The Prodigal's Welcome

by Billerbeck, Kristin; Darty, Peggy;

  Eleanor picked up the great, black book and opened to where Sarah had marked with a scarlet silk ribbon. Hebrews. If she didn’t know better, she would think Hattie had planned this. She read a few chapters before Sarah fell off to a peaceful sleep. Once in the chapter, however, she stopped at the words before her, and her heart pounded at the message.

  “Marriage is honourable in all…but…adulterers God will judge. Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”

  Eleanor’s breath left her at the searing admonition. She had complained without ceasing. She believed Nathaniel would save her, but he couldn’t. Only God could save her from her lack of contentment; and until she made things right with Him, they could never be right within her heart. That is what Hattie had tried to tell her. She hurried to her own bedroom and found Hattie packing her trunk for the wedding trip.

  “How is Miss Jenkins?”

  “She is sleeping peacefully. Hattie, I believe I read what you wished me to. The scripture, I mean, in Hebrews—was it about contentment?”

  Hattie smiled. “I believe you read what God wished you to as I see your Bible is sitting there untouched.”

  Eleanor looked at the Bible and walked toward it. Her hand flew to her mouth with a gasp. “It is the same page.”

  “Don’t act so surprised. God is mighty and willing if we draw near to Him.”

  “Everything points to the fact that I should marry Andrew. I can protect Rosamond, I can protect the slaves, and I can protect Nathaniel’s life. But if I don’t marry him all of those things will fall into his hands. Especially the black codes. Mother’s wishes will be long forgotten.”

  “They already are being forgotten, Ellie. But you must allow God to work. He doesn’t ask that you do everything by yourself—only that you rely on Him.”

  “There’s only one reason to marry Nathaniel—for my own selfish desires. I must fight that, Hattie. Perhaps God’s will is different for my life than what I had hoped. I must accept His will for my life.”

  “I knew God was working on you, dear.”

  “I’ll be at the heritage magnolia.” It was her favorite place to pray. “Please tell anyone who’s looking for me where I’ll be. I won’t leave shouting distance of the house.”

  “Very well, but you must be back to dress for dinner. We’re expecting all of the Pembertons and a few neighbors as well.”

  “Is Nathaniel invited?”

  “Yes, Ellie. He shall be here, according to his father and your aunt. God will give you the strength, Ellie, whatever you decide. I know He will.”

  Eleanor dressed in her finest bare-shouldered silk for the preparation dinner. The soft pink color induced a rosy glow to her cheeks, and her fear slowly dissipated as she gazed at her reflection. She drew in a great breath. “If this is God’s will, let it be.”

  Descending the staircase, she fingered the banister, taking in the details of the ornately carved balusters. Had she ever noticed there were pineapples carved into each base? As she reached the entryway, candlelight danced on the Italian marble, and she was mesmerized by the fiery reflective dance.

  “Ellie?” Nathaniel’s deep voice met her.

  Looking up, she willed herself not to fall straight into his arms. Nathaniel never appeared finer. Clean-shaven for the occasion and looking dashing in his black suit of clothes, she marveled at what a handsome groom he would be. With his dark, wavy hair combed neatly, he smiled, showing elegant white teeth and an aristocratic carriage. The light of the candles shone a brilliant bronze into his hazel eyes, and Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to remember every detail of him this night.

  I can’t do this, Lord. I am not strong enough.

  “Eleanor,” Andrew stood before her, finally in something other than his Confederate uniform. He also wore a black suit.

  “Good evening, Andrew.”

  “May I say you are a perfect vision this evening. Why, you shall have the entire town of Natchez hoping to marry you.”

  At this comment, Andrew looked callously toward Nathaniel, who hadn’t taken his eyes from Ellie.

  “Thank you, Andrew. You are most kind.”

  “I have taken the liberty of selecting a wedding gift for you.” Andrew produced a long, velvet box. He opened it and inside lay an emerald necklace with dropped stones and gold encasing. Eleanor gasped at its beauty, but she instantly regretted her reaction when she saw Nathaniel turn from her. “It was my mother’s. We buried it during the war so that my bride might have it.”

