She was not at all sure she wanted to marry Richard, but she hated disappointing her father, who was eagerly in favor of the match. Right now, the way people here were treating her, and the way Lee Jeffreys had deliberately tried to upset her this evening at the supper table, Richard seemed like the most wonderful man who ever walked. He was twenty-five years her senior, more like a father than a suitor and her future husband; but at least he respected her, understood her way of life. After all, Richard was the son of Alfred Potter, whose plantation was nearly as big as Brennan Manor. After their marriage, the two plantations would be melded into one huge enterprise that would dwarf all other plantations in Louisiana, perhaps the whole South. She would be the mistress of it all. Mr. Lee Jeffreys simply did not understand her father’s importance and political standing, nor did he have any conception of life on a plantation, or why the Negroes were necessary to the survival of their way of life.
It was obvious Lee did not like her at all, and now she would have to put up with his arrogant attitude for a whole month. If not for Anna Jeffreys’s uncompromising kindness, she would have asked to be sent right back to Louisiana. She missed Brennan Manor so much that she felt sick. At night, when she was alone like this, tears of loneliness came easily. The only reason she refused to give in and ask to be sent home was that her father thought the trip, and studying under Mrs. Jeffreys, would serve as a kind of finishing school for her. Through some of the opera music Anna Jeffreys was teaching her, she was even learning some Italian, French, and Spanish. Friends and family back home would be very impressed, especially Aunt Janine and Uncle John McAllister in Baton Rouge. Aunt Janine was her mother’s sister, and she was always fussing that Audra did not have a well-rounded education, that she lacked refinement because she had grown up without a mother.
Aunt Janine’s daughter, her cousin Eleanor, had been sent to Europe last summer. Audra didn’t doubt that the reason her aunt was always flaunting her daughter as a well-traveled, worldly debutante was because she was trying to make up for the fact that Eleanor was so unattractive. Eleanor, who was four years older than Audra, had a heavy body with no curves, and a round face that was usually peppered with blemishes. Her dull brown hair was straight and difficult to manage, and even though Aunt Janine dressed her in the finest, most expensive European designs, the clothing did little to help her appearance.
She was sure her aunt was upset that Eleanor was twenty-one years old and still had no prospects of a husband. She did have plenty of suitors, but none of them offered marriage. Audra suspected that was not just because of Eleanor’s looks, but because the men who courted her did not respect her. Eleanor had whispered shocking stories to her about young men and the things she let them do to her that Audra knew would make Aunt Janine faint with shame.
Audra did not understand much about secret things men and women did behind closed doors, and she didn’t care to know. No man, not even Richard Potter, was going to humiliate her that way, or court her just because she behaved like a harlot, whatever it was that harlots did. She only knew it was a label that carried shame with it. She had heard two young men at a party once talking about Eleanor. They had called her a slut and a harlot in the most disrespectful, insulting tone she had ever heard. She had never told her cousin about it.
Right now she actually missed Eleanor, missed everything about home. Brennan Manor might as well be a hundred thousand miles away as a thousand, but for her father’s sake, she vowed to be strong and proud and stay the full summer. Ever since she could remember, she had been doing what she could to please Joseph Brennan, hoping she could make up for his disappointment in Joey. She felt a need to protect and defend her brother. Why couldn’t their father see what a loving son he had? The man expected so much of Joey. That was another reason she felt she must marry Richard. Joey would never be capable of running the plantation himself. She had to marry someone who could take over when their father was gone, someone who would let Joey live there forever but who understood he would never be able to take full responsibility as master of Brennan Manor. Richard was the perfect answer.
She loved Joey so, had always felt responsible to care for him since their mother died. That was when he had begun stuttering. The problem had grown worse over the years instead of better, and she was sure it was because their father had made such a fuss about it and had made Joey more self-conscious about his speech.
Poor Joey had been embarrassed earlier when Lee introduced himself, and that made her even angrier with Lee. He had arrogantly ignored both of them during supper, had even talked to his mother about the next elections, accenting the fact that when it came time to vote for a new President, he would want someone who would support the total abolition of slavery. I think Abraham Lincoln is our man, he had said, glancing at Audra as though just waiting for her to argue his remark.
She had deliberately held her tongue, not wanting to express opposing views at the dinner table. According to her father, Abraham Lincoln would be the worst thing that could happen to the South. If that man became President, a lot of states would secede, but she was not about to go into all that with Lee Jeffreys. These northerners were so ready to preach to the South about what they believed was right and wrong, but, then, politics was a man’s game. She felt uneasy getting into a discussion about any of it.
She closed her eyes and pictured Brennan Manor, the beautifully manicured grounds, the smell of azaleas and dogwood, the cypress and oak trees. The plantation was like a mother to her and Joey. So often she tried to remember her real mother, but there were few memories for a child of seven who took it for granted that mother would always be there. All she could remember now was a terribly thin, pale woman who lay in a bed groaning in death. Her face had no form. There was only the lovely painting of her mother that hung over a fireplace to help her remember the woman.
