He watched as she lifted the book, opened the cover and turned a page. He was so mesmerized that he barely heard the words Cameron read to him. She appeared so angelic lying in bed in her sleeping gown. Years seemed to have fallen away from her face, a face he could have fallen in love with all over again.
How could he ever have thought that Marie could hold a candle to Cameron? he mused, a tightness spreading in his chest.
“It is as if my eyes have opened for the very first time. The scales have fallen away,” Cameron read slowly. “She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, with skin the color of rich cocoa and eyes of polished alabaster.” She lifted her gaze to look over the top of the book at him. “So far, he’s barely spoken a word to Sukey. David Campbell shy. Can you imagine?”
She gave a little laugh that, instead of pleasing him, made his heart ache. Cameron had the most beautiful laugh, so full of life and all its possibilities. A laugh she could have shared with their child if he had not been such an idiot.
Jackson stared at the floor.
Cameron closed the diary and hugged it to her chest. “Don’t you want to sit down?” she asked hesitantly. “A chair?” She brushed her hand across the coverlet. “Here on the bed?”
He shook his head. “No. No, thank you. You should rest.”
“I’m already bored with resting.”
“I just wanted to tell you that we’ll be staying here in Jackson.” He did not look at her for her reaction. “I own several businesses in town—bought during the war—that could use my attention. Also, some property between here and Vicksburg.” He didn’t tell her that from here it would be easier for him to track down Thompson’s Raiders, especially if they were in the Birmingham area. There was no need to worry her, especially when this would be his last assignment for the State Department.
“What of your ships in Baltimore?” Cameron asked. “I thought you needed to be there.”
“Josiah is quite capable, probably more capable than I am. I’ll have to go to Alabama, then return to Baltimore to make the arrangements sometime in the next week, but then I’ll be back.” Damn! He sounded so formal. He might have been speaking to a casual acquaintance rather than the woman he loved…the woman who had once loved him.
He dared to glance at her. She was nodding, but she didn’t lift her head to meet his gaze.
“I also wanted to tell you—” He cleared his throat, staring at the white bed coverlet. “A Mr. Jasper is willing to meet with you as soon as you’re up to it. He’s an architect who can help you make plans for rebuilding what was lost at Elmwood. Not only can he draw plans, but I understand he is an expert in structural integrity. If any of the walls or the roof need additional stability, he can tell you.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
His gaze strayed to the open window. The drapes had been drawn back to let in the bright sunshine, the panes lifted so that the warm, humid breeze drifted through the chamber. He wondered how it could be so bright and cheery in the room and he could feel so cold and disheartened.
Jackson stuffed his hands into his pockets again. “I should go. Rest, and I’ll speak with you this evening.”
A lump rose in Cameron’s throat as she watched Jackson retreat from their bedchamber. She had waited most of the day for him to arrive, had even considered sending Patsy to fetch him. And at last when he had come to her, he had acted like a polite, detached stranger. He hadn’t even mentioned the baby.
She hugged her father’s diary to her chest and bit back a sob as he closed the door behind him, leaving her alone. She didn’t know if she wanted to lay her head down and cry or chase him down the hall barefoot, in her bedclothes, and hit him with something.
She knew he blamed her for the miscarriage. Why else would he not meet her gaze?
“I’m sorry, Jackson,” she whispered as tears slipped down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
“Jackson, I need to speak with you,” Taye said, approaching him near the barn. He stood at a white-painted fence, leaning over it, his forearms resting on the top rail. He had shed his coat and cravat and opened his shirt, looking more like the stable hand in the center ring than the famous war hero he was.
He turned to her. The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon, casting a shadowed light over his worried face. Taye knew how upset he was over the loss of the baby. She just hoped he and Cameron would be able to get through this and allow the unfortunate event to strengthen their marriage rather than weaken it.
“I need to return to Baltimore. Right away,” Taye told him, gazing into his eyes with utter determination. “I need to…see Thomas.”
