by Leanne Tyler
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I remember you telling me about your prim aunt when we were at seminary. It doesn’t sound as if it has been easy on you raising Mariah’s child as your own.”
“No. She won’t let me forget what I gave up by taking Lucas as my own. But I wouldn’t change one single day. I love him more than I could ever imagine possible. I’m so glad that scoundrel Delaney never knew he got Mariah with child during their brief farce of a marriage. I don’t know what I’d do if he tried to take my boy from me.”
“I can’t wait to have a child.” Elizabeth looked wistful for a moment. “But not right away. I want to enjoy my husband first.”
“Don’t be enjoying him too much or you’ll be starting a family sooner than you think,” Rebecca warned.
Her friend blushed and looked away as a knock sounded at the door. The mulatto servant peeked inside.
“Missy, your Mama be lookin’ for ya. Says it’s bout time and you ain’t got your veil on yet. She’s a waitin’ for ya. Now’s hurry up.”
“Thank you, Tilda.” Elizabeth stood with Rebecca’s help. “I love the pale green of your dress. I wish I could wear that color, but it makes me look ill.”
She smiled. “It’s one of the few colors that work well with my hair. Besides, it’s gay and alive. I’m so sick of black bombazine that I’ve had to wear every day for the last six months.”
“I detest black and having to wear it when Grand Mama passed away.” Her friend scrunched up her nose for a second but perked up again. “I’d better go or Papa will be walking the floor. He nearly wore a hole in the carpet when Hélène got married because she wasn’t ready on time.”
“All right. I’ll see you after the ceremony.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Elizabeth stopped near the door and turned back around. “Mitchell has arranged for you to have an escort for the afternoon. His name is Jared Hollingsworth. He’s a very nice man, though not very active in the social circles. I’ve never met him so I asked Mama about him, but she couldn’t tell me very much either. He owns his own plantation and runs it without slave labor.”
Rebecca took note of that last tidbit and smiled. “Mitchell didn’t have to go to any trouble on my account.”
“Nonsense. You don’t know anyone here, and I didn’t want you to feel lonely. I want you to have a good time. Besides, I’ll be able to enjoy myself knowing you’re in good hands.”
“If it’ll make you feel better.”
“Excellent. My older brother, Josiah, will introduce you. He’ll be waiting for you downstairs. Wish me luck!”
“The best of it.” She hugged her friend, careful not to crush her beaded gown. Then she watched Elizabeth move as swiftly as she could down the hallway.
Stepping back inside the room, she closed the door and quickly pulled the folded note she’d received at the post office the day before from her reticule.
Dear Miss Davis,
Thank you for agreeing to help me in this matter. Our mutual acquaintance has assured me you will be very discreet. I will contact you shortly after your arrival. You will recognize me by the yellow rose bud in my lapel.
Your devoted servant,
Hollingsworth
When Elizabeth said the name, Rebecca had known it sounded familiar. Could her escort for today be the same Mr. Hollingsworth?
Heart fluttering, she refolded the note and tucked it securely back into the hidden pocket she’d made in the lining of her purse. She’d been so frightened taking her first road assignment from the Vigilante Committee, especially now that she had Lucas. The thought of being caught and the consequences of the crime left her weak in the knees. Nevertheless, they’d chosen her for this important job and she vowed to see it through.
She poured a small amount of water from the pitcher into the washbowl and dipped a portion of a hand towel in it. She ran the damp towel over the back of her neck to calm her nerves and closed her eyes. When her pulse settled, she took a deep breath, picked up her elbow length gloves and slowly walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway.
She stopped for a moment at the top of the wide staircase to slip on her gloves and spotted Elizabeth’s brother waiting for her at the foot. When she reached the bottom, he offered her his arm with a gentle smile and walked her through the house to the back loggia where the many guests waited on the lawn for the wedding to begin.
Arrangements of fresh flowers decorated the perimeter of the yard. In the center, a dais signified the altar. White chairs positioned in rows around the dais were available for the guests.
