by Judith Pella
“Quite understandable. I was greatly sorrowed to hear of your sister’s death, Miss Adams.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Perhaps you and York would still do me the honor of joining me one evening next week?”
Carolina looked to York, who answered for them both. “I’m certain Carolina and I could make ourselves available.”
“Splendid!” Jackson replied and fell into a fit of coughing that caused Carolina to study him with grave regard. “Don’t concern yourself with this old man,” he told her. Dabbing a handkerchief to his mouth, he offered her a broad smile. “As long as I refrain from dancing, I shouldn’t cause my doctor too much grief.”
“I do pray that your health improves,” Carolina said with a sympathetic smile.
“Knowing that you will share my table next week gives me all the incentive I need to recover my health.”
Several people standing close enough to overhear the conversation exchanged comments of surprise and afterward seemed to look upon Carolina as someone special.
Jackson was led away to greet several important figures, while Carolina stood in complete fascination at York’s side. The White House had been festively decorated in Christmas holly and pine boughs. Candles dressed with red and gold ribbons graced every corner of the impressive room and illuminated it cheerfully. Even the people themselves became ornamental extensions of holiday trimmings.
Carolina heard a group of people laughing from somewhere behind her and turned to find an enthusiastic couple sharing a mistletoe kiss. This only served as a reminder of Hampton’s kiss, and for a moment a shadow was cast upon her revelry. She saw the tender way in which the woman looked into the eyes of the man who’d just kissed her. It must be love she feels, Carolina reasoned. Otherwise, how could she look at him like that?
“Is something wrong?” York asked her.
Carolina immediately sought to mask her feelings. “Why do you ask?”
“Your expression just now suggested some type of distress. I thought maybe you were overly worried about Jackson,” York suggested.
“Of course, I am quite concerned about him.”
“But that’s not exactly what’s troubling you just now, is it?”
She found such tenderness in her brother’s eyes that she couldn’t help but be honest. Placing her gloved hand upon his arm, she sighed. “I’m still trying to better understand love.”
York chuckled. “Is that all? You might well spend an entire lifetime trying to understand such a subject.” He walked her to a more private corner of the room and offered her a seat. “Why don’t you explain to me why this subject is of such vital importance just now?” He sat down beside her and waited patiently for her explanation.
Carolina shook her head. “I never imagined that my head would be filled with such fanciful ideas. I suppose coming of age started a forward progression that I cannot turn my back on. Nevertheless, I’m not entirely certain that I’m ready for it.”
“Who said you had to be ready for anything?”
Carolina watched the people passing by them and considered this for a moment. “York, something happened the other night. I haven’t told anyone about it, and I hesitate to tell you because I don’t want you to become angry about it.”
York raised a brow. “I must say, you more than have my attention now. Pray continue.”
“Hampton Cabot kissed me at the charity ball. We were on the summer porch, and very much alone, and he kissed me.”
York frowned. “I can’t pretend that Cabot’s liberties are acceptable to me. Did you prompt such an action?”
“No, certainly not!” Carolina exclaimed, then reconsidered. “At least, I don’t think I did. See, that’s the problem, or at least a part of it. I didn’t want to go with Hampton to the party, but Papa encouraged it, and because I thought it would please him, I agreed. Hampton was very nice, very polite and such, but . . . well”—she paused trying to consider how she might explain the matter to her brother—“I suppose I was the one who put myself into the position of being alone with him. I saw Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin, and for some reason I just didn’t want to face them, especially Mrs. Baldwin. I know that you probably don’t understand, but I asked Hampton to take me for some air. He escorted me to the summer porch, and once there he began to talk to me about romance and love.”
“And what did Mr. Cabot say?”
“I don’t really even remember, except that he said I’d had my nose in books so long that I didn’t really understand what life and love were all about. Then he took me into his arms and kissed me.” She could feel her face grow hot at this confession.
“Do you want me to speak with him on the matter?”
“No!” Carolina stated adamantly. “That is not why I mentioned it to you at all.”
“Then why?”
York seemed genuinely concerned, and it touched Carolina’s heart that he could care so much for her. Biting at her lower lip, she decided the truth was probably better than anything else. “York, I don’t love Hampton Cabot. I can’t even abide the man most of the time.”
“But?”
“But . . . I enjoyed his kiss. It was my first time, you see,” she lowered her eyes, unable to face her brother.
“And this is what has been bothering you?” There was amusement in his tone.
Carolina sighed again and nodded. “I suppose I’m just very confused about it all. Is it possible to enjoy someone’s kiss and not be in love with them?”
“I believe it is.” She looked up to find him smiling and he continued. “You certainly don’t need to feel obligated to marry the man just because he kissed you. Nor do you need to concern yourself with the fact that you enjoyed it.” He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “I can scarcely believe you’re old enough to even have this conversation with me. You’ve grown up so fast and become a very beautiful woman. And, because of that, I’d like to offer you a bit of brotherly advice.”
“Please,” Carolina said, anxiously hoping York could dispel her confusion.
