As they approached Rose Hill, the landscape a burnished gold in the late autumn sunset, the driver remarked casually, "I reckon Missus Oates'll be glad to see you, since you say she's your mother. Talk in town has it that she's mighty sick, and what with the war and all, I don't imagine she's any better off than the rest of us."
Julie blinked. Something he had said... a mistake, no doubt. "You referred to my mother as Mrs. Oates. I think I misunderstood you."
"Oh no, ma'am." He shook his head positively. "You ain't heard? My, how families do drift apart in time of war. She's Missus Oates, all right. Married that man from England, the one what walked around full of airs, givin' folks the impression he had so much money. Well, if you'll pardon me for sayin' so, miss, folks are talking about how he ain't really got nothin', 'cept what he expects to get from your ma, and if the winds of war don't blow more favorable to the South, that ain't gonna be much."
He talked on, but there was a giant roaring in Julie's ears, and she clutched the sides of the carriage to steady herself as they bumped along the rutted dirt road. Mrs. Oates—Mrs. Oates—the name kept ringing in her brain like a thousand church bells. It could not be so. Why would her mother marry him? And the driver had said she was sick. Just what was going on at Rose Hill, she worried, a lump of fear constricting her throat.
The driver was still talking, but Julie leaned forward to tap his shoulder and say, "Could you pick up the horses' canter, please? I'm so anxious to get home."
He nodded and popped his buggy whip across the horses' backs.
Julie leaned back against the worn leather seat, shaking. Dear Lord, her heart was screaming, what awaited her at Rose Hill?
Chapter 13
When Mammy Sara opened the front doors to find Julie standing on the porch, she burst into hysterical tears, gathered her in her arms, and pulled her tightly against her big bosom. "Lawdy, Lawdy, it is you, Miss Julie. It is!, she cried. "Praise God for answerin' this tired old woman's prayers. You done come from providence's shores."
The two clung together emotionally, then Julie raised her head and looked over Sara's shoulder, stiffening at the sight of Virgil posed resplendently on the curving stairway. He wore an elegant red waistcoat, white silk cravat, and black and white striped pants tucked inside shiny ebony boots. One hand touched the banister lightly; the other was placed on his hip.
Cocking his head to one side, he smiled slightly and said, "Well, this is a surprise. Welcome home, Julie."
Sara gasped and jerked away as though suddenly frightened. "I'll fix tea...." she said nervously, scurrying from the room.
Virgil slowly descended the stairs, and Julie could only stand there, not knowing what to say. It was all so strange—as though she'd been asleep for a long, long time and awakened years later to find herself in a completely different world.
"I know it must have been a terrible ordeal for you," Virgil was saying, his lips brushing her cheek. "We'll talk about it all later, but for now, I'm afraid I have to greet you with distressing news. Your mother is quite ill and has taken to her bed. Do you mind terribly if we don't tell her of your homecoming just yet? I think the doctor should prepare her for such a shock."
"No, no, that's fine. I—" Julie shook her head to clear it. So many thoughts and questions racing through her brain. She tried to sort them out. "Mother," she said quickly. "I want to know her condition. What does the doctor say?"
"Dr. Perkins sees her every day. But come along. Let's not stand here in the foyer." He looked over her shoulder toward the open doors. "You have trunks? I'll get someone—"
"No. No, I have nothing."
He raised an eyebrow. "You have only the clothes you're wearing?" he asked incredulously.
"It—it's a very long story, Virgil. I have questions of my own I want answered before we discuss me."
He led her into the parlor, and she glanced around and saw that everything was as she remembered. A fire was crackling in the grate to ward off the fall chill in the air. She walked over to warm her hands, then turned and faced him. Taking a deep breath, she cried, "All right, Virgil. I want to hear all of it What is wrong with my mother? Why was my ransom not paid? And why are you now married to my mother?"
He raised both hands in a pleading gesture. "One question at a time, my dear. Now, don't be angry. You know it was you I wanted to marry, you that I loved—"
"That is the last question on my mind at the moment." Her voice cracked. "First of all, I want to know about my mother's condition."
