What's So Civil About This War? ((LoveorLust and wolvenrogue))

Brooke Layne Kensington was the oldest daughter of one of the biggest plantation owners in the heart of Missouri. She had grown up in a house with 3 older brothers and 2 younger sisters. The 17 year old enjoyed her life, the schooling, the parties, the wealth. She was an astute student, always on top of her studies. She loved learning French, hoping one day she'd be able to travel there. She was waiting for her piano teacher to arrive, playing with the youngest of her siblings, 5 year old Marie. The two of them were playing hopscotch as the older woman pulled up in her carriage. "Brooke dear, time for your lesson." Her teacher said and the two of them walked inside.

"You do know your father has asked me to get you ready to perform at the masquerade your mother is throwing, don't you?" Brooke smiled and nodded. "Yes ma'am. I am honored to play." The two women worked together at the piano, Brooke reading the music, playing flawlessly. "Wonderful!" The older woman clapped. "You'll be fine." She said. After the 2 hours were up Brooke escorted her teacher outside. "The party is this Saturday, practice for it!" She said before riding off in her carriage.

Brooke smoothed the full skirt of her yellow dress down and walked into the kitchen. "Miriam, make me a bowl of soup." She said. "Bring it up to my room when you're done. I have to finish my English." Miriam nodded silently, busying herself with cutting up vegetables. Brooke walked up to her room and sat at her vanity, brushing her long auburn hair out, pinning up the curls that fell around her round face. She stared at her reflection, bright blue eyes staring out at her under long lashes, her full pink lips in a slight pout. She couldn't wait until the ball. She was sure to be the prettiest girl there. Hannah was working tirelessly on the gown and her mask. She smiled inwardly and picked up her english homework, starting on her assignment.

General Robert La Fit' was the son of Captain Jean La Fit' and Maria De La Qua. They had grown up, met, married, in the Chardonay district of France. Jean had been put on loan to the Fledgeling United Stated Army during the war of 1812 and when the war had ended, had decided to stay. The general was born to them some 10 years later and now at the age of 45 had a handsome family that include young Jean Paul La Fit, who despite a very French name and fluency in the language, was a thoroughly American lad of 18, Handsome, dashing, trained by his father in military affairs, and the subject of many a debutante's dreams.

He had received an invitation to a costume ball at the Kensington's home who seeing his French name, assumed mistakenly that his family was from New Orleans, and thus southern, which was far from the truth. His father was staunchly unionist, and detested slavery as a vile practice. Seeing the name Kensington, he made an equally mistaken assumption that the Kensington's were English, most of whom apposed slavery, and had encouraged Jean Paul to attend.

Thus was set in motion, a meeting that would prove to change every life that it touched, and could never have been expected to occur. And so it was that Jean Paul dressed as a naval officer of the line appeared at the Kensington home that evening and presented his invitation. The moment after he was announced, he happened to lock eyes with the lovely Brooke, and would scarcely look away all evening.

The night of the masquerade 3 of her slaves helped her get ready for the ball, pining her curls up, curly tendrils hanging by her ears, bangs swept to the side. She was dressin a pale green taffeta dress that had a full skirt, a hand-boned bodice that covered just enough of her breasts to keep it classy. She had a pearl drop necklace that fell between her cleavage, with matching earrings. Her eyes were made up with a pale pink eyeshadow, a clear layer of gloss over her lips. The final touch was her mask, a pale ivory number with crystals and peridot adornments.

She made her way down to the staircase, waiting with her sisters as their parents introduced them one by one. The two younger ones were first and Brooke scanned the crowd. She wondered if anyone her age was attending, besides the dull boys she had met when her parents had smaller engagements. "And finally, our eldest daughter Brooke Layne." The crown clapped and Brooke made her way down the winding marble staircase, courtsying as she reached the landing. She kissed her father and mother and made her way into the crowd, music starting up around her.

She talked with some of the older guests, recalling how her studies were going, what she was planning on doing over the summer. She kept her eyes peeled for someone her age, eyes landing on a well dressed young man. She excused herself and moved towards him. "You forgot your mask." She said, smiling a bit.

