by Lisa Jackson
Ruth, still speaking quickly, explained that all the furnishings, although not the original pieces for this house, were true to the time period. And in the spirit of Georgian architecture, every feature in the house had a twin—if there was a window in the front, there was a matching window in the back. Each room had an equal size room above it, and if there was a sconce on the left, there was a sconce on the right, and so on. She paused to allow everyone to appreciate the symmetry. Then they started in the room to the left, which used to be a sitting room designed for a suitor and the girl he was courting to sit and get acquainted. A curved mirror near the ceiling assured that there could be eyes on them at a moment’s notice. Here Ruth was forced to talk about various British officers, and how Lord Cornwallis occupied the Burgwin-Wright House in 1781, commandeering it as his headquarters. “Shortly before the British army was defeated for good,” Ruth added quietly. Danielle prayed Anya wouldn’t say anything else. Especially since this was usually the time when Ruth would tell stories of how horrifically Cornwallis behaved while in the house, including supposedly once exclaiming, “Death and destruction to all the Americans!”
Maybe Dani would cheer Anya up later by informing her that Ruth had left this bit out. They headed upstairs to a dining room, and a front parlor room that consisted of formal seating, and a piano. Usually unattended, for this occasion a pianist sat at the piano playing Christmas tunes. Most of the furniture of that time was made so that it could easily be rolled out of the way if guests wished to dance. Many famous and prominent politicians and families had been entertained in this very room. From here windows on three sides offered a remarkable view down Market Street. Danielle had taken the tour many times and could always imagine what it would have been like in the past. At the time this was built, it was the only house in town, for literally at the end of the long, dirt street was the town market. Ruth often pointed out that it would have been fairly noisy up on the second floor, not to mention the smells of a city from that time period. Sometimes Danielle felt as if she could actually hear the clop of horses, and smell the scent of tar, and manure. Not very glamorous, but it still seemed romantic to her. She glanced at Sawyer, to find that he was looking at her. She felt flushed with joy, and then guilt. Nate and Anya still looked miserable.
“Isn’t this your favorite room, Danielle?” Ruth said.
“Yes, it is,” Danielle said. She couldn’t believe Ruth remembered that. She never thought Ruth had heard anything she had ever said.
“Danielle and Nate were childhood sweethearts,” Ruth announced to the group. There was a murmur of “Awwww.”
“I’m gobsmacked,” Anya said.
“But now Nate is engaged to this lovely lady,” Danielle said, stepping over and linking arms with Anya.
“Was engaged,” Anya said.
“Is engaged,” Nate said. He stepped forward, extracted Dani’s arm from Anya, and put his arm around her waist. To Dani’s relief, Anya didn’t resist. Danielle wandered away from the group as Ruth explained how the Wrights came to own the house, and then William McRary and his wife, Martha, and finally, in 1930, it was purchased by the National Society of Colonial Dames of America in North Carolina.
The tour ended in the basement. Everyone got a chance to look down into the cellar that used to be a holding cell for prisoners who had been condemned to death. Dani could only imagine how they felt.
Anya stepped forward, then grabbed Ruth in a hug. “You were wonderful. I’m so proud to be your future granddaughter-in-law.”
Dani gasped. She had never seen anyone hug Ruth in public, not even Nate. The most affection she’d ever seen Ruth give anyone voluntarily was a simple pat on the hand. Nate must have been just as horrified, for he stepped in to pry them apart.
Anya cried out as Nate ripped her away. “I’m trying!” she said. “Why can’t you see that I’m trying!” With that, she turned and fled out the back door.
The back door emptied onto a porch and beyond it, a brick courtyard enclosed by ballast-stone walls. The stones had been shipped in from the West Indies, and even the ferns covering them were thought to be from seeds on the same journey. A small stone hut against the back was the original kitchen where the slaves prepared the meals, and above it, up a set of stairs, were the original slave quarters.
