Return to Seven Sisters

by M. L. Bullock

  “Lafonda, my dear, come meet Bart Trufant. He is an intelligent man with an amazing grasp of the science of shipbuilding. I’m sure you two could bore one another with your analytical minds. My daughter knows everything possible about our gardens—she’s a student of many subjects.”

  Mr. Trufant beamed at hearing my father’s appreciation for him and his obvious affection for me. Bartholomew Trufant must have been twice my age, and it wasn’t like my father to get involved so personally in my affairs, but I did not make an open fuss.

  “Mr. Trufant. I am pleased to meet you.” I extended a hand as if I were meeting an old friend. “Any friend of my father’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Miss Delarosa, your father speaks so highly of you, but he neglected to tell me how lovely you are. Do you have any interest in ships? Perhaps I might be allowed to give you a tour of the new facility.”

  “Oh, I have an interest in a great many things. For instance, I recently took up the study of anatomy. Do you know that babies are born with nearly three hundred bones? However, when they reach adulthood this number diminishes to little more than two hundred. Why do you suppose that is, Mr. Trufant?” Papa’s shocked face made me want to laugh, but I maintained a mild, modest expression. Mr. Trufant sputtered, obviously taken aback by my question. Mama sailed toward us and complimented me on my gown as if she’d never seen it before. As if she hadn’t purchased the atrocious pile of scarlet ruffles herself.

  “Doesn’t our daughter look like a princess, Nobel? She looks more and more like your sister every day. She was a lovely woman, Mr. Trufant. Oh, if she were alive, how happy she would be to see this day. Lafonda, dear, more guests have arrived. Would you mind helping me greet them?”

  Happy to be dismissed from my current conversation, I walked beside Mama as we offered greetings to our newest visitors. To be honest, I’d never seen most of these people before. I’d enjoyed glorious freedom the past few months while Mama spent afternoon after afternoon getting to know the local society. Glancing about the room, I felt like a bright red flower compared to the pastel-clad young women who surrounded me. Muted colors were apparently all the rage this year. Why in the world would Mama insist that I wear such a bold color? I sometimes imagined she liked humiliating me. Why else would I appear so garish while she herself wore a gown of soft green? She held my hand gently and whispered in my ear, “Don’t fret so, Lafonda, and don’t tug on your gown. Now go be friendly. Here is a room full of people ready to meet you. Make some new friends—and remember, this is for your brother.”

  “How can I forget that, Mama?”

  “Stop whining and think of someone other than yourself. Be a good sister. One of these young ladies may be your future sister-in-law. Look! There’s Memphis. I’m sure she is eager to talk with you.” I groaned quietly, but Mama appeared not to hear. She engaged Mr. Trufant, who had suddenly appeared next to us, in pleasant conversation, and I took advantage of the opportunity to flee his presence. I walked to the other side of the room and stood for a moment watching the various meetings taking place around me. Then I felt someone watching me, staring at me. It was Max.

  His eyes were upon me, and he wore a slight smile. And where was my brother? Shouldn’t he be with him right now? I frowned in return. Why did I feel so sullen?

  With a tilt of my head, I walked about the room nodding and smiling, postponing my eventual conversation with Memphis Overstreet. I heard several whispered comments about “arrogant foreigners,” but I did not let our guests’ disdain discourage me. How did Mama not hear this?

  “Lafonda, I was wondering if you would ever make it to me. What an amazing shade of red, and how well it goes with your complexion. Where ever did you purchase it?” And then without waiting for an answer, Memphis asked, “Where is Jonatan? Will you keep him in hiding forever?”

  Memphis was the only dull spot in the bright array of cheerful gowns and pink-cheeked debutantes. Despite her dark clothing and serious expression, everyone deferred to her as if she were local royalty. Yes, she was clearly the leader of this elegant gathering of girls, but she also looked more like an adult than any of them.