Outside, she noticed a very handsome man dressed in black standing alone near the back of the fashionably dressed gathering of men and women. His blond hair was pulled back at the nape in a queue, and he stood military straight with hands clasped behind his back. The string quartet began to play and he turned toward them.
Oh my goodness! He’s wearing a yellow rosebud.
Rebecca’s mind went numb. She hadn’t expected to meet her liaison at her friend’s wedding, nor that he’d be so handsome. The mere sight of him astounded her.
Josiah motioned to him and the man in question came toward them.
“Mr. Jared Hollingsworth,” Josiah said. “I’d like you to meet Miss Rebecca Davis. Miss Davis, Mr. Hollingsworth.”
Rebecca nodded appreciation to the young Mr. Calhoun and curtsied when Mr. Hollingsworth took her gloved hand in his. Tingles of awareness halted her midway, and she forced herself to rise without prolonged hesitation. His blue eyes sparkled as she boldly stared into them, mesmerized by his handsome face.
“It’s a pleasure, Miss Davis. Mr. Cooper tells me you attended Augusta Seminary with Miss Calhoun.”
“Yes, I did. Did you also attend West Point with Mr. Cooper?” she asked, still unable to look away from his ruggedly handsome face.
“Class of forty-eight.” He offered her his arm. “We’d better take our seats. The ceremony should begin soon.”
Rebecca placed her hand in the crook of his arm. Her heart pounded as she walked beside him down the aisle to the reserved seats near Elizabeth’s family members. She felt honored to be included, and oddly, she felt sensationally alive being by this stranger’s side. She couldn’t explain what had come over her, but she had never felt more at home.
Awareness of him consumed her thoughts, and she paid little attention to the wedding ceremony. Yet, when Elizabeth and Mr. Cooper sealed their vows with a kiss, she wondered how it would feel to have Mr. Hollingsworth’s lips pressed against hers and his strong arms holding her close.
Rattled, she chastised herself for her thoughts. She was in Jackson on a mission, and Mr. Hollingsworth as fortune would have it, was her cohort. There was no room for daydreaming about him, even if she did find him handsome.
Today was a day of celebration, but tomorrow would be a day of joy for a very lucky young woman. Rebecca knew what role she would play in this mission, but she couldn’t help but be curious how Mr. Hollingsworth would go about doing his part. She’d love nothing more than to discuss it with him if the opportunity arose, but it was unlikely. Neither of them could risk being overheard.
****
Jared shifted in his chair beside Miss Davis. She was the first woman with whom he’d spent company since his wife had died in childbirth three years earlier. Charisse was his first love and had been a wonderful woman. Losing her and their son had nearly killed him, but fate had been cruel and left him to bear the burden alone.
Now here he was at Mitchell’s wedding playing host to this beautiful young woman whom he couldn’t deny he found attractive. As he’d walked her to their seats, he’d overheard murmuring. One guest wanted to know why he was there and another had wanted to know who she was and why she was here with him.
He feared word had already spread through the town about cousin Rory’s latest scandal, another black mark against the Hollingsworth name. As if he needed any help spreading scandal. He’d been doing fine all by himself being branded a societ
al outcast when his father had died, and he’d taken over running Oak Hill. Plantation owners from all around Jackson rebuked him for giving his father’s slaves their freedom and hiring those that wished to stay as tenant farmers instead.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Jared stole another glance at Miss Davis. Mitchell hadn’t lied when he assured him she was beautiful. He chuckled at his good fortune to escort this stunning woman. Her auburn hair glistened in the afternoon sun like honey dripping off the wax comb, and reminded him of the young woman he’d encountered in passing at the post office the day before.
Could it be her?
His thoughts wandered back to the vision of the young woman walking down the street toward the hotel. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her face, but the memory of her slender neck, the shape of her back and trim waist, not to mention the sweet smell of her that somehow still lingered in the air, stirred something deep inside.