She turned away from the railing and sat down in a wrought-iron chair to rest her head in her hands. She was so homesick and so upset with Lee Jeffreys that she knew she would not be able to sleep tonight. She tried to fight the unwanted tears, but now they came again. She had nearly gotten over this intense desire to go home, until today. She let herself have a good cry, feeling enveloped in loneliness. It was only when she stopped to retrieve a handkerchief from the pocket of her night robe that she realized someone was standing near her.
“You all right, Miss Brennan?”
Audra jumped at the voice, looking up to see Lee Jeffreys watching her. She felt angry and humiliated that he, of all people, had caught her bawling like a baby. She quickly wiped at her eyes. “Do you really care? I should think you would enjoy seeing me cry. It is certainly obvious you don’t much like me.” She drew her robe closer around her neck, realizing then that he had not only caught her crying but had caught her sitting out here alone in her night clothes. It was highly improper. “Do you always sneak up on people this way?” She started to rise, but he caught her arm.
“No. I didn’t know you’d be out here, but since you are, please stay. I’d like to talk.”
There was something different in his eyes tonight, and she was amazed that she actually saw an apology there. His touch on her arm brought a rush of warmth to her blood, and it surprised her so that she sat back down without arguing. She thought of how good and kind this man’s mother was. Maybe some of those good qualities ran in her son’s blood after all, and she finally admitted to herself that deep inside she wanted Lee Jeffreys to like her. “Fine, Mr. Jeffreys. I think we should talk.”
He knelt in front of her. “You can start by calling me Lee. May I call you Audra?”
Why did she suddenly have so much trouble turning her eyes away from his? “I suppose that would be all right.”
The night breeze stiffened some, and it ruffled his dark hair. The grip on her arm had been firm, a big, strong hand, yet it had been gentle. She realized he looked even handsomer in the moonlight, and it struck her that she had been so concerned with her own problems and with the way he had t
reated her at first, that she had not really thought about how dashing he appeared when she first saw him come into the parlor. She remembered how strangely moved she had been at the way he had looked in that fine gray silk suit, smiling that brilliant smile. She had never seen a man with such blue eyes set in such a handsome face, framed with such nicely layered dark hair.
Now he wore simple cotton pants and a plain shirt that was partially unbuttoned, revealing a good deal of his bare chest in the shaft of light that came through the open doors of her room. There was dark hair on that chest, and she quickly looked away. What on earth was she feeling? A moment ago she hated this man, yet it struck her only now that she had actually been attracted to him. Was it because of the challenge he posed? Maybe it was because he was a lot like her father in some ways. He was not afraid to express his beliefs. He was a man who took charge, just like her father, and to her chagrin, she realized he had been right to chastise her earlier today. She had literally given him orders in his own house. After all, she was a guest. She must show these people how gracious and mannerly a southern lady could be, but she would not swallow her pride.
“I was walking around the veranda,” he was saying. “Came to this side because I like to look at the ocean. I heard you crying, and I can’t help feeling I’m probably the reason.” He rose and pulled a chair over close to her and sat down. “I want to apologize. I was rude to you at dinner tonight, and I damn well know it. I don’t generally judge people without even getting to know them, and your being so young and away from home and all—our guest here—I’ve been way out of line, and I’m sorry.”
Audra sat a little straighter, looking out at the ocean, suddenly unable to meet his eyes for fear she would get the odd feeling again that made her shiver. “I accept your apology, sir, and I apologize in return. I should not have spoken to you the way I did. However, I know that you don’t like the way we live in the South, but it is our way of life, just as you have your own way.” She heard him sigh deeply.
“Audra, you must know deep in your soul that slavery is wrong.”
She wiped at her eyes once more. “Of course it’s wrong.”
“What?” Lee frowned in surprise. “I don’t understand—”
She glanced at him for just a moment. “Contrary to what you might think, Mr. Jeffreys, most of us in the South, especially the women, wish the whole practice had never been started.” She looked away again. “But, you see, it is like…let me think…like a large stone rolling down a hill. Once it starts tumbling, it cannot be stopped. We have lived this way for so long that now our whole economy would come crashing down around us if we could not use slaves to work our plantations. Men like my father would be ruined.” She looked at him again. “I am not ignorant just because I am a woman and young,” she told him. “I have heard my father talk many times with his fellow businessmen. I understand the politics of it better than you think. The North knows that the abolition of slavery would ruin us, but they don’t care. Each state should have the right to decide if it will continue allowing slavery, and neither the Federal government nor the President has the right to step in and cause our ruination.”
Lee could not help smiling a little at the quick pride she showed. God, she was pretty, and that soft, southern drawl of hers somehow made her more enticing. He loved listening to her talk. “It can’t go on forever, Audra. People like your father should begin preparing for that.”
