by Hines, Jerri
Tonight, though, he refused to think of anything except his lovely wife. The theater awaited. At first, Mother had suggested the Arch Street Theater, but he had immediately rejected that theater when he realized what was playing—The Southern Rebellion by Land and Sea. Instead, he chose The Black Creek at the Walnut Street Theater. To his joy, Josephine had allowed him to invite the Mitchells along and had even seemed quite eager to include them.
He held up her pelisse of vivid black velvet with a matching fur collar and placed it around her shoulders. She turned to adjust her hat, a large brim black velvet hat drooped fashionably front and back. A red-dyed ostrich plume ran over the top and trailed down the nape of her neck. He snuck under the brim and stole a kiss before they exited out of their room.
“Later, my darling,” he promised.
“I shall be thinking of it all night.” She rewarded him with a brilliant smile. She took a step forward and then halted. “Do I have time for one more…?”
“No, my dear. They won’t sleep if you keep checking on them. The children are being well looked after,” he assured her. “Come. We have a delightful evening in front of us.”
“We do, don’t we?” She intertwined her arm in his. “Let us go. We don’t want to be late.”
****
The carriage tracked through the newly fallen snow until it pulled to a stop in front of an elongated brick building with high arched windows with a sign which proclaimed it Walnut Street Theater. Gas-lit lamps lit up the entrance and patrons bustled around the grille of the ticket booth. A poster hung outside the door: The Black Creek starring Edwin Booth.
Cullen had watched his wife in conversation with Diana Mitchell with deep satisfaction. The gist of their discussion centered on the most effective manner of discipline for young boys. Diana and Gavin’s young son was only a year older than Percival. The semblance of normalcy appeared on the horizon.
His arm rounded Josephine as they walked up the steps of the theater. As they entered into the lobby of the magnificent theater, she tensed, aware of the curious eyes upon her. His arm tightened about her waist.
Jo gazed up at him. Her bright eyes reflected her resolve to enjoy her evening. She was prepared and readied to face the world with him by her side. Smiling down at her, he led her into the auditorium.
****
Josephine had to admit she was enjoying herself greatly. After everything she endured when she left Magnolia Bluff, she would have never believed she would be happy again. He loved her and she…well, she realized she had never stopped loving him.
In the far recesses of her heart, guilt lived. What right did she have to happiness in the midst of such a horrible war? Wade was dead; the South had been devastated. Jo remembered what Wade had told her—live one day at a time. She would do so.
The noisy smoke-filled auditorium quieted when the usher announced the play would begin. Cullen squeezed her hand gently in assurance as boys carried long poles down the aisles to adjust the gaslights. The footlight candles shimmered on the stage as the piano player began to play. For the next hour, she became enjoyably immersed in the play.
When the lights came on for intermission, Jo worried briefly that Cullen might feel the need to introduce her to his acquaintances. But when they entered the lobby, he asked only if the women would like refreshments.
Josephine watched Cullen engrossed in conversation with Gavin.
Touching Jo’s arm, Diana leaned over to her. “I believe they like this time to talk themselves. If you ask me, men gossip more than we do, except they call it discussions.”
Laughing lightly, Jo suddenly halted. She saw Kathleen, her former-sister-in-law, sweep down the stairs on the arm of a distinctively commanding figure of a man, an army colonel from the bars on his collar.
Kathleen cast her gaze toward Jo’s direction. Jo cringed when Kathleen advanced upon her with eyes narrowed. Tilting her head to her escort, Kathleen whispered to him. He released her arm and took a step back.
“Are you well?” Diana asked.
Diana’s words seemed to have resonated from far away. Jo made no response. All her attention lay upon the woman who came toward her, the woman she had hoped never to see again.
The years had been kind to Kathleen. Dressed in an exquisitely coiffed taffeta gown, her light brown curls were swept upward in a fashionable trend. She had gained a mature, womanly allure.
