Mississippi Brides

by Diane T. Ashley,Aaron McCarver

  He had apparently taken a moment to rinse his face, although his cheekbones were flushed from his time in the bright sunlight. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and her gaze seemed caught by the muscles in his lower arms. Her mind flashed to the first night she’d seen him. She could almost feel those strong arms supporting her shoulders and knees.

  The butterflies Lowell had caused earlier became more insistent, beating against her chest as though trying to escape. What had happened to the breeze? The air seemed to have been sucked out as this Jeremiah entered the room.

  “Jeremiah.” Susannah raised a hand and the servant bowed over it. “We were just speaking of you.”

  The butterflies got caught in Alexandra’s throat as the man turned his blue gaze in her direction. Unable to speak, she nodded at him, expecting him to turn from her and give some note or information to Mr. Hughes.

  But he didn’t. Instead he seated himself in the chair next to hers. Whatever was the world coming to when a servant sat down to partake of tea? Her shocked gaze swept from him to the Hugheses. Neither of them looked as though anything was out of place.

  “Miss Lewis, isn’t it? Are you and your mother recovered from your journey?” His voice curled around her, setting the butterflies loose once more.

  Before Alexandra could voice her astonishment at his breach of manners, Mr. Hughes leaned forward. “That’s right. The two of you have not even been properly introduced. Miss Lewis, please allow me to introduce Jeremiah LeGrand, a man who has proven himself to be a courageous and devoted friend.”

  As Mr. Hughes continued the introduction, Alexandra pinned a fake smile on her lips. She didn’t care if the man had single-handedly defeated the whole British Navy; he was a servant. He must be taking advantage of his master’s gratitude to insinuate himself into the society of his betters. It should not be allowed. She drew away from him, practically moving into Lowell’s lap. Not that the latter would mind.

  She wished Mr. and Mrs. Hughes had not put her in this position. She wished she had not twisted her foot in Natchez Under-the-Hill. She wished this Jeremiah LeGrand had not helped her. Or that Grand-mère had sent someone to meet them. Only one of those little details would have made this afternoon unnecessary.

  “Mr…LeGrand. You seem to be in the habit of rescuing others. Is that why you were working in the fields a little while ago?” She wondered if anyone else in the room noticed the frost in her voice. A quick glance at Mr. LeGrand’s stiff features gave her the answer. If he wanted to push his way into higher society, he would need to develop thicker skin.

  “I try to follow the Lord’s bidding.” His voice didn’t sound angry, but she felt the sting of his words.

  She lifted her chin and shot him an angry glance. “As do all good Christians.”

  “Would you care for tea, Miss Lewis?” Susannah Hughes’s voice interrupted the staring contest between them.

  Alexandra turned to her hostess and nodded, accepting the china being offered. She balanced the delicate saucer on her knee and sipped from the matching cup.

  Mrs. Hughes served tea to the others in the room and the conversation became more general.

  Lowell was the perfect gentleman, answering questions about his parents and sharing amusing anecdotes of local parties and hostesses. Then he coughed and leaned forward. “I regret my parents would not allow me to join you fellows in New Orleans. I would have enjoyed fighting next to Old Hickory.”

  The man on the other side of her grimaced. “I thought General Jackson had an impossible task, but God stepped in.”

  “What do you mean?” Alexandra couldn’t stay out of the conversation. “I was in New Orleans. General Jackson was nothing short of brilliant. My papa said he was everywhere, tireless even though he was not well.”

  Judah Hughes put his teacup on the table in front of him. “I don’t think Jeremiah would disagree with you, would you?” He waited until Jeremiah nodded before continuing. “Very few people would dare disparage the Hero of New Orleans.”

  The smile that turned up the corners of her mouth was so brittle she was surprised it did not shatter. “In that case I apologize, Mr. LeGrand.” She also placed her teacup on the table, glancing at Lowell as she did so.

