Tracie Peterson & Judith Miller - [Lights of Lowell 01]

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by A Tapestry of Hope


  Jasmine could see her possibilities for a trip slip away with each turn of her father’s reasoning. ‘‘She may truly be ill, Papa. Mr.

  Houston mentioned the fact that he hasn’t seen her at any of the recent social functions he’s attended in Lowell.’’

  Malcolm turned toward Jasmine, his eyebrows arched into twin mountain peaks. ‘‘Mr. Houston? You’re corresponding with him also?’’

  Her father’s scrutiny caused her cheeks to grow even warmer.

  ‘‘I’ve merely replied to his letter. I didn’t think you would disapprove. Before Mr. Houston departed The Willows, he begged me to reply if he should write to me. I finally agreed, although I had little interest in corresponding with him. I’ve received only one letter.’’

  ‘‘It’s not that I disapprove. I’m merely surprised. He didn’t mention your grandmother’s illness when he wrote me. What exactly did Bradley say? Bradley is the Mr. Houston you’re referring to, is he not?’’

  ‘‘Yes, Papa. He merely said what I’ve already told you. He said he had made it a priority to make Grandmother’s acquaintance upon his return home. In fact, he called on her only three days after returning to Lowell. He went on to mention that she hasn’t been present at recent social functions.’’

  ‘‘I don’t think his comment is indicative of anything worrisome. They simply may not be invited to the same social events,’’ Samuel concluded.

  ‘‘But what if she is dying and you ignore her plea? How could you ever live with such a decision?’’ Madelaine argued, much to Jasmine’s surprise.

  ‘‘So you think I should immediately heed to her bidding?’’

  Malcolm asked.

  ‘‘I think you should give serious consideration to making the journey,’’ Madelaine replied. ‘‘I could hardly live with myself if something were to happen and you missed being in her attendance because of my poor constitution.’’

  Malcolm rose from the sofa and prowled about the room like a cat searching for the perfect place to curl and rest. ‘‘And who would run The Willows during such a long absence? Leaving at this time of year isn’t wise. What if we couldn’t return in time for the first picking? I’ve never been gone from the plantation during any part of picking season.’’

  ‘‘Really, Malcolm! Only a few minutes ago you were attempting to persuade me to travel to White Sulphur Springs.’’

  ‘‘That is not even close to the same thing. We could certainly return home from there before first picking. A journey to Massachusetts will take much longer. And it’s already late June.’’

  ‘‘What about the three of us?’’ Samuel asked. ‘‘Do we not assist in the management of the plantation? Surely we could tend to matters while you’re gone.’’

  ‘‘Absolutely,’’ McKinley said while David nodded his agreement.

  Madelaine graced her husband with a winsome smile. ‘‘You see, you have already resolved that issue. And if a problem of consequence should arise during your absence, your brothers would be close at hand to lend assistance. After all, with adjoining plantations— Harry on one side and Franklin on the other—there would be scant possibility of the boys needing any further support.’’

  ‘‘Could it be that you would consider making the journey with us?’’ Malcolm inquired, a hint of expectation lacing his question.

  ‘‘You know my affliction makes travel impossible. I’m merely pointing out that I would not be averse to you and Jasmine making the journey. After all, there are few plantation owners who would find themselves in such excellent circumstances if they needed to be away for a substantial period of time. We both know that many of the plantation owners leave for the entire summer with no one other than an overseer in charge.’’

  ‘‘Well, they can manage their businesses as they see fit, but I’ll not leave my plantation to the hands of an overseer for months on end. Even with my sons and brothers to take charge, I’ve no intent on being gone for a substantial period of time. If I agree to travel north, I will make every effort to return prior to harvest. It’s difficult enough to consider leaving the boys in charge at this time; much more so during picking season.’’

  ‘‘I understand your concerns, Malcolm, but you will give the journey consideration, won’t you? It causes me great distress to think of your mother alone and ailing.’’

  ‘‘I’ll give the matter thought. If you would agree to accompany us, I would be willing to make immediate preparations. You know I’d go to almost any length to get you away from The Willows for a short time. It distresses me that you continue to seek refuge within the walls of this house, my dear. It’s not healthy.’’

