Mississippi Brides

by Diane T. Ashley,Aaron McCarver

  He threw the paper down on the table and pushed his chair back. His stomach roiled. He would never be able to finish his breakfast. The sustenance he needed could only come from turning to his Master. God would lend him wisdom and strength as He always had.

  Jeremiah saw Alexandra again at church the following Sunday. He thought he was prepared for the pain, but seeing young Sheffield standing so near her took his breath away.

  Susannah and Judah stayed close to him, their expressions full of sympathy and sadness.

  “You’re a better man than he is.” Judah’s whisper took his attention away from Alexandra.

  He shrugged and pushed his hands down into his pockets as they left the church.

  “My husband is right, you know.” Susannah’s voice exposed her concern. “She is making a bad decision. You should go to her, tell her how you feel—”

  “Stop right there.” Jeremiah knew they meant their words for the best, but if they continued, he might lose his sanity and run screaming down the street. “I will be fine. She will be fine. I’m certain she is following God’s lead. Now let me go and congratulate them.”

  He strode away from them to face the couple. “Let me add my best wishes to those of the rest of the town.”

  Alexandra looked up at him, her eyes dark and fathomless. For a moment he thought he saw panic in their depths, but it must have been his imagination. “Thank you, Mr. LeGrand.” Her smile was as bright as the first rays of the rising sun. “I trust you will be able to attend our wedding. My grandmother is planning the ceremony. We’re inviting family and all of our friends.”

  Pain swept through him at her words, and he realized that he’d been hoping the betrothal announcement was a mistake. Or perhaps that Alexandra needed to be rescued from her overbearing grandmother. But she seemed to have embraced a future as the wife of Lowell Sheffield, a man who was his exact opposite.

  This then was the real Alexandra Lewis. The woman he thought he’d seen glimpses of, the one he was in love with, must be a figment of his imagination. “I thought you were someone different, but I was obviously mistaken.” He let his gaze sweep from her dark, perfectly coiffed curls to the tips of her pointed leather boots. She was no more than an empty-headed girl eager to enjoy the luxuries of her station. “I’m sure it will be everything you plan and exactly what you deserve.”

  He clamped his jaws shut when he saw the tiny frown between her brows. What was it about this woman that affected him so? Shame replaced his disgust at her choice. Why had he ever thought someone like Alexandra Lewis could change?

  When did I become so harsh?

  Sheffield put a possessive arm around her waist and sent a pointed gaze in his direction. “Did Mr. LeGrand say something to disturb you, my dear?”

  She shook her head and turned to the next person in line.

  Jeremiah realized he’d been dismissed. Without another word, he retrieved his horse, climbed into the saddle, and cantered back to the plantation. Once there, he threw himself into his usual chores with determination. Perhaps he could work himself free of the shame and regret eating at him.

  Alexandra ran up the stairs to her room and threw herself across her bed. Tears soaked her pillow, the same tears that had threatened ever since Jeremiah’s scornful remarks after church this morning. He was right, of course. She was nothing but a shallow, spineless mouse who could not stand up for what she knew was right.

  Some time later, when her tears were exhausted, a knock on her door made Alexandra sit up. “Come in.”

  Her mother peeked around the edge of the door. “Am I disturbing you, dear?”

  Alexandra slid off her bed and rubbed at her hot eyes. “N–no.”

  “Oh, my darling daughter.” Her mother stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and held out her arms. “Come here and tell me all about it.”

  With a sob, Alexandra complied, falling into her mother’s embrace. She had only thought the tears were dried up. They gushed from some vast well inside her and slipped around the corners of her eyes. She felt like a child as her mother stroked her back and murmured comforting words in her ear. After all they had been through, it seemed their relationship had come full circle.

  Alexandra finally pulled away, sniffing.

  Mama pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and patted her daughter’s wet cheeks with it. Then she looped her arm through one of Alexandra’s and led her to a chair. “Sit down and let’s see if we can sort this out.”

