Bell assisted Elaine Haskins with her new canary yellow gown. The fancy muslin gown was tastefully accented with white frills and tassels. It was the latest rage in Paris and she’d hounded her dear father for months until he’d finally given in and bought it for her birthday. How Elaine filled that gown. Her breasts were firm and full, adding graceful curves transforming the fabric into a breath taking work of art. She was the picture of shy, cultivated innocence. Yet there was just that tantalizing hint of a mischievous Circe lurking beneath her calm exterior that gave an enticing depth to her otherwise predictable personality. The lavish gown was low cut, more than simply hinting at an exquisitely seductive cleavage that any red blooded male would be ogling at during the next event. In fact the dress was so daring that most of the boys would be surpassing hard-ons the moment they saw this voluptuous siren waft her exotic presence among those poor, deprived mere mortals.

Her heart shaped face was like peaches and cream. Rosy cheeks highlighted her alabaster skin and her lustrous rust brown locks fell in fancy ringlets over her shapely shoulders. But it was those deep flashing sea green eyes that could captivate any ambitious swain. They were deep pools that hinted at passions at yet untapped and undiscovered. When her pouting lips suddenly became a dazzling smile, the recipient of such favor felt like he’d been granted a pardon from some member of the royalty. When she asked for some lad to kindly help her to a chair or bring her some punch, at least three glasses of the fruity drink would appear like magic in front of her. The beautiful temptress would giggle some inanity like, “Land sakes! I only wanted one.”

Elaine was an intoxicating five feet one inch beauty whose very presence at the upcoming harvest ball would be sure to turn many heads. Fist fights had almost occurred over who would ask missy Elaine for the next dance. Miss Haskins sure could turn heads and not just the lads her own age. Many an older man licked his lips imagining what it would be like to mount this little simpering teaser and turn her into a hollering vixen. Most of the girls her age envied her to the point of sheer jealousy. Needless to say, this desirable young lady was the singular object that both Jacob and Ben were trying to win as the great prize on the altar of matrimony. However they were well aware that they had a lot of competition from all over the county.

“So Bell, who do you think are the most eligible young men at the harvest ball?”

Bell was an older servant in the Haskin’s household. She was almost fifty now and her quiet manner and her rotund appearance testified to her relatively easy life as a house slave. While others dropped in the fields from exhaustion, heat or illness, Bell only had to do cooking and cleaning and occasionally help her young charge get properly decked out for important Savannah social functions.

“Gosh missy I don’t know. There’s Massa Ben and Massa Jacob fo sho. Them’s two are real fine lookin’. Massa Will and Massa Sam be real good to. I hear tell that Massa Ben is up to a little Tom Cattin’ lately.”

Elaine was incorrigibly addicted to gossip. She just loved hearing about any sort of scandal that was one reason why she invented reasons to talk with the female servants and somehow, the dirt was passed from one plantation to another. Perhaps Alice Hunter still didn’t know but every n###er on Hunter’s place new that Maggie was balling Ben every night.

Rosy checked Maggie’s bed and rumpled it for her so if Alice looked in the morning, she would think that Maggie had slept in it. Occasionally Rosy or Ruth would sneak upstairs to listen at Ben’s bed room door. They just loved to hear Ben moaning in ecstasy while Maggie squealed or giggled when the bed sport got hot. Sooner or later, Rosy would tell all the salacious details to Emily Haskins footman. Fortuitously for the gossip grapevine, the Haskins matriarch visited Alice Hunter quite often. Inevitably this very talkative footman revealed the “secret” to the entire Haskin’s servant staff and as a result Bell was able to relate all the juicy events to her open eared mistress.

“So Bell whose Ben takin’ up with?”

Bell’s voice got low and conspiratorial. “I here’s that old man Hunter bought a handsome bed wench for Ben from the Hawker plantation. I think her name be Maggie and accordin’ to what I hear, she a real good looker and she do some very naughty things in Bens bed. She’ll be getting’ a young one soon enough I reckon. Ben puts it to her for hours every night he does. He got that little fire fox bitin’ and scrachin’ like some she cat in heat and no mistake.”