by Judith Pella
“Gentlemen,” he announced, trying not to feel hemmed in by the statement, “I believe this dance is mine.”
Virginia smiled amicably at the others and extended her arm to James. “I’ll see what I can do about the next dance,” she flirted openly, not noticing the scowl on James’ face.
“You shouldn’t encourage them,” he said, leading her to join the others.
“I’m not an engaged woman,” she answered coyly and added with a smile, “at least not yet. I suppose we could rectify that.”
Before James could answer she was swept into a chain of feminine dancers, while he went in the opposite direction in a circle of men. It would take several moments before they’d come back around to dance with each other again. He didn’t mind the lapse at all, and even less so when the wreathing chain of men and women stopped and Carolina reached out to take him as her partner. But James hesitated slightly, fearing to allow himself to fully enjoy the moment.
“Step it up, Jimmy, we’re being bested by the others,” she laughed and twirled around him, moving first in front and then behind in cadence with the music.
James swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on the dance.
“You look like you’ve been sucking persimmons,” Carolina whispered when the dance brought them cheek to cheek.
James laughed at this, and the shock seemed to wear off a bit. “I just wasn’t expecting to get to dance with you this early on. You make a fetching picture tonight, and I feel very honored to—”
“Oh, be done with it, James,” Carolina frowned. “I’m not a child anymore. I know you’d rather be dancing with Virginia. Don’t worry. They’ll circle you back around before you know it.”
Before he could answer, Carolina was whirled to the next partner, and James received the thick-waisted Kate Milford. It went on like that until James had experienced eight such partners before Virginia was on his arm again.
“My, but this is fun,” she said in complete delight.
“I was thinking it’s rather like being the grain at a mill.”
“Why, James Baldwin, what a thing to say!” She pretended to be offended with his observation, but he saw through her pretense.
“Well, if you’d had your feet ground into the floor as many times as I have, you’d feel the same way.”
Virginia laughed and the sound rose up lyrically against his ear. The music ended, leaving the breathless couples clinging to each other’s arms for only a heartbeat before sedately backing away.
“Mother has a wonderful recipe for party punch. Would you like to partake?”
“I think it might do me well at that,” James replied, taking Virginia’s arm. “You look very lovely. That shade of pink becomes you.”
“This little old thing?” she drawled rather seductively.
James laughed as he was intended to do. He knew full well that Virginia had no doubt labored for weeks, maybe even months, to pick just the right shade of pink in the proper type of material for the most delightful style of gown.
“Mother insisted I wear something bright without upstaging Carolina. Of course, she’s still such a child with her silly notions of books and locomotives. It will truly be a chore for Mother to tame her down.”
“No doubt,” James said, barely breathing the words.
Virginia guided them to the refreshments and motioned the servant to bring two cups of punch.
James downed his drink quickly, hardly tasting the contents. “It’s good,” he said and gestured for another.
“Oh, look,” Virginia squealed in delight, “Naomi’s cranberry tarts. She makes these with dried berries and fresh cream. You simply must try one.”
“Maybe later,” James answered, replacing yet another empty cup on the servant’s tray. “Is there anything stronger than this to drink?”
“Well, of course,” Virginia purred. “Papa has mint juleps with the finest French brandy and fresh pineapple.”
“Not to cast dispersion on your mother’s punch, but I believe I’ll procure one with haste.”
“Let me,” Virginia said sweetly. “I’ll only be a moment.”
He watched her walk away and suddenly realized he was trembling. He looked past the pink swaying form to where Carolina laughed in the arms of the uniformed Daniel Armstrong. Glancing from one woman to the other, James suddenly wished he’d partaken of mint juleps earlier and left the lighter stuff to someone else.
Turning away from both women, James put his mind on the feast at hand. Most of the third floor was devoted to the ballroom, and with the west end taken in dancing, the east end was reserved for refreshments. James actually felt hungry as he noted the succulent delicacies laid out for their consumption. He had just signaled a servant to prepare a plate for him when he noticed his father motioning to him from the far end of the table. He was with Joseph Adams, and James wasn’t surprised at the direction of his father’s comment.
“James, my boy, Adams and I were just discussing what a fine couple you and Virginia make. We’ve been rather surprised you two haven’t yet come forth with an announcement,” Leland pressed the issue without shame.
Joseph Adams smiled conspiratorially at James, leaving him with the feeling of being the one left out of the joke. Leland nudged James in the ribs before continuing. “I think you’d find this evening a fine time for such a . . . uh, undertaking.”
James shrugged, gave a noncommittal grin, and left their company as soon as he could. But as he considered his father’s words, he thought perhaps he ought to propose to Virginia just to get it over with. He was going to do it. He had to do it. Why wait any longer?
Then, as if in answer to his question, he spied from the corner of his eye a blurred vision of peach tulle. He cursed silently and went in search of his julep.
