“Not with me around, he won’t! And I’d better not hear of any whippings going on, anyway. Dear God, I hate slavery. It’s wrong, and—”
“And nothing for you to concern yourself with, my dear.” Arlene Tremayne breezed into the dressing alcove. Slender, not as tall as her daughter, she was stunning in a gown of champagne silk. Letty was just interlacing the delicate white and smoked pearl band among the tight ringlets at her crown. “Magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!” she praised as she set down the bowl she was carrying. “You’re a jewel, Letty. You have such a talent. I don’t know how we’d manage without you, but you can run along now. I’ll finish adjusting this. Erin and I need some time for a mother-daughter chat, you know.” She dismissed the woman with a patronizing smile.
Letty nodded and quickly backed out, obediently bowing and curtsying as Master Zachary required all his slaves to do.
The moment they were alone, Arlene sternly admonished, “You should never say such things in front of the servants. What if your stepfather heard you?” She shuddered, envisioning his reaction. “Ladies of good breeding never discuss such things anyway, to anyone. Remember that.”
“You don’t like slavery any more than I do,” Erin tartly reminded her. “You won’t even refer to them as slaves. Like now, you said servants. Slavery is just as detestable to you as it is to me, but you won’t dare admit it.”
Uneasily, Arlene countered, “Well, some things you have to accept whether you like them or not. Now here—” She abruptly changed the subject, gesturing to the bowl she’d brought. “This is fresh. I made it this afternoon.”
Erin knew what it was. For as long as she could remember, her mother had insisted she scrub her skin vigorously with a solution concocted of lemon juice, unripe grapes, parsley, and horseradish water. For nice skin, she said, smooth and soft.
Arlene continued, “When you’ve finished, I’ll help you with your gown. It is lovely, isn’t it?” She turned to look beyond the alcove to where the shaded rose gown was spread across her canopied bed. “Now what did we decide to do about your corset? Madame Cherise says most women aren’t wearing them anymore, but I feel naked without mine. I forgot to ask her what you should wear, and—”
“Mother, don’t worry about it,” Erin interrupted, then rushed to beg desperately once more, “Can’t we just forget this madness? I wasn’t invited to the ball, and we both know why. Zachary has never been accepted by the social elite of Richmond, and neither have we. It doesn’t matter how much money he’s got. Everyone knows how he got it—by cheating and swindling people.”
“Erin, no!” Arlene said, quickly sinking into a nearby chair because her trembling legs would no longer support her. She drew closer, leaned to whisper, even though they were alone in the alcove. “You mustn’t talk like that. Ever. He might hear you, and it wouldn’t do. He’d be so hurt to hear you say such things. I know he’s not a perfect man, far from it, but he is my husband, and he’s your stepfather, and you should try to get along with him, show some respect.”
Erin’s heart went out to her, but still she couldn’t hold back her loathing. “I can’t stand him. I wish I could have stayed in Atlanta, because I can’t hide the way I feel about him, and I’m sorry, for your sake.”
Arlene’s lower lip trembled as she fought to hold back the tears. In only a little while, both she and Erin were expected by Zachary in his study, to have a glass of sherry before they left for the ball. He wasn’t going, thank goodness, said he had to go away for a few days on business, but had expressed a desire to see them in their new finery. She didn’t want him to think she’d been crying.
Reaching to give Erin a gentle shake, she tremulously begged, “I want you to try and get along with him, please, for me. It was time for you to come home, because this is your home, and it’s also time for you to take a husband, get married. You couldn’t go on living with your father’s sister forever, and I didn’t want you to meet someone and marry and settle down there, so far away.”
She paused on a melancholy sigh. “I never understood why you were so hysterical to leave here anyway. I knew you and Zachary just couldn’t seem to get along, but I never dreamed it was so bad you’d want to go away.”
Erin wasn’t about to tell her just how bad it had been, knew it would crush her to learn what that fiend had tried to do to her when she was twelve years old. Instead, she pointed out, “I can’t stand the way he treats the servants, and he’s always ranting and raving about something.” She shook her head in dismay, wished things were different, but knew they never would be.
