“You wouldn’t sell her, would you?” Audra asked. She could not imagine Brennan Manor without Lena there.
“She’s much too valuable to us. You know that. Trouble is, she knows it, too, so she takes liberties.” Always he worried about how Audra would react if she knew the truth. “I keep her mainly because she’s been like a mother to you and Joey,” he added, “and because I know you wouldn’t want me to get rid of Toosie. Where Lena goes, Toosie goes. I’m not cruel enough that I would separate them.”
“But you have separated other families,” Audra reminded him.
Joseph gave her a scowl. “Seems to me you’ve been listening too much to someone up North. Are you questioning the way we live, Audra?”
Audra picked up a clean fork. “No, Father. The only reason I asked is that I have always wondered why Lena and Toosie were more special to you.”
Joseph felt an uneasiness. How much longer could he hide the truth? It had been easy when Audra was a child, but she was growing up now. In fact, he had noticed something different about her only hours after he had picked her up in Connecticut. She seemed more of a woman, but he could not quite put his finger on what made her seem that way.
“Your mother bought Lena, Audra. She liked her very much, and she made me promise never to sell her. I keep her to honor your mother’s wishes.”
Audra toyed with her dessert, thinking about Lee’s feelings about slavery. “I wish you didn’t have to have March Fredericks use that whip,” she commented. “I don’t like that man, anyway. Maybe if you had a kinder overseer, the Negroes would cooperate better.”
“Kinder! Audra, haven’t you learned anything in all these years? You treat them too good, and they get lazy and spoiled! You have to keep a firm hand, or you end up with a disaster like what happened in Virginia thirty years ago.”
“You’ve told us a hundred times about Nat Turner’s rebellion,” Audra answered.
“That’s because I want you to remember it!” Again his temper was rising. When he got angry, everything about him seemed red, from his face to his hair and even his ears. That red hair was peppered with gray now, and there were considerable wrinkles about his brown eyes. His short but powerful build seemed as rock solid as ever, making him a most formidable contender, both verbally and physically. Few people cared to argue with Joseph Brennan.
Audra was the only one who could talk back to him. “Those Negroes murdered fifty-seven white people, Audra, most of them women and children; and what they did to the women first would make you faint if I told you! Firm discipline by all slave owners ever since then is the only thing that has kept them in line. Our biggest problem now is all this talk about freeing them. Most of them don’t have the slightest idea what is going on in Washington and the North, but when they do, they’ll be harder than ever to control!”
The man paused and scowled before continuing. “I’m sorry, Audra. I shouldn’t be losing my temper when we’ve only just got home. Lord knows I missed you this summer. Nothing is the same here without you. I was so worried someone up North would sway you, or some Yankee man would fill you with lies and take advantage of your innocence. I don’t know what compelled me to allow the trip. It was mostly your Aunt Janine’s nagging, I suppose. I’ve got to stop letting that woman influence me. I know more what’s best for my own daughter than that woman. Lord knows she’s done a pitiful job of raising her own daughter.” He cut into the pie. “Now you can concentrate on your lessons with Miss Geresy. You’ll be helping to run a very big plantation soon. You’ve got to be fully prepared.”
Joey swallowed a piece of pecan pie, noticing that the man seemed to direct most of his attention to Audra.
Finally his father turned to him. “About this Negro trouble—you must understand how important it is to keep them in line, Joey,” he said. “A lot of men like me never used to be so firm with discipline, but it has become a necessity, and there is no getting around it. You and Audra need to understand that.”
Audra pushed her pie away from her. “The difference is, March Fredericks enjoys using that whip of his. It’s his attitude that creates anger in the hearts of the Negroes. You should get rid of him and hire someone whom they can respect.”
Joseph swallowed the last of his wine, surprised at his daughter’s sudden interest and rather commanding attitude. Yes, she had changed. It really wasn’t proper for southern women to interfere with or have an opinion on such things as disciplining the Negroes, but he rather liked it in his own daughter. She was smart and she cared, and that was good. When she married Richard Potter, the man would need a wife who was strong and knew how to take control.
