The girl next to me said, "Let me show you." She picked up one of the pods, broke off the end, and pulled it down. The pod opened up and she stripped the seeds from it. They rattled into the pan. She took the pod from my hands and turned it around. "There is a string which opens the pod when you do it properly," she said.
I looked at her, a girl of about fifteen, and she said, "I'm Mary Ellen. I am Charles'
granddaughter. My father is Bobby."
I bowed my head. "Mary Ellen. Thank you." I lowered my voice. "I have never shelled peas before. In the lowcountry, servants do this work."
Eleanor's voice spoke clearly above the chatter; I felt the color drain out of my face and then rush back as she spoke. "Here at Barraigh, everyone works," she said, "if they wish to eat."
I said nothing, my face still burning, and picked up another pod. I wanted to retort that I understood perfectly, that I knew what it was to work; but that I was neither a field hand nor a kitchen maid. But I held my tongue. I had no wish to bring attention to myself, to make Robbie ashamed of me. I would make myself amenable, no matter if it cost me my pride.
The days passed slowly, and out of them a routine grew. I rose in the mornings to the sound of the breakfast gong, and Rabbit brought me tea; then she would go up to the kitchens to fetch my breakfast, which, since the meal had been served just after dawn, would be cold bread and meat. After this I washed and dressed and went up to the big house, Rabbit with me, carrying the sewing basket. We would sit on the porch and work on our stitching until dinnertime; after the meal I would go back to the cabin for a nap. Supper was always served before the sun went down; I could not bring myself to eat very much so early, and Rabbit brought another cold meal to me to eat before I retired.
I saw Robbie only at mealtimes. He came to the cabin to fetch me for supper each evening; he sat beside me at the table. He was always immersed in the conversation, which was invariably of the farm or the outlaws, and after supper, would go out with the men to smoke on the porch. On the fourth day after our arrival at Barraigh, I took his arm as he would have left the dinner table. "Robbie," I said in a low voice. "Will you come to the cabin with me? I-I wish to speak with you."