  Jasmine immediately took up her father’s argument. ‘‘Oh, do say you’ll come, Mother.’’

  Madelaine dropped her gaze toward her lap and began picking at the lace edging on her linen handkerchief. ‘‘I couldn’t possibly travel to Massachusetts. And I do go outdoors—every day. I love tending the flowers in my gardens. Truly, my desire to remain at The Willows is not harmful to my well-being in the least. Please don’t make my unwillingness to accompany you a factor in your decision. And if you want to be back in time for harvest, you must leave immediately.’’

  Malcolm nodded. ‘‘I’ll ride over and talk to Harry and Franklin tomorrow. Hopefully they’ll be able to shed some light on Mother’s possible ailments—or at least add their thoughts as to the obvious ambiguity of her letter.’’

  ‘‘And you’ll ask if they’ll assist with the plantation should you decide to journey to Massachusetts?’’

  ‘‘Yes, dear. I’ll discuss that matter also, but Jasmine need not begin packing her trunks just yet,’’ he warned.

  ‘‘Of course not, Papa,’’ Jasmine agreed. She was barely able to repress the delighted giggle bubbling in her throat. Though difficult to believe, it certainly appeared as if her father would relent.

  If Uncle Harry were reasonably convinced Papa should make the journey, there was no doubt Uncle Franklin would agree also.

  Samuel folded his arms and took a serious stance. ‘‘Should you decide to go visit Grandmother, I hope you will give me the opportunity to actually manage the plantation. It truly isn’t necessary for Uncle Harry or Uncle Franklin to spend time at The Willows. David and I can manage the slaves, and McKinley already maintains the books and accounts for you. Should there be any sort of trouble, you know I would immediately send for one of them.’’

  ‘‘I’m sure you would, Samuel. However, I want to speak with my brothers before making a final decision about any of this,’’ Malcolm replied.

  ‘‘May I please be excused?’’ Jasmine inquired softly. ‘‘This heat has caused me to feel faint, and I’d like to go to my room and lie down.’’ It wasn’t exactly a lie, but truth be told, she wanted to think out her plans for the upcoming trip. Despite what her father said about not packing her trunks, Jasmine felt confident the journey would take place.

  ‘‘By all means,’’ her mother replied. ‘‘I’ll send Tobias to fetch you when supper’s ready.’’

  Mammy was busy mending a cotton chemise when Jasmine reached her bedroom. ‘‘What you doin’ back up here so soon, chile? You feelin’ poorly?’’

  Jasmine twirled around the room and finally fell upon the bed.

  ‘‘Oh, Mammy, I think I’m going to get to go to Massachusetts and see Grandmother!’’ she exclaimed. Rising up to a sitting position, she clasped her hands together. ‘‘Won’t that be wonderful?’’

  ‘‘Um hum. It surely would be fine. I knows how much yo’ grandma loves you.’’

  ‘‘And how much I love her,’’ Jasmine added. ‘‘It’s been so lonely since she left The Willows.’’

  Mammy nodded her head up and down as she continued jabbing her needle in and out of the white fabric. ‘‘Now tell me, when your pappy gonna take you north?’’

  ‘‘Well, it’s not absolutely positive yet, but he said he was going to talk to Uncle Franklin and Uncle Harry tomorrow. If they agree that it wo
uld be wise for Papa to go and check on Grandmother’s health and say they’ll help supervise the work here at The Willows, I think we will leave very soon.’’

  The old woman smiled, and her white teeth shone like a fine row of ivory piano keys. ‘‘What your mama think ’bout all this?’’

  ‘‘She encouraged us to make the journey. All I did was show Papa the letter, and Mama immediately took up the case. It was so perfect, Mammy.’’

  ‘‘Well, I surely will miss you, chile,’’ Mammy replied.

  ‘‘And I’ll miss you too, but I’m certain it’s going to be a grand adventure, Mammy.’’

