Ellie

Ellie
Bellafont Plantation
June 1842

It was an unbearable summer at Bellafont. Ellie Theroit would have much rather been home in Paris enjoying the pomp of gentile life. Their estate home was one of the most coveted. Tall and stately with four levels, not including the under-levels containing the winery and bottling room, the laundry, house servant quarters, and a twist of nameless rooms that Ellie loved to explore on her own. They were low, dark, and arched with mystery hidden within their four-hundred years. To Ellie, these were her personal catacombs. The weather in Paris was modest compared to the humid stank of Bellafont. She missed the Paris Estate nearly as much as she missed her friends, and the amazing pastries and breads she’d lavish over on Saturday trips to the market.
It had been raining at Bellafont for six days straight. Ellie’s twelfths birthday was less than a week away. It would be her first birthday away from Paris. She wouldn’t have the pastries. She wouldn’t have the fancy cakes to choose from. She wouldn’t have the refined gifts she so loved. She wouldn’t have her friends. Daddy promised it will be better. is all she could tell herself.
It was true that Bellafont manor was a jewel among her surroundings. Other large plantation homes were nearby too. They were spaced out as were many Parisian county estates. They were large, unique, and refined. And, where in Paris the Theroit family had house servants, here in Bellafont there were slaves. Not only a handful, but hundreds. They mostly worked the fields. However, there were nearly twenty who managed the home handling the cooking, cleaning, washing clothing and linens, and even bringing Ellie and her sisters out to New Orleans when they needed more excitement than watching the rain fall on massive trees. While her sisters focused their studies on literature and music, Ellies oldest sibling, her brother, Jackson, was at work alongside their father. It would be Jackson who would take over the plantation. It would be Jackson who was responsible for the his sisters and the future success of their father’s labors.
Ellie glided gently on a swinging bench on the front porch. Jackson and three of their slaves - Ben, Abe, and Lentil - were busy creating a stone gate which would greet guests arriving by horse and carriage. Their father opted to have the Bellafont name above the gate as opposed to Theroit. That was a gift from their father to Jackson’s beloved wife Lizzie. Or, as she was formally known, Elizabeth Bellafont. It was her father who began the plantation in its infancy. It was Lizzie’s father from whom the Bellafont was purchased. It was Lizzie Bellafont whom Jackson became quickly enamored.
Jackson turned, pulling an old shirt from his pocket that had been cut and fashioned into a towel. He wiped the sweat, mud, and rain from his face. He pointed to Ben, the eldest of the slaves and directed him to move some of the stone under the weight of the gate post. Ben was a kindly man and Ellie had an affinity for him more than the others. Most did. Including Jackson, and Ellie’s sister’s Lenora and Bridgette.
Old Ben looked up to the porch and waved to Ellie. Ellie’s bored face reimagined itself into a wide smile. She sat up and waved back. Then Ben was back at work.
“Don’t tell daddy where I’m going.” Lenora’s voice was sharp as she closed the front door and looked toward Ellie.
“Who’d you say that to?” Ellie was curious. Lenora wore an attractive dress. Certainly not for lounging around Bellafont. Lenora’s waist was cinched tight, indicating the latest in corset fashion. “Where are you going?”
“Not for you to know little one.”
“Oh, Lenora. Why do you keep secrets from me?”
“Because you are too young to know.”
“I am not that young. I am only…” she counted on her fingers, “I am only eleven years younger than you.”
“Yes, but that is a lot of time.”
Ellie fell back into the bench tossing her arms across her chest and pouting. “You never share anything with me.”
Lenora glanced around to mae sure no one was near. She stepped toward Ellie. Moved her sister to scoot over on the bench. “Fine. if you can keep a secret, then I will tell you.”
Ellie perked up nodding her head. “Yes! yes…” She lowered her voice. “I can Lenora. I promise. I can, I can.”
Lenora pursed her crimson lips together. She’d recently been sent several new lip colorings from a friend in Paris. She looked beautiful in all of them. “Daddy thinks I am going into Paris to find a new dress. I may. But, my real intent is to visit the sorcière.”
Ellie gasped, tossing her hand to her mouth. “Lenora, you are not!”
