Southern Legacy: Completed Version

by Jerri Hines

  “Go, my love. Have no doubt I will be well looked after. There will never be a perfect time for you to go. There will always be one thing or the other. We can’t live our lives in fear of what might be.”

  Cullen had gone with the greatest reluctance. She missed him so, but she had survived with the knowledge that soon he would return.

  * * * *

  The early morning sunlight filtered into the dining room. Sitting across from Elizabeth, Jo noticed her sister-in-law had scarcely touched her breakfast.

  “Are you certain?” Elizabeth wrung her hands.

  At first, Jo thought Elizabeth had been startled by the news, but now she swore Elizabeth was displeased. Holding the telegram in her hand, Jo made light of her confusion. “This is the best news, with Cullen returning earlier than he thought. I would have assumed you would have been delighted since you have devoted so much time with the children and myself.”

  “Of course. Of course.” Elizabeth nodded. “It is only...I shouldn’t say anything...but I had hopes of surprising the two of you. It is disappointing after all the careful planning to hear that my brother is returning early. Tomorrow you say.”

  “Surprising us? Oh, Elizabeth, what have you done?”

  “If I told you, it would completely ruin the surprise,” she said with a look that told she was at odds with herself on how to proceed. The chimes of the grandfather clock in the foyer rang eight times. She clasped her hands. “Oh, my! It is getting late. If Cullen is returning, then I have so much to do.” She pushed back her chair and rose. “I might be able to pull it off, yet. We’ll see.”

  “Elizabeth, you haven’t eaten. I hope you aren’t—”

  “Don’t worry, Josephine, I will make it perfect for you.” Elizabeth strolled over to the door. Muttering to herself, she went on. “Yes, yes. I believe I can still have everything set.”

  Jo frowned. Although she appreciated Elizabeth’s effort in trying to rectify her mistake in confiding family secrets to Kathleen, she had no desire to have a party in her honor, which was what she assumed Elizabeth had been rambling on about.

  She appreciated everything Elizabeth had done. Truly, she had, but she was in no mood for a celebration, nor did she want to hurt Elizabeth’s feelings. Oh, she missed Cullen terribly.

  ****

  The golden sun tinged a reddish glow and loomed over the horizon. The day was done. The children had bathed and prepared for sleep. Jo had promised them an extra half hour of playtime before she put them to bed. Mrs. Finnegan watched over the children while Jo sat in front of the fire in the bedchamber and read A Tale of Two Cities.

  She was almost done with the book and looked forward to finishing tonight. She had placed the mantel clock on the table in front of her. If she didn’t, she would lose track of time and the children would be up after their bedtime.

  Sensing a presence in her room, Jo looked up and saw Elizabeth in the doorway, wearing her cloak and gloves. She gestured for Jo to follow her. “It’s been prepared.”

  “What?”

  “My surprise,” Elizabeth said, ill-concealing her excitement. She walked over and took Jo’s hand, urging her upward. “You have to come with me now, though. Yes, you need to come with me. I have to show you.”

  “Elizabeth, it is late and I need to put the children to bed. Can it not wait until morning?”

  “No!” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “No, no, no. You have to come now. I have the carriage waiting out back.”

  “Carriage?” Jo rose slowly, placing her book carefully in her seat. “Elizabeth, I’m not going out tonight. I’m sorry—”

  “But you must. You must,” Elizabeth repeated. “I have already checked in with Mrs. Finnegan. She will put the children to bed.”

  “I have to protest. I always tuck the children in at night—”

  “It is Kathleen!” Elizabeth brusquely announced. “You need to come and see what I have done for you.”

  “Kathleen?” Jo stared at Elizabeth in confusion. Her sister-in-law scared her with her intensity. “Elizabeth, you need to calm down. Tell me what you have done.”

  “No,” Elizabeth stated firmly, seemingly outraged at Jo’s refusal. “You will ruin the surprise. You have to see it for yourself.”

  Jo gently put her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “Let’s go see your mother…”

  Elizabeth jerked her arm back. Her demeanor manner suddenly changed. She stated in a flat, dry tone, “It is you who doesn’t understand the magnitude of Kathleen’s hatred toward you. She is crazed. She told me she is going after your mammy. She intends to do her harm.”