Arlene ignored that. “You have to remember, if it hadn’t been for Zachary asking me to marry him right after your father died, we’d be as poor as your Aunt Sarah and her family. No man from a wealthy and prominent family would have ever courted me, because I didn’t come from a similar background.”
Erin gave an unladylike snort. “So you married a man of disrepute, because he had money.”
“Erin, please…” Arlene choked back a sob, the tears she was fighting beginning to sting her eyes. “I had no choice. I had you to think about, and I didn’t want you to grow up in a life of poverty like I did. I was pretty then, too, and that’s why Zachary wanted me, and I held out for marriage, and now look what I have…” She waved her arms in a gesture to the opulent surroundings. “He isn’t all bad, Erin,” she rushed on. “He just gets mean when he’s drinking.”
“Which seems to be all the time.”
Arlene ignored that painful reality and continued her plea. “All I’m asking is that you try to get along with him. Maybe tonight we’ll find someone suitable for you, so you can hurry and get married and move out of the house.
“But I don’t want just anybody for you. And tonight you’ll be exposed to the cream of Virginia’s most eligible bachelors. I want you to stop worrying that we weren’t invited. We’ll just behave as though we were, because we should have been, and no one will say anything, because no one will dare make a scene. Now then…” She got to her feet and forced a smile she didn’t truly feel. “After you’ve had your bath, Letty will help you with your gown, and then I’ll meet you in the parlor.”
Alone in the alcove, Erin looked at her reflection and wasn’t surprised to see the resentment and rebellion mirrored there. She didn’t want to be put on display like a slave at auction and had no intention of marrying only for monetary and social reasons. She’d gone to school in Atlanta and studied hard; she considered herself to have above average intelligence for a woman. Accordingly, she dared hope there might be more for her in life than being subservient to a man she didn’t love, giving birth to a baby every year, and filling her boring hours with tatting and sewing. Why couldn’t she find a job and support herself? Surely there was something she could do. Why did she have to adhere to unwritten laws that said she had to have a husband to take care of her, as if she were some kind of dependent simpleton? She wasn’t worried about finding one if she wanted one; she was not at all conceited about her looks. And men seemed to find her height of nearly five feet nine an interesting contrast to dainty, fluffy girls of diminutive size. Well, she might have to go to the ball, but she’d do absolutely nothing to entice or encourage any man.
With that firm resolution, Erin had her bath, finishing, as always, by vigorously scrubbing with the strange solution. Letty helped her into the gown, marveling at her tiny waist, envying once more her generous bosom.
“You don’t need no stays, and you don’t need them new-type corsets with the cup-shaped bust sections, either. I’d say you’ve got a figure any woman would die for, and a body any man would kill for,” she added with a rare devilish grin.
It was like the old Letty, Erin thought, relieved things were starting to seem a bit more normal between them.
She turned in front of the mirror. The bodice of the dress was crusted with tiny, precious pearls in white and smoke shades. From the narrow waist, the cascade of shaded colors began, from palest pink to deepest rose, with
an overlay of pearl-studded chiffon. The sleeves were poufed, also interspersed with precious nacres.
For any other occasion, Erin knew she’d be thrilled over such elegance. The concept behind the Rose Ball, however, she found degrading to women. “You know something, Letty?” she couldn’t resist proclaiming. “In a way, the only difference between tonight’s ball and a slave auction is hypocrisy.”
At that, Letty scurried from the room, not about to indulge in such a delicate topic of conversation.
When Erin entered the parlor, her mother cried, “Dear God in heaven, child, you’re beautiful!” Quickly she set aside her sherry and crossed the room to embrace her gently and exclaim with shining eyes, “I’m so very proud to be your mother.”
Zachary Tremayne felt anything but fatherly as his eyes drank in the stirring sight of his stepdaughter. He didn’t dare stand, lest the desire she’d so instantly evoked be obvious in his tight trousers. He raised one hand, still holding his drink, in a toast. “To the most gorgeous enchantress Virginia has ever seen,” he said.
