by Jerri Hines
As she attempted to rise, Wade grasped tight to her hand. She settled back down. He loosened his grip as he went on. “Miss Hazel has gone with her family into Charleston. I won’t lie to you. Harry Lee inflicted damage to Gillie long before we realized she was within his control. Trust that Andrew is seeing to her welfare. She is in good hands. Andrew believes she will recover…but not here. It’s imperative they leave Charleston immediately.”
“For goodness’ sakes, you can’t mean without me seeing her. That will never do—”
“There is little choice, Jo. Gillie wasn’t the only one gravely injured. In his rescue attempt, Cullen stabbed Harry Lee, critically wounding him. He is hovering between life and death. I have been told they doubt Harry Lee will survive the night. If he dies, Cullen will be a wanted man. There aren’t many in these parts who will take kindly to what he did.”
“He can’t leave…he wouldn’t just leave me. I have to go.”
“No,” Wade stated in a firm tone. “You aren’t leaving the plantation as it stands. Not until I get the matter settled. I have to make peace with your family. For everyone’s sake.”
“I am to be a prisoner? I think not.”
“You are not a prisoner in your own home. You are understandably upset and need to rest.” He took her by the shoulders to force her to look at him. “I will stay with you until you sleep. We will talk more in the morning before I leave.”
Recoiling, she hissed, “This is your doing! You have what you want…your precious Magnolia Bluff, but I won’t have it. I’m going to them. Gillie needs me…Cullen…Cullen would never leave me. He will come.”
“Have you lost your mind? You are now my wife. Cullen will not come. I made certain he understood my position. I suppose now I need to make myself clear to you. You will have no further contact with Cullen,” Wade commanded. “You may write to Gillie, of course.”
Jo was speechless. Her heart sickened while anger churned within her being. Her tone went cold, and her body stiff. “You are too kind. Now please leave me with my grief.”
“Josephine, you know I will never leave you. Given time, you will see that everything will work out for the best. This is what your papa wanted. He realized that you and I are cast from the same mold…the same viewpoints and traditions. I gave your papa my solemn word that I would look after your welfare.” He reached for her. “I know you are hurt—”
“Don’t touch me! You don’t know my pain…being ripped from the arms of the man I love. No one will love me the way Cullen did….touch me the way he did…no one…” Suddenly, she saw Wade’s expression harden.
“Love you? Touch you?” Wade drawled slowly. “Tell me, my bride, how exactly did my dear cousin touch you?”
Unable to find her voice, Jo lowered her gaze, experiencing the chill of a sober consciousness of the reality of her new world. It saddened her more than she ever expected. Cullen was gone…he wasn’t coming back. She was left alone to face her husband…Her husband!
There was no way to avoid the inevitable. Oh, Lord, he will shame me when he discovers the truth! She looked back up at his cold glare.
“Cullen touched me deeply…he touched my soul. We had planned to spend the rest of our lives together,” Jo whispered as she tried desperately to contain her welling emotions. “And we would have if I hadn’t been so cruelly tricked. Is it not enough you have gotten your precious plantation? Do you want to know if your wife is chaste? I’m afraid in that you will be disappointed.” She swallowed hard. “Moreover, the thought of anyone else touching me in that manner disgusts me.”
Wade’s temper flared at the obvious insinuation. His eyes blazed and teeth bared, betraying his fury. Frightened, she edged off the bed and stumbled back against the wall. Immediately, he closed the gap between them.
Her arm gripped tightly, Wade jerked her into a rough embrace. “You gave yourself to him,” he growled under his breath. “For shame, after all your father did for you to be thought of as a lady.”
She pushed back against his chest and slapped him, hard across his face. She lifted her head in defiance. “Shame is not what I feel. It was not that way.”
“What way is that, my dear? The way a man will tell you anything to get what he wants? You think he loves you? If he did, he would never have left you. Cullen rode out knowing you would marry me…knowing he had lost Magnolia Bluff.”
“You lie,” she cried. “Cullen had no desire for Magnolia Bluff. He loves me!”
