Tender Betrayal

by Rosanne Bittner

  He could almost hear his mother playing, and he could see Audra standing there, hear her singing. He remembered the parlor being warm and bright, with doors open to a summer breeze, vases of flowers perched on every possible flat surface.

  He walked over and sat down on the piano bench, opening the cover and touching the keys. He played a couple of them, then shuddered with such overwhelming grief that he had to stop and put his head down for a moment and vent his feelings. He wept for several seconds before suddenly feeling a strange warmth move across his back. It was so warm, in fact, that it startled him. He sat up straight and looked around, almost expecting to see a sudden shaft of sunlight, perhaps, or to see that someone had come along and put a blanket over his back. May had been cold this year in Connecticut, and the house itself was still quite chilly.

  He saw nothing unusual. There it came again, like a warm rush of air, this time over his face. He could swear he heard his name whispered. Again he looked around to see nothing unusual. He stood up, taking a handkerchief and wiping at his eyes, then moving away from the piano bench. He stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded over what he had just experienced.

  Mother? He felt a strong presence, as well as a calming peace. The house remained quiet, but he felt a secret joy to think that perhaps Anna Jeffreys lived on here, that she still sometimes sat at that piano bench, and she was welcoming him again, as she had that day last year. He shivered as he closed the piano, still shaken by what had just happened, but glad he had come. He needed this time with his grief and his memories, and now it was easier to believe that his mother and her music lived on…somewhere.

  He left the parlor, walked to the stairs, and looked up. Did he dare go back to that bedroom? Was there anything there that would help him know what to do about Audra? He was hoping he would find some kind of clue here as to whether he should try to see her once more.

  He climbed the stairs and headed into the room where he had spent one glorious night with Audra Brennan. He stared at the neatly made bed, touched the bedpost. It was so easy to remember it all, the taste of her, the feel of her, the ecstasy of being inside her. Was there any explaining love? Why was it Audra for whom his heart yearned? Why did it have to be someone so forbidden, so impossible?

  He felt an uncontrollable urge then to try to find something she might have left behind, something that was only Audra. He searched through the dressing table, hoping for perhaps a hairpin, an earring. Nothing. What in God’s name was this sudden panic he felt? He tore through dresser drawers, realizing that if anyone saw him, they would think him perfectly mad. Still nothing.

  He moved to the desk and ripped open the right top drawer, then hesitated when he saw some papers lying in it. His hand actually shook as he took them from the drawer, and he decided he must be working too hard, for he had surely lost control of his faculties. It was a good thing he was taking a couple of months off again.

  He unfolded the papers to see that something was written on them. He walked to a window, drawing back the curtains so he could see better.

  Lee, my love,

  Just as the sun shines

  And the ocean wind blows wet and wild,

  I love you as a woman loves,

  But you see me as a child.

  “My God,” he whispered. She had written a song for him!

  Lee, my love,

  When I am with you

  I never want the days to end.

  I love you more than life itself,

  Yet to you I’m just a friend.

  Lee, my love,

  You stand before me

  Tall and strong, your eyes so blue,

  I long to feel your arms around me,

  To hear the words, I love you.

  He went on to read the last verse. On the two other sheets of paper she had written musical notes. Apparently she had even been composing a melody for the words. Was this a sign he truly should go to Louisiana and find her? He read the song again, and he felt as though Audra had just walked through the door and was speaking the words aloud to him.

  “Audra,” he whispered softly. Had she simply forgotten to take the song, or maybe left it here because she was angry with him…or had she meant for him to find it? She had never had the chance to show it to him, sing it for him. She probably felt there was no reason.

  Should he throw it away? Burn it? Send it back to her? No. She would be embarrassed if he sent it to her, or maybe her father would see it and be angry. He certainly could not bring himself to destroy it. For now, somehow, it soothed him to read it. Maybe God meant for her to leave it by accident, so that he could find it in this time when he needed to hear the words, needed an answer to his dilemma of going to see her once more.

  He folded the papers and shoved them into his breast pocket, then headed downstairs. He had already visited his mother’s grave, and he did not intend to spend the night here. He had visited with old Tom. If he was going to get all the way to Louisiana and find out what lay ahead for him and Audra, there was no time to waste. It would be a long trip. He walked outside and locked the door, then turned up the collar of his overcoat against a cold spring wind.

  He hurried to his rented carriage and untied the horse, then climbed into the seat. Maybe it was the craziest thing he had ever done in his life, but he was going to Louisiana and make sure he hadn’t thrown away his only chance at real happiness. He felt light, free, alive. Coming here was the best idea he had had in a long time, and what he had found was like God giving him his answer.

  He started to back the horse when he stopped for a moment, sure he heard the distant sound of a piano. He looked at the house, but only the sound of a spring breeze in the budding maples met his ears. “You’re losing your mind, Lee,” he muttered. He backed the horse and turned the animal, heading down the curved brick drive. If things went right, he could be in Baton Rouge by the end of May. He figured anyone there could direct him to Brennan Manor.