Erin murmured an obligatory acknowledgment but didn’t look his way. She could actually feel the heat of his stare from across the room and wondered why her mother didn’t sense it. Yet Erin knew it was a blessing she didn’t. The man was evil, a reprobate, and she couldn’t stand even to be in the same room with him.
“I think we’d better leave now,” she said, declining the drink that Roscoe, the butler, offered.
In a thick, husky voice, Zachary protested, “You’ve got time for a sherry. After all, you’re supposed to be fashionably late, make a grand entrance.” He didn’t want her to leave, wanted to drink in the sight of her as long as possible.
Erin bit back a sharp retort. She didn’t want to make any kind of entrance. She intended just to drift in quietly, then find a place to hide till it was all over. Let her mother do the mingling. But, for the moment, she wanted to escape Zachary’s company. With a stubborn lift of her chin, she turned toward the door. “I don’t want to be late. I’ll wait in the carriage.”
She hurried out, and Arlene fearfully turned to Zachary and apologized. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted this little family gathering for us. I’m afraid I don’t know what’s wrong with her these days.”
“Your sister-in-law spoiled her, that’s what’s wrong with her. She needs to taste the lash, learn her place, just like the slaves.” He tossed down his drink angrily.
Arlene whispered, “I’m sorry, Zachary. I’ll talk to her and make her see she’s hurt your feelings.” Quickly, she ran from the room to follow after Erin, lest he lose his temper and forbid them to go.
Chapter Two
Their carriage proceeded slowly along the curving driveway, which was crowded with fine saddle horses and other conveyances. It was not yet dark, but already lightning bugs performed their glowing dance of twilight beneath the canopy of spreading oaks. The velvet-green lawn of Pine Tops plantation was a rainbow of pastel-gowned debutantes. Their glittering jewels vied to outshine the eager eyes of potential beaus.
The mansion was huge and impressive. Wide marble steps led up to the terrace, which swept the front and sides. White columns stretched to the overhanging roof, which shaded both porch and second-floor balcony.
Erin tensed as the carriage pulled up in front of the steps. She could see the receiving line waiting at the top: Tyler Manning and his wife, Opal. Opal was this year’s chairwoman, the reason for the ball being held at Pine Tops. No doubt that was Carolyn, their daughter, standing beside them in a flounced white gown. Erin, who hadn’t seen her in years, wondered if she was still haughty and conceited. Fearfully, she asked, “Surely we aren’t going in the front entrance?”
“Well, of course we are.” Arlene’s laugh was forced, because she was every bit as dubious and nervous as Erin but determined not to show it. “What did you think? That we’d sneak in the back way?”
Erin was mortified. “But they’ll know we weren’t invited, and they might not let us in. I thought we’d just sort of drift in and out, not stay long…and, oh!” She pounded her knees with her fists. “I was a fool to let you talk me into this.”
Arlene crisply reminded her, “You had no choice. And you’re overreacting anyway. It’s not as if I don’t know the Mannings, as well as almost everybody else that will be here, for that matter. Zachary might be a heathen and never darken the door of a church, but I try to live a Christian life, and I’ve met these people either through church or charity work. I consider them my friends, even if I’m not on the invitation list for their parties. Now just relax and be yourself. Act as though you have every right to be here, and no one will say a word.”
“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of!”
“It’s the only way to introduce you to Richmond society, Erin. We have to let everyone know that you’ve reached a marriageable age, and the only way to do that is for you to dazzle them here tonight.” She flashed a spirited smile. “So now, my beautiful daughter, go forth and dazzle!”
It was only with great effort that Erin forced her reluctant legs to carry her up the stairs. Before she was halfway in her ascent, she could see the expressions on the faces of the hosts. First, confusion and bewilderment; then astonishment; and, finally, resentment and controlled anger.
Reaching the receiving line, she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word, but Arlene was the epitome of charm and composure. “Tyler. Opal. Carolyn,” she cooed, grasping their hands in turn. “How wonderful to see all of you again. Erin was so thrilled she arrived from Atlanta in time for your little soiree.” She abruptly whirled away, calling out to someone she knew from church, not about to linger before their contemptuous glares.
