“Late tonight, when all of them are asleep. If we burn down the house, he’ll have no choice but to leave. It’s his own fault. If he would only have agreed with us, we wouldn’t be forced to take such extreme measures.”
“Some people can’t help being stubborn.” Mr. Sheffield answered. “Just make sure you don’t get caught.”
“I won’t, Pa.”
Alexandra backed away from the window, a hand over her mouth. She wanted to march right into that study and tell both of the Sheffield men what she thought of their plans. But they would not listen. She could almost hear Lowell’s condescending tones as he sent her back to his mother. No one else would listen to her, either, not until it was too late. It would be just like what happened to Papa. She had come full circle.
Frustration made her want to stomp her foot. What could she do? Threaten them with exposure? End her betrothal before disaster struck? Or was there something else she could do? Some way to stop them from succeeding? An idea popped into her mind, but Alexandra rejected it. It was too daring, too risky. But it might be the only way to avert disaster.
The work he had accomplished today put him well ahead of his plans. Jeremiah was pleased. He was certain this season would be the best one ever at Magnolia Plantation, and with the steady increases in the price of cotton, all of his people should make a tidy profit. He put down the almanac he had been perusing, blew out the candle on his bedside table, and pulled the quilt up to his chin.
Sleep eluded him as he considered the next plan he wanted to implement. He could just imagine what the townspeople would say if they knew he planned to turn his plantation into an orphanage. But it was a dream God had given him, and now he had the perfect place to take care of children who would otherwise have nothing. He could almost hear their shouts and laughter as the orphans played and worked together. He would build a large classroom in the second floor of the main house, and he would hire a tutor or two to help with the instruction.
Excitement coursed through Jeremiah as he dreamed of his plans. He turned over and plumped his pillow before settling back down against it. Thanking God once again for the bounty, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.
The noise that woke him seemed to be an echo from his dreams. But then he heard it again—the whinny of a horse outside. The newly finished corral was too far from the house for him to hear those horses. He had a visitor. And most likely a visitor bent on mischief.
Jeremiah pushed the covers back and reached for his clothes. He dressed quickly and slipped out of the bedroom. He couldn’t see much as he negotiated the staircase. Clouds had appeared in the sky as the sun set this evening, and now they played hide-and-seek with the moon. But he could hear the scrape of a window being raised. He followed the sound into the parlor at the same time as a shadowy figure stepped through and entered the room.
Instinct took over, and he launched himself at the miscreant, tackling him before he could use whatever weapon he held. His aim was true. His head contacted the intruder’s torso at the waist and both of them went down in a tangle of skirts.
Skirts? Jeremiah’s startled gaze fell on a delicate face ringed by dark curls. “Alexandra?” He rolled off her and bounded to his feet. “What is the meaning of this?”
She moaned and rolled into a ball.
Anger immediately turned into concern. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” Her answer was muffled but emphatic.
“Have you become a burglar?” Another thought occurred to him. “Or are you so enamored of me that you cannot help yourself?”
Alexandra hissed and pulled herself into a sitting position. Cold moonlight illuminated her disdain. “Of course not. I came to warn you.”
Jeremiah raised his eyebrows at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Warn me? In the middle of the night? And of what? And sneaking around like some kind of thief…whatever the warning is, could you not have sent me a message?” He held out a hand to help her rise. “You’re not carrying a weapon, are you?”
After a slight hesitation she put her hand in his. “Please try to refrain from idiotic questions. This is a serious matter.”
Her glare made him grin. Now that she was on her feet, only a hairsbreadth separated them. Her perfume seemed to surround both of them. Suddenly his questions disappeared. All he could think of was how Alexandra reminded him of a ruffled kitten, soft and prickly and oh so appealing.
He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her until the glare in her eyes was replaced by a much more intimate look. What an inappropriate thought! It must be the enveloping darkness leading his mind down the wrong path.
Jeremiah backed away and looked toward the mantel for a tinderbox. “Let’s get a little light in here.”
“No!” She put her hand on his arm. “If you do, they might see us.”
“Who?” He looked out of the window she had just come through. “What are you talking about, Alexandra?”
“Lowell. He and some of the other planters are coming over here tonight to set your house on fire. I heard them talking this afternoon. They said it’s the only way to control you.”
It took him a moment to absorb the meaning of her words. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “What are we going to do?”
Jeremiah caught her chin between his thumb and fore-finger. She was so intent on helping him, but he could not allow her to put herself in danger. “We are not going to do anything. You are going to go back home, climb into your bed, and forget all about my problems. I will handle Lowell Sheffield.”
When she opened her mouth to object, he swooped down and captured her lips with his own. He knew he shouldn’t do it, knew he would regret it, but he couldn’t resist the temptation. He would never again find himself alone with Alexandra.
For a brief instant, surprise held her still, but then she melted into him. It was the most miraculous thing he had ever experienced. The very air around them seemed to crackle with the emotions unleashed by their embrace.
It took him a moment to realize the crackling noise was coming from outside. He looked out of the window and saw gray smoke curling toward the house. Fear struck him like a bolt of lightning. “They must have set the hay barn on fire.”
