“Of course.” Sophia said as her memory returned. “Spectators were out in droves last night till the rain forced them inside. Didn’t you see them? The rumor of a possible show of arms was all over town.”
Emily had been too preoccupied to notice, and Jovie never mentioned it. She watched in disbelief as crowds of people emerged in their nightclothes, waving flags and jostling through the street below to battle for a view on the battery promenade. Men and women, young and old, jubilant with the first shots of rebellion. Sleep had completely evacuated the city.
Jovie arrived by eight o’clock and ordered both girls into a carriage. Sophia was furious. “Who do you think you are, Jovie Cutler? I am a married woman. You cannot order me about like a child.”
“If that’s all the sense you display, that’s how I’ll treat you. And if you don’t mind me, I will carry you aboard.”
Emily obeyed contritely. She’d never seen Jovie like this. His eyes were cold and hard, his jaw firm as steel. He looked fearsome, like the scowling eagle on a Union emblem. She wasn’t necessarily alarmed by the change. Just…ashamed.
The maids followed, and the trunks were soon loaded. Sophia resisted until her twin picked her up and flung her bodily into the carriage. She responded with a flurry of obscenities, each one underscored by the continual barrage of artillery fire. Jovie didn’t acknowledge her at all. He just sat beside the driver, eyes straight ahead, and uttered not a single word all the way to the station.
The train ride home felt just as awkward. Emily couldn’t help but contrast her mortification with the giddy excitement of the past two days. The heady freedom, the fluttery elation of the promenade with Thad, the less thrilling but deeply satisfying lecture—she realized she’d discard them all if she could earn back Jovie’s approval.
They left Sophia on the train at Ladson’s station. “Go home,” Jovie ordered his sister, and with Emily’s elbow firmly in his grasp, led her to the livery stable while Lizzie waited with the trunk.
Emily couldn’t take his aloofness any longer. “Are you going to tell my father?”
“I should,” he said without looking at her.
It was half a reassurance. But she’d rather he tattle than ignore her. “Jovie, look at me.”
He turned his eyes in her direction, and she was startled by their indifference. “I had a wonderful time at the lecture yesterday. It was, perhaps, the most fulfilling day of my life.”
“It was foolishness to come to the city without anyone’s knowledge, Emily. You and Sophia could have been hurt, or worse.” He looked away. “You should have waited for your father’s permission.”
“My father will never grant his permission,” she stressed in exasperation. “If I want an opportunity to pursue the arts, I will have to seize it myself.”
He turned to her again, his eyes now harsh and inscrutable. “Is that all this lecture meant to you? Just a means to an end?”
“I already told you it was one of the best things that ever happened to me.”
“But not for the reason I was hoping to hear.” He stopped outside the livery and stared unseeing at the lettering on its sign. “Emily, when you told me at your birthday ball that you didn’t welcome the attention of suitors, I stepped back. I was perfectly willing to give you time and space.” He turned to face her, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “But when Thad told me last night that the two of you have an understanding—”
“What?” Emily exclaimed. “He had no right to say that!”
“Is it true?”
“No, it is not true. I have rejected his advances on numerous occasions.”
“Yet he said two nights ago you and he strolled around the city after dark.”
“That can hardly be called an understanding,” Emily retorted.
“That can hardly be called rejecting his advances,” he shot back.
A heavy, awkward silence stood between them. Jovie sucked in a breath that sounded ragged around the edges and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Emily, I’m sorry. It is not my call whose company you choose to keep. But I’m not going to continue sitting in the barn if you’re welcoming Thaddeus Black into the parlor.”
“What on earth is that supposed to mean?” She stared into his green eyes, trying hard to fathom the emotion hidden there. They weren’t soft and warm as they had been the night of the lecture, but they were no longer stern either. They were steady and determined.
“If you still don’t know, maybe this will help you understand.”
With unhurried deliberation, he cupped the back of her head and bent his face to hers. It wasn’t like the sweet touch of Thad’s lips that swept her into a frenzy of emotion. Jovie’s was a strong, firm kiss, as fierce as his eye and as steady as the moon. His fervor surprised her, but the kiss made no demands. Rather, it asked a question.
One for which Emily had never dreamed she’d have to work out an answer.
20
Emily needn’t have worried about her parents’ reaction at her early return. Their attention was diverted by news of the bombardment, which had already been telegraphed across the countryside. Assuming uneasiness to be the principal cause of her return, they didn’t ask a single question. And if they harbored any suspicions, Jack’s next visit wiped them completely from their minds.
Emily was in the paddock with Chantilly and Lune that morning. At eight weeks old, the foal had gained an amazing amount of strength and weight. She followed Abel’s advice and worked with him every day, stroking him, picking up his feet, acclimating him to sounds and objects and smells, and teaching him good manners. He was a quick learner and something of a tease.
Emily had entered the paddock with a handful of oats tied into a handkerchief. It had been her daily ritual since they began supplementing Chantilly’s milk with feed. This time, however, Lune snatched a corner of the cloth and bolted, plunging and kicking, to the far side of the pasture where he dodged among his playmates.
