A New Era

You’ve grown up in a privileged household due to your father, Jamison Foster, being a skilled businessman and your mother l, Everlyn, coming from a prestigious background. You have an older sister, Esme Hanks, who recently married a merchant store owner, Wiley Hanks, as well as younger sister, Adeline Foster.

Due to your station, you’ve been adorned with the finer things in life, including supremacy over servants such as Garth Shaw. Despite him being your favorite, he’s also the one you boss around the most and harshly punish. Sometimes a slap, others a whip, a few no food… punishments that’re normal among plantations and farmlands.

When the civil war took place, great divide hit the country leaving everyone in suspense, and then there was shock from the Emancipation Proclamation. Yet, despite slaves being freed in 1863, many, including your own family’s, remained.

Yet, unbeknownst to you, amidst the abuse and inequality, Garth was preparing, prepping, and planning. You’d underestimated his intelligence, his ability to self-educate, to read, to write, to learn about finance. To create connections and learn the innings and outs of business.

No doubt, it takes him awhile. But by the end of 1867, he’s done it among other one great shock.

With your mother and Adeline out shopping, you’re enjoying some lemonade at a white iron table with an umbrella shading you from the sun, you jolt when you hear your father storming out the house in a rage. Before you can even investigate, you see Garth chuckling, slowly following him out.

Your father spews a few things you can’t hear before storming off. You stand up and take a few steps before Garth notices you. Before you can blink, he’s standing right in front of you with an intense gaze, one you’ve never seen from him. “My lady,” he drawls with a depth, a confident depth. “I’ve waited a long day for this.”

Ready for the consequences, he yanks you by the waist, pops a gag of cloth past your lips, and lifts you over his shoulder. Despite your protests and muffled shouts, he overpowers you, mocking, “I’m a free man now, my Lady. I’ve procured my freedom from your filthy family, land with a manor, yes, a manor my lady, and now… well now I am going to gain a wife.”

Your eyes widen as the words ring through your ears. Indeed, racial marriage has been approved due to the Loving V. Virginia court case. You’d never agree though.

As if reading your mind, he whispers, “You have no choice in this. After years of torture, you should’ve seen this coming,” as he approaches a carriage from the unattended back gate of your estate. “Don’t worry, I’ll make an honest woman of you yet,” he darkly chuckles before forcing you inside.

He ties your wrists and ankles, each tight knight filling him with satisfaction, the tears in your eyes pure justice. “Father dearest won’t know until it’s too late,” he adds with cocky hum. “And he’ll have no other choice but to accept me. After all, what white man would want you after being touched by me? I’m the best you’ve got now, darling.”

Within fifteen minutes, the carriage stops in front of a grand manor and wheels down a long dirt path shaded by red oaks. He carries you inside before dropping you on a grand bed in your soon-to-be- marital room. “Welcome home,” he sneers before gripping your neck and squeezing your tear-stained cheeks. “Count yourself lucky I don’t intend to take you until our wedding night. It’s the one mercy I’ll grant you. Now, rest up my dear as tomorrow you will be Mrs. Shaw.”

With that, he cuts your ropes before leaving, the door locking shut behind him. You run to the windows only to find them barred and high above the ground. Checking the lock next, you bang your hand against the door when it doesn’t budge.

You try screaming, kicking, and lying in wait for some way out, yet even when a maid comes to deliver food, there’s a guard to ensure you don’t try escaping. Garth doesn’t appear, to both your relief and distress. You’re bathed and dressed by a servant when it grows dark.

Surely your family’s looking for you, and yet as you lie awake with your ears strained for your father’s men on horses and carriages, they never come. By morning, you’re groggy and exhausted, hyper aware of step outside, sound, and the time.

At noon, the same maid from yesterday, Lucy, enters the room holding an intricately designed off-shoulder wedding dress with short ruffled sleeves. The full wide skirts are outlined by silver trim with the bodice dipping into a V at the waist where the expensive corset is attached, layered by solid white fabric outlined by lace.

With great struggle, it isn’t until the maid threatens to bring in the guard that you reluctantly comply. After dressing you in pantalettes, your crinolette, heels, then the dress, you wince as she pulls the corset’s laces tighter and tighter. The fabric closes in with the boning cinching in your waist while lifting your breasts to the top of the off-shoulder neckline.

You’re dragged downstairs where, to your shock and confusion, stands your father with clutched fists and rage hanging by a thread. “Garth Shaw made it clear that he’s touched you when he came to me yesterday evening. Oh my daughter, I nearly murdered him. Yet he had you here in his possession. Rumors will spread about your virtue, so he’s asserted, on top of threatening to release private information about the business he somehow cheated his way to knowing, if you and I do not agree to this union. That-that,” having to cut himself from cussing, he grits, “piece of dirt’s demanded you become his devoted wife.”

Stepping closer, he whispers, “I will not let him stronghold you, my daughter. For now, you must marry him. And yes, even c-consummate. But do not despair. I shall ensure his death as soon as possible.” He cups your pale cheek. “You’ll inherit everything here while he’ll rot with the bugs and dry out beneath the sun in the dirt as he deserves. And we’ll eliminate any godforsaken seed that might dare grow in your womb.”

With a defeated sigh, he grips your shoulders. “He’s waiting outside for you with a preacher. Your mother, she was too distraught to come, but she’ll be by later this week. Please, for our family’s reputation and your own vengeance, agree.” He solemnly extends his elbow for you to take.