The Grand Masquerade (The Bold Women Series Book 4) Read Free Page A

gold.
    “Someday I will see it all,” she murmured to the dogs.
    As she mused, a crane caught her eye. She could see him just beyond the green strands of the tree, strutting in the shallow water. Sydnee loved all creatures but particularly birds. It was because of her love of birds that Vivian had come to her.
    Sydnee dropped back with her hands behind her head, thinking about life in the city to the south. Margarite had spoken also of her life on the sugar cane plantation in Martinique. Sydnee knew this was where Margarite was born and where she received her training in Hoodoo, and her ritual scarring. These stories were not as beautiful though. In fact they were frequently disturbing. They often ended in talk of cruelty to slaves and people using Voodoo for dark purposes, a practice which Margarite abhorred.
    Suddenly she heard the bell ringing from the porch of the cabin. It was her signal to return to the house. As she rose, she felt the muscles of her abdomen spasm. She recognized this feeling from her first pregnancy. It was her belly practicing for birth.
    As she headed down the path with the dogs, she stopped to check her turtle traps. She had six holes, about ten inches deep, along the banks of creek to lure turtles. Sydnee would entice them with worms around the ridge of the hole, placing the juiciest morsels at the bottom of the hollow. Greedy for the best worms, the turtles would drop down to the bottom of the hole and be trapped. The catch was small today. She scooped up the few turtles she found and held them in the skirt of her dress. She would take them home to Margarite for soup.
    As she walked down the path in her bare feet, Vivian landed on her shoulder. Baloo lumbered behind her as Atlantis dashed in and out of the creek, scaring up waterfowl. The birds would burst out of the marshy grasses with their wings thundering. On one occasion, the terrier put her nose underwater and then yelped. She was investigating a snapping turtle too closely.
    When Atlantis returned to shore, she stood in their path and shook her coat, spattering Sydnee and Vivian with water. Sydnee blinked but Vivian swooped down giving Atlantis a punitive peck on the head. The dog immediately dropped into a crouch and ducked into the bushes.
    When Vivian landed back on her shoulder, Sydnee commanded, “Come!” and Atlantis came out to the path once more. Sydnee reached up to dry her face with her sleeve. Her dress was nothing more than a rag. It had been a well-made gown at one time, but now it was threadbare, faded, and ragged around the hem. Her clothing came from a Kaintuck whose wife died along The Trace several years back. The man gave them three dresses, a sun bonnet and an apron. Prior to that, Sydnee had worn only the garments left by her mother. Victor Sauveterre did not think it was necessary the females have fabric for clothing. He thought they should make-do with sack cloth or burlap and that footwear was a luxury, so Sydnee never owned a pair of shoes.
    Margarite was hanging Victor Sauveterre’s clothes up to dry. She was wearing her faded turban or tignon and a brown gown with a dirty, white apron. A string of shells hung from her neck, and she had one hoop earring in her ear. Sydnee could smell the rice and gravy simmering in the Dutch oven on the campfire near the cabin. It was too hot to cook inside the house this time of year.
    Chickens scattered as the dogs raced up to greet the old woman. She bent down stiffly to pet them, murmuring endearments as she scratched their ears. Margarite always moved slowly, but lately her crippled hip caused her to move even slower because of increased pain. Sydnee knew this was one of the reasons she was drinking heavily.
    Sydnee and Margarite managed to hide the drinking from Sydnee’s father thus far, but her failing health was hard to disguise. Sydnee noticed the woman’s appetite was decreasing and that she was drinking more and more corn whiskey instead of eating. Margarite had