Southern Legacy: Completed Version

by Jerri Hines

  “Clayton tried valiantly to save his plantation. It is expensive to maintain a large household while your son is out drinking and gambling away money he doesn’t have. Douglas kept on gambling to the point where the only option was to mortgage Magnolia Bluff.”

  “Harry Lee said you held the mortgage on Magnolia Bluff.”

  “Harry Lee is another matter…one, I assure you, that has been addressed.”

  Cullen realized that Harry Lee had disappeared. Where he had gone was a mystery, but it was a mystery Cullen wouldn’t pursue. He had faith Brantley Wright had taken care of the situation.

  “But Harry Lee wasn’t wrong. You do own the mortgage on Magnolia Bluff.”

  “Yes. Your grandfather went to Wragg’s bank, where Wragg arranged a mortgage. Shortly after, your cousin was engaged to his daughter. After his death, it seems your other cousin married her. I’m afraid your grandfather was under the impression that the marriage would save his precious Magnolia Bluff. He is no longer under that impression.”

  Good Lord! All this time…the scandal…Josephine was supposed to have married Wade? Instead…

  “Wait. This makes no sense.” Cullen’s voice waned. “Something is wrong.”

  “You must realize by now that upon my daughter’s marriage she will become mistress of Magnolia Bluff. I truly wish it could have been you.”

  Shocked by Wright’s utterance, Cullen said, “It can be, sir. Surely you don’t want your daughter in the middle of this madness. I can well support your daughter in the manner you desire. I will take her away.…”

  “Up North? While I acknowledge you make a compelling argument, you are a Yankee. It will never do. Josephine has been raised to be a Southern Belle. A Southern Belle she will remain.”

  “I must strongly protest!” Cullen stood in disbelief.

  “It will do no good. It has been set.”

  “I love your daughter. I will see to her welfare and happiness. This I promise—”

  “Let’s not make this harder than it has to be,” Wright said. “Tell me you don’t feel the political landscape. The political rhetoric is hard to ignore on either end. South Carolina wants to secede. If the dispute widens, my presumption is that your loyalty would lie with the North.”

  “It makes little difference to us. Our—”

  “Love? You believe that love conquers all. Don’t be a fool. My wife was disinherited from her father. It was a hurt that never healed. I know your history, also. Your mother returned home to have you. Tell me why she did not return?”

  Silence encompassed the room. A hopeless silence. He would not accept it. No…he would not lose the woman he loved.

  “Don’t, Mr. Smythe. Don’t consider going against my wishes. If you love her, let her go. Trust me. It will be for the best. If you do not believe me, ask your grandfather.”

  * * * *

  A puff of sea breeze swept through the garden. Night had fallen and still she sat. She had not moved from the bench despite the darkness…despite the words her father had uttered. She pulled her shawl around her shoulder. She felt a chill, but not from the gust of wind…from her heart.

  He had not come. He promised, but he had not come. Her heart had been ripped from her, leaving only a void.

  “Jo, it’s time to come inside.”

  She glanced back to see her papa walk up beside her. She said nothing. He sat down with her. Silent tears streamed down her face.

  “Why, Papa, why? I love him so.”

  He placed his arm about her and she laid her head on his shoulder. She wept.

  “In time, you will understand.”

  She wanted to scream; she would never understand! She understood only one thing. Her need for Cullen.

  “I will not leave you until everything has been settled. I should have never left the last time. I should have ensured that the agreement was carried out to my satisfaction. I let my disdain for this place influence my decision. It reminded me too much of your momma.”

  The mention of her mother softened her heart. “I loved her, too, Papa.”

  “Then know this was her wish: that you be accepted here in Charleston. It was her biggest regret that she was outcast.”

  Jo pushed back against his chest and looked into his eyes. “Papa, I know you love me, but don’t do this. Momma may have wanted to come home, but she never regretted marrying you. She told me so many times. I understand. I do, for I will never be happy without Cullen.”

