“Yes, I imagine he’s worried. He’s grown real fond of Angele.”
Dr. Pardee closed his bag. “I’ll be back in a little while, but if you need me, let me know.”
Ryan frowned with the need for reassurance. “And you do think she’ll be all right once she’s had some rest?”
“Yes, and as I’ve already told you—there’s no reason she can’t have another baby. She probably wouldn’t have lost this one if she hadn’t taken that fall. Next time, keep her from riding.”
“And I told you,” Ryan said tightly, “I didn’t let her ride this time. I was just as surprised as everybody else when she came galloping across the lawn. Had I known what she was up to, you can bloody well believe I would have stopped her.”
“And you had no idea she was pregnant?”
“She never said a word.”
Dr. Pardee rounded the bed and patted his shoulder.
“Stop worrying. It was just one of those things. Let’s be thankful she wasn’t any farther along than she was.”
“How far do you think she was?”
“I couldn’t tell, and it doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s over. Now why don’t you go downstairs for a little while and have something to eat? You can’t do anything here, and you need to stretch your legs…get some fresh air.”
Selma seized the chance to be useful. “Master Ryan, I can go fetch you some vittles.”
He didn’t turn as he said, “I’m not hungry, but I could use some coffee. And tell Mammy Lou to lace it with scotch, please.”
“Yessir, I’ll go right now.”
She walked down the hall behind Dr. Pardee a little ways, then turned toward the rear and the servants’ stairway.
She hoped she would be allowed to return to Miss Angele’s room instead of helping with the cleaning. She liked her a lot and wished she had been nicer to her that morning when she had come to her cabin.
And she also wished she could have told her that she was right about what she saw that night.
The boy had been a runaway slave.
And BelleRose was the first stop for runaways on the way north!
Denise and Clarice were sitting on the lawn to catch the evening breeze coming from the river. It was too hot to be inside, and they had wanted to be where they could talk without the servants being able to hear.
“I still can’t believe it.” Denise shook her head in wonder. “Riding a horse, jumping him, when she was in the family way. No woman in her right mind would do such a thing no matter how bad she wanted to show off, which was obviously why she did it.”
Clarice had thought about that very same thing again and again in the hours since it had happened. Angele would never have risked losing her baby, she had sense enough to know giving Ryan a child would bond her to him and all his wealth forevermore. She would also have been afraid that if he blamed her, it could end their marriage.
As for his confiding to Corbett he had fallen in love with her—Clarice wasn’t too concerned about that. Ryan had been drinking. It might have been whiskey talk. And even if he had meant it when he said it, Angele’s stupid action could change his mind—especially if he believed she had known she was pregnant.
Denise cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but if I’m annoying you, I’ll be glad to go pack my things and leave for Richmond tonight and get out of your way.”
Clarice blinked back to the present. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re ignoring me.”
“I’m sorry. And you aren’t leaving tonight or tomorrow. So get that silly notion out of your head.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to stay any longer than I’d planned to after what’s happened. Ryan isn’t going to leave her side for an instant, and it won’t make any difference where I’m concerned if he does. He’s made it quite clear he’s no longer interested in me.”
“Don’t be such a ninny. Sometimes I wonder how on earth we can be kin when you never think like I do. For heaven’s sake, I’d never give up as easily as you seem to be doing.”
Denise flashed with resentment. “It happens to be a matter of pride, my dear cousin. I’ve told you he’s tried to avoid me all weekend. I have literally had to chase him down like a dog after a rabbit. And when I did manage to get him off to myself and let him know in dozens of little ways that I was willing and eager to make love, he pretended not to notice. I even came right out and said if I had the chance to do it over again, I would’ve said yes when he proposed.
“So tell me”—she threw up her hands in defeat—“what more can I do? It’s time to give up and accept the fact that he doesn’t want me.”
“That is hogwash.”
“How can you say that? It’s how it is.”
