The Planter's Daughter

by Michelle Shocklee

  “It appears the merrymaking has come to an end.”

  Startled by the male voice so close to her ear, Adella whirled to find Seth Brantley behind her, his face darkened by the shadows of night.

  She gave a nervous laugh. “You are forever sneaking up on me, Mr. Brantley.” Quickly, she slid her feet back into her shoes.

  He chuckled and moved into the lantern light. “I will try to announce myself from now on.”

  Her eyes roamed over him involuntarily. She hadn’t seen him all night—she had to admit, she’d looked—and now took in his neatly trimmed hair and freshly shaven face. Though his clothes were not as new and stylish as some of the men in attendance, Seth looked incredibly handsome in his jacket and string tie.

  Realizing she stared at him, Adella turned to watch the thinning crowd. “It does appear everyone is taking their leave. I am not even certain of the hour, but it must be quite late.” She glanced up and found his eyes on her. Her cheeks filled with heat.

  “You should be proud of yourself.” The tender way he spoke sent her heart racing. “You were the perfect hostess.”

  Surprised, she smiled. “Thank you. That means a great deal to me. I admit I was quite nervous. Mama always made it look so easy.”

  “So did you.”

  She gave a slight laugh. “You must not have been watching very carefully then.”

  “Oh, but I was.”

  Adella swallowed, pleased and yet panicked to learn she had been the object of his observations the entire evening.

  “Back home we don’t have too many parties.” He glanced around the lantern-lit yard. “But we have a corn shucking every year after harvest. Pa will roast a hog or a side of beef. Sometimes neighbors will join in. It’s a lot of fun.”

  She smiled. “I have been going to the corn shucking our people hold every harvest for years. It is one of my favorite times here on the plantation.”

  “The planter’s daughter attends the slaves’ corn shucking? You are certainly full of surprises, Miss Ellis.” He grinned, a teasing note in his voice.

  They stood in awkward silence for several minutes, pretending to watch the activity around them. But in truth, Adella racked her mind for something clever to say. He had been on her mind since Mammy told her about the new rule he’d instituted—even before that if she were honest. Ever since their encounter in the horse barn, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

  The musicians Papa hired struck up a waltz. Several couples not ready to end the evening twirled around the outdoor dance floor, which the servants had constructed that morning.

  “I had hoped I would have the pleasure of dancing with you before the night is over.”

  The deep timbre of his voice sent a chill racing down her spine.

  When her eyes met his, he smiled. “May I have this dance, Miss Ellis?” He offered his arm.

  With a quiver in her belly, Adella nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Brantley.”

  Together, they made their way to the dance floor, his limp barely noticeable. Just as they reached the edge of the wooden planks, Papa and Marshall Brevard approached.

  “Here you are, Adella Rose.” Papa’s gaze briefly took in Seth. “This is the last song of the night. I promised Marshall you would dance it with him. You understand, Brantley.”

  The muscle in Seth’s jaw ticked before he gave a slight bow. “Of course.”

  When his eyes met hers, she thought she saw regret before Marshall whisked her away.

  Long after the last guest departed, the slaves continued the celebration in the quarter. As he did at Christmas and harvest time, Papa had provided a pig for roasting in a pit as well as extra rations for their own merrymaking. It wasn’t every week the future master of the plantation got married, and Papa felt more benevolent than usual. With all the house servants, as well as others who’d been enlisted to help, working during the gala, the slaves held off their own shindig until the white folks were finished with theirs.

  Declaring herself exhausted, Adella bid everyone goodnight and pretended to go to bed. But once the big house was quiet, she slipped from her room to the kitchen wing. Aunt Lu had already gone to the quarter, but she had done as Adella instructed and left out the platters of uneaten cakes and cookies on the counter. There had been far more than they and their guests could ever consume, and Adella intended to take as much as she could carry for the children in the quarter.

  With arms loaded, she hurried as fast as she dared in the dark, carefully picking her way along the path. Muted voices, laughter, and fiddle music rose from the campfires ahead. As she tiptoed past Seth’s cabin, she paused, thinking she heard a sound from the open window. How she wished they’d been able to enjoy a dance together. Just the thought of being held in his strong arms sent a shiver racing up her neck.