  He shook his head. “You are wrong. She never complained, but I saw the hurt and pain in her eyes. I was the reason for that pain. I promised her on her dying bed. I have held to that promise.”

  “Oh, Papa, Momma would have wanted me to be married to a man such as Cullen. He loves me…oh, please, Papa…”

  “Josephine, it is settled. When you have married and the children come, you will forget him.”

  “Married?” Jo bolted upward. “Married? To whom?”

  “Andrew Montgomery.”

  Stunned, Jo stared at her father. She shook her head. She murmured, “No…I could never…I will never.”

  “You are a dutiful daughter and will do as you are told.”

  Jo stood. Panic surged through her. “Papa, I love you. Truly, I do, but I cannot do that. I could never marry Andrew Montgomery.”

  Retreating a couple of steps, she turned and bolted out the back gate into the street with only one thought in mind. Cullen.

  * * * *

  Night had fallen. Drink in hand, Cullen stood with his back to the window. Moonlight streamed into the room, touched his shoulders, and cast a forlorn shadow. He looked over at Wade. His cousin had down the contents of his glass and prepared to pour another.

  “I’m sorry, Wade.”

  Silence crashed around them. Wade seemed lost for words. It had not happened often. Only one other time had Wade been this quiet…when he had been informed of Percival’s death. Uncle Douglas’s passing had not been the same, even with the method of his demise.

  Years had prepared them for the path of destruction his uncle had journeyed. The grieving for the loss of a man haunted by demons began when Uncle Douglas drowned his problems with the bottle.

  The three of them—Percival, Wade, and himself—had tried to live up to their grandfather’s expectations, having held the man in high esteem. His word was law. It had been how they had been raised—striving to hold to the honor and duty their name demanded. Clayton Montgomery’s son had failed.

  The problem with holding a person high upon a pedestal: it makes for a much larger fall when the realization that the man is only human suffuses through you, thought Cullen. Never had he seen Clayton Montgomery so desperate, trying frantically to hold to the old world he had known. Cullen imagined his grandfather felt his control slip away from him.

  After his talk with Brantley Wright, Cullen had a confrontation with his grandfather…one that had not gone well. His grandfather confessed he had made an arrangement with Brantley Wright for Andrew…Andrew to marry Josephine…the last-ditch effort to maintain his plantation.

  Wade shook his head. “What is this world coming to, Cullen?”

  “It is changing. We can’t let it change us, Brother. I don’t know much at the moment, but I do know that.”

  “I’m so angry, but it is not directed at you. For the life of me, I can’t get the image out of my head of what Grandfather has done to me…to you. I could have everything I wanted in this life…and saved the family’s honor, had Grandfather not allowed his prejudice to ruin everything!”

  “What’s done can’t be undone.”

  “But, Cullen, what has been done?” Wade faced Cullen. “There’s more to this, Cullen. I feel it in my bones.”

  “I agree.” Cullen let the words hang before he went on. “Grandfather had to realize the chance he had taken to have gone against a man like Brantley Wright. I cannot help but think that Wragg is mixed up in this business at the bank.”

  “It is my fear,” Wade agreed. “It woul
d mean that I won’t be able to protest without placing not only Grandfather under scrutiny but my father-in-law.”

  “It will leave you with little recourse. If Wright and Grandfather get their way, Andrew will have control of what you thought would have been yours.”

  “Ironic, for Andrew wants nothing to do with what has been given him. Magnolia Bluff. An heiress for a wife. He is the one who feels he is making the sacrifice for the family.” Wade sighed. “My brother is as upset as we are about the set of circumstances, but there is another piece that disturbs me. Harry Lee.”

  The words reverberated in the room. Cullen had been told that Harry Lee had left Charleston, but no one seemed to know where or when he would return.

  “Wright contends that Harry Lee is no longer an issue. I assure you I will look into the matter,” Cullen promised. “Moreover, Wade, I need you to know I haven’t made up my mind what I intend to do. I know you still care for Josephine, but you have started a new life…one that I will help, if you allow.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Wright refused to sell Magnolia Bluff, but it does not mean that Andrew will not,” Cullen stated soberly. “I will help you secure the plantation from Andrew if it becomes his. I know what it means to you.”