“That little tart has bewitched him, because he’s never been exposed to someone as carnal as she obviously is. There’s no telling what filthy things she does to him in bed to drive him crazy with lust. Men can be so lewd and disgusting. He probably does fancy himself in love with her, but it’s just raw, animal desire. He’ll get over it. And her losing the baby will make it happen faster—especially when he thinks she knew she was pregnant before she got on that horse.”
Denise stared at her sharply. “How could you ever make him believe that?”
With a sinister smile, Clarice said, “Quite easily. I’ll tell him Angele confided in Selma, who’s her personal maid, and Selma told me.”
Hope faded. Denise thought it was a ridiculous idea and said so, pointing out, “Even if you could get Selma to lie, Angele would deny it.”
“Of course she would. But that’s what Ryan would expect, and that is why he’d believe Selma instead.”
Denise was still not convinced. “Why don’t you just show Roussel the letter Corbett received that proves she’s only half French? Isn’t that enough to break up their marriage? Roussel will be so furious he’ll tell Ryan to either divorce her or forget about inheriting BelleRose.”
“Maybe. But Corbett says we can’t be sure, and he also says we can’t afford to take a chance it won’t matter to Ryan. She might have him under such a spell that he’ll say to hell with BelleRose and take her and leave.
“Stranger things have happened,” she warned, “when lust is stronger than reason in a man. But add lying about her lineage to being responsible for losing his baby, and I think that will be more than he can bear.”
Denise considered it, then gave a firm nod of assent. “It might work at that. But why do you want me to stay on? Won’t that look obvious?”
“No. You are family, and it’s understandable you would want to be around to offer what comfort you can in a time of sorrow. When Ryan needs a sympathetic ear, it’s important that you be close by. And don’t worry. He will turn to you. It’s only natural that he would, because even though he’s smitten by Angele for the moment, he can’t forget how he once felt about you.”
Denise wondered about that. Actually, she had never felt he was deliriously in love with her. They had more or less been drawn together by her kinship to Clarice and her French blood, and everyone in Richmond knew about Roussel Tremayne’s ultimatum to his son.
She also had to admit—if only to herself—that she had never been particularly enamored with Ryan. He was a devastatingly handsome man, but she was also attracted to many others and doubted she could ever lose her heart to only one man. His main attraction had been his fortune, which was why, after quickly thinking it over, she decided to go along with Clarice’s scheme.
“All right. I’ll stay as long as necessary.”
Clarice clapped her hands in delight. “Wonderful. And if Ryan doesn’t take you to his bed, we’ll make it appear that he did.”
“Now you aren’t making any sense at all.”
“You’ll understand when the time is right.” Clarice gave her a hug as she rose from her chair. “Just be ready to do whatever I ask.”
Denise also stood, and, as she did, swept the lush lands around her with covetous eyes. “You can c
ount on me. I’m not going to let all this slip through my fingers again.”
Selma cut a glance into the tea kitchen as she passed, hoping Mammy Lou might be there. Seeing Miss Clarice, she quickened her step, as always, wanting to avoid her at every chance.
But Clarice saw her and called shrilly, “Selma, you get right back here! Where have you been all evening? There’s a lot of work to be done.”
Biting back a groan, Selma turned and went back to explain. “I’ve been upstairs in Miz Angele’s room, waitin’ in case somebody wanted me to do somethin’ and now Master Ryan wants some coffee, and I came to fetch it.”
“Is she awake yet?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Well?” Clarice scowled at her. “Aren’t you going to tell me how she is, you stupid girl?”
Selma bit her lip to keep from crying. It always made Miss Clarice mad when she cried, but it hurt so bad when she called her names. “Ma’am, I don’t know. Miz Angele, she just lays there. Master Ryan thought she was wakin’ up one time, but she didn’t, and Doctor Pardee said she needed to sleep, anyhow, ’cause she’s so weak.”
