Counterfeit Courtship

by Christina Miller

“I’m not so sure.” She turned her head, her gaze seemingly on the Queen Anne’s lace by the roadside. Was she wishing they were still children, picking wildflowers and having no cares? “Maybe I was wrong to start this imaginary courtship.”

  Her listless tone—one he’d never heard from her before—sent a jolt of fear through him. Thus far she’d fought her way through this mess like the bravest soldier. What had changed?

  “What did you start to say about Joseph earlier, when Sugar growled and interrupted you?”

  Now, what did that have to do with it? He considered brushing it off, but Joseph seemed to think he needed to deal with the issues right away. “Just that he thinks we should stop keeping secrets from each other.”

  Her eyes flew wide open, her distress spilling out like a waterfall. “Secrets?”

  Graham’s heart caught at her whispered word. “Joseph thinks I need to tell you that Leonard has threatened to force the Natchez Planters’ Alliance to blackball me as a cotton broker.”

  Ellie whirled around, her eyes blazing. “He can’t do that.”

  “A lot of the planters still owe his father commission on previous years’ cotton. He’s going to foreclose on those men’s properties unless they hire him as their broker.”

  “So you won’t get any work in this town.” The fire died down in her eyes, leaving behind a sort of defeated chill.

  “Maybe, maybe not.” How vague should he be? “A few planters don’t owe him money.”

  “How many?”

  He’d apparently dodged the issue with the skill of a hedgehog. But he’d decided to take Joseph’s advice, so he might as well follow through to the finish. “No secrets. Two.”

  As they drove up Magnolia Grove’s lane, Ellie’s sharp silence frightened him more than her lethargic tone had earlier. “Ellie, what aren’t you telling me?”

  She shook her head, pressing her fingers against her eyelids.

  “Ellie!” He snatched her hand and held tight to it, his sudden self-doubt as heavy as this weighty silence. “You can’t pull back from me like this.”

  She opened her eyes and then pointed toward the house. “It’s Leonard. He’s here.”

  Graham shot his gaze over to Moses and his dogtrot-style home between the main house and the house servants’ quarters. There Fitzwald stood beside his surrey, his puny arms bent as he shoved his fists onto his hips like a girl.

  The coward. Afraid to face Graham, he’d come to intimidate the help instead.

  Graham should have tried to get Ellie to stay at the house so he could face the weasel alone. It was too late now, so instead, he barreled down the dirt lane and came to an abrupt stop, dust billowing up around them. He leapt from the landau, his heart pumping hard.

  “Stay in here, Ellie.” He was at Fitzwald’s side within seconds.

  Ellie paid him no attention, clambering from the landau as fast as he had.

  “Moses, you’d better go in your house.”

  “No, sir. I’m the overseer here, and I’m bound to stay beside you.”

  Was nobody going to do as he said today? “Here’s a man as brave as Ellie. Fitzwald, you could learn from both of them.”

  “Don’t use that tone with me, Colonel. I’m soon to be the master of this plantation.”

  Fitzwald’s raspy voice cut through Graham like a rusty bayonet. “There aren’t any plantation masters anymore. Didn’t you hear that we lost the war? And if there were, you’d never be the master here, even if you steal every fiber of cotton on the place.”

  “That’s slander, Colonel.” His voice raised in pitch until he sounded like a woman.

  “You wouldn’t say that if you hadn’t stolen Ellie’s cotton.”

  Even though Graham had lived with soldiers for the past four years, he cringed inwardly at the level of foul language spewing from Leonard’s mouth. “Ellie and I have wedding plans to discuss, and they don’t include you.”

  “Get out of here, Fitzwald.” Graham kept his voice low, menacing.

  Fitzwald’s face turned red around that macabre black eye patch. “You’re a hothead, just like Ellie’s father.”

  “I am when you threaten her. That’s not going to change.”

