Mississippi Brides

by Diane T. Ashley,Aaron McCarver

  “I don’t understand, Jeremiah.” Susannah put down her mending and frowned at him. “You sound like you are not planning to stay here and run your shipping business.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “That’s right. I have never enjoyed the business like my uncle does. I have already written to him telling him I didn’t relish the idea of returning to the shipping industry and asking if he would consider allowing a young couple I know to join his business.” Jeremiah reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded note. “He wrote back that he likes the idea of incorporating another family into LeGrand Shipping, and he is delighted to have a war hero for a business partner.” He waited for the meaning of his words to sink in.

  Susannah looked at her husband. “It’s the answer to our prayers.”

  Judah looked at each of them, clearly torn. “I don’t know….”

  A glance upward accompanied Jeremiah’s prayer for the right words. “I know this will be a big change for you, so I’d like for you to take your time and discuss it thoroughly. If you have any doubts at all, we can talk it over beforehand.”

  It seemed to be the reassurance his friend needed. “I don’t think there’s any need for that.” Judah glanced toward his wife and received a nod. “Susannah and I would be foolish to reject your offer.” He picked up his crutches and pulled himself up. Leaning his weight against them, he held out his right hand.

  Jeremiah crossed the distance to the sofa in two strides. He gripped Judah’s hand firmly. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

  Susannah stood up next to them. “You don’t know what it means to us, either. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it ourselves. It makes so much sense. Your talent in running a plantation is obvious from the work you’ve managed to accomplish. And living in town is the perfect answer for me and Judah.” She leaned up and placed a kiss on Jeremiah’s cheek. “Sometimes I think you are an angel sent from God.”

  “Maybe not an angel.” Judah put an arm around his wife. “But he does remind me of Abraham, who walked without question the path God set out before him.”

  While Jeremiah felt uncomfortable with their lavish praise, he did feel God’s hand at work and could only praise Him for His loving guidance on all their lives.

  Chapter 21

  Jeremiah’s fingers tangled in the folds of his cravat. He seemed to have lost the ability to dress himself. He could not be nervous about hosting his first party as the owner of Magnolia Plantation. His gaze fell on the folded papers he and Judah had signed to formalize their exchange and thanked God for working things out to both their benefits over the past month.

  Someone knocked at the door to the master bedroom.

  “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He walked over and jerked the door open as he spoke, expecting that Susannah had sent someone to hustle him downstairs.

  He was not surprised to find Ezekiel standing there. “I come to see if you need help, master.” The weathered face of the former slave whom he now employed as a butler/valet focused at a point somewhere behind him.

  Jeremiah stepped back. “Ezekiel, haven’t I asked you not to call me master? You are a free man now. I am your employer. The Lord is your only Master.”

  “Yessir, mas—I mean Mister Jeremiah.” A smile of pleasure split the man’s face. “I guess I’m het up over all the excitement downstairs. What with Miss Susannah worrying ’bout you getting downstairs before yore guests start arriving…”

  “If you can, help me with this cravat. I can’t seem to make the silly thing cooperate.” He turned back to the mirror and tugged on his shirt collars, which were beginning to droop a little.

  Ezekiel clucked his tongue. “Let me see that.”

  Jeremiah sighed and raised his chin.

  It only took a moment or two before Ezekiel stepped back. “Is that better?”

  A glance in the mirror confirmed that he had chosen his valet well. “Perfect. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ezekiel.”

  The other man chuckled. He picked up the frock coat lying across Jeremiah’s bed and held it up. “It’s good to have a little help here and there.”

  Jeremiah eased his arms into the coat and waited while Ezekiel smoothed the material over his shoulders. “I feel like a trussed up chicken.”

  Ezekiel shook his head. “You look nice. Like the gentleman you are. Now why don’t you get on downstairs before Miss Susannah comes up here to find you.”

