Only Skin

Chapter 1

The man's wet beard prickled against his skin. Washed upon shore with nothing else except a single- An abrupt banging at my door broke me from my writing. To be fair, it may have only seemed to be a banging in my head, but was actually a gentle knock. My door opens, and my servant Thomas pops his head through. "Excuse me sir, but your father requires your presence in the lounge; you have guests."

Sighing, I replied my unneeded but respectable response of a "Thank you, Thomas. That will do." I set aside my leather-bound journal, filled with my writings and many of poesy (poetry).

My mother always told me that my imagination was very active as a young boy. I decided to put the imagination to good use and become an author. Although, my dreams for the future were pointless. My father would entitle me to the plantation soon, bringing money and family with it.

As I made my way downstairs, I wondered who the guests to my father could be. My mind went restless as I thought of the many possibilities; perhaps a fellow owner, maybe a negro, or maybe one of the many long list of cousins I've never met before.

Alas, I arrived to my destination and the worst thing imaginable happened. As I walked through the foyer doors to the lounge, I saw them. Sitting on chairs with tea in hand, were a family I had never seen before. They faced my father, and I could only see the back of their heads.

Father was in the middle of speaking when I walked in, "...I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you all again. Henry is-" he only stopped when he looked up and made eye contact with me. "Ah! Speak of him, here he is now. Henry, introduce yourself to our guests." The three people stood up immediately at the sound of my name. I had no idea who these people were, in fact, I had never seen them in my life.

The sound of my father clearing his through broke my train of thought, and I quickly followed the appropriate routine. I made my way over to the apparent guests standing up, pausing to kiss and shake hands as needed. Two of the people standing were women, and one a man. I presumed a family: a mother and a father with their daughter.

I gently but firmly shook the man's hand as my father introduced everyone "I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mrs.Robert Carson from Braxton county." As I bowed down to kiss the wife's chubby hand, I replied with script "It's a pleasure to meet you all." Moving onto their daughter's hand, I noticed Mrs. Carson slapping her daughter across the hand. "Oh yes, sorry Mother." She said as she took out and began awkwardly waving a paper fan around. I followed protocol and brushed the unappealing move off, and made my way to the empty seat by my father. I accidentally looked back at her with the corner of my eye and looked at her shocked face. Suddenly realizing my mistake, I asked the girl "I apologize. I did not catch your name?" Relief washed over her face as she replied "My name is Charolette." "Ah, well. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charolette."

"We are delighted to be here, Mr. William." Spoke the fat lady. "Please, the pleasure is all mine, Sharon." I had to mentally restrain myself from throwing my father an eyeroll as Sharon threw a blushing fit. Father was always a ladies man, having 3 wives within what seemed like a year. Not to mention his oh-so-many-lovers; in bound to have at least five or six half-siblings out there with random women. Unfortunately, I was his first born to his deceased first wife, my mother. This means I am the one who has been thrown upon with the duties of a proper man.

"It is so lovely to see you all again. I'm not sure Dashing Henry would remember our first encounter, however." Robert spoke, pulling me out of my daze. "You have to forgive me, sir. I'm afraid I do not remember meeting." Father threw me a look of pure annoyance at that. "We met once at your gala a few years back. I'm not surprised you do not recall it, though. You were young, just like Charlotte here. Probably no less than six or five." Wow. Am I supposed to remember when I was six?? I'm 19 for God's sake!

The discussion continued, and I added my usual and monotone responses here and there to act like I was actually intrigued by the conversation. But my ears automatically peeked up when my father spoke these fateful words: "I am hoping Henry and Charolette are still considerable for a courtship?"

Oh no.