“Well, Josephine, you seem to have done well for yourself,” Kathleen sneered, stiffly smiling. “Come…come now. Don’t be shy around me. Are we not family?”
“Once, long ago. You know well enough that you are not an acquaintance I wanted to renew.” Jo gave the woman a bland smile. “Now, if you will excuse me.”
Kathleen stepped in front of her to block Jo’s way. “Josephine, I can’t let you go so quickly. It’s been years, although if the truth be known, I remember all as if it were yesterday.”
“I, too, have those same memories.” Jo’s eyebrows arched in amazement of Kathleen’s brazen manners.
“Oh, it’s no secret of our connection here in Philadelphia, if you are wondering. There are no secrets between us. Why, I heard a nasty rumor that Cullen rescued you from the depths of... oh, what did I hear...prison.” Her voice carried a soft, husky quality within it as she continued. “We will have to get together for tea. I have always been fascinated with the tales I have heard about prison life. Tell me, Josephine, how did you survive? How many favors did you extend to be so well looked after?”
Jo’s cheeks grew hot with indignation. Rage boiled within her. Only the knowledge that Kathleen was baiting her kept her composed.
“Let’s go find the men, Josephine,” Diana kindly suggested. “They must be missing us…”
Kathleen reached out and grasped Josephine’s arm. “Oh, my dear, don’t be in such a hurry. We are no longer in strict and stuffy Charleston where I was the outsider. No, you are here in Philadelphia. Now you are the outsider. The good people of this city will never forgive Cullen for marrying a Southern heathen. They will never accept you.”
“Are you saying that I need to apologize for being Southern? I will never do so. I love my home, but my duty lies beside my husband. I want nothing more than for all the troops on both sides to return home safely. There has been too much death.” Josephine spoke in a tone much stronger than she physically felt. “I have always tried to live my life honorably and with character. That is how during these difficult times I survived. How do you?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Is it not? Why can I not question you and your integrity? You are a coward for attacking me in such a manner.”
Kathleen shrugged indolently. “Words are what I have found most Southerners hide behind. And now you hide behind your husband. I wonder how your fellow Southerners feel about your betrayal. You talk of honor and character yet display none of which you speak.”
Exasperated, Jo fought the urge to scream at her. Instead, she uttered in a low, forceful voice, “You know nothing of me.”
“I know enough.” Kathleen smirked. “And so will the rest of Philadelphia soon enough.”
“It is sad, Kathleen. I feel nothing for you except repugnance. It is beyond my comprehension how one can coldheartedly abandon their child. You never once answered any of my letters I sent about your darling little girl. Never once inquired of her health or well-being.” Jo choked back her emotions. “She died in my arms…your beautiful little girl. I paid to have a letter sent urgently to you. I never heard back. That is what I find unforgivable. Fannie was so small, so innocent. What could she have ever done to harden your heart so? No, others may question me, but not you.”
Kathleen’s eyes narrowed with hatred. “This is far from over, Josephine. It won’t be long until Cullen realizes the enormous mistake he has made. Not long at all…”
“You are sadly mistaken, Kathleen.”
Jo turned to see that Cullen had walked up behind her. His jaw was set; his brow furrowed. He s
narled, “Leave my wife alone from your barbs or you will sorely regret it.”
“Tsk...tsk…tsk, Cullen. You should know I don’t take threats kindly,” Kathleen warned crisply and took a step back with a smile, although it held little humor in it. “We’ll see who regrets what.”
She said nothing else, but turned back to her escort. The next minute, the two exited the theater. The intermission was long over. One of the ushers announced the doors would be closed, for the play was about to begin.
“Come. We’ll go home.” Cullen’s arm went protectively around her.
She placed her hand on his arm gently and shook her head. “I’m not going to let her ruin my evening.”
“Are you certain?” He looked over at Gavin, who seemed to be waiting for their decision.
“Yes, most definitely.” Josephine managed a smile. “The play is delightful, as is the company we have. Besides, you promised me a night out.”