  The look that passed between them was full of understanding. All the people working for him at Magnolia Plantation knew Jeremiah did not relish social gatherings. He headed toward the entrance hall with a sigh and prayed the evening would end quickly.

  Judah was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. “Susannah was beginning to fear you weren’t going to be here in time to greet your guests.”

  “Where is your lovely wife?” He glanced around him. Candles and flowers seemed to fill every corner and surface of the vestibule, but he saw no sign of Susannah.

  “She’s gone to see about a trunk of items your housekeeper has collected for shipment to our apart—”

  “If I never move again it will be too soon.” Susannah’s voice interrupted him. She moved gracefully toward them, her blond curls bobbing as she shook her head. “I never realized how much we had accumulated since moving here. And I don’t know where we’re going to put it until our new house is finished.”

  Jeremiah bowed to her. “You are most welcome to store everything here until you have more room. I know you and Judah must be cramped in your rooms above the shipping office.”

  “Nonsense.” She reached up and patted his cheek. “I’ve no doubt you will soon settle down with a wife and family and will need every inch of space for them.”

  He grimaced. “Don’t be so certain. I am content with things as they are for now.”

  Judah winked at him. “Susannah can’t help herself. She’s a born matchmaker.”

  The diminutive woman smiled toward her husband. “Can I help wanting others to experience the happiness we have?”

  The loving look they shared made Jeremiah feel like an outsider. Would he ever find a woman to share his life? The arrival of the first guests ended his speculation. He waited while Judah performed the introductions, spoke to the couple briefly, and gestured toward the ballroom as the next visitors entered.

  He recognized many of the guests from church, including the pastor and Mr. and Mrs. Sheffield, who arrived with their son, Lowell. But there were others he had never met previously. There was a pause in the flow of guests after the arrival of one such family.

  “I cannot believe the Osbournes came.” Judah leaned against the oak balustrade behind him.

  Susannah frowned at him. “Why wouldn’t they come? I made sure to include them. I am sorry their oldest daughter ran away from home, but that is no reason to exclude the rest of the family. And their youngest girl, Felicity, is of marriageable age.”

  “I didn’t say you should not have invited them.” Judah straightened and stepped toward his wife. Jeremiah could not help but compare his friend’s animation and energy against the bitterness and defeat that had once ruled Judah. Running the shipping business in town had given his friend a reason to believe in himself once more. “I am just surprised they ventured out. This is the first party they’ve attended since the scandal became common knowledge.”

  The rest of the conversation was cut off as the front door opened once more for the Tanner family. The matriarch, Mrs. Tanner, entered first, her cane tapping the marble floor. She was followed by the rest of the family—John and Patricia Bass, Mrs. Lewis, and finally the beautiful Alexandra Lewis. Jeremiah found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her. She looked so elegant in her finery, her dark hair piled high on her head, her eyes glowing in the reflected light of the candles.

  “Have the Sheffields already arrived?” Mrs. Tanner’s question brought his attention back to her.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He bowed over her hand even though her
question cut through him like a sword thrust. “Welcome to Magnolia. I hope you and your family enjoy yourselves this evening.”

  “That remains to be seen.” She moved away, followed by her daughter and son-in-law.

  Alexandra’s mother was next, her whispered greeting barely reaching his ears before she followed her relatives into the ballroom.

  Alexandra dropped a curtsy and held out her hand, encased in a black glove. As Jeremiah took it, he wished he could think of something witty to say. Something that would impress her. But his brain turned to mush. He barely managed to get out the necessary greeting before watching her enter the ballroom.

  “I imagine most everyone has arrived.” Susannah held a hand out to her husband. “Let’s join them in the ballroom.”

  The orchestra had been playing for some time now, and the ballroom floor had become crowded with couples of all ages. His gaze rested on a lone young woman who stood a little apart from the rest of the young, single ladies hoping to be partnered for the next dance. He recognized her as Miss Osbourne, the girl whose older sister had caused a scandal. Perhaps he should ask her to dance.

