Lisbeth continued, “It was all so tasteful. Their hands are so skilled that I did not notice when they replenished our plates, but they must have, for each plate was full at all times. I noted that Mrs. Cunningham does not acknowledge them as they come and go so our conversation was not interrupted in the slightest. Mrs. Cunningham put me entirely at ease. She asked me about my friends, my family, and my favorite styles. She knows ever so much about the latest fashions. We compared the merits of silk and velvet.”
Mary wondered, “Did you get a tour of White Pines?”
“Nearly all of it. It was so dear and clever how they found an excuse for me to see the private rooms of the house. It felt very natural, not forced in the slightest. Emma pretended to break a hair comb, then she asked me to accompany her to get another. Of course, one was not to be found in the first room, so we had to go on a hunt from room to room. We did not go to all of them, there are so many, but we went into quite a few. All the while Emma was speaking to me as if it were the most natural thing for me to be accompanying her through sleeping chambers.
“The house is lovely and has beautiful decor. Mrs. Cunningham has remarkable taste. It is such a lovely balance of traditional and modern. All the beds are new four posters in deep cherry and the spreads are the latest in silk damask. But the washstands are old-fashioned with inlayed wood and marble tops. Each bedchamber has a fine Persian rug. It all appears to be wonderful. Emma even devised a means for showing me the kitchen. She found a dish in one of the rooms and decided to return it to the kitchen. They must have planned the route for days. It was so thoughtful to give me such a complete tour in such a natural fashion.”
Mary beamed. “Oh, Lisbeth, I am so excited for you. You are the most fortunate girl to find such a good husband with such a dear sister and mother. His mother was not distasteful at all?”
“Quite the contrary, I think I shall learn much from her. And Emma and I shall be dear friends,” Lisbeth replied then she quickly amended, “Not dearer friends than you and I, of course.”
Mary smiled at Lisbeth then asked, “Did you see the grounds?”
“We took a walk in the gardens after tea. Casually I suggested we take a turn that would lead us toward the Quarters, but Mrs. Cunningham replied that nothing of interest lay in that direction. Apparently they do not think I need be concerned with the field hands. Since they wanted me to see the rear of the house, I can infer that I will be expected to oversee the house slaves. Eventually, of course, not right away. We have the same arrangement at Fair Oaks, so I am comfortable with it.”
Mary commented, “Lisbeth, only a week ago you wondered if Edward would be a good husband simply because he does not converse about books.”
“Yes, I do feel rather foolish,” Lisbeth agreed. “Thank heaven for you, dear Mary. I can speak such foolishness out loud and see what it is worth. How could I even consider not becoming a Cunningham and the future mistress of White Pines?”
“Hard to imagine you thought Matthew Johnson could possibly be a more suitable husband than Edward Cunningham,” Mary agreed. “Have you heard? He is moving to Ohio to farm. Daniel says he has become an abolitionist.”
“An abolitionist!” Lisbeth burst out. “I declare, I am so tired of hearing that awful word! It is all anyone speaks of these days. I wish we would simply secede and end all this tiresome conversation.”
“Father believes it will mean war.”
“I cannot imagine why. Who cares if we are one country or two? What is there to fight over?”
Chapter 20
Lisbeth woke with a start. She did not remember her dream, but adrenaline rushed through her body from something that had disturbed her in her sleep. She lay in bed for a few moments, steadying her breathing and thinking about this day.
This was the day that would seal her life forever. Today she would be presented as Edward’s intended bride. Twenty years old, and her life was set. Her family was hosting a dinner to celebrate her birthday and their engagement would be announced.
Lisbeth acknowledged Emily, who had arrived with the tea tray. Emily set it upon the table by the divan and returned to her small chamber. Lisbeth rose. She poured herself a cup of the hot beverage, added two teaspoons of sugar and a splash of cream. Taking the cup with her, she went to the window to gaze out as she did every morning. The workers were already in the fields. She could barely see the pen of babies at the end of a row. Sarah, who was only six months older than Lisbeth, had two children being watched over while she hoed. Grandma Washington was long since dead, and Lisbeth no longer tracked who cared for the children of the field hands.
