by Becky Lower
Charlotte began to search the interior of the carriage. “Oh, Heather. I nearly forgot your homecoming present.” She pulled a package out from between the seats and handed it to Heather, who unwrapped it with eager abandon.
“Is it Rosemary’s latest book?”
“No, it’s even more precious.”
Heather tore off the last of the wrapping and looked at the copy of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. She looked up at her mother, with a question in her eyes.
“Open it to the title page.” Charlotte instructed.
“An autographed copy!” Heather exclaimed, as she ran her fingers lightly over Harriet Beecher Stowe’s signature. “Thank you, Mother. This is the most special gift I’ve ever received. Where did you find it?”
Charlotte basked in the glow of Heather’s pleasure. “Your father and I went to an anti-slavery fundraiser a week ago. You know your father. He didn’t want to be seen at a rally, since it might affect his relations with some of the bank’s clients. But when I insisted on going, with or without him, he relented and came along.”
Heather smiled. “Papa at a rally? I would like to have seen that. He got kind of roped into abolition by helping Sally and the baby, but to publicly declare it is something else again.”
“In any event, the book was being auctioned off as a fundraiser. The price kept going up and up, but I was determined to get it for you. We were going to wait until Christmas to give it to you, but I thought today was even more appropriate.”
Heather rubbed the cover of the book before clutching it close to her body. “Especially since we brought Jericho home with us. He’s such an intelligent boy. Would you mind if I continue my lessons with him?”
“Not at all. You can use the nursery at home as your classroom, if you’d like.”
“I think I’d like to look into teaching as a career, Mother. I want to be able to teach more students than just Jericho. I truly loved what I was doing with David’s slaves. Seeing their joy when they grasped math or spelling was so gratifying. And Jericho, especially, was an outstanding pupil.”
“I think that’s a wonderful plan, my dear. We can discuss it later, and maybe see about getting you into a teacher’s college. But for now, why don’t you just take some time to enjoy yourself? From the sounds of things, you certainly didn’t have much fun in the south, did you?”
Unbidden, thoughts of David and his nightly sensual visits to her cottage came into her mind. Her cheeks turned pink at the memory. “It had its moments, Mother,” she replied in a soft voice as she turned her gaze to the bustling streets of New York, which were in stark contrast to the laid-back lifestyle she had just come from.
• • •
Heather crept into the darkened room where her twin slept. She had taken her time coming up here, to the room they had shared since childhood. Heather had been planning what she would say to Jasmine since she boarded the train in Savannah. No, even before that. She began composing tirades to her during the long hours in the jail cell. She knew Jasmine’s personality better than her own, almost, and believed Jas would never intentionally commit an act that would hurt someone else. Jasmine was just angry at the world right now, since her fateful fall on the balcony the evening of their Cotillion ball.
Intentional or not, her sister’s foolish act had severe consequences, and Heather intended to make certain her sister didn’t brush this off as lightly as she did everything else. It was funny that Jasmine had always complained about Heather’s lack of urgency to grow up, but in actuality Jasmine was the one who was lagging behind. Heather’s well-formed arguments were ready for her to use the minute her sister woke from her nap.
Heather was glad she had some minutes of quiet reflection. She moved further into the room and went to the side of the bed. Jasmine’s face no longer looked like that of a girl. Rather, it resembled the face of a young woman. A subtle change, to be sure, but one that Heather had not seen before. She noticed Jasmine held a handkerchief in one clenched hand and wondered if she cried herself to sleep. A lock of her long brunette hair had fallen across her face while she slept.
Heather reached out and smoothed the hair back from Jasmine’s face. Jasmine’s eyes, the exact light brown color and shape as Heather’s, opened the moment Heather touched her, and she stared at her twin while Heather finished tucking the stray lock behind Jasmine’s ear. Tears formed as she launched up from her prone position and into Heather’s open arms.
“I’m so sorry,” Jasmine’s voice broke as hot tears dampened Heather’s shoulder.