  He followed suit, standing and holding a hand out to her. “I believe we should take our leave, Miss Lewis. We have taken up too much of the Hugheses’ time.”

  Alexandra stood up and put her hand on his arm. The other two men stood up, too.

  Susannah reached for the bell pull. “It was so kind of you to come and see us. I hope you will visit again soon.”

  “And you must come to Tanner Plantation. Grand-mère mentioned it specifically when I told her my destination. She said you have not been to visit in quite some time.”

  “Yes, I have been rather busy, what with the harvest and then the arrival of my wonderful husband.” Susannah glanced toward him, her love written plainly across her face.

  For a moment, Alexandra was jealous of the woman. As handsome as Lowell was, she could not see herself experiencing the kind of devotion Susannah felt for Judah. Then she caught herself. This poor woman was tied to a cripple, a man who would always struggle to climb stairs, a husband who could never again partner her at a ball. It was a tragedy. Susannah was a woman to be pitied, not envied.

  Judah smiled at his wife. “Now that things are returning to normal, I’m certain we can arrange for you to spend some time visiting families here. If we can keep Jeremiah out of the fields, all three of us can go.”

  “I doubt I’ll have much time for that.”

  A shiver ran up Alexandra’s spine as his deep growl sounded behind her. “What a shame.” She swung around wondering what game he might be playing now. “I’m surprised you do not see the advantage of being introduced to my family. But perhaps as a servant, you are not aware they are some of the most prominent people in the territory.”

  Susannah gasped at her words. “What?”

  Jeremiah’s gaze narrowed on Alexandra’s face. “Don’t tell me you still think I’m a servant?”

  Alexandra could feel the blush starting somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. It rose with all the insistence of an incoming tide, heating her face and ears as if someone was holding a hot iron to them. “What do you mean?”

  Judah moved awkwardly toward her. “Jeremiah is not a servant. His uncle is one of the wealthiest men in the country. He has no need of any acquaintance to make his way in our society, here or anywhere else for that matter.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and wished the floor would swallow her up. But then her anger turned against the man who had deceived her. Why had he let it go this far? He knew, but he said nothing. Now she would have to apologize. “I am sorry, Mr. LeGrand.”

  “It’s my fault.” His blue eyes, so lacking in condemnation, eased her shame. “I should have told you the truth on the night we first met.” He shrugged. “But you seemed to have so many more important issues to deal with that evening, and I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  Alexandra was as embarrassed as the day she had discovered she was being shunned by Nashville’s elite because of her father’s actions. She was relieved when Lowell offered his arm, but she could feel Jeremiah’s blue gaze piercing the back of her neck as she was escorted out of the house and long after they had left the Hugheses’ land.

  The ride home was quiet. She supposed that was her fault. She couldn’t think of much to say. Her mind was spinning from the implications of what she had learned. What kind of man worked when he did not have to? What kind of man had so little concern for his reputation that he would allow her to continue misjudging him? She could make no sense of it. Jeremiah was not like any other man she’d ever met.

  She filed away her questions for consideration later and turned her attention to Lowell. Perhaps he would appreciate her reticence. He was probably much more used to women who gushed, giggled, and prattled endlessly.

  They had almost arrived at h
er home before she thought to compliment his driving skills. “You are very kind to spend your afternoon squiring me around.”

  His gaze was so different from the irritating man they had left at the Hughes plantation. His hazel eyes were warm, kind, and intelligent. Although there had been warmth in Mr. LeGrand’s eyes, they held none of the eagerness she saw in Lowell’s. “Spending time with you is quite pleasant.”

  The words were spoken with as much ardency as she could wish. But where were the butterflies? Had her time in Mr. LeGrand’s presence killed the budding romance? Nonsense. All she had to do was concentrate and they would return. Wouldn’t they?

  Chapter 9

  Facing a disapproving relative was not one of Alexandra’s favorite pastimes. But it seemed that was what her life had been reduced to. She raised her chin and stared at her aunt’s bunched features.