“Is something wrong?” He came off the fence.
“No, of course not.” She pressed her lips together and clasped her hands. “It’s just that I left without being truthful about where I was going and I need to make amends.” It wasn’t really a lie. She did need to make amends with Thomas. There was no need for Jackson to know that she also needed to go to remind herself of who she was—and to get away from Falcon. “And that was wrong of me,” she continued. “I want to tell him how sorry I am.”
And she was sorry. Just as sorry as she was for kissing Falcon the way she had last night. Inside, Taye trembled. She was so confused. For the last four years all she had thought about was being with Thomas. Seeing him again. Marrying him. And now that they had been reunited, nothing seemed like she had thought it would be. Things were not as they had been four years ago when they had stood in the moonlight on the deck of Jackson’s boat and held hands. The feelings just weren’t the same.
Taye’s first thought was that it must be Thomas. Thomas was different than she remembered him. That was it. That was what was wrong. But if she was honest with herself, she had to admit he had not changed. He was still the same quiet, studious gentleman that he had been. It was she who had changed.
So this was all her fault, and it was up to her to right it. If she could just be with Thomas again, she knew she could fix things. The kiss last night with Falcon…it had been impulsive. It meant nothing. Taye had been tired and drained emotionally. She had been vulnerable, and that man had taken advantage of her.
“You needn’t go to Baltimore, Taye,” Jackson said.
“No, you don’t understand.” She twisted her hands. If she had to, she would go without Jackson’s approval. “I—”
“He’s coming here. Possibly already on his way.”
“Coming here? Coming for me?”
“Well, to see you, of course. And you knew he was considering reopening his father’s offices here in town. We—Cameron and I will be staying a while and I assumed you would want to stay with her. I sent a telegram to Thomas this morning suggesting he join us and begin work on the offices. From what I hear in town, people are desperate for good legal advice right now. This place could use a good lawyer like Thomas.”
“So he’s coming here,” she said softly.
“I’m sorry, Taye, about the big engagement ball we promised you back in Baltimore, but given the circumstances, I think we need to remain here in Jackson. Cameron needs time to heal and I think Elmwood would be the best balm. I hope you’ll understand.”
“No, no,” Taye said with relief. “It’s quite all right.” Truthfully, the thought of a great public announcement of her and Thomas’s engagement frightened her.
Taye reached out to brush a leaf from Jackson’s shoulder. Thoughts of herself faded as she studied his handsome face etched with lines of sadness. “It’s good of you to change your mind about staying. I understand your position, but being here might very well be what Cameron needs to recover.”
“Whatever makes her happy,” he said walking away. “Anything.”
Cameron remained in bed for four days and on the fifth, rose at her usual time, had tea in her room and dressed, with Patsy’s help. Cameron had not slept well the previous night. She had spent hours staring at the painted tin ceiling, replaying, in her mind, every argument with Jackson si
nce his return home.
He had asked her to slow down. He had wanted her to stop acting like the young restless woman she had once been and more like the married matron she was supposed to be. Cameron didn’t blame herself for the miscarriage—what Naomi said made sense—but Cameron knew that Jackson wouldn’t understand. She knew he blamed her. Why else would he have taken so long to come to her after she lost the baby? Why else had he not met her gaze a single time when he had finally come to their bedchamber? Why else had he not only not touched her, but never even mentioned the baby?
Cameron gazed at herself in the mirror and pinched her cheeks for color. She didn’t know what to do about Jackson. Should she confront him? Shout at him that the miscarriage wasn’t her fault and that no one was to blame? Should she tell him there would be other babies? Or did she just let him be for a while?
Since Jackson’s return from the war, she had dealt with her husband by aggressively confronting him with her concerns. It hadn’t worked. Look what had happened when she asked him about those rumors of another woman. It had only put them at odds and driven a wedge between them. Maybe if she backed off, he would come around. Maybe if she gave him some time to think, he would realize that she’d wanted this baby as much as he had. That this wasn’t her fault.