  “I cannot accept a loan from…” Obvious relief flooded Wade’s face despite his surprise at the offer.

  “From your brother…of course you can,” Cullen said. “My own grandfather condemns me as a Yankee. He did not look to me as an heir despite my claim as his grandson, but surely you do not disinherit me.”

  “I know you have a Southern heart. Grandfather does also. It is only he cannot control you like he does Andrew and myself.”

  “I’m afraid I have no control myself. It gnaws at my soul and crushes me.”

  Silence again. Both men felt the weight of the truth while neither knew how to ease their pain.

  * * * *

  Jo raced to the Montgomerys’ home. She cared little what the neighbors thought if they saw her. She had to see him. Out of breath, she banged on the back door until one of the house blackies answered it.

  “Master Cullen. I need to see him.” She gulped for air.

  A new fear gripped her. What if Cullen wasn’t home? Whatever would she do? She paced outside the door for what felt like an eternity. The door opened.

  “Cullen!” she cried.

  He stood for a moment and stared at her. His eyes grieved. Understanding his hesitation, her eyes widened. “Oh, Cullen, tell me it is not so.”

  He rushed toward her. Taking her by the elbow, he uttered, “Come. We will find privacy.”

  Jo hurried beside him, her small steps barely in step with his. He did not slow until they reached the Battery.

  Standing against the backdrop of the Charleston harbor, utter wretchedness assaulted her, physically weakened and mentally broken. Her nerves were shaken; she made no effort to conceal her feelings.

  His eyes lit upon her. She could take no more. “Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “I can take anything but the knowledge you don’t want me.”

  He reached over and caressed her face. “It has nothing to do with my feelings toward you.”

  “Papa…Papa wants me…to marry…Andrew,” she said, desperately trying to find her words. She clutched his hand. “I cannot…not when I love you.”

  “Oh, my sweet magnolia, I wish things were different. Your father took a great effort to explain your situation. It is complicated. It tears at the ties that bind between honor and duty. If I gave in to my desires, I would sweep you up North.”

  “Please, Cullen, I will go.”

  He shook his head. “Our love would change. Over time, our passion will turn to resentment, then, God forbid, apathy. I could not live with that. It is best if what we had becomes a remembrance.”

  A sudden anger surged through her. She pushed away from him. “Go then! I care not. You are no more than a coward. No better than anyone else in my life. Promises made, only to be broken. Hold on to your honor and duty and know I will give myself to another!”

  For a breathless moment, the world stilled. The ocean waves pounded against the stone wall, spewing water all around them. She became oblivious of everything around her except Cullen.

  Suddenly, she felt his hand around her waist. He drew her into his arms. He leaned down and kissed her. He deepened the kiss. She couldn’t think; she could only feel…

  “I’ll be damned if another touches you,” he whispered against her lips. “I can’t fight this. I choose you, always you.”

  “Everything will be all right as long as we are together,” she answered. She kissed him, sliding her fingers into his hair.

  Lost in his touch…his kiss…she didn’t hear another approach, but she heard a scream. Abruptly, Cullen broke from her lips, but did not release his hold.

  Running up to the couple, Gillie slowed only when she reached her mistress’s side.

  “Oh, Miss Jo, you have to return. Immediately. It’s your father…he’s collapsed. Miss Grace sent me for you. You need to come…he looked…oh, Miss Jo!”

  Jo stared at Gillie in disbelief. She had just been with her father. He had seemed so alive. Slowly, ever so slowly, she stepped back. Tears welled in her eyes…for her father…for Cullen…for herself, she didn’t know. She was only aware of an overwhelming ominous feeling that enveloped her.

  She looked at Cullen, a pleading look. There was no need. He took her hand and together they made their way back to the house.

  * * * *

  The room took on a gloomy frost. Brantley Wright laid deathly ill in bed. Jo watched him sleep. He seemed at peace, but she refused to leave his side. He would waken and immediately ask for her.