Eventually the game lost its appeal and he dropped the bundle midway across the field. Emily retrieved it and held out the grain for the eager little muzzle, when suddenly Lune pricked up his ears, turning wide eyes in the direction of the drive. Then Emily, too, heard the sound of pounding hoofbeats. Moments later, Jolly raced into the yard.
Emily’s brow knit in confusion. Why had Jack made the long trip on a Sunday afternoon? Had something happened? Wiping her hands of the last sticking oats, she raced for the house, arriving just in time to hear her mother burst out, “Jack! What are you doing here?”
He looked much better than the last time Emily had seen him, though splotches of green and yellow still discolored his face. “Is Father here?”
“He’s in his study. Have you been fighting?” She reached out to touch his cheek, but he pulled away, shooting a warning glance at Emily.
“I need to talk to you both.” He strode briskly down the hallway, sweeping his mother along in his wake. Marie wrung her hands in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety. Jack’s odd behavior fully engaged Emily’s curiosity and she tagged quietly along, hoping to slip into the room unnoticed.
Deena intercepted Jack halfway to the study. “Lan’ sakes, chil’!” she exclaimed. “Whose fist did you run into?”
“Not now, Deena.” He brushed past her and she fell into line, bringing up the rear of the unusual procession.
Jack rapped on the door twice and entered uninvited. “Father, I need to speak with you.” Marie followed her son meekly into the room. Emily saw surprise and concern twist her father’s features, then Jack pushed the door closed in her face. Undiscouraged, she pressed her ear up against the wood.
“Miss Emily, get away from dat door,” Deena scolded.
“Shhh! I can’t hear what they’re saying.” She slid over to make room. After a split second of indecision, the black woman joined her.
“Jack,” Marie pleaded. Her words were muffled, but Emily could make them out just fine. “You’re frightening me. Tell us what’s going on?”
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“I think I can guess,” William snapped. His chair creaked as he stood up.
“Oh, Jack.” Marie’s words slumped in dismay.
Her brother couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. “I’ve enlisted with the Second South Carolina Infantry. We muster in on the eighth.”
Emily’s mouth plunged open.
William’s tone dropped to a low octave of displeasure. “We agreed you’d finish the school year first.”
“You don’t understand how quickly the regiments are filling,” Jack insisted. “Company K is the last one attached to the Second, and they aren’t waiting. If I missed this opportunity, who knows how many months would pass before another company begins recruiting? The war could be over by then and I will have missed it.”
“I thought you were wiser than this, Jackson. For the sake of a few weeks, you’ve thrown away a whole semester.”
Emily jerked involuntarily. Her father wasn’t angry that Jack had chosen to throw himself in front of Union guns. He was upset that Jack hadn’t finished the school year, as if completion of the term might afford some kind of protection. By her silence, Emily guessed her mother was entertaining thoughts similar to her own.
“Actually, I haven’t.” Jack’s sly inflection made Emily strain to catch his next words. “I finished my course work early. My marks will go out in the post along with everyone else’s.”
Emily heard her father’s hearty guffaw. “Why, you devil!” He laughed again and she could hear thumping, probably her father’s hand pounding her brother’s back. “My son, a member of the Army of South Carolina! Let’s see, that would be Kershaw’s regiment, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. ”
“Well, well,” William crowed. “You’re the first Preston to see military service since your great-grandfather served in the Revolution. He would be very proud to see you continue waging the same fight for freedom.” Tight fingers of dread began kneading at Emily’s internal organs. “With your family name, you should have held out for officer.”
“I was late to the party. I’ve been assured, however, that my chance of advancement is very good.”
“Well, well,” William said again.
“We are very proud of you, dear.” Marie had recovered enough to force some enthusiasm into her voice. “I believe we should throw a ball in your honor.”
“I can’t, Mother. I’ve only come to deliver Jolly. We depart on the twelfth.”
We? Emily’s breath stopped. Was Thad part of this madness, too? Her father asked the question out loud. “Who’s we?”
“Jovie and I. We’re heading back to the city on the evening train.”
“Jovie!” Emily whispered, springing back from the door as if it had scalded her. The finger massaging her insides began to pinch and twist.
“Miss Emily?” Deena whispered.
“I—I’m going back out to the paddock,” she answered. Only she didn’t. She continued past the horses and into the woods, down an overgrown path she had once known well. After ten minutes of hard walking, she emerged in the side yard of Fairview. Her steps automatically directed themselves to the back door where she and Jack used to call so often.
Jovie met her before she knocked. “I saw you coming.”
“Is it true?” she asked.
He stepped outside and conducted her toward a decorative vineyard that offered them some privacy. He had removed his cravat and his shirt hung open at the neck, revealing the triangle of his collarbone. For a brief moment, the memory of a kiss hung heavy between them.
“Yes, it’s true. And if I’d known enlisting in the infantry was all it took to bring you here, I might have joined months ago.”
Emily found no humor in his joke. “Have you told your parents already?”
He nodded.
