“Hattie’s just talking, Ellie. She is just trying to make trouble, and she is overstepping her boundaries.”
Mary looked at Hattie, and the older woman nodded her head slowly.
“You all keep me out of it,” Hattie said, “if you know so much.”
“Hattie!” Eleanor exclaimed. “Do you know what Mary knows?”
“I don’t know anything but my feelings, and my own feelings say that horse is poison. Anything that man touches is poison. Rosamond will be next. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Hattie,” Mary chastised, “Eleanor is going to marry this man. You need to mind your place.”
Hattie went about the room, straightening up. She closed her lips firmly over her teeth and said nothing more, but Eleanor understood her silence. Her silence meant Eleanor was a traitor to Nathaniel. A betrayer to Rosamond, the Negroes, and her, and it was how Eleanor felt. The beautiful mare was only a bandage to the pain. It would do nothing to heal her hurts or mistrust of the man she was soon to call her husband.
Mary dropped her needles to her lap. “Very well. I will not tell you the exact knowledge I carry, but I will tell you Andrew is not what he seems. That is not to say I think he is of poor character however. I believe he would make a fine husband for you, Eleanor.” Mary looked at Hattie with a scowl. “Would you like it if she should be a spinster like me, Hattie? Nathaniel certainly isn’t fit to marry. He hasn’t two pennies to his name and no more right to Woodacre than you or I. Would you rather she marry him?”
“Yes.” Hattie had clearly had enough and bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Eleanor had never silenced Hattie in the past, and Mary’s insolence because of Hattie’s color obviously perturbed the elder woman to no end. And with good cause. Eleanor had always been taught to respect Hattie and that, no matter what happened, Hattie would always tell her the truth.
“That woman has more nerve.” Mary sighed and looked at her cousin. “I think you should marry Andrew without reservation. I must admit, when I first stepped out of our carriage and saw Rosamond’s grounds again, I thought only of you and Nathaniel together. I was so charmed by the memories of Nathaniel. But I know he can’t be the same man any longer. California would have changed him. Poverty has changed him.”
“Who is to say I want Nathaniel?” Eleanor crossed her arms defiantly, hoping to keep her heart to herself, but her cousin continued.
“Eleanor, haven’t you lived a poor life long enough? The Yankees have done their damage, but Andrew has triumphed. Don’t you want to share in that? To see Rosamond transformed into its former glory with its fine furnishings and lavish luxuries? Andrew has the means to do all of that. Nathaniel doesn’t.”
Did her cousin know her so little to think she thought of such trifles? Surely Mary knew honor and love were far more important than material goods. “I should think I have more character than to worry only about pretty gowns and fine furniture.”
“Of course you do. You also care about the former slaves. You don’t want to see them abandoned, do you? Combining Rosamond and Woodacre—”
“Is exactly what the Federals are trying to halt. President Johnson wants to limit the size of farms so that slavery is abolished completely, including the black codes. Combining the plantations will put us under a Yankee microscope.”
“It will also make you rich enough not to care, and you know it.”
Eleanor did know it. Marrying Andrew was by far the easiest way to help the Negroes, but Hattie’s words haunted her. What would God have her do? He would want her to help the slaves, wouldn’t He? As much as she desired Nathaniel, that didn’t make it God’s will.
“I’m going to accept the horse, Mary. I want to ride today without a care in the world. I want to see the countryside and forget all these problems today.”
Eleanor started down the stairs and met her fiancé’s gaze with a happy grin. His mount stood beside hers, and she suddenly felt trapped.
“I was hoping to get to know my horse today,” she said by way of excuse.
“Well Eleanor,” Andrew stammered, “it has only been a week since you fell. I’d like to be certain you are up to the ride. Besides, it isn’t safe for you to be alone. A chaperone is quite necessary.”
“I shan’t go far. I will return before lunch—I promise.”