  “Miss Hazel? Kathleen may be vindictive, but to harm another?”

  “Kathleen plans to go to the authorities in the morning and accuse Miss Hazel of stealing a necklace of hers. You know as well as I that at the least she will be arrested. Jail won’t bode well for a woman of her age. It is why I have the carriage readied. We must go and warn her. I would go myself, but I doubt she would believe me,” Elizabeth urged.

  “We have to tell your father.” Jo spoke her thoughts out loud. “I need to check on the children, get my cloak.”

  “I have your cloak.” Elizabeth grasped Jo’s hand. “I have already told Father. He has sent for Heyward, but I thought we could go and collect your mammy. She can stay in the servant quarters until the matter is settled.”

  “But, of course,” Jo agreed and followed Elizabeth. In the hall, the children’s laughter echoed. She hesitated. “The children.”

  “Are fine,” Elizabeth answered without hesitation. “It will only upset them if you tell them you are going out. Mrs. Finnegan will care for them. Come. We won’t be long.”

  Trepidation filled Jo. Something wasn’t right. Suddenly, she wished desperately Cullen was here. Sighing heavily, she realized logically she should wait until Mr. Smythe and Heyward responded to the threat, but she would never get any sleep if Miss Hazel was thrown into jail.

  Josephine nodded. “I’m ready.”

  As she pulled back the curtain of the carriage, Jo saw the sun waned in the distance. It would be dark soon.

  Turning back to Elizabeth, Jo asked, “Whose carriage is this?”

  “I borrowed Kathleen’s,” Elizabeth said with pride in her voice. “Is it not the most ingenious move? Now, Kathleen can’t go out.”

  “Kathleen’s? Oh, Elizabeth, it will only serve to infuriate her more,” Jo admonished. “Perhaps it will be best if you go back. We can use our carriage. There is no need to be so secretive. I would feel more comfortable.”

  Elizabeth sat back and said nothing. Jo stared at her sister-in-law. Elizabeth acted oddly, more so than usual. She had been so happy when she first came into her room with the news…

  “Elizabeth.” Jo broke the silence. “What was the surprise you prepared for me?”

  The carriage slowly drew to a halt. Glancing out the window, Jo pressed harder, “Where have you taken me, Elizabeth? This isn’t Miss Hazel’s.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, she had her hand on the handle of the door. She paused. “You trust me. Don’t you, Josephine?”

  A sudden overwhelming sense of foreboding swept through Jo. Slowly, she eased down the steps to the sidewalk. When she looked one way and then the other, Elizabeth had disappeared.

  “Elizabeth!”

  She stood in the middle of the street lined with homes of prosperous men. The mansions were impressive, sitting side by side with scalloped gables, latticed dormers, and terra cotta angel faces. Most presented brick façades with bow-front windows and secured with a high scrolled wrought-iron fence.

  Where am I? Jo turned to call out to the coachman, but froze. The man leaped off his perch in front of her. Recognition sent goading spurs of terror cascading through her…blinding all reason.

  Laughing, the man took his hat off. His face was thinner; his hair longer with a disheveled, unkempt beard. His eyes had not changed and they stared straight into hers. Death had no
hold on him. He had walked out of hell for his revenge.

  Good Lord, save me! It was Harry Lee!

  Harry Lee raised his right hand to doff his hat, while his dark eyes took in her troubled state. His face hardened imperceptibly with a sneering smile.

  Pale and shaken, Jo whirled around and stumbled backward. He reached for her; her knees buckled beneath her and she collapsed. Bending down, he pulled her to her feet.

  “It will do you no good, my dear cousin, to fight this. A lot of time and hard work has been spent for this moment to occur.”

  His hand clenched tightly on her forearm. She fought back, wrenching from one side to the other.

  “You just have to struggle. Don’t you?”

  She screamed, but the sound of her voice was muffled by his hand clamping down over it with a cloth. Suddenly, everything went black.