“With Negroes you don’t get cooperation out of respect, Audra. You get it from fear. It’s the only thing they understand—fear and discipline.” He glanced at Joey. “Tomorrow, son, we’ll go out to the fields. You need to watch March work, see how he manages the Negroes. Even with Richard Potter running things, some day you will have to help take charge, whether you like it or not. God knows it’s a battle just getting you to be firm enough and respected enough to do a good job of it.”
“Father, Joey has grown this summer, not just in size, but inwardly. And his speech is improving. Be patient with him,” Audra pleaded.
“I d-d-don’t need you to speak f-for me,” Joey said then, looking from Audra to his father. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “I can run B-brennan Manor just f-fine.” Damn! he thought. Why did he always stutter more in his father’s presence?
Joseph studied his son sadly. “Not with that stutter. No one will respect an order that isn’t barked crisply and firmly. You’ve got to work on that stutter, Joey. And can you order a whipping when necessary?”
Joey hated violence of any kind, hated bringing pain to anything, animal or human. “If I have t-t-to,” he lied, wanting desperately to please his father.
“I have my doubts,” Joseph grumbled. He picked up a crystal bell and rang it, then brushed at a crumb on the sleeve of his silk suit while he waited for someone to come. “If you want to go on with voice lessons, Audra, perhaps I can find someone who will come here to teach you.”
“I’d like that, Father.”
The man rang the bell again. “Where in hell is everybody?” He looked back at Audra. “I am letting you experiment with your talent only to your own heart’s content. I would not push you into anything. It’s really up to you and Richard what you do with your voice.”
Lena opened the swinging door between the kitchen and the dining room. “Yes, Master Joseph?”
“You certainly took long enough! Have that girl bring me some tea, will you?”
“Yes, sir.” Lena left, and Audra breathed deeply for courage.
“Father, I…I think you should know that Joey is right about Lee Jeffreys. He truly was very good to us. He befriended us when no one else would. He can be quite kind and wonderful, and he is as much against the labor situation in his father’s factories as he is against slavery in the South. He is so much against it that he refuses to have anything to do with the family businesses. He has his own law firm in New York. He is very smart and accomplished, graduated from West Point and Yale both. Joey likes him very much. He even tried helping Joey with his speech problem.”
“Well, that’s all very commendable, but he’s still a Yankee.” The man squinted, studying her closely. “Are you telling me you had fond feelings for the man?”
Audra exchanged a knowing look with Joey, and she felt her cheeks growing hotter. Sonda came into the room then and delivered a silver pot full of tea, then quickly left when she saw the ornery look on Joseph Brennan’s face. “Well?” he asked Audra, pouring himself some tea.
Audra poked at a pecan that topped her pie. “He was just a good friend.” I loved him, Father. I shared my bed with him. I gave him up for you, for Brennan Manor. “I just do not want you to think of him in the same way as the others.”
“Mmm-hmm. Well, you tell me one thing—how strongly does he feel about pre
serving the Union, about slavery?”
Audra continued to keep her eyes averted. “Very strongly. He hates slavery, and he is very much against secession. He feels talk of secession is the same as treason.”
“And how do you feel about Brennan Manor?”
She met his eyes. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do, Audra. Your heart is here. If this trouble over states’ rights and slavery grows into secession and perhaps even fighting, could you still call a Yankee man friend, a man out to destroy men like your own father? I don’t think you or your brother realize how serious all this has become, Audra. There is terrible bloodshed taking place right now in Kansas. This is not something that is going to be fixed overnight, and above all else, you are a southern woman, born and bred. If it came to the point where you had to defend your home and your way of life, I believe you would do it with great passion, because you are a proud young woman who loves her daddy and the home where she was born. Brennan Manor is your life, Audra.”
