Promise Me Forever

by Janelle Taylor

  The photographer changed their positions a last time, placing them side by side on a longer velvet seat. As they moved, they exchanged quick smiles. Their bodies touched and warmed, their scents mingled and enticed, their spirits tempted and taunted and tormented.

  When the session was over, Dan paid the photographer and ordered the best copy of each pose for both of them.

  “I’ll hae them at yer hotel by Sunday. Check with tha desk clerk. If there be a problem, dinna hesitate ta contact me.”

  “I’m certain they’ll be perfect,” Dan assured him.

  “Thank you,” Rachel added before they departed.

  As Dan paid the carriage driver, Rachel stared at the enormous Palladian Georgian home, awed by its size and beauty.

  A servant answered Dan’s knock at the door. The immaculately clad man with excellent manners bowed, welcomed them, and ushered them inside a lengthy hallway. He took Rachel’s shawl, then escorted them to go, into an oversize drawing room.

  Dan and Rachel paused beneath an archway sided by fluted pilasters. As with the outside, rococo detailing was used inside on the woodwork. The drawing room extended the length of the house, but was skillfully separated into three areas by a series of columns to match those at the entrance and archways. There was no mistaking the craftsmanship and designs of Chippendale furnishings, again in the rococo style. The decor was obviously done by someone with superb taste and plenty of money.

  “It’s breathtaking,” Rachel murmured to her companion, who agreed emphatically.

  The sitting areas were filled with guests. George had told them there would be forty tonight. A talented female played a piano in the center section, sending forth soft music into the well-lighted setting.

  George and Molly Sue Leathers came forward with the Powers to greet them. “May I introduce your host and hostess, James and Jane Powers? This is Rachel McCandless, Mrs. Phillip McCandless, wife of my business partner. This fine gentleman is her cousin, Captain Daniel Slade from Charleston, who owns his own ship and business.”

  Pleasantries were exchanged, then Rachel complimented, “Your home is the loveliest I have ever seen. Thank you for having us here tonight. It was most kind of you to accept George’s request to include us.”

  “Please make yourselves comfortable. Ask for whatever you desire. Meet everyone and enjoy yourselves. Dinner will be served at eight.”

  “There are plenty of people for you to meet,” George said. “Come, and let me introduce you to some of them before dinner is announced.”

  Rachel took her place and looked around the table to see who was sitting with her and Dan—all twelve appeared important and wealthy people, all were nice and charming. She was relieved.

  A bevy of servers and butlers bustled around three tables. Red and white wines, coffee, tea, and water were poured into an assortment of crystal glasses at each plate. The menu was thorough and delicious. To avoid having to pass along and possibly spill something, the servants brought around each choice for the guests’ selection. Tiny silver bells sat before each plate to ring for another helping or assistance.

  Dan observed Rachel’s conduct and found her charming, well bred, and an excellent conversationalist: a southern belle to the finest degree of training. She knew how to behave in this opulent setting, and looked the perfect image of a lady.

  Dan continued to watch her from the corner of his eye as she dined and chatted with those nearby. She seemed to be having a marvelous time. Her olive complexion had a glow of health, merriment, and selfconfidence. He wished she didn’t look so ravishing and radiant, as it made her too distracting and appealing. The more he was around her and the more he learned about her, the more he was confused. He had met devious, scheming, and heartless types before. How could Rachel conceal those traits so expertly and without dropping clues to expose her true nature? As she had said earlier, no matter how clever an evil person was, one couldn’t hide a true self from everyone and all the time… It was frustrating to entice her physically closer while trying to stay distanced emotionally. He couldn’t allow himself to forget his behavior was only an entrapping fantasy. He just wished his chore weren’t becoming so difficult.

  While after-dinner liqueurs were being served in the drawing room, the men enjoyed their pipes and cigars, and people gathered in groups to converse, Rachel excused herself to visit the powder room.

  Before she could rejoin Dan near the piano, she was halted by Jane Powers and a stranger near the archway.