  12

  Audra gladly allowed Richard to keep an arm around her and help her up the stairs to the luxurious suite he had rented for their wedding night. She had deliberately drunk a little too much wine at the grand ball Aunt Janine had held in Baton Rouge for her and Richard after their wedding. She wanted to feel light-headed and gay, or was it that she didn’t want to feel anything at all? Somehow she had to get through this first night with her new husband.

  Grand, grand, everything had been grand, from her near-royal wedding to the ride in a white carriage pulled by a white horse, showing off the newlyweds to the general public of Baton Rouge.

  She laughed, stumbled slightly. Richard chuckled and held her up. They were at the top of the stairs now. Yes, it had been grand! Aunt Janine’s home was one of the biggest in Baton Rouge. She and Audra’s own mother came from a wealthy plantation family in Mississippi, so both women had known the good life already before Audra’s mother married into Brennan Manor, and Aunt Janine married Uncle John, who owned a bank in Baton Rouge. The house had a grand ballroom that was bigger than any other house in town. Audra had danced there with her new husband, watching his dark eyes, wishing they were blue. There would be another celebration at Cypress Hollow when Audra and Richard returned home, then another at Brennan Manor. Parties, balls, dancing, laughter. She had followed Miss Geresy’s rules about how to conduct herself properly as the new first lady of both Cypress Hollow and Brennan Manor. Now the task would be fully hers…Forever. Richard had already dismissed Miss Geresy, adamant that his new bride was ready for the task. The woman had been at her wedding, and that was the last Audra would see of her. Richard Potter had spoken, and that was that.

  Richard was opening the door now. She didn’t even know what hotel this was. He was picking her up in his strong arms, carrying her through the doorway. Oh, what a wonderful day it had been! There would surely be a full page written up in the local paper, maybe even in papers in other parts of the country, about the wedding that had taken place today. After all, the wealthy Miss Audra Brennan ha
d wed the even wealthier Mr. Richard Potter, and together they were Louisiana’s most envied couple, rich, handsome, beautiful. Louisiana’s princess had become Louisiana’s queen, and with the combined plantations, Richard was surely a king.

  Now her new husband was removing her veil and hat. He was telling her something, but his voice seemed distant, and she didn’t want to concentrate, not on the voice or his touch. She would think about something else, that’s what. She had to keep her mind occupied, because now Richard was unbuttoning the back of her wedding gown, saying something teasing about why women used so many buttons.

  Think, Audra, she told herself. Keep your mind active. Politics. She was so tired of the subject, yet now she was beginning to understand the importance of elections and such. The wedding had come at a good time, because it made people forget about the troubles the South was facing, and the fact that the Democratic convention in Charleston had been a disaster. The proslavery platform was rejected, and the delegates from eight southern states had left. Richard had been among them. The convention was adjourned because no one could agree on a candidate. It was not a good situation for the South, which needed to be united.

  United. Somehow it seemed that her marriage to Richard should help unite the South. Richard had power now, enough, perhaps, to talk to the right people and get something settled so that the southern states could get a proslavery candidate elected and show the North they were united and strong.

  Richard was standing behind her now, removing her dress, pulling it off her shoulders, telling her how milky soft they were. His hands were touching her bare skin. She cringed when he moved them down the front of her to fondle her breasts, but she forced herself to pretend that she liked it. In time, she was sure, she would learn to like it. She had already enjoyed this once, but when Lee had touched her there, it had been because she wanted him.

  Again she tried to think of other things, glad for the wine that made her thoughts swim. She thought how happy she was her father seemed to be doing better. He had been so proud to walk her down the aisle and give her away. Oh, yes, Father was pleased to see his daughter finally marry Richard Potter.

  The rest of her clothes were being removed, and Richard seemed to be doing it rather roughly, but then he was anxious, as any new husband would be. He was carrying her to the bed now, laying her on it. He began removing his own clothes, and she turned away. Why had it been so easy to look at Lee? She had wanted to see him, all of him; she had wanted to touch him. Now she was embarrassed, not only for Richard to see her naked, but to look at him the same way.

  She felt him move onto the bed, and she wished she had drunk even more wine. This was his wedding night. He expected his “prize.” She might as well get it over with and learn to like it. If he made her pregnant right away, she could keep him out of her bed for a good long time, feigning complications of the pregnancy. And, after all, Richard was handsome, and he was a well-built man. He was kind and gentle…

  Why couldn’t she open her eyes?

  “I know it’s your first time, my darling,” Richard was saying. “Don’t be afraid. In no time you will enjoy it immensely.” She felt his hands moving over her, but he did nothing to make her want to open herself to him. He apparently thought her reluctance was because she was a virgin. Let him think what he wanted. She hated herself for not being as happy as she should be. Half the women in Louisiana would like to be in her place right now. Why did she feel like crying? If only he would go a little slower. Only minutes had passed and already they were both naked.

  He was bending close, taking her breast into his mouth. He groaned her name, told her how beautiful she was, began moving over her eagerly, roughly. He pried her knees apart and positioned himself between them. “Quickly, Audra,” he said. “We will do it quickly and get rid of the pain, and then all will be pleasure for you.”

