Sweetbrier Academy:Having Faith Read online

  Sweetbrier Academy Book One

  Having Faith

  By

  Nancy P. O’Berry

  Dedication

  I wish to thank my publisher for taking a chance, my editor, and my cover artist for making this book a success. To my husband, you are the love in my life.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Having Faith by Nancy P. O’Berry

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  Publishing with a touch of Class! ™

  The symbol of the Red Rose and Red Rose is a trademark of Red Rose™ Publishing

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  Copyright© 2007 Nancy P. O’Berry

  Series Title: Sweetbrier Series

  ISBN: 978-1-60435-243-6

  Cover Artist: Nancy

  Editor: Monti

  Line Editor: WRFG

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away.

  This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

  Forestport, NY 13338

  Thank you for purchasing a book from Red Rose™Publishing where publishing

  comes with a touch of Class!

  Having Faith

  By

  Nancy P. O’Berry

  Sweetbrier Academy, May 1875

  Spring has finally arrived in Wyoming. The winds sweep down from the mountains to our west and brush the long grasses of the prairie clean. My girls and I are well settled into our new home. It is quite larger than the brick and mortar building we occupied in New Orleans.

  Some in our quarter thought our minds a bit deranged from the events of the recent unpleasantness between North and South and General Butler’s edicts against our ladies and their trade. Those that wished to stay; I found homes in other houses so they could carry on their livelihood and took upon myself to place an advertisement in newspapers from Georgia to Virginia. Many young ladies applied but only twelve were chosen.

  They range in age from eighteen years to twenty-eight and have been schooled in the finest parlor skills from classical piano to simple pleasures. These are the stories of my three most promising girls.

  Opal Benedict

  Sweetbrier Academy

  Faith

  “A woman you can trust, who is loyal, when belief is not substantiated by proof”

  Chapter One

  Somewhere on the long corridor of the second floor a door closed, jolting Faith from a deep sleep. She cracked one eye, listening as the footsteps moved down the polished floors to the stairs. Groaning, she rolled over and pulled the thick silk comforter from beneath her arms, trying to snuggle back down for another ten minute catnap before rising to face the day.

  The sunlight wiggled in beneath the window shade across from her bed, tugging at her eyelids. Faith did her best to ignore it, however being raised on a farm, the call of the early morning seemed too charming to resist. Tossing back the covers, she pulled the soft cloth of her robe over her camisole and moved to the window. Giving the string a gentle tug, the blind rose halfway, allowing her a glimpse of the broad vistas she now called home.

  How different the prairie looked compared to the city of New Orleans where the ladies of Sweetbrier Academy once lived. The wide open green spaces were in deep contrast to the dank, dark cobblestones while the mountains towered higher than any brick or mortar Faith knew. She breathed deep, inhaling the sweet rain-washed air. The move had been a positive one, even if it seemed outrageous to pick up a group of women only to deposit them in the remote vista of the west and continue the escort business for higher class of industrial magnates. Even the railroad had placed a small rail spur to the town of Panther’s Landing, on the premise it moved cattle.

  Faith, however, knew the real truth. Still, it did not upset her, for she also knew the horror that women faced on the streets, the degradation that Miss Benedict saved her and the others from.

  Faith dropped to the window seat, watching Nanny move among the chickens, tossing handfuls of corn onto the ground for them to peck. The hens clustered about her feet like the men did around Miss Benedict in the evenings. Picking up a pillow, hugging it to her breasts, Faith closed her eyes drinking in the warmth of the sun.

  Images flashed. Memories of those long hard Georgia winters spent after Sherman’s march to the sea. The bands of vigilantes that followed scarred the land beyond repair. Her mother gave up hope when the cold and damp froze the seeds in the ground. Starving, the woman had taken her own life, thrusting Faith into a cruel and sometimes heartless world. In desperation, she used the last of their money buying a ticket to New Orleans.

  She arrived in the spring of 1870, a wide-eyed, scrawny child of sixteen with dreams of being a lady. Only she hadn’t known the ways of men, or how they would take advantage of her youth. Faith sighed and replaced the pillow on the seat beside her. Miss Benedict had changed that. Brought her here, educated her beyond her wildest dreams and now, at the age of twenty-three, she’d blossomed into that lady. Faith smiled with satisfaction. Not only could she discuss the politics of Reconstruction and the evils of Chinese labor, but under her benefactress’ tutoring, she’d learned how to play the piano, speak in French, and dress the part of an elegant escort. No one would know the difference between her and a socialite if she were to make an appearance in at the Governor’s Ball.

  Rising, Faith moved to the looking glass that stood in the corner of her room, a standard issue for a woman of Sweetbrier. Turning to her side, she inspected her figure. She ran her hands beneath the two round mounds of flesh then along the smooth planes of her belly to the flank of her hips admiring the shapely curves Mother Nature had endowed. Miss Benedict’s broader education had taught her how to use these gifts well.

