Wilde, Jennifer

by Love's Tender Fury

  "He won't want me. Not after I told him to go."

  "Don't be absurd!" I snapped. "I'll tell him to be waiting in the gazebo at one o'clock in the morning. He'll be there. You'll leave together tonight."

  "If Helmut were to—"

  "Don't think about Helmut!" My voice was sharp. "Think about James. Think about your love for him and his for you. You'll go away together. You'll be married."

  "But James has no money. I haven't any, either. We— how will we live? How can we?"

  "I'll take care of that."

  Meg stood up, frail, nervous, the corners of her mouth quivering. She was badly frightened, but hope glowed in her eyes. She looked at me for a moment, and then, giving a little sob, rushed over to me, flinging herself into my arms. I held her tightly as the sobs racked her body. Feeling an overwhelming pity for this defenseless girl who had been so terribly victimized, I stroked her hair and tried to comfort her. When her sobs began to subside, I eased her away from me.

  "You must be strong, Meg. You must be very strong."

  "Helmut will expect me to come down for dinner. I couldn't possibly face him. He—he'd know immediately. I wouldn't be able to hide—"

  "You need never lay eyes on him again," I said firmly. Go to your room and pack a few things, and you can wait there until I come for you. I'll tell Helmut you've developed a headache and have gone to bed early. He may want to go to your room to check on you, but— somehow I'll prevent that. You must'nt worry. You must just do as I say."

  Meg nodded, on the verge of tears again. So, I took her up to her room and deposited her there with instructions to pack. Ten minutes later I was riding down the river road on the sleek gray mare, my skirts bunched up about my knees, my hair flying behind me. Anyone seeing me would have been scandalized, but that couldn't possibly concern me at this point, and there had been no time to hitch up a buggy. I dug my knees into the mare's flanks, urging her on, racing beneath oak trees and past fields of cotton, past slopes covered with orange and yellow wild-flowers. Dust swirled up behind me in thin tan clouds. The wind stung my face. The speed, the movement was a glorious release, an outlet for emotions I was determined to hold off as long as possible.

  Kirkwood's plantation was large. The house, a ramshackle two-story white frame badly in need of paint, was surrounded by giant oaks. Chickens wandered about the front yard pecking at the grass. They squawked angrily and flapped their wings as I rode past the house toward the quarters in back. A plump black woman in faded blue dress and red bandana was hanging wash on lines strung out beyond the slave quarters. Dismounting, I tied the reins to a post and asked the woman where I might find James Norman. Totally unruffled to find herself confronted with a disheveled, wind-blown white woman asking for the young overseer, she took another piece of wet wash from the large brown basket, draped it over the line, and pointed to a small, unpainted frame building on the edge of the fields.

  A shaggy rust-colored dog, asleep on the front porch, stirred lethargically as I knocked on the door. Norman opened it almost at once. His face was white, his dark eyes ablaze with emotion. Scowling, he asked me what I could possibly want and looked as though he wanted to throttle me.

  "I must talk to you," I said.

  "The woman I love has just called me a fool for loving her! I've just given up my job. I'm leaving Natchez first thing in the morning. I've no time to chat, Mrs. Schnieder."

  "May I come in?"

  "Come ahead!" he thundered.

  He led me inside and then, ignoring me, began pulling clothes out of a chest of drawers, carrying them over to a large, battered suitcase opened out on the bed. Shards of a broken blue pitcher glittered in a pool of water on the hardwood floor, wilting purple flowers scattered about them. I had the feeling he had hurled the pitcher against the wall only moments before. Cramming the clothes into the suitcase, he glared at me, brows lowered, jaw thrust out.

  "She's going with you," I said.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Meg is going to New Orleans with you."

  "She detests me! She told me I—"

  "Will you be quiet and listen to me!"

  James stared at me with his lips parted, his eyes full of confusion, and then those blazing fires of emotion died out abruptly. He looked worn and incredibly weary. Moving back over to the chest, he slowly pulled out a pile of shirts.

