Bluegrass Blush

by Carolyn Bond

  That last thing he needed right now was to play social curiosity to Mrs. Clark. He needed to figure out what to do to keep his home. Without the estate, there would be nowhere to hide. The authorities would step in and he could not bear that.

  He decided a good ride on the fastest horse he owned would clear his mind and help him think. He strode to the stable and saddled his horse. He would have had a stable boy, but he had to be careful about who and how many people were on his land. The few that were there he had either brought with him from Louisville when he moved or he paid them dearly for their tight lips. He pulled the strap to tighten the saddle and swung himself up. The majestic thoroughbred whinnied and pranced. He was a built for racing with long muscular legs but had the temper of wasp. He really didn’t feel good unless he was running at full sprint.

  Malcolm bought General at an auction when he was a yearling. He named him General after the great steam engine in the Civil War that the Union captured to thwart the movement of goods for the Confederates. The steam engine Texas gave pursuit in a race and eventually the General ran out of wood for the engine and would not let the Union get away with it. Granted, running out of wood is a practicality, but Malcolm liked to think the General refused to move being the rebel train it was.

  Malcolm pulled the reins and kicked his heels mildly. That was all it took. General shot from the yard and down the dirt path beside the rows of blowing corn now six feet tall. Malcolm raised his back end up off the saddle to give the horse freedom to let loose. Wind whipped his face and he had to squint his eyes. He felt like he was flying over the corn and from a distance he probably looked like he was since the horse would be obscured.

  The estate was 200 acres with the house sitting on one side. Fields and fields of corn, tobacco, potatoes, and wheat grew. Malcolm had field hands that lived on the back of the property to help him harvest and never came to the house. The rich dark soil with limestone minerals turns seeds into gold. The estate more than paid for itself and he was able to set aside an amount for saving.

  As the horse dashed and pulled, Malcom wondered if there was any way he could just buy the property out right. The title specifically stipulated the land was to go back to the federal government if there were no more blood heirs. He knew the government had no use for it and would turn around and sell it to the highest bidder.

  But there is a blood heir, damn it!

  ***

  Everleigh wrung her hands as she sat on the side porch. The last thing she wanted to do was sit at a dinner table with Malcolm and his secret wife. The thought made her sick at her stomach. What was Suzanne thinking? Why did she have to involve her? There was no way of getting out of it.

  A tall man in a cream suit stepped out of a carriage that pulled up. He brushed his coat down and carried a small bag. His white blond hair was combed perfectly with a part at the side and jaunty angled sideburns. He took a big breath and puffed out his chest. He looked like he was about to be heard or know why. Everleigh wondered what was going on his mind. What did people in this time worry about? There was no terrorism or Zika viruses, even the White House and the President seemed far away. It almost seemed like a person could actually just worry about normal things, whatever normal things were. She looked down trying to figure out what one would worry about if they didn’t have all the problems of life in 2016.

  “Everleigh? There you are. Just who I was looking for.”

  He said this, not with the tone of a friend calling, but like someone slightly miffed they had to track you down.

  Everleigh looked up surprised, obviously he knew her, or at least knew the old Everleigh. She, however, had no idea who he was or why he would be annoyed.

  She stood and, as she had learned, offered her hand knuckles up in greeting. Not knowing what to say, she stammered.

  “Uh, uh, yes, here I am! And how are you doing?”

  She smiled pleasantly, hoping that would pass as a greeting, and looked up into his eyes. It dawned on her he called her Everleigh. He must be very familiar. He couldn’t be family because she had found out her aunt was her only family. Who else would call her by her first name? That was frowned on, men calling ladies by their first name, unless they were married or… oh god, unless they were betrothed.

  Her breath caught in her throat. She looked over his translucent skin which nearly had a bluish tinge and his watery blue eyes. The fact that he looked like he lived underground could have been overlooked but his expression had a downright domineering tone. He was smirking. It was like it was a game and he’d won.

  “How am I doing? Is that what you ask? Hm. Did you think you could take off and I wouldn’t find you?” He laughed sarcastically and put his hand on her bicep, looking to see if anyone could see them and then jerked her toward the back of the porch to a wicker love seat.

  “Ow!” She let out as the pain of his fingers digging into her arm shot through her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Shhh! You’ll not make a scene. I have come for what is rightfully mine.”

  The words hit Everleigh like a smack in the face.

  Rightfully his?

  “Apparently by the look on your face, you are not charmed to see me. No matter. It would have been easier if you were,” he trailed off. And then, “But anyway. In time you will learn to be at least respectful of my … demands.”

  Everleigh was nearly sick now. Her stomach roiled into a thick knot. She tried to scoot away from him but he put his arm on her wrist and smiled a sickly grin.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about, but I am not doing anything with you!”

  He chuckled and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out a folded set of papers and held them out to her, but just before she took them he snatched them away.

  “No, no! I’m not letting anything happen to these papers. They are worth gold!” He laughed out loud. “That’s funny. Gold.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Everleigh, stop this idiotic game where you act like you have had a blow to the head. I will marry you, this very day,” he looked around at the shadows of twilight creeping up, “or perhaps tomorrow, either is good. But I will marry you and take you back to Charleston on the next stage.”

