wanting to see anything that didn't suit you."
Lilah's chin came up. "Tell me something, Betsy-if Ben were white, would you still love him? Would you still want to be his woman?"
Betsy's eyes widened as she thought this over. Then she shook her head in consternation. "I see what you mean. Oh, honey, I don't know the answer. I only know that you're asking for a heap of misery and heartbreak if you don't stop this."
At the stubborn look on Lilah's face, she folded her mistress close again, hugged her.
"Damn all men," she muttered fiercely. Lilah, head resting tiredly on Betsy's shoulder, was inclined to agree.