  Staring at the images in the glass, Faith surveyed the rest of her room. A rather large feather bed jutted out from the corner of her room covered with a soft colored quilt that matched the curtains. A washstand with a pitcher and bowl, so her callers might bathe before entering her bed and a table with two chairs completed the intimate setting. In all it was a welcoming place to live.

  “Miss Faith?”

  Turning from her reflection, she looked in the direction of the doorway, “Yes, Nanny?”

  “It’s morning. Miss Benedict sent me up to get the girls down for breakfast,” she replied.

  “I’ll be right down,” Faith responded. Picking up the brush, she hurried to finish her morning routine.

  Not bothering with her corset, she slipped her day dress over her shoulders and buttoned the weskit closed. Bending down to rescue her soft slippers from beneath the bed, Faith slid her feet into the leathers and buttoned the strap without benefit of hose. The tap of feet past her door signaled the rest of the girls had been awakened and were hurrying to take their places.

  Steps quickening, she moved to join the other ladies as they traipsed down the hall to descend the magnificent grand staircase, which led to the first floor.

  “Morning, Faith,” called Joy who moved in fr
om the opposite wing to walk beside her. “Did you have a good night?”

  Faith smiled, “Yes, it was quite promising.”

  A smile played around the corners of Faith’s lips turning her mouth upward into something rather sly and beguiling. It had indeed been a rather interesting night. She had flirted with several officers from the army and spent her time in the arms of a gentleman from Chicago. Her body still hummed from his ardent attentions yet there was no emotional attachment. Even with that, Faith took a deep breath wondering if life held more. The voice of another woman shook her from her reverie.

  Joy nodded, “I was in charge of entertainment this week. One gentleman with the Chicago party spent fifty dollars just for me to play one song upon the spinet.”

  Faith caught the wistful look in the woman’s eyes and reached over to pat her arm, “He’ll be back one day, soon. Did you give him your card?”

  “Yes, he tucked it into his billfold.” she answered, a blush spilling across her cheeks. “I think he could fancy me.”

  “I see,” Faith nodded then posed her own query. “But the real question is could you fancy him?”

  When Joy didn’t reply, Faith rushed to finish. “Do not fly into entanglements. I think it might be best to allow some sort of fellowship between you.”

  Joy sighed, but nodded her agreement.

  At the bottom of the stairs, the ladies fell into two lines to enter the large room on the right. As they passed the head of the table, each acknowledged the woman already seated with the same greeting.

  “Morning, Miss Benedict.”

  With each greeting, Opal Benedict, Madame of Sweetbrier Academy, gave a nod and watched as her ’ladies’ took their places at the large oak table. Her ‘girls’, Faith mused, were really women. All were over the age of eighteen some closer to thirty, and each had chosen to follow Miss Benedict into the world of comfort giver, courtesan, paramour, lover in exchange for the dream of making a better place for herself in this world. The word on the street rumored Miss Benedict’s ladies made the most elegant escorts and the most satisfying wives.

  Once seated, Faith watched as Miss Benedict picked up the small silver bell from beside her place and gave three crisp rings. The doors opposite the table opened allowing Nanny and Big John to enter with the morning’s feast, a platter of sausages, eggs, and fresh cinnamon rolls. A deep breath filled Faith’s nose with the delightful aromas.

  “Thank you, Nanny,” Miss Benedict nodded, as the cook stood back waiting to see how her efforts would be accepted.

  Only after the headmistress removed her napkin and placed it in her lap did Faith and the others follow suit. With each head bowed, grace was given.

  “Heavenly Father, we thank you for the bountiful gifts you lay before our table today and we pray that our efforts tonight will soothe the souls you send our way,” prayed Miss Benedict.

  “Amen,” Faith repeated.

  Routines complete, the platters of food made their rounds about the table. Over the clatter of the dishes and the small talk, Miss Benedict spoke in French, “Les bonnes dames de matin vous sont comment aujourd'hui,”.

  Faith listened carefully, translating the message, “Good morning ladies how are you today?” Taking a breath, “Je suis bien.” she answered without pause.

  Her response brought a smile to Madame’s face. “It is always good when a man hears a gentle term, whether it be early morning or late at night in a woman’s arms.”

  Faith’s cheeks turned deep pink from the praise.

  “Ladies, we have business this evening. So let us not tarry over our meal."

  She felt a nudge against her elbow and gave a quick glance to the older woman beside her. Charity, one of the original ladies from New Orleans sent her a wink. Turning her attention the meal, Faith began to eat.

  Once released from breakfast, Faith scurried up the stairs to begin her chores. Hurrying down the hallway, she planned to work from the back of the hallway, to the front. Today her job entailed removing the soiled sheets from each of the bedrooms. Miss Benedict’s long standing rule required beds to be made fresh every other day or more if needed. Pausing at the next room, Faith found Charity ready and waiting.

  “I love this room,” Charity exclaimed, as she opened the door to the corner room and entered to help.