Danielle, Sawyer, Nate, and Anya stood in the back, near one of the two outdoor jail cells, while the rest of the participants had a look at the dungeon where horse thieves and murderers used to be kept until sentencing. Why they even bothered with the ritual, Dani didn’t know, for any person who had been tossed into the dungeon was always condemned to die. Horse thieves were considered more heinous than the murderers. Visitors weren’t actually allowed to go into the dungeon, rather they had to look down into it through a glass panel cut into the wood floor. Dani often wondered why Burgwin decided to use the old jail as the foundation for his home. Most likely it was too costly to dig up, but there was something terribly eerie about living among the remnants of the past. And when she looked out to the manicured lawn, she could easily see the gallows, and tried not to imagine men hanging. Anya, on the other hand, seemed almost giddy to be inside an old, outdoor jail cell. The jails and the dungeon dated back to 1740.
“Is this where you and Dani used to make out?” Anya said.
“It was hardly making out,” Nate said.
“You told her?” Dani said.
“Ruth told me,” Anya said. “I’m surprised she didn’t announce it to the entire group.”
“What do you say, Sawyer?” Anya said. “Should we make out?”
“What?” Dani said.
“Enough, Anya,” Nate said.
Anya grabbed Sawyer, who was already grinning, and planted a kiss on him. Sawyer wasn’t the instigator, but from what Dani could tell, he wasn’t exactly pushing her off. Anya finally came up for air.
“How does that feel, Nate?”
“It feels as if my fiancée is so childish, so jealous of something I did when I was a teenaged boy, that I’m starting to wonder if I haven’t made a grievous error in judgment.”
“And how do you think I feel when your grandmother spews her hatred and you do nothing but stand there and take it?”
“She’s been giving this exact tour for the past twenty years. It’s history, Anya. What do you want me to do—rewrite history?”
“She hates us!”
“She hates the North, too, if it’s any consolation. My grandmother would erect a impenetrable shield just around Wilmington and the beaches if she could, stick a flag in it, and never let another soul in.”
“She was out of line today and you just stood there! How could I marry a man like that?”
“I’m moving to London for you. If that doesn’t prove how much I love you, then nothing ever will.”
“You’re moving to London for me? For me?”
“Of course. Who else? If I had wanted to move out of Wilmington, I would have gone to New York with Dani.”
Danielle tried to sink further into the jail cell but she hit the wall. Sawyer joined her. “If you’ve got a bobby pin,” he whispered. “I might be able to dig us a way out.” Dani slapped her hand over her mouth; it really wasn’t a good time to laugh.
“I thought we were moving to London for your art career. I thought you were excited about moving to London.”
“I was excited about being with you. I didn’t care where we were. I like to make things. With shells, and driftwood, and stones. Where am I going to find those things in some crowded city?”
“I told you—you can make street art. People in the city toss out the strangest things. Broken glass, and shoelaces, and what have you.”
“Garbage? You’re comparing garbage to seashells?”
“We can fly to a beach anytime we want!”
“Would this wedding still be on if I told you I wanted to stay here in Wilmington?”
“Is that what you’re saying, or are we being hypothetical?”
�
�Just answer me.”
“I will not. I will not answer you unless you are truly saying you wish to stay here, and you are asking me a serious question.”
“I’m sick of living in fear that yet another woman is going to get cold feet and find some way to sabotage our marriage.”
“And I’m sick of hearing what brutes the British are. Blah, bloody, blah! I’m starting to think I don’t want to be chained to a Yank for the rest of my bloody life, either!”
Anya stormed off, exiting through an iron gate in the back and to the left.
Nate turned and glared at Dani. “Congratulations, Dani, you’ve done it again. I hope the two of you will be very happy.” He took off after Anya. Dani and Sawyer stood in the jail cell, looking at each other. Sawyer started to whistle, and then stopped when he received a glare from Dani. He lifted his head and looked out to the distance. From the side yard the donkey brayed.
“Where did you say the gallows were?” Sawyer asked.