  Alexandra took a deep breath, still feeling the hitch in her chest from all the crying she’d done. She watched as her mother pulled another chair around to face her. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Her mother raised an eyebrow at her. “Let’s start with the problem that is making you cry your heart out. This is a very special time in your life. A time when you should be happy and excited, looking forward to your nuptials and setting up your own household.”

  “I know. And I am happy. It’s just that…just that I don’t want to be shallow and uncaring.” She stopped to consider her words. “I have only recently realized what it means to be a Christian. I want to do the Lord’s work.”

  Her mother tilted her head. “And you don’t think you can do that once you marry Lowell?”

  Alexandra sighed. How could she explain the problem without exposing the real reason for her sorrow? Jeremiah’s pointed words had pierced her deeply. Every line of his face had screamed disdain. She shouldn’t care. He was practically a stranger, but somehow she wanted to earn his approbation. She wanted to see his blue eyes glow with appreciation the way they had last week when she’d seen him on the riverfront. It mattered more to her than she could have ever imagined.

  Knowing she could not give her mother the real reason for her tears, she finally settled on something that would be understood. “Lowell and I don’t always see eye-to-eye on matters.”

  “Oh.” Her mother dragged the syllable out. “So you’ve had a tiff with your betrothed?”

  “No. Lowell is very understanding, but he doesn’t think I should worry about things like business and commerce.”

  “Alexandra, when have you ever cared about such things?”

  She looked across at her mother, unable to argue the point. Mama was right. She had never cared about the topics men seemed to spend so much time discussing. Never wondered about slavery or politics. She had always focused on clothes and parties, flirting and gossip.

  But her tongue was tied by her inability to fully reveal what was in her heart. She could hardly admit to Mama her feelings for a man to whom she was not betrothed. So she shook her head and twisted the handkerchief she was still holding. “I don’t know.”

  “Well then, I guess we’ll have to put it down to youthful dithering.” Her mother sighed. “Perhaps your father and I did not raise you as we should have. My mother certainly thinks we allowed you too much freedom.”

  Too much freedom? When she couldn’t even choose her own husband? She had no freedom at all. But now was not the time to make a complaint. Now was the time to do her duty for her family. “Don’t worry.” She turned to face her mother. “I won’t let you down, Mama.”

  And she would not. Her mother was counting on her to make an advantageous marriage. “Everything is all right. Thank you for coming to talk to me. I’m feeling better now.” Putting on her best smile, she pushed aside her doubts and her feelings for Jeremiah LeGrand.

  Her mother stared at her for a few moments before nodding. “Just remember how much you’ve dreamed of having a husband and a home of your own. Lowell is the answer to your prayers.” She stood up, gave Alexandra one last hug, and left her alone.

  Even if her own life was falling apart, Alexandra was comforted to see her mother beginning to resume her life. For a while, she had thought Mama would never recover from Papa’s death. At least that fear had proved to be groundless.

  Perhaps her fears that she was marrying the wrong man would also turn out to be groundless.
r />   Chapter 26

  Jeremiah wiped sweat from his brow and shaded his eyes against the sun. A carriage and a pair of men on horses were riding up the lane toward his home. The gatekeeper, one of the freed slaves, came running to him. “Master Jeremiah, you got some fancy visitors comin’ to see you.”

  He dropped the sledgehammer he’d been using to pound new fence posts into the ground. “Mark, didn’t I tell you to stop calling me master?”

  “Yessir. I’m sorry.” The young man dug a toe in the ground.

  Jeremiah put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. Now tell me what the men said.”

  Mark’s eyes widened. “They said fo’ me to come git you and tell you they was comin’.”

  He squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Okay, you’ve done what they asked. Now go on back to the gatehouse.”

  The young man, boy really, ran off.

  Jeremiah walked to the well and raised a bucket of cool water, using it to wash his face and hands. Then he strode to the house, unrolling his sleeves as he walked. Too bad he didn’t have time to change into fresh clothing, but it would be rude to keep his guests waiting that long.