"Her heart." He spoke so easily, so casually, that she knew her first suspicions had been correct. He did not love her mother.
"How bad?"
"The doctor says she's very weak. He can't say if she will ever get better."
Julie squeezed her eyes shut, her teeth grinding together. No, she whispered silently. No-no-no, she can't die. Not now. Not when we've both been through so much, and now that we're back together again...
Her head jerked up, eyes flashing open. "The ransom. Why wasn't it paid?"
"Because your mother didn't have it." His eyes narrowed. Julie had never thought him either attractive or ugly, just plain-looking. But with the expression on his face at the moment, she found him quite distasteful.
He rushed on defensively. "She gave her cotton crop and half your dowry to that bloody pirate. By the time she arrived in England, she was at the point of destitution. Did you actually think she could raise that kind of money?"
"I assumed she would seek your help," Julie said icily, pointedly, "since you were forever trying to impress us with your wealth and power. Yet despite the fact that you're obviously a fraud, as Captain Arnhardt tried to make me realize, you persuaded my mother to marry you. How did you accomplish such a feat?"
He smirked. "Now you're letting your jealousy show, my love. You mustn't do that. You will have to learn to control your emotions. Word of your attitude might reach your mother's ears, and she's in no condition to be unnecessarily worried." He reached out to her. "But don't fret. I still desire you as much as I always did. We'll find time—"
She knocked his hand away viciously. "Don't you touch me, and how dare you speak this way? I was a fool to even consider marrying you. You're nothing but a liar and a fake, and I want you to leave this house immediately." She was so angry she began to tremble.
He threw back his head and laughed, then turned a cold gaze upon her. "I'm master of this house now, Julie. Keep a civil tongue in your head and be respectful to me, or I will have to ask you to leave."
She could not believe this was actually happening.
"Your mother had no choice but to marry me," he continued matter-of-factly. "She was most vulnerable. When I couldn't have you, I reached for the next best thing. It got me what I ultimately wanted...." He swept his hand through the air. "It got me Rose Hill."
"Well, you won't have it for long!" Julie's eyes flashed fire as she stormed from the room, almost knocking the tray of tea from Sara's hands as the old woman prepared to enter.
"Miss Julie, don't go up there, please...." Sara whispered in anguish as Julie started up the stairs.
Julie turned to stare down at her. "Why? Is Mother really that ill, Sara? I think you know what's been going on around here, but now that I've returned, there will be a stop to all of it."
Sara's eyes were wide, beseeching. "Please, Miss Julie, come on with me to the kitchen," she cried. "Let me and Lionel talk to you before you go runnin' off up there to fret your mama. Please?"
Virgil appeared in the doorway, thumbs hooked in his belt. He looked at the two of them, a smug expression on his face. "Yes, my love, you be a smart girl and do what Sara says. Hear her out before you go upsetting your mother. If you go up there now, I will hold you responsible for the consequences. She is quite ill, and if you don't believe me, Dr. Perkins can verify what I say when he arrives."
Julie could bear to look at him no longer. She followed Sara to the kitchen, where Lionel was plucking a chicken on the back steps ju
st outside the door. Sara told him to stop what he was doing and come inside. When he walked in, his eyes popped in surprise, then watered with tears of joy.
He gave her a quick hug. "Welcome home, missy. Praise the Lord you's safe."
"We got to tell her how it is," Sara said in a rush. "She done had a fuss with Mastah Virgil, and we gots to keep her from upsettin' her mama."
Julie sat down, glad to relieve her wobbling legs from supporting her. And she listened, shocked, as they told her how Virgil did, indeed, now run Rose Hill. It was also true that her mother had been in bed for some time. Dr. Perkins could give no explanation except to say that he suspected she had a weak heart. He held out little hope for her recovery.
"But you bein' home can change all that, missy," Sara told her in a desperate voice. "Her spirit's done gone, that's all what's wrong with your mama. She never was a strong woman nohow. And marryin' that man was the worst thing she could've done, though Lord knows she was so upset over you bein' gone on top of Mastah Myles, that she wa'n't in her right mind."
