Counterfeit Courtship

by Christina Miller

  He stopped the sentence cold and moved to the east window. Something nagged at his mind, just beyond his grasp, giving him the sense that he was on the verge of making a big mistake. He was overlooking some fact, some need. Everything in his life had changed in the past forty-eight hours. Unfamiliar emotions had assaulted him. He felt so unstable now, he had to collect his thoughts and discover what his subconscious mind was telling him before he could answer Noreen. On occasion, he’d felt this way during battle, and he’d always been glad he’d heeded the silent warning.

  He turned to face his stepmother. “Please excuse me for a moment. I just realized I need to check something. I’ll be right back.”

  Graham fled to the stable, praying silently that the two women would stay in the house until he had things sorted out in his mind. He’d spoken truth when he said he had to check something. He needed to check this strange, unrelenting sense of foreboding.

  Inside the stable, he grabbed Dixie’s brush and ran it down her back and neck. How had things gotten so mixed up since he came home? The methodic strokes helped him clear his mind and sort through his jumbled thoughts. “God, help me to see what I’m missing here. I don’t want to do something stupid.”

  It was time to look at the situation objectively, as he had when forming battle plans. First, it was true that Graham entered into the “courtship” agreement to keep all the Natchez girls at bay. And although Ellie didn’t know it, he’d secretly vowed years ago to help her whenever she needed it. But her need had now become much deeper, with Fitzwald acting as if he had no sense.

  Second, as the temporary head of the family until Father recovered, Graham had the responsibility of providing for Noreen and Betsy.

  Father couldn’t be injured too badly, since it seemed he was able to travel alone. However, he may not be well enough to work and earn a living for them for several weeks or even months. And he was sure to have little or no money since his army pay, like Graham’s, had been in now-worthless Confederate bills.

  Therefore, Graham couldn’t think of courtship or marriage now. But if he admitted that to Noreen and told her his courtship with Ellie was a ruse, she’d demand to know why. No matter what he’d tell her, she’d surmise that he couldn’t support a wife because what little money he had would barely be enough to take care of her and Betsy. She had no way of knowing he didn’t even have that much. He could never let Noreen think she was a burden to him. Better to let her assume he’d received enough pay to keep them comfortable.

  Graham gave silent thanks to God that he had been able to change some Confederate money into gold last fall. He had only a double-eagle coin left, but if asked, he could honestly tell Noreen that he had some gold. Even though it was a mere twenty dollars.

  It looked as if his future continued to be written in stone, just as it had been his whole life. It was time to face facts. What God meant to happen would happen, and that apparently included taking a certain blond-haired lady to River Bluff Hall. In her uncle’s carriage, pulled by her uncle’s horses.

  It also included a temporary, make-believe romance with the woman he’d once hoped to marry. He had to do it, had no other choice. And Ellie was right—it would keep Susanna Martin and her gaggle of women away. At least he had that small comfort.

  Women. Ellie’s uncle seemed smarter than Graham, remaining a bachelor all these years and never courting at all, as far as Graham knew. The question in his mind now was whether he was smart enough to keep a distance that would protect his heart.

  Smart or not, he had to do it. Her refusal of him eight years ago had driven him from his home, his family, his legacy of becoming the head of Ashland Place. Coming home, he’d found in Ellie the same sweet, pretty girl he’d once loved, but now she’d matured into a generous, caring woman. If she rejected him again, he’d have no means of escape—at least until Father got home and got well. A Southern gentleman didn’t leave an elderly woman and a baby to fend for themselves.

  Graham set aside the currycomb and made for the house. Following the chattering voices of the women and the baby, he found them puttering in the kitchen dependency.

  If he had to endure Ellie’s company, he at least needed to exert some control over her wild ideas, as a courting man should for his intended. Maybe that’s where he’d gone wrong the other time.

  As he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, he caught a snippet of Ellie’s muffled conversation. “I’ve heard about the parties and picnics planned for Graham too. I’ve figured out a way for us to miss at least some of them.”

  Graham leaned against the brick wall. Another plan. This woman was harder to manage than a whole platoon of new recruits. Maybe he was foolish to think that would ever change. But he was committed to taking care of all these females until Father could take over the responsibility. Dear God, please help me find him—today.

  * * *

  “Graham Talbot sure knows how to make a girl wish she’d never agreed to help him.” With a few minutes to visit with her uncle before she needed to leave with Graham, Ellie leaned back in the sewing rocker and debated how much to say. Something about her arrangement with Graham bothered her, but she wasn’t sure what. Her uncle’s mind seemed sharp this morning, so perhaps he would have some good advice. Rocking hard in the armless chair in a most unladylike manner, she decided to tell him everything and get his opinion.

  “Made you mad, did he?”

  “Not exactly mad, but he doesn’t appreciate my help.”

  Uncle Amos smoothed down his bushy white beard. “A man doesn’t like to depend on a woman for a ride.”

  “It wasn’t about the horses and carriage. I had a great idea to help him out of a big problem, but instead of thanking me, he seems to resent it. Then this morning, as we were discussing his father and how I could help find him, Graham suddenly excused himself and dashed out to the stable.”