Erin was slower, hesitated a fraction of a second too long, and was thus vulnerable to Carolyn Manning’s loud whisper. “You weren’t invited, and you know it! You’re no debutante,” she added with a sneer, turning away as she felt the warning jab of her mother’s elbow in her side.
Erin was well aware of the young men turning to stare appreciatively as she followed her mother inside the grandiose house. She ignored them and turned her attention to the lavish decor. There seemed to be an overabundance of everything—furniture, sculptures, paintings, crystal, gilt—as though the Mannings were desperate to display their wealth.
All around, the ladies were conspicuously gowned and bejeweled, striving, it seemed, to flaunt every precious gem in their collections.
They accepted champagne from a white-gloved servant who looked hot and uncomfortable in a red velvet coat and black velvet trousers.
Arlene led the way to the ballroom, with its waved parquet floor and mirrored walls reflecting myriads of flickering tallow candles that other servants were just beginning to light.
A string ensemble was playing in one corner, and along one wall were banquet tables filled with sumptuous foods. Beyond the French doors opening onto the rear terrace, the huge fountain had been transformed to offer a steady stream of bubbling champagne which flowed over the strawberries lining the bowl. Already, young girls with hopeful suitors hovering were giggling, becoming tipsy.
“Isn’t it like something from a fairy tale?” Arlene breathed in awe. “I’ve never been to a party so lavish.”
Erin felt a wave of pity, as well as guilt over having protested attending. The sad truth was that her mother had probably never been to a ball, or even a tea party, in her entire life. Oh, there’d been attempts to be accepted, always ending in heartache. She could remember the occasion of her tenth birthday, when her mother had planned a gala event, even engaged a traveling circus to perform on the lawn. Couriers were sent to hand-deliver invitations to every prominent family within a thirty-mile radius that had children in the household. But nobody came. So, for her mother’s sake, she made up her mind then and there to endure the evening and to pretend, at least, to have a good time, as long as she didn’t have to indulge in flirtatious contrivances, as she noted the other girls were doing.
Arlene was delighted as Erin easily became the center of attention. The unmarried men flocked about her, begging for introductions, the opportunity to bring her more champagne, asking for dances later on. She truly was a beauty.
Despite herself, Erin was starting to enjoy the ball. Thrilled by the contagious gaiety of her would-be swains, she couldn’t help but be dazzled by so much attention and beguiled by the romantic and lovely music, the wondrous ambience. Her emotions were displayed in her shining eyes and radiant smile.
Erin wasn’t aware of the tall, broad-shouldered man who stood watching her from the shadows of the side terrace.
Ryan had sought escape, tired of coquettish girls who disregarded the fact he was engaged to one of their friends as they clamored for attention. Keith, he was relieved to note, had apparently fallen in love on sight. He and the young lady of his choice seemed to have paired off for the evening. So Ryan had fled to the deserted terrace, willing his boredom to hurry and end, but suddenly found himself fascinated by the tall, tawny beauty who seemed to have mesmerized every male in attendance. He couldn’t figure out who she was, couldn’t remember ever having seen her at any social gathering. But having been away so long, he’d lost touch. He’d even had difficulty in some instances recalling the names of neighbors he hadn’t seen in a while. But, regardless, he knew there was no way he would have ever forgotten one so lovely.
There was also, he noticed, something startlingly different about her. He could tell by the sparkle in her eyes and the way she laughed so easily that she was enjoying herself. Yet the undercurrent of tension and desperation present in the other debutantes, as they sought to bewitch the beaux of their choice, was missing. It was as though she had not a care in the world.
As Ryan continued to observe the raven-haired lovely, Keith appeared at his side. He’d been searching for Ryan, wanting to extol the qualities and charm he’d discovered in Miss Mary Susan Hightower. But Ryan seemed preoccupied. Keith followed his gaze, a frown creasing his forehead as he discovered the reason. He’d overheard Mary Susan and Carolyn Manning whispering furiously about the brazen appearance of Erin Sterling and her mother. With an exaggerated sigh, he airily declared, “Well, I guess I was wrong in thinking there’s no such thing as a ball for potential mistresses. Seems Erin Sterling is turning this into one.”
Midnight Rose Page 2