She stepped on the foot ladder to her new mare and proudly trotted away against Andrew’s protests. As soon as the shade trees covered her, she clicked the horse into a full gallop and streamed like the Mississippi. She pulled her hair from its net and shook it out so it fell down her back. The wind on her face, the scent of the magnolia, the bright green of new grass—all caused a stirring sensation within her. Every part of her felt alive and refreshed. As long as she had these moments of freedom, she could endure anything.
The sound of hooves met her ears, and Eleanor’s heart sank. Andrew had followed her, taking her dreamy state far away. She pulled her horse under a magnolia and stayed there, hoping Andrew would pass her by and leave her to relish her solitary ride. Her breath was labored from her run, but she patted her new friend and spoke softly to her. They were going to get along well.
The hooves sounded closer, and Eleanor tried to act as though she were only taking a rest for a moment should Andrew happen upon her. She looked up at the grand magnolia and remembered as a child her days running under these trees. She and Mary and Nathaniel would have a rousing game of hide-and-seek while Andrew looked for snails and other such discoveries. The oncoming horse slowed its pace, and Eleanor’s stomach lurched joyfully at the sight of Nathaniel.
She dismounted from her horse, as did he, and she ran toward him, clutching him for what would probably be the last time. Without thinking, she kissed his rough face, running her hands over his jaw. “Nathaniel. Take me away from here.” Where such bold words had come from, she did not know, but she meant them, every one.
Her words shot through him like a bullet, for he pulled back quickly. “Eleanor, don’t say such scandalous things.”
“We shall be married,” she said, breaking every law of womanhood her mother had so laboriously taught her. “I shall become the perfect preacher’s wife, Nathaniel. I will learn to cook and clean and keep a proper house. We shall find a nice little parish somewhere and settle.”
“Ellie,” he whispered her name. By his eyes she knew he wanted to kiss her, and she made the most of his moment of weakness. She placed her lips on his and felt the firm line of his lips return her kiss with vigor.
Again he pulled away. “Ellie, stop it! You were born to live this way on a great estate. Even the Yankees can see that. They’ve allowed your home to stand. They’ve moved upriver because they know you belong here. The Essex dared not interfere with you—how shall I?” Nathaniel said, referring to the gunboat that had attacked their fair city long ago. “I only ask that you stay here on Rosamond, but do not marry my brother.”
“Tell me what you’ve learned, Nathaniel. Tell me why you’ve come back to me. Why you would wish for me to be alone forever.”
“I don’t wish for you to be alone. I just ask that you not marry my brother. I’d rather see you marry a Northerner.”
“Tell me why.”
“I cannot.”
“Then I shall marry Andrew.” Eleanor crossed her arms, but she broke under Nathaniel’s gaze and fell into his broad chest. He smelled of the river, but she didn’t care. She knew this might be the last time she ever held him again. “Take me with you, Nathaniel. Please.”
She looked up into his hazel eyes, which were filled with tears. He tried to blink them away but could not, and she triumphed in thinking that she was breaking him. More tears appeared on the horizon of his gold-flecked eyes with each closure. “I cannot take you,” he said again.
“My father will make me marry him, Nathaniel. If you leave, you leave me with Andrew. I’ll have no other options to me. The black codes will be employed on Rosamond as well as Woodacre, and you wil
l run from it. For once, Nathaniel, I ask you to be the man I know you to be.”
He clutched her arms tightly. “Do you think I’m weak, Ellie? Do you think it’s easy for me to leave knowing whom I leave you to? I leave because I’m strong, Ellie. And it’s not my strength that propels me; it’s His.”
“But you’ll still leave.” Eleanor couldn’t mask her scowl. This wasn’t about getting her way. This was about their future. The legacy of their family estates. “You think Andrew is a better choice for running Woodacre than you.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. My father has chosen.”
“Your father didn’t choose. Your father was never given the chance, Nathaniel. You left him no choice when you packed up for California. Give him a choice now. For all our sakes. Mary knows something of Andrew; you know something of him. All of you keep your secrets while you leave me as the sacrifice.”