35
Discord
Carolina had enjoyed a dozen dances without so much as a pause to rest. The party was much more to her liking than she’d ever imagined possible. Her “nerves” had left her after that first reel and she was now feeling positively gay. It was already eleven o’clock. At midnight, they would bring out a huge birthday cake, and she would cut the first piece and receive birthday greetings and gifts from her guests. It was all very well planned out, and for once, Carolina was glad her mother had seen to every detail.
But she was too famished now to wait till then, so she allowed Daniel Armstrong to lead her from the dance floor to sample the delicacies on the refreshment table.
As she sat waiting for her partner to bring her a plate of goodies, she glanced across the room, aglow with pride. Her girlhood friends who were of age were there to share in the festivities, and for the first time in her life, Carolina didn’t feel outdone by them. Julia Cooper offered her a tiny wave from the arm of her husband but made no move to join Carolina. It didn’t matter. Julia and her husband, William, were to spend the night at Oakbridge, so there would be plenty of time for conversation later on.
Noting that Daniel had gotten involved in a conversation with a few other young men, Carolina rose to her feet and headed toward the group with the intention of expediting matters. The orchestra began a Chopin mazurka, and several groups of eight couples separated to begin the elaborate dance.
“Oh, Carolina, you look positively all grown up,” Mrs. Milford said, stopping her before she reached her destination. The woman lifted Carolina’s chin with her fleshy hand. “And your face is as smooth as an angel’s.”
Carolina thanked her, even though she wondered how many angels Lenore Milford had actually seen. The woman chatted on about inconsequential matters, unaware of Carolina’s growling stomach, until Margaret Adams appeared and questioned her daughter as to the whereabouts of Virginia.
“I haven’t seen her in some time,” Carolina admitted. Without realizing it, she scanned the room for James.
“If you see her, send her to me immediately,” Margaret said. Then as an afterthought she asked, “Have you been enjoying your party?”
“Ver
y much, Mother. You did a splendid job of arranging it. I’ve heard many people say so.”
“Indeed!” Lenore Milford chimed in. “And you must bathe this girl in buttermilk to render a complexion such as this. What is your secret, Margaret?”
With this chance, Carolina quickly moved away from the two older women and continued on her mission, reaching the table just as Burgess Milford was speaking.
“I say it’s a waste of time and money,” Milford said in between nursing a mint julep. “I don’t see the railroad as anything more than another newfangled contraption. Within another year or two, they’ll see how unmanageable it is and move on to something else. Besides, with the economy showing signs of decline, no one will want to risk their money in something as worthless as an iron horse.”
“I disagree, sir,” York Adams replied. “The railroad is the key to America’s future.”
“Some future,” Burgess said, answering the unspoken challenge in York’s tone. “I happen to know that already the Baltimore and Ohio is having to remake their westward line. They had planned to be at the Ohio River by this time, but one thing or another keeps falling apart on them, and they’ve failed to reach their goal. Now, as I hear it, they are facing bankruptcy due to costly masonry bridges and small profit rates.”
“That can’t be!” Carolina exclaimed, causing all of the men to stop in their conversation.
“I beg your pardon,” Burgess said indulgently. “This would not be a topic for a pretty little thing such as you to discuss. Especially on her birthday.”
Carolina glared at the man. “I am perfectly content to discuss this topic on my birthday or any other day. I happen to believe in the strength of the B&O. I think your figures are probably derived from those who have never desired to see the line succeed.”
“Now, Carolina,” York began, but she’d have no part of it.
“I’m serious. The Baltimore and Ohio has experienced its problems like any other line. Maybe more. When they lost Phineas Davis, they lost a competent engineer who had innovative thoughts on the future of the company. They have struggled with strap iron rails and even now are involved in a campaign to raise private funding to replace stretches of these poorer tracks with iron T-rails. True, the profit margins are poor, but they will increase when the line is moved west to the Ohio and brings in freight from the National Road.”
The men stared at her in complete surprise.
“My sister is quite an advocate of rail travel,” York offered by way of explanation.
“It does seem a bit unnatural that she would be so well versed in the operations of such a business,” said Daniel, not harshly but with obvious surprise.
“Why is that?” York questioned.
“She is a young woman, and it is inappropriate for her to partake in such a discussion,” Burgess said, eyeing Carolina with disdain. “I should say my sister Katy has been taught to keep her place in polite society.”
Carolina refused to relent. “I happen to have a father who believes a mind, whether it takes residence in the body of a male child or female, is worth utilizing to the maximum accountability. I enjoy discussions of the railroad. I am sorry if that is intimidating to . . .” she paused for emphasis, “polite society.”
“Well, I’ve never been so insulted before,” Burgess Milford said, sucking in his paunchy gut and throwing back the last of his drink. “You, young woman, should learn your place.”
“I have,” Carolina replied, so angry now she didn’t care if her rudeness was uncalled for. “I believe it to be on the board of one of the future railroads of America.”
“No board of directors would allow such a thing,” Burgess said with a laugh.
“And why not? If I have the knowledge of how to better direct the company, or if my insight into problems and profit losses is more beneficial than the opinion of another, male or female, would I not be the logical one to sit on that board?”
