My Theodosia

by Anya Seton

  Alston flung himself down beside her and stared. His mouth watered and his heart pounded. New and disturbing impulses besieged him.

  He looks, thought Theo impatiently, like a slaughtered sheep, with his pop-eyes and tight curls, and he has lost his tongue as usual.

  'Do tell me more of your life down South, Mr. Alston. Do you have many hunting parties? I have no doubt you are a superb horseman. Have you large stables?'

  He neither moved nor answered. He continued to stare as though she were one of the curiosities in Mr. Beller's South Street Museum.

  She laughed nervously. 'Indeed, Mr. Alston, I asked you a question.'

  Was he further gone in liquor than she had supposed? She edged farther from him. How unpleasantly audible his breathing had become.

  'It's—it's getting chill. I think we had better go in now'. She started to rise, but shrank back petrified as he made a lunge at her.

  Before she could either run or struggle, he grabbed her roughly by the arms. Her head snapped back as his moist mouth closed on hers. Her hand flew out and landed a resounding slap on his ear. He clutched her the tighter, pressing her against the back of the bench until its rim cut sharply across her shoulders.

  Her panic flamed to fury. She beat at his head with all the force of her fists.

  Suddenly his arms dropped, limp as though they were broken. He slumped into the far corner of the bench.

  'How dare you insult me like that—you yokel!' she whispered, shivering with anger and a sense of defilement. 'When I tell my father how you honor his hospitality, he will know what to do. Though I doubt that he will deem you enough of a gentleman to be eligible for the code duello.'

  A muffled sound came from Alston. He buried his face in his hands and his bulky shoulders shook.

  God's mercy! Now the man was crying. Amazement extinguished her rage. This monster who had assaulted her transformed like this into a shamed, blubbering boy.

  She distinguished broken words. 'Miss Burr—can never make amends. I forgot myself. Apologize—I lost my head. You looked so unearthly beautiful.'

  She felt a twinge of exasperated pity. No woman can listen quite unmoved to a man who pleads that her beauty overcame him.

  'Please forgive me, Miss Burr. Your good opinion means more than I dare tell you'. He raised his head, and she saw genuine shame in his face.

  Suddenly she felt a hundred years older than he, and impatiently maternal. 'Very well, Mr. Alston, I will accept your apology. Doubtless the wine was strong, and the moonlight made you over—over-susceptible.'

  'You are an angel,' he said humbly. 'I deserve no forgiveness'. He seized her hand and kissed it clumsily. She had much ado not to snatch it away. His lightest touch was distasteful to her, but she was sorry for him, sensing, as her father had done earlier, that beneath his undisciplined emotions and overbearing manner was the heart of an anxious small boy, unsure of himself.

  She ran up to her room to repair the damages to her costume.

  Two kisses in one day, she thought. Strange that kisses can be so different. The first had been sweet, affectionate almost—and unimportant. She had scarcely thought of it all day While the second—well, that had been thoroughly disagree able, hot, sticky, and dirty as the mud springs at Ballston Spa, yet, once over, it had been unimportant too. Why did romances and people make it appear that kisses were soul-shattering experiences—delights of which one never had enough? Though that happened when one was 'in love'—whatever that was. Loving was easily comprehended: admiration, respect, perhaps a little fear, the way she felt toward Aaron. An immense desire to please him, a sense of unquestioning happiness in his company. But that state of sighings and blushings and dewy-eyed excitement over kisses, phenomena she had observed in several of her friends, why was that so desirable? Or anything but mawkish?

  She forgot all speculation when she returned to the drawingroom. The older people had dispersed to the parlor and tearoom for cards, leaving Sophie du Pont, who did not care for high play, to chaperon the dancers.

  Theo stood up at once with John Vanderlyn, and discovered that he did, indeed, know the new steps from France. He complimented her on her quickness in learning them, and she smiled with pleasure.

  'I must paint you like that, Theo,' he whispered. 'You are youth and grace incarnate.'

  She thanked him absently, engrossed with the pleasure of rhythmical motion.