  "She sent me away," he said. "She made it quite clear that she never wanted to see me again. I'm leaving. It's the only thing left for me to do. I can't remain in Natchez. Four years I've waited, and now—"

  "She had her own reasons for sending you away. She— she was afraid of her brother and what he might do. But she realizes she can't live without you. She cried and cried, and then—then she begged me to help, begged me to come to see you."

  "Why didn't she—"

  I interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "Helmut told her that if she tried to see you he would do you bodily harm. That's why she lied to you this afternoon, why she sent you away. She was afraid for you. She thought she was—protecting you."

  His eyes began to smoulder again. "I'm not afraid of him! He can't dictate—"

  "Meg is afraid of him. That's the important thing. I made her see reason. I told her the two of you could elope, leave for New Orleans the first thing in the morning."

  "We should be able to marry freely and openly. We should be able to live right here in Natchez so that I could keep my job and—"

  I was exasperated and James, noticing my expression, cut himself short.

  "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

  "I want you to be waiting in the gazebo at one o'clock tonight. I'll bring Meg out to you. It—it must all be done in secrecy. Helmut mustn't know until you're already safely on the boat."

  He nodded curdy, and I told him that I had to get back immediately. He stepped outside with me. The dog thumped its tail on the wooden boards of the porch. I paused on the step, turning to look at him with serious eyes.

  "One more thing," I said. "You mustn't question her about anything. This has all been a great strain on her and —and she hasn't been well. You must concentrate on making her happy. Make her forget the past. Your future together is all that matters. Don't—don't ever mention her brother."

  "I understand," he replied grimly.

  He didn't, of course, but I was convinced he would heed my advice. I bade him goodbye and rode back to Roseclay. Leaving the horse in the stable, I walked wearily up to my room. I had Lelia prepare a bath for me, and I soaked in the hot, scented water for a long time, hoping it would help me to relax. It didn't. I was tense and edgy as I arranged my hair, for I knew that the most difficult part was yet to come. I must be cool and calm at dinner. I mustn't let Helmut suspect anything.

  I dressed with great care, selecting a deep yellow brocade embroidered all over with floral patterns in gold thread. It was an elaborate garment, meant for a far more splendid occasion, but I wanted to dazzle and distract him tonight, and the gown gave me confidence. It was almost eight when I moved down the staircase, still tense, praying I would be able to hide it.

  Helmut was waiting in the parlor, in a bad mood already because Meg and I hadn't appeared earlier. I smiled, apologizing for my tardiness and explaining that I had had trouble with my hair. Helmut made a grimace, refusing to be mollified. I added casually that there would just be the two of us tonight as Meg had already gone to bed with a headache.

  "She doesn't intend to join us?"

  "I'm afraid she overtired herself," I replied. "We spent all afternoon working on a dress. She knows the Holburns have invited the three of us to dinner next Tuesday. But none of her new clothes will have arrived by then, so she asked me to help her re-do one of her gowns."

  That seemed to please him. "She mentioned the Holburns?"

  "She said that you had insisted she go with us and, since she must go, she wanted to look nice. 'I don't want Helmut to be ashamed of me' were the words she used, I believe. The dre
ss is going to be rather nice. It's pale-blue silk, and we've taken it up and trimmed it with—"

  "Spare me the details," he said, leading me into the dining room. "I'm glad to see she's taking an interest. I suppose a night of rest will be good for her."

  "She's most anxious to finish the dress. We'll probably be through with it tomorrow."

  Helmut was in a tolerant, almost genial, mood throughout dinner, listening to my chatter with lordly condescension, eschewing his usual sarcasm. My nerves were ajangle, and I kept up the chatter, hoping he would take my nervousness for vivacity. I couldn't allow silence to fall, and when my supply of small talk began to run low, I plied him with questions about his various enterprises, subtly flattering his ego by pretending to be very impressed. He arched an eyebrow in amusement.

  "If I didn't know better, my dear, I'd think you were trying to seduce me. You come down wearing an elaborate gown, smelling of perfume, radiant and smiling. You chatter most engagingly, and you look at me with eyes that are suddenly full of admiration."

  "I was merely trying to be friendly."

  Helmut curled his lip. "I suspect you're beginning to feel a bit deprived."

  "Deprived?"

  "You want a man; my dear. It's obvious. It's been quite a long time, hasn't it? We must do something about that."