  * * * *

  Exhausted, Cullen was happy when he finally arrived back home. It had been a long day. After he had sent the telegram to tell Josephine he would arrive tomorrow, he had decided to forego the last official dinner. He had had enough of ceremony and war discussions. He had taken the last train back to Philadelphia.

  The meeting with Welles had been productive. Magnolia Bluff had survived. Andrew had set up the sign as a hospital in front of the main house, saying the plantation had a typhoid epidemic. The excuse had worked. Speculation was bound to circulate, but nothing could ever be proved. Now, all that needed to be done was to corner General Robert E. Lee and end this damn war.

  Cullen hurried into the house and was greeted with silence. Taking off his coat, he saw Penniford round the corner.

  “Mister Cullen.” Penniford extended his hand to take his coat and gloves. “It is good to see you home.”

  “Thank you, Penniford. The house seems quiet, too quiet.”

  “Your parents are out for the evening. We weren’t expecting you home.”

  “I took the train today. Is my wife in our room?”

  “I haven’t seen her since this afternoon. I assume so. The children are asleep in the nursery.”

  He headed upstairs to their room. He opened it to a dark stillness. The book he had given her lay on a chair, with a throw blanket lying on the floor. Strange. He walked through to the nursery where Madeline lay sound asleep. He tucked the blanket around her curved little body.

  Outside the room, loud voices echoed in the hall. Cullen made his way to the noise. The door to his son’s room was open. Looking in, he saw the room cluttered with toys littered on the floor, the bed covers thrown off the bed.

  Percival stood in the middle of the room and stomped his foot. “I can’t go to sleep until Momma kisses me. She always kisses me good night.” His voice ranted with an inflexible determination.

  “It is late. I have told you that your momma will kiss you when she returns. She wants you in bed.” Mrs. Finnegan’s exacerbated voice railed.

  “I want Momma!”

  “Percival?” Cullen walked into the room. Immediately on the sight of his father, Percival ran and flung his arms around him.

  “Father, they won’t let me see Momma. I want to see Momma.” Tears flowed down his cheeks.

  “Of course, you can see your mother.” Cullen stared over at the nanny. “Why is my son so upset, Mrs. Finnegan? Where is his mother?”

  Mrs. Finnegan looked at him with tired eyes and then looked at Percival. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I haven’t a clue where Mrs. Smythe has gone.”

  ****

  “Josephine, where are you?”

  Cullen walked the house, pausing at doors to check all the rooms. Holding Percival’s hand, he halted in the foyer when he saw Penniford strode toward him.

  “I’m afraid Mrs. Smythe is not in the house, sir. Mary said the last she saw Mrs. Smythe was with Miss Elizabeth, walking down the servant stairs.”

  “I told ya. I told ya. The bad man took her!” Percival wailed to the point his small body shook.

  “Percival, calm yourself. I will find your mother,” Cullen assured his son, but fear grew within him.

  Mrs. Finnegan stood behind him. “For the life of me, I wish I had asked Miss Elizabeth where she was going, but I didn’t think Mrs. Smythe was with her. The last I saw of Mrs. Smythe, she was reading, having promised the children they could stay up an extra half hour. She never came to put them to bed.”

  “Did you not think that odd?” Cullen pressed. Where…where could Jo have gone?

  “Mr. Cullen,” Mary said in a timid voice.

  Occupied with his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed she had walked up. “Yes, Mary.”

  “I have been racking my brain with where she could have gone. I heard her talking with Miss Elizabeth. She said something about Miss Hazel. Does that help?”

  Cullen felt the first sign of relief. “Penniford, send a note over to Heyward and Miss Hazel and see if Mrs. Smythe is visiting.”

  “I have already taken the liberty of sending messages to Mr. Heyward’s home and also, your father at the dinner party he is attending,” Penniford said.

  He nodded. Josephine’s visits with her former mammy had not gone unnoticed by the servants. In truth, the servants probably knew their lives better than anyone.

  “Father,” Percival said with growing frustration. “I saw ’em from the window. I saw Momma get in with Auntie ’lizabeth. I saw his gun.”