“Many men will try to woo you with tender words and kisses. To speak to a woman in such a fashion is a long-practiced way of breaking her will. Honorable men will approach you with proper intentions and honest love, and they will desire that you feel the same for them. Other men will merely see that you are young and beautiful and innocent, and their intentions might well be to further their own purposes and advantages. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I think so. But what if I feel love for someone and then find that it isn’t returned?”
“That’s always a possibility and always very difficult to deal with. I’m not even sure I have the answer for you, but I do believe that if it’s meant to be, both people will feel the same toward each other, in time. Just don’t rush it and see what happens.” Then without warning York got to his feet. “Lucy is here. Come. I want you to meet her first thing.”
Carolina glanced across the room to find a young woman of exotic beauty on the arm of a thin, balding man. Lucille Alexander was stunning with her heart-shaped face and long dark lashes. Her ebony eyes seemed to take in everything at once, and Carolina found herself holding her breath as the introductions were made.
“How wonderful to meet you,” Lucy said with a smile of genuine affection. “York has told me so much about you, and I honestly feel as though I already know you.”
Carolina felt immediately at ease. “I’m afraid I’m just now learning about you. York scarcely makes it home these days, and when he does, he rarely has time to share his secrets with me.”
Lucy laughed and whispered, “I’m afraid I may have something to do with the reason he’s so long from home.”
Carolina looked at York, who merely shrugged and looked heavenward. She then returned a smile to Lucy and replied, “I’d much rather he be at such a noble cause than to be burying himself in the argumentative processes of government.”
“Mr. Adams, if I might have a few moments of y
our time,” Henry Alexander interrupted, “there is a matter of importance on which I need your consideration.”
“But, Father, this is a Christmas party,” Lucy protested. “You promised me that you would not work so very hard during the holidays.”
Henry smiled indulgently. “I assure you we will only be a few minutes. I know you and Miss Adams can entertain yourselves during that time.”
Carolina watched on as Lucy interacted with her father and York. She was more beautiful than Carolina could have ever imagined. Her alabaster skin was sharply contrasted by her ebony hair and eyes. She reminded Carolina of a porcelain doll, so dainty and fragile, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and independence.
“I truly am happy for the time to know you better,” Lucy said, bringing Carolina out of her thoughts.
“As am I.”
“York tells me you enjoy reading and studying on new subjects.”
“That is true,” Carolina admitted.
Lucy gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I confess I’m guilty of the same.”
“You?” Carolina asked in surprise.
“You can’t sit at as many diplomatic and political tables as I have and not be fascinated by the details passing in conversation.”
Carolina felt she’d met a kindred spirit in Lucy. “I’ve eavesdropped on more of my father’s private meetings than I’d care to admit to. York has even helped me on one or two occasions. He’s always respected my desire to learn.”
Lucy nodded. “I can imagine he would. But, you see, the difference between York and other men is that York is not threatened by an intelligent woman. He’s confident in himself and is very knowledgeable. And I would even go so far as to say that your brother is quite willing to learn from a woman, should he find her with knowledge of importance to him.”
“York is very special,” Carolina confessed. “When he told me that he’d met you, I must say I was rather jealous. Now, however, meeting you and speaking our hearts, I find that you are quite an acceptable choice.”
Lucy reached out and linked her arm through Carolina’s. “I know we shall be great friends, Miss Adams.”
“Please call me Carolina.”
“And you will call me Lucy.”
“Happily,” Carolina said, feeling as though she’d just been given an exquisite gift.
“Now you must tell me about Oakbridge. York says so very little about it, and even when I do get him to speak on it, he talks in acreages and crop profits.”
Carolina laughed. “I’ve no doubt that is true. York is far happier with his politics. But as for Oakbridge . . .” She paused, looking thoughtful. “Oakbridge is a world unto itself. We’re not far from Falls Church, and really not so very far from Washington City. Oakbridge sits alongside Dominion Creek, and because the creek is particularly broad where our road passes over, Grandfather Adams built a bridge of oak on which to cross.”
“Thus Oakbridge,” Lucy said with a knowing nod.
“Yes.” Carolina continued, drawing from a mental picture of her home. “The house is of the Greek style with six white pillars and three floors of rooms. It makes a beautiful contrast in the spring and summer with its bold whiteness against the green hills and flowering gardens.”
“I can just see it,” Lucy said with genuine delight.
“Of course now,” Carolina added rather sadly, “everything is rather brown and dingy. I can’t profess a love for winter. It’s then that I feel very isolated. Almost as though Oakbridge has slipped off the face of the earth.”
Just then, York returned with refreshments for both of them, and Carolina put her thoughts aside. It was easy to talk to Lucy, and she could see now how expertly Lucy had drawn out all manner of information without once making Carolina uncomfortable.
Seeing her brother whisper into Lucy’s ear, Carolina decided to bow out gracefully and give them time together. Just then Lucy made a surprising request. “I wonder, would it be acceptable for Carolina to spend the holidays here in Washington?”
York and Carolina both exchanged a look of surprise. York stroked his chin a moment. “Given the sorrow of our home, I believe it would do her good. She’s lost too much weight and could stand with some fattening up. I know the food in your home well enough to know it has that effect on folk.” He patted his midsection, but both women could see there wasn’t an ounce of fat to be had on him.