  "I—if you want to—"

  He chuckled, delighted. "I'm flattered, Marietta. My cool, haughty wife has finally decided to warm to me. You want me to come to your bedroom? You want me to give you a good, rousing session in bed?"

  I stared down at my plate, trying not to tremble.

  "I'm afraid I must disappoint you, my dear," he continued. "I appreciate your efforts, but, as I've mentioned before, you fail to appeal to me in that particular way. We really must find you a lover soon, though. I wouldn't want you to suffer unduly."

  I tried my best to look disappointed. Helmut was extremely pleased with himself, feeling he had just scored a small triumph. He was still in that expansive, self-congratulatory mood as we left the dining room, and I managed to look slightly dejected.

  "What are you going to do this evening?" I asked.

  "Since Meg is ill and you've expended all your charm, I imagine I'll do a bit of paperwork. Several accounts need my attention. After I've gone over them, I'll probably go to bed rather early myself."

  I hoped he wasn't planning to go to Meg's room. My remarks seemed to have convinced him that she genuinely needed her rest and wasn't faking illness as she had done earlier. I felt a wave of relief. There was just one more thing I needed to take care of. James and Meg would need money. I had little of my own, but I did have the diamond and emerald necklace and earrings Helmut had given to me. Although they were a "gift," he kept them locked away in his office safe, taking them out only on those occasions when he deemed it fitting for me to wear them. I had to get them, and I knew it would be quite impossible to break into the safe.

  "I suppose I'll go through my wardrobe and pick out something to wear to the Holburns' next week," I said casually. "I had thought the blue velvet, but as Meg will be wearing blue—" I hesitated. "I suppose you'll want me to wear the necklace and earrings?"

  "But of course. Mrs. Holburn will be dripping with jewels—all paste, no doubt."

  "Then I'll need to have them tonight," I remarked. "I'll want to make sure they won't clash with what I select to wear. If you'll get them out of your safe, I'll return them in the morning."

  He seemed to find this reasonable enough and, nodding, sauntered out of the room, returning a few minutes later with the long black leather case containing both necklace and earrings. I took the case, amazed that it had all been so easy.

  "Be careful with them," he said. "They represent quite an investment, you know."

  "I will be, Helmut."

  "I've been very pleased with you of late," he remarked. "I've found our arrangement extremely satisfactory. If you continue to please me, I might decide to purchase another little trifle. Your lovely neck would look fetching draped with several strands of pearls, or perhaps a web of rubies. Your good behavior shall not go unrewarded."

  "I'm glad you're pleased."

  "I must get to work now. See you in the morning, Marietta."

  When I finally got back to my bedroom I was exhausted, and my nerves seemed to shriek from the strain I'd been through. It was after nine. There was almost four hours to wait. I prowled around restlessly, unable to relax. I tried to read. I couldn't. I kept remembering Helmut's insane rage on that afternoon we had first encountered James, kept remembering the way he had seized the whip, wielding it with murder in his eyes. When he discovered that Meg was gone... I fought back the fear beginning to well up inside.

  There was no reason to be afraid, I told myself. He wouldn't dare do physical harm to me. My knowledge was a powerful weapon. He wouldn't risk my using it against him. There were laws against incest and, if I told the authorities what had been going on at Roseclay, Helmut could be imprisoned. I held all the cards, and I would play them ruthlessly. I would demand that our marriage be annulled—that would be easy enough to arrange if the right palms were filled with gold—and I would demand a very large settlement. It wouldn't be pleasant, but he wouldn't dare refuse to meet my demands. I would leave Natchez a free woman, and I would never set eyes on him again.

  First, though, I must get Meg safely away. I looked at the clock again. Only ten-thirty. Two and a half more hours. I opened the leather case and took out the necklace and earrings. Emeralds flashed with deep green fires. Diamonds shimmered with silver and gold lights, alive, lovely, each gem exquisitely set. With the money they would realize from the sale of these gems Meg and James could go anywhere they pleased, start anew, together. How fortunate she was to have someone who loved her so recklessly, so intensely. I put the gems back into the case, and a few minutes later I head Helmut come upstairs and go to his room.