  “What makes you think I will marry you?” Her mouth contorted in disgust.

  “For one thing, these papers that bound you to me fifteen years ago. You can’t think I am going to walk away from that do you? Besides,” he got a cartoonish sympathetic expression pulling his face into a frown, “you are all alone.” His face resumed the sardonic smile. “Anything could happen to you. You need me to take care of you.”

  That was it! She wasn’t listening to one more minute of this craziness. She stood and crossed her arms.

  “I’ll have you know am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you boor!”

  He laughed at her. As though she was a little girl stamping her foot demanding to not take a bath. He laughed at her and shook his head.

  “Anyway, my darling soon-to-be bride, perhaps you could,” he entertained the thought, “but according to the betrothal papers, if you do not marry me, your parents fortune will be taken from you and the courts will decide where it goes. So you see, we are in the same boat.”

  He continued, “I don’t like you, but I want your money and you don’t like me, but you want your money. So you will marry me and both of us will go on just like most married couples.”

  She stood there aghast. What an outright cad! He admitted he didn’t like her. How could he not like her? She was beautiful. Was the other Everleigh hateful? She could understand if he just wasn’t in love with her but, seriously, how could he dislike her?

  “You don’t like me?” she stammered.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath like having to explain the obvious to a child and his patience was gone.

  “Everleigh, dear, I am sure the death of your parents has been hard on you. I’m not totally insensitive. But, you have know
n for quite some time that, I will probably never forgive you for getting in the way of me and Cherise being together.”

  Deep horizontal furrows appeared on her forehead. Her legs trembled at all this and she eased herself down onto the seat.

  She looked at him quizzically trying to get this straight, “So, you don’t like me because you really want to be with this Cherise, but you can’t because it’s my fault that if you don’t marry me, you won’t get my parents’ money?”

  He put his index finger on his lips and looked up a second and then nodded.

  “Yes! I think that sums it up. See what you have done to my life?”

  “Oh, good grief. Now I have heard it all. Look. Isn’t there anyway we can work this out? I mean, if you need money, maybe I could pay you to break off the betrothal? Sounds reasonable.”

  His mouth fell open horrified.

  “No! You’ll not pay me off like a villain! I do have honor to uphold.”

  “So you would rather spend your life married to me instead of being with Cherise?”

  “Oh!” he laughed again. “I won’t be without her. She is willing to be kept in an apartment in Charleston. Frankly, you and I can live in different homes for all I care.”

  Everleigh saw the inequity of gender discrimination right before her eyes. She would have to remain chaste or probably be thrown in jail while he could have her money and his lover, and Cherise would lose her reputation in society as a tramp. And really, there was not much she could do about it. She needed to speak to Suzanne. Maybe she knew something.

  In a tone of defeat that would hopefully get him to give her some space, she said the first thing that came to mind, “I need to pack, then. So, I’ll see you at dinner I suppose.”

  He smiled an oily smile of triumph and she turned and went into the Inn and straight to Suzanne and Edward’s apartment.

  Knock knock knock!

  “Suzanne! I really need to see you. Are you in there?”

  ***

  She was so mad at this guy she hadn’t even got his name. On top of that she told him she would see him at dinner. Mr. Steel and his, what? Wife? Would be there. This was setting up to be a real nightmare. She thought about just stripping off her clothes and taking one of Miss Clara’s lavender baths right now and high tail it out of there. Surely a sponge bath would be enough to make the magic happen.

  Suzanne thought the whole turn of events was perfect for stirring up some jealousy in Mr. Steel. Besides, she’d said, what did she have to lose? She finished the last touches on her hair for dinner and looked at her reflection. The gold and cinnamon colored silk gown with drop shoulder sleeves made her look like a fairy princess. Delicate handmade lace fell from the hem of the sleeves. She ran her hands down her torso and lingered in the appreciation of her figure. The sensation of loving herself was blissful. The bosom-exposing neckline was different than her usual day wear but appropriate for dinner.

  A sound outside of the Inn caught her attention. A man was yelling. She moved to the window and peered between the narrow partings of the sheers. She could see the head of the man who called himself her betrothed below on the path to the front door. He was waving his arms wildly and speaking harshly to Mr. Clark. She could make out the top of Mr. Clark’s rounded hat and his brown suit jacket as he stood unimpressed in front of him.

  “Mr. Peeble,” he sighed patiently, “I can assure you that if the Justice of the Peace says he is not available, he surely isn’t. There is no conspiracy against you.”

  “I will not tolerate your hick town discriminating against me. I know how you Kentucky mountain people can be!”

  Everleigh sighed embarrassed for the man.

  What an idiot!

  She crossed the room to head downstairs thinking this was going to be an interesting evening. She descended the stairs in a glide and found Suzanne in the foyer wringing her hands.

  “Oh, Everleigh, that man! Have you seen the likes of such a man?”

  “I suppose there are creeps wherever you go.”

  “Creeps?” Suzanne looked confused.