  “You should not go visiting by yourself.” Aunt Patricia’s high-pitched complaint made Alexandra want to stamp her foot.

  “And who would you suggest as an escort? Uncle John? Cousin Percival?” The latter was dozing in one corner of the parlor. He didn’t even rouse when she said his name. A fine escort he would be. And her uncle had left before daybreak to accompany a large shipment of cotton to the dock in Natchez. He would not return until after dark.

  “Your mother could go with you.”

  Grand-mère shook her head. “She is upstairs abed. It seems she has a sick headache.”

  “So you see, no one is available.” Alexandra pulled on her gloves. “I will take the gig. It has enough room for me to carry them my painting.”

  Her aunt was still not satisfied. “I don’t see why you cannot wait until tomorrow.”

  “Leave her alone, Patricia,” Grand-mère came to her rescue. “No one can blame her for wanting some younger company. Susannah Hughes is an unexceptionable young woman. Exactly the type of matron she should emulate.”

  “Thank you, Grand-mère.” Alexandra kissed the old woman and made her escape.

  It was another beautiful day, with a slight chill to the air to presage colder weather. The warm autumn was much more to her liking than the colder weather of Nashville. Frost would probably not dust the ground before Christmas. Alexandra settled herself in the seat and checked to make certain her gift was secure. She hoped Susannah would like the representation of her home. Alexandra had painted it from memory after her visit, including the oak-shaded pond and attractive home. She had even included the white-feathered egret.

  It took her longer to reach the Hugheses’ home than when she had ridden with Lowell since she was not as daring a driver as he. And the horse pulling her gig was more content to plod than gallop. But she arrived at last to find Susannah, Mr. Hughes, and the fascinating Mr. LeGrand sitting on the front porch.

  Susannah met her at the top of the stairs. “What a pleasure to see you again.”

  Alexandra removed her hat and gloves and handed them to the slave who stood nearby. “I really should have waited until you returned my call last week, but I have a gift for you and could not wait to bring it.”

  “What a thoughtful gesture.” Judah looked stronger than he had before, rising and putting the crutches under his arms with little trouble. He moved to his wife’s side and smiled at Alexandra.

  “Yes, indeed.” Was that irony she heard in Jeremiah’s voice?

  A flush entered her cheeks. Did he realize he was the real reason for her visit? She glanced in his direction, caught once more by the bright blue of his eyes. Those eyes had haunted her as she worked on her landscape. She had even outlined the planes of his face in her sketchbook—from his broad forehead to the square edges of his chin—but she had not been able to capture the exact color of his eyes. They seemed to be lit from within, inviting her to fall into their depths.

  What was the matter with her? Alexandra shook herself mentally and turned from the man. Susannah was looking at her oddly. Had she missed something? The painting. It was still in her hands. She thrust it toward Susannah.

  It took the smaller woman only a moment to unwrap the artwork. Her mouth formed a large O, and she held it so her husband could see it. “It’s beautiful, Alexandra.”

  “You are very talented.” Judah added his praise to that of his wife. He turned to Jeremiah. “Come and see. She has painted our front lawn. She even included the egret.”

  Jeremiah walked over to them, his gaze moving from the painting to her face. “It’s excellent, Miss Lewis. God has graced you with a special gift.”

  Alexandra’s pleasure slipped away. What did God have to do with this? She had worked hard to learn the rudiments of color and perspective. God had not graced her at all. She opened her mouth to answer him, but Susannah forestalled her.

  “Let’s go inside and decide where it should be displayed.”

  Judah nodded. “I think we should start in the parlor. I’ve never liked that portrait of your great-uncle over our fireplace. He seems to watch every move I make.”

  “That is supposed to be the mark of a master, is it not, Miss Lewis?”

  Jeremiah’s question caught her off guard. Was she supposed to agree with him and discourage the Hugheses from placing her art in a prominent position? Her landscape would be more fitting than the portrait of some dead, forgotten relative.