In the meantime, she would concentrate on Elmwood. Just the thought of restoring her ancestral home made the ache of losing the baby a little easier to bear. As she crossed the room to go, she fought against the fear that Jackson would not come around as she hoped. That he would truly seek solace in another woman. In that other woman. She was afraid that what she had said to Taye, about their marriage not working out, might be true. But Cameron simply wouldn’t think about that possibility right now. She had her father’s diary to comfort her. She had an architect to meet with this afternoon at Elmwood to keep her occupied. Somehow she would get through the day.
“Jackson has set up an account in several of the shops in town.” Taye spoke to Naomi as she climbed out of the carriage with the aid of a hired man from Atkins’ Way whom Jackson had sent to escort them into town. “He says he wants to support as many businesses as possible, so feel free to buy whatever the household needs. Any large items, you can have delivered.”
Naomi, dressed brightly in a yellow-and-gold skirt and a blue bodice, her hair tied in a multicolored turban, nodded. Once Jackson made the decision that he and Cameron would remain in Mississippi, Naomi had taken over as housekeeper and was already directing the servants and whipping the home into shape. “You want I should meet you at the train station?” Naomi asked.
Taye opened her blue parasol that would protect her from the beating sun. The pale blue fringe on it matched the fringe on her day gown and her cap. Cameron had called the little French cap beguiling on her. Taye hoped Thomas would think so. “Yes. Jackson said that Thomas’s train is due at three. Noah and several servants from the Baltimore house have accompanied him.”
Naomi grinned, baring perfect white teeth. “Can’t wait to see my man,” she said huskily. “Ya don’t realize how much ya miss a man until you’re parted from him.”
Taye smiled. She was anxious to see Thomas, too, but she feared her feelings didn’t match Naomi’s. Taye wanted to see Thomas so that they could begin their relationship anew. She wanted to concentrate on their plans for the future. She would have preferred to have returned to Baltimore to distance herself from Falcon and whatever foolish attraction she had for him, but if Thomas had decided to return to his father’s law office, Taye certainly couldn’t protest. He had made it clear from the beginning that returning to Mississippi was a possibility.
“I’ll see you at three then,” Taye said, lifting her pale yellow petticoats to step over a mud puddle.
Naomi grabbed a soft-sided basket from the carriage floor, which she would use to hold her purchases. “Where you goin’, Taye?”
“I thought I would look at fabrics at Madeline’s old place, if she’s open. Most of the draperies at Elmwood will have to be replaced, and I promised Cameron I would see what I could find. I thought I’d ask around about some seamstresses, as well.”
Naomi waggled a finger at their escort, an ebony-skinned young man of fifteen or sixteen with large dark eyes and a metal ring in one ear. “You keep an eye on Miss Taye, Moses, you hear me? You carry any bags she got and you keep the filth off-en her.” She shook her head in disgust. “Got bad people roamin’ the streets these days. Hardly safe for decent folk, white or black.”
“Yes, Miss Naomi,” Moses said, obviously eager to please. Employment for a young, recently freed slave didn’t come easily, and Moses seemed to recognize what an opportunity he had, working for the Logan family. “I won’t let nothin’ happen to Miss Taye, I swear it on my mama’s grave.”
“Don’t be swearin’ on your mama’s grave.” Naomi slapped his face lightly with her palm and then fingered the gris-gris bag she always wore around her neck. “You let your mama rest in peace. Ya got to live up to yer own responsibilities, boy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded rhythmically. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
“And don’t be callin’ me ma’am, either. Ya call me Naomi.” She started down the wooden sidewalk. “And you need somethin’, you come to me.”
“Yes, ma—Naomi. Anything you say.”