“I know you are, but you must, at some point in time, learn there are consequences for your actions.”
“I regret that Mrs. Whitman got her hands on my stupid letter and put you into prison because of it. I never expected that to happen. I’ve been crying ever since we got Colleen’s telegram.”
“Why did you even write your ‘stupid’ letter in the first place? What were you hoping to accomplish?”
Jasmine squirmed beneath Heather’s intense gaze. “I, uh, I wanted to get David to lose interest in you, so you could come home where you belong.”
“So, you had no regard for my feelings for David? You just wanted me home, so we could go through the season together next year? Was that your line of reasoning? Are you so selfish? Was that why you destroyed my life?” Heather fumed.
Jasmine got a ghost of a smile on her face. “I didn’t say it was a good line of reasoning, but yes. You and I had always planned on having our season together, and I was, and am, angrier than you can ever imagine that things turned out as they have. After all, you were off on this grand adventure and I was stuck here in this room alone, not even able to walk downstairs for dinner.”
She glanced up at Heather, who had not changed her expression. “Come on, Sis,” she cajoled while she took one of Heather’s hands in hers. “You know it’s not right that you go through the season without me to lead the way, and by now you know that David is not the man for you. He will never fit in this family and you’ll never fit in his.”
Heather removed her hand from Jasmine’s grasp. “You are still the same selfish, spoiled girl you were when we were young. Your actions showed me how irresponsible you are and could have had caused serious consequences beyond me spending a night in jail. Do you not realize that any of the slaves who were in my cottage at the time Mrs. Whitman and the constable arrived could have lost their lives if they had been discovered?”
Heather sensed Jasmine’s intake of breath, and was gratified at the response. She knew her sister was not malicious, merely selfish. Jasmine’s eyes sought her own, and were round as saucers.
“I didn’t even think about the slaves you were teaching! I only wanted to get you and David to see you weren’t right for each other.”
Heather finally sat on the side of the bed, and took Jasmine’s hand. “Mrs. Whitman was doing a fine job of making me realize how unfit I was for plantation life on her own. She didn’t need any assistance from you. But you need to wake up to the fact that the world doesn’t revolve around you, and that you put many lives in danger with your stupidity. It’s time you grew up, Jas.”
Jasmine gulped under her sister’s harsh words, then looked over at her and smiled. “When did you get to be so smart? You sound more like Mother than you do my sister.”
Heather smiled. “I found two loves while in the south. Your treacherous letter may have ripped one of them from me, but not both. I’m going to become a teacher, Jas.”
Jasmine swung her legs over the side of the bed and embraced Heather again. “That’s wonderful! You’ll be a great teacher. You just taught me not to be so selfish. But what of David? Has he called off the engagement?”
“No, he did not.”
Jasmine backed away from her embrace. “You mean, you’re still engaged?”
Heather’s smile grew wistful. “Did it not enter your mind that I might be the one who ended our engagement?”
Jasmine took a sharp intake of breath. “No!”
/> “Yes, dear sister. I’m the one who turned my back on David and the south. He longed to figure out a way to make things work. However, I could see no solution to our problems.”
Jasmine laid her head against her sister’s as they sat, arm in arm, at the edge of the bed. “I’m just glad you’re home, and safe.”
Heather pulled away from Jasmine’s familiar embrace. “Yes, I am home, and now safe. But you need to understand what you’ve done to me. I can’t forgive and forget just like it was nothing. My heart has been broken, and it’s your fault. I may eventually forgive you, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget your betrayal.”
“But surely, you can find someone new. The season still has months to go. You’ll find someone else to wed, maybe even before the end of summer.”
Heather sighed. “Maybe tonight, even, if Mother has anything to do with it. I’m having dinner with one of Papa’s newest clients at the bank. Mother thinks it would be good if we meet, since he’s British, handsome, and single. In fact, I must get ready. I’m anxious to see if he’s everything Mother says he is. He may be perfect for you or me, Jas, but since you can’t attend, I’ll entertain him tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Heather was gratified to hear Jasmine’s gasp once more as Heather left the room.