Lisbeth had a year to plan for the most lavish wedding of next spring, but it still seemed too soon. Mother had already given birth to Lisbeth and was pregnant with Jack by the time she was twenty. Lisbeth knew she should feel ready to be married, but she did not.
“Emily,” Lisbeth called out, “ I am going to wear the cream linen dress. Get it ready.”
“Yes, miss,” Emily replied.
Emily pulled out a corset and hoop skirt made from herringbones from the wardrobe. Lisbeth slipped the corset over her head and lay down on the bed. Emily bent over Lisbeth and pulled hard on the strings, bringing the edges of the corset closer and closer until they finally touched. Lisbeth rose, taking a few small breaths to accustom herself to the constriction. With a sigh, she put on cotton bloomers and then stepped into the four-boned hoop skirt. She raised her arms to allow Emily to lower the linen dress over the underskirt.
Lisbeth sat in front of the vanity while Emily slicked down her hair and arrange it in a hairnet.
“Emma will be bringing her maid this afternoon. I believe her name is Margaret. You will spend time with her while she is here. She will start to familiarize you with the routines at White Pines.”
“Yes, miss.”
Lisbeth explained, “We are both fortunate to be moving to such a grand estate.”
“Yes, miss.”
“Do you not agree?” Lisbeth demanded.
“It is not my place to agree or disagree, miss.”
“You do not believe I am making a good marriage?” Lisbeth was outraged.
“Miss, it is not my place to say.”
“Please, Emily,” Lisbeth whined. “I want you to speak the truth to me.”
Emily replied in a steady voice, “You do not seem to be pleased.”
“That is not true!” Lisbeth protested. “I am delighted at this match. This is all I could have dreamed of. White Pines is a beautiful home. Emma is the kindest sister I could have hoped for. Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham have done everything imaginable to extend a welcome into their family.”
Emily ventured carefully, “And young Mr. Cunningham?”
Lisbeth’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean by that question? Edward is a handsome gentleman. His manners are impeccable. I am finished with this conversation. Have you completed my hair?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Then leave me be!” she scolded.
Emily stepped back, but Lisbeth did not rise. She sat in stony silence, staring at her reflection. A fury that she did not understand buzzed through her veins.
“I do not know what is the matter with me!” she declared out loud.
Emily stood by silently. Lisbeth rose and crossed over to the window. She watched the scene before her, hoping it would calm her as it had on many other occasions. But today it did not help. She paced the room, which only served to agitate her further.
“I am sure these are just premarital nerves,” Lisbeth declared. “Mother says everyone has them.”
Emily nodded.
“I believe I need a rest. I will lay down for a few minutes.”
“As you like, miss. Shall we remove your clothing?”
Lisbeth sighed. “No.”
Tears of frustration worked at the edges of Lisbeth’s eyes. She did not have time to undress and redress, so she would not get the rest she hoped for. She sat on the edge of her bed, careful
not to muss her clothing. Without thought, her hand snaked under her pillow to find the comfort of Mattie’s shell. She rubbed it between her fingers until she was relaxed again.
Instead of returning the shell to its hiding spot, she reached up to tie it around her neck. She carefully tucked it under the high neckline of her dress. She examined herself in the mirror over the fireplace. The shell was invisible under the cream-colored fabric, but she could feel its comfort against her heart.
“Emily, is this visible to you?”
“No, miss. No one would think you were wearing it,” Emily replied.
A few hours later Edward proved Emily wrong. The group of celebrants were gathered in the garden. Old women and men perched on chairs around small tables with bouquets of wild flowers. Young men and women sat on blankets, enjoying boisterous conversations. Lisbeth sat on a blanket next to Mary. Mary’s beau, Daniel Bartley, was telling them an amusing story. Lisbeth’s heart caught when she saw Matthew Johnson walking toward her. She smiled across the distance, but before Matthew reached her, Mr. Wainwright asked everyone to gather around. Lisbeth gave a shy shrug to Matthew before standing beside Edward. A horseshoe of people gathered around Lisbeth, Edward, and their parents.