  “I’m doing you both a favor. Ellie will marry me and keep her property and the money she owes me. In return, I’ll cancel the planters’ debts to my father and give them permission to hire you. Since you’re not marrying Ellie, the news of her father’s gambling habit won’t hinder you,” Fitzwald said loudly enough for anyone outside the cabins to hear, and maybe some of them inside. “I’ll even postpone the sale of Ashland Place until you can buy it. Everybody gets what they want.”

  “What about what Ellie wants? You’ve gone crazy, Fitzwald. You need to leave, now.”

  “Graham, stop.”

  Stop? He swung around, his thoughts a tangled mess.

  “Leonard, I must return to town. Will you excuse us?”

  “Certainly.” Quick as a snake, he snatched Ellie’s hand and kissed it.

  Her eyes flashing fire, she jerked it back and rubbed it on her skirt. She opened her mouth, surely to shout some sense into him, but then she closed it again.

  Well, if she wouldn’t, Graham would. He grabbed the weasel’s shoulder and spun him toward his carriage. “Don’t touch her again.”

  Sugar, at their side in an instant, bared her teeth and growled at Fitzwald as if she’d like to take out his other eye.

  He muttered the worst of profanities as Graham escorted him to the surrey. “Get out of here before you get hurt.”

  When Fitzwald had driven off down the lane, Graham helped Ellie into her carriage. For once, she didn’t protest or try to do it on her own.

  He opened his door and stepped aside as Sugar hopped in. Then he swung the horses and landau around. As they passed the big house, he turned to Ellie, trying to think of something to say—anything that might take the pain from her eyes.

  “Ellie...” He reached for her hand, the same one Fitzwald had assaulted with his thin little lips.

  As she held on to his hand, she blinked, fast, as if holding back tears.

  “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure he never does that again.”

  She wiped her eyes and turned in the seat to face him. “Leonard is using the planters’ loans to force them to use him as their broker.”

  He slowed the horses to take the turn onto the road. “That’s about right.”

  “If I don’t marry him, you won’t have work. You won’t be able to support your family, and you won’t be able to buy Ashland Place.”

  Was that what she was upset about? “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find something else.”

  “Like what?”

  What did it matter at this moment? “I haven’t considered other options yet because until now, it was already settled.”

  But from the look on her face, she didn’t consider it settled. Not at all.

  “Joseph talked to you about secrets. You tried to tell me about yours on the way here, and now you know mine.”

  He drew a deep breath. “Honey, you’re going to have to come right out and say what you mean, because I’m as confused as I’ve ever been in my life.”

  “Your secret was that you won’t get any work from the local planters.” She spoke slowly, as one would with a child. “Mine was that my father was a gambler. He won that railroad from Leonard’s father—in a card game.”

  “That’s half true. I admit to keeping that secret from you. But I already knew how your father got that railroad.”

  She frowned. “How did you know?”

  “Leonard told me.”

  “He’ll ruin your life just as he’s ruined everything else.” She held his hand against her cheek, her tears warm against his skin. “I can�
��t let you lose everything because of me.”

  “I’m not going to. But even if I did, you couldn’t do anything to stop it, and it wouldn’t be your fault.”

  As he said the words, he realized why she was upset. His military career had come after she refused his proposal eight years ago. And now most, if not all, of his problems had their roots in his West Point past.

  She thought all his problems were her fault.

  “Ellie, sweetheart, I know what you’re thinking. But it isn’t true. I made my own decisions, and you weren’t to blame.”

  “You left for New York the day after I refused you. Now I realize I encouraged Leonard back then. I never meant to, but it’s still my fault that he hates you.”

  She reached up and brushed back a lock of his hair. Something in her touch—or was it her expression?—held a note of sadness, of finality, and it sent a chill through him that the hot Mississippi sun couldn’t banish.

  “Graham, our pretend courtship is what’s stirring Leonard up. We can’t continue with it. If we do, you won’t be able to provide for your family. You’ll never have your plantation.”