"Mastah Virgil, he's mean," Lionel interrupted. "He beat up on some of the field hands and they run off, and there weren't enough to get the rice in. And the cotton, it just rotted in the fields. Things ain't good. And yo' mama, she just kept on fadin' away, like she couldn't stand to see what was happenin' around here. Now that you's back, maybe she'll have somethin' to hope for, to live for."
"That's right." Sara nodded, lower lip jutting out. "You can't go stressin' yo' mama. If'n we told her what-all goes on around here, she'd done been in her grave a long time ago. Maybe you can take a stand and not bend like a willow in a storm."
Julie chewed her lower lip thoughtfully, then asked anxiously if they had heard from Myles. Sadly they shook their heads. "I suppose it was too much to hope for," she sighed. "If only he were here—if we only knew how to contact him."
"He still can't come home," Sara pointed out hesitantly. "I mean, the sheriff, he comes around now and then, askin' questions. It's like he's got his mind made up he's gonna get Mastah Myles sooner or later."
Lionel snorted. "I'll bet if'n he did come back, Mistah Oates would run right to the sheriff to tell him about it. He don't want Mastah Myles around here. Naw suh."
"Myles would find a way to stop him," Julie said confidently, rubbing her fingertips against her throbbing forehead. It had all been too much, too soon. She took a deep breath, then let it out with disgust. "The very idea! Beating the servants and making them run away."
"And that man enjoys it, too," Lionel said excitedly. "His eyes was just a'shinin', every time he'd pick up that whip."
Sara snapped impatiently, "You get back to pluckin' that chicken. We don't need no more talk about beatin's. I gotta get Miss Julie fed so she'll feel like talkin' to the doctor and her mama later."
Lionel lumbered out, and Julie gratefully took the tea Sara gave her. Then she was handed a plate of cold sweet potatoes and corn bread, which she ate ravenously. Lost in thought and worried about the future, she hadn't thought much about eating on the trip, just having a bite of something here and there to keep up her strength.
When she had finished and leaned back in her chair, Sara sat down opposite her, her brow furrowed. "Was it bad, Miss Julie? When the pirates kidnapped you off the island, was it bad?"
"They weren't pirates, Sara," she managed to laugh, despite the oppression that hung over the house like a shroud. She told Sara everything that had happened since they'd seen each other last, leaving out the intimate parts with Derek, of course.
Then she was blinking back tears of anguish as she told about Derek stepping off the plank. Sara's eyes grew larger with each word, and then she clasped her hands across her big bosom and rocked to and fro, moaning, "Oh, Miss Julie, that's awful. That's plumb awful. Do you think he made it back?"
Julie lifted her eyes and gazed through the kitchen window at the brown and gold fields. Only the tall pines and magnolias lent any green to the landscape. "I like to think he did," she murmured in a faraway voice, remembering the hours of joy they had shared. "He wasn't really a bad sort, you know. He could be very kind, and he said he was actually doing it all for my sake, because he knew Virgil was a fraud.
"If anyone could make it to shore," she said finally, wistfully, "Derek Arnhardt could."
"Why, Miss Juliet" Sara slapped her knees jovially. "I do believe you went and fell in love!"
"What?" She couldn't believe her ears. "Sara, no! He was arrogant and bossy and headstrong, and once he even slapped me. Love him? Oh, no. I was fond of him because we spent some time together, but—"
Sara continued to laugh, brown eyes sparkling. "You don't get fond of somebody 'cause you spend time with 'em, missy, 'specially when they kidnap you. No suh. I knows what I see, and I see you lookin' all dreamy-eyed, and you ain't never looked like that when you was talkin' about other young men. It was like an angel was sprinklin' stardust in yo' eyes. You done went and fell in love—"
Suddenly Sara was struggling to her feet, hand flying to her gaping mouth in terror. Julie swung around to see what had frightened her so, and she saw that Virgil had stepped from behind the door that led to the front hallway.
"Well, how long have you been eavesdropping?" Julie demanded, standing to face him in a blaze of fury. "Did you hear anything of interest?"
