by Jerri Hines
“I would like the opportunity to talk with you also.”
Wright raised his cold, bright eyes and nodded stiffly. A frown flickered across his face. “I will arrange a time. Would it seem rude if I ask but a moment to speak to my daughter…alone… for a few minutes?”
“Not at all.” Cullen took a few steps back toward the door.
Jo caught her breath. Oh, Papa had dismissed Cullen! She looked over, apologetic, at him; he simply winked and pulled the sliding door together. The room took on a somber air with a heavy, stern gloom about it.
“Now, Josephine, I am greatly disturbed to hear of your conduct. You have incited another scandal to our name.” Brantley Wright looked directly at his daughter. “I’m disappointed that you forgot your rearing. It is shameful…disgraceful.”
Jo’s instincts went on alert. This was not the reunion she had hoped. Suddenly, she felt like the child again who had leaped into Charleston Harbor. A cold pang of guilt assaulted her that she had disgraced her father by her scandalous conduct.
“I wish I could defend myself properly, but I fear you have heard the worst. I’m ashamed that I have caused you hurt. It was not my intent.”
“I could excuse your impropriety if you had been raised differently. Your poor momma wanted you to be accepted. It was her dying wish. I have gone to great lengths to hold to my promise to her.”
Jo lowered her head. She had failed her momma. She choked back her tears.
“Look at me, Jo. Do not hide behind tears. It will not work. You are not a fragile flower that wilts on the vine. You are too much like me.” He scowled. “I want to know what happened from your lips. There will certainly be recourse.”
Her head snapped up. Did he mean he would call out those he felt offended her? A duel over her honor?
“Papa, there is no need. Truly. Cullen…Lieutenant Smythe offered for me. He asked Grandpa Henry all proper and such. There again, Grandpa Henry turned him down when Taz Foster asked to call upon me…but after yesterday…” she rambled. Nervousness gripped her. “Yesterday, Lieutenant Smythe bought Heyward to save him from that nasty Miller…he freed him.”
Brantley stared at his daughter. He had always been a hard man to read, more so at this moment. “Lieutenant Smythe wants to marry you? That was not my understanding.”
“Oh, yes, he does,” she added hastily. “He would have certainly talked with you first, but you were not here. You will like him, Papa. I know. He stepped in when those awful rumors of Wade began. Then he stopped me when I was leaving to look for you. He took the money from me…”
“My God, child, what is in your head?” he roared. “Is that where your account went to? I was notified it was closed.”
Taken back by his intensity, she nodded. “I’m sorry. It was only…only I didn’t have anywhere else to turn. Grandpa Henry wanted me to marry that awful Mr. Miller. I couldn’t have that…I couldn’t. I took my dowry…”
“Your dowry? You think that account was your dowry?”
“I thought so until yesterday. Harry Lee…Harry Lee said some confusing things, Papa. Truly, he did. Why, he said I was an heiress of some sort…Papa, he wanted to shoot Cullen and…Papa, he wanted me to marry him. Harry Lee! I would never!”
Jo was scared, her heart heavy with fright. Her father’s face turned a million shades of red. His temper flared.
“It is obvious that I’m hearing two different tales.” Frowning, Wright raised a severe eye at his daughter. “There is a carriage waiting for us. I need to speak to the Montgomerys for a moment. Then we will depart immediately for Charleston.”
She wanted to protest, but her father was not one to be questioned. “Gillie and Miss Hazel?”
“I will see to their welfare.”
Jo hesitated before she left the room. “Papa, I’m sorry for the pain this has caused you, but for the life of me, I understand none of how it got so out of control. I will confess to seeing Wade, but only with Gillie present. He had thought…” She paused. It seemed so long ago now. “It does not matter what he thought. It was not meant to be. He was a gentleman, Papa. It was less than Grace Ann ever did.”
Her father’s frown deepened, but he made no attempt to halt her. She went on, “I have tried to be the lady you wanted, Papa. Truly, I have. It pains me to have hurt you so.”
“Tell me only this, Josephine. Wade Montgomery wanted to marry you?”