  She wore her hair the same as she had when I saw her the first time. Her dark brown hair was parted down the middle and wrapped in a braid at the back of her head. She did not wear piles of curls or ornate ribbons like the other girls did. In fact, she was quite free of decorations except for a pearl pendant necklace about her rather short neck. Her pale shoulders sloped slightly in her off-the-shoulder gown of dark navy. It had a simple bustle, and she wore navy blue lace fingerless gloves, as did most everyone else in Mobile. It was then that I noticed Mama was also wearing the ridiculous things, which meant it wouldn’t be long before I too was forced to wear such useless accessories. I did not look forward to that. Despite her attempts at looking dowdy, for I assumed her dress choice was purposeful, Memphis was an attractive girl with good bones and a determined expression.

  Oh yes, she was a force to be reckoned with.

  “I’m not hiding him. Jonatan keeps his own mind,” I lied to Memphis. The arrogance of presuming that I was the one keeping him hidden away from her. No, I didn’t like this girl. She was too pushy, too forward. Not right for Jonatan at all. “He is likely rehearsing his birthday speech. He is meticulous about such things.”

  Memphis slid her arm in mine as if we were the best of friends. “A handsome face and a beautiful mind…he sounds like the perfect combination. You must tell me more about your brother. What does he like to do?” As we took a turn about the Blue Room, Memphis nodded when addressed but largely kept her attention on me. We paused in front of the open window that overlooked the herb garden. Pungent scents of thyme and oregano coupled with lavender and lemon verbena filled the air. It was an eclectic but pleasant combination of fragrances.

  How to answer her question without telling too much about him?

  “Jonatan loves to explore nature. He enjoys being outdoors and riding, although I don’t think he does much hunting.”

  She pointed at a fluttering yellow butterfly that passed just outside the window. “And what kind of butterfly is that, Lafonda?”

  “A Longwing, but I confess I don’t know the exact species.”

  “It’s lovely. I see them in my garden too. Perhaps you’ll visit me one day. I feel I can speak plainly with you, Lafonda. It is not within my nature to play games or be evasive. I must know, is Jonatan in an arrangement with anyone?”

  “Arrangement?” I knew exactly what she was asking me, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. How dare Memphis Overstreet ask me such a question? We barely knew one another.

  “Come now, you are not an unintelligent young woman, or so I’ve been told. I am interested in your brother. Please, don’t play games with me. Is your brother engaged or intended to someone? Perhaps someone back home? You must forgive me for asking, but I’m not sure how these things are done in your native country.”

  I couldn’t hide my disdain. “Native country? My family and I have been in the United States for over a decade. It is safe to say that this is our native country now. We are Americans, Miss Overstreet.”

  “I meant no offense, and it disturbs me that you would think that.” Over her shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Max watching our every move. What did he want? Did Jonatan need me? “What is it?” Memphis asked on seeing my disturbed expression. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, who is that?”

  “My brother’s friend Max. I thought he might be looking for me.”

  She glanced around the room and smirked at me. “He seems particularly fond of you, and I’ve seen him with your brother more than once. Is he a relative?” Her eyes were feasting on Max, who bowed toward us before disappearing with his drink in hand.

  “As I said, he’s my brother’s companion. He’s no relative.”

  “I owe you an apology. I apologize for being so rude. Mother tells me all the time that my manner is too forward.”

  In that moment, I felt s
oftness toward her that I didn’t wish for and didn’t expect. “I’m not immune to the comments of others, Memphis. I’m aware that many people consider my family foreigners—interlopers here at Seven Sisters.” I glanced around as if to prove a point. There were plenty of whispers around us, as some of the local girls stared us down. Obviously, they didn’t approve of Memphis’ attentions toward me, but she brushed it off with a smile.

  “You put too much stock in what other people think. People will always talk, even if there’s nothing to talk about. That’s what people do. They are bored, silly girls who are nothing but jealous. Let it roll off you, Lafonda Delarosa, like water off a duck’s back. The sooner you do that, the happier you’ll be.” She took my elbow gently and steered me out the open French doors. “You all have done a wonderful job bringing this place back to life. I used to hate passing by. It felt wrong that such a beautiful place was left to rot in the heat. Was it very horrible when you moved in?”