Parting from Naomi at the carriage, Taye picked her way down the sidewalk, trying to avoid the rubbish that still blocked the street in places. As she walked, she couldn’t help but notice the stares she was attracting. White and black faces alike gawked at her, and for an instant she wondered if her gown had come unbuttoned or something equally embarrassing was taking place.
Then it occurred to her, in sudden shock, why they were staring. Before the war, everyone had known Senator David Campbell, known that Taye was his housekeeper’s mulatto daughter, to be treated with the same respect due his daughter. But the people on the street were strangers.
These people—shopkeepers in their doorways, freed slaves wandering the street—were all wondering why a young dark-skinned woman like herself was dressed so grandly. They were wondering just how she had reached such a position so quickly. They were immediately distrustful of her.
It had never been like this in the North, but as she walked down the street she began to remember what it had been like to live here in Jackson. No one had dared speak ill of her for fear of the senator’s wrath, but she had never been considered a lady of Mississippi society, as Cameron had been. She had never been anything but the senator’s little mulatto curiosity.
Taye spotted Madeline’s and sighed with relief at the sight of the signpost announcing that the shop was open. Taye slipped inside, a bell ringing overhead, and was pleased to spot Mrs. Madeline Portray at once.
“Mrs. Portray,” Taye called, waving a gloved hand.
For a moment, the middle-aged woman stared at Taye without recognition.
“It’s Taye,” Taye announced. “Taye Campbell from Elmwood.”
The older woman’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my, so it is. So it is.” She rushed over in a bustle of crisp petticoats. “It is so good to see you, my dear. We had heard at the very beginning of the war from, oh, I don’t know whom—” she fluttered a thick, short-fingered hand “—that the senator had laid claim to you on his deathbed.”
It wasn’t exactly how it had happened. The senator’s death had been…sudden. It hadn’t been until months later that Taye and Cameron discovered that she was also David’s daughter. But Taye saw no need to explain it all to the shopkeeper. What mattered was that she be recognized for who she was, a Campbell, just like Cameron.
“Is Miss Cameron here, as well?” Mrs. Portray questioned.
“She is. We’ve come back to Elmwood, at least for the time being. Cameron hopes to restore her.”
“We heard she married that dashing Captain Logan.” Her bushy brows furrowed as her plump, rosy cheeks expanded. “My goodness, he wasn’t killed in the war, was he? I lost three sons you know, an
d Mr. Portray lost his left leg to gangrene.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Mrs. Portray. No, the captain was not killed in the war. He’s here in Jackson. He’s purchased the old Atkins place. That’s where we’re staying, at least for the present.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that some of the county’s finest families are beginning to return.” Mrs. Portray’s gaze wandered as she spoke and Taye glanced over her shoulder to see what she was looking at.
There was a young black woman with her back to the two of them, touching something on a counter.
The shopkeeper’s brows shot up. “Ever since I hung my shutter again, I have had a terrible time with these coloreds stealing from me,” she whispered harshly beneath her breath. “They’ll rob me out of house and home if I don’t keep an eye on them. If you’ll excuse me…” She hustled up the aisle, her slippers tapping on the wooden floor.
“May I help you, miss?” Mrs. Portray asked haughtily.
“No. I just want to pick out some buttons,” the young woman in a battered, lavender-plumed hat answered. She was dressed better than most of the negro women Taye had seen on the street, but her clothing was obviously well-worn and most likely secondhand. Her dress was inches shorter in the back than it should have been, and the bodice was so tight that her dark, round breasts rose high on her chest, revealing far more bare skin than was appropriate for midday.
“Picking out some buttons to purchase or to steal?” Mrs. Portray harrumphed.
The woman turned to face the shopkeeper and Taye stared at her. For a moment she studied the round face, trying to place it. “Efia?”
The girl looked up. She had a pretty face, colored by rouge on her lips. She also had the shading of a black eye on her right cheek.
“Miss Taye?” the girl cried out in astonishment.
Taye rushed forward. “Efia, I can’t believe it’s truly you!”
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