Confused, Jo nodded. “It was what he told me…only his family made him hold to Percival’s commitment. He—”
He raised his hand to halt her thought. “It is all I needed to know. Go wait for me. I won’t be long.”
Chapter Twelve
Charleston in the early afternoon was a splendid place to host a garden party. It was a fine May day with flowers in their full glory: azaleas, gardenias, and roses. The magnolia tree held magnificent blooms. A nice sea breeze cooled Grace Ann’s back lawn.
The house was on Water Street, right around the corner from the Montgomerys’ Charleston residence. A typical home for the area, it had three floors with a piazza on each level covered in ivy. A wrought-iron fence surrounded the property.
When the visitors were announced, Jo, Grace Ann, and Aunt Sybil had already begun entertaining on the veranda. Jo glanced up to notice Phyllis Wilder and her mother entered the room. Jo picked up her skirt and walked over to greet them.
“Why, Josephine, how sweet you look in that dress,” Phyllis exclaimed as she kissed Jo’s cheek. “The color does flatter you so.”
“I do believe that I have never seen such lovely creations. The poor butterflies won’t know where to light with all these beauties in the garden. Look over your shoulder, Phyllis. Why, Lora has on a gorgeous pink silk with a garland of tiny matching rosebuds. Have you ever seen such a sight? I must ask her how she entwined the buds in her hair. Don’t you think, Jo?”
Jo turned to her companion and smiled. Clarissa had been by her side since she arrived in Charleston four weeks ago. She had learned quickly that one didn’t have to answer Clarissa. A simple smile would do.
Charlotte came up beside her and squeezed her arm. She whispered, “You have company.”
Jo glanced back beyond Charlotte to the back of the garden. He was there under the magnolia tree. Immediately, she slid back from the group.
She slipped down the stairs and made her way to Cullen. She had not seen him since the day her father arrived at Magnolia Bluff. He had departed to Philadelphia for a brief visit. Letters had been exchanged, but nothing more. Now he had returned; her heart fluttered.
How everything had changed since her father’s appearance! Not one whisper of her adventure had emerged into the winds of Charleston society. Jo learned quickly the influence Brantley Wright’s presence wielded.
“You have returned!” Jo cried, a little too loudly. She gave little thought to the old matrons’ eyes. Surely nothing would be deemed inappropriate, not in plain view of all those in attendance. She refrained herself from doing what she really wanted…to have slung herself into his arms.
“Only this morning. I came first to my grandfather’s house to refresh myself,” he said with a wide grin. “Then I had to see you.”
He looked quite handsome and, oddly, relaxed. Dressed in tan breeches and a fine white linen shirt, he took his hat off. “You look breathtaking,” he went on. “I have missed you.”
“Oh, Cullen, I can hardly contain myself. I have waited for this moment.”
“Be patient only a little while longer. I go to meet with your father down at the Pavilion.”
He did not have to say the words. He was going to ask formally for her hand! Papa would have to say yes. She hadn’t a doubt he would consent. Had Papa not told her to be prepared?
Jo clutched her heart. “I cannot believe it is real.”
“I informed my father of my intentions, who gave his blessing. I told you that he would. My family cannot wait to meet you. They wished only it would not happen so fast, for I told them I could wait
no longer. I want a small wedding in Charleston, but I fear a large reception will await our arrival. Mother…my stepmother…Monica, will insist upon it.”
“I do not care if it is only us. I have told Papa I wanted nothing more than to be your bride.”
“I go to make it a reality.” He reached in his pocket. “Before I forget, I have correspondences for your girl, Gillie.”
“Heyward.” She took the letters. “Gillie will be so pleased. He is well?”
“He has recovered fully and accepted a position as my father’s man. I will admit that Father was impressed. A former slave so…what was the word my father used…educated.”
Jo lowered her gaze. Warmth flood her face. “It was me…well, not so much. It was Gillie…Miss Hazel was so proud her son could read and write,” she stuttered.
“Jo, look at me,” Cullen commanded. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to find his smiling warmly at her. “Father was pleased with Heyward.”