“You silly fool! You do not know my cousin as well as you thought, for Cullen craved Magnolia Bluff as much as I.” Wade laughed in a harsh manner. His hard gaze made her step back. His cruel words had hit their mark, but he did not relent. “He left you when he recognized he had no chance of winning. If he cared for you as you insist, he would never have taken your virtue…never left in disgrace to face your husband. So don’t tell me that he loves you.”
“You...that...that has to be a lie.” Jo’s voice cracked. Wade had cut her to the quick. She wanted to defend Cullen…to declare that he did love her more than anything…but...had it truly been a lie? She had wanted Cullen to take her away from this place. He had hesitated and now was gone. Her heart ached. Had she been deceived?
”My poor darling, sacrificing herself for the man she loves…”
Jo turned away as a terrible void filled her, heartbroken with the comprehension she had no one. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. “Leave,” she said in a voice no louder than a whisper. “You have what you want. Now leave me with my memories of what I have lost.”
For a moment, she thought he would protest, but he pivoted on his heels and left her alone with tears and doubts and too many questions. She flung herself upon the bed and cried herself until she finally slept.
Chapter Two
Despite the rumblings of secession, Charleston was more alive than ever. The apex of the winter season had commenced, Race Week. Most years, Wade would have found himself in the midst of all the activities. Hell, he would have been the center of attention.
Race Week officially began the racing season, which ran from the early Charleston spring into the summer in Virginia. The love of horses ran in Wade’s blood. Outside of Beaufort, his Uncle William had maintained a stud farm of some of the finest breeding stock in the Carolinas.
As a boy, Wade, Percival, and Cullen had spent many a day at the horse farm, where they had learned to ride. Wade had always strove to better Percival’s horsemanship. Although more than adequate in the saddle, he never surpassed his brother’s skill on a horse, but no one had a better eye for racehorses than Wade. He had become renowned for his uncanny ability to pick horses that would be developed into winners.
However this afternoon, horse racing was the furthest thing from his mind. Only minutes earlier, Wade had left his lawyer’s office. After much debate, the decision had been made to extend an olive branch…a legal contract…to the Buchanans. Wade was determined that this vendetta would end—today.
He had given his word to Wright that he would give Josephine the life Wright envisioned for his daughter. If nothing else, he had always been a man of his word…ordinarily.
“It is more than a generous offer, Wade,” Morgan said. “And one I feel Mr. Wright would be in total agreement. It will allow Henry Buchanan to live out his days, managing his estate as if it is his. The strong language in the document will leave no doubt that if the Buchanans fail in the terms, the Groves, along with one hundred thousand dollars, would immediately revert back into your hands.”
“I trust you have made it clear that if any harm befalls my wife, I will demand not only the Groves but the income from the estate in that time span, along with interest.”
“Read over the document slowly. It is plainly stated,” Morgan advised. “I will take it myself to the Groves this evening. I realize the urgency.”
Wade read it over twice and everything seemed in order. He looked up at Morgan. “The last word I received said that Harry Lee was barely clin
ging to life. I want this signed whether or not he survives. The rumors need to be smothered. Henry Buchanan needs to understand the consequences if he doesn’t comply.”
“The arrangement is a benefit to both parties,” Morgan said. “I will make sure he understands. I don’t foresee any issues. Mr. Whitney has returned to Charleston and offered to come with me to help convey the importance of ending this once and for all.”
Confident one obstacle had been hurdled, Wade now had to inform his grandfather. He held no doubt that his grandfather would not be happy. Grandfather wanted to ruin Henry Buchanan, but, in Wade’s opinion, that action would only serve to facilitate the feud.
After the meeting, Wade decided to walk back to his Charleston home. He needed time to think. Josephine worried him. To be honest, his mind was never far away from his bride, whom he had left at Magnolia Bluff alone.
He felt confident she was in no danger at the plantation. He had made certain of that with his trusted servants and the guards he had hired to oversee her welfare. Her safety wasn’t what troubled him, but how he was to bridge the wide gulf that had emerged between them.
