He stopped and considered the words. They still held true today. He had met many women in his lifetime, but most of the ones considered a good match were calculating and manipulative. Alexandra Lewis was a good example. Yet something about her captured his imagination. Perhaps it was her weakness the first time they had met. In spite of her evident pain, Alexandra had been more concerned about her mother and her slave than her own comfort.
He closed his Bible with a sigh and sank to his knees next to the bed. “Lord, You know my heart belongs to You. I am content to remain single if it is Your will, but if not, please lead me to a straightforward and honest woman who loves You with the same love and devotion I feel. A part of me would like someone who loves me in the same way Susannah loves Judah, but that is secondary to living the life You direct.” A feeling of peace settled on him. He basked in the privilege of serving God even though he was only a man. “God, thank You for sacrificing Your Son for my sake. For providing the way to eternal life in Your presence. Help me to always keep You first in all my ways. Amen.”
He pushed himself up and returned the Bible to its place on the table. It was time to get back outside. He had a lot of work to accomplish before his day was over. His uneasiness banished, Jeremiah felt ready to tackle whatever problems lay ahead.
Chapter 10
The Christmas season was especially hard without Papa.
The family continued to follow their holiday traditions. On Christmas Eve, a tree was brought into the parlor. The ladies strung berries to decorate it while Uncle John read the account of Christ’s birth from Luke. Alexandra gave each member of the family a miniature she had painted, a project that had kept her busy in the weeks leading to Christmas. So busy she almost didn’t notice Lowell’s absence…almost.
He had not been back to see her since the day he took her to Magnolia Plantation to visit the Hugheses. Had he heard something? No, that was silly. She had attended a small dinner last week and learned the Sheffields were out of town on business. Surely Lowell would visit once they returned.
Alexandra bid her relatives good night and sought her bedchamber, trying to ignore the pervading gloom. It seemed she could feel the passage of time in her very bones. What would she do if Lowell did not return? Could she find another suitable candidate among the local families? She tried to imagine flirting with some of the men she had met. Would they be as responsive as Lowell? Or would they spurn her efforts with the same haughty attitude Mr. LeGrand had adopted?
She rolled over and punched her pillow as she relived his rejection. How dare he? And why was it his blue gaze followed her into her dreams?
Soft, cold rain pattered against Alexandra’s windowsill on Christmas morning. The gray drops drained the countryside of the remnants of color. The grass was hidden under a carpet of brown leaves, and even the green pine needles drooped under the weight of the raindrops. Alexandra felt as sad as they looked. Would she ever experience unadulterated happiness again? Or would her father’s death overshadow every joy? She felt broken, lost. And she didn’t know where to turn to find herself again.
She walked to the mirror above her washbasin and pointed a finger at the reflection. “You will stop pitying yourself. No man likes a female who cannot brighten his day.” She hardly recognized the woman who looked back. Large dark eyes, narrow nose, and wide mouth. Her ebony hair gleamed in the yellow light of a kerosene lamp. With an impatient hand, she twisted it back and pinned it into a hasty knot. Was she beautiful? Most men seemed to think so. But was beauty enough?
She thought of her mother and grandmother who had both been vivacious when they were younger. Her mother, however, seemed to be fading as quickly as the grass outside. And while her grandmother had not faded away, Alexandra wasn’t certain she wanted to be as domineering as the matriarch of the family. Was there some way to avoid either future?
She turned from the mirror and grabbed a shawl. Tanner Plantation was draftier than she remembered. She hurried downstairs to the dining room and took her place. Mama drifted in soon after, followed by Aunt Patricia, Uncle John, and Cousin Percival.
Grand-mère entered last, taking her seat at the head of the table. “I have received a note from Mrs. Sheffield.”
Grand-mère’s announcement caught Alexandra by surprise. She looked up from the plate of coddled eggs and met the older woman’s gaze. “She’s returned to Natchez?”