“Are you? To have a wife who so clearly ignores the law.” Her voice faded for fear someone would overhear. “What you must think of me!”
“I find myself the luckiest of men.” He grinned. “Go enjoy your party. Meet me here later, before supper. I like this spot. Under a magnolia tree. A fitting place, for every time I see one, I think of my magnolia.”
She watched him slip out of the back of the garden. Her heart filled with joy. She turned and rejoined the party.
* * * *
The Pavilion Hotel sat on the corner of Meeting Street and Hasell in the heart of Charleston. It had not surprised Cullen that it was here that Brantley Wright had arranged his stay. It had surprised him that it had been Brantley who requested the meeting.
Cullen had planned on calling on him upon his return, but he had barely placed his foot again on Charleston soil when he received a summons. A summons he would not ignore.
The peal of bells from the church steeple resounded out the open windows. Cullen sat and awaited the man’s entrance. Having met the man at Magnolia Bluff, Cullen understood his grandfather’s intense dislike for the man.
Brantley wasted no sympathy for Clayton Montgomery. Moreover, the man had taken a pompous attitude with his grandfather. Cullen half-expected the man to be thrown off the property, but it had not happened. Brantley Wright had left on his own accord and in his own time.
Cullen had spoken only briefly to the man. Brantley had cut off Cullen’s attempt for a discussion concerning Josephine.
“You have my heartfelt thanks for seeing to my daughter’s welfare. I want only to take care of certain arrangements before this talk. As you well imagine, I have many affairs to attend to. I will admit I have been caught off guard.”
To Cullen’s amazement, Wright had also thanked him for freeing Heyward and insisted on repaying him. Cullen discovered he was not a man to be refused.
“Go do what you must to see to Heyward’s arrangements. If it is my daughter that is your concern, you have my word: my daughter’s future will not be announced until your return.”
He had not been allowed to see Josephine, but letters flowed freely between the two without incident. Cullen realized that a step back was not uncalled for at this point. Brantley seemed to have a wisdom about him, understanding that love found in the midst of danger lent to a strange excitement…felt more deeply…more intensely…for the moment.
Cullen reasoned that Wright wanted to know how Cullen felt once the danger faded. Would his interest flame out? It had not; his feelings had not diminished. Moreover, he felt them more deeply.
“Lieutenant Smythe, it is good that you have come.”
Cullen stood on Wright’s entrance. The man gestured for Cullen to sit. “There is no need to be formal. I hope that your needs were seen to while you waited. I was about to have a drink. Would you care for one?”
“Certainly.”
Wright walked over to the cabinet and brought out a bottle of whiskey. He filled up two glasses. He handed one to Cullen. “It is the best in Charleston.”
Cullen held no doubt it was. He took a sip and gathered up his courage to address the issue at hand. “I want to talk to you of your daughter.”
Wright took a seat across from Cullen. “I expected as much.” He gestured with his hand for Cullen to wait for a moment. “First, before you say a word, let me explain my position.”
Wright stared at Cullen. Cullen sat, confused for a brief moment for the reason he would have fallen under the scrutiny of the man across from him. Confused until he remembered who Brantley Wright was…a professional gambler.
A skilled poker player could read his opponent, wasn’t prone to emotions and took an opportunity when it presented itself. Cullen wasn’t in the mood to get played.
“Relax, Lieutenant.”
“It is simply Cullen. I have resigned my commission.”
Wright nodded in a way that told Cullen he was digesting the information. He tilted his head to the side and pursued his lips together in thought. “I like you. Truly I do, Mr. Smythe,” he added. “I don’t like many people.
“You have shown yourself to be a man of character. A true gentleman. You have protected my daughter’s honor. You have shown yourself to be compassionate to a fellow human being, even if he was a slave. You have stood up to your grandfather. That alone tells of your courage.”
“It is who I am.”
“Yes, I suppose that is true.” Wright’s words hung in the air for a time. Finally, he went on. “Tell me what you think of me.”