Chapter 13
Sawyer and Dani stood on the boardwalk. Sawyer paced as he considered her request. “I thought you would have learned your lesson by now,” he said. “You’re still meddling.”
“This wouldn’t be a Southern Christmas if I wasn’t,” Dani said.
“What if she won’t come with me? If I knew how to get women to do what I asked them to, then we wouldn’t still be here.”
“You’re a photographer. Tell her you want to see her Christmas present to Nate. Then show her the picture I sent you.” Dani couldn’t believe she was actually letting someone else see that picture. It was taken right after Nate proposed. A close-up on her face. Horrified. She wasn’t sure why the person sent her the picture. Perhaps they thought it would be good for her to see what the expression on her face looked like just in case she ever had any doubts that she had done the right thing. Too bad that didn’t work or they might not be here now. “If that doesn’t melt her heart, then just pick her and the present up, and carry them to Ruth’s house.”
“Pick her up and carry her.”
“Yes. Sling her over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Are you a real cowboy or not?”
“Should I come galloping in with her on a white horse?”
“If you can pull that off, it would be lovely.”
“You are totally off your rocker, Bright.”
“And you are free to run screaming into the night. After you deliver Anya to the Jewel of Wilmington.”
“The Jewel of Wilmington.”
“Sorry, that’s what they call Ruth’s home.”
“They must be talking about the home because I’ve met the matriarch and the title doesn’t fit.”
“It’s a lovely home,” Dani said. “It was once owned by Captain Harper. A steamer captain.”
“I’m starting to think that ‘A Southern Christmas’ is just another way of saying that you’re all certifiably insane.”
“Now who’s being bright?” Dani walked up to him, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him in for a long kiss. “If you pull this off, you won’t believe how appreciative I can be.”
“Using sex to get your way.”
“Is it working?”
“Has it ever not?”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Kiss me again.” They kissed, only parting when it became obvious that any further and they wouldn’t be able to stop. Dani didn’t want to make love to Sawyer until Nate and Anya were back together. “Let me practice throwing you around like a sack of potatoes,” Sawyer said.
“Try it and I’ll have a go at your crown jewels,” Dani said.
Ruth Hathaway’s jewel of a home was situated up on a hill on South Front Street. The sea-green Queen Anne Victorian was built in 1902 and had undergone extensive restorations after Ruth and her husband purchased it some fifty years ago. Nate’s grandfather had long since passed away, and the eight-bedroom home was more room than she needed, but Ruth considered herself a steward of the property and couldn’t bring herself to leave. Gardeners maintained the expansive grounds surrounding the home, taking special care to prune the magnolia trees, and only lightly trim the crêpe myrtles in the front yard. Too many of Ruth’s neighbors went too far with their trees, Ruth thought, turning them into crêpe murders instead. Ruth Hathaway liked everything just so, and nothing exemplified this more than her annual Christmas gala. And this year it was going to double as a wedding, that is if Sawyer could deliver the bride.
Danielle wished Sawyer was with her as she stepped into the foyer. He would love the dramatic entrance. Mahogany, and cut-and-place English oak floors were in gorgeous contrast to rich dark walls, and Flemish ceilings with exposed beams. A built-in bench imitated the curve of the windows. The elegant wood door was framed by beveled glass. The middle of the foyer was currently taken up by a twelve-foot Christmas tree, with white lights, crystals, and white ribbons adorning it from head to toe. It looked like a wedding tree, but if the festivities were off, it could serve just as well for Christmas. Dani wondered how it was going with Anya, and she was dying to get to Nate and let him know that the cavalry was on the way.
Danielle thought she was early, but several guests were already milling through the exquisite rooms. To her right, the parlor room, and beyond it, separated by parlor doors, the living room. The parlor doors were open, allowing guests to flow from one space to the other, and later, for dancing. Each room boasted a fireplace with its own hand-cut colored tiles, mantle, and decorations. The parlor room’s tile was cream, the living room, a gorgeous emerald. Fires danced in each. Original oil paintings competed with detailed crown molding, chandeliers, and antique furnishings for attention. In the parlor room, two young girls dressed in gowns played Christmas carols on the violin, accompanied by a pianist at the baby grand. Dani passed the curved staircase leading to the second and third floors, and paused to look in at the dining room.