  She turned quickly away as Joseph Alston stalked into the room and seated himself alone in a corner. She had done her duty—and more—by that gentleman; she would take good care to avoid him in future.

  She could not, however, help noticing that he never took his eyes off her, turning his head so that he might watch her as she passed up and down the floor. When other couples obscured his view, he scowled at them with disconcerting candor.

  'You have made another conquest, I see,' laughed Vanderlyn. 'The haughty young man from South Carolina. I trust you don't reciprocate.'

  'Fudge!' cried Theo, with an inelegance most unusual to her. 'I cannot abide the man. I vow he resembles a sheep. A fat purple sheep'. For she included Alston's plum-colored suit in her annoyance. Had he not offended sufficiently without making her conspicuous as well?

  Vanderlyn laughed. 'Oh, come, you are too hard on him. All men cannot be as slender or as tastefully dressed as your father.'

  Theo shrugged delicately. 'Listen,' she cried. 'There comes that slow measure. Will you show me once more how to do the reverse?'

  Vanderlyn, nothing loath, slipped his arm around her slim waist and they pirouetted gaily down the room.

  When the party dispersed at one, the dancers were disappointed, but the card-players had had enough. The du Pont brothers had won nearly a hundred dollars at loo, and were well pleased.

  Hamilton, under his wife's minatory eye, had filled in at a whist table, outwardly courteous and inwardly seething. His losses were insignificant, yet, even had he won as much as the du Ponts, he would not have enjoyed the evening. He might have wrested a twisted pleasure from playing against Burr; it would at least have kept him from boredom. But Burr never gambled. One of his maddening affectations, Hamilton considered it. A refusal to risk paltry sums of money when he delighted in risking other people's fortunes—more than their fortunes, their ideals.

  Hamilton hurried his wife and daughter's departure, cutting short their polite farewells.

  The others followed in a leisurely manner. There were pretty speeches praising the food, the wine, the music, and felicitating Theodosia again upon her birthday.

  She stood beside her father in the great hallway, and many of the guests were struck by the resemblance between them. The brilliance of their smiles that uncovered identical rows of perfect white teeth, a brilliance that, though it was not entirely spontaneous, yet had a heart-warming quality which sprang from an interest in people and a desire to please them.

  'It has given us the greatest pleasure to have you with us,' said Aaron, kissing Mrs. Jay's hand.

  'Indeed, ma'am, we have been much honored by your company,' said Theo, and her voice, with its caressing breathless quality, sounded as much like her father's as it is possible for the voice of a seventeen-year-old girl to resemble that of a man of forty-four.

  Alexis opened and shut the front door a score of times, until Theo, thinking them all gone, at last turned with a tired and happy sigh to Aaron.

  It was then that she saw with exasperation that Joseph Alston still remained, half-hidden by the shadow of the stairs.

  Aaron also discovered their lingering guest and advanced to him. 'I trust you have enjoyed your evening, Mr. Alston. It was kind of you to come. Perhaps you will place me still further in your debt and join me in a nightcap?'

  Alston shook his head. 'I—I must be going'. But he didn't go, he stared at Theodosia instead.

  Aaron laughed. 'At any rate, sir, we shall see you tomorrow. We shall expect you in the forenoon. My dear'—he placed a warning hand on his daughter's arm—'Mr. Alston is
not comfortable at the Phoenix Tavern, and he has most graciously consented to stay here with us during his sojourn in New York.'

  Theo barely controlled a gasp of dismay, and Aaron's hand increased its pressure. 'That will be—be delightful,' she managed, after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

  When the young man finally took his abrupt, ungraceful leave, she did not raise her eyes or respond to his words except by a vague smile.

  Father and daughter walked past the disordered drawingroom to the library, as was their nightly custom. Natalie had long since retired. Aaron settled himself in his favorite high-backed chair, and Theo curled up on the footstool beside him.

  'Well, puss—did you enjoy yourself? I found the evening most entertaining.'

  She hesitated. 'Yes—it was fun. Especially the dancing. But——Oh, Papa, why do you show to Mr. Alston so much attention? I don't like him, I find him ill-bred and'—she frowned, idly tracing a whorl on the brocade pattern of her stool as she searched for the word—'and monstrous impulsive.'

