Glorious Angel

by Johanna Lindsey

  “Don’t you come no closer, Billy!” Her voice rose to a high pitch. She stared straight into his angry eyes. “I’m gonna tell you honest that I’ll shoot you without battin‘ an eye. I’m sick’n tired of you boys thinkin’ you can have me just for the askin‘. Hell, most of you don’t even ask—you just grab. I’ve had it, do you hear? I ain’t got the strength for no more fightin’. But this here rifle’s got strength. It’s got the strength to blow your conceited head off. So you better get before that’s just what happens!”

  He backed away, the fury in her voice warning him that she meant what she said. Damn!

  “I’ll have you yet, Angela, just remember that!” he called as he climbed back in the carriage, his mouth set in a tight line. “You’re dealin‘ with a man now, not a boy!”

  She laughed. “I ain’t never shot no man, but I reckon there’s a first time for everythin‘. Don’t come back, Billy, or you’ll be the first.”

  “I’ll be back,” he promised. “And I’ll be the first, only not the way you mean. I will have you, Angela Sherrington, I promise you that.”

  Billy Anderson drove away recklessly, taking his fury out on the two hapless gray mares.

  Chapter 3

  ANGELA slammed the door with a bang and threw the bolt, then collapsed against it, her heart pounding painfully. Icy rage gripped her, as it did every time she was confronted by boys like Billy. What did they think she was, a whore? Of course they did. Why else were they forever grabbing her?

  Angela sighed impatiently. She realized she had no one to blame but herself. She used to enjoy whipping any boy who dared to tease her. And that was all they used to do— just tease. It had been a show of strength then. But now it was getting harder and harder to win those fights. The same boys she used to send away with bloodied noses were now almost men.

  Angela had always felt awkward around girls, having been raised without a woman. She had run with boys instead, until their constant teasing became unbearable. Soon, girls her own age would have nothing to do with her. And colored girls shied away from her because she was white. The only friend she had was Hannah, kindhearted Hannah.

  A knock made Angela start and she clutched the rifle tightly. Had Billy come back already?

  “It’s me, child. That boy done gone.”

  Hearing Hannah’s voice, Angela threw the door open eagerly and stomped out on the porch.

  “That sorry son ov a pig had the nerve to—”

  “I knows, Missy. I knows.” Hannah soothed, startled by Angela’s fury. “That boy passed me on the road and I seen him turnin‘ to come here, so’s I snuck ’round the trees and was hidin‘ behind the house, waitin’ to see iffen you’d need help. O Lordy, Master Maitland sure ain’t gonna like this, he sure ain’t,” Hannah mumbled to herself.

  “What?”

  “Nothin‘, Missy, nothin’,” Hannah said quickly. She put her arm around Angela and urged her to sit on the porch steps. “I guess you’s just growin‘ up. Yessum, you sure is.”

  Angela wondered briefly why Hannah would mention Jacob Maitland, but Angela wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly, so she let it pass.

  Angela had first met Hannah on the day, five years before, when the older woman had emerged from the forest of cedars between Golden Oaks and the Sherringtons’ little farm, saying she was lost and close to fainting from the heat. Angela insisted she come inside and rest. Later, Angela showed Hannah the way back to Golden Oaks.

  Angela just couldn’t understand how a servant from Golden Oaks could have gotten lost. All she had to do was go down to the river and follow it. The plantation was only a little ways back from the rolling Mobile River, and clearly visible from the river’s edge. Or else she could have gone along the river road until she came to the long lane of giant live oaks that led to the mansion where the Maitlands lived.

  To Angela’s surprise, Hannah returned a week after that with a sack of flour and a basket of eggs. She said they were payment for Angela’s having saved her life. And no matter how Angela protested, Hannah insisted she had a debt to repay. William Sherrington thought the whole thing was funny, and he saw no reason not to accept the goods. Food was food, and the Sherringtons never had too much of it.

  “The gal thinks she has a debt to repay, so who are we to say no?” William had laughed. “It ain’t as if we was takin‘ charity.”

