by Jerri Hines
“As do I.” Cullen reached up to wipe back a trickle of blood that still oozed from his wound. Time enough to see to it when they reached safety. “How did you find us in time?”
“When Clarissa arrived at Magnolia Bluff, she admitted it had been Harry Lee who incited her anger toward Jo. Got a bad feeling, especially when I got back up to the house. Charlotte was in tears. Harry Lee hadn’t even come to see her after the danger passed. Disappeared without a word to her. Never trusted the bastard. Figured I had already armed Saul, Woody, and Iggy in case there had been trouble with Miller. Relieved my worry to come out here and check on the two of you.”
“Owe you one, Cousin. Now we need to get the hell out of here. We’ll discuss the rest back home.”
No more words were uttered. The next moment, the whole of the group galloped down the road toward Magnolia Bluff.
Chapter Eleven
The slaves sung hymns throughout the night for Heyward. The melody came clearly through the open windows in Charlotte’s bedroom. It did little to ease the tension, nor would there be sleep.
Jo had heard Wade give orders for the men to stand guard outside the main house. Cullen hadn’t even let her go to the sick house, though he sent a man to check and watch over Heyward.
Relief flooded Jo when she discovered that Heyward had greatly improved; scarred for life but he would live. Miss Hazel and Gillie had been allowed to stay by his side. Oh, she wished Gillie was with her now.
Charlotte lay on the bed. She wasn’t asleep. Tears streamed down her cheeks, heartbroken. The poor thing was in love with a fiend, who had used her unmercifully…not only for information.
“Oh, Jo, he promised we would marry…can you forgive me?” Charlotte choked on the words.
The devil! Jo took her in her arms and rocked her friend. How well she understood what her friend was going through at this moment!
“Don’t think of him,” Jo urged. “It will do no good. We are friends. Nothing…nothing…will change us.”
“But you don’t know what I told him…”
“It does not matter. I know him only too well, Charlotte. It was not you.”
Charlotte sobbed in Jo’s arms until the early morning rose over the horizon. Thoughts ran rampant in her mind, to the point her head hurt. What if Harry Lee was right? What if Papa was dead? Whatever was she going to do?
The door creaked open. Clarissa strode inside, holding a breakfast tray. She looked lovelier than Jo had ever seen her, dressed in a baby blue watered silk dress edged with cascading lace. Her thick dark hair hung loose down her back, as if she had just emerged from a bath and was letting it dry. Even in the wee hours of the early morning, she was a sight to behold.
She greeted the girls with a warm smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I brought you up something to eat. I know you probably haven’t had a thing to eat. I should have seen to you last night but…it was so chaotic.”
Suddenly, Clarissa blushed a million shades of red. Abruptly, she took a deep breath. “Oh, come, now, Josephine, do not look at me so. I will send in my girl promptly to see to your needs. I know your girl is down with Heyward. I can lend you a gown…”
“I will borrow one of Charlotte’s,” Jo said. She released Charlotte and rose. Charlotte pulled up the covers and looked at Clarissa strangely.
“Thank you for breakfast.” Jo took the tray, dismissing the need for Clarissa’s presence. Instead, Clarissa slipped into the high back chair by the window.
“Is there something else, Clarissa?” Thunderstruck at Clarissa’s audacity, Jo stood frozen to her spot. Her tone was hardly cordial and she made no effort to extend a superficial courtesy.
“Why, yes, dear, there is.” Clarissa looked imploringly at Jo. “Wade has told me that I have shamed him with my behavior. I want to extend an olive branch to you. Quite sincerely and with my deepest regrets that my actions caused you any harm.”
“You have taken me by surprise.”
“Wade has been quite direct in his address of the circumstances before our marriage,” she went on. “I will confess I may have encouraged unfounded whispers. But for the life of me, you did nothing to defend yourself…and now look at yourself. Inviting scandal again.”
Taken back, Jo managed to keep her voice steady. “Why, Clarissa, what a sacrifice you have made to attempt such a heartfelt apology! Here I imagine you would rather ask if Wade has been honest with you.”