  Uncle Amos grunted. “That’s what a man does when he needs some thinking time.” Calm as always, her uncle used his clumsy left hand to drag the comb through his bedraggled-looking hair. He succeeded in making it look even worse. “Give him some grace. He’s been through a lot.”

  For once, Uncle Amos didn’t understand at all. Why did he have to choose this day to side with someone other than Ellie for the first time? She bounded to her feet, glad for a chance to do something other than sit there and take out her frustration on the rocker. “I’m getting my scissors. You need a haircut.”

  “No, no! It’s just now growing out from the last time you cut it.”

  “Let me even it up then.”

  “Get Lilah May to do it. I need you to do more important things.”

  He was humoring her as always. “She’s making your breakfast. That’s important, isn’t it?”

  Her uncle lifted his head and shoulders from the pillows he was propped up against, as if trying to see out the door, then leaned back again. “Tell me more about Graham before she gets here. What did you try to help him with?”

  Ellie paced to the window, looking for Graham, then returned to the rocker. She raised the back of her hoops so she could ease herself onto the chair. “He’s in turmoil. He says his money, his plantation and his citizenship are all gone, and he has nothing left.”

  “He’s right.”

  “You should have seen how the girls acted at Miss Ophelia’s party. Every unattached woman of marrying age in Natchez is chasing him.”

  He pointed the index finger of his left hand at her. “All but one.”

  “Yes, but I’m the one who caught him!”

  Uncle Amos perked up at that. “You’re courting with him? This soon?”

  Ellie shifted in her chair. Why must he have that look of joy on his face? She was going to have to disappoint him as she had eight years ago, when he’d guessed that Graham had proposed. Might as well get it over with now. “We’re pretendin
g to court.”

  He slumped back down. “How and why does one pretend to court?”

  “Why? Because we both need protection from unwanted attention. You know how many men come calling here. And I’m protecting him from all those women.”

  “By telling lies?”

  “We didn’t lie. Not once. We merely let people draw their own conclusions.”

  “Including Miss Ophelia?”

  His stern expression made her drop her gaze to the floor. Apparently, his apoplexy hadn’t hampered his protectiveness of Miss Ophelia. “Including her.”

  He let out a puff of air. “My other question—how do you pretend to court?”

  “Well, it’s so new, we haven’t worked out all the details yet. We went to the party together, and today we’ll go to River Bluff Hall, as you and I discussed earlier this morning.”

  “What else?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever courting couples do.” She hesitated. “With the war over, people are starting to have parties and dances and picnics again. So I suppose we’ll go to some of them together. What else do you think we should do?”

  “Courting involves more than where you go. You get to know each other, find out whether you get along well enough to marry.” Uncle Amos gazed out the window, a faraway look on his face. “Or you might find out whether you care about each other enough to take a risk with your love.”

  Ellie had no words. Where had all this wisdom about love come from? Her bachelor uncle, who everyone said had been the beau of Natchez when he was young, had no experience with romance as far as she knew. Could he know what he was talking about? Had he learned this by watching others?

  And was he right?

  If only Mother were still here to answer all her questions.

  But if Mother were here, everything would be different. If she had lived, Ellie would have stayed in New Orleans and somehow taken care of her. She never would have known Graham, never would have heard his heartbreakingly sweet proposal. And her fear of marriage, her fear of depending on a man to provide for her, never would have forced her to refuse him...

  Uncle Amos turned his face from the window—and his mind from the past, so it seemed. “I don’t like this, Ellie. Somebody’s going to get hurt. I think it’s going to be you.”

  “Me?” Ellie pointed to herself. “How am I going to get hurt?”

  “It sometimes happens that way. When a man or woman pretends to be in love, love often comes unexpected, unwanted. The game turns into reality, but the falsehood gets its revenge. Love comes to only one. The other gets hurt.”

  A cold chill crept through her, but she tried to laugh it off. “That won’t happen.”

  “You can’t be sure.”

  “I am sure. The more I help him, the more he pushes me away. He’d rather have nothing to do with me.”

  “Don’t believe it.”

  “I do. I know it’s true.”

  “How long do you intend to continue this fabricated courtship?” He dropped his voice. “This false promise?”

  False promise? “I didn’t think of it that way...”

  “It’s always a mistake to play around with love. But you’re old enough to make your decisions. Please promise me that, when one of you begins to take this joke seriously, you’ll put a stop to the game.” His voice grew more tender. “Hearts broken carelessly can’t always be mended.”

  What if he was right? Could she ever care for Graham? Could he care for her? She needed the answer, because if love had a chance of blossoming between them, or in the heart of only one or the other, that would change everything. If love was even a remote possibility, she couldn’t follow through with this scheme.

  She’d wanted her uncle’s opinion, and she’d surely gotten it. She clasped his hand. “If either of us begins to take the game seriously, I will call it off. I promise.”

  “That’s good enough. Just one more thing. Lilah May!” He leaned forward in bed and shouted in the loudest voice Ellie had heard him use since he took ill.

  Within moments, Lilah May dashed into the bedroom, her face damp as if from exertion. “What’s the matter? You ain’t never yelled at me like that before.”