“Would you like to stay on here in the city?” Lucy asked Carolina. “We have several spare rooms, and I would happily put you up in one of them. That would give us both a chance to get to know each other better and to further our new friendship.” Lucy’s eyes twinkled as she added, “Besides, you definitely won’t feel as though you’ve dropped off the face of the earth while in Washington City.”
Carolina was touched by Lucy’s offer and couldn’t imagine anything she wanted more than this. It would be wonderful to break away from the plantation and all its sorrow. Not to mention that Virginia was still snubbing her quite seriously, and Georgia’s tirades were beginning to weary Carolina considerably.
“I’d be very honored, Miss—Lucy,” Carolina said.
“It’s settled then,” Lucy replied, linking her free arm with York’s.
“With you in charge, how could it be otherwise?” York commented, a light of love clearly visible in his expression.
Lucy looked up at him, and Carolina felt a tightening in her chest at the radiant look on Lucy’s face. This must be true love, Carolina thought, and while she was happy for her brother, her own heart seemed to ache with an emptiness she couldn’t ignore.
11
Manipulating Fate
Virginia yanked at the hopelessly knotted thread of her embroidery. She was angry, hurt, and betrayed. Betrayed by the very family who should even now be considering her needs uppermost. After all, she reasoned, she was the one who’d had to give up her wedding to James Baldwin. Of course, her father had suggested she keep the details of their broken engagement a secret. James had given her a letter of dismissal; at least that’s what Virginia called it. The letter spoke of honor and how deserving she was of true love, love that James felt he could never give her. And why not?
James’ answers had been vague at best and otherwise nonexistent. His heart and interests lay elsewhere, he had penned. What malarkey! In order to save face, Virginia had little choice but to announce to the world that she had broken the engagement. She was heralded as the young woman who sacrificed her own happiness to care for her grief-stricken mother. Unfortunately, that attention was short-lived, and now no one even bothered to call upon her and see how she was faring. And it was all because James Baldwin had deserted her. Oh, but how she longed to smear his name and reputation with the blackness that enshrouded her heart. But of course that was impossible without impugning her own reputation as well.
Still, James’ betrayal was nothing compared to her own family’s. The attention she had hoped to receive for her “sacrifice” was swallowed up in Penny’s needs and their mother’s wavering sanity. And to make matters worse, York had taken Carolina to Washington City for a party at the White House, and no one had even bothered to ask her if she’d like to go. Joseph had explained that the invitation was a personal one, not merely inviting any family member York might choose, but that the President had specifically requested Carolina.
Glancing up, Virginia watched as her mother faithfully tucked the covers around Penny and felt her forehead. Penny, now weakened further by a chest cold that wouldn’t seem to pass, said nothing. Margaret, however, chattered on and on, mostly about nonsensical matters.
“When you are well we shall have to see to it that you practice the piano. No young woman should fall behind in her musical skills. I think, too, that Maryland, although she is quite young, should probably be encouraged to begin her piano studies as well.”
Virginia frowned. It was difficult to speak with her mother on anything of real substance. She had so few moments of clarity, and when her
mind did allow her to think sanely, Margaret Adams was deeply depressed and grief stricken over the death of her precious four-year-old.
“Mother?” Virginia called out.
Margaret turned and raised a brow. “You mustn’t raise your voice, Virginia. You’ll wake Mary.”
Virginia grimaced and threw down her handwork. “Mother, we have to talk. There are matters going on of which I feel you should be aware.”
“What things are you talking about?” Margaret came to the end of Penny’s bed and gave Virginia her attention.
For once, Virginia felt that perhaps her mother’s senses had returned. Her dark brown eyes seemed alert and clear, and her face was no longer pinched in worry but seemed openly curious.
“Carolina is courting Hampton Cabot. I fear they are quite serious and, well, that will lead to them wanting to marry.” Virginia tried not to sound as indignant as she felt. It was bad enough that Carolina’s incessant nagging had caused James to renew his interest in the railroad, but now she was actually closing in on a husband— the one thing that seemed to elude Virginia Adams.
“Marriage is a biblical institution,” Margaret said rather piously.
“Yes, but, Mother, you have always insisted on the family tradition of the eldest daughter marrying first. I have not yet married, and therefore we cannot allow Carolina to marry. We should probably even put an end to the serious nature of her courtship with Mr. Cabot.”
Margaret seemed to consider this for a moment. “I don’t suppose Mr. Cabot understands much about the fever.”
“What?” Virginia was thoroughly confused.
“The fever. Yellow-jack,” her mother said thoughtfully. “Mr. Cabot might well be bringing the fever into this house, and I simply cannot have it. Mary is too young and Penny too fragile. We must speak with Mr. Adams about this and see to it that Mr. Cabot is not allowed to bring any animals onto the premises.”
“Animals? Mother, whatever are you talking about? Mr. Cabot doesn’t have the fever, not that it would matter.”
“How dare you talk back to me?” Margaret’s eyes widened in anger. “You are being disrespectful, and I insist that you go to your father at once and confess your sins.” She pointed Virginia in the way of the door, and seeing there was nothing to be gained in continuing the conversation, Virginia left the room.