  As I waited, nerves on edge, the hands of the clock seemed to creep. If I was tense and edgy, Meg must be doubly so, but at least she would soon be united with the man she loved. She had something to look forward to. I had nothing. Nothing. No, I wasn't going to start feeling sorry for myself. Not at this point. I had made this marriage with my eyes wide open. I had brought this all upon myself, deliberately. It was almost... almost as though I had wanted to punish myself for causing Jeff's death. I had thought I was marrying Helmut for his money, but perhaps there had been another reason, one I hadn't been consciously aware of at the time.

  At twelve-thirty I blew out all the candles and opened the hall door. I stood there listening. Roseclay was silent. It had never seemed so cold and formidable. I hated this house. I had hated it all along, even though I hadn't admitted it. Roseclay had been built for an evil purpose, and for all its beauty the place seemed cursed. No one would ever be happy within these icy walls. I shivered, forcing myself to wait a few minutes longer, and then I started down the hall. My eyes had already grown accustomed to the darkness, but even so I could barely see two feet ahead of me. Only a few rays of moonlight spilled through the windows at the very end of the hall.

  Nearing the door to Helmut's bedroom, I held my breath, moving past on tip toes. My yellow brocade skirt rustled crisply, and the sound seemed like great noise in the tense silence. Finally, reaching the door to Meg's room, I tapped lightly. She opened it immediately. There was enough moonlight to reveal her slender form and her pale face. I saw that she was carrying a small bag. Meg stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her. She was trembling.

  "Is everything all right?" she whispered.

  "Helmut's asleep. We have only to go downstairs and go outside. James will be waiting in the gazebo."

  "I'm so frightened."

  "There's nothing to be afraid of. Come."

  I took her free hand, and we started toward the staircase. We had gone only a few yards when Meg stumbled, dropping her bag. It landed with a loud bang that reverberated in my ears like an explosion. She gasped. I tugged her h
and, motioning her to be still. My heart was pounding now, and Meg was trembling more than ever. Both of us expected Helmut's door to be flung open and him to come charging into the hall, but he didn't. A minute passed. Another. I sighed with relief and, still holding her hand, reached down to pick up the bag.

  "I'd better carry it," I whispered.

  "I'm sorry. I'm just so—"

  "Come on. Let's go downstairs."

  We started down the stairs, descending into darkness, and it was only after we had gone halfway down that I realized I had forgotten the jewels. I stopped and let go of Meg's hand. She stiffened, terrified.

  "What's wrong?"

  "You'll have to wait here for me. I have to go back to my room. Here, take the bag. I'll only be gone a minute."

  "Marietta—"

  "Take the bag!" I hissed.

  I left her standing there on the dark staircase and moved back up to the hall, cursing myself for my stupidity. It seemed to take me an eternity to get back to my room, and then I couldn't remember where I had left the leather case. I didn't dare light a candle. Groping around in the darkness, I almost sent a vase crashing to the floor. I caught it only as it began to topple off the table. That completely unnerved me, and I wanted to scream. I stood very still, forcing myself to be calm, and then I remembered placing the case on the table beside the large chair. I found it immediately and hurried back to join Meg on the staircase.

  "Is that you?" she whispered.

  "Of course it is. Come. We'd better hurry."

  We moved on down the staircase and along the lower hall, reaching the back door a few moments later. What a relief it was to step outside into moonlight that streamed down in mellow rays. I pulled the door shut behind us and led Meg toward the gardens. The elm trees traced lacy black patterns over the silvered lawn. The carriage house and slave quarters were quiet. Both of us moved rapidly now, hurrying along the path with skirts flying.

  Hearing our approach, James stepped out of the gazebo and stood sculptured in moonlight like some beautiful Greek statue incongruously dressed in modern attire. Meg gave a little cry and dropped the bag, flying toward him. James clasped her to him in a passionate embrace, covering her lips with his own. Meg wrapped her arms around his back, clinging to him with a desperate urgency. I picked up the bag and waited for that tumultuous kiss to end. When James finally drew back, Meg began to babble in a breathless voice, and he placed his hand gently over her mouth. Her tears glistened in the moonlight.