Jeremiah released her and ran out to the front porch. He could hear them now, whooping and hollering like a band of Indian warriors. He couldn’t see the faces of the men as they rode off into the night, but he would worry about their identities later. For now, he had enough problems on his hands.
He prayed no one would get hurt as he rushed toward the well and released the bucket. It filled quickly, and he hoisted it upward. Pulling it from its hook, he ran toward the barn and tossed the water at the hungry flames. Then back to the well to start all over again.
Alexandra ran to the cast-iron bell on the far side of the house and jerked on its rope to set it ringing. The sound alerted the men and women who worked for him, and he soon found himself surrounded by eager hands. They formed a line from the well to the barn and passed bucket after bucket along. Jeremiah had no idea how long it took before the flames began to die back. He only knew that his hands were blistered and his shoulders ached.
As the sun began to rise in the eastern sky, the extent of the damage became obvious. He had lost the hay barn and the gin, and the weeds in one of the smaller fields had been scorched. He knew it could have been much worse. Would have been if not for the daring of a brave young woman.
He looked around until he spotted her helping some of the women and children search for hot cinders. Her dark hair cascaded around her shoulders, which drooped from exhaustion. Jeremiah thought she had never looked more beautiful.
He accepted a cup of cool water from a young girl and drank deeply. It tasted as sweet as honey to his parched lips. Taking a second cup from her, he strode to Alexandra. “It’s time for you to stop.” He thrust the cup toward her. “You’ve done more than enough.”
She looked up at him, her face streaked wit
h soot. “I’m so sorry, Jeremiah. I wish I’d gotten here sooner.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “If not for you, I would have lost the whole place. And perhaps my life. You don’t know how much I appreciate your willingness to put your reputation at risk by coming to warn me.”
An odd look crossed her face. She took the cup and sipped from it. “God would not let me do any less.”
Her words nearly brought him to his knees. He could not believe how badly he had misjudged this woman. The immature, spoiled debutante was an illusion. Alexandra Lewis was a woman of excellence. She epitomized all the qualities of the perfect helpmeet—intelligence, beauty, and faithfulness. Never mind her singed clothing and mussed hair, Jeremiah could not imagine any woman being more beautiful than Alexandra. Or more unattainable.
He clamped his jaws together. He’d better get her out of here right now before he decided he couldn’t let her leave at all. Jeremiah turned away and waved to Oren. “See to it Miss Lewis gets home safely.”
He walked away without a backward glance. She was not his to claim. She was betrothed to another.
Chapter 28
Wake up.” An unseen hand pulled back her quilt, and cool air swept over Alexandra. It was like being doused in cold water. Alexandra sat up and rubbed at her eyes.
“Mama?” She stared at the woman standing next to her bed, trying to sort through the fog of her tired mind. “What’s wrong?”
“Your betrothed is downstairs demanding to see you right away.”
“Lowell is here?” She pushed herself out of the bed, groaning when her aching feet hit the floor. She felt as though she’d been beaten. Every muscle in her body screamed abuse.
“Yes.” Her mother pulled Alexandra’s gown over her head and pushed her into a fresh petticoat. “Your grandmother sent me up here to help you get dressed, but we must hurry.”
The clothes she had worn yesterday were piled in a corner of the room, a malodorous heap she would never again wear. Her mother tossed a questioning glance her way, but Alexandra had nothing to say. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened last night. At least not until she’d had a chance to decide how to explain her actions.
With a sigh, her mother dragged a dress from her trunk, shaking it to release the wrinkles and hoisting it up over Alexandra’s head.
As limp as a rag, Alexandra let her mother lace up the back of her dress and push her down onto the stool in front of her dressing table. “Ouch! Mama, slow down. What is so important?”
Her mother’s mouth dropped open. “What’s so important? Didn’t you hear me? Lowell wants to see you right away.”
Alexandra didn’t protest further. Jemma came in and dressed her hair. Alexandra was glad she had taken time to wash it out before climbing into bed last night. Even though it meant more tangles now, at least it no longer smelled of smoke. She endured the pulling and tugging of the brush as she considered what to say to Lowell. It was a good thing he was here so early. They could straighten out a few things right away.
“He’s waiting for you in your grandfather’s study.” Mama led her downstairs and waved a hand in that direction. “Don’t forget how much we’re counting on him.”
Alexandra pushed open the door, surprised to see Lowell ensconced behind her grandfather’s desk. She let his effrontery slide, however. They had more important things to discuss.
“It’s high time you got down here.” Lowell’s handsome face was a harsh mask. “Once we’re married, I don’t expect you to lie about in your bedchamber until mid-afternoon.”
Alexandra marched to the front of the desk and stared down at him. “Is that so? Well, I have a thing—”
He interrupted her words. “Sit down. The reason I’m here is because I’ve received a report that you were seen coming home alone in another man’s carriage, and I want an explanation.”
Even if she had wanted to sit, Alexandra didn’t think her rigid legs would allow it. She was appalled. “I’ll stand, thank you. And as to my whereabouts, that should concern you since it’s your fault I was not at home.”