  Eleanor turned away from Andrew, and he placed the necklace around her neck. It suddenly felt like a shackle to her, and it took every ounce of strength not to rip it from her neck.

  “It’s beautiful, Andrew. Thank you.”

  He placed a harsh kiss on her cheek and whispered in her ear. “See, I can be quite agreeable.” His breath upon her sent a shiver down her back.

  A seven-course dinner and dull conversation dragged on until Eleanor could barely hide her impatience. She listened as Andrew told guests exploits of the war. Some new, some he had repeated endlessly. When the last guest left, Eleanor bid good night to her father and aunt and snuck quietly down the back stairs for some air. The cookhouse was alive and vigorously churning out smoke for tomorrow’s festivities, and Eleanor used its light to find her way to an iron bench which decorated the garden. It wasn’t long before Nathaniel joined her.

  “I knew you would come.”

  “You look beautiful, Ellie. You shall make the most extraordinary bride. I wish I might be here to see it.”

  Any emotion ceased. Eleanor felt only numbness as she faced Nathaniel. “You are going then.” She lifted her chin and played with the folds in her gown.

  “Yes.”

  “I shall miss you, Nathaniel.”

  “And I, you. I’ve threatened my brother’s life if he mistreats you, Ellie. He’s given me his word he shall treat you as a queen.”

  “As he treated Ceviche.”

  “We don’t know he had anything to do with that.”

  “No, that’s right. We won’t take the word of a slave girl over your upstanding brother.”

  “You’re only making this more difficult.”

  Eleanor faced him for the last time. Powerless against his brother, she currently despised him for his weakness. No matter how strong he pretended to be by leaving her a reputable woman, she would remember him for his lack of courage. “I shall be fine, Nathaniel. I have reconciled myself to such a marriage. I was once very used to the idea until you came back and teased me. Do not worry. I shall make the most of my match and do what I can to help the people of Rosamond and Woodacre.”

  “One day you shall thank me for my sacrifice.”

  “I doubt that very much, Master Pemberton, but as I said, I shall be a good wife to your brother. It appears God is teaching me a lesson in contentment, and I shall learn it well. I am thankful we had this romantic tryst, that I might be the heroine in a Charlotte Brontë novel for a time and remember the days of my youth with folly. For two short weeks I was the belle of the ball.”

  “You will always be the belle, Ellie. Always.” He bent down and brushed a kiss to her cheek.

  Chapter 20

  Eleanor’s ivory satin wedding gown with its wide skirt, worn over layers of petticoats and a full crinoline hoop glistened with elegance in the morning light. She fingered the handmade lace neckline, thinking such extravagance was wasted. Dressing had been a chore, beginning with the embroidered chemise, topped with a restricting corset, and finally the laced closing on the back of the bodice. She could barely breathe from all the layers, but she was thankful her wedding was in early November, rather than the stifling heat of summer.

  She placed the floral motif Limerick veil atop her crown of auburn hair and sighed. “I shall forget Nathaniel was ever here. That is the Christian thing to do.”

  “Yes,” Hattie agree
d, though her mood had been less than Christian today. With every step she forced her foot to the ground, and when lacing up the wedding gown Eleanor thought she might die from the elder woman’s aggressions. Although Hattie had preached to her endlessly on contentment, watching Ellie marry Andrew was like giving her own daughter up to a sworn enemy. Its toll upon Hattie grew obvious.

  “Hattie, do not look at me in such a way. I am no traitor. If I don’t marry him, we shall all suffer. I must marry someone, and it may as well be Andrew. I thought you told me you could be content in all circumstances.”

  “I can be, but I hoped for better for you, Ellie. I hoped you might find true love rather than settle for a life with Andrew Pemberton.”

  “I shall persuade him in regards to the workers. Give me time.”

  “You are far too generous with his nature. Your mother despised him as a child, and I think it was with good reason.”

  “My mother never despised anyone.”

  “True,” Hattie said. “But if she was close to despising anyone it would be that strange boy who always had a snail in his pocket.” They laughed together.