The four returned to their seats. The play went on. Delightful as it may have been, Jo’s mind was far away. She could not simply dismiss the ominous feeling that Kathleen had provoked within her.
* * * *
Reflecting on the evening, Josephine sat at her vanity and stared into her beveled mirror. Mary unfastened her gown. It would have been a wonderful night if not for Kathleen. She could not deny that Kathleen’s words had disturbed her. How did Kathleen know she had been in prison?
In the carriage on the way home, Cullen assured her that she had no fear that it would become common knowledge. He would make certain of it, insinuating he would find where Kathleen learned of the fact.
“You were wonderful, my love,” Cullen asserted. “I even saw some kind smiles while we walked by.”
She would not have disputed his statement if not for that brief encounter with Kathleen. Perhaps after the war, she would not feel as much as an intruder at social functions. However, if anyone found out she had been in prison, no matter the reason, she had little doubt any smiles would be dispensed her way.
Mary reached over the gown’s shoulders to slide it off.
“That won’t be necessary. I will help my wife.”
In the mirror, Jo saw her husband’s reflection in the doorway, his waistcoat and cravat removed. His dark eyes caught hers, leaving little doubt of his intent. The evening’s confrontation had been forgotten; his mind was not on anything other than his obvious desire.
Jo gave no notice of Mary, who nodded slightly, and quickly exited.
Cullen closed the door and came over behind her. “Would it surprise you that I have a vision of you wearing my gift?”
“I am wearing them now.” She smiled alluringly, touching the lustrous pearls that cascaded around her neck.
“Not as I want to see them worn.”
He reached down and lifted her to her feet. His arms encircled her and pulled her back against him. The power of his touch warmed her; his fervent kisses on her neck sent a torrent of sensations surging through her.
His hands moved over the silk that covered her breasts, intertwining his fingers in the strings of the pearls. As he slipped the gown off her shoulders, he pulled the material down to her waist. He ran his hand up her pantalets and pulled them down, making her shudder. Soon he had dispensed with all the layers of clothing between him and his fantasy. She stood as he desired, with nothing but the pearls against her skin.
A large smile formed on his lips, staring at her in the mirror as his hands claimed her with firm strokes along her stomach, hips, and thighs. Dipping down, his kisses scalded her neck. Slowly, almost languidly, his caresses sent rippling waves of pleasurable sensations crashing through her.
She turned to him to accept more. He complied and lowered his head down to her breasts. As he suckled on one, and then the other, she closed her eyes and basked in his maddening kisses. Pausing only a moment, he led her to their bed.
He looked down at her longingly, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. She helped him shed his clothing, worked at the fastening on his pants. Gently, he pressed her back on the bed and covered her with his naked body.
Their tongues tangled, enthralled in the essence of their passion. She responded with abandon. Sliding her fingers through his hair, she pushed him on his back and then straddled him.
As she rode him, the pearls hung down over her naked breasts in the most provocative manner. Aroused to the point he cautioned himself. He needed to give her pleasure, compelled to give her pleasure, before his own.
He flipped her, returning her to her back. “Hold your arms over your head and spread your legs.”
She objected to nothing and he wanted everything. The anticipation of the coming pleasure curled in her stomach and flared in an overwhelming heat at the core of her being. He gave her pleasure with his mouth and tongue, but he took his own in hers.
He tasted her and savored her every gasp and groan of swelling passion. She came hard, thrashing and screaming. He took her then and filled her with the hunger he held for her…only her. Each thrust sharpened wanton sensations, taking them to a plane of ecstasy that erupted into exquisite relief.
Afterwards, Jo snuggled into his shoulder and he drew her closer. Beyond this night, he took solace in the love they shared and knew they could face the world outside these doors. This was as it should be. Josephine and him together.
* * * *
On Monday, Cullen rose early in the morning, the memories of Josephine’s beauty and passion fresh on his mind. He would rather have lost himself remembering the long hours of incredible pleasure she had given him, but he had tasks to complete before he left for Washington on the afternoon train.
