Matthew ran a thumb over her jaw. “Since she is your closest family, I thought that would suffice…?”
The lump that gathered in her throat kept Annabelle from doing anything more than nod.
Matthew threw up his hand. “Oh, I wanted to do this with something big and romantic….” He fished something out of his pocket. “But I simply cannot wait any longer!”
Matthew dropped to one knee, and Annabelle’s heart felt as though it would burst from her chest. Peggy gasped. Annabelle shifted her weight from foot to foot, excitement welling up within her and then falling down her cheeks as two tears of joy. She sniffled. Oh, heavens! She was ruining the moment with her blubbering.
But Matthew didn’t seem to notice. The adoration shining in his eyes made her long to stare into their depths forever.
“Annabelle Ross?” Matthew’s voice hitched. So uncharacteristic for the mighty warrior she had come to love.
“Yes?” she answered, the breathy word lingering between them for a heartbeat before he spoke words that swelled her heart to the point it nearly burst from her chest.
“Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
She bounced on her toes, a thrill running through her veins. “Yes! Oh, a hundred times yes!”
He slipped cold metal onto her finger, and she looked down at a bright sapphire, flanked on each side by two diamonds. Her breath caught. “Where…?”
“Like I said, I spoke to your grandmother.” Matthew caressed her hand. “She insisted you have this. It was your mother’s.”
She cupped Matthew’s chin and ran her thumb across his cheek. “Thank you.”
He jumped to his feet and swept her into his arms. Annabelle gazed into his eyes, and saw the love swimming in them. She tried to push all her feelings for him through her gaze as well, hoping he would see the devotion that swelled in her heart.
Peggy cleared her throat again. “Now, Captain….”
“But Peggy,” Matthew interrupted, “Surely this can’t be improper.” His eyes never left Annabelle’s.
“Well…” Peggy huffed. “All right. But only for a moment. I’ll be right outside that door, you hear? And you’s got two minutes. Nothin’ more.”
Matthew grinned, and his lips fell on Annabelle’s before Peggy even made it out the door.
She’d said yes! This beautiful, strong, feisty woman was to be his wife! Matthew’s fingers trailed up her back, and he felt her shiver in his arms. He pulled her closer, gently exploring the lips that would be his to kiss for a lifetime.
A soft sigh escaped her mouth, and she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair, pulling it free from its tie. Matthew’s body responded, and with a groan, he gently eased her away. “We should stop.”
Annabelle bit her bottom lip, still swollen from his passionate kiss. After a moment, she gave a reluctant nod. “Yes, you are right of course.”
He took a piece of her golden hair and rubbed it between his fingers. Soon he would get to free these tresses from their pious prison and let the curls tumble down her back. A shiver ran through him and he took a step away from her. “I’d marry you tomorrow, if you’d let me.”
A smile bloomed on her pink lips, but she shook her head. “Much as I am eager to be your wife, I would like to be married at Rosswood.” She dropped her gaze. “It is the closest I can get to my parents being there.”
Matthew wanted to tell her that her parents’ memory would be present no matter where they wed, but he knew it was important to her. He could wait. He placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to him.
Peggy knocked on the door. “All right, now, that’s enough. Open up,” she said against the wood.
Matthew smirked and gave Annabelle one last gentle kiss before he opened the door. “Ah, Peggy. Right on time.”
She assessed him with lifted brows before her gaze darted around him to Annabelle. Peggy put her hands on her hips. “Lands, how we ever gonna travel now? I’ll not get the first bit of sleep for havin’ to watch you two.”
Heat crept up Annabelle’s neck and cast a fetching pink tinge on her cheeks.
“Now, Peggy,” Matthew said with a mock indignation. “I will be the utmost gentleman. You have my word.”
Peggy studied him a moment. “Well, all right then.”
Annabelle squeezed Matthew’s hand. “Now that you are back, can we go home?”
Matthew hesitated, not wanting to break the joy of the moment. “I’m afraid not, my love.”
Disappointment flared in her eyes. “But…why not?”