The man sipped his tea. “I suspect you are trying to tell me you could even have had feelings for this Lee Jeffreys that are stronger than friendship.” He watched the flush in her cheeks grow deeper. “I am not a fool, Audra, and not so old that I don’t remember what it’s like to be your age. Young women your age think that love can conquer all, but that simply is not true, Audra. The direction in which this country is headed right now, it’s best you both forget your feelings and each of you stays where you belong. This is not the time to be falling for any Yankee man. And I don’t want this mentioned to Richard Potter—ever.”
Audra struggled against a sudden urge to cry. “It never came to anything serious because Lee would not let it,” she lied. “I just wanted you to know that he is a good man.”
Joseph rose, coming to stand beside his daughter. “I think it’s time you began seeing more of Richard now,” he told her. “You’re old enough. He is a fine southern gentleman, who knows how to run a plantation. He is the only kind of man a woman of your station belongs with, and he would be good to you. The man has loved you for a long time, Audra. He has just been waiting for you to grow up.” He patted her shoulder. “You know you would never be happy with a Yankee. You do realize that, don’t you?”
If only he were wrong. “Yes, Father.”
“For the time being, you’re better off not venturing any farther than Baton Rouge. If that damned Abraham Lincoln gets elected President, our troubles have really begun. You’re safer right here at home until the whole matter is settled.”
Yes, she thought, he was surely right. Lee would certainly agree, and now that she was home, it even felt right. In spite of his sometimes harsh ways, she loved her father dearly. He had always made her feel as though she and Brennan Manor were all he lived for, and it was difficult to picture him growing old here all alone among the ivy and the willows without her at his side.
All that had happened in Connecticut was already beginning to seem like a faraway dream. She had experienced her first feeling of love with a man she could never really have, and that was the end of it. Lee would go on with his life, and she with hers. “May I be excused?” she asked. “I am really not hungry enough for the pie.”
Joseph smiled, glad the subject of Lee Jeffreys was apparently put aside. “Of course. You must be very tired. You go upstairs and get a good night’s sleep. In the morning you’ll wake up in your own, familiar room and you’ll know where you belong. This is the only place where you can be happy, Audra.”
Audra kissed her father’s cheek and left to find Toosie and finish unpacking. She hurried to her room and closed the door, deciding to wait before getting Toosie. She wanted to unpack alone…to remember. She had worn this dress to the beach, that dress for her first solo concert. And here were the seashells Lee had gathered for her.
Yes, the memories were there, to be secretly treasured forever. She found some of the sheet music Edmund Jeffreys had allowed her to keep, opera songs she would continue to study on her own. It was the sheet music that brought a gasp to her throat when she remembered with disappointment that she had forgotten to pack the song she had written for Lee. She had left it at Maple Shadows, in the desk drawer in her room…Lee’s old room.
Would he find it? Probably not. After all, it would be months, maybe years, before he went back there again. What would he think by then if he did find it? Would he have forgotten all about her? She had never even had the chance to show it to him, sing it for him. Perhaps it would lie there forever now, forgotten…like their brief love for each other. For some reason the thought of it brought on the tears she had been trying not to shed. She lay across the bed and let them come.
Downstairs Joseph Brennan took his seat again, glancing at his son. “You might have become friends with this Lee Jeffreys, but I want you to have no more contact with him, understand? No letters, nothing that might encourage the man to reconsider a relationship with your sister.”
Joey swallowed a piece of pie. “B-but I p-promised Lee I would—”
“No contact whatsoever! Is that understood?”
Joey knew when there was no arguing with Joseph Brennan. “Yes, s-s-sir.”
Joseph drank down some more tea, a dark look in his eyes. “No Yankee will ever take my daughter from Brennan Manor.”
Part 2
Who is to say which is the braver thing to do?
To sacrifice one’s pride and beliefs for love?
Or to sacrifice love for one’s pride and beliefs?
For each individual the answer is different,
But for all individuals, either answer can only bring
Pain, and the haunting wonder if he or she has made
The right decision after all…
—AUTHOR
10
January 1860
“You did a great job with that railroad merger, Lee.” Bennett James approached Lee’s desk and shook his hand.