He had decided that he would move his family out to Rosemount when he returned from his trip. Most times, the house was not open until summer, but he saw the desire in Josephine to leave the confines of the city.
Kathleen was not the only resident of the city who held prejudice against Southerners. The city’s bias toward their Southern brothers swelled. There was no need to expose Josephine to those sentiments more than need be.
In time, the rift that had divided the nation would begin to heal, but not until the war officially ended. President Lincoln had been inaugurated for another term a couple of weeks before. His first term had been spent diffusing the age-old practice of slavery. That, in turn, had caused the bloodiest, most horrific of wars, pitting brother against brother, family against family. Now, President Lincoln faced another gargantuan task: leading the nation out of the darkness it had fallen into and into the nation he envisioned.
Despite the earliness of the day, he found his father already at work in his office. His home office was situated in the back of the house with a separate door for any necessary visitors, such as the one sitting in front of the desk.
Heyward appeared deep in thought, rubbing his hand over his chin. He looked up when Cullen walked across the room.
“Cullen,” Jonathan said. “Heyward has come with some disturbing news.”
“What has happened?”
His first thought was something had happened to Miss Hazel. He prayed to God she was well. Jo took solace in the fact that her mammy was close at hand. Cullen came to the realization that it was useless trying to separate Jo from Miss Hazel. He had relented and withdrawn his objections to Jo visiting Miss Hazel.
Yesterday, Jo had even gone down to the Baptist church and donated supplies for the injured black soldiers. Miss Hazel had directed her energy into helping the wounded men who often received inferior medical treatment.
Granted, he had been furious when Jo had left with Heyward in the manner she had when she first arrived. There was so much already weighing against his wife, she didn’t need any gossip about being escorted through Philadelphia with a freedman.
In truth, it had been more. He had been jealous of her love for her mammy…her need for someone other than himself. Not to mention, he had been abrupt with Heyward.
“Yesterday when Miss Jo was leaving after her visit wit
h Ma at the church, I noticed a figure lurching in the alley. He looked like a vagabond, dressed in rags, heavily bearded. The man’s hat brim was pulled down to his eyebrows, leaving most of his face in the shadows, but I swore, Mr. Cullen, when he looked at me, it was Harry Lee. I ran after him, but he disappeared.”
Cullen faced Heyward. “It is a relief to me that you are keeping a keen eye out for Miss Josephine. I am deeply appreciative. Moreover, this gives me a chance to apologize to you for the last time we talked.”
“It’s not necessary,” Heyward said. “I’m more concerned about the welfare of my family and Miss Jo. I refuse to lose more to that man.”
“Then I can relieve your mind.” Cullen walked over and sat on the corner of the desk. “Harry Lee is dead. He was captured and held as a prisoner of war at Fort Delaware. Andrew informed me of the fact and I telegraphed a man I know down at the state department. I just got confirmation from Captain Gibson, the fort’s commander, that Harry Lee died of smallpox last year. It’s over.”
“You’re sure?”
“Gibson said he saw a copy of Harry Lee’s death certificate. Again, I apologize. I should have relayed the information to you.”
Heyward shook his head. “I could have sworn it was Harry Lee.”
“The son of a bitch is dead, but it does not mean that others aren’t out there gunning for my wife. You have brought up a good point. There are many in the city who hold hard feelings toward any Southerner. Someone may have set their sights on Jo. Maybe I shouldn’t leave today.”
Jonathan held up his hand and shook it slightly. “I don’t think it’s necessary. I will see that she is looked after. If she goes out, I will send Ainson with her, and I will alert the coachmen and footmen to be on guard for any suspicious activity.”
“If I see that man again, I will let you know,” Heyward said.
A knock on the door disturbed the conversation. Elizabeth slipped her head in the room and smiled. “Father, Mother wanted me to tell you that Roger Dukett is in the drawing room. Were you expecting him this morning? He says you were supposed to discuss his government contract for uniforms.”