Could it be a coincidence that the beauty sitting beside him smelled just as sweet? That her hair shined just as bright? His interest in her perplexed him, especially when he’d initially not welcomed the request to be her escort. He had no doubt there would be competition from the other male guests to be her dance partner at the reception.
“Don’t they make a lovely couple?” Miss Davis whispered, breaking his train of thought. She wiped her eyes with a hanky.
“Yes, they are a striking pair.” He joined the applause at the end of the ceremony. Standing, he offered his arm to her again and asked, “Shall we go inside for some refreshment?”
She smiled up at him. “That would be most enjoyable.”
Music drifted from the ballroom as they approached the house. He wondered what it would feel like to have Miss Davis in his arms, her body pressed just so against him as they danced. He shook those thoughts away and focused on making small talk.
“How long will you be staying in Jackson, Miss Davis?”
“I’m not sure. Elizabeth has asked me to stay on and help her with a few social functions once she and Mr. Cooper return from their wedding tour.”
“So there is nothing pressing that insists you return to—”
“Memphis? No, not really.” Her emerald eyes sparkled as they joined the mass of guests waiting in the receiving line to bid well wishes to the newlyweds.
Jared found it strange that the beautiful young woman didn’t have suitors lined up waiting to spend time with her. Before he realized, he’d spoken his thoughts. “No suitor eagerly awaiting your return?”
“Mr. Hollingsworth!” Her cheeks pinked with color as they reached Mitchell’s parents.
While they waited to congratulate the bride and groom, Miss Davis modestly leaned closer and whispered, “In answer to your question. No. There are no suitors at present. I’ve just come out of mourning.”
He hadn’t realized she was a widow. Why had she been introduced to him as a miss? Puzzled by her remark, Jared clasped Mitchell’s hand tighter than he intended as they shook hands.
“Are things going that bad?” his friend asked, looking concerned.
“No. Not at all.” Jared released his grip before taking the bride’s hand and raising it to his lips for a kiss. “Congratulations to you both. I hope you’ll reserve at least one dance with me, Mrs. Cooper.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth cooed, reaching for Miss Davis’ hand. “Mama, this is my dearest friend from Augusta Seminary, Miss Rebecca Davis.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Calhoun. Thank you for allowing me to attend the wedding. It was absolutely beautiful,” Miss Davis said. “Mr. Calhoun.”
“Miss Davis,” Mr. Calhoun responded.
“You must be proud, Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun,” Jared greeted.
“Thank you for coming all this way to be with us today,” Mrs. Calhoun said coolly without shaking his hand.
“Mama!” the new Mrs. Cooper gasped, giving him an apologetic look and drawing further attention to the slight.
Again Jared heard murmuring behind him and decided to escort Miss Davis away from the line before she questioned the snub. “How about that refreshment now?”
She nodded, but looked confused.
He left her in a small alcove in the ballroom while he fetched punch. When he returned, he found his companion swaying to the music.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked, handing her a glass cup.
“That would be delightful.” She drank the punch, discarding the empty cup on a nearby table.
A waltz played and he offered her his hand. Ever aware of the sweet scent of her perfume, Jared pulled her as close to his body as proper. “I didn’t realize you were a widow, Mrs. Davis,” he said. “Forgive me for not extending my condolences earlier and for not addressing you properly. You should have corrected Mr. Calhoun.”
“Thank you. But I prefer to be called Miss Davis. I’m n-” she began, looking up at him. She didn’t know how to rectify his misinterpretation of why she’d been in mourning. Perhaps it will be easier to explain Lucas if I don’t correct him. But no, that wouldn’t be right. She must correct him.
“I’m n-” she tried again, but he cut her off.
“I’m a widower myself. Three years now.”
“Yo-you are?” Rebecca noticed the sorrow and pain behind his blue eyes. Is that how one looks when they’ve lost their true love?
“Then it is I who am sorry for bringing up painful memories, Mr. Hollingsworth.” She smiled, dipping and swaying around the room with his lead.