Mr. Wainwright spoke out, “It is with great pleasure that we announce the betrothal of our only daughter, Elizabeth, to Mr. Edward Langston Cunnigham.”
The crowd gave polite applause.
Mr. Cunningham then addressed the gathering, “We are delighted to welcome Elizabeth into our family. As a token of our pleasure we present her with this necklace.”
Edward opened the jewelry box, exhibiting it in a slow arc to the crowd who responded with obvious approval. He then turned it toward Lisbeth. A large, deep blue sapphire hung down the center with smaller sapphires marching up the sides of the necklace. It was too large for her taste, but her eyes shone with the delight she knew he and everyone else expected. Edward stared at her with anticipation.
“Thank you so much. It is lovely,” Lisbeth spoke loud enough for all to hear.
Edward continued to stare expectantly. Finally he jerked his head and motioned in a circle with his finger.
“Oh!” Lisbeth said as she twirled around to present her neck to her fiancé.
As Edward stepped close, Lisbeth became extremely aware of the shell at her heart. She resisted the temptation to touch it. Edward reached around and fastened the shining necklace at her throat. She felt a small tug on the string of the shell. He knew it was there. She turned around and the crowd clapped once again. Lisbeth smiled at them and then at Edward. But he did not return her gaze.
As the crowd broke up Edward hissed in her ear, “What are you wearing around your neck?”
“Oh, this?” asked Lisbeth. Feigning indifference, she fingered the string at her neck. Thinking quickly she made up a story. “I always wear it on my birthday. It is an old gift from a dear friend who moved away.”
Edward hissed quietly, “Well, it is not at all suitable for an event such as this. A string around your neck! Honestly, sometimes I do not know how you get by at all.”
“No one can see it,” Lisbeth countered. “It is entirely private.”
“I know it is there,” Edward insisted.
“Yes, Edward. Of course, I do not know what came over me,” Lisbeth acquiesced. “I can be overly sentimental sometimes. I shall not wear it around you again.”
“Thank you. Now let us greet our guests as betrothed.”
First they circulated to the small tables, making polite conversation and accepting the best wishes of the elders and married adults in their community. When someone asked for a closer look at her jewels, Lisbeth made sure to hold the sapphire out against the palm of a hand so that no one would notice the bump of the shell under her gown.
Eventually the newly engaged couple were able to sit with their friends. After showing off the necklace and discussing wedding arrangements, the conversation turned to their honeymoon.
“I would love to go to Paris,” Lisbeth said. “Or perhaps London. Europe sounds beautiful and intriguing. I would go anywhere in Europe, even Rome!”
“I would be afraid to travel so far!” Mary declared.
“Not I,” Lisbeth replied. “I should love such an adventure.”
“New York City will be adventure enough for me,” declared Edward. “I see no need to leave the shores of this country. I certainly have no need to listen to people speak French or Italian.”
“French is a beautiful language,” Matthew interjected.
“It may be beautiful,” Edward replied, “but I have no need of it!”
“Sounds like you will be going to New York on your honeymoon,” Mary announced.
“I suppose,” Lisbeth nodded.
She discreetly rubbed at the fabric over the shell.
Chapter 21
A year of vigorous planning passed quickly. The ceremony would be held at Mt. Vernon Christian Church at 2 p.m. on May 14, 1858. Four hundred guests were expected to be in attendance at both the ceremony and the reception. After much debate, the families decided to follow tradition and hold the reception at the home of the bride.
Lisbeth’s trousseau was nearly finished, though none of it would ever be used. Her handiwork would be stored away since much finer linens were in use at White Pines. But since protocol required a lady to bring a trousseau to her marriage, hers would be complete. She had two more napkins to finish by May.