  “Scoundrels?” Everleigh tried to think of an old word for a loser.

  “Oh, yes! This should be an entertaining dinner, I would assume.”

  Mr. Clark and Mr. Peeble came inside both looking perturbed. At the site of Everleigh, Mr. Peeble’s expression changed from perturbed to gloating. His chest swelled up and he looked down his nose at her.

  “There’s my bride to be. If it weren’t for these backwater fools, we would already be married.”

  “There you are… again, I suppose.” Everleigh’s mind scrambled trying to think of something pleasant to say but nothing at all came to mind. Suzanne looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “Gentlemen, why don’t we wait in the parlor for our other dinner guests?” Suzanne strained to sound hospitable.

  “Mr. Peeble, let me pour you a drink.” The Mr. Clark led Mr. Peeble into the parlor and offered him a glass of whiskey. Everleigh wondered if that was sensible but perhaps it was the polite thing to do anyway.

  Mr. Peeble, seriously? What a mamby-pamby name.

  “Everleigh, when Mr. Steel gets here, try to seem like you don’t care for Mr. Peeble’s advances. That will clear the way for him to let his manly pride have its way.”

  Everleigh giggled, “I should be able to handle that!”

  The door swung open and there he stood. The breath sucked out of her lungs. An invisible magnet tugged at her visceral core. A shot of heat bolted through her. She was about to step forward when she remembered that he hadn’t come alone.

  Suzanne shot a look around him and her mouth fell open. “But,” she paused searching his face, “where is she?”

  “Oh, you must mean Mrs. Monroe. I really wasn’t sure who you talking about but I assume you had seen Mrs. Monroe in town this morning.”

  “Mrs. Monroe?” she shook her head.

  “Yes. Mrs. Monroe is, well, the wife of my farm manager. She often does shopping for my estate even though she is not my employee. It would be inappropriate for me to take her out to dinner.”

  “I suppose so.” Suzanne was crestfallen. Her mouth turned into a sour downcast. She shot a look at Everleigh.

  “Then. I suppose we can go into the parlor.” Everleigh winked at Suzanne. Everleigh detected a slight sense that he was not telling the truth but couldn’t pursue it.

  “Oh, yes” Suzanne appeared to remember the other guest and resumed her satisfied look. All was not lost. She looped her arm into Mr. Steel’s and led him into the parlor.

  Mr. Clark was already looking weary as he rubbed his temples. Mr. Peeble was droning on about changes that should be made to the Inn to bring it up to the current standards of civilized townspeople. Hearing the group treading across the carpet, he looked up and gave Suzanne a watery smile.

  Standing and reaching out his hand, “Ah, Mr. Steel! How good of you to join us. Suzanne said you would have a lady friend with you,” his eyes darted around expecting to find someone else.

  “Oh, I think there was a misunderstanding.” He smiled politely and clasped his hands in front of him indicating he didn’t really want to discuss it further.

  “I would like to introduce Horace Peeble. He arrived today to discuss some business with Ms. Addison.

  Horace? This is getting worse by the minute. Mrs. Horace Peeble. God save me.

  Mr. Peeble stood and barely came to Mr. Steel’s shoulder. He had to look up to speak to him.

  “Business? Not exactly, Mr. Clark. I came to collect my betrothed. We will be married by tomorrow at dinner, if I can get your justice of the peace to do his job.”

  Mr. Steel’s jar clenched, the muscle under his ear tensed. Slowly his face turned toward Everleigh before his eyes did. She could see a fierceness below the surface of his expression as he watched Mr. Peeble speak. Then his eyes shifted to her and changed to pain. His whole face exuded a controlled grief.

  “I suppose congratulations are in order,” h
e quietly enunciated.

  She looked away. She couldn’t bear to look in his eyes.

  “That’s right. We will celebrate, won’t we, my darling.” He nudged her and she brought up a hand to her stomach as the nausea threatened.

  “Shall we move to the dining room, then?” Mr. Clark held out his hand to direct them through the doorway to the dining room.

  The last thing she felt like doing was celebrating. In fact, it really didn’t look like any of them did. Even Mr. Peeble looked more annoyed than anything.

  As they gathered around the table, it became clear to her that this was going to be a trying meal. She had lost any appetite she might have had. Suzanne and Edward stood next to each other. Mr. Peeble stood to her left and Mr. Steel stood her right. She would have to sit between these two. One side of her vision filled her with nausea and the other side of her vision made her heart lose track of its rhythm. When Mr. Peeble stood there and did nothing but hold his face in contempt, Mr. Steel reached over and pulled her chair out for her. She smiled sweetly and tried not to look in his eyes.

  She sat and his fingers grazed her bare skin on her shoulder as he pushed her chair in. Like the shock of a frayed wire, the spot burned long after he sat in his own seat. Whatever it was that they shared seemed to be more than either of them could deny. Discreetly, she cast her eyes to her left to catch a glimpse of him. She could feel the heat radiating from his body like a furnace. She could see him gently rubbing the fingers that touched her. With his mouth turned down in a frown, he seemed lost in his sadness.