  “By the time we arrived, Papa had arranged for much work to be done. All the rooms have been painted, and I am happy to say that the rose gardens are coming along nicely.”

  “It is a beautiful place; it’s larger than Beulah and even Amy Waters’ pokey old place in Green Mills. They call it Hampton Court—isn’t that a pretentious name? As if she were the Queen of England.”

  In spite of myself I giggled, although I wasn’t sure who Amy Waters was.

  “Did you know she traveled three days to get here? I swear she looks just like a walleyed pike.” Memphis rolled her eyes, and I couldn’t help but smile even though I had never heard of a walleyed pike. I knew what she was doing, befriending me for my brother’s sake, but even so I was happy to make someone’s acquaintance. Again, the truth stared me in the face. I was lonely. Completely lonely. She chattered on, “There have been such tragedies here at Seven Sisters—and plenty of scandal. It is nice to see a happy family in the house.”

  “Scandal? What scandal do you mean?”

  She appraised me briefly and leaned closer. “For a start, have you seen any ghosts here? They say the spirit of Calpurnia Cottonwood haunts these halls mourning the loss of her fiancé, who was stolen from her by her cousin, Isla. Apparently, she is distraught to have died without ever marrying him. If that’s not bad enough, her mother lingers too. She lost all her children, except Calpurnia. She hanged herself—Christine, that is—here at Seven Sisters. Right upstairs.” Memphis visibly shuddered, and I could see the gooseflesh rising on her skin.

  “Christine Cottonwood is a ghost? I don’t think I believe in those, and I can’t believe you would either.” I felt myself pale at the mention of Christine’s name, but I had to admit I wanted to know more. “Just for curiosity’s sake, what happened to her?”

  Memphis smiled, and it was not a warm expression. She reminded me of a dark short-haired cat that I used to attempt to play with when I was little. It was one of the few memories I had of our life in Spain. The feline was small but vicious, and the only way I could tempt her to me was to dangle raw meat in front of her. Ramona would sneak close enough to steal the food from my hand but didn’t mind biting me as a thank you for it. After one such vicious mauling, I’d given up on befriending her. She stalked me for a while afterward but eventually abandoned the effort.

  “Christine’s is a tragic story, but her daughter’s is much more compelling. Calpurnia disappeared. That’s her picture there on the mantelpiece. She was never found. Folks searched for her for years, even that awful cousin I mentioned, but in the end there wasn’t a trace of her. Popular gossip says she ran away, but others say she drowned in the Mobile River. There are as many different stories as there are accounts of ghosts in this house—and there’s no shortage of those.”

  “But what about Christine?”

  “She was a young woman when she came here, and her husband, Jeremiah, was known to drink. The poor woman had miscarriage after miscarriage, and I guess it finally got to be too much for her. She gave up and hanged herself. My friend Daisy says that her mother says that Christine used to scare the bejeezus out of her maid. She’d come to the house occasionally to clean for the fellow who owned the bank at the time. Nobody lived here then, but he held out hope that he could get a good price for it. Well, the maid said Christine was on the top of the stairs and she was bleeding, like she had just given birth. And then the maid heard the baby crying. She ran out and never came back.”

  “That’s a horrible story, but I don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “Neither do I, but I believe that people will do just about anything for love. Even come back from the beyond, if they had to.” Memphis sipped on her punch and scanned the room. We’d be heading to the ballroom soon. The Blue Room was filling up quickly, and there were conversations and laughter all around us. “You’d never know there had been such tragedy here. People have forgotten about the Cottonwoods, it appears. The place is filled to the rafters tonight, and that is to your mother’s credit. This is quite an achievement,” she said matter-of-factly. Her admiration was clear.

  “Oh, you’ll find Mama to be nothing if not social.” I didn’t know what else to say, but Memphis apparently wasn’t eager to leave my side.

  “I hope I didn’t disturb you. If you say you haven’t seen any ghosts here, I believe you, Lafonda. Personally, I was never one to believe in such superstitious nonsense. People say all sorts of wild things, though, especially maids with overactive imaginations. I don’t know what I would do if I heard the rope creaking or heard her screams in the night. I guess you’re right. It’s all foolishness.”