Blushing a bit, he retrieved the bright blue mask from his back pocket and put it in place. My apologies Miss Kensington, he said with a deep bow. Allow me to introduce myself, Jean Paul La fit' of Charles county, son of General Robert La Fit' Then breaking into perfect french to fit his French Naval costume, he said. i am very pleased to make your acquaintance you are clearly the most beautiful girl here as anyone with eyes can see. He assumed that she would not understand him and allowed himself considerable latitude as a result. Clicking the heals of his highly polished black boots together, he again bowed. At that moment the music started, and extending a hand to her, he asked this time in English if he might have a dance. His look of hopefulness now obscured by the mask.

She watched as he took the mask out and nodded. "Perfect." She smiled. "Enchanté monsieur." She said and blushed a bit at his words. She responded back "Thank you, and you are the best dressed male here." She took his hand and let him lead her to the dance floor. She placed a hand on his back as they started dancing. She was surprised at how well he danced. "If you don't mind my asking, where did you learn to dance?" She questioned. She moved with across the large marble floor, a small smile on her face.

"You will laugh if tell you" he said as he held out his hand for to pirouette about in a graceful turn. The girl was a picture of grace and beauty, and one could be convinced she were a princess by the way she carried herself. " From my grandmother, she was trained in the royal court of France. She also insisted that I speak only French in her presence" he said. "and may I ask how you come to speak French so well? I am afraid I was a bit undignified with you earlier however I assure you every word I spoke was perfectly true." As the music came to a close, He bowed and thanked her for the dance and then remained by her side and continued their conversation.

Brooke twirled as they danced, seeming as if she were floating across the floor. "Your grandmother. That's wonderful. Is she still with us?" She asked curiously. "And papa only pays the best tutors around." She said. "And it's fine. I appreciate your kind words." She danced with him until the music stopped and she courtsied after they finished. "Would you like to take a walk?" She asked, watching as the adults laughed and chatted over ale and wine. She looked back at Jean Paul, brushing an auburn curl out of her face.

"I'd be delighted Miss Kensington" he said keeping to the formal until granted permission to do otherwise. He offered up his arm and escorted her out into the formal garden along the south lawn of the mansion. It felt like he had a doll on his arm, she was so dainty and delicate where as his body was tall, toned, and strong enough to hold he in one hand. There was something magic about this night. Seeing a bench under a magnolia tree he suggested they sit. The bench overlooked a reflecting pool which shone with moonlight. The night air was still and silent except for the crickets, and a solitary bullfrog. No, my grandmother has passed, bless her soul, and I miss her. He wanted to explain that he and his mother didn't get along and so his grandmother was more mother to him, but he thought better of it. Instead he asked " are your grandparents still with the living?"

She took his arm and walked along with him. As the made their way through the sculpted gardens she ran a hand along the shrubs. "They do a wonderful job, don't they?" She asked as they walked to the bench. She sat next to him and looked out at the water. "My grandfather passed last year, but my grandmother on my father's side is still with us. She should be inside if you'd like to meet her later." She said. She sighed a bit. "My mother's parents still live in Virginia. My mother and father moved here after my brother Gabe was born. My father had a dream to own his own plantation, so with a small gift from my mother's parents he was able to invest and start what you see here today. I was born here, 3 years after it was built." She looked at him. "Do you have any siblings?" She asked curiously.

“I do not” he said “with my father in the military, having a family was difficult, and after me, my mother decided that I was enough, or so I'm told. Since I turned thirteen, I have lived at the fort with my father, and been trained for the military. My father is seeking an appointment for me to Westpoint. It will be some time before I find out if I am to be accepted.” He took her hand in his and was impressed at just how small and dainty it was compared to his. Her skin was porcelain white compared to his well tanned glow. To him she seemed almost like a character in a fairy tale, perhaps a fairy herself, such was her beauty. He lifted the tiny hand to his lips and kissed it gently. She was certainly someone to be protected and adored.