  Like all the other rooms, it contained only a few pieces of functional furniture, a wardrobe to hold their clothing, a chair, looking glass, round marble-topped table, a wash stand, and a luxurious feather bed, momentarily adorned with pillows, which come this evening, might adjourn the floor as Hope entertained her gentleman friend.

  Every room in Sweetbrier was different. Miss Benedict decorated for each girl with their own colors. This room was done in soft blue. Faith pulled back the satin quilt and folded it before attacking the bed. The other girl moved behind her to mop and dust. Those who were working on lessons would move in the second wave and replenish the bedding as their destinations rotated.

  Once the rooms were stripped and the sheets brought outside and deposited with the wash, both Charity and Faith moved back to sweep the porch. Traveling from one side around to the front of the wrap around shelter, then back their brooms raised a cloud of dust as they worked. A door opened and Miss Benedict emerged from the inside.

  “Faith, may I have a word with you?”

  “Yes,” she answered giving a small curtsy.

  Placing her broom next to the door, Faith gave a quick look to her companion before following her benefactress into the home. Keeping a respectful two steps behind, she allowed herself to be led into the mistress’s office.

  “Please, Faith, sit,” she gestured toward the chair.

  Faith took the small red velvet chair before the desk and waited while Miss Benedict made herself comfortable.

  “Have I done something wrong?” she asked, seeing the hesitation that allowed Miss Benedict’s lips to form a thin line.

  Miss Benedict blinked, and then smiled, “No, my dear quite the opposite. I’ve noticed in the past few months how you’ve grown. You seemed to have developed a regal bearing that has drawn the attention of some of my more important patrons. With that said, I have a private party coming in to play cards. I was wondering if you would be willing help this evening with our guests.”

  Faith’s heart leapt. “I would be honored.”

  Even as she spoke, Miss Benedict held up a hand of caution. “This isn’t your usual game, my dear.”

  “In what way, Madame Benedict,” she could feel her heart racing as she spoke, for the Madame often entertained private parties mixing business with pleasure of the most enjoyable kind. She watched as Madame dampened her lips with the edge of her tongue.

  “A friend of mine is in town, a Mr. Stetson. He works for the railroad.” Miss Benedict shuffled several papers before looking up. “He has contacted me and he wishes his friends to take pleasure in their stay over night in Panther’s Landing.”

  “We are going into town?”

  Faith noted the blush on Madame’s cheeks.

  “No, my dear, they are coming to us for a game of cards and the man who wins the final pot has the opportunity, if you are agreeable, to spend the night in your bed.”

  Faith sat up straighter. She thought for a moment. Her mouth grew dry as her thoughts drifted to the unspoken challenge. “I am the prize?” she inquired.

  “You are indeed my dear. I can assure you these are the finest of men. Their pockets run quite deep. If you agree, they will not ask you to do anything that will make you feel uncomfortable.” With that said, Miss Opal Benedict sighed. “Faith, I expect you to use all the skills at your disposal to make sure that their evening brings the utmost pleasure. It is my hope that tonight you will find a sponsor that will provide for you the income you deserve.”

  “I see,” Faith thought for only a moment before speaking again. “When you say, sponsor, you mean that this man will keep me as his own paramour, his mistress?”

  Opal nodded. “
I will offer him your services only if you find a common interest, a spark in the union. Becoming a mistress is a huge undertaking. I have offered this only twice before and those ladies have been able to leave my establishment at the end of their tenure. One married her suitor. The second found herself able to start her own business and became quite successful I might add. However, you must understand, it is your choice. You may let me know now, or by this evening.”

  Faith took a deep breath. She had a chance, chance to see the world, a chance to see other aspects of life. She had always thought of Miss Benedict as a second mother, as the woman that saved her from a horrible fate on the streets, but the chance to leave the Academy and become a woman in her own right. She pondered the consequences, yet her heart leapt at the idea. Without hesitation, she spoke, “I accept the challenge.”

  Miss Benedict nodded. “I will have Nanny do a fitting this afternoon.” She leaned forward placing her clasped hands on the desk. “Faith, tonight, I expect you to be in readiness.”

  “I have already experienced my monthly. Just last week, Dr. Randall pronounced me in good health.”

  Miss Benedict bowed her head in reply. “Very well, Faith, you need to make sure your room is in order and I will alert Nanny to expect you at two, you will have your fitting for your gown, at four you will be massaged and oiled. Dinner will be early. You will then review the preferred drinks, and their proper mixture.”

  “Yes, Madame Benedict.”

  She rose, leaving the Madame to make notes upon her ledger.

  Chapter Two

  “Stand straight. Pull those shoulders back, girl. I want this to fit underneath that bosom of yours.” Nanny fumed.

  Faith pulled her shoulders back thrusting her breast nearly into the woman’s face as she pulled the deep purple velvet of the jacket tighter. The pressure accentuating her fullness, nearly spilling her flesh out of the heart shaped neckline.