  “All little boys like snails and frogs. It’s quite a normal experience for boys.”

  “It was not normal to talk to them. And he talked to that snail just as I am talking to you this morning. Called it Rudolpho.”

  “Hattie, are you quite finished?”

  “I am finished.”

  “Nathaniel is gone. There are no options left to me, and we shall soon depart for Woodacre to live, so I suggest you get used to respecting Andrew as master of our home and not bring up Rudolpho again.”

  Eleanor knew her tone was cool, that Hattie only had her best interest at heart. But the day was hard enough to endure. She needed Hattie on her side. A strange sense of calm had enveloped Eleanor. With Nathaniel gone, and no escape possible, she was determined to see God’s will through to its rightful end.

  Hattie’s booming voice interjected, “As I said before, I’m content, and when I enter his home as a servant, I shall forever be silent.”

  A muffled cry emanated from the next room. “Excuse me, Hattie. That’s Miss Jenkins. I need to check on her this morning.”

  “In your wedding finery?” Hattie asked.

  “Unless you care to unlace me and start again.” Eleanor laughed at Hattie’s grimace. “I didn’t think so. I shall return shortly for my bouquet, and we shall get on with this wedding.”

  Eleanor knocked quietly on the guest room door. “Sarah? Sarah, it’s me, Ellie; may I come in?”

  “Please, Ellie. Come in!” Sarah turned toward the door, still in her stomach-down position with her blond hair cascading about her elegantly. “Oh Ellie! I have never seen a more beautiful bride. What a sight you make this morning. I was feeling so depressed until I got a glimpse of such beauty. My spirits are lifted now.”

  Eleanor twisted and turned to model her exquisite gown. “It is lovely, isn’t it?”

  “Not the gown, Ellie—you. Smile, Ellie—it is the only thing that’s missing.”

  “I’m not sad, Sarah, really. I’m resigned. I’m resigned to getting married today, and I shall make the best of it because that’s what the Lord would have me do.”

  “You are a better woman than I.”

  “How can you say such rubbish as you lie in agony and make nary a sound, Sarah? This gown would be twice as beautiful on you. Your golden hair is being talked of throughout the town. I’ve been asked if you might part with a few strands for a souvenir.”

  Sarah laughed. “Such folly. Men are naive creatures, more vain than you or I.”

  “This gown would be beautiful on you,” Eleanor repeated.

  “Perhaps I shall get the chance to wear it someday if I’m not a certified cripple for my entire life. I fear no one would marry an invalid.”

  “You will recover, Sarah. I’m certain of it. Doc Hayes has called in the best specialists, and when you do you shall wear my gown and do it proper justice. I should like to see this gown worn by a bride who glows with happiness, as you certainly shall.”

  “Prince Charming did not come last night?”

  “No, and he won’t be at the wedding. He has left Mississippi and my life forever.”

  “Such a pity. It was so romantic to think he might sweep you away in the night and make you his bride, leaving his brother terrorized from the deception.”

  “It did make a romantic tale, didn’t it?” Eleanor took a cloth and wrung it out in the basin.

  “No! You shall ruin your satin. Your groom would not appreciate droplets of water on your gown.”

  “I can see you perspiring from here, Sarah. I cannot leave you like this.”

  “Call for my cousin. You are a bride today, not a nursemaid!”

  “Pshaw! I cannot have a man standing over you. Your position is perilous enough as it is, and I know that would be my undoing to have a man see me in such form.”

  “We are too alike, dear Ellie. Vanity first!” Sarah giggled.

  Eleanor’s heart ached as she watched Sarah struggle with each movement, yet laugh through the pain. “I have nothing to complain about. I know that now. Nathaniel is a far-off dream. Andrew shall be my reality.”

  “Sometimes our second choices are truly better for us. God knows, Ellie, and He will care for you.”

  Eleanor nodded. “Doc Hayes has sent for a chair with wheels. Do you think you might be able to attend the wedding? I should feel so much better if you were there.”

  “Such a kind invitation, but I wouldn’t dream of intruding on your day. You shall be the belle of the ball today, Ellie, not a foreign invalid who is more fit for a circus act than a witness to a wedding.”