  Hannah came once a month after that, always bringing something with her. First it was food, but since the war had started, she brought pins, salt, matches, and fabric. Most poor people were now doing without those things.

  Everything Hannah brought she stole from the Maitland household, swearing to the good Lord that the goods would never be missed. Each month, Angela made her promise not to steal any more, but Hannah continued to break her promise every month.

  Angela had a special affection for Hannah, her only woman acquaintance. It didn’t matter that the color of their skin was different. They were just two women, a young girl and a plump woman three times as old who just sat and talked.

  Charissa Sherrington had run off a year after Angela was born. Her mother had tried to take her with her, but her father had found them and brought Angela back, perhaps hoping to force Charissa to return. But she hadn’t.

  Angela sometimes wondered what it would have been like if her father had not found them. And she often wondered where her mother was now. Her father had raised her by himself, which accounted for her unfeminine habits.

  So Angela confided to Hannah most of the girlish things she might have told a mother, things she wouldn’t dream of speaking to her father about. And one of those things was that she fancied herself in love with Bradford Maitland. But of course, that had been last year, before Hannah told her the terrible truth about Jacob Maitland’s oldest son.

  “That boy, he the only one to bother you?” Hannah was asking her now.

  “Billy’s the only one who’s ever come here, but he ain’t the only one who’s insulted me.”

  The whites of Hannah’s eyes grew rounder. “What you mean, child?”

  Angela had always been too embarrassed to mention to Hannah about the scraps she got into with boys. But after the shock today, embarrassment didn’t matter.

  “I’ve been defendin‘ myself for a long time now against them young jackasses who want to grab me all the time.”

  “Lordy, Miss Angela!” Hannah cried. “Why ain’t you told me ‘bout this sooner?”

  “It only happens when I go to the city. And so far I can still take care of myself. But I ain’t gonna do no fightin‘ no more. I’m gonna use this!” Angela said hotly, holding up her father’s rifle.

  “Who them boys been botherin‘ you?”

  “Just boys I’ve known since as far back as I can remember.”

  “But their names?” Hannah persisted.

  Angela’s brow creased in thought. “Judd Holt and Sammy Sumpter,” she said, then added, “and the Wilcox brothers and Bobo Deleron too. Those are the ones I’ve been obliged to whip occasionally.”

  Hannah shook her head. “And that one come here today? What’s his name, Missy?”

  “Billy Anderson. But why’re you askin‘ me about all this?” Angela questioned, her temper ebbing now.

  “Just wonderin‘,” Hannah said evasively. “Where’s your pa? Why weren’t he out here runnin’ that Billy Anderson off?”

  “He stayed in the city last night and hasn’t been home since.”

  “You mean he left you all alone?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “O‘ Lordy!” Hannah exclaimed and hoisted herself to her feet. “I gots to go!”

  “Wait, Hannah! Did you by chance bring any matches?” Angela called after her.

  “Yessum, they’s in the basket on the porch,” Hannah replied, already hurrying back to Golden Oaks.

  Angela shook her head. What had got into Hannah? She seemed more upset about Billy’s coming here than Angela was.

  Billy Anderson tore into the gray mares w
ith his short whip, taking his anger out on them all the way back to Mobile. He would never forgive Angela for making a fool of him. He couldn’t remember ever being this enraged before, except maybe last year when his father had locked him in his room to keep him from volunteering, and him seventeen years old then and wanting more than anything to get in on the fighting and be a hero.

  This was even worse. Angela had made him look like a coward. If she so much as breathed a word about running him off at riflepoint, he’d kill her. He should have taken that rifle away from her and given her a good thrashing. Then he could have thrown her down and gotten what he came for.

  In his reckless race away from the scene of his humiliation, Billy almost careened into a passing carriage. He cursed aloud, then flushed when he saw who was in the carriage. Crystal Lonsdale and Candise Taylor barely glanced at him as they went by. Seeing them brought back the morning clearly.

  Now Angela was probably laughing at him, just like that Crystal. But she wouldn’t be for long. He’d have Angela yet. She’d never make a fool of him again.