  Supposing he was sound asleep—and feeling rather disappointed with that knowledge—Adella continued on.

  “I am announcing myself, Miss Ellis,” he said a few moments later, causing a thrill in her heart. “I am coming up behind you, so promise not to scream.”

  Their private joke made her smile. She turned, though it was difficult to make out his features in the starlight. “If you promise to help me carry these things to the quarter.” Her stomach gave a little leap when he drew close.

  “What is all this?” He reached to take the gunnysack and napkin-wrapped items from her. Their hands brushed in the exchange, and the warmth from his fingers seemed to invade her entire body.

  “Um …” She blinked. What had he asked? Oh, he wanted to know about the items. “It is some of the leftover food from the gala. We will never be able to eat it all, and there will be more next week at the wedding. My mother was always generous with the slaves when we had an abundance. I am determined to carry on the tradition.”

  Seth’s steps slowed, and he turned to her. “I am sure she would be pleased.”

  Aided by the glow of the campfires, she could see his face clearly now. The sincerity shining in his eyes warmed her almost as much as his touch.

  “Missy Ellis!”

  Oliver broke away from the gathering and ran toward them. When he reached them, he skidded to a stop as if remembering who they were and who he was. He ducked his head. “Mistah Brantley, suh.”

  Adella watched, pleased to see an easy smile settle on Seth’s face. “Oliver, you’re up mighty late.

  Oliver peeked up and grinned. “Yassuh, I is. We’s cel’brat’in’.” He eyed the items they held. “You gots somethin’ good to eat in them wrappin’s?”

  Adella and Seth both laughed.

  For the next half hour, they distributed the sweets. Adella couldn’t help but notice how respectful the slaves were to Seth—as well as surprisingly relaxed in his presence. Even the older ones who’d been on the plantation long enough to experience the wrath of numerous overseers were fairly at ease. The few times she’d helped Mr. Haley dole out extra rations, the slaves had kept their eyes downcast and said nary a word except to mumble thank you. The laughter and conversation tonight set a vastly different scene.

  Perhaps it was the celebratory mood in the air. The wedding of the future master brought a sense of newness and expectation, she supposed.

  However, glancing over to where Seth knelt on one knee to speak to Oliver, she wondered if it were perhaps something more.

  Seth observed Adella speaking to Mammy, a slave woman older than Methuselah, he guessed. The two women laughed, then Adella gave Mammy a hug before moving on to the next person. Each of the slaves seemed to want to speak with “Missy Ellis,” despite their shyness in her presence. Even the big, rough men who worked the fields bashfully dipped their heads and grinned at whatever she said. Adella was a patient and attentive listener, and Seth couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as he watched her gracefully fulfill her role as the owner’s daughter. Here was a woman who practiced what she preached.

  It amazed him how much she occupied his thoughts these days. He’d looked forward to the
gala, daydreaming about holding her in his arms for just one dance. Hopefully more. After taking an inordinate amount of time to clean up and dress for the affair, he’d arrived only to find Marshall Brevard following Adella around like a puppy on a leash. For the rest of the evening, he watched Marshall position himself as Adella’s escort, although Seth got the distinct feeling she found his presence more of a bother than anything else. Not once did she flirt with the older man or appear overly friendly the way women sometimes do when interested in a man. That Luther had already consented to Brevard’s request for Adella’s hand in marriage should have kept Seth from seeking out that dance with her, but it hadn’t. Marshall won again, however, when Luther sent Seth packing.

  Soon a man on a fiddle began to play a lively tune. Another strummed a washboard, while someone else tapped on a leather-covered drum. The tune was nothing like Seth had ever heard, but he liked it. Couples, young and old, broke into dance, skirts and bare feet flying. Children joined in, giggling and wiggling.

  Adella came to stand near him, a relaxed smile on her face. “I’m glad we came,” she said, looking up at him with shining eyes.

