by Judith Pella
“Pray and seek God’s voice.” Lucy put her arm around Carolina’s shoulder and hugged her. “He will show you what is best. Just as He did for me. I thank God every day for allowing my marriage to make us sisters. You are so like me that I see myself in you. I know we will be good friends long after the trials and tribulations of these days pass away. Just trust God to guide you, Carolina. He is able, and you must believe in that.”
Carolina left Lucy’s room to consider all she had said. For once a small peace took hold of her thoughts, and Carolina believed that the answers were closer at hand than ever before. The restless need to leave home could well be a good thing. Perhaps she could travel— maybe even visit her aunt and brother Maine in England.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Carolina could hear her father in what sounded very much like an argument. It seemed to be coming from the entry hall, and making her way down the stairs, Carolina wondered what in the world had caused such a stir.
She reached the entryway and gasped in surprise at the scene. Her father was red-faced and quite agitated, while a humble-looking Hampton and Virginia endured his tirade.
Locking gazes first with her sister, Carolina found a smug sort of satisfaction in the returned stare. She then lifted her face to meet Hampton’s eyes. His expression was startled for a moment, then fixed with a determined look of accomplishment.
Noting this exchange, Joseph turned to find Carolina. Her presence seemed to calm him instantly, and without giving thought to the fact that he was choosing one child over another, Joseph went to her and slipped his arm around her supportively.
“As you can see for yourself . . .” Joseph began, then let the words trail into silence.
“Yes,” Carolina said, lifting her chin as a sign of strength and acceptance. “I can see for myself the newlyweds have returned.”
31
Reaching Limits
Carolina went over the list of figures and information sent her by Leland Baldwin. The Potomac and Great Falls Railroad was suffering no less than the rest of America. Depression had caused the failure of many newer rail lines and businesses, and from the sound of Leland’s discouraging letter, the P&GF was desperately close to the same fate.
“I just don’t understand,” she murmured. Her father had assured her that the investments were solid and that even in the wake of the panic, they would have enough to begin clearing land.
Leland’s letter said otherwise.
“And while I know you are as anxious as I am to put tracks down and see the realization of this line, the financial distress of this country makes such a thing quite impossible,” she read.
“The cost of laborers will exceed what little remains of the initial investments, and this allows no consideration whatsoever for the purchase of supplies and equipment.”
Carolina shook her head. “It just doesn’t make sense.” She calculated the losses Leland outlined and found discrepancies in the figures. Perhaps some detail had been inadvertently omitted. She studied the columns, rechecked the investment losses and equipment costs, and still found that the totals were off.
Puzzled at this outcome, Carolina pushed the paper away and tried to reason through the situation. Obviously a good portion of the investments could have been lost in the panic. People were scared, and it was natural for them to pull out of risky deals. But by her father’s calculations and Leland’s admission, most of the investment money for the P&GF came from Adams money. Carolina knew her father hadn’t removed a cent of his support, nor had his investment been kept in the bank. So where had all the money gone?
She longed to go to her father and talk over the matter, but these days he was seldom open to such discussions. Her mother’s insanity had taken a fierce toll on the family, but especially on Joseph. When he wasn’t at Margaret’s side, he was so lost in brooding and dismal thoughts that Carolina felt it would be insensitive to present her worries about the railroad to him.
“I could have bet good money on finding you here,” Hampton Cabot said from the doorway of the library.
Carolina quickly stuffed the railroad report into a desk drawer and locked it before getting to her feet.
“Aren’t you even going to bid me good morning?” he asked in a tone that suggested amusement.
Carolina looked at him for a moment, drew a deep breath, then spoke. “Good morning, Mr. Cabot.”
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He sauntered across the room and took residence in the chair opposite her father’s desk. “I do believe you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Believe what you like, it is of no interest to me, sir.” She swept past the desk and headed for the door.
“So we are to be enemies?” he called out.
Carolina stopped and turned. “Enemies? Why, no. I wouldn’t give you that much consideration. You simply are unimportant to me, Mr. Cabot.”
“And well I know it. You act the part of the wounded maiden, yet I know full well you intended to reject my proposal of marriage. Are you merely put out that I rejected you first?”
“I have no idea what you are speaking of, but I am in no way distressed that you, as you say, rejected me. As you will recall, I told you on more than one occasion that I did not love you or care for the idea of marriage to you.”
“Then why the avoidance? Why do you treat your sister with such scorn, if not for want of her position in my life?”
Carolina gave a haughty laugh. “I have seldom ever envied Virginia anything.” She paused when an image of James came to mind. “Believe me, I do not envy her now, nor do I treat her with scorn as you might suggest. I have nothing but love and concern for my sister.” She turned to leave but stopped abruptly at the door. “And perhaps pity.”
“I assure you, there’s no need of that, sister dear,” Virginia said, pushing past her to join Hampton in the library.
Carolina shrugged, trying not to appear overly unnerved by Virginia’s contemptuous stare. “Given time, you may feel otherwise.”