  He stopped to tell the cook to prepare scones and coffee before going to meet the men in his parlor. The tentative smile on his face disappeared when he saw Mr. Sheffield and his son, Lowell, standing to one side of the parlor, apparently discussing some divisive matter. A stocky, gray-haired man was staring into the fireplace. Randolph Fournier. Jeremiah recognized the man although he did not know him well. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

  Mr. Sheffield started as if Jeremiah had shot at him. Lowell shuffled his feet and looked at the floor. Mr. Fournier turned around and sketched a shallow bow before clearing his throat. “We’ve come on a very serious errand, I’m afraid.”

  The housekeeper entered the room with the tray he had ordered. Jeremiah thanked her and invited his guests to sit down. None of them spoke until she left the room.

  Pouring the coffee carefully, he passed the brimming cups to each of them. “Please forgive my clumsiness. I am an awkward host.”

  Mr. Fournier took a sip from his cup, made a face, and set it down. “Your manners, or the lack of them, are not the reason we’re here.”

  Mr. Sheffield turned down the coffee but took one of the scones from the tray. “Yes, we have heard a troubling rumor about how you’re running this place. But instead of condemning you outright, we came to find out the truth of the matter.”

  Sitting back against the sofa, Jeremiah forced his fists to relax. He understood exactly why these men were here. They were going to try to force him to follow their rules. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Go ahead.”

  This time, Lowell spoke up. “Is it true you are paying your slaves—”

  “Former slaves.”

  Lowell grimaced at the interruption. “Are you paying them for the crops they are raising on your land?”

  “Yes.” Jeremiah did not elaborate. The way he saw it, these men had no right to question the way he ran things at Magnolia. And if they thought they could stop him from doing what he thought was right, they would soon learn their mistake. He would never try to tell any of them how to run their estates, and he expected the same consideration from them.

  “Preposterous.” Mr. Fournier raised a white handkerchief to his nose and sniffed. “You come in here from who knows where and stir things up with your radical ideas. You may not realize how much trouble you’re causing, but the whole town is in an uproar. Even the slaves. Don’t think they haven’t learned about what you’ve done. It’s a wonder we haven’t all been murdered in our beds. You have put all of us in danger. We will not allow anarchy to rule here.”

  “Mr. Fournier, Mr. Sheffield, Lowell”—he nodded to each man as he spoke their names, praying for temperance—“while I realize each of you is an experienced planter, you must realize that you do not have all the answers. This is my plantation, my home. And I will run it in the way I see best.”

  The older men looked shocked.

  Lowell had a sneer on his face. “What did I tell you, Pa? This visit is a waste of time. He’ll never listen to reason.” His cup and saucer hit the table with a clatter. “We may as well be on our way.”

  “Please don’t let me stop you.” Jeremiah stood. “I wouldn’t want to keep any of you from your busy lives.”

  “Well, I never.” Mr. Fournier stood up and brushed his coat lapel free of crumbs with his handkerchief. “I suppose it’s also true you’re teaching your slaves to read and write?”

  Jeremiah nodded.

  “That is against the law, sir.”

  Jeremiah took a deep breath to steady himself. “As I said earlier, they are no longer slaves, and it is not against the law to educate free people.”

  The older man shook his head, his expression showing disgust. “You mark my words, LeGrand. You will not be allowed to continue flaunting our traditions. Don’t make the mistake of ignoring our advice.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of ignoring you, sir.” Jeremiah opened the door and swept his hand in a wide arc. “But I will not be intimidated by someone just because he doesn’t agree with my views.” He called for the carriage and horses to be brought around and escorted his guests to the front porch. “Now if you will excuse me, gentlemen.” He rolled up his sleeves and brushed past them, taking the front steps two at a time. “I have several jobs to finish before the day is over. Thank you for your visit.”

