“An exquisite variety.” Her mother’s stiff smile appeared ready to crack. “They will make an interesting arrangement on the platters.”
Auralie’s back ached from sitting in such a stiff position, but she dared not move and draw attention to herself.
Mrs. Bolden gave a single nod and turned a page. “I’ve selected the following pastries: Bavarian cream, chocolate liqueur, brandied apricot, and sherried fig. Of course the finest spiced tea cakes and petit fours will be a necessity.” She released a sigh, as if she’d spent the entire morning in the kitchen creating the delectable tidbits listed on her paper.
“Mrs. Bolden, I don’t mean to be disagreeable, but none of us are certain when Perry will arrive back on American shores.” Auralie swallowed back a spoonful of guilt at her fib. Disagreeing was exactly what she wished to do. “Hadn’t we ought to wait until he is home before making such lavish plans?”
A tiny frown tilted Gabrielle Bolden’s brow into a V. “The last communication we had from Perry indicated he was sailing on the twenty-fifth of April. Allowing approximately six weeks for the trans-Atlantic voyage, and barring adverse weather, he should arrive within the next two weeks.”
“I see.” Invisible fingers clutched Auralie’s throat. “The letter I received was water stained and the date of his departure was blurred.” Two weeks. She envisioned a prisoner counting off the days until his execution.
Dear God, please intervene. The time is growing so short. I beg You to free me from this marriage.
Mrs. Bolden cleared her throat, her annoyance clearly visible. “Now let us discuss the menu for the ball.”
The woman droned on for the next hour, introducing an extensive list of rich and impressive foods. By the time their meeting was concluded, Auralie didn’t care if she ever saw food again. But she still had to endure a luncheon with both her mother and future mother-in-law. She managed to swallow a few bites but longed to be back on Belle’s side porch, listening to her cousin tease and laugh and watching the lambs frolic in the distant pasture.
While her mother and Mrs. Bolden retired to the conservatory, Auralie slipped upstairs to her room. Exhaustion overwhelmed her and she collapsed on the bed. Within minutes, Mammy tapped on her door and came bustling over to the bed.
“Let me he’p you get that gown off so’s you can take a nap. You look worn to a frazzle.”
As Mammy unfastened the garment, the starch Auralie employed to get her through the hours spent with Mrs. Bolden and her mother evaporated, and she melted into tears. “Mammy, it’s awful. If I have to spend another day with that woman, I’ll lose whatever sanity I have left.” She whirled around to face her dear old friend. “What if Perry is just like her? What if he’s worse?” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t do this.”
Mammy slipped the gown and crinolines off. “There, there, honey girl. Did yo’ fo’get we’s prayin’? We beggin’ God fo’ His mercy, and He hear us. Now you come ovah here and rest, while ole Mammy sit right here in dis chair beside you.”
Auralie curled into a ball on the bed while Mammy covered her with a light sheet. “There is one good thing. Father was called away on business at the last minute, so I didn’t have to face his inquisition.”
“I don’ know what dat is, but it don’ sound good.”
Auralie propped her head up with one hand. “Mammy, I want to go back to Belle’s house.”
A smile twitched around Mammy’s lips. “Did you tell yo’ mama that Miss Belle be in da family way?”
“No! And don’t you say anything. Mother would never allow me to go back if she knew Belle was expecting. She wouldn’t think it proper because I’m yet unmarried.” She snuffled a giggle.
Mammy angled her head and plopped one fist on her ample hip. “What be ticklin’ yo’ funny bone?”
Perhaps it was the depth of her exhaustion, but she suddenly couldn’t stop laughing. Gales of mirth brought tears to her eyes, and she pressed her hands to her stomach and held her midsection. “Oh my goodness…” She wiped her eyes. “When Mother asked about my activities while I was visiting Belle, I had to bite my lip to keep from giggling. Can’t you see the expression on Mother’s face if she knew I’d carried lemonade to Colton and Barnabas, had Sunday dinner with a farmer, helped in the birthing of two lambs, and sat in the meadow grass under a tree getting to know Colton?” She burst into laughter again. “She’d swoon.”
Mammy’s shoulders shook silently and a broad smile split her face. “Honey girl, I jus’ loves hearin’ you laugh.”
Auralie sat up and reached for Mammy’s hand. “I want to go back. As soon as Mrs. Bolden leaves, I want to go back to Belle’s.”
Auralie begged to be excused from the discussion of flower arrangements, candelabras, and string quartets, claiming a headache. It wasn’t a lie. Her head hadn’t stopped throbbing from the moment Gabrielle Bolden stepped through the front door. Thank goodness the woman was leaving in the morning.
A late afternoon breeze wafted through the double doors leading to the small private balcony off Auralie’s bedroom. How many times had she stood out there as a girl, attempting to see past the oaks and pines to the slave quarters hidden beyond the rise behind the stables. Where were those children now—the ones she’d taught to read? Were they still working at Covington Plantation? Had they been sold? Were they still alive?