“You have the nastiest way about you, Josephine. Here I thought you would be undying grateful that the lieutenant wants to marry you. He declared to the family his intentions last night…despite the unwanted attention you have called to us.”
By your hand! She caught a glimpse of the hoity-toity girl who had always gotten her way. Bullying. Mean-spirited. Manipulating. But in that moment, Jo also saw Clarissa’s desire to know that Jo posed no threat to her relationship with her new husband.
Clarissa loved Wade. She had gone to great lengths to ensure her marriage. Guilt weighed upon her soul, Jo was certain…and well it should. Now her petty jealousy threatened what she had fought so hard to attain.
Had Wade called his wife out for her actions? Had he told Clarissa the magnitude of damage her harmful words had done?
Wade’s face flashed before her. He had come to save Cullen and her on a hunch. The anger she held against him dissipated, leaving her only with the hurt. How easy it would be to whisper to Clarissa that Wade had been quite passionate with his proclamation of love toward her.
She wanted to hurt Clarissa the way she had hurt her, leaving Clarissa with doubt. Doubt that would gnaw at her for years to come. Eat away any chance of happiness the couple had. It would be so easy…
Then she thought of Cullen. He had proclaimed his intentions openly to his family last night. Suddenly, nothing else mattered but being with him. He would protect her and make her forget Wade…forget all that had happened before they met.
Jo turned her attention back to Clarissa. “If you have wondered about Wade and myself, there is no need. My association with him deems from my friendship with Charlotte. I accept your apology with hope we will put it all behind us.”
Clarissa’s face softened as she heard the words she desired. “But of course.” Clarissa stood and hugged Jo. “We are to be sisters. Wade says he looks upon Cullen as a brother.”
Jo could not deny a source of anxiety was alleviated with the hope of leaving scandal and whispers behind her.
“Do ready yourself quickly. I so want Wade to see us together,” Clarissa declared. “As well as your lieutenant. The men will be so happy!”
Charlotte exchanged looks with Jo. Both repressed the sudden impulse to giggle until Clarissa departed. Then the two collapsed into a cascade of laughter.
* * * *
After breakfast, Wade walked back into his brightly sunshine-filled bedroom. He had left his wife to refresh herself and now found her taking down one of the pictures on his wall. Her thick dark hair hung long down below her waist. She had dressed for the day in a becoming gown that flattered her coloring. She made an enchanting picture.
Clarissa whirled around. She leaned against the heavy chair by the window and pressed her hand against her chest. “Good Heavens, Wade! You scared the wits from me!”
“It was not my intent,” he answered. “I see you are rearranging our room. I will admit I like what you have done.”
“Why, Wade Montgomery, I haven’t done a thing except take down that old picture!”
“Perhaps it is the feminine presence that leans to my admiration.”
He saw a warmth capture her expression. The night had lent to a new beginning…new hope that their marriage had not been a mistake…with the agreement that the past would stay in the past. There would be no more mention of Clarissa causing a malicious scandal or the words Clarissa had overheard him utter in a drunken state that he had wanted Cullen to offer for her so he could marry Josephine.
There had been so much strife between them, Wade now w
anted nothing more than to have harmony between Clarissa and himself. The wall between the two crumbled in the night air. With the morning sun came the realization they were truly man and wife.
Almost shyly, she slipped her arms about his neck. “I have done as I promised. After my bath, I went to Josephine and made peace.”
“On your word.”
Smiling, timidly, she kissed him. “We are sisters.”
“That is good,” he said with disarming charm. He reached over and ran his hand through her hair. “You look quite lovely with your hair down.”
“It won’t dry if I braid it while it’s wet.”
Leaning down, he whispered, “I would love to see you with it down.”
“You see me now…oh…”
Wade raised a brow wonderingly. Her face flamed red, but she did not recoil.
“It is broad daylight, Wade,” she said in a shy, soft whisper.
“It is.”