  “I want you to take this girl to her room and have a long talk with her—the talk her mother would give her if she were still alive.”

  Lilah May’s eyes narrowed. “You mean the courtin’ talk?”

  “Uncle, that’s not necessary—”

  “It is. Lilah May knows more about love than both of us put together. If you’re going through with this, I want you to tell her everything you just told me.” He pointed his finger at her again. “And anything else you might have left out. Does that suit you, Lilah May?”

  “Suits me fine. I got a thing or two I been wanting to explain to her since the day the colonel got home.”

  She must have seen Ellie riding through the yard with Graham, putting on that show for Susanna and her cronies.

  Could Lilah May be an expert on romance? Her features had softened when Uncle Amos mentioned love. But Ellie had never seen her maid look at a man that way.

  As she thought about it, she remembered hearing rumors about a husband who had died before Ellie came to Natchez. She hesitated. It may be true—Lilah May could have all the answers Ellie needed.

  She checked her timepiece. She had only a few minutes before Graham was to call. “Can we talk tomorrow afternoon instead? Graham won’t want to wait for me.”

  He nodded. “Be sure you do it tomorrow. And I’m glad you had word of James. I’ll pray you find him.”

  Ellie gave him a kiss on the cheek and excused herself to get her hat. In her room, she pondered her uncle’s words. If he was right about romance, then Ellie was wrong. But what could she do about it at this point? She could hardly spread the word that she’d called off the courtship two days after Graham came home.

  Besides, if she did, Graham would have one more reason to say she didn’t think things through before acting.

  Surely Uncle’s poor health clouded his judgment. How could the courtship ruse not work? She had no feelings for Graham, and he’d made it clear he had none left for her. In a way, that was sad.

  Graham clearly didn’t like the courtship idea. Neither did Uncle Amos, and she was pretty sure she knew what Lilah May would have to say about it. The problem was knowing her own mind in the matter.

  A bachelor soldier, a bachelor uncle and a woman who may have been in love and married years ago—could she trust their opinions? But who else did she have to ask? Susanna? Never.

  Sugar howled out her “my friend is here” bark as Graham, dressed in his uniform, crossed the side yard to her home. Ellie hastened to don her favorite hat, a sky-blue crepe bonnet that matched her dress and had a straw-colored feather and darker blue velvet loops. Graham’s father had once remarked about how good the color looked on her.

  If all went as planned, they would see the elder Mister Talbot today. Graham hadn’t yet seemed to admit that his father might not be well. Illness, injury—it was hard telling what they would see if they found him. Ellie closed her eyes and whispered a prayer for the kind man. Her problems and Graham’s would have to wait until they found Mister Talbot and discovered his condition.

  Minutes later, passing Sugar in the downstairs hall, Ellie felt a twinge of regret for not paying more attention to the poor dog yesterday. On impulse, she snapped the leash onto Sugar’s collar and called up the stairs to let Lilah May know she was taking the dog along.

  What would her maid tell her about love tomorrow, and what would she think of their imaginary courtship? Would she say Ellie invited heartache, either for herself or Graham? Uncle Amos’s words still rang in her ears until she decided to stop paying them any mind, at least for today.

  Her uncle’s reaction, especially his in
sight, had certainly surprised her, but she had a feeling she’d be even more astounded once she’d had her talk with Lilah May.

  Chapter Nine

  Graham had wished Ellie would stay home today, it was true. But now, as she sat next to him in the carriage, taking his breath in her blue dress and hat, she made him wish it twice as much. Why did she have to be so pretty? Blue-eyed girls with no intention of marrying should never wear blue hats that made the sky pale in comparison to their eyes.

  On the other hand, who said he couldn’t enjoy her company—and her beauty—as they traveled?

  Heading south on Commerce Street, they met a half dozen Union soldiers on horseback, eyeing Graham and his Confederate grays. He held the gaze of each man as they passed, every instinct still honed to treat them as the enemy. When the troops turned onto Orleans Street, Graham relaxed a bit and realized his fists were clamped around the reins and his teeth clenched. With effort, he refrained from looking over his shoulder at the men. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to seeing Yankees in Natchez.”

  “I admit they used to affect me the same way. But since the fall of Vicksburg, when the federal troops occupied Natchez, we’ve all become accustomed to seeing Union soldiers in the streets.”

  He hesitated, continuing to fight against the tension that kept trying to force its way into him. “Noreen tells me you’re doing a great job of running the plantation,” he said, trying to focus on something other than those Yankees.

  “I’ve mostly been doing what Uncle Amos taught me through the years.” Ellie’s voice brightened as if she was trying to help him relax. “But I think we need some new methods. I have twenty-five hundred acres in cotton and, as you’ve seen, not enough workers to weed and harvest it.”

  “Pardon me for asking, but how do you plan to get that crop out of the field?”

  “I don’t have a plan yet. Nor do I have a plan for paying this loan or getting last year’s cotton to market.” She paused. “I didn’t care for Robert Fitzwald, but at least when he was alive, I had a competent cotton broker. I know quite a bit about the market, but I have no experience dealing with buyers.”