“Yes.” Grand-mère helped herself to several slices of bacon and a piece of toast. “She will be visiting this afternoon. I expect you to be present.”
Alexandra nodded. “Did she say whether Lowell will accompany her?”
“Such a nice young man.” The comment came from her mother. “I look forward to renewing our acquaintance.”
“She did not say,” her grandmother responded before turning to Aunt Patricia. “Will you be here?”
Aunt Patricia shook her head. “You know I always visit the poor on Mondays. I consider it my Christian duty to take care of those who are not as fortunate as you and me.” She turned and stared at Alexandra. “I had hoped to convince you to join me today.”
Alexandra was relieved to have a valid excuse. She had gone with her aunt a few weeks earlier and found it depressing. They visited families who lived in single-room hovels with dirt floors. The people were grateful for the baskets of herbs, fruits, and vegetables—and Alexandra was grateful to bid them good-bye. She shrugged and made a mental note to have another pressing engagement before Monday rolled around again.
“She will be here with me awaiting our visitors.” Grand-mère looked back toward Alexandra. “And I trust you will look a great deal more presentable. Whether your young man is present or not, you need to remember to always put forth your best efforts.”
Anger flashed through her, but Alexandra pressed her lips together. She was not some child to be reminded of such things. Her eggs suddenly lost all appeal. She pushed the plate away and stood up. “Then I suppose I should start getting ready now.”
She heard her mother gasp but ignored the sound. Righteous anger carried her out of the room and up the stairs. But it dissipated as she considered the long hours before she could expect Mrs. Sheffield to arrive. She went back to the window and stared out at the rain.
Although Alexandra had had plenty of time to get ready for the Sheffield’s visit, she followed society’s dictates and arrived downstairs “fashionably late.” She entered the parlor, a smile of welcome on her face. At least the winter chill was being held at bay by the cheerful fire. Her gaze traveled around the room, coming to rest on the handsome countenance of Lowell Sheffield.
He stood when she entered and stepped forward as she dropped a curtsy. The warm kiss he pressed into the palm of her hand should have made her heart race, but it was cold and wet.
She shivered and pulled her hand free.
“How nice to see you, Miss Lewis.”
“And you, Mr. Sheffield.” She stepped past him to speak to his mother. “Welcome home, Mrs. Sheffield. I trust you had a pleasant Christmas.”
The older lady inclined her head. “It was quiet.”
“Too quiet.” Lowell’s voice tickled the curls at the nape of her neck. “I missed having our usual celebration.”
“Yes, but there simply wasn’t enough time to plan anything,” said his mother.
Lowell put a hand under Alexandra’s elbow and guided her toward a pair of chairs somewhat removed from the older ladies. “I have something to tell you.”
All of Alexandra’s doubt about his feelings disappeared. Lowell Sheffield was showing all the signs of a smitten suitor. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “You will have to come to a party my parents are hosting to find out.”
“A party? Have you forgotten I am in mourning?”
“No, but I hope you can make an exception.”
Mrs. Sheffield raised her voice slightly to include them in her conversation. “I was telling your grandmother of my plan to host a small party. Nothing la
rge, just a few of the young people—”
“Will there be dancing?” Her grandmother did not wait for Mrs. Sheffield to complete her explanation. “You know she is still observing the proper mourning period.”
“I will sit out any dances with your granddaughter,” Lowell offered.
“And cause everyone to gossip about the two of you? I don’t think that would be wise.”
Disappointment hit Alexandra with the force of a blow, but she knew better than to argue with her strong-willed grandparent. “Perhaps you can come over the next day and tell me all about it.”
Grand-mère made a tsking sound. “Did I say you could not go?” She turned to Mrs. Sheffield. “I don’t know what to do with young people these days. They never listen.”
“But I thought—”
A frown stopped her words. “I said Mr. Sheffield would start tongues wagging if he sat next to you for every dance. As long as I can rely on you to act circumspectly, I see no reason why you should not go.”
