His father’s mention of a woman brought the main focus of his problem back to mind. He met the older man’s gaze, his own equally steely. “What if your own daughter—say, Hester-decided to marry a man who meant to fight for the North? What would you do?”
“’Tis not a fair hypothesis, I fear.”
“Of course it is, Father. Hester still plans to marry Auguste Fontaine, doesn’t she?”
“Aye, son, that she does.”
“All right, then. Should he decide to throw in his lot with the North, would you refuse to allow their marriage?”
“That will not happen.”
Channing broke into a broad smile. “I’m glad I asked. And I’m glad you feel that way, Father. If you would allow Hester to wed under these circumstances, then I’m sure Colonel Swan won’t stand in the way of my marrying Virginia.”
“You mistake my answer, son.” Thompson McNeal suddenly looked far older than his years. “That will not happen because they will be wed in France. Auguste has convinced our Hester to go to his homeland, until all this unpleasantness is over. Your mother won’t hear of a wedding taking place without our being there. I was instructed by the women of Clan McNeal not to say a word of this to you until after our celebratory dinner this evening, but it seems best that I tell you now. You will protect me from their wrath with your silence, I presume.”
Channing could only nod. His father’s confession of their plans left him numb and speechless. The whole family, transplanted to France?
“’Twould be a way out for you, as well, Channing. Come with us. Bring Virginia. No one could blame you for wishing her away from what is to come, least of all her own father.”
The full impact of his family’s plans hit Channing suddenly. He cast his gaze wildly about. “What about Belle Grove? Who will be here to look after our home?”
“Land needs little tending in time of war. Scorched earth yeilds finer crops after the fact. But there’ll be no loss of life on my land, I vow. My family will be safely away. As for the slaves, I have been quietly manumitting our people over the past years. The few who remain in bondage, I’ll free before I leave for France. They may stay or go, as pleases them. A few of the loyal ones will remain, I’m sure. They will see to safeguarding the place as best they can.”
“France?” Channing muttered to himself, still unbelieving.
“Aye, Paris it is for Clan McNeal. We’ll see a bit of the world, buy your mother and sisters some fancy new gowns, and drink all the fine wines to be had.”
“While back here a nation is being torn assunder?”
Thompson McNeal looked sad for a moment, but then he smiled. “’vTis not my fight, lad, nor your mother’s and sisters’. Should I force them to stay, only to prove some obscure point?” He shook his head. “Nay! I wish them safe and happy—far away from what’s to come. You and your sweet Virginia would be a most welcome addition to our band of pilgrims.”
Channing felt cold, empty, and more alone suddenly than he ever had felt in his life. Slowly, he shook his head. “I can’t, Father,” he whispered. “My duty lies here.”
“So be it!” McNeal said. “I told your mother it would be so. She’ll be sore disappointed, but as for me, I’m proud of you, son. No matter which side you choose.”
Sadly, but with solemn resolve in his voice, Channing answered, “There’s no doubt which side that must be, Father.”
Thompson McNeal put his arm around his son’s shoulders and gave him a brusque, manly hug. “We’d best not keep your mother and the girls waiting any longer. We’ll talk of happy things at dinner and celebrate your return home and your coming wedding to Virginia. No long face at the dinner table, lad. Understood?”
“Understood,” Channing answered, but he couldn’t imagine how he would be able to seem cheerful under the circumstances.
After Channing left Swan’s Quarter to ride to Belle Grove, Virginia felt too nervous to be with anyone. Before her mother came downstairs or her father and brothers returned to the house, she hurried to her room. None of them knew that she had finished the quilt cover. She could hide out for hours with no one the wiser. They would think she was still working and leave her alone to think, to plan. She could not allow Channing to tell her parents his intentions until after they were married. What difference could a few days make?
She closed her bedroom door with a feeling of relief, as if she had shut out all the problems in her life. As long as she was here, in the very room that had been her nursery as an infant and was now her sanctuary, she was safe. She could think straight, at last.