  No, she couldn’t be saying that. His pulse raced as it had when she refused him the first time. “You’re upset now, and I understand—”

  In his desperation, he’d spouted the first thing that came to mind. But he needed time to think, to convince her how wrong this was, how right they were together. He’d never have a chance if they stopped spending time together.

  “We have to end the courtship.”

  * * *

  “You don’t mean that. You don’t want it—I can tell. I know you better than anyone.”

  The anguish in Graham’s voice could have changed Ellie’s mind in an instant if doing so wouldn’t ruin his life. Graham did know her better than anyone, it was true, and he was right that she didn’t want it. “Think of little Betsy—and Noreen. They depend on you. They don’t have anyone else.”

  “No, we both still need the fabricated courtship. That way, we can still spend time together, working to sell your cotton, without hurting our reputations. And then I can stay close by to protect you from Leonard. We’ll find a way—”

  It was cruel to let him think she might reconsider. “If we continue, neither of us will have anything. We’ll lose a lot more than your brokerage. Both my homes will be gone, I’ll have no way to earn a living for myself and Uncle Amos, and you’ll never have Ashland Place. You’ll probably lose Noreen’s home too, because she won’t be able to pay the fall taxes. Where will we all go?”

  “Ellie.” His voice deepened, husky. “Do you care for me?”

  She hesitated. It was the same question he’d asked eight years ago. This time she was powerless to laugh it off as before. Care for him? She was in love with him. Uncontrollably, undeniably, get-weak-in-the-knees-when-he-looked-at-her in love with him. Eight years ago—and now. Even though she never allowed herself to admit it back then. And that was why she had to do this.

  “Because if you care for me, even a little, this makes no sense at all.”

  When did love ever make sense? Had it made sense to her mother? Until this moment, Ellie thought she was doing the right thing. But now, seeing the way he stood his ground, waiting for the answer he already knew, a pang of doubt overshadowed her. Was there another way?

  “You’re worth more to me than all the plantations in Mississippi. We’ll make it work somehow,” he said, his voice gravelly. “I promise.”

  Promises. Why were they so hard to keep? “Yes, I—care for you, but I don’t have a solution this time. I can’t—”

  Her throat suddenly tightening with unshed, silent tears, Ellie bounded from the carriage, the door banging, metal against metal.

  She’d been a fool. Since her mother’s death, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall in love. Now she fled from the one man who had begun to still those ancient fears and draw her heart to himself in ways she’d only dreamed. Of course it had to be this way. How could she have let herself fall in love with him—again?

  She tried to shut out the sound of his voice calling her name as she sprinted across the yard. Her skirt whirled around her legs, threatening to throw her off balance, until she caught sight of Susanna Martin in her own yard across Washington Street.

  Susanna rushed across the street and caught Ellie’s hands. “Whatever has happened? You’re racing about as if your house was burning down.”

  “My house is fine.” Her heart was the only thing falling to pieces.

  Susanna sidled up close to her. “Did you and the colonel have words?”

  The familiar glint in Susanna’s eyes showed that she sensed a morsel of gossip. Maybe the girl was Ellie’s best ally at the moment. She would spread the news of the courtship’s end faster than Ellie could, and the sooner Leonard found out, the better.

  However, then Ellie would have no chance to change her mind...

  The slam of Graham’s stable door drew her attention. She turned to see him mounting Dixie. Then, his back perfectly straight, he barreled up Commerce Street without glancing her way. Leaving again. Just like before.

  Graham...

  She had to do it now, or she never would. She drew a deep breath and silently prayed for strength.

  “We are no longer courting.”

  Her words sounded cold and hard, but in reality, they burned fire in her heart. She heard other words too—Susanna’s insincere words of consolation, Graham’s words of pain and, loudest of all, Uncle Amos’s dire prediction: Somebody’s going to get hurt. I think it’s going to be you.