  CHAPTER • 4

  BRADLEY CARRIED the letter into his library, seated himself, and carefully opened the missive, excited to read the contents. He had anxiously checked the mail each day, eager to see if Jasmine would reply. He had begun his letter to her while he and Nolan were still on board ship returning home from their visit to The Willows, but he waited to mail it. He knew the girl would want to hear word of her grandmother. He hoped to woo her in a slow yet deliberate fashion. She was young for him, a closer match in age for Nolan, but she would fit perfectly into his own plans. Besides, women were more easily controlled if they married at a young age—before they developed a mind of their own. The fact that Jasmine was beautiful had been a pleasant surprise, but he also realized her beauty might prove an additional challenge in winning her hand. With that thought at the forefront of his mind, he had also been corresponding with Malcolm Wainwright. Once he had Malcolm as an ally, achieving his plan to marry Jasmine should prove uncomplicated.

  A knock sounded, and the front door opened as Bradley finished reading the letter. ‘‘Bradley?’’

  ‘‘Nolan! I wasn’t expecting you in Lowell. What brings you here?’’

  ‘‘Nathan Appleton convinced Henry and Fanny to accompany him to Lowell for a meeting of the Associates this evening. Since Nathan plans to stay in Lowell for several days, Henry thought I should join them and we could take a canal boat and reminisce about the leisurely summers that have long since passed.’’

  ‘‘Henry Longfellow remains the constant romantic. I can’t imagine how Nathan, the ever-vigilant businessman, abides a son-in-law with no business acumen whatsoever,’’ Bradley said.

  ‘‘He seems quite fond of Henry—perhaps because his daughter is so obviously happy in her marriage to him. I thought we might have supper together before your meeting with the Associates.’’

  ‘‘I’d like that. We’ll have sufficient time to dine at the Merri-mack House if we leave now. I can go on to my meeting from there.’’

  Once they were seated at a small table in the Merrimack House restaurant, Nolan said, ‘‘Nathan mentioned you’re planning to buy the Hinch estate. Is that true?’’

  ‘‘Word does travel quickly, doesn’t it? I’ve made an offer to Hinch’s widow. She’s anxious to rid herself of the place, and I’d like a home that has some acreage surrounding it. It’s become more and more difficult to find such a place, and even though it’s a short distance from Lowell, I believe it would serve my needs very well.’’

  ‘‘Serve your needs? That place is huge, Bradley. Why would a man with only one servant want to live—’’ Nolan stopped mid-sentence and stared at his brother. ‘‘Are you planning to wed in the near future?’’

  Bradley cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. ‘‘It is my hope, but I don’t know if my proposal will actually be accepted. I hesitate even to discuss the matter for fear she’ll reject me and the whole of Massachusetts will know I’ve been turned away.’’

  ‘‘You can confide in me, brother. Ever since Nathan made mention of the matter, I’ve been attempting to determine if a woman might well be involved, and if so, who the woman might be. I’m thinking she’s likely someone I haven’t met. I promise I’ll not breathe a word to any of the local gossips,’’ Nolan said with a genial laugh.

  ‘‘Actually, you have met her. When the time is right, I’m planning to ask for the hand of Jasmine Wainwright.’’

  Nolan’s brows furrowed as he placed his coffee cup on the white china saucer. ‘‘You jest!’’

  ‘‘No. I found her appealing.’’

  Nolan leaned back in his chair and gazed at his brother, his eyes narrowed to thin slits. ‘‘Was it Jasmine you found appealing or her father’s cotton plantation?’’

  ‘‘You believe me to have an ulterior motive?’’

  ‘‘Have you ever done anything in your life without an ulterior motive?’’ Nolan asked wryly. ‘‘I observed your enthusiastic efforts to impress the Wainwright family. You utilized every available moment to your advantage, plying them with the benefits of selling their cotton to you rather than shipping their crops to England.’’

  Bradley fingered his thinning hair and met his brother’s accusations with an unwavering gaze. ‘‘A marriage that combines both love and business is a match most men long for, Nolan. At least those of us who aren’t enmeshed in your world of poetry and literature and must actually perform productive work.’’

  ‘‘Ah, Bradley, you know that power and control are your aspirations in life. You would never choose to live in the literary world. Competition and power are your aphrodisiacs, not music and poetry. However, I, too, was drawn to Jasmine. She seemed a sweet girl—sheltered from the outside by her family. How do you propose to win her hand? Better still, how do you plan to fit her into your ambitious world?’’