Wade released her to lock the door. He turned back to her; she reached out a hand and stepped close to him. His arms embraced her with a fevered eagerness and swept her up in his arms. The bed beckoned.
* * * *
Cullen chewed on the butt of his cigar and considered lighting it. The smoke-filled library had seen an endless stream of one after another over the last few hours. Now, morning was upon them and still no answers.
Looking refreshed, Wade strode into the room. He had left the discussion shortly after it began. He had no patience for what he heard.
“Has anything been settled?”
With his legs outstretched in front of his chair, Clayton shot his grandson a stern look. “We have pieced it together as nearly as we can.”
“Except…” Cullen’s word hung in the air. Except his grandfather’s part in the whole of the mess. “I told you, Grandfather, I’m not leaving until I have answers. I’ll be damned if I let you evade my issues. Neither should you, Wade. Tell him…tell him.”
“Tell me what?”
“It was something Harry Lee told me last night, but I wanted to confirm it before you were informed. Grandfather refuses to talk of it.”
“I told you, Cullen, it was all lies…a pack of lies.”
“Tell me, sir, why I don’t believe you. Can you not see that it’s time for the truth?”
“Truth!” Clayton’s voice rose higher. “Truth! The truth of what it takes to protect this family! You stand there now ready to condemn me for things far beyond your comprehension.”
“I understand what I have been told.”
“Do you? You are no better than any other Yankee. You want to blame someone else without looking at yourself first.”
“Damnit! I’m not a Yankee. I was born and raised here in Charleston. Hell, you raised me. My blood bleeds Southern, but it doesn’t mean I stopped thinking for myself because of my love for my home.”
“You have turned your back on your Southern roots, Cullen.” Clayton sounded stern. “I’ve heard you talk.”
“Why? Because I don’t believe in this call for succession? The whole idea has taken grip of the whole of South Carolina like a fever during sick season. Listen to the irrational rantings of those around you.
“I’ve heard them all. I’ve had them slung at me, for Heaven’s sakes. Saying Carolinians have no choice. We have been insulted for the last time. We need to show them Yankee devils!
“I ask you—insulted how? Because our way of life is built upon the backs of slaves. You know it. I know it. You also know that it’s our stubbornness and stupidity that won’t admit we need to address our own problems instead of lashing out at the Yankees for pointing them out to us.”
“Hush your mouth! It’s about states’ rights! It will be a cold day in hell before I let a damn Yankee tell me what to do.”
“You would rather secede? Secession will lead to war. No one will win if it comes to that.”
“There is a time and place when a man has to take a stand for what he believes in. Loyalty…honor…duty—that is what Southerners hold to…”
“Christ Almighty! What is going on in here? What has this got to do with our problem at hand?” Wade interrupted. “We could have the Buchanans at our door any minute now with Jo under our roof. What will they find but our voices raised in enraged anger! Have we forgotten we are family and are not enemies?”
“Ask Cullen.” Clayton looked at him steadily. “The time is coming when sides will have to be chosen.”
“Is that what you want me to do, Grandfather?” Cullen asserted. “There are times when you have to fight. Are you sure this is one of those? Are we protecting our lives and homes or a way of life that should change? Where are our leaders who should stand up and demand that common sense prevail? They need to be heard before we launch into a path of no return.”
“We can take care of our own. Don’t need or want any Yankee interference! Do you believe that Yanks want our Negros if we freed them? You fool yourself if you believe they are interested in their welfare. Their leaders want only to hold power over us. It is their one intent. So, yes, Cullen, we are protecting our lives and homes from an enemy.”
“Protecting how? With commitment and honor? I know no better men than those I call my friends and family here in the South. Truly men of character, but the truth is character will not protect one from cannon fire. Have you considered what you will face?
“Beyond your indignation and outrage…behind the cotton, slaves, and a whole lot of puffed up arrogance of Southern gentleman…the North holds the factories, foundries, shipyards, iron and coal mines.”
“Blasphemy! I will not have it in my home!”