  How right her uncle had been. And how foolish she’d been to ignore his advice.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Graham pushed Dixie as hard as she could go on the busy street, his mind racing faster than the horse’s hooves as he headed for the sheriff’s office. Last time, he’d run away from Ellie’s rejection. This time, he ran toward the solution to their problems—at least, he hoped his ideas would solve them. For the first time, he was the one with the plan.

  Five hours later, he burst through Ellie’s back doorway, unannounced and without knocking. “Ellie?” His voice boomed across the center hall and echoed off the front door. “Ellie! I know you’re upstairs. Come down here and talk to me.”

  Lilah May scurried into the hall. “What you doing, nearly busting that door off its hinges? And lower your voice. Miss Ellie’s upstairs with a sick headache.”

  “Get her down here, unless you don’t care whether or not we save Magnolia Grove.”

  The maid’s eyes widened for a moment, and then she made for the stairs.

  “What are you bellowing about?” Ellie’s hushed voice drifted down. “Lilah May, please check on Uncle Amos and make sure he didn’t hear the commotion.”

  As Ellie’s light footsteps sounded on the steps, Graham moved farther into the hall and to the bottom of the staircase. Long and narrow, its twenty-six steps looked more like fifty today as she moved slower than Joseph ever did, even at his age.

  Then as she drew nearer, Graham saw the reason for her hesitation. Red-rimmed, puffy eyes and tearstained cheeks told their story. His heart clenched at the sight. She’d admitted she cared for him, and now he saw that she did. But could she love him? During his frantic pace of the afternoon, he’d tossed that question about in his mind until he had to hand it over to the Lord. When he had, only one thought had come to him: love doesn’t fail.

  He edged closer, choosing not to remark on her appearance, especially since the tears made her even more beautiful.

  “I meant what I said.” Ellie stood on the last step, clinging to the newel post.

  “So did I. That’s why I’ve been busy all day, putting my plan in place.” He swept off his hat and gestured with it toward the library. “Allow me to report to you, Miss
Anderson.”

  She frowned. “Why did you call me that?”

  Graham started toward the back of the house and the library. “I’m not your beau anymore. I’m merely your broker and you’re my client, so I addressed you as such.”

  “You’re not my broker anymore. I fired you this morning.” Despite her bold words, she trailed him to the library, as he knew she would.

  “I obligated myself to ship last year’s cotton to the buyer in New Orleans. I’ll never get any work in Natchez if you don’t let me follow through with that.”

  When they were seated at the round library table, Ellie pulled the bell cord near the corner bookcase.

  Lilah May entered the room almost immediately. No big surprise that she was lurking nearby, but Graham hadn’t heard her come down the steps. Then again, she’d always been stealthy.

  “Would you please serve refreshments to my broker and me?”

  At the phrase “my broker,” Lilah May narrowed her eyes at her employer. “Fine. You want lemonade with the lemon or without, like you been drinking it all afternoon?”

  “With lemon, please.”

  Poor Ellie, with her downcast eyes and little-girl voice. She was in over her head, and she knew it. If Graham accomplished nothing else in his lifetime, he was going to make sure she kept her land and home. Even if he never had the right to take her in his arms and comfort her as he wanted to now. “You still drink sugar water when you’re upset?”

  “Sometimes.” She shifted slightly in her chair. “Tell me your plan, Colonel.”

  So that was how she wanted to play it. That was fine, since he’d instigated the formality. “First I went to the sheriff’s office to report the theft and file a complaint against Fitzwald. We can’t do much on the mere evidence of a dog’s growl, but Sheriff Tillman knows Fitzwald, and he’s going to keep an eye on him.”

  He hadn’t expected much enthusiasm about that bit of news, and he didn’t get it. “I also moved the shipments of cotton forward. We load the bales in the church tomorrow morning and the rest in two days. I would have loaded them all today if there’d been room on the ship.”