  Chapter 4

  HANNAH went the full mile back to Golden Oaks, almost running. She didn’t bother with the back entrance, but walked right through the front door and made straight for the master’s study. Lord, but Master Jacob was going to raise the roof.

  Hannah could hear Candise Taylor and Crystal Lonsdale playing backgammon in the drawing room. Candise and her father had been honored guests at Golden Oaks for two weeks now, but they would soon be going back to England. Crystal Lonsdale had been a regular visitor to Golden Oaks for quite a few years now, and her brother Robert even longer. Robert had joined the Alabama troops along with Zachary, Jacob’s younger son, when the war first broke out. Under Braxton Bragg, they defended the coast between Pensacola and Mobile. Robert had stayed to guard Mobile Bay, but Zachary had gone with Bragg when he took command of the Army of Tennessee. Lord, protect them, Hannah thought, as she had so many times.

  Hannah knocked softly on the study door and entered when Jacob Maitland bid her. She stood before the desk where Jacob was poring through the ledger, as he did every afternoon. He hadn’t looked up yet to see who had come into the room, so Hannah stood patiently.

  She knew Jacob was going to be upset and that was bad. He had had a mild stroke a few years before and was supposed to take it easy. He left most of his business interests to others now.

  Hannah would die if anything happened to Jacob Maitland. She remembered all too well what life had been like before he came to Golden Oaks, buying the land and mansion as well as all the slaves. Those had been days of constant fear, fear of having family members sold away, fear of the whip.

  Now the slaves no longer felt like slaves, and it was all Jacob Maitland’s doing. Hannah knew there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for Jacob Maitland. He had given her new life, self-respect. Most important, he had given back her firstborn, her son taken from her and sold eighteen years ago, when he was four. Jacob found the boy and brought him back to Hannah.

  She knew where Jacob’s convictions lay, that he would have set all his people free if it weren’t necessary to give the impression of conforming to southern standards in order to live here. But, in this war, he actually supported the North.

  Of course, Jacob was unaware that Hannah knew all these things and more. Only she and her family knew, for her husband, Luke, was Jacob’s manservant, and overheard Jacob talking in his sleep. But her family guarded those secrets. Hannah had once slipped and revealed a fact to Angela that no one was supposed to know. But Angela was a good girl. She knew the tragedies that would result if she told anyone the secret. Hannah was certain Angela wouldn’t.

  Jacob still hadn’t looked up from his ledgers, but Hannah stood patiently, her brown eyes resting on him fondly as she waited. He was a fine-looking man of forty-eight, with only a slight shading of gray at his temples. The rest of his hair was still so black it sometimes looked blue. But his eyes! Lord, that man had scary eyes. If the devil ever came up and showed himself, Hannah was sure he would have eyes just like Jacob Maitland’s. They were a light golden-brown, except when he was angry. And for all his goodness, this man sure had a temper. And when that temper rose, those eyes would change to pure gold-yellow flames, ready to burn into whomever they lit on.

  Of Jacob Maitland’s two children, only Bradford looked exactly like his father. Zachary was the same height as his older brother and his father, just an inch under six feet, but Zachary took his mother’s eyes and temperament. He was certainly not as adventurous as his brother.

  Jacob Maitland looked up now and frowned slightly. “What are you doing back so soon? She was at home, wasn’t she?”

  Hannah always liked to listen to Jacob Maitland talk. He had such a fine, precise way of speaking. She’d tried to copy his way of talking years ago, but her family made such fun of her that she gave it up.

  “Yessuh, she’s home.”

  “Well then, how is she? Is she still making you promise not to steal from me?” Jacob chuckled.

  “I left ‘fore she had a chance to,” Hannah said, still squeezing her hands nervously.

  “Is something wrong, Hannah?” Jacob questioned, his eyes narrowing. “Out with it.”

  “Maybe we should go out to the stables, Master Jacob, ‘cause I gots this feelin’ you’s gonna be raisin‘ your voice, and the young ladies is back from the city and in the drawin’ room. They’s gonna hear you.”

  “Out with it!”

  Hannah took a deep breath and shivered slightly, seeing those gold-brown eyes already lighting up with flame.