Brooke listened to him speak and nodded. "Westpoint. Seems like you have big plans." She mused. She smiled slightly as he kissed her hand. He was well built, strong. She found him quite attractive. Her ivory skin shimmered slightly in the moon light. She turned to face him. "So, how many slaves does your family own?" She asked. To her it was everyday life. There was nothing wrong with it to her, having grown up with slaves around since she was born. Honestly, she couldn't imagine life without them, they were a part of normalcy around here. Besides, it wasn't like her father was cruel to them. He fed them well, and they had their own living quarters. Brooke let her fingers dance lightly against the palm of his hand as they talked.

Jean Paul answered matter of factly, “we have none. Our household staff are free and they are paid. Does your family keep slaves? Can't they afford to pay them?” Though he was aware that there were many slaveholders in northeastern Missouri, he had never had occasion to speak with one. He was, as much as anything, curious about how they could accept such an institution. “Don't you think they would be happier as free men? They are God's creation same as you and I you know.”

Brooke was a bit taken aback, every family her parents associated with were slaveholders. It was the norm. She never really thought about it. "They are paid." She said pointedly. "We pay for their food, their housing, their medical needs. If they were "free" as you say, they wouldn't be able to afford half of that." She wasn't trying to be mean, she just didn't understand. Maybe she was sheltered to the fact that not all slaves were as well taken care of as her families, but to her it seemed like an acceptable idea. She bit her lip gently, thinking. Never before had her or her families beliefs been questioned. "My father assumed you were slaveholders because of your last name." She said softly. She chuckled a bit. "I've never met anyone who wasn't."

“Let me ask you a question? Can your slaves leave if they want? Have you ever asked them if they would if they could? What about their food, do they get to choose what they eat? I'm sure your family treats them well. I treat my dog well too, but my dog isn't free, and he isn't a man.” You see our family has thought about these things and chosen not to own slaves. I'm sure your a decent person and if you think about it like we have, you would come to the same conclusion, but that of course is up to you. Do you think less of me because my family doesn't own slaves?

Brooke listened to his questions and sighed. "No, they can't leave. And maybe the would, but as I said they have it better than most free black men." She shook her head. "No, I don't think any less of you, but I have a feeling you may think less of me." She looked out over the water, silent. The fact he was questioning why her family owned slaves made her not sure what to say. She looked back at him and took the mask off, her bright eyes looking over the young man next to her. "Maybe we're wrong, maybe we're right, but either way it's not like I can do anything about it. I'm not influential, and most of our slaves have been working for our family since I was born." She sighed and folded her hands on her lap. "Do you want to go back inside?" She asked, not sure if he'd want to interact with her anymore.

He gently lifted her hand again to his lips and kissed it. “heavens no!” he said. “I am enjoying your company very much. Even if we never agree on slaves, that won't change. Something else my Grandmother taught me, Ideas aren't good or bad, they are just ideas. Its what men do with them that make them good or bad. You are a lovely young woman, I would only ask that you consider for yourself what is right to do. So that when you are of age, and can act for yourself you will do right. That and that you give me the same consideration. Your parents opinion on such matters in no way effect my opinion of you.” Lets leave this for another day. In the meantime, I would love to spend time with you. Its a beautiful evening. He smiled at her as he held her hand.

"Oh wonderful. I thought maybe..." she trailed off and shook her head. "Never mind." She smiled at him and looked towards her home. There were many people there and he was probably the only non slave holder here. She chuckled inwardly. If her father knew it would have been.. She heard the band play again and she stood up slowly, out reaching her hand. "Let's go for a walk. I want to show you something." She said and blew a strand of hair out of her face.

Jean Paul was relieved that she was willing to forgo the controversy for a time in order to know him better. At her suggestion, he rose and offered her his hand to help her to her feet, only then carefully placing her arm in his. "Where are we going, my dear?" He asked her, addressing her in a much more familiar tone, and trying to gauge whether she found it pleasing or not. Despite the relatively modest life that he had held compared Brooke, he had been well schooled as a gentleman, and was in no sense unaccustomed with how to treat a lady. Whatever he thought of her family's politics, he was enthralled with her and definitely wanted the opportunity of being with her. As they promenaded through the Garden at her leading, he loved the feeling of such beautiful and charming creature on his arm, and resolved for himself that if possible, she would find her home there.

