After what seemed an interminable time, everyone else had finished their soup, too. Adam rang the little bell again, and instantly the serving girls re-appeared to remove their soup bowls. They took not only the bowls but the two plates beneath them, which confirmed Lori’s suspicion that this was to be a very simple meal. How disappointed the judge and the preacher must be. While a bowl of soup was more than enough for her and Bessie, Lori imagined they were used to more substantial fare.
“I expect Sudie has outdone herself on this meal,” Judge Fairweather said, rubbing his plump hands together as if he expected something. “It isn’t every day the master of the house gets married.”
“I’m sure she’s done her usual best,” Adam agreed.
“I can’t tell you how many times through the years I tried to buy her from your father,” the judge went on.
Lori noticed that even though everyone’s plates had been removed, no one was making any move to leave the table. Well, perhaps there was some dessert. Lori hoped it wouldn’t be too rich for her to eat.
“That Sudie is a treasure,” the judge was saying. “I hope you appreciate her, Mrs. Ross.”
Although the judge was looking at Lori, it took her a minute to realize who he meant when he said “Mrs. Ross.” “Oh,” Lori said when the truth had finally dawned on her. “Yes, I’m sure I will.” She could feel the heat scalding her face, and she couldn’t bring herself to even glance at Adam for fear she would read disapproval on his face. Or regret.
“Has your family ever owned slaves before, Mrs. Ross?” he judge asked.
Her face still burning, Lori shook her head. “Never. My pa, he... he didn’t hold with it.”
Bessie made a rude noise. “Couldn’t afford it, more likely. I expect if somebody’d give him a slave, he’d’ve changed his mind quick enough.”
“In any case,” the judge went on, tactfully ignoring the reference to Lori’s late father, “you will need to establish your authority immediately. Not that I think Adam’s slaves are unruly, mind you.” He gave Adam a conciliatory smile before turning his attention back to Lori again. “But any servant will take advantage of his master, if given the chance. There’s no need to be cruel, of course, but you must be firm. Otherwise they will steal you blind and laugh at you behind your back.”
“And remember, Mrs. Ross, that they’re like children,’' Reverend Hartsfield added. “They need your guidance and your protection as well.”
Before Lori could respond to either of them—or ever think of a response for that matter—the dining room door opened again and the serving girls were back. This time they carried new plates which they set down in front of each of the diners, and before Lori could even begin to wonder what they were for, the girls began to carry in serving platters laden with more food than Lori usually saw in a month.
There was a ham and a roast chicken and fried potatoes and baked sweet potatoes and new peas with tiny onions and fresh salad and pickles and preserves and biscuits and several things Lori didn’t even recognize.
What a fool she was to think that Adam Ross would serve the guests at his wedding just a bowl of soup! But why on earth would they prepare so much food for five people? For a moment, she wondered if perhaps Adam had invited more people and they simply hadn’t shown up. But the thought was simply too horrible to contemplate, especially when she had to figure out how on earth she was going to do justice to this meal.
In spite of her protests, Lori was compelled to accept at least a sampling of every dish on the table.
“Can’t insult the cook,” Reverend Hartsfield warned her when she tried to refuse.
Fortunately, the soup had settled her stomach a bit so she was able to eat at least a little of the sumptuous meal. Bessie had the good sense not to remark on the amount and variety of the food, but every now and then she shot Lori a look that spoke eloquently of her amazement. When they got home, Lori would probably be hearing about this meal and the scandalous waste of food for most of the night.
Except, Lori suddenly realized, she wouldn’t be going home with Bessie. Not tonight and not ever again. Because now she was Adam’s wife. And she lived here—with him.
What little appetite she had fled instantly, and the delicious food on her plate had all the appeal of sawdust. She laid down her fork and reached for the glass of wine one of the serving girls had poured for her. How much of it would she have to drink to drown the hot ball of apprehension that had formed in her stomach? How much to loosen the nerves that had knotted in terror all over her body? Certainly more than was in her glass, and probably more than was in the entire world.