“Better I leave you than stay. That you resent me now rather than later when we must raise our children in the washhouse, with only a spinning wheel and loom as our furnishings. When you have a baby on your hip and an iron in your hand, would you still find me so wonderful? I have nothing to offer you, Ellie.”
“You have yourself, Nathaniel. Why does everyone think I care for things? I watched the Yankees take most of them, and I survived. I did not wilt at the first sign of poverty.”
“You know nothing of poverty, Ellie. Poverty is not eating corn bread rather than biscuits because there is no flour to be had. Poverty is not having the corn bread at all.”
“You think I’m a spoiled child.”
“I think you are wonderful,” he said, grazing her cheek with his hand. “But I also believe you offer more to Rosamond without me. The Negroes will come under the black codes, and things will be as they were. Not enough food in the cookhouse, no hoecakes for the workers, nothing. Is that what you would have?”
“That has nothing to do with my marrying you, Nathaniel!”
“It has everything to do with it. Do you think your father will be happy with such a marriage? When you might be mistress of a great house like Woodacre?”
“I do not think my father would make me choose.”
“Then you are naive. I’m not willing to take the chance with your future. Your father has made his opinions of my character well known. I’ll not gamble with your life as well as my own.”
“I’ll marry a Yankee if need be, but I will not stay without you. The Negroes have been fending for themselves for a long time, and they can continue to do so. Once I’m married, there’s nothing you or anyone else can do to undo it. Let it be on your conscience, Nathaniel! I won’t do what’s best for me. Nor will I live by your will or my father’s. For once I’ll do as I please.”
Eleanor mounted her horse like a man, not caring for propriety’s sake any longer. She kicked the horse and was off, blinded by her tears.
Chapter 11
Eleanor bent low on her horse, racing alongside the Mississippi against its fierce current. The thunderous shelling began in her head again. Her mind brought back the fearful attack by the Yankee gunboat Essex. All that the Yankees succeeded in doing that day was killing a young girl, Rosalie. How the town mourned her loss. Northerners invaded that day, and Natchez allowed it without protest.
Eleanor didn’t plan to surrender so easily to her own battle. She would disappear from sight before she went back willingly. Something about Andrew was dark, yet no one would tell her what. Marrying him to find out his secret frightened her to no end. How could Nathaniel tell her not to marry his brother but not tell her why? It felt cruel.
The bustling port of Natchez came into view as she pushed her way through Water Street. The river was to her right; the great bluff to her left. She was officially Under-the-Hill without a chaperone. A rush of excitement pulsed through her. She slowed her horse and tried to appear nonchalant. But as she approached the wharves and warehouses, it was readily apparent a woman in riding clothes was not a typical sight along the rough-hewn streets.
Men shouted obscenities, showing their terribly boorish manners, but Eleanor held her chin high, ignoring them all. The sound of horses’ hooves closed around her, and feeling surrounded, her confidence waned. She casually picked up her pace, heading toward the piers where countless ships were docking. Being without a chaperone suddenly didn’t feel so freeing. She hoped to meet someone who might recognize her. Surely there would be people of society there traveling—someone who might help her find her way on the pier.
The wooden structure jutted out from the banks of the river, hanging ominously over the water. Eleanor knew of the countless deaths associated with life on the river, but she took faith in the fact that she had survived the war.
In her blue merino gown with the white bodice, she suddenly felt improper with no hoop as she jumped from her horse. She held tightly to the reins, trying to ignore the eyes staring at her. A huge man, wearing an open cotton shirt that showed more than it hid, started toward her; and Eleanor straightened herself to appear taller than she was. Her effort was to no avail since the man still stood more than a full foot above her. His arms were so enormous that they looked like the flanks of a horse, and Eleanor gulped, preparing for his approach.
“Horses ain’t allowed on the pier, miss. They scare the livestock, not to mention the travelers. What’s your business here?” He took her horse and tied it to a nearby pole.
“I’m looking for passage up the river.” She unconsciously smoothed her skirt. “Are you in possession of a boat?”