A shudder rippled through her as she recalled the ghastly scars on Barnabas’s back. She turned away from the balcony and tried to banish the unspeakable picture from her thoughts. Instead, she welcomed the image of Colton and his sheep. She reclined on the velvet-covered chaise and let her eyes drift closed. Colton’s lopsided grin and the newborn lambs eased into her musings. A thrill danced through her stomach when she remembered his hand over hers.
The urgency of the mother sheep’s dilemma and the exhilaration of witnessing the births had taken center stage that day. Afterward, as they’d sat beneath the oak and talked, she didn’t think to tell Colton she’d been bidden to return home in a few days. She knew it was presumptuous to think he’d care whether she stayed or left, but she wanted to think he cared. When the carriage had arrived from Covington Plantation two mornings ago, she remembered pausing to look across the meadow toward Colton’s place. She’d seen him in the cornfield, but the distance prevented her from seeing his face. She wished now she’d told him good-bye.
She shook her head and opened her eyes. “I must stop this. God, unless You act in a miraculous way, I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Perry, not Colton.”
She swung her feet off the side of the chaise and sat up. Colton’s deep-throated laughter lingered in her mind, as did his promise to ask Barnabas if he wanted to learn to read. Her heart smiled imagining the stirring of realization in Barnabas’s eyes when he read his first word. Oh, how she’d love to be there to witness it.
An idea dawned. Of course, why hadn’t she thought of it before?
She rose and crossed to her bedroom door, cracking it open. She peeked out and listened. Her mother and Mrs. Bolden must still be trying to outdo each other over the plans to decorate the ballroom for the upcoming festivities. She tiptoed into the hall and headed toward the attic staircase and the wonderland of adventure hidden away on the third floor. She’d spent countless days up there as a child, exploring and playing games of imagination.
One of the steps creaked beneath her foot. She froze and held her breath, listening. A snicker wiggled its way up her throat when she recalled the times she and Belle spent childhood days creeping through the attic, hoping to avoid detection by the adults. No one came to investigate, so she climbed up the steep, narrow staircase to the whitewashed, chipped door.
The attic appeared much smaller than she remembered, and much more cluttered. Sunlight fell in through two small windows. Sheet-covered furniture created ghostly forms, stacks of crates sat haphazardly arranged, and several rolled up carpets leaned against one wall. But the item for which she searched was nowhere in sig
ht. As quietly as possible, she moved crates and pushed a chair to one side, stirring dust motes that floated in the light streaming from the window, like tiny fairies dancing on sunbeams.
A small chest with a broken latch sat beneath the window. Inside she found dresses she’d worn when she was a child. A tug of remembrance caused her to pick them up and finger the cloth. They weren’t fancy. No ribbons or special stitching, no pearl buttons or satin sashes adorned them. They were the simple dresses she’d worn to play. She sorted through the pile.
And she remembered.
A spark of anger kindled within her. “These are the dresses I took to the slave children. I remember giving these to the little girls when I sneaked down there with a basket of cookies and fruit. How did they get up here in the attic?” There was only one way, and it grieved her to think her father had ordered the little slave girls to give back the dresses she’d outgrown and had given to them. She tucked them back into the chest and closed it, sadness gripping her heart.
The dancing fairies tickled her nose, and she pinched her nostrils shut to ward off a sneeze. A tapestry lay across an unwieldy lump. Auralie moved a birdcage and an old dress form and pulled back the tapestry to find the object of her search—an old leather-bound trunk where her childhood storybooks were packed.
The hinges squeaked when she lifted the lid. She paused and glanced over her shoulder. No footsteps sounded on the stairs—no voice challenged her right to be in the attic. Her hands rummaged through the trunk, extracting volumes to hold up to the light so she could read their titles. Finally her fingers found the one for which she searched.
“McGuffey’s Second Eclectic Reader.” A smile warmed her all the way to her toes. The same book she’d used to teach the slave children to read would unlock a whole new world for Barnabas as well. She closed the trunk lid and replaced the tapestry and other items. Slipping the book within the folds of her skirt, she sneaked back down the stairs to her room.
Chapter 14
Auralie removed her bonnet. “It’s only been a week, but it feels like I’ve been gone for a year.”
Belle’s merry laugh was balm to her soul, and she pulled her cousin into a hug.
“Sam is taking your bags up to your room, and I asked him to open the windows in there as well.” Belle squeezed Auralie again. “Oh, it’s so good to have you home.” She giggled. “I meant it’s so good to have you back.”
“I knew what you meant.” Auralie cocked her head. “Being here feels like what home is supposed to mean.” She looped her arm through Belle’s, and they headed for their favorite wicker chairs on the side porch. “Have you heard any more from Lloyd?”
Belle regaled her with all the details of Lloyd’s last letter. “He said he might come home by the end of June, but only for a couple of weeks.”
“Have you told him yet?” A warm flush filled Auralie’s face. “That you’re…”
Belle shook her head. “Some things you just can’t put in a letter. But I did write that I had a special surprise for him when he returned home.” She sighed. “I could barely contain myself when I answered his last letter. I’m just aching to tell him. He’s going to be a wonderful father.”