  “Missy Angela almost got herself raped this mornin‘,”

  Hannah blurted out, her eyes wide, waiting for the storm to break.

  “She what?” he demanded, jumping instantly to his feet. “How could that happen with her father there?”

  “He weren’t there.”

  “Was—was Angela hurt?”

  “Oh, no, sir. She held that young buck off with her rifle. But he was sure wantin‘ her. He done threatened he’d get her yet. But she weren’t scared none, only madder than a wet hen.”

  “What kind of boy would try to rape a child?” Jacob asked as he sat down wearily in his chair again. “I don’t understand it.”

  “I tried to tell you she done started to grow,” Hannah reminded him reproachfully.

  “She’s still only fourteen years old. Hell, she’s still just a baby.”

  Hannah didn’t remind him that “babies” Angela’s age get married and have babies of their own. “You ain’t seen her ever since you and her pa had that bad fight. The little Missy is turnin‘ out right pretty.”

  Jacob didn’t seem to hear her. “What’s this boy’s name? By God, he’s going to wish he were dead!”

  “Billy Anderson.”

  “You mean Sam Anderson’s son?” Jacob looked astonished.

  “Yessuh.”

  “Have there been any others who have tried to bother Angela?” Jacob asked.

  “Yessuh. And that worries me no end, ‘cause that poor little Missy’s been havin’ to spend nights all by herself out there.”

  “Why?”

  Hannah lowered her eyes and spoke in a whisper. “Her papa’s been leavin‘ her all alone while he spends the night in Mobile. At least that’s what he did last night.”

  “That son of a bitch!” Jacob came to his feet again, this time toppling his chair to the floor. There was a raging fire in the depth of his eyes. “Tell Zeke to take my horse and go to the city. He is to bring back Sam Anderson and William Sherrington. And tell him to ride like the devil is on his tail! You got that, Hannah?”

  “Yessuh.” She smiled for the first time.

  “Well, get going! And then come back here and tell me the rest of it.”

  It was nearly dusk when William Sherrington barged into Jacob’s study unannounced. His clothes were dirt-stained and wrinkled, with a few patches on his baggy pants. His bright red hair was parted in the mi
ddle, and plastered to his head with a foul-smelling oil. The whites of his eyes were veined with streaks of red as bright as his hair. He had a crumpled old hat in one hand, which he pointed at Jacob.

  “Just what the hell you think you’re doin‘ sendin’ your nigger to fetch me?” William Sherrington stormed. “I warned you five years ago that I’d—”

  “Shut up, Sherrington, and sit down!” Jacob growled. “Five years ago you blackmailed me, threatened to go to my sons and tell them about Charissa and me if I didn’t leave you to raise Angela to your liking. I backed down men, fool that I was, but Angela wasn’t in danger at that time.”

  “What danger?”

  Jacob rose from his chair, his face a thunderous mask. “Do you think you can just leave her unchaperoned and go off on your drunken binges and that nothing will happen? I should have sent the law after you, not Zeke!”

  William Sherrington paled under his sunburned skin. “What happened?”

  “Nothing—this time, no thanks to you. But Angela was nearly raped by that young pup Billy Anderson. Raped, by God! It’s the last straw, Sherrington. Before—you threatened. Now—I promise. If you ever leave that girl alone again, you’ll find yourself rotting in a Union prison. And don’t think I can’t arrange it.”

  “Now see here—”

  Jacob raised his brow and William fell silent. “Are you going to tell me I’m wrong? That you haven’t left Angela alone to fend for herself?”

  William Sherrington stared down at his feet uncomfortably. “Well, maybe I been a bit lax, but the girl can take care of herself.”

  “My God, she’s only fourteen! She shouldn’t have to take care of herself! You’re unfit to raise her and you know it as well as I!”

  “You ain’t takin‘ her away from me. I need—I want her with me. She’s all I got since her ma ran off like she did,” William said in a pathetic voice.

  “I offered to send her to school. The offer is still open. It would be the best place for her,” Jacob said, although he knew his offer would be refused.