Cullen had departed Charleston, along with Miss Hazel, Heyward, and Gillie. Andrew had seen to the arrangements. Though Cullen had honored Wade’s request and had made no effort to see Jo before he left, a fear surfaced that Cullen would always be a ghost between Jo and himself.
For the past year, Wade had been so engrossed in his woes. His every waking moment had been filled with Magnolia Bluff…he had felt it so close within his grasp. It had been his sole intent to have the estate back in control of the family.
Magnolia Bluff had been the reason he had let Josephine leave for Philadelphia. The little conniving thing had tricked him. Anger gripped the core of his being. If he had called her bluff…if he had done what he had desired and taken her in that moment, none of this would have happened.
Fear was the reason he had let her go…fear that the family would lose Magnolia Bluff… their heritage, not because he didn’t love her. God in heaven! He loved the woman! Even now, that love tore at his soul. He should have said proprieties be damned! He should have…
As he turned the corner, Wade walked toward the house. He heard voices…feminine voices on the portico. He strode up to the door to find his sister, Jenna, sitting beside the new addition to the Montgomery household, that Yankee woman his brother married, Kathleen.
Impatient to see Grandfather, Wade glanced over at the woman. She was beautifully dressed and expensively, if not somewhat warm for Charleston’s climate. She wore a deep purple gown accented with black stripes. The large ostrich plume hat drooped quite fashionably over her crown. Her pelisse matched her gown trimmed with black fur.
He cared little for her before he met Kathleen and less now he had had the pleasure. Never would he consider her a beauty, seeing little reason his brother would have fallen under her spell. He sensed an intrinsic coldness and self-absorption about her. Not to mention, he had not seen a sign of affection toward her husband.
“Why, Wade, I’m so glad you are here.” Jenna almost leaped from her chair. “You gotta talk some sense into our new sister.”
He grimaced and turned to Jenna. “What are you talking about?”
“I truly don’t see an issue.” Kathleen rose up to greet Wade. “Do tell Jenna that it is perfectly appropriate for Andrew and me to attend the Jockey Club’s dinner tomorrow night and then the ball on Friday night. Though, to be honest, I am so looking forward to attending one of the Montgomery’s Saturday night dinners I’ve heard so much about. I’m assuming you begin during Race Week.”
Wade exchanged a look with his sister. Her eyes pleaded with him for help. This was the last thing he needed to deal with. “Kathleen, you are new to Charleston. Given the circumstances of your nuptials, it may be for the best to be introduced to Andrew’s friends slowly and quietly.” His voice was sharp. “Moreover, you have to understand that my wife’s father has recently passed away. It would not be respectful to host a dinner party so soon after his death.”
“Oh, you are quite right, Brother Wade, and I don’t want to seem unfeeling, but your marriage hasn’t been announced. All so hush-hush. Why, your dear bride isn’t even in Charleston.” She smiled sweetly to dismiss the objection. “I had thought the dinner here on Saturday would serve as a wonderful introduction to all my husband’s friends and relatives. You have such a lovely home.”
Wade realized that Andrew must have talked of the renowned family dinners held in the blue parlor twice a month when the family resided in Charleston. The feasts were grand affairs that most of the wealthy and distinguished families of the low country had enjoyed at one time or another.
Held underneath the sparkling crystal chandelier, a table would extend across the room, filled with assortment of delicacies from shrimp pare to coconut pie. The Montgomery’s prosperity was displayed conspicuously for all to see. Beautiful damask linen lay on the table set in Staffordshire bone china, crystal glasses, and their silverware. Decanters were filled with various kinds of wines and Madeira flowed freely.
He shook his head at Kathleen’s insistence. “You need to talk with Andrew.”
Jenna grasped his hand and turned her back to Kathleen. “Stop her, Wade,” she whispered. “Momma has already told her it would not be proper.”
“It’s not my problem.” Wade maneuvered around his sister and went into the house. He didn’t need anything else to handle.