She wanted to look away from him again, but those blue eyes held her own. She caught the gentle warning behind his statement, felt a vague fear she could not quite name. “Each state will do what it must do, Mr. Jeffreys. People like you have to give us much more time. Our investment in slaves is very heavy. To set them all free and lose all that investment and have to pay our help on top of it would destroy us. Besides, it would be dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
Audra rose, walking closer to the railing again. “Perhaps you do not realize that there are nearly as many Negroes in the South as there are whites. If they were freed, where would they all go? Where would they live? There would surely be an insurrection, Mr. Jeffreys. They would murder us, take over our homes and farms. There have been uprisings in the past, my father tells me. You probably think it is cruel of me to be so stern with Toosie, but it is necessary, you see, to keep them in line. They can quickly become quite insolent. If one is not careful, it will be the slaves who run the household instead of the master. They must be constantly disciplined.”
She heard his chair scraping the wooden floor as he rose, felt him move closer to her. There came that strange shiver again. She felt his presence, his tall frame standing close. Such a well-built man he was. Why was she noticing that? She had not much cared about any man’s build before, had certainly never given Richard such thoughts. She kept watching the moonlight on the water, almost afraid to look at Lee.
“To the point of cruelty?” he asked.
Audra closed her eyes, thinking of March Fredericks, overseer of the cotton pickers. She hated March. “Sometimes.”
“No human being can be owned, Audra, or whipped into submission like a dog. It’s un-Christian.”
She blinked back new tears. “Our slaves are well treated, Mr. Jeffreys. I know of only a couple of instances when our overseer had to use the whip. Actually, my father stopped him. He is good to his Negroes, and most of them need little reprimanding. Some are like friends to us.” She quickly wiped at a tear that slipped down her cheek. “Yes, Mr. Jeffreys, I have read Uncle Tom’s Cabin. I know what you are thinking but Miss Stowe gave a very distorted view of what slavery is like. The greater majority of us do not behave that way. We are simply caught up in a system that cannot change if we are to continue our present way of life.” She finally turned and looked up at him. “Many of us wish it could easily be changed. The worst part is all the mulattoes, like Toosie, running about—the product of the abhorrent practice of white men…lying with Negro women. My father is staunchly against it.”
She felt her face warming at the remark. She knew that “lying” with someone was somehow sinful, but she wasn’t quite sure of all that happened when one did. She’d had no mother to teach her about such things, and her women friends just tittered and talked behind their fans about it. She wasn’t sure if the things Eleanor told her were true, and besides, her cousin had never gone into full detail. Miss Geresy, her tutor and the woman responsible for teaching her manners and grace, as well as the duties required of the mistress of a plantation, never talked about personal, intimate matters.
Lee watched her a moment, wondering himself what this woman-child knew about sex. More than that, he wondered a little about Toosie. Maybe it was just his imagination, but when he saw the two together, he felt sure there was a resemblance. Had Audra’s father…oh, she’d never believe it. She probably thought he was the most perfect man in the world. “Who is Toosie’s father?” he asked bluntly.
Audra walked back to her chair. “Some white foreman my father has long since fired. Her mother, Lena, has been in charge of the household staff for years. She answers to me, of course.”
Lee decided not to press the issue. “Why don’t you tell me about your brother? Seems like he would have stayed to help your father rather than come here with you. You said yourself summer is your father’s busiest time.”
Audra felt her defenses rising. If he ever made fun of or laughed at her brother when he finally heard him speak, she knew she could never like Lee Jeffreys. Joey had remained silent at the supper table tonight, and Lee had at least avoided coaxing the boy into talking. He had not been rude to him.
“My brother and I are very close,” she replied. She moved away from him, toward her room, but she could feel him walking up behind her again. She wished he would keep his distance, because for some strange reason it was difficult to think with him so near. “I have been like a mother to him. My father…he gets very impatient with Joey. I am afraid he is a little disappointed in him because he thinks Joey can’t
learn, but he is really quite bright; and in spite of how my father seems to favor me over him, Joey is my best friend and my biggest supporter. I understand him, and he understands me. Sometimes I feel like I have to make up for the attention he doesn’t get from our father. I knew he wouldn’t be happy at home alone. It is hard for him to be stern with the slaves because of his speech, and Father rather ignores him, so I asked that he be allowed to come with me. I thought it would be nice for him to see another part of the country.”
She turned to face Lee, stepping back a little when she realized he was standing closer than she thought. “I really must go inside, Mr. Jeffreys. This is quite improper, me in my night clothes standing out here alone with you.”
Lee glanced at the doorway, catching a glimpse of Toosie peeking at them from behind a curtain. “Oh, I don’t really think we’re alone.”
Audra looked in the direction of his gaze and smiled a little when Toosie darted away. “She must have heard your voice. She keeps a good eye on me, you know. Her real name is Tuesday, because that is the day on which she was born. She has always been called Toosie.” She lowered her voice. “I think she cares for me as more than her mistress. I care about her, too, if the truth be known, but I dare not let her know it.”
Lee laughed lightly, strangely relieved that Audra Brennan was not as cruel and hard-hearted as he had first thought. Her tenderness and understanding toward her brother touched him. “This has been an interesting conversation, Miss Brennan. How about if I take you for a buggy ride tomorrow? We can talk some more. Might as well be friends as long as we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”
Tender Betrayal Page 3
