An offer (of sorts)

Dear Diary, (May 21st)

I had an unexpected visit today. In the end it did not amount to anything, but the visit and the offer that came with it has made it clear to me how weak my situation truly is.

I was sitting in my father's library reading through the plantation ledger trying to make sense of my inheritance. I should have asked Mr. Kyleson to join me, as he could explain in five minutes as much as I gleaned from reading the accounts, but I had not forgotten neither his cool welcome nor disdainful attitude.

However, it is now clear that compared to Mr. Kyleson who is a hard-hided boar, my cousin Miles Manton is a most despicable snake.

I still have only a rough sense of the extent of my inheritance, but even I know it is worth far more than $5,000 dollars. I am getting ahead of myself.

As I said, Mr. Manton was led into the library by the elderly negro doorman, who apologized for the sudden intrusion. I am still getting to know the names and manners of the house slaves, but Ol' Will served long enough to know better than to allow this man to push his way into my presence. On the other hand, as a negro and a ****, there wasn't much he could do to stop Manton. I waved Will away and turned my attention to the unexpected guest. My cousin was as impeccably dressed today as for the reading of the will, but the fine clothes did not improve his manners.

“Take it or leave it.” Mr. Manton tossed a folded paper onto my desk with a contemptuous flip of his fingers. “It is the only offer you'll get; I do not negotiate with nigger girls.”

I remember opening the folded paper with trembling fingers trying to hide my surprise and anger. The neatly inked script filled barely a paragraph, and the wording was formal and legalistic, but the offer was not difficult to understand. For a 'consideration of $5,000' I was to relinquish any claim to my father's plantation and never again to return to the great State of South Carolina. As I read and reread the simple words Mr. Manton lit his pipe and smiled at me knowingly.

“That's a lot of money, girl, even in Philadelphia.” I have tried with my pencils to capture the look of disdain and contempt my cousin had on his face as he drew once again on his pipe.

I still, almost six hours later, am not sure if Miles truly expected me to accept this insulting offer. Judging by the startled look on his face, I know he was not expecting me to tear the paper into four pieces and drop it in the waste.

“Good day, Mr. Manton.” In hindsight I should have realized that my cousin was not in the state to be dismissed by a woman a dozen years younger than him, certainly not by a 'nigger girl.' He reached across the table and dragged me from my chair as I yelped in surprise.

“You little brown snip.” Manton's pipe dropped from his mouth as he snarled angrily, “I am a God-fearing gentleman of Charleston, not some simpering Quaker from your city of brotherly love.” As strong as he was, there was little I could do to stop him, and I found myself pulled all the way across the desk and dumped onto the carpet at his feet.

I do not know if it was intentional on his part or just an unfortunate turn of fate, but during the rough **** the sleeve of my dress was pulled from my shoulder with a loud rip leaving the left side of my dress torn open. Manton's eyes narrowed, and his expression shifted from anger to something more ... predatory. From my position sprawled at his feet I could see the swelling bulge in the crotch of his dark trousers.