She forced herself to leave the library in an unhurried fashion. Deep inside, all she really wanted to do was run as far away as possible from both of them, and yet she wasn’t completely certain as to why she felt that way. She didn’t love Hampton, and she didn’t envy Virginia’s place in his life. Still, there was something about the two of them living at Oakbridge that rubbed like a thorn in her side. With a sigh of exasperation, Carolina went in search of Lucy and the solace she knew could be found in her company.
“May I come in?” she asked, peering into the nursery’s open door.
“Please,” Lucy replied. “Amy is quite happily sleeping, and I’ve just picked up my sewing.”
Carolina took the chair beside Lucy’s rocker and stared dismally into the fireplace flames. “I want to leave Oakbridge,” she announced without warning.
“Leave?”
Carolina turned to meet Lucy’s dark eyes. “Yes. I can’t abide staying under the same roof with Virginia and Hampton.”
“I didn’t think you minded that they married.”
“I didn’t think I did, either.” Carolina folded her arms against her body. “In fact, I know that it isn’t their marriage that bothers me. It’s the feeling of living with such hostility and . . . well . . . evil. I feel as though evil has pervaded this house.”
Lucy nodded. “I told you once before that there was something quite disturbing about Mr. Cabot. I still can’t say what that something might be, but I agree with you.”
“Granny would have said that evil spirits have invaded Oakbridge.”
“Granny?”
“She was an old slave whom I dearly loved and used to confide in. She’s dead now—in fact, probably turning over in her grave at the way the family has fallen apart.”
Lucy leaned closer. “You mustn’t fret so, Carolina. Things will work themselves out. At least your mother seems comforted by Virginia’s presence, and Hampton is offering your father a great deal of help. Maybe we need only keep an eye on t
hings and see how they come about.”
“But I don’t want to keep my eye on things.” Carolina got to her feet and began to pace. “I don’t want to remain here. I’m miserable and tormented, and I want to go as far away as possible.” She stopped, arms akimbo. “Yet I know I mustn’t leave you and Father.”
“Don’t be held here by my presence,” Lucy admonished. “York is already making plans for my return to Washington. He’s quite miserable being so far removed. It isn’t convenient for him to come home as often as he’d like, so I’ve no doubt we’ll be moving soon.”
“Then I suppose Father is my only concern.”
“Father Adams wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your peace of mind on his account. But tell me this, where would you go?”
Carolina shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I have a suggestion, although it might seem completely out of order.”
“Tell me.”
Lucy put down her sewing. “I have a friend . . . well, actually, he was married to a dear friend of mine. He’s now a widower and father to a small daughter. He lives in Baltimore, and I have heard through mutual friends that he has immediate need for a nanny.”
“A nanny?”
“I know that a woman of your standing and means need not consider such a position, however . . .”
“Social standing isn’t of concern to me,” Carolina interjected. “How old is the child?”
Lucy smiled. “Victoria is barely nine months old. She’s been cared for by a string of maids and nurses, but no one has offered the child any permanency or stability.”
“Why is that?”
“Her father is a difficult man to work for,” Lucy said flatly. “Blake St. John is a very troubled man, but he is a good and honest man as well.” “Blake St. John,” Carolina tried the name. “And he lives in Baltimore?”
“Yes. He lives there quite well, in fact.”
“How did your friend—his wife—die?” Carolina asked, suddenly wanting to know everything.
Lucy grew very solemn. “No one knows for sure. Blake would never say much about the matter. All I know is that Suzanna died only days after Victoria’s birth.”
“How tragic.”
“Yes, it was.” Lucy looked to where Amy slept contentedly. “I cannot bear to imagine the anguish of being parted from a child.”
“It’s hard to lose someone you love,” Carolina murmured, her mind dwelling on the death of her own sisters. “Were there other children in the home?”
“They had a son,” Lucy replied and shook her head. “But he drowned. His death nearly caused Suzanna to lose the baby, but she took to her bed and safely gave birth to Victoria eight months later.”
Carolina considered the matter for several moments. To move from Oakbridge was one thing, but to take on the responsibility for an infant was entirely different. How long could she offer her services? And would her father ever approve of such an idea?
“It is something to think about,” Carolina finally said. “Do you think your friend would be open to the idea of my employment?”
“I can’t think of any reason why he would not. Blake is a fair man, and while I can’t say that we are very close, he would no doubt consider my reference to be valid.”
Carolina nodded. “It would get me away from here, without removing me too far. The railroad would make it easy to return if there should be any real trouble or need.” She pondered these things for a few moments before nodding. “I’ll give it some prayerful consideration.”
32
Amy’s Disappearance
“I can’t find my baby!”
Carolina, used to hearing the cries of her mother’s anguished mind, paid little attention until she realized it was Lucy and not Margaret who now made the declaration.
Bursting into the second-floor sitting room, Lucy’s pale face gave evidence to her despair. “Amy is gone!”
Joseph and Carolina looked up immediately, but Virginia went on with her embroidery while Hampton read a periodical.
“Gone?” Carolina came to Lucy’s side.
“Yes! I awoke from my nap and went to feed her, and she wasn’t there. Her cradle is empty.”