  Aaron raised quizzical eyebrows, reached for his snuffbox and inhaled delicately. 'Oh?' He waited for her to continue, but she sat silent, her small face troubled.

  He leaned back and crossed his legs. 'Alston is one of the richest young men in the country, and would have great political power in the South if he knew how to use it. What did he do that was so monstrous impulsive?'

  'I promised, in a way, not to tell you, because I knew you'd be very angry, and he was sorry afterward. But it is impossible to have him staying here. I never wish to see him again.'

  He was seized by a rare burst of irritation at her. 'You are being excessively childish, Theodosia. Spare me these maidenly flutterings. You mean, I suppose, that he kissed you, or something like that.'

  She flushed, sharply hurt by his tone and bewildered by annoyance directed at her when she had expected it to be all for Alston.

  'Well, is a kiss anything to make such a pother about?' he Continued, more gently.

  Her mouth quivered. 'Oh, but it was horrid! He forced himself on me, he was like a—a beast.'

  'Like a beast. I see. Men often are; it's most reprehensible. And what did you do?'

  'I hit him as hard as I could until he let me go, and——'

  She swallowed, stared unbelieving at her father's face. He was laughing, and it shocked her as much as though he had thrown the candelabra at her. Her hands flew to her throat, she crumpled into a small sobbing heap.

  She felt a soft touch on her hair, heard Aaron's voice at its sweetest, infinitely tender. 'Poor baby, you're tired. You've lost your sense of proportion, my Theo. You must go to bed now. All shadows seem longer by candlelight. But first listen to me.'

  He put his arm around her, wiped her tears with his own handkerchief. She rested her averted face against his knee.

  He was silent for a moment, considering the best way of dealing with her.

  He loved her. She was the only person that he did love, not even excepting himself. But she must do as he thought best. He was, now more than ever, convinced that an alliance with Alston would be of the greatest advantage. Ready money was imperative. Without something tangible with which to quiet his creditors, bankruptcy was inevitable. Public disgrace and the ruin of his ambitions. Disgrace for Theo, too, torn as he would be by the whole pack of envious ravening wolves. They suspected his financial desperation now, but they had no certainty. There was fortunately a very wide gulf between suspicion and certainty.

  Alston was a heaven-sent answer. Not heaven-sent in the conventional meaning—Aaron had scant interest in a hypothetical paradise—but one of those remarkable opportunities briefly dangled by Fate which may be snatched by the shrewd and converted into great profit.

  Alston had money and political influence, he was manageable, and to cap it all had obviously become enamored of Theo with an even more convenient speed than Aaron had dared anticipate.

  That the child had been shocked or revolted by whatever love-making had occurred was a trifle unfortunate. But on the whole it did not displease him. He did not quite admit it to himself, but he would have opposed any match with a man whom she passionately desired. He had no intention of transferring her devotion from himself to another. Her worship was the sweetest thing in life. Still, with Alston, there would be no danger of that.

  Theodosia's prejudice must be overcome. He did not wish to force her. He considered utter frankness and discarded it. That would be a last resort. Propinquity would do it. The coming weeks with Alston under the same roof. Propinquity, and very subtle pressure.

  Theo, understanding nothing of his thoughts, waited submissively for him to speak, thinking that he had not at first realized the enormity of Mr. Alston's offense and was now reconsidering.

  She was, therefore, taken aback to hear Aaron say lightly: 'I think, my dear, we must forgive Mr. Alston his indiscretion. I am sure that he will not repeat it. You mustn't be a priggish little miss. Men are not angels. I find this young man admirable. You will respect my judgment as you always do.'

  She raised her head, mutely questioning him. She could not read his smiling face, nor did she understand, but she felt a shadow between them, blotting out their closeness.

  Aaron rose abruptly, 'Come, Theo. You look like Lady Macbeth. What is there so tragic in the visit of a pleasant young man? Most young ladies would consider it cause for joy. Anyway, remember that, whatever your inner megrims and vapors may be, I wish you to be extremely nice to him'. She, too, rose from her stool, lifting her round chin in a gesture that had unconscious dignity. 'I trust that I shall never be found wanting in hospitality to your guests.'