  He headed toward her but was cut off by a group of talkative debutantes who moved in her direction. Miss Osbourne looked up at their approach, an expression of hope on her face. One of the young women pointed at her and giggled, another put a hand to her mouth, while the third girl simply turned her face away. It was the cut direct. His heart went out to her. Another innocent condemned by the narrow dictates of local society.

  Miss Osbourne’s face crumpled, and she ran toward the nearest exit which he knew led to the library. He started to follow her, wanting to reassure her, but before he could take a single step, someone brushed past him. The scent of lemons filled the air. Alexandra Lewis. She hurried out the same door Miss Osbourne had taken. Was she intent on comforting the girl? His heart warmed. What better person to speak to her than someone who had endured a similar experience? He turned back to the ballroom and assumed his responsibilities as host.

  Jeremiah smiled and made his way around the room, speaking to everyone and answering whatever questions came his way. Yes, he had freed his slaves. Yes, he had supplied land and seed for those eager to support themselves, as well as hiring many of the former slaves to help him on the plantation. No, he had no fear of being murdered in his own bed. He made it a point to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Osbourne, hoping his actions would be copied by his other guests.

  He was about to go in search of Miss Osbourne and Alexandra when they returned to the ballroom. Alexandra beckoned toward Lowell Sheffield, who moved toward her. Even though he was several feet away, Jeremiah could hear her as she introduced her beau to the shy young woman at her side. Lowell dutifully asked the girl to dance, and the pair of them left Alexandra standing alone.

  A desire to thank Alexandra for her thoughtfulness overwhelmed him, and he moved toward her. “May I have this dance?”

  Her dark gaze met his own. “I am flattered, sir.”

  Jeremiah led her to the center of the room as the orchestra began playing a minuet. He had to concentrate on the steps and therefore did not get to speak his mind. But as soon as the music died away, he took her by the arm. “I’d like a word with you if you have a moment.”

  Color rose in her cheeks, but she nodded and allowed him to lead her through one of the arched doorways onto the wide balcony outside.

  “What did you wish to say to me?” Even though there was little light out here, he could see that her shoulders were squared and her chin was high.

  “I am very impressed that you left the party to comfort Miss Osbourne.” He wished he could see the expression on her face as she absorbed his words. But all he could see was the shrug of her shoulders.

  “Jeremiah, you are the one who taught me to reach out to others when they are hurting. How could I do less for that poor young woman than you did for me? She just needed someone to remind her of God’s love.”

  Her lemony perfume enveloped him once again, making him think of warm breezes and long summer afternoons. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning toward her. She was so sweet, so sincere in her explanation. Even though he would never have wished such pain on her, he could see how much maturity it had brought her. She was no longer the self-centered girl he had met in Natchez Under-the-Hill. And he found himself falling in love with the young woman she had become.

  His heart pounded. Falling in love? With Alexandra Lewis? He cleared his throat and tried to marshal his thoughts. “Alexandra…I—”

  “Alexandra, there you are.” Light seemed to flood their corner of the balcony as Lowell pulled back a curtain and stepped toward them. “Your grandmother told me to come find you. She wants to see us dancing together.”

  Jeremiah could not think of a way to prevent the young man from inserting himself between them. He watched as she smiled up at Lowell. Was that relief on her face? Or were the shadows playing tricks with him? Yet she never looked back as Sheffield led her to the ballroom.

  And why should she? Her future had already been set for her. Her kindness this evening had probably been nothing more than a performance for the benefit of Lowell and his family. Why else would she choose to return with him to the dancing?

  He was a fool for thinking she had changed. Without God’s intervention, she would never be anything more than a shallow girl intent on securing her place in local society.

  Chapter 22

  Sadness filled Alexandra as Lowell helped her into his carriage. She glanced back at Jeremiah LeGrand, so tall and straight, standing alone on the steps of the church. Last night’s party did not appear to have endeared him to the townspeople. He looked like a boulder in a rushing stream, untouched by the men and women who brushed past him.