  “I am too.” He watched the slaves enjoying themselves. “I guess I sometimes forget they like to have fun just as much as anyone.”

  Adella’s smile grew. She turned away, leaving him to wonder what the big grin was about.

  “It’s strange,” she said after a while. “I feel so much happier here with the slaves than I did all evening. Perhaps it’s because I was trying to fill Mama’s role as hostess and didn’t do a very good job.”

  “On the contrary,” Seth said, taking in how soft her skin looked in the fire’s glow. “You were amazing tonight.” She looked up, and he had the strongest urge to kiss her upturned mouth. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Every time I saw you, you were making someone feel welcome. Everyone had a wonderful time due to your hard work. Your mother would be proud of her daughter, Miss Ellis. Of that, I am quite certain.”

  Their eyes held for a long moment. “Thank you, Mr. Brantley,” she said softly, her warm voice washing over him like a sunrise. “Your kind words mean more to me than you know.”

  After several more spirited tunes, the musicians slowed the music to a soulful ballad. The mood instantly changed, and couples swayed gently in the cool night air to the soothing melody.

  Seth swallowed his nerves. It was now or never. With a deep breath, he leaned toward Adella. “I believe you owe me a dance, Miss Ellis.”

  Her wide, beautiful eyes met his. She glanced at the slaves then toward the main house. For a moment, he thought he’d made a terrible mistake. Perhaps the daughter of the plantation owner would rather not dance with a lowly overseer. Or perhaps she thought him incapable of dancing because of his limp.

  Then her smile melted his fears. “I believe you are correct, sir.”

  Taking her hand, he led her a short distance from the others, but still within sight for propriety’s sake. Some of the slaves cast curious glances at them while others, like Mammy and Aunt Lu, simply grinned and nodded their approval.

  With her small hand tucked in his, and his arm carefully around her waist, they stepped into a slow waltz. The eerily hypnotic music filled the air, circling, wrapping, and finally making everything besides the two of them seem to fade away. Even the ever-present pain in his leg disappeared with her nearness.

  “Thank you,” he said barely above a whisper.

  She looked up, her face so close he felt her warm breath. “For what?”

  “Saving a dance for me.”

  Her smile began in her eyes before it reached her lips. “You’re welcome.”

  Tightening his hold on her, Seth hoped the music would last forever.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Floating.

  That seemed the perfect word to describe how Adella felt the next morning as she descended the stairs, dressed in her favorite rose-colored day gown. Floating on a cloud of happiness and contentment. She couldn’t remember the last time she greeted the dawn with such lightness of heart and anticipation for what the day held. The secret smile she’d seen in her dressing mirror remained firmly in place when she entered the dining room, set there by the memories of being held in Seth’s strong arms, dancing into the wee hours of the morning.

  The men in the room stood to greet her.

  “Well, don’t you look lovely and fresh this morning, Adella Rose? Just like a spring flower.”

  Papa smiled from his place at the head of the table. An enormous breakfast buffet lined the sideboard to his right, filling the room with delicious aromas and allowing family and guests to help themselves whenever they chose to rise after the late night. Marshall Brevard and two other men whose names she couldn’t recall—plantation owners from a neighboring county—joined him at the table. Their wives must still have been abed.

  “Good morning, Papa.” She hurried to kiss his cheek. “Gentlemen.”

  “Good morning, Miss Ellis.” Marshall left his place and hastened to her side. “I trust you slept well after such a wonderful night.”

  A giddy giggle nearly escaped her at his choice of words, but she held it in check. “I did indeed, thank you. And I must agree. It truly was a wonderful night.”

  Her answer seemed to bring him great pleasure. “I too enjoyed our time together. I hope we can continue getting to know one another in the coming days.”

  The comment struck her as odd, but before she could sort it out, George noisily entered the room, greeted by the men as though he were a conquering hero. Slaps on the back and congratulations regarding his upcoming nuptials abounded. Being the lone female surrounded by boisterous men held little appeal, so Adella slipped from the room and headed to the kitchen. She hadn’t seen Jeptha at the slaves’ celebration last night and hoped Aunt Lu knew his whereabouts.

