Ella was a handful. She was born on a farm in 1843, but didn't pay much attention to farming, or even to domestic chores that young ladies were prone to do in those days, so as to ensure their future. She was a beauty and a flirt, a terrifc horsewoman, and always had her way. She had long, thick, black hair, black eyes to match, and a contra-alto voice that sent men swimming. Her curves were soft with strong muscle underneath, and she stayed out late most nights. She went to parties and sweated eggs in old haunted houses, then fell too deeply asleep for much too long, and had to tiptoe her horse into the barn, making certain there were no snorts from him nor creeks from the stall door. Her practice of this came in handy many years later when she advised her favorite grandson, Roland, how to sneak in the house after curfew.
She married a very hansome and well-loved man named Robert Wilcutts, of the Kent County Wilcutts. He was sweet and much more of a gentle soul than she, and many wondered why she left the gaity she loved for this kind man.
Perhaps she fell in love with him.
He was a farmer but also worked at odd jobs in the off-season, things like oystering, carpentry, logging and store keeping. They had two baby girls, and named them Laura and Annie, but soon there was so little work that Ella and Robert sent the girls off to live with relatives, who could better afford to raise them.
Soon after, they decided to take in a border to help with their situation, and a young doctor named Blocksom took the room. He was new in town, just setting up a practice, and found himself quite comfortable in the home of the Wilcutts.
He especially enjoyed the excellent care, attention, and affection Ella offered. And of course he never refused her hospitality.
Mrs. Tucker was a neighbor on one side of the Wilcutts and Mrs. Buckson was a neighbor on the other side. Being generally curious about the neighborhood, they habitually peeped in to the windows of their neighbors as necessary, just for the good of all. It was not long before they reported seeing Ella and the Doctor in "situations of closeness" clearly meant for married people.
Oh My.
Baby Robert, named after the man Ella swore was his father, died shortly after he was born. It was common in those days, for infants to die, so no one thought much of it, save to express sorrow.
Except those neighbors, of course.
Suddenly Ella announced to Robert that she needed some time away, and off she went to keep house for a retired widower in Willmington. Coincidentally, the Doctor also had freqent business in town. Robert knew this, and became very depressed, and starting keeping more and more to himself.
One afternoon, Mrs. Buckson and Mrs Tucker were concerned that Robert had been so quiet. No opening or closing of windows, no trips out to the back house, nothing at all. They peeked in the dining room window and saw him collapsed on the floor, chair upturned. The Doctor ordered them all out of the room once he'd arrived and broken down the door, but of course our ladies were excellent peekers, and so they peeked.
Robert had taken some poison whether by fate, intention or accident, but he was still alive. The Doctor leaned over to work on him but the peekers could not tell whether his hands were intending to strangle the man or help him to vomit.
To drown the accusations, the Doctor moved almost immediately to a new town, and married a woman named Sally Fisher.
Ella never married again.
But she was never alone again, either.
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