“I know what most know, sir. You come from Camden, South Carolina, if I’m not mistaken. Made your way being a gambler. Then married Josephine’s mother, Lucinda Buchanan.”
Wright smiled. “I loved that woman. Really loved my wife. They buried my heart when they laid her in the ground. Can you understand a love like that?”
“I believe I can.”
“I hope so, Mr. Smythe. I hope so,” Wright repeated. He swirled his glass and stared at its contents. “Lucinda wanted her daughter to be brought up surrounded by those who loved her. Her reasoning had been she had been loved greatly; in turn, her daughter would be. When I left, I imagine Josephine was lonely and often frightened, but hoped she would be loved as Lucinda wished.
“I know my daughter well enough to know, no matter what, her courage would prevail to face the life I left her to have. I knew well that Charleston waited only for an opportunity to shun her. She is my daughter and I had insulted the good people of Charleston by daring to marry one of their own.”
Wright sat back and looked up at Cullen. “Most of the good people of Charleston believed Henry Buchanan took in his wayward child’s daughter out of the goodness of his heart. Why would he not? Living in the land of plenty, his plantation was large and sheltering a young girl presented no problem. That was not the case.”
Stillness lay heavy in the room. Cullen eyed the man questionably. Of course, Henry Buchanan took Jo into his home.
“I’m afraid you have lost me.”
“Henry Buchanan did not take Josephine in out of the goodness of his heart,” Brantley repeated. “He had to be persuaded.”
He set his glass down. “I was not born a rich man, Mr. Smythe, but I was born with a gift. I have used that gift to my full advantage. Make no mistake about my claim that I am a gentleman. Despite what you may have heard, I am no cheat. There has been no need.
“When you are in my profession, you learn to read people as I have read you as being honorable. I hold that you will not repeat what I tell you now.”
“You have my word,” Cullen said, fascinated by now of the tale unfolding before him.
“I have never been a doting father, but I love my daughter. I wanted her to have what I had not…what her mother wanted for her. Lucinda desired for Josephine to be raised here in Charleston as a lady, part of her family…the Buchanans. When I first presented the idea to Henry Buchanan after Lucinda’s death, he refused. Not that it should have shocked me. The man had refused to see his dyi
ng daughter when I sent for him.”
Anger took hold of his voice. He rose and walked to the window. Composing himself, he turned back to Cullen.
“While my wife was taking her last breath, I told her that her father had tried to be by her side. I told her that her father begged forgiveness and that he wanted her to know he loved her. He would take Josephine to raise. It calmed her before her death, but it was all a lie. But I pledged to keep my word.”
“You beat Buchanan on a wager to convince him to take in Jo.”
Wright laughed—a harsh, cruel laugh. “At the time, I came back to Charleston for one purpose. I came back for revenge, using their arrogance and greed against them.”
“Them?”
“The Charleston elite,” Wright said with indignation. “They shunned Lucinda for marrying me. They shunned her.”
Wright took a sip of his drink and stared off into nothingness. Composed a moment later, he turned back to Cullen. “What you need to know is that the stakes were high. I played with only one intent, knowing well who I played against. Men who carried themselves like they were holier than God himself. In truth, nary a one of them had a white soul.
“Buchanan lost enough to agree to take Josephine until her marriage while Douglas Montgomery…”
Cullen couldn’t refrain himself. “You broke my uncle, Mr. Wright. He killed himself.”
“If he killed himself, it was not over his loss to me,” Wright countered. “I gave him an out. I offered him a deal.”
Cullen realized that this story held importance. An ominous feeling enveloped him.
“I want you to understand my intent, Mr. Smythe. I didn’t want his money. I wanted for Josephine to be accepted. The best way that could happen would be as a member of one of the oldest, respected families in Charleston. She herself comes from one…except for my black mark against her. For her mother’s sake, I wanted Josephine to be mistress to a grand plantation.”
“Magnolia Bluff.”
Wright shrugged lightly. “In exchange for the money he owed me, Douglas agreed we would arrange a marriage between his eldest boy and Josephine when she was old enough. Then Clayton Montgomery decided to interfere with our arrangement.