“She’s a stupid girl, too,” Clarice said crisply as she poured lemonade for herself and Denise. She added a sprig of mint before continuing. “Anyone who would get on a horse in her condition hasn’t got the sense God gave a billy goat. I hope she feels like a fool when she wakes up. She ruined the weekend for everyone.”
Selma swallowed hard and hoped she wasn’t doing the wrong thing by defending Angele. “She didn’t mean to,” she said softly.
“Is that so?”
Selma desperately wanted to be on her way. “Can I go now?” she begged. “I need to get the master’s coffee to him. He’s waitin’.”
“I most certainly do want you for something else. I want you to tell me what you know about all this.”
Selma was dumbfounded. “I don’t understand.” The way Miss Clarice was looking at her was scary. Her eyes were shining like she was all excited about something, and the corners of her mouth twitched like she was trying not to laugh.
“I will help you to understand.” Clarice clamped her hands firmly on Selma’s quaking shoulders and pushed her against the wall and held her there. Leaning so close Selma could feel her harsh breath on her face, Clarice did not mince words. “I want you to tell me if Miss Angele showed any signs of being in the family way, such as being sick to her stomach. Or has she fainted? Think back, Selma. You should know—because you are her personal handmaid.”
Selma bit her lip and tried to look away, but Miss Clarice gave her a vicious shake that banged her head against the wall. But still she did not want to betray Miss Angele by saying the wrong thing. “I don’t know,” she wailed.
Abruptly, Clarice released her. She went to close the door into the hall. Then she returned to Selma and spoke in a low, ominous tone. “How long have you and Toby been married now?”
Selma didn’t know about dates and such, but Toby had said there had been three full moons since they jumped the broom. She hadn’t told him yet that she hadn’t had her monthly time since the second one.
“I don’t rightly know,” she answered finally.
Clarice’s mouth curved in a smile that Selma found terrifying. “Would you like to continue to live here, at BelleRose, and be Toby’s wife?”
Selma’s heart almost stopped beating. “Yes’m, yes’m, I would. You wouldn’t sell me, would you?”
“That depends. We get fine prices for slaves farther south. I heard Mr. Fordham say those two boys he sold while Master Ryan was in France brought a handsome sum. You know the boys I’m talking about, don’t you? The ones Master Ryan thinks drowned?”
Selma knew all right, but she hadn’t dared admit it when Miss Angele asked her about it. Anytime one of the slaves was sold, Master Ryan thought something else had happened to them. But it didn’t happen very often. Selma and Toby had talked about it…about how when a slave got to be lazy, or made Mr. Fordham or Master Corbett mad, they got sold. And they figured the reason they lied about it to Master Ryan was twofold. He wouldn’t allow it, and Mr. Fordham and Master Corbett were keeping the money for themselves.
Clarice was annoyed by Selma’s silence. “I asked you a question, stupid girl.”
Selma started crying. She couldn’t help it. “Yes’m, I know all about it, but I haven’t said anything to anybody and I never will.”
“That’s because you know if you do, you’ll be sold, too, don’t you?”
Selma’s head bobbed up and down. She was crying too hard to talk.
“Now, then. Let’s talk about you, Selma. It really would be a shame to have Mr. Fordham put you in a wagon in the middle of the night and take you down to North Carolina or maybe Georgia and put you up on a block and sell you to the highest bidder. You’d never see Toby again. And your new owner might beat you with a whip. Not all slaves are treated as kindly as here at BelleRose.”
“Don’t…don’t do it…” Selma begged, tears streaming down her face and running off her chin. She didn’t dare wipe them away with her apron. She was afraid to move at all.
Clarice was enjoying the torment, knowing Selma would eventually agree to do anything she told her to. “Just think, you would never see any of your family again. And Toby would be told you were dead. He might guess the truth, but there wouldn’t be anything he could do about it.”
Selma fell to her knees and clutched at her skirt. “Why are you doin’ this to me, Miz Clarice? I always do what I’m told. I always do my work, and I don’t sass you. Why would you want to sell me and take me away from my Toby?”