Dear God, how was she ever going to go through with this? How would she ever be able to truly become Adam Ross’s wife when the mere thought of allowing a man to touch her turned her blood to ice?
But then, perhaps he didn’t want that any more than she lid. He wasn’t in love with her, after all. He hardly knew her, in fact. And what possible attraction could he feel for a girl like her with no education or breeding or social graces? None at all. In fact, she should consider herself fortunate that he had lowered himself far enough to marry her. What could ever make her believe he wanted any more than that from her?
“Are you all right?” Adam’s voice cut into her thoughts. It was so deep and masculine, yet so gentle. “If you’re not feeling well, perhaps you’d like to retire,” he suggested when she didn’t reply.
“No, I’m fine, really,” she assured him. She certainly wasn’t going to go off to his bedroom, not until she absolutely had to.
As she might have expected, he smiled kindly. “You look awfully pale again. I hope the dinner agrees with you.”
“It’s wonderful,” she assured him. “Everything is... wonderful.”
“It certainly is,” Judge Fairweather agreed. “Don’t know when I’ve had ham this sweet or chicken this tender. It’s Sudie, I know. She doesn’t do the cooking, mind you,” he confided in Lori, “but she runs everything in this house. Adam, you’re a lucky man.”
“I’ve always felt fortunate to have her,” Adam agreed pleasantly.
Lori wondered if she would feel so fortunate.
“Might be a good idea to figure out what you’ll do without her,” Bessie advised around a mouthful of food. “Like when the Yankees come and all the darkies run off with ’em.”
“Nonsense,” the judge insisted. “They’d never run off with the Yankees. Why, we haven’t had a single runaway slave in this county since the war started. And the same is true all over the Confederacy. All those prophets of doom who predicted that when the men left their homes for the army, the slaves would revolt, were dead wrong, weren’t they?”
“It ain’t over yet,” Bessie reminded them all. “And we ain’t seen a Yankee army in Texas yet, either. Sure, they stayed put ’cause there’s a war goin’ on and they don’t know which side’s gonna win, but if the Yankees win—”
The minister and the judge both gasped their outrage at such heresy and cut Bessie off instantly.
“How can you even think such a thing?” the judge demanded.
“The Yankees could never prevail against the best of our manhood!” Reverend Hartsfield insisted.
“They’s doin’ a pretty good job of prevailin’ in most of the South, and now they’s knocking on the door in Texas, too,” Bessie reminded them. “And if they can’t whip us on the battlefield, they’ll starve us out before too much longer. Just how long you think we can keep going with all our men off fightin’ and nobody stayin’ home to grow crops?”
Judge Fairweather made some incoherent noises of outrage and Reverend Hartsfield glared his disapproval, but Adam was the one who silenced her. “I don’t think this is appropriate conversation for our wedding day, do you, Lori?”
“No,” she quickly agreed, and then realized she had nothing else to suggest as a topic. Surely, a girl with breeding and education, the kind of girl Adam Ross should have married, would have known exactly what to say and do. Lori
could only sit and listen and think about how terrified she was at the prospect of being Adam Ross’s wife. Fortunately, Adam knew how to handle the conversation himself, and he quickly turned it to neighborhood matters and the condition of the church steeple, which had been hit by lightning. Unfortunately, there probably wasn’t enough cash money in all of Texas to fix it.
At long last, the servants came in and cleared the table, and then, with a flourish they carried in the wedding cake. Lori didn’t think she had ever seen anything so beautiful. So much time and trouble spent just to prepare something that would be eaten in a matter of minutes. In Lori’s world, where people barely managed to survive from day to day, no one had the time or the energy to devote to something so frivolous. But this was a different world, like none she had ever known. And now she was a part of that world, too.
Sudie herself had come out to cut the cake. The serving girls, carrying it on a plank, set it at the far end of the long table so it could be properly admired.
“Ah, Sudie, you can be proud of this feast,” Judge Fair- weather said.