  “I don’t care if it’s a masterpiece or not,” Judah answered. “I would much rather gaze at this landscape while enjoying my tea.”

  “I will leave the three of you to decide then.” Jeremiah bowed in her general direction. “I have work to see to.”

  Disappointment shot through Alexandra as she watched him stride away. She laughed at some remark Judah made, but her mind was consumed with thoughts of Jeremiah. What had happened to her ability to attract a man’s attention? She seemed doomed to failure where Mr. LeGrand was concerned. He was not interested in her at all. Was it because she had mistaken him for a servant?

  As she watched the proud set of his shoulders, she wondered how she ever could have thought him anything other than a gentleman. Would she never learn to look beneath surface appearance? She had been misled by his casual dress and failed to see his intelligence and refinement. Perhaps he would one day forgive her for her mistake.

  Jeremiah could hear her laughter as he walked toward the building that housed the cotton gin. Was she laughing at him? And why should the thought disturb him so much? She was nothing to him. He didn’t even like the type of woman she represented. Hadn’t he read just this morning about the dangers of linking his future with a shallow woman?

  The urge to return to his bedchamber and open his Bible was nearly irresistible. He wanted to reacquaint himself with the chapter in Proverbs that described the value of a virtuous woman. Perhaps he could take a few moments during the lunch hour for reading. In the meantime, he needed to focus on the task ahead of him.

  During the past week, he had instituted several changes in the way work was accomplished on Judah and Susannah’s plantation. The first improvement he had made was to remove the female slaves from the field. They were better suited to work in the smokehouse, gin, sewing room, or kitchens. He had also implemented work breaks for the men in the field. They were allowed two half-hour breaks for eating and several smaller breaks for sitting in the shade and cooling off with water from the nearby stream. The result was a better harvest as the workers were no longer pushed to the limits of their endurance.

  Jeremiah entered the wooden building that had been reserved for use in ginning cotton. Judah and Susannah had made the decision to invest in the hand-cranked apparatus when they first came to Magnolia Plantation. He had read about the invention that separated cotton seed from the fiber but had never seen it working until he came here. It still boggled his mind to see how much cotton could be processed in a single day’s time. The cleaned fiber was packed into bales for shipment back east, where it would be turned into the strong cloth that seemed to be more in demand with each passing day.

  He watched the process for
a little while, making certain the machinery was working properly and the slaves inside were not having any problems. Seeing their shy smiles was rewarding. Even though he did not have the power to free them, he could make certain their circumstances were as humane as possible.

  After leaving the cotton gin, he poked his head in the sewing room to find a roomful of women sitting in a circle of chairs, their fingers flying as they worked on making everything from tablecloths to shifts and trousers for the slaves. Young girls worked next to the older women, concentrating on making straight stitches with the same speed and skill. He was again reminded of the verses in Proverbs.

  God seemed to be tapping him on the shoulder, pushing him to return to the house. He hoped Alexandra would be gone by now, but even if she was still there, perhaps he could avoid seeing her if he was very quiet. He cast a longing glance at the vacant overseer’s house as he walked. He had wanted to move into it, but Judah and Susannah would not hear of it. They insisted he stay in the big house with them.

  Alexandra’s gig was still out front, so Jeremiah circled around to a side entrance. Using the back stairs, he climbed to the second floor. The slave who was sweeping and dusting in his room hurried out as he entered, leaving the door wide open.

  Jeremiah found himself stretching his hearing to try and make out what was being discussed in the parlor on the first floor and thought he heard his name. Were they discussing him? Were Susannah and Judah telling her what he was doing with the slaves? Was she impressed with his progressive ideas, or did she think he was being foolhardy? And what did it matter anyway?

  Disgusted at the direction of his thoughts, Jeremiah closed the bedroom door with a snap and turned to his bedside table. The black leather Bible sitting on it drew him. He sat on the edge of his bed and grabbed it, opening it to Proverbs. He found the thirty-first chapter and his finger ran down the page to verse 10: “Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.”