  “This gentleman wants to meet you, Rachel. His name is Harold Seymour; he’s here with his aunt. He’s taken with your beauty and charm, my dear, but I’ve warned this smitten bachelor that you’re married.”

  “You do me an injustice, Jane,” the neatly dressed man drawled in a thick Southern accent. “I told you, this lady looks familiar to me, and I haven’t had the opportunity to make her acquaintance yet.”

  Jane laughed and sent him an incredulous look. “Harold, this is Rachel McCandless, Mrs. Phillip McCandless, from Savannah. Her husband is the partner of George Leathers.”

  “Ah, yes, the lovely Mrs. McCandless from Savannah. Now I know why your face is familiar. You’ve had quite an interesting life, Rachel. As a newspaper reporter, I’ve read many articles about you and your adventures. Would you do me the honor of granting me an interview?”

  Rachel was caught off guard. How dare he mention something so private and embarrassing—and revealing—in such a luxurious, social setting! How dare he use her first name in that intimate and suggestive tone!

  “Rachel is famous?” Jane Powers inquired, showing great interest.

  Rachel sent her a fake smile and said, “I’m afraid not, Jane. My husband is the important one in our family. I was simply mentioned in stories about him.” Before she could try to extricate herself further from the alarming situation, one of the guests summoned Jane to answer a question.

  Rachel focused on the newspaper man to bring his damaging idea to an instant stop. “An interview with me, Mr. Seymour, would be dull and useless to you. Besides,” she continued sternly when he tried to interrupt and persist, “I do not grant them to anyone. I’m afraid I haven’t met many reporters who write the truth as the person involved relates it. Most have been rude, aggressive, and insensitive. I try to stay clear of such men, as my life is private, not a tasty treat for public consumption.”

  Harold had his eyes glued to hers. “Ah, yes, protection of privacy would be important to a beautiful and famous lady like yourself, but—”

  “It is, Mr. Seymour, and thank you for the compliment. If you’ll excuse me, I must be leaving. It’s late, and I have an early train to catch in the morning. I must thank my host and hostess and bid them farewell.”

  “Are you sure you can’t spend a few moments with me tonight or in the morning before you depart?” he wheedled. “I won’t be rude or callous. I find your story utterly fascinating and the gossip surrounding you misinformed. Isn’t it past time you tell your side and call a halt to nasty rumors?”

  Rachel did not smile as she responded, “No, Mr. Seymour. I neither have the time nor the inclination to do so. Good night and good-bye.”

  Rachel walked to Jane and James Powers. She waited until they finished their talk, then said, “It’s time for me to leave. The evening was delightful. Thank you for including me and my cousin. If you visit Savannah, please allow me to repay your hospitality and kindness.”

  They chatted for a moment, then parted. Rachel’s eager gaze located Dan. He appeared to be enjoying himself and having no problem in this formal setting. She presumed he had come from a wealthy and refined family and had training and plenty of practice in the social graces. She went to Dan and told him she was ready to leave.

  Dan knew she was upset and in a hurry to escape from what had appeared to be an unpleasant and apprehensive chat with a man across the room. He had asked the gentleman with him for the intruder’s identity. The moment he learned it was a newspaper reporter, Dan assumed the
man had recognized the “Beautiful Black Widow” from Savannah and was harassing her. It was obvious she had handled the man with expertise, but he didn’t want to give Seymour another chance to expose her. “I’m ready. I need fresh air, exercise, and sleep,” he said.

  Dan paced his room as he made plans. He had to put his romantic ploy in motion tomorrow, convince her he was falling in love with her.

  Chapter 7

  As Rachel dressed for her breakfast with Dan, she prayed she wouldn’t run into Harold Seymour. She hoped he wouldn’t check with the hotel clerk to make certain she’d told the truth about leaving. Being caught in a lie would make the aggressive reporter more curious and bold, as he already aroused her suspicions. He could have seen her arrive, recognized her, and, hungry for a juicy story, searched her room and left those two notes to make her susceptible to his interview request. If he didn’t pester her again, she would ascribe last night’s meeting to coincidence, which would mean she hadn’t unmasked her tormentor.