“Thank you, Judge,” Sudie said, but Lori noticed she was looking at Adam, as if his approval was all she cared about.
“Everything was delicious,” Adam assured her with a smile. The smile was one Lori had never seen before, warm and full of genuine affection, as if he truly cared about this woman. “And that cake is magnificent,” he added.
Sudie seemed to grow under the praise, squaring her shoulders and pulling herself up until she actually appeared taller. That was when Lori really understood that she hadn’t been mistaken: Adam’s praise was all she cared about. She hadn’t even glanced at Lori, and Lori understood also that her own opinion—and probably the rest of her, too—counted for nothing to this woman.
Stung, Lori could only murmur her thanks when one of the girls brought her a slice of the cake. It was white and tall and looked feather light. How long since she’d tasted cake of any kind? Not since the Yankees had strangled Texas with their blockade. In fact, not since before her father had left for the war.
Her mouth watered just remembering how the cake would feel on her tongue and how the icing would melt into sugary sweetness. Just the smell alone was intoxicating, stirring memories of birthdays past and Christmases that would never come again.
She didn’t realize how long she had been staring at it until Adam asked, “Don’t you like cake, Lori?”
“What?” She looked up in confusion and realized everyone was waiting for her to begin. Then she glanced at where Sudie still stood at the end of the table. Her skin, Lori realized, was as white as her own, and only her clothing distinguished her as the servant in this room. But if she felt the inferiority of her position, she gave no sign of it as she met Lori’s gaze unflinchingly. If anything, her expression said that she felt herself superior to the woman her master had taken as his wife that day.
You’ll need to establish your authority immediately, Judge Fairweather had warned her. But how was she to do so? Lori thought perhaps she would be better served to play to Sudie’s vanity.
“I love cake,” she told Adam with a forced smile. “I was just thinking that this looks too good to eat.”
“Well, don’t let that stop you,” the judge advised, digging into his own serving with such enthusiasm that no one would have ever guessed he’d already eaten enough that afternoon to keep Lori and Bessie well supplied for a week.
The cake was even more delicious than Lori had imagined it would be. If Sudie was responsible for this and everything else she had tasted today, Adam was indeed lucky to have her. If only Lori had felt lucky, as well.
Finally, the meal was over, and Adam suggested the ladies withdraw to the parlor while the gentlemen enjoyed their brandy and cigars. Bessie probably would have liked a cigar herself, but at least she had the good sense not to say so and embarrass Lori even more completely.
The woman named Sudie led the two of them back to the parlor and saw that they were served coffee.
“Can I get you anything else, Missy?” Sudie asked when the serving girl had withdrawn. Her back was ramrod straight, and Lori could see that it took every ounce of her will to remain civil to Lori and Bessie. Probably, she had never been forced to entertain people of their class in her master’s house, and doing so now was taxing her patience to the limit. She still refused to look directly at them. Perhaps, Lori couldn’t help thinking, Sudie hoped they would disappear if she refused to acknowledge them.
“No, that’s fine. Thank you. And Sudie?” she added when the woman turned as if to go.
She stopped and waited, although every nerve in her body was radiating her reluctance to obey even the slightest command from the likes of Lori. “Yes’m?”
“I wanted to thank you for... for making everything so nice today.”
Lori could feel Bessie’s outraged glare, but she ignored it and waited for Sudie’s response. If she’d been expecting any softening in the woman’s attitude, she was disappointed, however.
“I did it for Massa Adam,” she said and turned on her heel and left the room before Lori could say anything else.
“Let that be a lesson to you, Missy," Bessie said when the doors had closed behind Sudie. “You can’t make friends with a darkie. They hate you just ’cause you’s white, and that one’d prob’ly slit your throat as soon as look at you.”
“Bessie!” Lori exclaimed.
“It’s true. Oh, she won’t really murder you, but she’s likely to think of a hundred little ways to make your life miserable, just the same. Don’t you stand for it, though. She gives you any trouble, you have her whipped.”