Matthew rubbed the back of his neck. “They want us to testify at the trial.”
Annabelle groaned. “We have already told them everything! Will the Yanks never let us go about our lives?”
Matthew’s eyes widened. “Why, I never thought I’d hear you say such a thing, Annabelle.”
Peggy huffed an agreement but Annabelle ignored her. She ran her palms along her gingham skirt. “Well, you don’t know how these…Northerners treated me in prison.” She shivered.
Matthew’s nostrils flared. “What do you mean?”
She waved her hand as though to dismiss it. “They were just…sharp tongued.”
Matthew stared at her.
Annoyance sparked in her eyes, turning sunny skies to storm clouds. “But really, how could they blame me like that? Just because I come from Mississippi means this whole war is my fault? That Lincoln’s death is my fault?” Her voice rose with each word.
Matthew placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing himself to remain calm. His temper would do her no good. “Do not listen to them, my love. Soon we will be able to go back to Rosswood and be gone from this terrible place.”
Annabelle drew her lip through her teeth. “If we can regain it.”
Matthew’s grip tightened. “We will. I promise.”
Annabelle stared at Matthew and wanted to ask how he could possibly promise such a thing, but the sincerity in his eyes stayed her tongue. She knew this man well enough to know that once he set his mind to something, it would take an act of God to move his course. Perhaps she should have been praying about this. Asking God’s direction. Oh, heavens. Why did she always think of that so late?
I’m sorry, Father. Please, direct us.
“Besides,” Matthew said, releasing her shoulders. “There is hope that we will have aid once we return south, after this trial is done. Or, at least, our part in the trial is complete.”
Her interest piqued. “What do you mean?”
“That lawman, Mr. Fitch, implied that as loyal Unionists….” Matthew spat out the word, making Annabelle tilt her head in confusion. He cleared his throat and started again. “As loyal Unionists, there would be certain allowances granted to us. Hopefully, that will mean not only will you keep your lands from being stripped from you by the North, but that we will also receive some help in prying them from your grandfather’s clutches.”
Annabelle tugged on one of her curls, slipping it from a pin. “Well, that’s something, I suppose. At least our being tangled in this web might not be all horrible after all.”
Matthew graced her with an approving smile, and her heart jumped. “There’s my girl. Now, all we have to do is give our account before the military court, and then…” He swept her into his arms again, “It’s off to Rosswood to make you my wife!”
“Booth must have had some good reasons for changing his plan, or he never would have done so. We had agreed on so good a scheme, that to change it seemed like tempting destiny.”
John Surratt
Smith House
New York
May 3, 1865
Lilly’s hands began to shake as she stared at the letter in her hand. It had arrived two days ago, but still she could not open it for fear of what it contained.
“Mama.” Frankie tugged at her skirt, his sweet voice smoothing her worry lines like a hot iron to a rumpled cloth.
“What’s the matter, baby?” Lilly scooped him up a
nd nuzzled her nose into his chubby neck, his scent of powder and baby soothing to her nerves.
Frankie reached up and rubbed on her ear in the same habit he had of rubbing his own. He smiled at her, the little row of pearly teeth reminding her he wouldn’t be a baby much longer. “Eat, mama?”
Lilly chuckled. “You must be growin’ mighty fast, baby. You always want to eat.” She tucked the letter in her dress pocket and took Frankie into the kitchen where Sue would be preparing them a lunch.
Instead of bustling about, she found Sue staring at a shelf with her hands on her hips. Lilly sat Frankie down, and he toddled over to the quilt they kept spread out on the floor for him and picked up a carved horse.
“What’s wrong, Sue?”
The other woman huffed, her shoulders lifting with an exaggerated sigh. “I’s tryin’ to see if there’s anything that I can send to Washington City that will keep.”
Lilly came to stand by her side. “What’re you talking about?”
Sue turned to look at her. “To send to the misses, of course.” She regarded Lilly as though she’d let go of her sense.
Lilly chuckled. “Have you ever been down to Washington?”