“I’m glad you trust her to us.” Mrs. Sheffield’s smile was radiant. “I’ll make sure she is taken care of.”
Her grandmother nodded. “I know you will. When is this party taking place?”
“A week from today,” Lowell answered for his mother. He leaned back against his chair, the picture of a wealthy young man in control of his destiny.
“Do you mean I have to wait a whole week to find out your surprise?” Alexandra gazed up at him and fluttered her eyelashes, a move that generally helped her get her way.
Lowell put a finger to his lips. “I have promised not to tell you yet.”
Alexandra pouted at him but to no avail. He would not budge. All too soon, his mother rose to her feet and gestured to him to join her.
“Until next week.” He bowed over Alexandra’s hand before escorting his mother from the parlor.
As they left, she could not help comparing Lowell Sheffield with the very different man who was residing at the Hugheses’ home. Lowell would never be caught in public in his shirtsleeves. He was much too aware of his dignity. It was an attitude shared by most of the men she knew, an attitude she had always accepted as normal until she met Jeremiah LeGrand, a man who had no care for the cut of his clothing or the style of his hair.
Was that why Lowell Sheffield, who had once seemed so attractive, now appeared superficial and shallow to her?
Chapter 11
I still don’t understand why you think I should attend this dinner.” Jeremiah pulled on the cuff of his coat. It felt odd to wear formal clothing after so much time in the field.
“You have been working far too hard.” Susannah’s curls bounced as the carriage hit a rut. She turned to her husband. “Tell him, Judah.”
“You’ve been working far too hard.” Jeremiah groaned and met his friend’s gaze. “Traitor.”
Judah spread his hands. “You should know by now you cannot win this argument.”
A sigh from Susannah’s corner of the carriage was long-suffering. “I don’t know why I even try to help the two of you.”
“Does that mean we can go back home?” Jeremiah raised his hand as if to knock on the wall separating his seat from the driver’s bench.
“Don’t you dare. We are going to this dinner. And you are going to enjoy yourself.” Susannah’s voice contained a note of exasperation. “I’ll not have you telling your friends in New Orleans that we don’t know anything about entertainment.”
Jeremiah grunted. “I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed myself more than the past months.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Judah shifted slightly. “But if you truly want to be a landowner, you should consider evenings like this one to be part of your duties. You never can tell who you will meet and what you will learn.”
“It’s not like this is my first dinner party.”
“Excellent.” Susannah patted his knee. “Then we won’t have to worry about your ability to make civilized conversation.”
“I have to talk, too? I thought all I had to do was eat.”
Their laughter filled the carriage as they pulled up at the Sheffields’ home. Jeremiah exited the carriage first and offered his hand to Susannah. Then he waited patiently as Judah maneuvered his crutches. This was Judah’s first party since coming back to Natchez. Jeremiah would have to watch out for his friend in the crowd.
Torches cast flickering light on the sidewalk leading to the graceful mansion. As they entered through the double doors, unobtrusive slaves took their wraps and disappeared. Jeremiah followed Susannah and Judah to the older couple who were waiting to welcome their guests. The Sheffields were typical hosts—well dressed, charming, wealthy. He exchanged greetings with them and walked into the parlor to meet the other guests.
These were the cream of Natchez society, the simpering debutantes and cosseted sons who would eventually lead the Mississippi territory into its future as a state. Lord, help them all. They made him feel old.
Susannah introduced him to several young women, but he forgot the previous girl’s name as soon as the next one was brought forward. Some were prettier than others, some more graceful, but not one of them stirred the slightest bit of interest.
The room was beginning to grow crowded, and Jeremiah pulled at the starched collar that grew scratchier with each passing minute. Would they never sit down to their meal?
He glanced toward the door as another guest entered, her black dress in sharp contrast to all the other girls in the room. Alexandra.
She hesitated a moment, her dark eyes scanning the guests. When her gaze met his, something clicked in his mind, like a bolt being shot home. Or was something inside him being unbolted?