The big man laughed but stopped when he realized she was serious. “Where’s your lady’s maid? You don’t look like the type to be traveling alone. You running from home, little girl?”
“I am not a little girl. I’m looking for passage up the river. If you cannot help me, would you kindly point me in the right direction where I might purchase a ticket?”
“Missy, there ain’t a flatboat or ship out there that will take you out of Natchez. Somebody’s going to be looking for you, and we don’t like questions down here at the docks. You just run back home before you cause any trouble.”
Eleanor’s heart pounded in protest. She had not come this far to be turned away. She didn’t care how big this man was.
“I can pay you.” She fingered the gold bracelet on her arm and let the sun catch its sparkle. “This bracelet was my mother’s, one of the only possessions left after the war. It’s very expensive. I’m sure it would bring in a tidy sum.”
The giant man came toward her. “Missy, this is a dangerous place for a woman alone. You just take your pretty mare and find your way back home.”
She shook her head. “It’s more dangerous for me there. I’m engaged to a man I fear is dangerous,” she blurted out, pressing her fingers to her mouth. “Will you help me? I’ll find a way to pay you if you’re not interested in the bracelet, though I don’t see why you wouldn’t be.”
The burly sailor laughed again, not mean-spirited, but jovial. “I think that fiancé of yours has reason to fear for himself. Looks like he found himself quite a keg of gun powder.”
Eleanor crossed her arms. “I’m quite capable, sir, much more so than I look. The home guard ran screaming before the Yankees pulled me from my home.”
“I don’t doubt it, miss.”
The big man tipped his hat, focusing behind her. “Nathaniel.”
Eleanor turned to see Nathaniel waiting beside her.
“This a friend of yours?” the man asked, nodding toward her.
“You two know each other?” Eleanor asked, feeling as if she had been betrayed yet again. Just her luck on an entire dock to find a friend of Nathaniel’s.
The two men smiled at each other.
“Jeremiah and I met yesterday,” Nathaniel said.
“Well, run along now.” Eleanor shooed him away with her hand.
“Ellie, I am not leaving you here alone. Jeremiah has work to do. Let’s go.”
“Why are you following me
?” she demanded, grasping his shirt in her frustration. “You’ve made your intentions known, so leave me be! If you won’t help me, I’m determined to help myself!” Her father would simply see her flight to freedom as an immediate need for her marriage, so there was no going back now.
“Did you think I’d just let you run to Natchez Under-the-Hill alone?” Nathaniel laughed. “Really, you must think better of me than that.”
He grasped her waist and turned toward her negotiating partner. “This is my brother Andrew’s fiancée. Jeremiah Coleman, may I present Miss Eleanor Senton.”
“Nice to know you, miss.” The brawny gentleman tipped his hat again.
“A pleasure,” Eleanor said flatly.
“She’s quite pleasant when she gets her way,” Nathaniel said.
Just then Eleanor had an idea that bubbled to her mouth without her giving it thought. “Mr. Coleman, could you take Nathaniel and me upriver? I’m sure my bracelet would allow for both of us, would it not?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Miss Senton, as I told you before, I’m not taking anyone’s fiancée away from town. Not to mention some high-falutin’ daughter of a wealthy plantation owner. What Nathaniel does is his business, but I’m havin’ no part in this scheme of yours.”
She turned in desperation to Nathaniel. “Please, Nathaniel. This is our chance. Run with me and don’t look back.” She clutched his hands. “You’ll have your dream of being a preacher, and I’ll find some way to help the Negroes up North. Come with me.”
Eleanor tugged on Nathaniel’s hands, but the firmness in his stance dictated he was not moving.
Jeremiah did her a service by looking away and pretending not to overhear her pathetic attempts to woo a man into marriage. She peered into Nathaniel’s eyes with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please, Nathaniel,” she murmured. “I’ll be a good wife.”
He pulled her closer by her waist, whispering in her ear. “I love you, Ellie. With all my heart I love you. That’s why I need to take you back.”
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