  ‘‘Truly you can be a bother,’’ Bradley said, shaking his head.

  ‘‘How often does the average wife fit into the ambitions of her husband’s world? Women are necessary for the procreation of the race. A man wants a son to carry his name—to take the helm of the empire he builds as a legacy.’’

  ‘‘Have you talked with her father?’’

  ‘‘I’ve been communicating with both Jasmine and her father.

  In fact, I had a letter from Jasmine today telling me that she and her father are coming to Lowell for a visit with her grandmother.

  From the content of her letter, I doubt it was mailed much before they sailed. I’m guessing they’ll arrive any day. I plan to speak with her father while they’re in Lowell. If things go well, the marriage could take place when we go south for the harvest.’’

  Nolan shook his head back and forth. ‘‘I can’t believe you’ve plotted out this entire scheme. Have you considered her youth and the fact that she’d prefer a marriage based upon affection? Doubtless, in the beginning, she’ll mistake your attention for love and later be disappointed. Surely you can barter an arrangement for the cotton without compromising the future of a young girl.’’

  ‘‘Just like your friends, you think there are idyllic solutions to all of life’s situations. Well, dear brother, that occurs only in your make-believe world of poetry and prose. Should Malcolm agree to the marriage, and I think he will, rest assured that I will treat Jasmine well.’’

  ‘‘You’ll treat her well so long as she adheres to your parameters,’’ Nolan said.

  Bradley arched his eyebrows. ‘‘Rules are made to be followed.

  As you’ve pointed out, she’s young and will need guidance in what is expected of a proper wife. However, I’m confident that her mother has probably already seen to much of her training. You have to understand that in the South, especially among genteel families such as the Wainwrights, daughters are brought into the world with no other purpose but to make a prosperous match.

  Marriage to me would prosper that family in more ways than I can illuminate for you at this moment. Once she realizes how this match will benefit her, Jasmine Wainwright will be happy and content.’’ Bradley pulled his watch from his vest pocket and glanced at the time. ‘‘Though I’m completely enjoying our conversation, I really must be on my way. The meeting tonight is important and I dare not be tardy. The Associates are considering me as their primary buyer. I’ll present my proposal for expansion this evening. We can discuss this matter further tomorrow and perh
aps have supper at that time as well.’’

  Bradley leaned against the stone fireplace and surveyed the room, hoping to exude an air of confidence. He nodded to James Morgan and Leonard Montrose when they entered the doorway and then shifted his full attention to Nathan Appleton and Matthew Cheever. His fingers tapped nervously along the highly polished wood of the mahogany mantel as he waited for the meeting to commence. There was little doubt the members of the Boston Associates would follow the lead of Appleton and Cheever this evening. Consequently, Bradley knew he must impress them above all the others.

  Leonard Montrose approached, blocking Bradley’s view of the two men. ‘‘For someone who’s hoping for a prestigious appointment this evening, you’re looking rather grim, Bradley.’’

  Bradley repositioned himself alongside Leonard, now able to once again observe Nathan Appleton. ‘‘I’m not certain the matter will come to a vote tonight, but if it does, I hope I can count on your support.’’

  ‘‘I’ll go along with them.’’ Leonard tipped his head toward Matthew and Nathan. ‘‘If they want you, so do the rest of us. It’s the way of things around here these days. With Tracy Jackson ailing, Matthew and Nathan seem to carry most of the control. I trust them to know what’s best for the Corporation.’’

  Bradley took a deep draw on his cigar and blew a funnel of gray smoke toward the ceiling. ‘‘Then once I lay out my proposal, let’s hope they think I’m what’s best for the Associates.’’

  Leonard took a sip of port and looked around the room.

  ‘‘Thought maybe Tracy would be here tonight, but perhaps he’s unable to tolerate the late-night air. These business meetings always take longer than necessary,’’ he mused.

  Before Bradley could comment, Leonard waved to several men across the room. ‘‘Good luck on the proposal,’’ he absently remarked as he sauntered off.

 

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