His mind went back to the first time he’d seen Alexandra. Her bravery had touched him then, and he had enjoyed being able to help her. But then he’d seen her in a different light, a more coquettish side of her which he found hard and unattractive. Which one was the real Alexandra?
He had to know the answer. He stepped forward, holding her gaze, trying to read the thoughts in her head. Those eyes of hers—soft as velvet and endless as the night sky—spoke to him. In them he read sadness and fear. She looked so lost for a moment, rousing his desire to rescue her once more.
Before he reached her side, it was gone. The connection between them was broken by the arrival of Lowell Sheffield at her side. Jeremiah watched as the other man, much more charming and urbane than he would ever be, bent over her hand and kissed it before tucking it into the crook of his elbow. He acted more like a suitor than a friend. His possessive attitude made Jeremiah’s jaw clench, but he knew he couldn’t pull her away from her escort without making a scene.
“So it really is Alexandra Lewis.” A tall blond girl he was probably supposed to remember was standing next to him. “I couldn’t believe it when Mrs. Sheffield said she would be attending tonight, but there she is. As bold as Jezebel.”
Before he could decide whether or not to ask her what she meant, dinner was announced and another young man elbowed himself between them. “Miss Montgomery, I would be honored if you would allow me to escort you to the dining room.”
Jeremiah bowed and left the two of them, going in search of the couple who had brought him here. He was going to wring a promise from Susannah never again to accept an invitation on his behalf. He would much rather spend the evening at home with a good book. Or even a bad one. Either way, the “conversation” would be more intelligent than what he was experiencing now.
As much as she had looked forward to this evening, all Alexandra could think of was escape. She smiled at Lowell and allowed him to monopolize her attention. Obtaining his offer of marriage was her goal, after all.
She glanced at him and wondered again why he no longer seemed appealing. He was handsome, rich, and kind, three things she valued most highly.
Lowell caught her staring and tilted his head toward hers. “What has put that frown between your eyes? Is something wrong with your food?”
“What?”
She looked down at the untouched plate. “Oh no, of course not. The food is delicious.” To prove the point she picked up her fork and speared a long bean, raising it to her mouth and nibbling at it in spite of the unsettled feeling in her stomach.
“Then it must be my presence that has put that sour look on your face.”
“I apologize for my manners, Mr. Sheffield.”
“Lowell, remember?”
“I apologize, Lowell. You must think my parents raised a very ungrateful child.” She put down her fork and reached for her goblet. She lifted the crystal to her mouth and cool water rushed down her throat. She hoped it would settle her stomach, a stomach that had been churning since she realized that Dorcas Montgomery of Nashville was attending the party. Dorcas was the surprise Lowell had promised her.
A scornful smile turned up the corners of her lips. Some surprise. A friend from Nashville and one who knew the truth about her father’s death. Would Dorcas share her knowledge with the Sheffields? She glanced down the table at the willowy blond. At least Dorcas was not one of the ones who had shunned her and her mother. Maybe her secret was safe.
“Not at all.” He took the goblet of water from her hand and returned it to the table. “I think you are worried about something. Please trust me enough to tell me what is wrong.”
“It’s nothing.” She grasped for an excuse that would satisfy him. “I’m a little worried about my mother. She is so sad in the evenings since Papa…died.”
Lowell took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “Your concern does you credit. You have a woman’s tender heart.”
Shame washed through her at his words. If only he knew how deceitful she really was. She had thought of her mother some this evening, but much more of her attention had gone to the girl sitting a few chairs down from them. “How do you know Dorcas?”
“My father and her father have done business in the past.” He nodded toward Dorcas. “You probably know her family grows tobacco, and I’m sure you’ve heard how prices have fallen since the end of the war. Mr. Montgomery is thinking of trying to switch over to cotton. He wanted to purchase some of our seed and get my father’s opinion on his chances of success. When we got ready to return, Ma asked Dorcas to come with us.”
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