Brooke took his hand and stood up with him. She smiled when he asked where they we're going. "It's a surprise." She said and lauged lightly. She walked with him through the well manicured lawns. Soon they arrived at the foot of a large forest. "Come on." She followed the trail a little ways until the came to a small clearing. There was a small pond with a fountain in the center of a clearing, and a large garden on the far end of it. "I love coming out here at night. It's so peaceful." She walked towards the garden and smiled. "This is my garden. Unbeknownst to my father. He'd be mad if he knew I was doing the gardening instead of our slaves. I secretly steal bulbs and seeds and planted them out here." The sweet scent of tulips, dahlias, and roses filled the air. "It may not be as pretty as the main gardens but I love it." She said.

"On the contrary, I think it is very beautiful. It is a place based on love, and that has a beauty that cant be matched with effort. It is particularly beautiful in the moon light." As they stood together in the middle of the garden, a few feet from the fountain, he pulled her into his arms. He looked deep into her eyes which were reflecting the moonlight. "I don't believe I have ever met anyone so beautiful, or anyone capable of creating such beauty." he said softly to her. His head tilted slightly to the side and his lips parted slightly. He ached to kiss her but he paused, waiting to see if she would respond. The more he was with her more he was falling in love with this creature of beauty which he barely knew.

She smiled and blushed as he told her it was very beautiful. "Thank you." she said. As he pulled her into her arms her blush deepened. She looked back into his eyes. "I've never quite met a man as charming as you. Most gentlemen who vie for my attention are daft." she smiled at him as she watched him part his lips. His lips looked so soft, so inviting. She moved closer to him and let her lips fall upon his, kissing him gently. She was falling for him, that much she knew, but her parents would be livid if they found out she liked a non slave holder. She deepened the kiss, loving the feel of his soft lips against hers.

As she returned his invitation and their lips met, it was as if lightning had struck him. Sparks flew. He returned her kiss with a second, or really an extension of the first as they passionately played at one another's lips. He sank to the bench along the fountain's edge pulling her into his lap. He continued kissing her lips and her neck behind her ear. He loved the feel of her soft curls on his neck and cuddled her close completely enamored of the warm and softness of her as she seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. "We need to come here more often." he said then he began to softly sing to her making the song up as he went, in his rich baritone voice. "To the bell of my desire, in my heart she builds a fire, I see moonbeams in her eyes, Her skin glows like fire flies, of her beauty I will sing, and someday she'll wear my ring. To the bell of my desire ......"

She smiled into the kiss, lips pressing against him. She shivered as his lips found the way to her neck, blushing as he pulled her into his lap. She listened to his song and she felt her heart melt, loving the sound of his voice and the words of his song. She nodded and smiled. "Yes, we must." she said. She closed her eyes and moved her lips to his again, kissing softly. She then heard voices calling her name. "Brooke!" the distant voices called. "Oh curses! I forgot I was supposed to play the piano tonight. Come, we must hurry back. Don't get caught until we're well out of the forest, no one knows about this place." she said, grabbing his hand and making her way down the path.

Realizing that this was a time for speed, and that in her long fluffy gown, that would not happen, he scooped her up into his arms and ran out of the clearing and back down the path to the edge of the main garden. Stealing a moment, he kissed her passionately again before returning he to her feet and placing he arm respectfully back on his own. A few seconds later one of the household slaves approached them. "Pardon me Miss Brooke but your Daddy wants you to play the piano for the guests" Jean Paul picked up the pace, lead by the slave, and entered the main hall again. Jean Paul walked her to her father and bowing, took her hand and handed her back to him with a respectful smile.

She laughed lightly when he scooped her up, kissing him back when he kissed her. When the were back towards the garden she nodded towards their slave. "Thank you Dina." she said and walked into the main hall. As Jean Paul handed her back to her father she smiled up at him, a small scowl on his face. She inhaled softly and walked up onto the elevated floor the held the Grand Piano. She smoothed her gown and sat on the bench, pulling out the sheet music of Vivaldi's "Spring" before she began to play, the notes carrying out through the hall. She smiled out at Jean Paul and then at the rest of the crowd, playing perfectly. Soon the piece was completed and she stood up and courtsied, the crowd applauding.