“You have chosen Alexandra,” Daddy growled. “I will not allow you to make a fool out of the Monroe name. Mr. Grant can offer you nothing compared to what I can offer.”
“Except freedom from your financial burden. He doesn’t need me to bail him out of his financial problems, unlike you.”
“If you and your father desire the power you seek, you will have to live up to your end of our deal. Mr. Grant does not have the connections to the President that I have. Do not forget, Thomas, we both will gain from this union.”
“You do not need to lecture me on the benefits of marriage to Alexandra. Everything has been explained to me, at least a hundred times by my father—I do not need to hear it from you as well.”
“Do you have the ring?”
“Of course, I have it. It was given to me weeks ago.”
“Why don’t you propose this afternoon? Then you can announce the news at the picnic in front of your guests.”
“I will take the idea under advisement,” Thomas growled.
Sweat dripped down my neck and my hand clasped over my mouth to keep my breathing quiet. Daddy and Thomas continued to argue, but I didn’t listen to another word either of them said. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to know what I had already heard, why would I want to know more? I crept away from the doorway, closing my eyes every time a heel would tap the hardwood.
“And where, may I ask, have you been?” John whispered, tip-toeing as he snuck up behind me.
I covered my mouth, hiding a sudden scream, and then punched his arm before dashing up the maid staircase toward my bedroom.
“My whereabouts are none of your business,” I whispered when I reached the top stair.
“Liar,” he mocked and skipped a few steps, passing me, and stepped in front of my path, blocking my escape. “Your dress is stained, you’re covered in dirt, and you have grass in your hair. Were you spending alone time in the meadow with a certain young man before he came to the door to call upon you?”
“John, I don’t need your lip today.” Pushing past him, tears welled in my eyes. This day was becoming lovelier by the second.
“Alexandra?” He followed me down the hallway and into my bedroom, forcing his way through the door that I struggled to slam in his face. “Alexandra, what is the matter?”
“I have to dress for the picnic.”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what is wrong.”
“Thomas is here and waiting for me.”
“He can wait a minute. Now, tell me what is wrong.”
I snatched a dress from the closet then slammed the door in anger and confusion. The numbing thoughts and questions overwhelming me made the room seem to spin—Thomas, Daddy, Emily, the ring, the marriage, and then, William.
Missing William desperately, I needed him to walk through my bedroom door and wrap his arms around me. I needed to see his smile, to feel his touch, and needed his ever reassuring kiss that comforted me whenever the darkness consumed me. A piece of lace ripped on the dress and my patience broke, my nerves collapsed, and I crumbled to the floor, a sad, pathetic heap. Although, I longed for William’s arms, John’s helped calm me for a moment.
“Alexandra, what happened?”
“I’m being used, John, used like a cheap whore for a man’s distraction, sold for bad debts, collateral for financial loans because Daddy’s in financial ruin, and a bargaining chip for Thomas’s political gain.”
“What are you talking about?” John released me, stood, and shook his head.
“Knowing Mama and Daddy’s greed, how did I not suspect a hidden agenda? How could I be such a fool? Why didn’t I see their passion to push Thomas and me together, twisting every opportunity for what it really was? All they’ve ever loved is money. They’ve never loved me, just for me, their own daughter. And, he doesn’t even love me. He loves Emily.” I threw the dress on my bed, and kicked the bed post.
“Emily? Money? Alexandra, please just stop talking,” John ordered. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying. Begin again, please.”
Begin again? Did he not understand that would require me to silence all the questions and mindless rambling going on in my head? As much as organized thoughts were desired, they proved impossible at this juncture. How could anyone expect me to be calm and rational?
Looking at his confused expression answered my question, though, and giving in to him, I recounted Thomas and Daddy’s conversation down to the last word. His eyes widened as he listened and he began to pace in front of my bed.
“I don’t understand, Alexandra. I don’t believe Father would do such a horrible, malicious act toward his own daughter. I know you believe their greed to be capable of such, but I don’t.”
“I heard what I heard, John. And I can’t and won’t deny that a deal between Daddy and Thomas, which includes my hand in marriage, exists. Do you believe I’m lying?”
He grabbed the bridge of his nose with one hand, stressed and irritated with his confusion. “No, Alexandra. I don’t believe you are lying. I simply don’t understand what you’re telling me.”
“I don’t either. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I know what I heard. Do you know what Joseph Ludlow did? I mean, do you know the truth. Not rumors, but the actual truth.”
John hesitated for a few seconds, a sign that knowing his answer wouldn’t bode well for me. “Joseph had planned on acquiring stock in the railroads, desiring to bring tracks and trains into Alabama. Governor Winston didn’t care for the railroad system, though, and vetoed all the bills securing their advancement into the state. A few of the cotton companies banded together to plot against Governor Winston, led by Joseph, but while all the other men wished to attack him through a more legal, political way, by having him impeached, Joseph didn’t like that idea. He wanted to hurt the man who hurt him and so he devised a plan to assassinate him, his wife, and their daughter instead.”