The two giggled and Lenora placed her hands on Ellie’s lap to calm her. “Yes, yes, I am.”
“But that woman. They say she is a… what do they call her? A witch?”
“Maybe. There are other names too. We call her the sorcière. Is that any different?”
“How did you meet her? Have you met Her? Why are you-”
“Quiet little sister. You have so many questions that I don’t have answers to. But, some I do. Old Ben, he is father to one of the Sorcière’s servants. Ben says that there are rumors about Bellafont that have been hidden. He says that his son has spoken of the legends of this ground. Ben has even told me stories of treasure and nefarious activity. Ben says the sorcière was often used by Lizzie’s parents to guide their decisions. She both blessed and cursed Bellafont. I want to know.”
“Will you tell me her stories? Will you tell me what she says?” Ellie bounced up, “I so love a good mystery. And treasure? Do you think it is real?”
Lenora sat upright, her corset making it difficult to breathe. “Yes, yes, I will tell you those things. Of course I will. But, that is not why I am visiting the sorcière.”
“No? Then why?”
“I am interested in those stories. But…” Lenora took a long breath and paused in her reply as one of the house servants opened the front door, walked down the steps, and jogged as quickly as she dared across the wet grass and mud to the stone building across from the main house. When it was safe, Lenora moved in closer to Ellie. “I am going to ask the sorcière if I can be her apprentice. I want to know the things that she knows.”
Ellie clasped her hands to her face, covering everything except her widened brown eyes. “You are not?” she giggled.
Lenora couldn’t withhold her smile. “Yes, I am.”
“What about Birdgette. Does she know?”
“Yes, Bridgette arranged it. She is not interest in knowing such things. But she does think it is fun and interesting.”
“And Jackson?”
“No! Jackson knows nothing. Nor does Daddy. You mustn’t say anything to either of them. And don’t talk to Bridgette about it yet either. I told her that I would not taint you with such things.”
“So, this is our secret? You and me?”
Lenora gave her youngest sister a strong hug and then kissed the soft hair on Ellie’s head. “Yes, this is our secret.”
It was then that the two were distracted by a carriage halted at the gate where Jackson and Abe were working. The carriage was pulled by two large horses. They were tall, well groomed, and as stunning a creature as either had ever seen in Paris. A horseman held the reigns to his chest. A rain cloth was pulled out above him, keeping him free from getting wet, and diverting the rain to the side of the carriage. He still wore a thick coat, a tall hat, and an additional blanket pulled over his lap.
“That must be my ride.” Lenora said.
“I wish that I could come with you, Lenora.”
“Maybe some day.”
Ellie returned her sister’s previous embrace. “Be careful. And when you come back you must tell me everything.”
Lenora stood, kissed the top of her sister’s head again, “I will. I promise.”
Ellie laughed, “Bridgette always tells me that you are the wild one. She says you are always in trouble.”
Lenora couldn’t stifle her laugh. “She does, does she? Well, let me tell you something about Bridgette…” Lenora leaned down to whisper in Ellie’s ear. “Bridgette is usually right.” They both broke into laughter.
Lenora stood and the two watched as the horseman came up to the main house with a large umbrella in his hand meant for Lenora. With the gate under construction it was not possible for the horses and carriage to make their way beyond the entry. Lenora did not care about getting wet. She did not care about getting dirty.
As the horseman stepped up, Lenora noticed the man was not much older than she. His eyes were a rare blue. His hair was a blend of ginger and wheat. He smiled as she slid her arm into his. Underneath his thick coat she could feel the firm curve of the muscle in his arms. Lenora looked to Ellie and winked.
Ellie was too young to understand the complexities of Lenora and the men who seemingly fell to her. But she understood enough to know that Lenora held power over men. Whatever Lenora learned from the sorcière, Ellie wondered if it would be just interesting. Or dangerous.
“I will be back tomorrow little sister.” Lenora said, her arm now slipped inside the coat of the horseman and around his waist. “I will tell you all about it.” Lenora skipped off into the rain, protected only by the umbrella and the handsome horseman.
Ellie sat up, her back straight as if she wore a corset. She waved at her sister, eagerly awaiting everything Lenora would tell her the following day.
That was the last time the two sisters would see each other again.