He stood up and came around to the front of the desk. “I’m listening.” He took a stance directly in front of her, his hazel eyes as hard as marble.
Alexandra refused to back down in the face of his anger. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “I was at Magnolia Plantation helping Jeremiah LeGrand put out the fire you and your cronies started.”
Lowell’s face paled as his expression changed from anger to shock. “Are you telling me you spent the night alone with an unmarried man?”
Jeremiah’s embrace flashed through her mind. But she pushed it away. She had not gone to his house for that reason. “You are not listening to me, Lowell. I know you set that fire.”
He snorted. “Of course I did, and I’m not ashamed to admit it to you, as I know you would not betray me. LeGrand needed to learn a lesson. The real question here is whether or not I should end our betrothal.”
Alexandra drew herself up, ignoring the tender muscles in her back. “In that case, you have nothing to be concerned about. I won’t marry you even if it means I have to scrub floors for the rest of my life.”
Lowell’s head snapped back as if she’d struck him. “You can’t mean that. Not after my family supported you in spite of the scandal surrounding your father.”
Alexandra raised her chin defiantly. “I apologize for any distress our association may have caused, but I promise you we will never be married. And if it were up to me, you would be facing the sheriff right now on a charge of arson.” She sailed to the far side of the room, buoyed by the peace and strength surrounding her. “I’ll be happy to call for your horse.”
“I can’t believe it.” Lowell’s voice reflected his shock as he stumbled across the room.
Alexandra almost felt sorry for him. He probably had never dreamed anyone would flout his family’s money and influence.
At one time, he would have been right, but that time was behind her. Now she followed a Higher Power. She would rest in the knowledge God loved her and had a wonderful plan for her future.
Chapter 29
Jeremiah knocked on the Sheffields’ front door and waited for it to swing open. The tall, thin, black man who opened the door accepted his card and left Jeremiah in the hallway. A clock ticked the minutes away while he waited.
Finally the black man returned. “Right this way, Master LeGrand.”
Jeremiah followed him to a large library where both Sheffield and his son sat. After the greetings, he was invited to take a seat.
“Have you reconsidered your position, Mr. LeGrand?” Lowell sprawled across a horsehair sofa.
“Not at all.” Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed, and he reached for the man’s right hand. “Is that a burn?”
Lowell jerked his hand away. “I burned myself putting a log on the fire this morning.”
Jeremiah nodded and turned to his father. “I’m sure you understand that I can ruin your family if I go to the sheriff. While I may not have seen exactly who was at my house last night, after I report the conversation we had, he will be looking at you and your son very closely for evidence of wrongdoing.”
Father and son exchanged a glance. “What do you want?” Mr. Sheffield was the one to ask the question.
“I want a formal, written confession from your son. Rest assured that it will never see the light of day as long as nothing like this ever happens again.”
Mr. Sheffield opened a drawer in front of him and pulled out a piece of stationery that he shoved toward his son.
“Pa! You know the sheriff won’t listen to the likes of him.”
“That may be true, Lowell, but I told you not to get caught. You’re too hotheaded, too certain your good looks and connections will get you free of any problems. That little Lewis gal knows it, too. That’s probably why she broke off your engagement. You should be glad Mr. LeGrand is giving you this chance. I would hate for a son of mine to risk being branded a criminal.”
>
Jeremiah kept his gaze fixed on an intricate silver candelabrum, but his mind was whirling. Alexandra had ended her betrothal? Was it because of last night? Because of their embrace? His heart thudded in his chest. Suddenly the confession young Sheffield was penning seemed insignificant.
Mr. Sheffield continued to harangue his son, recounting every failure and setback in Lowell’s life. By the time Lowell was done writing, Jeremiah almost felt sorry for him. But then he looked at the blisters on his own hands. He had to protect himself and those who depended on him.
Lowell signed the sheet with a flourish and handed it to Jeremiah, who glanced at it briefly before folding the document and placing it in his coat pocket. “Thank you, gentlemen.” He stood up. “I’ll find my own way out.”
He flung himself onto the back of his horse and galloped away from the Sheffields’ home as though enemy soldiers were chasing him. All he could think of was seeing Alexandra. He had to find out why she had ended her engagement. He had to know if he had a chance.
Alexandra sat on the piano bench and stared blindly at the sheet music perched in front of her. She had told her family her marriage plans had been cancelled, but she had not offered any reason.
Grand-mère had blasted her with threats, but when Alexandra refused to be cowered, she had finally given up and retired to her bedroom. Aunt Patricia and Uncle John had congratulated her on standing her ground and told her they would help if she needed it. Mama had cried a little, but then she had hugged Alexandra and confessed that Lowell was a bit overbearing. Cousin Percival harrumphed twice and toddled off.
Now she sought time alone to gather her thoughts and seek God’s guidance.
“Your hands must not be as sore as mine if you can play a song.” The deep drawl made her gasp.
The piano bench squeaked as she pivoted.
There he stood, tall as a cedar and immovable as stone. A lock of his thick hair had drifted across his forehead, and her fingers longed to comb it back. His blue eyes burned with the heat of summer, igniting an answering fire in her soul.
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