“Thanks, Ben. Have a seat.”
The short, balding man settled his pudgy body down in a red leather chair across from Lee’s desk. Even though he had been practicing law for twenty years longer than Lee had, he admired the young man’s brilliant mind. Lee was good at what he did, and a law firm that made money meant more money for all its partners. Lee had used his personal trust fund to get the firm of Jeffreys, James, and Stillwell off the ground, and it was his intelligence and determination to go after the biggest cases and win them that had made it one of the most respected practices in New York City. Ben had gladly left Cy Jordan’s firm to join Lee. Jordan was a greedy bastard who kept the best cases for himself and who gave little credit to his junior partners. He figured that in the four years he had been with Lee, he had made more money than in the most recent ten years he had been with Jordan.
“With the way the railroads are growing, convincing the B and O to dump Jordan’s firm and take ours on is going to mean money in our pockets for a long time to come,” he told Lee. He reached into a pocket inside his brown tweed jacket to take out a cigar. “Those railroad backers are swimming in money. There will be more mergers, and with this talk about maybe building a railroad west…” He stopped and lit the cigar. “You think that will ever happen?”
Lee shrugged. “Never say never.” He rose and walked to a liquor cabinet, taking out a bottle of his best whiskey and two small glasses. “How about a little celebration?”
“Fine with me.”
Lee poured a small amount in each glass. “You know, Ben, this one was sweeter than most, and not because of the money we made from it.”
He turned and handed one of the glasses to his partner. Ben grinned, his bright brown eyes glittering mischievously as he took the whiskey. “Because you stole the whole thing right out from under Cy Jordan?”
Lee chuckled with sweet victory. “Nothing makes me happier than to be one up on that man. Maybe some day I can run the son of a bitch right out of business.”
Ben shook his head. “If anybody is smart
enough to do it, you are.”
“I’ll do it out of sheer desire.”
They touched glasses and drank down the whiskey. Lee closed his eyes and let it burn his throat, his gut. A little voice told him he had been imbibing a little too much the last four months…ever since Audra disappeared from his life. It seemed a little whiskey every night was the only way he could get any rest without painful memories making sleep impossible.
“Tell me something,” Ben spoke up. “I know Jordan’s a bastard. I worked for him long enough to know some of the tricks he pulls. You told me that when you first opened up, Jordan made a point of advising big businesses not to risk giving you a try, that you were too young and inexperienced—is that the only reason you’re always after his ass? Hell, he’s the attorney for your own family’s businesses. What’s this problem between you two, and why in hell aren’t you the attorney for the family business? You figure you’re just too close to it to do a good job?”
“That’s part of it. Sometimes when it’s your own family, you’re better off letting someone else handle things.” Lee walked to a window, looking down at the busy street below. At the moment it was clogged with horses and carriages, held up because a team of horses had apparently gotten out of control, probably startled by an unusual noise. The wheels of the wagon they had been pulling had crashed into and locked up with the wheels of a passing buggy. Both drivers were standing in the middle of the street shouting at each other. There’s a good little lawsuit, he thought, but he was not interested in “little” cases—only the big ones, the kind that could run men like Cy Jordan out of business.
“I suppose the real reason is my father hates the fact that I’m doing fine on my own. He’s a man who likes to have control not just of his businesses, but his wife…” God, it still hurt to think of his mother lying in that lonely grave in Connecticut, never to play and sing again. “And his children,” he continued. “We never did get along. Maybe we’re just too much alike in a lot of ways. When either of us thinks he’s right, he won’t budge.” That’s how I lost the woman I love, he thought. I always think I have to do what’s right and logical. Are a man’s principles really worth more than love? “At any rate,” he added, “my father was adamant that I join in the family businesses, but I never wanted anything to do with those stinking factories and the poor souls who sweat out their lives in them. It infuriated my father when I opened my own practice.” He turned to face Ben. “I hate to admit it, Ben, but I suspect my father had something to do with Jordan trying to keep me from being successful.”
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