• • •
“What a divine hat, Papa,” Heather exclaimed as she hugged her father.
Her father touched the brim of his latest head covering. “Do you like it, pet? It’s called a top hat, and, according to Blake Morgan, it’s the latest thing.”
“The same Mr. Morgan we’re about to dine with?”
“Yes, he brought this to the bank when he applied for his loan, to show me what he and his brother, Brandon, are making, and after listening to his sales pitch, I bought it from him before he left my bank with his loan. Beaver hats have become passé. Now only a silk top hat is fashionable. And Blake Morgan’s haberdashery is poised to profit nicely from the trend. I’m glad you approve of it.”
George kissed his daughter’s brow as he returned her hug. “I am so sorry things didn’t work out with David. He impressed me from the moment I met him last fall, but I understand how you could not live in the south. Just the few hours I spent in Georgia left a bad taste in my mouth. I’m amazed you lasted as long as you did.”
Heather thought she was done with crying, but her eyes sparkled with tears again at her father’s kind words. “Thank you, Papa. The whole experience gives me goosebumps when I think about it.” Especially when she thought of David’s loving hands on her body. She gave herself a little shake. “But it was apparently not meant to be. I could never live on a plantation, where slavery is taken for granted and I would have to look at it every day.”
“You are so much like Ginger, it frightens me at times. Next thing I know, you’ll be taking to the streets in your bloomers to promote women’s rights.” He pulled back from her enough to peruse her dress. “You look lovely tonight, daughter. Blue is definitely your color. Now let’s make a pact not to talk of David again. I know you will enjoy Mr. Morgan’s company.”
Heather giggled at the praise, and, as her father twirled his finger in the air, she obliged and executed a quick turn. The skirt, with its many layers of embellished flounces over her petticoats, swished with a delicate grace. The top of the dress was off-the-shoulder, in a lighter shade of blue than the skirt, dipping low at the neckline in both the front and the back. The bodice fit closely to her corseted body, forming a “V” at her hips, which further emphasized her small waist.
George sighed as he again took her into his arms. “When did my little girls grow up? It seems like only yesterday you and Jasmine were terrorizing me in my study, running around my desk as I tried to read the paper.” He reached down and caressed Heather’s cheek. “I don’t like this, having my daughters leaving home.”
“Well, I’ve come back home and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, it seems,” Heather sighed.
Charlotte entered the foyer at that moment and glanced at her daughter. “The season is still in its peak, so we’ll see about that, my dear. You look lovely tonight, and I’m certain Mr. Morgan will be duly impressed. Not only is he one of your father’s newest clients, but he also has the loveliest English accent. The man is single, and he has a brother who resides in England. Wouldn’t it be nice if you and Jasmine and Blake and his brother married? Sisters marrying brothers. What could be better?”
Heather smiled at her mother. “I don’t know how you manage to find out everything about a person before you even meet them. But, please forget about fixing me up with him, Mother. I’m standing in for Jasmine tonight. She asked me to see if your Mr. Morgan is all you say he is. She’s interested, not me. I’m quite done with that part of my life. I’ve decided to become the proverbial spinster schoolmarm.”
Charlotte reached over and patted Heather’s arm. “There, there. I know Savannah was difficult for you. We should never have let you go there. Every time I think of you in that jail cell, it just makes my blood boil. David is such a nice man, but his mother … ”
“I don’t want to ever talk about Georgia and jail again. Enough talk of David and Bellewood, Mother. Tonight I just want to have a good time, even if I am only assessing things for Jas, and I can’t do that if I’m thinking of David.”
“Yes, yes, dear,” Charlotte said as she continued to pat Heather’s arm. “I’m glad you’ve decided to join us this evening. It’s time to move on, and for you to jump back into the season.”