  The kitchen bustled with activity when she arrived. Despite catching little sleep, the Langford servants worked along with Aunt Lu, Carolina, and the new serving girl, Celia, a pretty thing about Zina’s age and with the same light-colored skin. Preparations for the lunch menu Adella and Aunt Lu decided upon last week were already underway, with half a dozen chickens lined up on the counter, plucked and ready to cook. Jars of canned vegetables, fruits, and other meats crammed every available surface.

  “Mornin’, Missy,” Aunt Lu called from her place near the stove, where she stirred a saucepan containing a bubbling brew. Steam rose from several other large containers crowding the hot surface. Though the morning air coming from the open door still held the coolness of night, sweat dripped down the sides of Aunt Lu’s face.

  “Good morning.” Adella drew near the stove, hoping to find the coffee pot hidden among the containers. Spying the bright blue enamel tucked in the back, she waved off Aunt Lu’s offer to pour her a cup and instead filled her own mug.

  Locating a spot where she hoped she wouldn’t be in the way, she settled on a stool and watched the activity around her. She had no desire to return to the dining room and listen to the men discuss cotton and slave prices. Nor did she wish to have Marshall Brevard follow her every move, making his strange comments. Honestly, she didn’t know why Papa had invited the man to stay for the wedding, requiring that he remain at Rose Hill the entire week. He wasn’t a close friend of either family.

  “That sho’ was some shindig last night,” Aunt Lu said, peeking into the oven where three loaves of bread were just beginning to brown.

  Adella smiled, taking a sip from the mug of hot, black liquid. “Which one?”

  Aunt Lu chuckled. “Both, I ’spose.”

  “Natalie was pleased, and that is what matters.” Watching the servants scurry around the room and knowing they must have been exhausted, she added, “Thank you, all, for your hard work. I truly appreciate it.”

  Tired smiles and nods answered her, but the work never slowed. Aunt Lu yanked a chicken off the counter, inspected it for any remaining feathers, and plunked it into a pot of boiling water.

 
“I didn’t see Jeptha last night,” Adella said to Aunt Lu. “Do you know why he wasn’t at the party?”

  The room grew still as all eyes turned to her, then to Celia. After a moment, everyone went back to their duties, but a strange tension filled the air.

  “He weren’t feelin’ too good, is all,” Aunt Lu said without meeting her gaze.

  Concern immediately gripped Adella. Jeptha hadn’t been sick a day in his life. “Is he ill? Does Mammy know what is wrong with him?”

  Aunt Lu cast a brief glance across the room to where Celia stood at the washtub, her hands deep in the sudsy water, listening. “He fine, Missy. No need ta worry yo’ pretty se’f.”

  A frown tugged Adella’s brow. Aunt Lu wasn’t telling her something. And if she guessed correctly, it involved Celia. Her gaze wandered to the window as she wondered why Jeptha would miss the festivities. He, like everyone else, enjoyed letting loose and having fun for a change. If he wasn’t sick, then why hadn’t she seen him the past few days? Something was wrong, but how could she find out what with so many guests crowding the house?

  “Mornin’, Mistah Brantley, suh,” Aunt Lu said.

  Adella’s heart tumbled over itself when she turned and saw Seth filling the doorway. Their eyes met, and his smile sent tingles all the way to her toes. “Good morning.”

  Aunt Lu came forward and handed him a mug of coffee. “I knows you need this, after dancin’ nearly ’til the sun come up.” A telling grin filled her face when she looked at Adella. “I guess you like our Negro music.”

  An intense heat rose to Adella’s cheeks, the memory of Seth’s arms around her still vivid. That every slave on the plantation bore witness to their dancing should have concerned her, but surprisingly it didn’t.

  “I guess we do.” Seth’s face crinkled with humor.

  Aunt Lu chuckled and went back to work.

  Seth moved closer, his eyes bright despite a lack of sleep. “How are you this morning, Miss Ellis?”