  “Pray for me. It shall be a harrowing day. My cousin Mary shall watch every move I make all the while she cries at Andrew’s vows.”

  “Mary has lost so much, and now this. Sometimes, life simply isn’t fair.”

  “I know one thing. God provided your friendship for me, and I needed it to get through this day. To be able to tell someone, in all this finery, that I feel more like I’m attending a funeral than a wedding is such a great weight off my heart.”

  “If I am not here when you get back from your wedding trip, I shall write, Ellie.”

  Squeezing the cloth for one final sweep of perspiration, Eleanor kissed her new friend’s forehead. “Wish me luck.”

  “All you’ll need rests in Him.”

  Eleanor left and shut the door quietly. Mary met her in the hallway.

  “Your dress is divine, just as we imagined. Won’t Andrew be happy?”

  “Won’t he,” Eleanor said flatly.

  “I’m sorry for our misunderstanding, dear cousin. I should have never expressed my emotions for your future husband. Forgive me for such impropriety.”

  “You are forgiven, Mary. You were only doing what you thought was best. Trying to make me realize what a fine husband Andrew would make.”

  “I’m glad you’ve come to the realization. He is far too valuable to mishandle. Mitchell Rouse made that mistake.”

  “Mitchell? What did you say about Mitchell, my father’s overseer? Or should I say former overseer?”

  Mary’s eyes grew wide. “Nothing. I said nothing about him. Only that he misunderstood Andrew’s strength and saw his loss of an arm as a sign of weakness.”

  “How would you know, Mary? Mr. Rouse was dead before you and Aunt Till arrived.”

  “I’ve only heard things.”

  “What kind of things, Mary? Does this have anything to do with Ceviche or Sammy?”

  “Oh my, no. What would it have to do with a slave girl or her—” she stopped to clear her throat, “her husband.”

  “How did you know Sammy was her husband?”

  “I—I just assumed.”

  “Mary Louisa Bastion, you tell me what you know. Or I shall announce to the wedding party that I cannot marry such a black heart and tell the congregation of your love for my groom.”

&nb
sp; “Don’t be ridiculous, Eleanor. You would do no such thing.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I have nothing to lose, or did you fail to notice that Nathaniel left for good last night? Don’t pretend with me, dear cousin. I saw you on the veranda last night.” Eleanor grabbed at her cousin’s wrist when she tried to escape. “I know you know everything that took place between Nathaniel and me. You hoped for the opportunity to sweep in on Andrew, but he will not marry you, Mary. You are penniless, and Andrew’s heart is as black as the bottom of an overloaded flatboat.”

  Mary looked straight into her eyes, testing her to see if she would follow through on her threats, and Eleanor held firm, never relinquishing the gaze. Mary soon backed down. “Very well. I shall tell you what I know, but only because it will have little bearing on your future now. Andrew has collected the marriage license. The only way you would be free from this marriage now is to ruin your good name, so I am confident my words will not harm Andrew in the least.”

  “Tell me what Andrew had to do with Ceviche.”

  Mary held her chin high. “He traded her for taxes on Woodacre. While your neighbors scrambled to stay as one plantation and not be divided, Andrew made a deal. He gave free cotton to the Yankees during the war. But only because he is a true Confederate and knew he would see the day when their money might enable him to spit in their faces. Ceviche had caught the eye of a young Yankee, and Andrew traded her for the right to be left alone by the Federal administration in Natchez.”

  “You seem to take an ill pleasure in that, Mary. Can you imagine being sold to a bidder who thought you beautiful?” Eleanor looked into her cousin’s darkened eyes. What had happened to her childhood playmate? “Does that give the man a right to own you?”

  “Ceviche is a slave girl, Ellie. She’s quite used to being sold.”

  “She grew up at Woodacre. She’s no more used to it than you or I.”

  “It was shameful how you risked yourself to feed her. Andrew was right to be rid of her and now, thanks to Nathaniel, rid of her man, too. We lost everything because of the slaves. When will your stupidity allow you to grasp that? That the South is no more because of slaves.”