Stabbed by Thomas’s words, spoken moments ago while I hid in the shadows, I couldn’t breathe: wasn’t foolish and betrayed. Family certainly was family, but Thomas spoke as though he agreed with what his uncle had done, defending him as though he was innocent of the unspeakable crime.
My bedroom door opened a crack, startling me, and Maggie peeked around the wood.
“Miss Alexandra?” she asked. She smiled when she saw John, but her happiness faded as she gazed upon his expression. “Um, Thomas’s waitin’ in the foyer for ya.”
“I shall be down in a moment.”
“Maggie, wait for me,” John called after her. She nodded toward him and gently shut the door behind her.
“John, will you attend the picnic with me?” I asked, desperately.
“I can’t today, but I’ll talk to Father about what you heard,” he said.
“No, you can’t ask him. I’d have to admit I overheard them talking.”
He opened the door, faced me, and smiled. “I’ll fix this, Alexandra. I swear to you, I will.”
Though his words were comforting, they meant nothing to me. Daddy would never allow his own son to question him or his business, and John was foolish to consider the thought.
“John,” I called after him. “How am I supposed to look at Thomas this afternoon? How am I supposed to attend a picnic with him, spend time alone in the carriage with him, or to speak to him, knowing what I know?”
“You pretend, Alexandra. You simply pretend.”
Chapter 17
How does one face the demon lurking around them? Certainly not with fear—strong favor the weak. They seek them out for the easy prey they are, consume their souls, invade their minds, and break their spirits. Did that mean they face them in confidence, with brazen words and a commanding presence? Striking at them with equal blows no matter their fear or pain and lashing out in defiance.
I wo
uldn’t be Thomas’s prey, a bargaining chip for money or power, nor would I be Daddy’s. My sorrow with Daddy’s deceit had turned into anger in the moments alone in my bedroom. How dare he do as he had done. His only daughter offered for money like a cheap whore or farm animal. Although, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, Nathanial Monroe was known through Alabama for being a cold-blooded, powerful business dealer. Why should any of Daddy’s actions be shocking to me?
Of course, how powerful was unknown now, given the financial predicament he supposedly faced. Was it a series of bad business choices? Or perhaps Mama’s out of control spending that finally broke the bank?
And, thinking of Mama, was she involved? Did she know such a horrible agreement existed between her husband and the young man she so desperately desired for her son-in-law? Would she care?
Doubtful.
Caring would negate her desire for my betrothal to a member of the Ludlow family. Heaven forbid her perfect world of royalty should fall into pieces like a shattered mirror. No matter the cost, no matter who suffered and paid the price, she seized what she desired. She has her whole life. Why should her only daughter receive happiness at the expense of her benefit?
“Lovely day for a picnic,” Thomas sighed as he climbed into the carriage beside me.
His hand grazed my neck as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder for a moment. I nodded and slid a few inches from him, away from his fingers now toying with the buttons on the back of my dress.
We traveled down the dirt road toward our picnic destination with a cloud of dust in our wake. Humidity stuck to my arms, annoying like the sun’s blinding light, or perhaps, my annoyance was more about my company rather than the hot weather. Thomas glanced at me a few times, but I ignored him. How could I ever speak to him or look into his eyes and not ask myself the same disgusted questions over and over again?
“I regret that we have not spent enough time with one another in the past few weeks. Business has taken most of my attention lately, and I am sorry for my absence. I suppose securing my future should not be frowned upon, though,” he chuckled.
Of course. How dare I begrudge him for his absence and lack of affection?
Certainly, a lady should understand her importance in a man’s eyes, or should I say unimportance according to him. Thomas appalled me, for not only his values and his beliefs, but for the sheer fact he lacked all qualities I desired for in a husband. Why had I been foolish enough to think so highly of him or to stroll down a staircase excited to make his acquaintance? He was unwanted and undesired.
Looking out at the trees, their trunks and branches of leaves brought some comfort, if only for a moment. They reminded me of William, the man who was wanted and desired, the man who was everything Thomas wasn’t. To William I was a precious gift worth fighting for, worth time and devotion, worth the risk, and worth his love.
Thomas’s hand touched my arm. “Alexandra?”
I jerked and looked at him.
“Care to enlighten me as to what has you so obviously distracted?” he asked.
“It’s not important.” I waved off his question with my hand as he had done to me countless times before.
The carriage rolled down an over grown path through the trees. Voices and laughter echoed in the distance, the welcome distraction of other people who hopefully will ease my need to crawl out of my own skin.
“Mary is quite excited to see you. She and Duncan became engaged a few days ago and she is dying to share the news.”
I shrugged my shoulders and looked toward the trees again, hoping with any luck Thomas would take the hint that I held no enjoyment over the news of Duncan and Mary’s engagement and didn’t desire a conversation, either.
“I suppose John will have to find another young lady to court. If another young lady in this town will have him,” he continued. “Unfortunately, even if he carries the Monroe name, his deportment and arrogance leave little to be desired by the men with daughters in this town.”