  Jeremiah knew his guests seethed as they departed, but he was determined to stand firm in what he truly felt God was leading him to do. No matter what any of them said or did.

  Chapter 27

  And I’m not sure about inviting the Anderson family, my dear.” Mrs. Sheffield’s hazel eyes sharpened, reminding Alexandra of her betrothed.

  Alexandra took her pen and carefully inscribed the name on the list. “I’m not sure I know them.”

  “That’s not surprising. They do not have any children your age. Their oldest son, Charles, went to sea when he was just a lad. He doesn’t come home often. And their girls, Catherine and Christine, married Kaintuck boatmen.” She shook her head. “It was a terrible scandal because they chose husbands so far beneath them. I don’t think their poor parents ever recovered.”

  Wondering if she’d been caught up in a nightmare, Alexandra pushed back an errant curl with one hand and held down the list of families with the other. She wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to go. So she sighed and turned her attention back to Lowell’s mother. “I don’t want to exclude anyone because of something in the past. I know only too well how hurtful that can be.”

  Mrs. Sheffield’s eyes widened. “Oh, my dear, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—” The older woman’s cheeks reddened. “Of course we will invite them.” She cleared her throat. “Is the wind getting too brisk? Perhaps we should move inside.”

  Alexandra accepted the change of subject in deference to Mrs. Sheffield’s obvious dismay and glanced around. The gardens and the front lawn were beginning to come to life as spring chased away the freezing temperatures of winter. “I am enjoying the sunshine and the chirp of the birds.”

  Galloping hooves drowned out the sounds as Lowell and his father thundered down the lane toward the house and around to a side entrance without stopping. Mrs. Sheffield raised a hand in welcome, but neither man acknowledged her greeting.

  Mrs. Sheffield looked at Alexandra, a forlorn smile on her face. “Mr. Sheffield and Lowell have been preoccupied of late.”

  “Should we go inside and find out what has happened?”

  “Oh no, dear. You will find it’s much better to leave the men alone at times like this. They would not appreciate our meddling. They will rush hither and yon making plans and devising strategies. And then the crisis will pass, and they will once again devote their time to us.” She patted Alexandra’s hand. “In the meantime, we have each other. Now, where were we?”

  Alexandra looked down at the list, but her mind clanged
a warning. Was this why Lowell did not seek or value her opinion in certain matters?

  The front door opened, and she turned, a relieved smile on her face. Lowell must have decided to come out and greet her. But it was only the housekeeper wringing her hands on her apron. “Missus Sheffield, I need you inside, ma’am.”

  “What’s wrong, Sally?” Mrs. Sheffield pushed back her chair. Alexandra started to rise, but she shook her head. “You stay out here. I’m sure I’ll only be a minute or two.”

  Sitting back in her chair, Alexandra tried to recapture the peacefulness she had felt during her morning prayer, but it was impossible. She thought back to the days before her father had died. If she had not ignored his rushing hither and yon, things might have turned out differently. But with her awakened faith she knew she could not impose her own will on her father. God had lovingly given each person the right to choose whether to follow Him.

  Yet she still could not rid herself of the notion that she might have been able to protect the victims of his crimes if she had just paid attention to the choices her father was making. She stood. She had no idea what was going on with the Sheffield men, but she would find out. She was determined not to make the same mistake again.

  Raised voices drew her attention to one of the large windows. It must be coming from Mr. Sheffield’s study. She was about to sweep past it when a name brought her up short.

  “He is a menace to all of us.” She recognized Lowell’s voice. “Jeremiah LeGrand must be stopped. We tried it your way, Pa, but now you must see he will not listen to reason. He believes that freeing his slaves will not endanger the rest of us.”

  “There has to be a less violent way to convince him.”

  “It’s either him or us.” Someone pounded a fist on the wall next to the window where she was standing.

  Alexandra jumped back, her heart hammering against her chest. After a moment, she forced herself back to the glass panes. She had to know what Lowell was proposing.