Her decision came as swift and as sure as thunder after a bolt of lightning. Elopement!
Hurrying to her armoire, Virginia pulled out a leather satchel that she often used when visiting friends for houseparties on weekends. She snatched clothes from drawers and stuffed them in, added two pair of slippers, and folded a reasonably elegant gown on the top of the rest. She was trying to close the case, when she heard a soft knock at her door.
“Virginia? Are you still working on your quilt? You’ll ruin your eyes, dear.”
Before she could say a word, the door opened and Melora Swan walked in. Surprise registered on her face at the sight of the bulging suitcase on the bed.
“What in the world?”
Caught in the act, Virginia didn’t answer. She stood perfectly still, her head bowed to hide the trace of tears swimming in her eyes.
“Virginia?” Her mother’s voice was soft but firm, demanding an answer.
The girl shrugged and sniffed. “Just some old things I thought I’d give to Polly for her daughters.”
Melora moved to the side of the bed and touched the soft white fabric of the gown on top of the pile. “Why, you haven’t even worn this yet. It’s part of your trousseau—one of the gowns we bought in New York.”
“It doesn’t fit right.”
“It most certainly does! I helped with the alterations myself. Come now, Virginia. Tell me what’s going on.”
At that moment, Virginia raised her left hand to her cheek to brush away a stray tear. Her mother’s eyes missed nothing.
“Your ring!” Melora cried. “Channing’s home!”
“Yes,” Virginia choked out.
“You haven’t had a misunderstanding, have you?” When Virginia only shook her head, Melora gasped, “You aren’t with child?”
“Oh, Mother, I wish I were!”
Virginia dissolved into a fit of sobs. She was in her mother’s sheltering arms almost instantly, blurting out the whole sorry mess before she could stop herself.
Melora tried to stay calm, to reassure her daughter. But she knew as well as Virginia what effect Channing’s decision would have on Jedediah. Hysteria was indeed appropriate, under the circumstances. Virginia’s plan to elope seemed the only solution to her mother.
“Damn this war!” Melora cursed, in uncustomary fashion.
“What am I going to do, Mother?” Virginia begged.
“When and where are you supposed to meet Channing, dear?”
This question brought another wave of tears. Virginia could barely get her answer out. “He doesn’t know anything about this. It’s all my idea. I planned to ride to Belle Grove and insist that we go to the parsonage in Winchester to be married this very night.”
Melora narrowed her eyes, thinking through Virginia’s plan. “It just might work. Yes! Get that satchel closed, Virginia. I’ll go down and tell Styx to hitch up the trap. He can drive you over. I’ll write a note to Channing myself. Surely, he’ll go along with this, if he knows you have my blessing.”
Virginia felt such a sudden burst of elation that she could hardly contain herself. She almost swooned with joy. She kissed her mother’s cheek and then her dainty hands.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you! I could never have managed this alone.”
“That’s why girls have mothers. Now, do hurry, Virginia! I’ll go down and find Styx. Meet us out ba
ck as quickly as you can.” At the door, she turned back and smiled. “No more tears now. It’s your wedding day. Smile for me.”
Suddenly, Virginia was so happy that the feeling almost frightened her. The plan seemed so easy—ride to Belle Grove, get Channing, go to Winchester, be married. No muss, no fuss, no waste of time. In only hours, she would be his wife. Still, a dark cloud of doubt loomed at the edge of her consciousness. Would Channing consent to tricking her father this way?
She refused to think such worrisome thoughts, as she hurried down the back stairs, suitcase in hand. Sure enough, she found old Styx, their driver, ready and waiting. Her mother was there, too. She pressed a folded sheet of vellum into her daughter’s hand, kissed her, and said, “See that Channing gets this. Good luck, my darling.”
A sudden feeling of loss swept over Virginia. “Oh, Mother, I wish you could be there when we’re married.”
“So do I, dear. But I’ll have to stay here so I can make an excuse for your absence.” She looked sternly at her daughter. “Do this quickly, Virginia. There’s not much time. We’re in luck that your father and the boys are late coming home from their drill this evening.”