“Hopefully, the lady who catches John’s attention next time won’t become blinded by the manipulation and greed of another young man,” I snapped, not meeting Thomas’s gaze. Why did he mention John? What could he possibly gain in attacking my brother? The utter contempt in his tone boiled my blood.
“Don’t ever disrespect Duncan in my presence again.”
“And don’t disrespect John in mine.”
Thomas jerked the reins, halting the carriage alongside a few others sitting empty near a pristine lake that looked like a sheet of glass, reflecting the images of the clouds and trees above. Before he could open his mouth to speak, my shoes disappeared under a layer of beautiful meadow grass. I wasn’t about to bestow him with the satisfaction of reprimanding me, not now, not ever.
“Perfect day for a picnic, is it not?” Mary yelled, strolling toward me. Her raven curls bounced in the sunlight under her yellow lace hat.
“Yes it quite certainly is, Mary,” Thomas replied, his boisterous tone and smile obviously masking his annoyance.
A perfect place, on a perfect day, and yet I was with less than perfect company.
Mary reached for my hand, her fingers entwining with mine as she leaned in to whisper in my ear. “I have news to tell you,” she gushed and held out her left hand. “Duncan and I are getting married.”
“Congratulations, Mary.”
She giggled like a little girl and waved her hand in the air, watching the gold band glimmer in the sun for a moment. “Come, you must hear all the details.”
To my relief, she led me along a worn path toward the lake, leaving Thomas behind to fetch a few baskets from the carriage. Any second stolen from his company was a welcomed blessing.
Samuel and another young man I didn’t know were playing what appeared to be a very intense game of badminton, while Jane Hamilton and another young lady sat on a blanket near the bank of the lake chatting and sipping lemonade. Glancing in our direction, the young woman leaned toward Jane, obviously conversing about the new arrivals.
“I thought more people were attending this afternoon,” I said, meeting, but ignoring the woman’s grimace.
“Duncan said Thomas wanted to keep the gathering smaller, just a few couples so conversations don’t become repetitive and dull. Jane and Samuel are here, together of course, and Grace and Michael.”
Certainly, dull and repetitive would be catastrophic. One might simply perish at the thought. Wasn’t any conversation with Thomas dull, though?
“And who are Grace and Michael?” I asked.
She looked at me with utter confusion in her eyes and whispered as we walked toward the lake. “You don’t know Michael and Grace Hudson?” she asked, pointing to the young man playing against Samuel and continuing after I shook my head. “Grace’s father owns the café we ate . . . well, the café in town, along with a few buildings he leases to businesses. I believe Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien lease their store from him as well. Michael’s family lives in Texas, his parents are wealthy, of course, and while he desired to reside in Texas, Grace persuaded him to remain in Alabama to assist her father with his business.”
Watching the couple, they looked more like brother and sister than husband and wife to me. Both of them tall and lean and wearing the same tiny spectacles on their oval, long faces. Despite a horseshoe ring of hair around Michael’s head, the sun reflected off his bald pate as he played his game against Samuel. Grace watched him from her perch on the blanket, fanning herself and chatting with Jane. Her tightly wound bun on top of her head didn’t move an inch.
“Grace and Michael have got to be the two most boring people in town,” Mary continued. “I simply cannot be around them for very long before I feel as though I might fall asleep standing up. Duncan and Thomas insist they are invited to every social event they host. Why, I don’t know.” She paused for a mom
ent and tapped her finger against her upper lip. “You know, everyone believed Grace and Thomas would marry, actually. I guess she loved him once, but he never felt the same, or so I was told, and when word spread your introductions were going to be made to him, she accepted Michael’s proposal. I overheard Mother saying she is in delicate condition, quite the scandal, due to the timeline of their courtship, engagement, and wedding.”
“What do you mean by ‘delicate condition’?” I asked.
“They are expecting a child, Alexandra,” she laughed.
“And?”
“You are not shocked?”
“Why should I be shocked?”
“They have not been married long enough for her to have conceived on their wedding night, or after. She conceived the child before they married.”
“Perhaps they simply couldn’t control the love they hold for one another or they didn’t wish to control it,” I laughed.
“They should have controlled themselves,” she said, shaking her head in disgust.
“I don’t believe their relations are our business,” I said, annoyed with her imprudence.
“Moral propriety should concern everyone, Alexandra. That doomed child will have the life of a bastard.”
“They’re married. I doubt the child will be deemed a bastard.”
“Then why is she trying to hide it? You simply just do not understand, Alexandra,” she said, waving her hand in my face.
As shocking as her rude dismissal was, she was correct. I didn’t understand, or at least, I didn’t understand why everyone believed the life of another was his or her concern. Perhaps if people would stop sticking their unusually, large, egotistical noses in another’s business and minded their own, the ones who felt they had to hide could come out from behind their masks. Perhaps then, people wouldn’t have to fight so hard to protect their secrets.
The Woman on the Painted Horse Page 16