  For a while she had suspected her stepfather of spying on her and perpetrating all the insidious deeds. White Cloud wasn’t too far from Savannah and Augusta for him to make quick trips to harass her as always. She had discarded that angle, though, as Earl Starger had been very direct with his wicked desires in the past. So, she mused, who did that leave?

  The more she was with Daniel Slade, the more she was tempted and persuaded to trust him. She told herself she mustn’t confuse his emotional threat with a physical one. Perhaps she would learn enough about him if she become more—but carefully—responsive to him.

  If that inquisitive reporter came around and asked revealing questions, how would she explain her dark past and lies to Dan? Yet it would be too suspicious to everyone, including Dan, if she made a sudden change in departure plans.

  She met Dan in the lobby. “Did you rise early again this morning?” she asked.

  “Always, Rachel; it’s in my blood. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes I did, and I needed it. Wasn’t the dinner party marvelous?”

  “I had a splendid time. But I always have a good time with you. I’m going to miss you, Rachel, when I ship out again. I’m afraid I’ll be hard pressed to find such perfect company and good friendship elsewhere.”

  “Hard-to-please man, are you?” she teased, warmed by his words.

  “One of those flaws you haven’t noticed yet.”

  “Being discriminating isn’t a flaw, Dan. What’s more precious than one’s time, pleasures, and friendships?”

  “You’re right, woman. It’s a strength, not a weakness.”

  “I wouldn’t imagine you have many, if any, weaknesses.”

  “You’d be surprised to learn I probably have plenty of them.”

  Rachel laughed. “That’s a sneaky way of not admitting to having any.”

  “I should have left out probably, because I do have some.”

  “Such as?” she probed, unwisely sealing her gaze to his.

  Dan imprisoned it. “No way will I expose them to you, woman.”

  “Why not? How else can I get to know you better?”

  “With you as such a good influence, maybe they’ll vanish, so there’s no need to tell you about them to hold against me later.”

  “I would never hold anything against you, Dan. People change over time, and hopefully for the better.”

  “You don’t, Rachel.”

  She was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “How could perfection be improved?”

  “Perfection? Me? Surely you jest. Or you don’t know me well.”

  “I hope to by the time we return to Savannah. If not, it won’t be my fault or from a lack of trying.”

  “I wonder if you like me as much if you really knew me?”

  “What a crazy question,” he said.

  “I’m on my best behavior, of course. When I’m not …” She grinned and left her brazen implication dangling in midair.

  “So that’s it, you’re a skilled actress who’s pretending to like me.”

  “Certainly not. Of course I like you, Daniel Slade. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Because I’m Phillip’s friend and you’re a well-bred young lady?”

  “Certainly not. I like you because you’re nice and fun to be with, because you’re a real gentleman and I can trust you.”

  “I’m a gentleman only because it’s necessary with a friend’s wife. If you weren’t married to’ Phillip McCandless…” He left his suggestion hanging.

  “You wouldn’t be a gentleman around me?” she quipped.

  “That isn’t exactly what I meant,” he replied, looking embarrassed.

  “If I weren’t married, Daniel Slade, I wouldn’t be a lady around you.”

  The waiter intruded at that moment and silenced their provocative words.

  George and Molly Sue came to fetch them and they traveled for a few miles on the road toward Washington, Georgia, chatting about the party and the guests. When they arrived at their destination, George drove slowly so the couple could get a good view of the impressive driveway that was lined with majestic magnolias, some in bloom with their eight-inch shell-shaped flowers. At the far end of the drive stood a square, two-story house with white pillars around all sides, a gallery that encircled the second floor, and a cupola atop the roof.

  When the carriage halted, the Berckmans came to greet them. They were shown into the house with its thick cement walls that held in winter heat and kept out summer blazes. They chatted for a while with the Belgian family, then left with Prosper on a tour of world-famous Fruitland Nurseries.