Jared shook his head. “Life goes on. We cannot dwell in the past. I’ve learned that the hard way. I’ve lived as a recluse for far too long.”
Before she could speak, the dance ended and a young man swept her away before the next reel began. Several dances and partners later, she finally returned to Mr. Hollingsworth’s arms.
“Having a good time?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, relaxing in his gentle hold as they waltzed once more.
Soon the music ended and they made their way to the refreshment table for more punch and a sampling of the wedding cake.
“Hollingsworth, good to see you,” a balding gentleman said, breaking line to refill his cup of punch. “How are things out your way?”
“Well, thank you,” Mr. Hollingsworth replied. “And yours?”
“Couldn’t be better for this time of the season though we can always use a little rain,” the man said, nodding his head in her direction. “I don’t believe we’ve met, miss?”
“Forgive my manners. George Wimple, this is Mrs. I mean Miss Rebecca Davis. She’s a close friend of the bride. Miss Davis, this is Mr. Wimple. He owns a plantation near mine.”
“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Wimple.” Rebecca greeted him with a slight curtsy and a smile.
“Same here and I hope you find Jackson to your liking. Couldn’t be a better place to live,” he said, taking a plate of cake and beginning to munch. “Though, I sometimes wonder if there is a place safe to live. A person’s property can be taken so easily. Have you heard what happened over in Macon?”
“No, I can’t say that I have,” Mr. Hollingsworth said, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. He glanced at her and smiled, though he didn’t appear pleased by the conversation.
“One of the slaves disappeared in broad daylight. She was working one minute and the next she was gone.” The man snapped his fingers for emphasis to what he said and Rebecca felt her stomach knot.
“Mercy,” she murmured, wondering if Mr. Wimple spoke of Ruth’s disappearance or another. The Vigilante Committee had several branches and she was only privy to her mission. She hoped this disappearance would not make her task of seeing Ruth safely out of Mississippi more difficult.
“Exactly, my dear,” Mr. Wimple said with a nod. “I hope they find her and find her soon and she is dealt the strictest of punishments. We don’t need word spreading amongst the plantations and causing others to attempt running off.”
The knot in her stomach tightened a
notch or two. “So you think she ran off?”
“Aye, I do.” Wimple finished his refreshment and discarded the plate, refilling his cup for one last gulp of punch. He nodded at them both before sauntering away.
“He’s a lively chap,” Mr. Hollingsworth said, offering her his arm. “Shall we go find the bride and groom?”
“Let’s do,” she said, allowing him to lead once more as they danced their way over to the newlyweds.
Rebecca admired her friend and her husband as he held her close in his arms. They looked lost in a world of their own, despite their dancing in the middle of a crowded room. They made a striking pair, with her fair coloring and his dark features.
Elizabeth looked their way as they approached.
“Rebecca, can I steal Mr. Hollingsworth away for a dance?” she asked when the music stopped for a moment.
“Of course,” Rebecca replied, stepping out of his grasp.
“Allow me.” Mr. Cooper offered her his hand in return.
As she danced with the groom, she found herself watching Mr. Hollingsworth instead of paying attention to her partner. She admired Mr. Hollingsworth’s profile and then his back, amazed how the cloth of his clothes stretched and relaxed over his solid form as he moved. Realizing she’d been staring at him, she chastised herself and lost her footing, stepping on Mr. Cooper’s boot.
“Oh dear! Clumsy me,” she exclaimed apologetically. “I’m so sorry.”
“Wool gathering will do that,” Mr. Cooper replied. Her cheeks burned and he chuckled, dancing them closer to Elizabeth and Mr. Hollingsworth before smoothly changing partners.
“Oh my!” Rebecca gasped with delight, finding herself once again in Mr. Hollingsworth’s strong arms.
“Couldn’t be without your bride that long, Mitchell?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked.
“Neither would you if you were just married,” Mr. Cooper said, giving a wink.