“I couldn’t do that!”
“Didn’t you hear what the judge said? If they ain’t afraid of you, they’ll be laughin’ behind your back. Can’t have that, not if you want to be the mistress here.”
Of course, Lori had no wish to be the mistress here. Somehow her youthful fantasies about becoming Adam Ross’s wife hadn’t included supervising his slaves. She had no idea how to even begin such a task.
Mercifully, Bessie decided she had adequately covered the subject of Adam’s slaves and offered Lori no more advice. They drank their coffee in silence for a while.
Then Bessie said, “Well, I reckon I don’t have to give you no advice for your wedding night, do I?”
Lori gasped as she felt the heat of humiliation and rage scalding her face. Unfortunately, she didn’t have an opportunity to reply because at that moment the parlor doors opened and the gentlemen returned to sit with them.
Adam’s gaze, she noticed, sought her immediately as he entered the room. His finely carved lips curved into a smile at the sight of her, and Lori felt her rage at Bessie evaporating in the warmth of that smile. He really was the most handsome man she had ever seen, and it wasn’t just his fine clothes. He would, she was certain, have looked just as appealing in overalls and a longjohn shirt, though perhaps not as imposing.
Apprehension prickled along her nerve endings as he approached. “I hope we haven’t kept you waiting too long,” he said when he stopped in front of her chair. He seemed so tall from where she sat looking up at him, even taller than he usually did. And so blatantly masculine that Lori had difficulty drawing a breath.
In all her youthful fantasies, she had always known exactly what to say and do in Adam’s exalted presence. Unfortunately, Adam’s actual presence seemed to rob her of every sensible thought, leaving her speechless and stupid and feeling every bit the bumpkin that his slave Sudie obviously thought her to be. And which Adam would think her, too, unless she managed to show him otherwise—and soon.
But she didn’t manage it that afternoon. Adam chose the seat closest to her, and his gaze kept drifting to her as the five of them sat together in the parlor, as if he expected—or hoped—that she would say something clever. Or at least intelligent. If so, he was disappointed, although Lori had to give him credit, he never appeared to be the least bit disappointed and was unfailingly polite to her t
hrough the whole ordeal.
Fortunately, the judge and the minister kept the conversation going with Bessie’s occasional assistance until the shadows had begun to grow long outside the tall windows.
“I guess it’s time we left the newlyweds alone,” the judge said after several hours. His sly smile said he knew why they would want to be alone, too, and Lori felt her apprehension returning.
“I suppose you’re right,” Reverend Hartsfield agreed. “I’m sure we’ve long since worn out our welcome.”
The two men offered their congratulations to Adam and Lori in turn. When Bessie had made no move to leave, Adam finally said, “I’ll have Oscar bring the carriage for you, too, Mrs. McClintock.”
Bessie raised her eyebrows in surprise, but she didn’t protest. As much as Lori dreaded being alone with Adam, she was equally happy to see Bessie leave.
Bringing the carriage and the gentlemen’s horses up took some time, and the men made idle conversation while they all stood on the back porch of the house. Lori could see the slave quarters from here and wondered suddenly where Sudie slept. The thought that she might have a room in the house disturbed her more than she wanted to admit, even to herself.
Finally, the carriage and the horses arrived, everyone said their goodbyes again, and this time Bessie also offered Lori her good wishes. Lori even thought she saw a hint of tears in the older woman’s eyes when she leaned over to give Lori a quick peck on the cheek. Lori was still too angry with her to forgive her just yet, however, and she offered only the barest acknowledgment of Bessie’s farewell.
Finally, she and Adam were alone, and Lori had to fight against the new fears that threatened to overwhelm her.
“I’m sure that’s not exactly the kind of wedding you always dreamed about,” Adam remarked as they walked back into the house.
He was still not using his cane, and Lori had come to realize that he must only use it in public.
“Everything was very nice, really,” she assured him hastily. Once inside the hallway, she stopped, uncertain where to go.
From This Day Forward Page 7