Lisbeth arrived at White Pines to celebrate her twenty-first birthday with a tea for her friends and family. Emma greeted Lisbeth with an eager embrace.
“Elizabeth, the seamstress has brought my gown for your wedding! Come see. Mary, you come as well.”
The three young women ascended the stairs to Emma’s bedchamber. With a flourish Emma produced a pale green silk gown. The low neckline, trimmed with deep green ribbon dotted by small pearls, would draw special attention.
“It is beautiful, Emma. You shall outshine me on my own wedding day!”
Mary protested, “No, Lisbeth. Your wedding gown is the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. The sheer layer of silk over the skirt shall set the fashion trend for next year. I wish my mother would allow me to wear something as stylish in my wedding.”
Emma responded, “‘Lisbeth,’ what a silly name. I much prefer you as Elizabeth. It is ever so much more elegant. You need a fashionable name to go with your fashionable dress.”
“You are correct. I shall become entirely Elizabeth starting at the wedding,” Lisbeth nodded. “Mary, you must remember only to call me by Elizabeth once I am married. I shall be Elizabeth Cunningham and no longer Lisbeth Wainwright.”
The tea was characterized by the elegant simplicity Lisbeth had come to expect at White Pines. Naturally the conversation centered around wedding and honeymoon plans. Since Lisbeth’s expressed desire for an extended trip to Europe had been vetoed without any conversation, the newlyweds would be taking the train to New York City for the month of June. Lisbeth looked forward to walks through Central Park and visits to museums. Having never traveled to a city more glamorous than Richmond, she told herself that it would be adventure enough.
Edward’s mother asked her future daughter-in-law, “Elizabeth, dear, would you please go see what is taking Edward so long? I told him to return in time for tea. He is in the back garden, doing heaven knows what.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Cunningham.”
“You shall not be allowed to call me Mrs. Cunningham much longer. I expect to be Mother to you after the wedding.”
Lisbeth beamed. “And I look forward to calling you Mother,” Lisbeth replied as she kissed the elder woman’s smooth cheek before she departed to find her betrothed.
Lisbeth refused Emma and Mary’s offer to accompany her in order to have a few minutes alone with Edward. As she walked through the front garden, she felt overwhelmed with joy and utterly at peace. This wonderful home and this wonderful family would soon be hers. She had no doubt that this was the r
ight choice.
Keeping her promise to Edward, she carried Mattie’s necklace in her pocket and touched the shell as she took in the beautiful grounds. It would be foolish to wear the necklace, but carrying it as a reminder of Mattie on her birthday seemed safe enough.
Lisbeth broadcast a silent message, “Mattie, wherever you are, I hope you are safe and happy. I am. I want you to know I am to have a wonderful marriage. You would be happy for me.”
In the back garden Lisbeth noticed a particularly grand willow tree, larger even than her favorite at Fair Oaks. Long branches reached all the way down to kiss the ground. Straying from her path, she parted the fine branches and was surrounded by cool air, the smell of moist soil, and hazy light. Oh, this place was a treasure, a large, private umbrella. Soon she would be able to come here whenever she wished. Perhaps she would have a bench placed by the trunk so she could read in this protective shelter. This would be her haven. Someday she would bring her own daughter under these branches to take naps, learn to read, and share stories.
She heard the rustle of an animal on the other side of the trunk. Undaunted, she moved forward, counting 1…2…3…4…5… as she walked from the branches to the trunk of the tree.
Walking slowly around the trunk, being careful not to approach the animal too quickly, she came upon Edward. She stared at the sight before her although she could not comprehend it. Her eyes took in the length of his body, his pants around his ankles, his knees slightly bent, his naked buttocks, his thighs covered in thick black hair. His entire body pounded up and down with his head arched back and his eyes closed tight, shutting out the world. He was mounted on a field hand, fiercely thrusting himself into her, so intent on the pleasure of his own movements that he did not notice his fiancée.
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