Styx touched up the horses and they were off. Melora Swan stood waving after her daughter. Now the tears were in her eyes. She had looked forward all Virginia’s life to seeing her wed in a lovely ceremony at Swan’s Quarter. A swift elopement into the night had never once crossed her mind as even the vaguest of possibilities.
“No matter,” she whispered, through a teary smile. “A wedding lasts only briefly, but love lasts a lifetime and beyond.”
Melora Swan had told Virginia that there wasn’t much time. There was less than either of them could have guessed. Even as Styx drove Virginia toward Belle Grove, the news spread about the county that Channing McNeal had come home.
Young Ludlow, Polly’s grandson, left Swan’s Quarter at a full trot, headed for the parade ground. His orders from Colonel Swan had been very clear. “You tell me, Ludlow, the minute Mr. Channing McNeal shows up. You hear me, boy?”
Over a week ago, Ludlow’s master had sent the overseer to pull him out of the field for a private chat. Ludlow had been trembling right down to the horn-hard soles of his big, bare feet. He had figured for sure that Massa Swan had got wind of his fooling around with Celie, the high-yeller housegal, who had been driving him crazy. He wanted her so bad. Colonel Swan had strict rules about his people. When they paired off, he did the pairing. At Swan’s Quarter, there wasn’t supposed to be any rolling in the hayloft or dropping down between the tobacco rows for a quick wick-dipping. Ludlow and Celie had broken that rule just a week ago in a back stall of the barn, late one stormy night. It had been good—mighty good—but Ludlow had to wonder, when he got Colonel Swan’s summons, if it had been worth the punishment that was sure to come.
Looking sharply at the fifteen-year-old, who was as black as night but, amazingly to his master, as smart as any white boy, Swan had said, “Now, you listen good, Ludlow.”
The boy had held his breath, waiting for the pronouncement of his punishment, sure of a whipping or worse.
But Colonel Swan had surprised him. “I have a special assignment for you, Ludlow. From now till Mister Channing rides home, you stay close to the house and watch for him. You let me know soon as he rides up. I’ll tell Polly to give you chores to do for her around the kitchen, while you keep a sharp eye out.”
For a minute or two, Ludlow had been so relieved that he went weak in the knees. That lasted only until Colonel Swan added, “I hear you got a powerful hankering for that gal, Celie.” Hearing that, Ludlow’s knees had gone even weaker for another reason. Maybe he was bound to get that whipping yet.
Seeing the wild look of fear in the boy’s eyes, Colonel Swan had laughed and added, “You get me word soon as you see Mister Channing, and I’ll see about getting you and Celie together. She’s old enough now to start dropping suckers, and you look man enough to do the job.”
Still trembling with the aftershock of terror, Ludlow had nodded solemnly and said, “Yessuh, Colonel Swan. I sure will let you know soon as Mister Channing McNeal rides onto the place.”
Sure enough, Ludlow had kept a sharp eye peeled. He had been the first one to spot Channing, as he rode past the swan pond that afternoon. With only a quick word to Polly, he had taken off, running as fast as he could toward the parade ground five miles away to deliver his message to the colonel.
When Jedediah Swan saw Ludlow loping toward him, waving his arms frantically over his head, the colonel shouted an order to put a halt to the drill.
“You’ve got news, Ludlow?”
The boy stumbled up to the colonel’s horse, shuddering with fatigue from his long run. “He come!” Ludlow gasped, gulping for breath. “He done come not a hour ago, Colonel Swan. He be with Miss Virginia right now.”
Swan turned to his men and yelled, “McNeal’s arrived! We’re off to war, men!”
A great Rebel yell filled the still afternoon. Hats flew into the air. Horses reared. And someone broke into a spirited rendition of “Dixie.”
Colonel Swan leaned down from his great, black stallion and winked at Ludlow. “You go on back to the place now, boy. Tonight, after supper, you amble on over to Celie’s ma’s cabin. I reckon your girl’ll be waiting for you, all primed and ready.”