“Hold!” Wade demanded, coming between the two with arms outstretched to keep his grandfather from physically trying to remove Cullen. “What has brought this about?”
Cullen made a quick, despairing gesture. “My purpose was to address the issue with Josephine. Grandfather chose to turn the conversation, diverting my attention. But ask him…ask him what his arrangement with Randolph Wragg was before you married…when Percival was alive.”
“Of course there was an arrangement. You know that, Cullen.” Wade threw a quizzical look at Cullen, and then his grandfather, only to have his grandfather stare back at him in defiance. Wade’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell have you done, Grandfather?”
Clayton’s voice was filled with a pain that would never fade. “Do you know what it is like to find your son dead…shot in the head? His brains splattered against the back of the wall and know…and know…” His face hardened as he choked on the words. “That he pulled the trigger himself because of one man…one man…Brantley Wright.”
A hush fell over the room. Clayton lifted his chin and met his grandsons’ stares. “I have done nothing to be ashamed of protecting my family’s name and honor. Nothing.”
“Grandfather,” Wade said at last. “I know you have long held it against Brantley Wright, but I looked into it myself. Do you not believe I, too, wanted to blame someone for my father’s weakness? I even told Josephine her father was a liar and a cheat. Sometimes the truth hurts, but we must face it.
“I talked with Samuel Padley, father’s best friend…his only friend at the end. He said that Father was depressed, wouldn’t quit drinking, couldn’t…”
“Stop gambling. Is that what you’re going to say?” Clayton muttered despairingly. “Douglas wanted only to pay back what he lost that night. He kept trying but it was never enough. Douglas swore he would pay me back, but…he kept losing. If not for that one damn night, he would never have taken his life. Wright took him for every cent he was worth.”
Wade did not relent, but pressed forward. “Tell me, Grandfather. Tell me something I don’t know, because I can tell you all I have learned. I know well the night you talk about…the night after the New Market race. Father won big at the races. When he went over to Lester Dengate’s, he was looking for a bigger score. His mistake—he sat at Wright’s table.”
“Cheated him…Wright did,�
�� Clayton snapped. His shoulders drooped; his breathing labored. “By the time I got there, Wright had that godforsaken snake smile plastered on his face. Oh, Wright won big that night.”
“I understand that Wright is a skilled gambler, Grandfather. I would wager he knows well how to play people. It is foolishness and arrogance to sit at his table. I take it Henry Buchanan was also there that night?” Cullen asked.
Clayton nodded. “Shortly after, Henry took in his granddaughter. Then slowly…little by little, Brantley Wright began manipulating the world around us.”
“Harry Lee said that Wright holds the mortgage on Magnolia Bluff,” Cullen said.
“What?” Wade looked stupefied with surprise.
The conversation went no further. A commotion in the foyer disturbed the discussion. A moment later, the door flew open. A man dressed in a black broadcloth suit with a white ruffled shirt and black tie walked into the room.
Despite not being overly tall, he carried himself with an air that gave weight to his presence. His hair, black with streaks of gray, lent to a distinguished look; his goatee was closely trimmed. Cullen looked into his face and met his dark black eyes.
Brantley Wright had come to Magnolia Bluff.
* * * *
In the privacy of the parlor, Brantley Wright showed little emotion in greeting his only child. He was ominously silent when he kissed Josephine.
Jo cared little about her father’s subdued response. She wrapped her arms about him and kissed him warmly on both cheeks.
“Oh, Papa!” Jo’s tears threatened. “Harry Lee said you had died! Do not scare me like that! I wrote and wrote—”
“Jo.” He glanced behind her. “Are you going to introduce me to your beau?”
Jo’s spirits soared. He wanted to meet Cullen! She reached behind her and grasped hold of Cullen’s hand. “Lieutenant Cullen Smythe, this is my father, Mr. Brantley Wright.”
Cullen bowed his head slightly. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.”
“I have heard a great deal about you, Lieutenant,” Wright said. “My father-in-law told me that you asked permission to call upon my daughter.”