  They enjoyed walking among the flowering trees and colorful bushes. Bees darted here and there, collecting nectar. Graceful butterflies fluttered around the countless blossoms and cheerful strollers. Birds sang and flitted about. Brown thrashers searched among dead leaves for bugs and worms, rapidly tossing debris in all directions during their task. The day was clear and sunny, and Rachel and Dan were at ease for a while.

  They returned to the house to share tea and small cakes with the family. When it was time to leave for their next activity, she and Dan thanked their host and departed with the Leathers.

  A mile down the road, George asked Rachel if she wanted to stop to purchase honey from a beekeeper, some of the best in the state.

  “That’s sounds wonderful, George,” she said. “Thank you.”

  George halted the carriage on the edge of the dirt road. Rachel and Dan walked to the wooden stand to make their purchases from an elderly gentleman. Rachel bought a case of six jars, while Dan bought two cases to take to his ship. He paid for all three.

  “You must like honey,” she commented.

  “I love it. When you’re happy and relaxed, it’s the same color as your eyes,” he remarked as he accepted his change and waited for their order to be placed in crates. “I’ve never seen that shade before, sort of a pale golden brown with a very dark ring encasing them.”

  “I get this color from my father’s side of the family, the Flemings. I take after them. I don’t favor Mama or her side. She has blond hair and green eyes. Even at forty-five she’s beautiful and slender and looks my age.”

  The packaging was finished. Dan lifted the small crates with ease.

  “Yours are the color of the deepest sea,” she said.

  “Do honey and water mix?” he asked with a roguish grin.

  She couldn’t answer, because they reached the carriage and because she couldn’t think of a clever response to the romantic query. He noticed so much about everything, including her. That both pleased and panicked Rachel.

  Dan placed the cases on the floor between them and the carriage left.

  “You two get along well,” George remarked. “It’s nice to see families and kin who are so close.”

  Rachel and Dan exchanged guilty looks, then conspiratorial smiles.

  “Yes, sir,” Dan murmured. “We do get along better than most people. Cousin Rachel and I are best friends. We have a
long history together.”

  “I hope you get back this way again soon, Dan. We’ve enjoyed your company,” Molly Sue told him.

  They headed to the city parade grounds, which were composed of ten acres with a group of trees near the center. Wagons and carriages were parked along the four streets and people milled around, chatting and laughing.

  “Winter is our season to play baseball, because harvest is over and it’s still mild here. The team gathers one Saturday a month to practice during the spring and summer. Men and older boys from town make up the opposing team. It’s fun and relaxing to come over and watch. We usually have a picnic afterward. It draws the community closer together.”

  Molly Sue handed the two men quilts for them to sit on to observe the practice and to join the merriment. As they strolled across the grassy lot toward the gathering of people and players, George made a shocking but unintentional revelation to Rachel and Dan.

  “Phillip loves baseball and horse racing season. We have our races in the winter, too, at the Lafayette Course south of town. Gamblers of all ages and sexes visit during that time. I’m not a gambling man, but Phillip surely loves to place bets. He even likes to wager on the cockfights and billiard tables. We have a few gambling establishments, but I don’t frequent them. I’ve always let Phillip go alone or with others. Hard-earned money is too valuable to toss away on games and horses. I’ve seen Phillip almost lose his shirt some days,” he chuckled.

  “I didn’t realize Phillip liked to gamble,” Rachel murmured.

  “Oh, my, have I talked out of the wrong side of my mouth?”

  “Don’t worry, George, I won’t tell him you mentioned it. There are certain pleasures we women shouldn’t interfere with, right, Molly Sue?”

  “You’re a smart woman, Rachel,” she complimented, then frowned at her husband in a way that told him to keep silent on the matter.

  Gambling? A regular bet maker? Phillip McCandless? Enough to be an expensive and hazardous weakness? Enough to lose… Rachel didn’t want to ponder those possibilities any further at the moment.