  “Percival, what gun?” Now his son had his full attention. Cullen knelt to his level.

  “The man who drove the carria’. He climbed back on top and pulled back his coat and patted it. The men who took Momma before had guns, Father.”

  “Listen, carefully, Percival. I will find your mother. You go back to your room with Mrs. Finnegan and go to sleep. I will have your momma back in the morning.” Suddenly, he hugged his son, tightly. He pulled back, mussing his son’s disheveled hair. “You can sleep in our room with Madeline. Will that make you feel better?”

  Percival nodded, but eyed his father questionably. “But, Father, why did Auntie ’lizbeth said she was going to be my new momma?”

  A chill shot through Cullen. “When did Aunt Elizabeth tell you that?”

  “Not to me, Father. She talks to herself. She’s funny, ex’pt she’s been talking that everyone will be happy when it’s done.”

  The gnawing fear turned to panic. Lord, Kathleen had gotten to Elizabeth and caused her to betray her family! What was happening? He knew only he was going to find out.

  Cullen stood and turned to Mrs. Finnegan. “Take him into my room and lock all the doors…Madeline’s also between the connecting rooms. Only open it to my parents or myself. Do you understand? Do not leave them!”

  “Yes, sir.” Mrs. Finnegan nodded. Water welled in her eyes, telling of her own worries. “Don’t worry about the children. I won’t let anything happen to them.”

  He swallowed hard. “Penniford, tell Father everything that has happened when he arrives.” He paused to watch Mrs. Finnegan rush up the stairs. “Follow me.”

  In the study, Cullen pulled out a tin box and unlocked it. He checked to make sure it was loaded and handed it to Penniford. “Take the pistol and guard my children’s door. Don’t let anyone in except Father or myself, especially not my sister. Do I make myself clear?”

  Conscious only of the need for haste, Cullen withdrew the other pistol. God, what had happened to Josephine? He didn’t even know where to start. No, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly where to go—straight to Kathleen.

  With his loaded pistol in hand, he headed for the door. Grabbing his coat, he pushed his hat on his head. Briefly, he glanced up the stairs. Suddenly, he heard rapid footsteps pound into the foyer. Turning, he saw Heyward hurrying to catch him.

  “Mr. Cullen, I received a note asking if Miss Jo was visiting. Figured something must be wrong. Ma sent me to check. Seems we were right.” Leaning over, Heyward drew in a deep breath. “Do you want help?”

  “I don’t know what we face.”

  Heywar
d straightened himself up to full height. “Don’t matter.”

  For a brief moment, he stared at the man, grateful for his offer. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Josephine woke to a repugnant odor mingled with musty, stale air. Lying on the floor of the cavernous room, she looked about, but saw little. It was dark and dank. Groggily, she crawled to her knees. Slowly, her eyes focused to make out shapes and forms.

  Rising to her feet, she felt her way around and bumped into a table, a chair, and finally curtains. She jerked back on the material, desperately trying to get any light into the room.

  A moment later, a sliver of light from the streetlamps streamed through. It wasn’t much, but the dim light allowed her to see her prison. Frantically, she pushed against the window, but it wouldn’t budge. She needed something to break the glass.

  Turning around, Josephine surveyed the room. In the dim light, she surmised it must have been a parlor, but the covers over the furniture told that no one had entertained lately. On her left was a fireplace with a mantel; looking straight ahead, French doors led to another room. Then her eyes lit to a sofa and a couple of chairs to her right.

  There had to be something in the room she could use. Large and heavy enough to break the window, yet easy enough for her to lift. She stared at the French doors. Her heart pounded madly. She hadn’t much time before her cousin would return…of that she had no doubt.

  Feeling her way around the room in the faint light, she tripped over something soft and bulky and fell down on top of it. Pushing back off it, Jo rolled over to the floor. The stench overwhelmed her…until she saw what she had fallen upon…and then terror gripped her soul.

  Jo could not tear her eyes off the figure. A woman…dead…laid in a pool of dried blood. She was dressed in an evening gown, but it was ripped and torn. Her throat had been slashed; Jo could make out the cut where she could now see maggots moving within it.