“Why?” she asked. “I thought you were immune to all this foolishness.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” He ran his hand up a wooden support and tested its soundness. “Preoccupied might be a better word.”
“But you’ve never shown any interest. I mean, my brother has been very vocal about his politics. But you? I’ve never heard you utter a word.”
“That’s because, unlike your brother, school has required my entire focus. I finished my last assignment just this morning. Jack delayed for five days so we could come home together.”
“So you’re friends again.”
He shrugged. “For all his stubbornness and stupidity, he’s still Jack.”
She crossed her arms over her stomach. “It doesn’t seem fair that he would drag you into this mess.”
“He’s hardly dragged me.” Jovie turned to face her. His hands found their way into his pockets. “I volunteered, same as he did.”
“You know what I mean. It was people like my brother and my father who pushed us into this mess. Not you.”
He shook his head. “North and South grew apart long ago. This has been building for decades. It was bound to explode sooner or later.”
“Explosions kill people.” The words came out barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to do this, Jovie. You have more sense than Jack.”
“Would you have me abandon my best friend?”
“Friendship is no cause to go to war.”
“No. But if war is coming to me, I think I’d rather face it at the side of a friend.”
Until that moment, she hadn’t fully appreciated the steady, reassuring presence he’d been at her side.
“We all have a stake in the outcome, Emily,” he continued. “The North can’t know what’s best for us any more than King George knew how to govern the Colonies. We need to rule ourselves.”
“Now you sound like Jack.” She dismissed his argument. “I know the rhetoric.”
“Well, he’s right. If they undermine slavery, fifty percent of our wealth would evaporate overnight.”
“And that’s the heart of it all, isn’t it?” she said, her words heavy with disgust. “Is slavery really an institution worth shedding blood over?”
His eyes fastened on her face, full and questioning.
“Oh, come now, Jovie,” she said with a trace of bitterness. “You see it every day. Have you become as blind to its shortcomings as everyone else?”
His tongue rolled inside his cheek and Emily couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I never knew you felt this way.”
“I didn’t either. Not until recently. But the truth is, slavery deals someone a terribly unfair hand.”
Jovie pressed his lips into a thin line. “So, just for the sake of argument, would you say it’s unfair to work a team of oxen?”
She couldn’t tell if he was being caustic or curious. “Yes, if those oxen looked like me and talked like me and bore children that looked like me.”
“What are you suggesting? That we change the entire fabric of the South because you’ve suddenly had qualms about the morality of our economic system?” This time his words definitely held a trace of tartness.
“I don’t know.” She sighed miserably. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
His expression grew troubled. “Emily, if you voice these ideas in front of the wrong people…”
She shook her head. “I know. I didn’t come here to argue with you.”
“Why did you come?”
Tears stung her eyes as worry, uncertainty, and maybe even a little guilt coalesced, forming a familiar, uncomfortable presence in her chest. Why had she come? Maybe just to know she wasn’t alone. “Because I’m scared, Jovie.”
That was the honest truth. He stepped forward and wrapped her in a snug embrace. “We are going to be just fine. You’ll see. Maybe this is even the start of a new, glorious age.”
“I’m worried about Jack. He’s reckless, and he’s fearless.”
Jovie rested his cheek against her temple. “Sometimes I wonder if this diversion might be the best thing for him. If he stays in Charleston, he’s going to destroy himself.”
“Seems like
war has infinitely more possibilities to invite death,” she said wryly.
“It’s not a war.” He held her shoulders so he could look into her face. “It’s just two bullies sizing each other up. Neither wants to give in, but neither really wants to fight.”
“So my brother says. Don’t let him kill himself, Jovie.”
“I’ll watch out for him,” he promised. “It’s only for one year.” But they both knew how impulsive Jack could be. If he got a notion in his head, there was little anyone could do to remove it.
“And don’t get yourself killed.” The words slipped out in a whisper.
He stepped back. “I think you’re overreacting.” His hands ran down her arms, and he sifted her fingers between his. “Although I find it quite agreeable.”
She freed her hands. “Jovie, I’m not—we’re not—”
“I know.”
She looked down at her toes then focused on the pulse beating against his Adam’s apple. “I am going to paint. I need to create.” How could she explain her driving focus? How could she make him understand that romantic entanglements would only jeopardize those dreams?
But Jovie simply nodded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“It’s okay. I’ve already forgotten.”
He paused for the rhythm of a single breath. “I hope I never do.”
The toe of her shoe began drilling into the dirt beneath her skirt. “I, um, should—”
“Oh!” He drew a thick envelope from the back waistband of his trousers. “This is for you. I stopped by the post office in Ladson. I was going to come by and deliver it personally instead of handing it over to your brother with the rest of your mail. Knowing the nature of your recent correspondence, I thought perhaps you’d rather not have him asking questions.”
“Thank you.” She took the letter. It was definitely oversized, large enough to contain a small book. When she saw the Detroit return address, she knew exactly what it contained. “I have to go,” she said.
“So soon?”
“This is important.” She halted as she remembered he was about to leave for an entire year. “I’m not much good at good-byes,” she admitted.
Ella Wood Page 20