Wade slammed the door, moved across the high-ceilinged central foyer and up the stairs to the study. He walked into a fog of pipe tobacco smoke that hung over the room. As he expected, his grandfather sat in wait.
Wade glanced toward the man and made his way to the liquor cabinet. Despite the early hour of the afternoon, he needed a drink. He grabbed hold of the Irish whiskey and poured two glasses.
“Is there trouble?”
“At the moment, only Andrew’s annoying wife.” Wade pivoted around with the drinks, and handed one to his grandfather. “I thought Mother was going to talk to her and explain how things are done here in the South. Seems Kathleen wants to celebrate Race Week. Not to mention her desire for us to hold a dinner in her honor.”
“Your mother has talked to her. More than once. Afraid it has done no good. That woman’s got nerve. Does whatever she damn well pleases. It is evident that Andrew has no control. I told him for God’s sakes stop being such a spineless wimp. Man up and show a fucking backbone.”
Exasperation apparent in his face, Wade scowled deeply. “I want her out of this house. I won’t have her upset Jo. It is no secret she sent the letter to Wright that caused his heart attack.”
“Andrew knows he needs to find another place to live. I heard him tell her myself that they were going to have to find a house of their own. She doesn’t want to leave.”
Clayton Montgomery accepted his drink in one hand and flicked ashes off his cigar with the other. “Coldhearted bitch. She doesn’t care one iota how it looks for the family. In her condition, she’s out parading about town. Bad enough she’s a Yankee.”
Somehow Wade got the impression that Andrew’s bride couldn’t have cared less about the delicate situation the family was in at this time. Surely, Kathleen would have to realize that it would not be easily forgotten she had maliciously married an engaged man. People around here wouldn’t take too kindly to her actions nor would they soon forget.
“Andrew made his bed. He will have to sleep in it.” Wade drank down the contents of his glass, and then turned to pour another. He needed something to knock off the edge.
“Enough about Andrew. Out with it,” Clayton Montgomery demanded, his impatience worn thin with talk about the youngest grandson’s mistake. His jaw tightened as he squared off with Wade about the problem…the only problem…that mattered to him. “Is it settled?”
“By sunset, the agreement should be signed. Whether Harry Lee lives or dies, this vendetta is done.”
“At what cost?”
Wade watched his grandfather release another puff of smoke. The man sat back, smug, as if he had already assumed Wade had made a colossal mistake. It kindled his anger. After years of being in Percival’s shadow, he had come to the conclusion that nothing he would do would ever be enough for Grandfather…He was not Percival. Even in death, he’d never equal Percival in his grandfather’s eyes.
With a small shrug, he sighed. “None to you, if that is your fear.”
“It’s not, Wade. I had a long talk with Whitney this morning while you were with Morgan. He said that you had put together an interesting proposition. That it was Wright’s wish.”
“I told you that myself,” Wade snapped. “Wright had no desire to hold on to the Groves and bankrupt his wife’s father. He only wanted for Buchanan to care for Jo, but I made certain there was a stipulation that Jo inherits the estate after his death in the agreement. So in reality, Grandfather, I have lost nothing.”
“That is what Whitney explained to me in full detail, but I didn’t think you could pull it off.” Clayton stood. He was a tall man, the same height as Wade, and looked eye to eye with his grandson. Over his lifetime, he had used his height to his full advantage when the circumstance allowed, intimidating those who he felt was beneath him…which, accordingly, was most everyone.
Wade had seldom seen his grandfather smile, but a small smile emerged as he held up his glass. Today, though, his old, gray eyes flashed a different sentiment. Was it admiration?
“Well done. A Montgomery through and through.”
Initially shocked at the response, Wade stared suspiciously at the old man. Some of his reservations yielded to his grandfather’s obvious elation. “I will feel better when I hear back from Morgan. I want those papers signed. Then I will feel safe that the Buchanans won’t retaliate no matter what happens to Harry Lee. I want peace. This whole state is already riled up against the Yanks. I don’t want Charleston to turn against us.”