“Did you ask Miriam?” questioned Joseph. “Perhaps the child woke up early, and Miriam thought to let you rest.”
Carolina knew the slave woman would never remove the infant without permission but said nothing to counter her father’s suggestion.
“I asked everyone. No one has seen her.”
“We will help you look,” Carolina said, taking Lucy in hand. “She must be nearby.”
Joseph turned to Virginia and Hampton and, without questioning their willingness, issued them orders. “Hampton, you go to the slave quarters. Virginia, take the first floor.”
Carolina saw Virginia open her mouth as if to protest, then shut it rather hastily at the look of insistence on their father’s face.
“Come along, Lucy,” he said, taking hold of her arm. “We will search out this floor while Carolina takes the third floor and the attic.” He looked at Carolina as if seeking her approval, and she quickly nodded.
Darting down the hall in an unladylike fashion, Carolina couldn’t imagine what had become of Amy. She had just reached the stairs when a miserable thought occurred to her. What if her mother had taken her?
Seeing her father and Lucy head down the opposite wing, Carolina decided to check it out for herself. She made her way to her mother’s room and knocked very lightly before pushing back the door.
“Mother?” The room was empty.
Panic flooded her heart and soul. Margaret was not capable of caring for herself, much less an infant. Carolina tried to imagine where her mother might have gone. The nursery was the logical place, but that was just across the hall, and the open door there revealed its emptiness.
Hiking her skirt, Carolina bounded upstairs and made her way down the third-floor hall. There were several rooms here, used primarily for the house servants, while a huge portion of the floor was devoted to the ballroom.
Carolina made her way through each room, softly calling to her mother. There was no response. She strained her ears to hear even the tiniest cry or spoken word, but there was nothing.
A quick appraisal of the dark and empty ballroom revealed only chilled silence. The room had been shut up since Carolina’s coming-out party almost two years ago. It wasn’t hard to remember the musty room filled with dazzling guests and musicians. For a moment, Carolina could nearly hear the music and see the dancers, and then the images disappeared, replaced by the sound of a baby crying.
It was coming from the attic.
Torn between rushing ahead on her own and returning for her father, Carolina ran to the top of the stairs and called down.
“Papa! Papa, come quickly!”
“Carolina?” His voice sounded muffled and unsure.
“Yes, come to the attic.”
She hurried away without waiting for his reply and made her way up the narrow attic stairs.
“Mother?” she called softly. “Mother, are you here?”
She could hear the baby’s gurgling cries, but nothing else. Reaching the top step, Carolina glanced around the darkened room. The far window had been opened to allow the sunlight to filter in, and because of the winter wind being allowed in as well, the room was now freezing.
Picking her way through the shadowy room, Carolina called again. “Mother?”
“I’m rocking Maryland,” came the reply.
Carolina swallowed hard and eased around a dressmaker’s dummy to where she finally saw her mother seated on the floor beside the cradle that had once belonged to Maryland.
“She’s fretful and I fear a little colicky,” Margaret said. Her mother’s nightgown billowed out around her, while her shawl had fallen away. Carolina picked this up and wrapped it around her mother’s shoulders while Margaret continued trying to soothe Amy.
“You mustn’t wear yourself out, Mother.”
�
�Carolina!” her father called.
“We’re up here, Father. I’m with Mother and . . . Maryland.”
Margaret smiled up at her. “She’s been up all night.”
“Why don’t you let me rock her while you get some rest?” Carolina said, kneeling beside her mother. “Papa can help you to bed, and I will care for Mary while you sleep.”
Margaret stifled a yawn and nodded. “That would be very generous of you.”
Joseph appeared at the door and stared in disbelief at the scene before him. Carolina, sensing her father’s despair, quickly picked up the conversation.
“Father, Mother is very tired, and I’ve agreed to watch Mary while she rests. Would you help her to bed?”
Joseph instantly became aware of the ruse. “Of course,” he said, reaching out to gently help his wife to her feet. “You have been working too hard again, Mrs. Adams. That is why we have servants, you know. You mustn’t take everything on by yourself.”
Margaret nodded, her mind peacefully in another world. As Joseph led her away, Carolina picked up Amy and held her close against the chill of the room. Following behind, she wondered if Lucy would ever forgive Margaret for this episode. She remembered the look of complete horror in Lucy’s eyes and knew she would never again rest easy under the same roof with Margaret Adams.
She reached the third floor and found Lucy waiting anxiously for her child. Joseph was already leading Margaret down the back stairs, all the while talking softly to her about inconsequential matters.
“My baby!” Lucy sobbed, taking Amy in her arms. “She’s freezing. Oh, Carolina, what if she grows ill?” She cradled the child to her breast and cried.
“Come, Lucy. Let’s get her downstairs and warm her before the fire.”
“How could she do this to me?” Lucy asked, seeking Carolina’s face for an answer. “How could your mother do this?”
“Don’t hold it against her, Lucy. Remember our earlier conversation about your friend. Losing a child can never be easy. Your own heartbreak just now is proof of how it strains the senses. I know Mother never meant to harm Amy. She truly thought Amy was Maryland.”