“Ludicrous! No man would listen to female advice unless it came in the form of suggestions for the draperies in the house or discussions on hostessing teas.”
Carolina ignored her brother’s reproachful frown. “And I, sir, wouldn’t listen to the advice of one such as yourself on the future of the railroad. The profit figures for passenger travel are up for this year, and while the freight figures are slightly reduced, they will pick up again in late summer when shipments of flour are moved to the East Coast. The railroad is not without its problems, the biggest, perhaps, being men such as yourself.”
“You, Miss Adams, should be put across the knee and spanked!” Milford raged, his face turning dark red from his embarrassment and anger.
York interceded. “You cannot speak thus of my sister, sir. I will not have it.”
“No one asked you, Adams. If your father and mother would have done a proper job by this child, there would be no need for me to speak of such things in the first place.”
“I will not allow you to besmirch the good name of my father!” York’s voice raised just as the orchestra reached the last note of the mazurka. All heads turned to see what the problem might be.
Carolina found herself in the middle of the two angry men. However, they were now hardly aware of her close proximity. York had already balled his hands into fists, and Burgess Milford had raised his hand to jab an accusing finger in the middle of York’s chest.
“You are a perfect example of where your father failed. I understand you were turned out by your university for disruptive behavior and ungentlemanly conduct.” He jabbed the finger again, only harder this time. “It seems to me you are the one besmirching your father’s good name.”
York swung at Milford, and in the next moment Carolina found herself pulled back by strong arms. Stumbling, she glanced upward to find James Baldwin holding her.
While Burgess Milford nursed his bruised jaw, two other men in the group were grabbing at York, who was poised for another blow. This encouraged two of York’s friends to join in the ruckus on his behalf. Several more blows were exchanged, and the table was bumped and dishes clattered and a few broke. It appeared as if the fight might rage out of proportion.
“Oh, stop!” Carolina shouted, but no one was listening to her now.
“Come on,” James whispered in her ear, pulling her with him through the crowd.
Tears poured from her eyes, blinding her as to where James led. She followed obediently, feeling terrible for what she had done.
“It’s all my fault . . . I never should have opened my mouth,” she choked out between sobs.
“No, you probably shouldn’t have, but then, Milford should have kept his mouth shut as well.”
Carolina allowed him to assist her down the back servant stairs. She had no idea what he had in mind, but at this point it didn’t matter. She only wished to be as far from the ruckus as possible.
She heard James tell Naomi as they passed through the kitchen that he was taking Miss Adams for some air in the gardens. He advised her then of the fight and directed her to tell Mrs. Adams where she could find her daughter. Naomi stared with disbelief at this information. After all, this was to be a perfect night of youthful enchantment, not a free-for-all brawl more common to taverns and back alleyways.
36
The Proposal
The night’s chilled air was mingled with the scent of lilacs and dwarf irises. A huge milky moon hung overhead in a star-filled sky, while lanterns stretched throughout the garden walkways to create an enchanting wonderland for courting lovers. Ignoring the two or three couples strolling about, James found an isolated bench where he and Carolina sat.
Crying softly into her hands, Carolina looked very young and very vulnerable. James reached out a hand to pat her shoulder but, thinking better of it, pulled back quickly. Instead, he took out a handkerchief from his waistcoat and offered it to her with the slightest brush on her arm.
“Oh, thank you,” she replied, her voice shaky. Her hand touched his only briefly during the exchange, but it was enoug
h to cause James to wince as if scalded. Much to his relief, Carolina was too busy dabbing her eyes to notice his reaction.
“I’ve totally ruined everything.” Carolina looked up mournfully at James, her eyes glistening in the moonlight with tears. “I didn’t mean to do it, but that man made me so angry.” She fell silent for a moment, then began again. “I don’t suppose you heard everything, but Mr. Milford was terribly negative about the railroad. I made mention of a few facts. . . .” She paused to look down at her hands. “Well, maybe more than a few facts. . . .” Her voice trailed off.
James watched her study her hands and the handkerchief she held. She looked so very forlorn. So very beautiful.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” James comforted. “Grown men argue and even draw guns on each other within the austere walls of Congress itself. A gentleman should know better than to take up offenses at a party, so rest assured it was not your fault.”
For a moment she seemed to forget her own woes. “They draw weapons on each other in Congress? Oh!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot. “And they’re chastising me for the unladylike things I do.” Anger seemed to have replaced her contrition, and she stood to her feet. “I have never been what my mother or society expects me to be. When they want blue, I give them green. When they say walk, I run. I’ve never been able to make myself over into their picture of perfection, but I have tried. Believe me, James, I have tried.”
“I believe you,” he said softly, wishing he could say more to help.
“I read my mother’s Lady’s Book and learn about the latest fashions and how to properly arrange flowers, but I find the whole thing monotonous and stifling. I’d much rather be reading the Niles Weekly Register or the American Railroad Journal.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” James said without thought.
Carolina looked at him rather surprised. “Why would you care? Virginia tells me you plan to leave here soon anyway. She says our tutoring days are to come to a close in order that you might give her more proper time and attention.”