  Audra gasped when he rammed himself inside of her without any further foreplay. His thrusts were hard and almost violent, and she wanted to scream at him to stop, but she was his wife now. She told herself to relax. Wine. She would start drinking more wine so that she never had to be any more aware than this of what he was doing. From now on she would keep wine in her bedroom, or perhaps drink as much as she could each night after supper.

  He moved in quick jabs. It hadn’t been like this with Lee. Such a gentle rhythm Lee had used, like music. And he had done such beautiful things to her first, so that she had wanted him desperately. Lee. She would think of Lee. Perhaps if she could pretend it was Lee doing this. Yes! That was it! She could always pretend it was Lee, and Richard would never know the difference! He would be satisfied that his new wife was responsive, and she would be satisfied, at least a little, with her memories. “Lee,” she whispered.

  Richard grasped her bottom and raised up, pushing so roughly that it hurt. She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her like a conqueror, his eyes wild, a look of anger on his face. With one last thrust he buried himself in her, and she felt his life spill into her belly. She prayed it would take hold. Why did he still look angry? He should be quite satisfied. What had she done wrong? Had he expected her to cry? To protest? She drew in her breath then when he grasped her by the hair and jerked her head up, still breathing hard. “Who is he?” he growled, baring his teeth like a wildcat.

  Audra frowned. Now she wished she hadn’t drunk so much wine, for she could not think straight at all. “Wh…who?” she asked. The room was beginning to spin.

  He held her face between his big, strong hands. “You were no virgin!” he sneered, bringing his face close to hers.

  Audra’s eyes widened. How on earth did a man know that?

  “I’ve had my share of the nigger girls, broke in plenty of young ones. It was never this easy, wife of mine! I heard no cry of pain, nor did I see any in your face. I slipped into you like you were a greased-up whore! Somebody’s had you first, and I want to know who!”

  “I…Richard, I’ve never…”

  The slap came quick and stung like fire. Audra cried out and shivered, part of her frightened, another part of her furious. How dare he hit her! Audra Brennan had never been hit in her life! She met his eyes boldly then, refusing to show fear, but realizing she was no longer Audra Brennan. She was Audra Potter, and her husband had just sealed the union. There was no changing any of it now.

  “What difference does it make?” she seethed, her left cheek burning. “It’s you I married!”

  He slapped her again on the same cheek. This time he brought stubborn tears to her eyes, and a deeper fear set in.

  “I’d do worse, Audra Potter, but this is our wedding night, and I wouldn’t want the public to see my lovely new wife bruised the next morning!” He grasped and pulled at her hair so tightly that it hurt. “Do you think every nigger girl I take to my bed is willing at first? I make them willing, and you’ll by God find out how I do it! I didn’t want it to be this way, Audra. I intended to treat you differently, because I really did love you. But you’ve betrayed me! While I was lost in your pretty little body you whispered a name! A name, Audra! Lee! You were so lost in fantasizing about another man you probably don’t even realize you spoke his name! Who is he, Audra? I want no more lies!”

  She winced with fierce pain, wondering if a person could pull someone’s hair out by the fistful. “He’s someone…I’ll never see again. It was a whole year…ago, Richard, and just once. Just once. I was…young and lonely and homesick.”

  “Homesick!” He let go of her but remained straddled over her. “It happened while you were up in Connecticut?”

  She broke into tears, feeling more homesick at this moment than she ever had while in Connecticut.

  He leaned close, his face only inches away. “A Yankee man?”

  “He was…good to me. He loved me…” She dared to meet his eyes defiantly. “And I loved him. But we knew…it could never work. I came home, and I have never…seen or corresponded with him again.”

  His breathing quickened with rage. “
Joey has mentioned a man named Lee Jeffreys to me a time or two, seems to be quite fond of the man. Is he the one?”

  She put a hand to her stinging cheek. “Yes,” she answered, holding his eyes. She thought about the night Lee had stood up to Cy Jordan and later had told her about how Jordan treated his wife, how furious it made him. “And Lee Jeffreys would never hit a woman, no matter what she did!”

  Richard straightened, then jerked her to a sitting position. “Well, I am not Lee Jeffreys! I’m so sorry to disappoint you, my dear!” He squeezed her arms hard enough to cause pain. “And as long as you are going to fantasize about my being someone else, I suppose there is no need to worry about being gentle with my new wife, is there?”

  What did he mean by that? “Richard, I learned to love you. I married you because it was the right thing to do, and I have every intention of being a faithful wife, giving you children, making you proud.”

  He let go of one arm and put a hand to her reddened cheek. “Oh, you will do all of those things, my sweet. I will have the most beautiful woman in Louisiana on my arm in public, and everyone will envy and admire us. But behind closed doors, my dear, I will not be proud! I expected a virgin, and I got a slut! It would have been bad enough if it had been a southern man, but a Yankee!” He moved off her legs. “Turn over, Mrs. Potter.”