“No. What’s that matter?”
Lilly stepped over to a basket by the stove and lifted the cloth draped over it. “They have restaurants, and even the hotels have fine food. I promise you, Mrs. Smith is doing just fine without you needing to send her supplies.” She plucked a plump roll from the stack and replaced the cloth.
“Hump. Them places don’t know about Mrs. Smith’s,” she lowered her voice, “delicate stomach.” She glanced around as though someone might overhear.
Lilly squatted down and offered the roll to Frankie. He dropped the horse and reached for the bread. Lilly pulled it back. “We say thank you, baby, when someone gives us something.”
Frankie reached again. Lilly smiled and slowly pronounced, “Thank you.”
“That baby too little for such stuff,” Sue mumbled behind her.
Lilly held out the roll and offered Frankie a warm smile. His brown eyes looked at her, then his treat. “Tank you, mama.”
Lilly beamed. “Very good, Frankie!” She handed him the roll and sat back, satisfied. Lilly turned back to Sue with a grin. “Never too soon for him to start learning to be a gentleman.”
Compassion swam in Sue’s eyes, and Lilly’s smile faded. She turned away. How could she teach Frankie all he would need to know about being a man?
As though reading her thoughts, Sue put a hand on her arm. “You read that letter yet?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Lilly watched Frankie finish his roll and grab up a carved wooden frog, making bubbling sounds with his mouth. “What good would it do?”
“Lilly, you know Mrs. Smith been trying to get you to find a good gentleman that would make a good papa for this baby. I seen the way that fellow looked on you when he was here. Maybe that letter is asking for courtin’.”
Lilly stood and folded her arms. “That’s not it.”
Sue scoffed. “How you know if you won’t open it?”
“Because he already asked to court, and I told him no.”
Sue’s mouth fell open. “You did what?”
Lilly pulled the letter out of her apron pocket and looked at the neatly printed letters. He’d assumed she could read. She could, but only after Mrs. Smith taught her, and she still was a bit slow. If he knew the truth about her, he wouldn’t be doing these things.
“That there’s a fine gentleman, and one right handsome as white folks go,” Sue said with a smirk. “Even though he do need some good cookin’ to fatten him up.” Lilly gave her a flat stare and Sue grew serious. “He a fine gentleman, Lilly. One that could be a good papa to Frankie. You told me youself how he played with the boy, and how Frankie took right to him.”
Lilly’s eyes darted to Frankie. His olive skin, so much like his father’s, would never really be accepted. She shook her head. “It’s not possible.”
“Why?” Sue prodded.
“Why…why, because he’s a plantation owner!”
Sue wiped her hands on her stained apron. “Well, war’s over now. Plantations ain’t going to be what they were before. And you ain’t never been no slave.”
Lilly sank into a chair and drew a deep breath of the pleasant scents that always filled the kitchen—spices, flour, and the lingering sweetness from this morning’s oatmeal. Her mind drifted back to the days in the orphanage. From what the nuns had told her, she’d been brought in because she was far too white. They said her parentage was too easy to tell. She looked up at Sue. “Do I look white to you?”
Sue placed her hands on her thick hips. “Now, what kind of question is that?”
“One I’d like you to answer.”
Sue put a hand under Lilly’s chin and turned her face to look at it as though she’d not spent the last nearly three years with Lilly. “You sure ain’t pale as cotton, like so many of them is.”
The corners of Lilly’s mouth turned up. “Besides that.”
Sue dropped her hand. “Yeah, I’d say so. You look bout like them poor white women, the ones who go out in the sun and actually do some work.” She shrugged. “Why? You wantin’ to look like them rich ladies?”
“Of course not.” Lilly didn’t want to be anything like the women who must have insisted she be sent to the orphanage, lest anyone know their precious men found comfort in the warm arms of colored women instead of sharing their beds with frozen flowers.
“You know they ain’t all bad. Look at Mrs. Smith. She got plenty of money, and she use a good bit of it to help our people.”