  “What screams in the night? I never heard a rope or anything creaking except the stairs.”

  “Others have reported that you can hear Christine’s rope creaking in the upstairs master suite, that you can hear babies crying in the wee hours of the morning, and that even the ghost of Calpurnia’s lover returns to search for her, to offer his apologies. I never believed any of it, but I thought you should know what people say. As usual, they are merely stories told to frighten girls into obeying their parents.”

  “You must tell me more sometime. I want to know what you know about Mrs. Cottonwood. I found something when I arrived here, and I am curious about it. It was a book with…”

  Mama was tapping on a glass with a small golden spoon. Memphis took my hand again, as if I were a child, and led me into the ballroom. Papa stepped to the center of the room and raised his glass.

  “Dear friends, new friends, my family and I welcome you to Seven Sisters.” The attendees offered muted claps with their gloved hands in appreciation for my father’s kind words. “Today, it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to my son, Jonatan Delarosa, who tonight celebrates his 18th birthday. Here he is now.”

  My brother walked into the room, and naturally the many ladies gasped their approval. Jonatan stepped forward looking like a Prince Regent in his dark blue coat and black trousers. He smiled continuously, basking in their admiration. I knew full well he would stand there an uncomfortable length of time, just grinning, if not led to the next portion of the event. Jonatan did love to be loved—above all else, he loved to be loved. Intuitively, Papa patted Jonatan’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.

  Jonatan raised his hand to end the applause given in his honor. “Thank you, everyone, for coming this evening. It does my heart good.” His hand covered his heart, a move I saw Max mimic in the doorway. Memphis saw it too, and her eyes shot from Max to me. I smiled politely and kept my face a mask of love and approval for my brother. “Yes, my heart is full, and I am delighted that you have come to my birthday gathering.” Father handed him a glass of champagne, and Jonatan raised it high. “To you all, best wishes!” He drank from his glass as the birthday music swelled through the ballroom. He nodded before he turned to leave the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief as he exited with Max, the two of them laughing like old friends. Truly, no one would ever know my brother’s secret, so well-rehearsed was his speech. I would have to compliment M
ax later; he deserved praise for it.

  Memphis’s face was flush with excitement. She clearly approved of Jonatan’s speech too, and I decided perhaps I liked her a little. Before I knew it, mothers were circling their daughters, all excited about the new “lord” of Seven Sisters, Jonatan Delarosa.

  Yes, just as Mama had hoped, my brother’s name was on everyone’s lips. Like others, Anne Overstreet appeared and whisked her daughter away. She and Memphis disappeared into the crowd as I was immediately surrounded by other girls, the same girls who had labeled me an “arrogant foreigner” earlier. They had completely forgotten their previous rudeness, interested now in my brother.

  For if he was such a handsome fellow, then surely I must also be acceptable, I could almost hear them thinking.

  “Excuse me, ladies. I must go see my brother. I’m sure he will come to see you soon.” With that I escaped them, ignoring Mama’s stern scowl. And I did have every intention of finding Jonatan to congratulate him on a job well done, but I never made it that far.

  Instead I found a young man, a fellow who obviously did not belong in this gathering, lingering in the hallway with a small cedar box in his hand. He was tall, taller even than Papa, and had dark, wavy hair. He had the dark looks of a Spaniard, but when he spoke there was no mistaking he was Creole.

  “Miss, if you don’t mind, I’m here to deliver this box to Mr. Nobel. I was supposed to be here earlier, but my horse, well, he decided to go in another direction.” He handed me the box of cigars, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression.

  “Does your horse often do such things? If so, I suspect that your horse skills leave something to be desired, sir.”

  His dark eyes were warm and appreciative of my attempt at humor. “To be sure they do. It’s true that I prefer the water to a horse any day of the week. But unfortunately for me, there were no pontoon boats available, and your house, as lovely and grand as it is, is not close enough to the water to make that possible, miss…”