Looking down at her with amusement and contempt, Clarice murmured, “Well, it doesn’t have to be that way. All I want you to do is say that you saw Miss Angele being sick, and that she told you she thought she was going to have a baby. You’re also to say that she told you how she planned to ride a horse and jump him and you said it was dangerous with her thinking she was pregnant. But she said she didn’t care. She was going to do it, anyway.”
Selma slowly got to her feet, and she dared to rub her face as she backed away and whispered in horror, “But she didn’t say all that to me, Miz Clarice, and if I say she did, Master Ryan is going to be real mad with her, ’cause he’s terribly upset over her losing the baby.”
Clarice shrugged. “It’s either that or you’re going to find yourself on an auction block. Now, which is it to be?” Her eyes narrowed as she put her hand on Selma’s shoulder and squeezed so hard her nails cut into her flesh. “And if you deny it later, Toby won’t be wrong in thinking you’re dead.”
Selma felt a roll of nausea. She couldn’t let them sell her, not when she loved Toby so much…not when she was going to have his baby.
She bowed her head and quickly said a prayer asking forgiveness for the sin of lying.
Clarice gave her a rough shake. “Do you want me to go and tell Mr. Fordham right now to get ready to take a stupid little girl slave to the auction block?”
Her voice breaking on a sob, Selma answered, “I’ll say whatever you want me to, Miz Clarice. Just please don’t sell me…don’t take me away from my Toby.”
Clarice smirked in triumph. “It seems the stupid little girl might not be as stupid as I thought.
“Now, you will listen to me,” she continued gravely, “and do exactly as I say…”
In the light of the bedside lamp, Angele seemed to be bathed in an ethereal glow.
Ryan was keeping vigil. Dr. Pardee had left, saying there was no need for him to stay the night. The house was quiet. Everyone had apparently gone to bed. But Ryan had no intention of doing so.
Losing the baby had crushed him deeply. That was a small blow, however, compared to the pain of wondering if Angele would now leave him.
And since Clarice’s visit, the fear was even greater.
She had come to ask if there was any change…anything she could do, then broke down and cried.
She said she couldn’t help it, beca
use she felt so bad about the baby.
And she had also said how sorry she was for Angele and only hoped, prayed, that it might make her reconsider her discontent, and plans—if she had any—to leave. After all, Clarice pointed out, Ryan and Angele had made a baby together, and even if God had taken him before he had a chance to be born, it was still a holy thing and bonded them as man and wife.
Ryan had never seen Clarice so moved over anything, and he almost thought she was going to collapse into hysteria when she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and sobbed, “Ryan, tell me she didn’t know…tell me she wouldn’t have done such a thing if she had…”
He had wished Corbett were there to peel her off him. He finally managed to do it, trying not to hurt her as he pulled her arms from around his neck and pushed her into a chair.
He had then assured her that he’d had no idea Angele was pregnant and was confident Angele hadn’t either, or she would have told him.
Clarice had wept and thanked him for that. She said she needed to hear it…needed to believe Angele wasn’t so homesick and miserable that she’d purposely try to have a miscarriage so she wouldn’t be tied down and could go her own way.
And if that scene hadn’t been enough to set his teeth on edge, Denise came not long after Clarice finally left to offer her condolences.
She said she also wanted to apologize if she had made him uncomfortable by anything she might have said or done.
“I feel absolutely wretched over this,” she had avowed fervently. “Had I known she was carrying your baby, Ryan, I would never have admitted to loving you, wanting you…wishing things could be different. But I couldn’t keep still any longer. I had to tell you how I’ve rued the day and hated myself ever since for teasing you like I did.
“So love her if you must,” she had said, weeping as she backed toward the door. “You have my blessings, and I’ll never bother you again, I swear. But I’m here if you need me. Know that, my darling…”
He had locked the door after her, determined there would not be another intrusion this night.
Ryan's Bride Page 29