Lilly looked at the floor. “I don’t have a people.”
Sue placed a hand on her shoulder. “You got people. You might even have more people than most, seein’ as you got blood from both white and colored.”
Lilly barked a bitter laugh. “Blood from two peoples and wanted by neither.”
“Now, that ain’t so. There’s a fine white gentleman that’s interested in you. I say you don’t let that go to waste.”
Lilly tucked a stray hair back into her bun. She remembered the way her heart galloped and the way Mr. Daniels had made her hands tremble. Things her sweet Bernardo had never made her do. He’d promised that the two of them working together would give them a better life. He’d been right, and they had been able to rent themselves a small room in a safer section of New Orleans. He’d been the only man who ever seemed to care about her. Sure, there’d been the salacious looks from some men, but never the looks of ardor that Bernardo had given her.
Bernardo had such dreams. His family had come through the port, looking for a new life. The hard conditions, the endless hours spent toiling to learn a smith trade, they never dampened his spirits. He’d said he would make a life for them. A good one.
Lilly sighed. “I wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t died.”
“Your husband?”
An unexpected tear slid down Lilly’s cheek, and she swiped it away.
Sue grabbed another chair and swung it around in front of Lilly, then settled her bulk into it. “I’s so sorry. I shouldn’t have been pushin’ for you to see another man when you is still in love with the one you done lost.”
Lilly should nod and leave it there. That would be for the best, right? Instead the truth sprang from her mouth. “I never really loved him. He was a good man, and kind. And I was very fond of him. But…it was more a deep friendship than love. I still miss him, though.”
Frankie spotted his mother sitting still and got up from his blanket, hurrying over to her side. He lifted his arms to her, and she scooped him up and placed him in her lap. Sue watched them quietly, allowing Lilly to sort through her thoughts.
“If he were still alive, maybe we would have gotten a house by now. And Frankie would have had his father. A father who had the same tone of skin, and would never look down on him for its darkness.”
Sue tilt
ed her head. “Mr. Daniels didn’t seem to mind one bit about this baby’s coloring. He got eyes, Lilly. He can see the boy got something other than white in him. And still he plays with the baby, and looks at you like you be the queen of England.”
Lilly laughed. “What would you know of the queen?”
Sue shrugged. “Nothing. Don’t mean I can’t see when a man looks at a woman like she’s royalty. I know, because my Henry used to look at me that way, even though I was nothing more than a hefty slave sweatin’ by the cooking fires. Didn’t mean nothing to him. He looked on me like I was the finest lady in all the world.”
Lilly offered a sad smile. “That sounds beautiful. I’m so sorry you lost him.”
Sue wouldn’t be turned from their conversation. “Now, Mr. Daniels, he look at you like that. Maybe you sees mixed blood like I saw being sweaty and covered in cooking grease, but just like my Henry, that Daniels man don’t see those things. He look at you different.”
Frankie gently rubbed on Lilly’s ear again and her heart ached. “He wouldn’t though, if he knew what I am. A mulatto who grew up in an orphanage. I’m not some white lady meant for a plantation. I can’t live somewhere like where Momma came from.” She shook her head. “I just can’t.”
It had taken her years, but after the North passed their proclamation and Southern slaves started making their runs, she had finally found someone willing to get Momma out. The stories she’d told Lilly on the long journey to New York were horrible.
“Well, I wonder if a woman who knows what life be like for colored folks were to take the place of a plantation lady…” Sue left her words dangling in the air between them.
“She could make things better for the people there.” Lilly finished, her brows gathering. Could she do it? Pretend her past didn’t matter and let her heart explore these strange new feelings for this man? And if she were to marry him, could she make differences in the South? Make up for failing her mother?
“Maybe it be best if you start with openin’ that letter,” Sue said, gesturing to the envelope Lilly had laid on the table.
She picked it up and broke the seal before she could convince herself otherwise and unfolded the single sheet. “Miss Rose….” she began.
The Liberator Series Box Set: Christian Historical Civil War Novels Page 74