  Lowell climbed up next to her and grabbed the reins. “What are you looking at?”

  She turned and offered him a smile. “Nothing. I was just wondering if what I heard about Jeremiah LeGrand was true. Has he really bought Magnolia Plantation?”

  “Yes. It’s a disgrace. Pa says he’s making a mockery of all the other planters. Did you know he’s freed all of his slaves?” Lowell slapped the reins. “Claims he can make his plantation work by paying his laborers and allowing them to grow their own crops.” Alexandra did not much care for the sneer he wore as he continued. “Several of our neighbors say it’s going to lead to rebellion and maybe worse. We’ve instructed our overseers to report any suspicious activities among our own slaves.”

  Alexandra looked at the set face of the man beside her. “Is there any chance Mr. LeGrand is right? Slavery seems so terrible to me.”

  “Slavery is not terrible. It’s been around for a long time. It’s a biblical concept. Even the Jews used slaves to get their work done. In more than one place, the Bible warns slaves to work hard for their masters. Paul said they should do their best work like they are working for the Lord.”

  “But what about the farmer who paid wages to his workers in Jesus’ parable?”

  “You don’t understand the least thing on this subject, Alexandra. If I set my slaves free, they wouldn’t be able to fend for themselves. They would probably end up dead from starvation or become criminals who rob others of what they have.”

  Alexandra wanted to argue they could be taught skills. On her grandmother’s plantation, many of the slaves worked as carpenters, blacksmiths, and bricklayers. They even had a cabinetmaker. Obviously these men were skilled. But Lowell did not give her a chance as he warmed up to his theme.

  “I can’t agree with people who mistreat their slaves, but as long as we feed and clothe them, they are better off than if they were free and had to deal with all the problems Pa and I have to solve. They’re much like little children, happier when they are told where to go and what to do. In turn, their work makes it possible to produce the cotton the rest of the world wants. Without slaves, I would not be able to turn a profit.”

  “But what if Mr. LeGrand teaches his slaves a trade? Wouldn’t that
be a better solution for them and for him?”

  The glance Lowell tossed at her was full of scorn. “I suppose it speaks well of your tender heart to be so concerned with the welfare of others, but you should leave such things to men.”

  Disbelief flashed through Alexandra. In previous days, she might have lashed out at Lowell for his attitude, but those days were gone. Her faith would not let her continue challenging Lowell’s stance. She would pray for a change of heart for the man sitting beside her. Lowell was an intelligent, well-educated man. Surely he would eventually be open to new ideas.

  A long, mournful whistle gained her attention. “That sounds like a steamboat.” She put a hand on Lowell’s arm. “Can we go to the waterfront and watch it come in?”

  He glanced down at her hand and then into her eyes. She could tell by his gaze that Lowell was smitten. Alexandra’s cheeks warmed at the message she read in his hazel eyes. She removed her hand as if it had been burned.

  “Of course, I’ll take you if you think your family won’t mind.”

  Alexandra considered. “We won’t stay long. I love seeing the paddlewheels churning through the water, and the people are so interesting.”

  “Pa says most of them are riffraff and wastrels looking for an easy life.”

  The flush drained out of her cheeks. “Lowell”—she could not keep the disappointment from her voice—“I cannot believe you said that. Many of those people have sold everything they own for passage here. They deserve our sympathy, not our scorn.”

  He didn’t answer her as he maneuvered the carriage around to comply with her request, but the set of his chin told her he was not happy with her point of view. Another difference.

  Alexandra was beginning to wonder if they had anything in common. They should have seen eye-to-eye on any number of topics, but the more they were together, the more she realized they did not. It was ironic. Lowell would probably ask for her hand in marriage in the next few days, but she wanted more than anything to tell him they would not suit.