“Please, Mother, listen to me. I have no interest in rejoining the season. I’m just having dinner with my parents and one of the bank’s clients, and will try to enjoy my evening.”
“Yes, a single, available, male client with a beautiful, cultured English accent,” Charlotte cooed. “I understand your hesitancy to begin entertaining men again, but I will not allow you to cower in this house for the rest of the summer. So, all right, if you say you’ll be entertaining Blake Morgan merely to see if he’s a good fit for Jasmine, then so be it. Come now, we mustn’t keep handsome Mr. Morgan waiting.”
Heather hesitated briefly, considering her mother’s words. She knew her mother well enough to know she had given in way too easily. Her mother was always up to something, and Heather began to feel like a lamb being led to slaughter.
Chapter 30
Heather’s father was right. She and Mr. Morgan were getting along, even though he was the polar opposite of David, her ideal man. She mentally compared the two. David had a strong presence, with a ramrod straight military bearing that commanded the room. Blake Morgan, while equally as tall as David, was slighter of build, and he carried himself with an easy grace. Blake’s cultured English accent was quite pleasing to the ear, although not David’s warm, honeyed voice that sent shivers of delight through her body.
Heather thought of David’s hair, with his dark brown curls that despite his attempts to tame them, still managed to slide over his forehead in the most adorable way. She glanced over at Blake’s shock of thick, straight blond hair, thinking it looked like a tangled field of wheat, as if he had just run his hands through it, which he had just done, much to her amusement. When Blake, er, Mr. Morgan, fell into rapid conversation with her father about his ideas to expand his haberdashery business, Heather noticed he had the habit of running his hand through his hair. She enjoyed listening to a man who was passionate, even if it was about his livelihood and not about her, as it had been with David. She wondered what running her fingers through Blake’s hair would feel like. She glanced away from him with a gasp, embarrassed at the way her mind was wandering aimlessly. But still, he did have a very nice head of hair.
After dessert was served and the wait staff departed from their table, she raised her wineglass for a sip and then nearly dropped it as she caught Blake’s wink across the table at her. A wink! Her cheeks reddened as she watched him smile at her. He must know how inappropriate his actions were. The nerve of him! But she could not control her
returning smile. She was, despite herself, enjoying this evening. She looked at her parents to see if they had caught Blake’s indiscretion, but they were staring into each other’s eyes as if they were the only ones in the room. She might as well have been alone with him.
Heather cleared her throat. That was the wrong thing to do, as now Blake and her parents looked her way, expecting her to say something profound. She searched her brain, frantic for something to say.
“How long have you been in this country, Mr. Morgan?” Land sakes, was that the best she could do?
“Only a couple of months, Miss Fitzpatrick. Your father is one of a handful of people I’ve been able to get to know. I’ve never been far from my brother’s side, so this is a new experience for me.”
Never one to miss an opportunity, Charlotte asked, “And how old is your brother? His name is Brandon, am I correct?”
“Yes, ma’am. Brandon is merely nine months older than me. I’m twenty-four, and he’s twenty-five.” Blake glanced across the table at Charlotte and grinned. “But for three months of every year, we are exactly the same age. We went through our schooling together, heading off to Eton at the same time.”
“And why did he not come to America with you?”
“Our business relies on acquiring the best quality silk from Russia, and he has developed an array of connections in that country. It would be impossible to maintain the tight bond with them here in America, so I was the obvious choice to come here and set up shop.”
“You know, Heather has a twin, Jasmine, and she’s never been far from her sister’s side, except for this season.”
Blake switched his gaze from Charlotte to Heather. “And why is that?”
Heather gave an exaggerated sigh. “Because Jasmine broke her ankle at our Cotillion Ball, and she will miss the remainder of the season. So, I must plod on without her, it seems.”
“So we are alike in that regard. I, too, am without my sibling. Perhaps we can help each other. Will you be attending the Haversham ball later this week?”