Ludlow grinned real wide and danced from one bare foot to the other in his excitement If he could get a youngun’ on Celie, Colonel Swan would give them their own cabin with enough ground for a garden and a few chickens. What they didn’t eat, he could sell and start putting away some cash. Maybe someday, he could buy Celie’s freedom and then his own.
“Come on, boys!” Swan shouted. “Let’s ride!”
Ludlow hot-footed it back to Swan’s Quarter, arriving just in time to see Styx helping Miss Virginia with her suitcase, while Miz Swan looked on. He hung back in the shadows to find out what was going on. What he heard made his eyes go wide. This bit of information wasn’t likely to please the colonel, but it had to be told, if he wanted his Celie.
Virginia instructed Styx to drive her around to the back of Belle Grove. She needed to speak to Channing privately. If she went in the front way, the whole family would surround them, wanting to talk about wedding plans and such. Her only hope was to send Styx to the back door to request of one of the McNeal servants that Channing step outside to meet a visitor.
The plan worked. Minutes later, Virginia was in Channing’s arms, their embrace shielded by a large, sweet shrub bush.
“This is a quite a surprise,” Channing whispered, between kisses. “I’d meant to ride over to see you later this evening.”
She stared up at him, her face set in serious lines. “You weren’t really planning to come see me, were you, Channing? You were planning to see my father. You meant to tell him about joining the Yankees, didn’t you?”
He shifted her in his arms and looked away, out over the fields. “Virginia, I have to tell him sometime. The longer I wait, the worse it will be for both of us. Best to get it over with, then deal with the consequences.”
“No!” Virginia cried. “There’s another way.”
“Then I wish you’d tell me. I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out a solution. I talked to my father. He even suggested we go to France with them.”
“France?”
Channing nodded. “Hester and Auguste plan to be married in Paris. The rest of the family is going, too. They mean to stay in France for the duration of the war.”
“But you didn’t agree to go?”
“Virginia, darling, you know I couldn’t. I’d never be able to live with myself, if I ran away.”
This remark worried her. Would Channing see an elopement as another form of running away from his problems? She had to know. Their time was running out.
“Channing, listen to me. I understand why you can’t go to France, why you must stay and fight. But I can’t get through the war, l
oving you as I do, yet having to wait for you to come back to marry me.”
“You know I love you, too, darling. But what can I say, Virginia? What can I do?”
“Marry me,” she said firmly. “This very night. Styx can drive us to the parsonage in Winchester. By the time our families find out, it will be too late for them to do anything about it.”
“Tonight?”
“This very minute! We have Mother’s blessing.” She pressed Melora’s note into his hand. “She sent you this.”
Channing squinted at the words in the half-light guttering from a lantern near the kitchen door. “‘Channing, my dear son,’” he read aloud, “‘I have sent my daughter into your arms and your safekeeping. I know you love her with all your heart. I also know that you will soon be going away. Please, do as Virginia and I both wish. Go to Winchester with my blessing. Give Virginia what little time you have left. War is but a passing condition. Love is forever.”
For a moment, he stood, still and quiet, staring at Melora Swan’s note.
When Virginia could stand the silence no longer, she demanded, “Well? What do you think of my plan?”
She held her breath, until she saw a slow smile part his lips.
He crushed Virginia in his arms. “Yes!” he breathed. “Oh, yes, my darling! It’s a fine plan.”
Virginia uttered a cry of sheer joy. “I can’t believe it! It’s too good to be true!”
They hurried to the trap. “To Winchester, Styx!” Channing ordered.
Virginia felt positively giddy. They rolled down the lane at a good clip. No one and nothing could stop them now. Soon Channing would be all hers, at last.
Channing laughed suddenly and squeezed her about the waist “I feel like a kid, darlin’, setting out on a marvelous adventure.”
“The grandest adventure of our lives,” she whispered.
And then she was in his arms, feeling his insistent lips close over hers. Her heart pounded with joy and a touch of fear. Oh, how she burned for him!
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