  The doctor had come and gone. There was nothing more to be done. It was her father’s heart. The fever he had contracted had weakened it.

  “With the heart, it is hard to say,” Doctor Jameson informed her. “But, Miss Wright, be prepared. I doubt, even if he survives this bout, that he will live through the year.”

  Jo refused to believe the doctor. Not her father. He was so strong…invincible.

  “Jo.” Her papa opened his eyes a slit to see whether she was still beside him. He closed them again. Then with effort, he said, “You gave your word.”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “It is for the best. You will see.”

  She gulped back the tears she didn’t seem to be able to contain. She could not deny she was truly Southern, instilled with virtues of loyalty, honor, duty to God and family. It was the tie that binds. She would not break her word.

  “Rest, Papa.” She gave him the comfort he sought. “Your lawyer has already been by the house. It has been arranged. I will not fight it. I will marry Andrew.”

  Content, he slept once more. She rose and walked over to the window.

  Outside, life went on as it had always. The sun shined, the birds sang, and the tide came in and out. When she told Cullen her decision, his expression had not altered. He had expected it and made no objections.

  She had not seen him since the night her father collapsed. Charlotte had told her he had withdrawn back to Philadelphia.

  Presented to the world surrounding her, she now had all anyone could ask for—wealth, privilege, and the promise of marriage to one of the oldest, respected names in Charleston. Why then did she feel so utterly alone? She wondered forlornly however was she going to survive each day. Cullen was gone!

  Suddenly, the indomitable spirit that lived within her surged forth. Oh, good gracious! She could not afford to wallow in self-pity. Was she not her father’s daughter? She would never let the world see the pain that tore at the core of her being. No…Never. She would hold her head high like a true belle of Charleston.

  PART TWO

  SHADOWS OF MAGNOLIA

  Chapter One

  A warm, southeasterly breeze sprang up just before Josephine Buchanan Wright walked out of St. Philip's Church. She paused in the portico and e
njoyed the gentle caress. A much-needed reprieve from the hot, sweltering heat of August.

  She had only recently returned to Charleston, having spent the early summer on Pawley's Island. Papa had rented a fine, airy house down along the shoreline, private and perfect for his recovery from heart failure. With having only to throw back the shutters and inhale the cool light ocean wind, Jo found it a temporary escape from the tangled web her life had become.

  Long, lazy days, she cared for her papa. The time spent lounging on the beach under a large parasol and sitting on the side porch sipping on mint lemonade, enjoying visitors that came and went.

  Charlotte visited briefly, and then journeyed with her momma over to Columbia to see relatives. Grace Ann followed Charlotte's stay accompanied by Mr. Whitney.

  "Mr. Whitney is taking me to London!" Grace Ann informed Jo. "It is a shame that I won't be at your wedding, but Mr. Whitney felt it only proper to see you before we departed."

  Jo had no desire to even think of her upcoming wedding to Andrew Montgomery. Charleston was miles away; the wedding, not until the end of the summer. She had decided to live in the moment.

  It had been a delightful stay. Alongside Grace Ann, Jo seemed to relive days gone by of childhood. She laughed and giggled with Grace Ann like they had done when they had been children, enjoying picnics on the beach and wading in the surf. It was good to laugh. She thought she had forgotten how.

  Papa spent a great deal of his time in talks with Mr. Whitney. Jo suspected it had to do with her grandfather and cousins. Papa steadfastly refused to discuss it with her, assuring her she had nothing to fear.

  Grace Ann hinted that Harry Lee and Buck had been exiled from their home state.

  "I swear I don't know what got into their heads, but now they are heaven knows where assuredly regretting their behavior. Why they can't set foot back in Charleston, not without fear of repercussions from your papa!" Grace Ann tried to make light of it. "Momma is saddened by their actions. She believes they did it to save the family. I honestly believe that was purely selfish on their part. Men are selfish creatures, but they most assuredly would not have done you harm."