"Oh, yes indeed." He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "So you were taken with Captain Arnhardt, were you? Well, from the sound of things, he's out of the way for good. That will save me the trouble—"
Julie laughed mockingly. "That's the funniest thing I ever heard. Derek could crush you with one hand, and I'm no more frightened of you than he would've been."
"Is that so?" His cheeks began to flush. "Well, then, suppose I just go up to your mother's room and tell her about all your escapades? You didn't tell what went on behind closed doors, but it doesn't take much imagination to fill in the details. She will be quite shocked to hear about how her precious daughter was ravished at will for months. It might even prove so disturbing she could have a fatal attack...."
He turned to go, but Julie grabbed his arm. "You wouldn't do such a thing—"
"Oh, yes, I would!" He shoved her viciously away from him. "Let's get a few things straight right now, just so we understand each other. I don't give a damn whether she lives or dies. I've got what I want—this plantation!"
Julie felt herself losing control. "You won't have it for long." She rasped out the words. "I'll see that you're exposed for what you are: a conniving liar...."
This time he laughed mockingly. "You? Why, in case you didn't realize it, my love, you're now considered white trash by decent folk."
"How dare you—" She raised her hand to strike him, but he caught her wrist and twisted her arm painfully downward.
"I wouldn't try that. And I speak the truth, you little fool. Did you really think you could return home and hold your head high when everyone knows you were kidnapped by pirates? Everyone knows you're soiled goods. Who would listen to the ravings of a trollop?"
Julie felt herself collapsing, and she stumbled backwards to the chair and sat down. She was stunned, and, for the moment, helpless. She did not know which way to turn or where to go for help.
Virgil turned his wrath upon Sara, who cringed before him, clutching the hem of her white apron all the way up to her nose. "As for you," he screamed, "if I ever hear of you gossiping about anything that goes on in this house again, I'll beat the hide off your worthless back. Do you understand?"
"Yassuh, mastah, yassuh." Sara bowed, groveling before him, then turned and fled out the back door.
"Now, then." Virgil pulled at the front of his waistcoat, straightened his cravat, then pasted a stiffly triumphant smile on his lips. "I want you to go to your room and freshen yourself up. Dr. Perkins will be here soon, and once he prepares your dear mother for the shock, you will go to her and have your emotional reunion, then congratulate her on her good fortune in marrying me and tell her how you wel
come me as a stepfather."'
Julie said nothing. For the moment, until she talked with the doctor and learned her mother's exact condition, she must remain silent. Afterwards, she would deal with this hypocrite.
"My poor darling," her mother said over and over, her weak arms patting Julie's back as she held her against her frail body. "I thought I would never see you again...
She was unbelievably thin and frail. Julie tried to hide her concern. Lying there, propped on the pillows in the big canopied bed, her mother looked like a little doll, so tiny and fragile.
"Mother, you just get well. I'm home now, and everything is going to be just fine." Julie forced a smile to her quivering lips as she sat up, and nervously fluffed up the pillows.
"Yes, yes." Her mother's voice was weak. She closed her eyes for a moment, as though needing to rest before continuing. Julie glanced up sharply at the doctor. He nodded to let her know everything was all right.
Her mother was looking at her again. "Can you forgive me, Julie," she whispered, "for marrying Virgil? I knew it was you he loved and cared for, but when we couldn't raise the money, and we feared you'd been killed, we... we clung to each other for strength." Her chest rose and fell heavily, as though it were a struggle for her to utter each and every word. "We grew close. I... I needed him. Can you understand that—"
"Mother, it doesn't matter," Julie interrupted. "I just want you to get well and be happy." She leaned over and kissed her bony cheek. "Rest now. My return has been a shock, I know. Tomorrow I'll come and sit with you, and we'll have a long visit."
"Yes... a long visit. We'll talk about how it will be... when Myles comes home... and Rose Hill... in the spring... how lovely it will be..." She closed her eyes; this time her head lolled to one side.
Dr. Perkins stepped forward quickly and patted Julie's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't upset yourself. She's only sleeping. She's terribly weak, and she falls asleep quite easily, with no warning. Now, you've got to get hold of yourself. I can't have you going to pieces. We have to make her believe she's going to get well again."
This Rebel Heart Page 20