Each room had a lovely color on the walls, but the dining room was Dani’s favorite. It was a sea-blue. The chandelier was from France, the size of a small tree, with crystal droplets as big as leaves. The dining table was fit for a king. Dani was thrilled to see her favorite centerpiece: a large white swan pulling a red sleigh. Dani realized, with a bit of guilt, that she had been more in love with the promise of the lifestyle Nate offered than she was with Nate. She wasn’t entirely aware of it at the time, however, and she was grateful she had followed her heart. Speaking of heart, she couldn’t wait to see Sawyer. And truthfully, she couldn’t wait for Sawyer to see her. She was wearing a silk gunmetal-gray gown. It hugged her figure in the right places, and came down to the floor. She had a light sheer shawl and a black crystal necklace and matching earrings. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head with a few tendrils hanging down. Given the added glow of the candles flickering in nearly every corner of the home, Dani knew she looked gorgeous. She relished the thought of Sawyer thinking so, too. At Sawyer’s suggestion, the framed photograph of Anya had already been delivered. It was sitting on an easel in the living room, near the fireplace. This was where the small ceremony was to be performed. A perfect choice given that it was situated between a set of double Corinthian columns. A smaller pair of Christmas trees flanked the columns, also decked out in white and blue lights and little white satin bows. Dani imagined Anya and Nate saying “I do.” It didn’t hurt in the least. If she had tears in her eyes, they would be tears of joy.
She found Nate in the back gardens, pacing. “Hey,” Dani said. He stopped, looked up, nodded, then continued pacing. Dani hurried over to him. “She’s coming,” she said.
Nate’s head snapped up. “How do you know?”
“Because Sawyer is going to bring her here no matter what.”
“No matter what? As in he’s going to throw her over his broad shoulders and carry her here?”
“If he has to.”
Nate suddenly took Dani’s hands. “What if I’m making a mistake?” Dani thought of the photograph. Anya’s beaming face when Nate
asked her to marry him.
“Close your eyes,” Dani said.
“What?”
“Just do it.” Nate closed his eyes. “Family. Happy. Love. Children.”
He opened his eyes, stared at Dani. “Anya,” he said quietly.
“Exactly,” Dani said. “But I think there’s something you’re going to have to do?”
“What?”
Dani turned Nate around and pointed in the window. Ruth was standing, staring out at them. “You have to stand up for your wife. You have to let your grandmother know, in no uncertain terms, that Anya deserves her rightful place.”
“I’ve been a bit of a coward, haven’t I?”
“It’s time to stop being afraid of your grandmother and start being afraid of your wife instead.”
Nate laughed. “Thank you.” He kissed Dani on the cheek. “And I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For ignoring you for the past two years. All you did is make the best decision for you at the time, and I punished you for it. I really am sorry.”
Dani nodded and then glanced at the window again only to see Sawyer standing there smiling and giving her a thumbs-up. “I think it worked out for the best,” Dani said. If she hadn’t thought she wanted Nate back, she never would have fallen in love with Sawyer. Love worked in mysterious ways. She took Nate’s hand. “I think your bride has arrived. Let’s go.”
Sawyer was holding court in the parlor room with at least six women from six to sixty surrounding him. Peals of laughter rang out. He was wearing a tuxedo. He looked absolutely gorgeous. Dani was a little stunned and forgot all about wanting him to see how good she looked. But he did anyway. He stepped out of the estrogen circle and looked her up and down appreciatively. Then, he gave her the best compliment a bad boy could. He didn’t say a word. He just let out a low whistle. Dani grinned, then before she could stop to mind her Southern manners, she kissed him full on the lips. When they pulled away he kissed her neck just so he could give a low growl in her ear.