  She gave him a quivering little smile and moved slowly up the stairs.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE following morning Joseph Alston swirled up to the front steps with an imposing equipage; his private cabriolet drawn by two perfectly matched bays, followed by a hired coachee crammed with luggage and three slaves: his bodyservant Cato, a cook, and a groom. These were Gullahs ; their skins had a bluish hue; they wore strips of scimitarshaped hair before their ears; and their unusually tall bodies looked picturesque in the Alston livery of red and green. They spoke a dialect unintelligible to the Richmond Hill negroes, who received these foreigners with suspicion and curiosity.

  Aaron greeted Alston at the door, ushered him directly to the library, and rolled the traveling decanters over to him invitingly. The young planter relaxed under the influences of cognac and Aaron's concentrated charm. After the requisite interchange of amenities, Aaron brought the conversation deftly around to Theodosia.

  'She admires you tremendously—thinks you vastly handsome, you know.'

  Joseph's jaw dropped; he spilled some of his cognac. 'I fear you are mistaken, sir; she finds me intolerable. I—she—I'm afraid she has cause.'

  Aaron effaced his smile. 'Cause, sir? What do you mean by cause?'

  Joseph cleared his throat, while a painful red mounted to his close curls. He had not meant to say so much. He was deeply ashamed of his actions in the garden, all the more so as Theodosia now seemed to him a bright and dazzling spirit, infinitely desirable. He had, besides, only a hazy memory of what had actually occurred. He remembered the mood, but not the details.

  Aaron saw that the young man needed a bit of direction and summoned a portentous frown. 'Surely Mr. Joseph Alston of South Carolina has made no overtures to my daughter of which he is ashamed.'

  Joseph shifted uneasily in his seat. His easygoing father had early promulgated a philosophy for rearing boys. 'Let them make their own mistakes, and continually exercise their own judgment; they will learn by experience'. This system had worked very well to date as Joseph had never been thwarted or crossed. At Princeton, when he tired of the university's discipline, he had left at once, and studied law for a few months until he wearied of that, too, and amused himself by traveling. His father had not objected. Indeed, Joseph was totally unused to criticism, even implied, as Colonel Burr's remark had been. It worri
ed and yet impressed him.

  'Well, sir?' Aaron's eyes were fixed on his embarrassed face with an unswerving glitter.

  'I have the greatest respect for Miss Burr, sir. She is the most charming of her sex. I admire her profoundly'. He brought it out at last.

  Aaron withdrew his hypnotic gaze, allowing his lips to part in a slow smile. 'I thought as much, my dear sir. Theodosia has had many suitors. She is very young, as you know, and I would be loath to part with her. Still, I will be frank with you as you have been with me. Your avowal does not displease me.'

  Joseph was thunderstruck. He choked over his brandy, muttering, 'You do me great honor, Colonel'. For Burr's meaning was unmistakable, tantamount to approval of a suit for his daughter's hand. A momentary panic seized Joseph. Surely he had not implied anything as decisive as that. Or had he? It must be that Theodosia had, after all, given her father a full account of that miserable episode in the garden. That would explain it.

  His slow-moving mind considered this startling development and his panic subsided. He found the idea not unpleas-mg. She attracted him strongly. She was delightfully pretty and well educated. A trifle free in her manners, perhaps—witness her peculiar complacence before the lewd pictures; still, that could be checked. Her father was famous and likely to achieve even greater political prominence. Moreover, her fortune was obviously ample. His family would be distressed at his marrying a Yankee, but could have no other objections to the match.

  Aaron watched the other's heavy face clear and permitted himself an inward chuckle. Making up people's minds for them proved ever an amusing occupation. With different mentalities one used differing tactics. In this case he had been quite right to feel that finesse was unnecessary, a waste of time. The ground had been well, though unconsciously, prepared by Theodosia.

  He refilled Joseph's brandy glass. 'A toast to my daughter!'

  Both men rose and drank. Joseph frowned, reverting to a previous thought.