The Sorceress (43 page)

The slaves all smiled hopefully. If the mistress recovered, Eris would be put in her place and things would be back to normal on the Stovall Plantation.

Arthur Stovall believed his wife was under Eris's expert care, but Eris, disgusted by the awful stench in the sickroom, preferred the sweet smell of her own quarters, which Molly filled with fresh cut flowers daily.

Expecting Edith to expire at any moment, Eris had stopped providing personal care and now the sickly woman's pasty-colored skin and wildly tangled hair was a completely unappealing sight. In fact, everything about the sickroom and its occupant was unpleasant and not a suitable place for a woman such as Eris, who was living in the lap of luxury.

But with the mistress's unwillingness to just go ahead and give up the ghost, Eris had no choice but to make the remedy stronger—more toxic. She'd left the handling of the infirm woman to Make-Do, giving the old slave strict orders to now give the mistress three heaping spoons of the concoction every day.

Eris had custody of every article of clothing Edith Stovall owned. In order to prove his devotion and the sincerity of his love, Arthur had recently given Eris a cameo brooch, and upon his wife's imminent death, Eris fully expected to inherit the woman's entire collection of jewels, especially her beautiful wedding ring. Of course, she wouldn't
wear
the woman's wedding ring; she'd keep it along with the treasure of jewelry she'd acquired and hid in the box she kept buried near her vegetable patch.

Then, when it was time to move on, she'd leave the useless garments, hats and other finery—but the box of jewels would accompany her on the journey to the next plantation.

Eris's plan was to make her way up north. Once settled there as a free woman, she'd cash in her jewelry and live the good life without having to rely on the males that drained her powers with their greedy mouths, depleting her of her womanhood.

Ever so sweetly, Eris persuaded Arthur to take the buggy and meet his banker in town. She considered sending Make-Do along under the pretense of tending to the horse, but she'd instruct him to keep an ear out for any important financial information. However, needing the old man to empty the slop jar and take care of the mistress, she decided Arthur could make the two-day journey alone.

Having not stepped a foot inside the sickroom in weeks, Eris had no idea that Make-Do had stopped administering the lethal potion to the mistress and had been hand-feeding her mashed fruit, soft boiled vegetables, and several glasses of water per day. Thus, Edith Stovall was slowly but surely coming back to good health.

Eris stayed so far away from the attic, she hadn't heard all the laughter and sounds of merriment that emanated from the sickroom. Nor did she hear the Missus clunking around with Make-Do's cane as she taught herself how to walk again.

And so it was a tremendous shock when Eris awakened in her beautiful, sweet-smelling, flower-filled room to an oddly familiar odor. She thought she had to be dreaming when she opened her eyes and beheld the mistress, looking like an old crone propped up with Make-Do's cane, as she observed with increasing rage the splendid surroundings that Eris had become accustomed to.

The wedding ring on the frail hand that gripped the cane caught Eris's attention. She'd wanted that ring so badly; now it was too late...