Maizie stepped out onto the porch with a tray and set it down on the small table between the two chairs. “I made some fresh lemonade, ‘cause I know it yo’ fav’rite, Miss Auralie. An’ dem cookies be Miss Belle’s fav’rite snickerdoodles.” She leaned toward Auralie. “It be real good to have you back. You make Miss Belle smile.” The black woman grinned and bustled back to the summer kitchen.
“Poor Maizie. I’m afraid I’ve been rather grumpy.” Belle nibbled on a cinnamon-encrusted cookie. “Does Mr. Danfield know you’re back?”
Auralie paused with her frosty glass of lemonade halfway to her lips. She could attempt to pull a veil over Belle’s eyes, but her cousin knew her well. “I doubt it. He’s much too busy with his farm and his sheep to care one way or the other anyway.” She took a long sip of lemonade and allowed herself to hope she was wrong.
Belle arched her eyebrows. “It might interest you to know that he stopped by here two days ago.”
“He did?” Auralie’s heart turned over, and she knew the spark in her voice betrayed her.
Belle munched on another cookie. “I’m so hungry these days. Maizie says I’m eating for two, so I’m supposed to be hungry.”
Auralie waited.
Belle patted her lips with a napkin. “Remind me later to show you the little gown I finished for the baby while you were gone. It’s so tiny, but Maizie assures me it’s plenty large enough for a newborn. I embroidered a delicate design in yellow around the neck, and the stitches—”
“Belle?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to tell me why Colton…uh, Mr. Danfield stopped by?”
The twinkle in her cousin’s eyes belied her innocent expression. “Oh, I thought you were much too busy to care one way or the other.”
“Belle…I said he was probably much too busy. Now are you going to tell me or am I going to confiscate the rest of those cookies?”
Giggles bubbled from Belle’s throat, and she leaned forward as if divulging a great secret. “When I saw him walking across the meadow, I met him on the front porch. He seemed…kind of lost. He mumbled something about lambs, and then he asked if I’d heard from you. I said no, and he just stood there like he didn’t know what else to say.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “It was so romantic.”
Romantic? Auralie couldn’t see Belle’s reasoning, but perhaps being in the family way made her take strange notions. “Is that all? I mean, did he say anything else?”
Belle took on a sympathetic expression. “He asked me if I would give you a message the next time I saw you.” She sighed and tipped her head to one side.
“And?”
“And what?”
Auralie gritted her teeth. “If you don’t tell me what he said, Belle, I swear I’m going to—”
Belle dissolved into a burst of laughter, and Auralie sat there trying to scowl at her cousin. Finally wiping her eyes, Belle fanned herself with her napkin. “He said to tell you the lambs were running and playing. And he said something else—something about keeping his promise.”
A thrill swelled in her midsection. He was teaching Barnabas to read. She couldn’t contain the joy that fluttered through her. A smile spread across her face.
“Well?”
Auralie glanced at Belle. “Well, what?”
Belle crossed her arms over her chest in mock indignation. “Are you going to tell me what this promise is that he’s keeping?”
A song took wing in Auralie’s heart, but this was not something she could share.
“No.”
Belle pretended to sulk, but Auralie knew her cousin wasn’t truly miffed, especially when she gave Auralie a hug and told her she was going to take a nap. Auralie opened her bag and found the McGuffey’s reader tucked in between a chemise and a nightgown. After checking to make sure Belle was asleep, she took the book and headed to the summer kitchen where she found Mammy and Maizie singing while they worked.
“Maizie, are there any more of those snickerdoodles left?”
“They sho’ is. Miss Belle still hungry?”
“No.” Auralie bit her lip and wondered if she should divulge her purpose for asking. “Might I get a dozen or so in a small basket?”
She slid her gaze to Mammy who raised one eyebrow and gave her a knowing look. Maizie fetched a basket and lined it with a checkered napkin, filling it with the spicy confections. All the while, Mammy spoke without saying a word, but her eyes warned Auralie to guard her heart.
“Thank you, Maizie.” She glanced back at Mammy. “I won’t be long.”
It was all she could do to keep from skipping down the stone walkway. With the McGuffey’s tucked under her arm, she set out across the meadow, her focus fixed on the hillside where the sheep grazed. A number of lambs pranced and scampered to and fro, but Aur
alie couldn’t distinguish which ones were the twins she helped birth. The closer she got, the greater the joy in her heart.
She lifted her face to the spring breeze, relishing the feel of freedom. She never realized before how sweet the meadow grass smelled or how soothing the harmony of the birds. What a privilege to drink it in and let it saturate her spirit.
“What are you doing here?”
Auralie jerked her head toward the voice that bellowed across the meadow from the wooded area that bordered Colton’s place. Three men, looking entirely out of place in their tailored frock coats and fancy vests, stood in a cluster at the edge of the woods with measuring equipment. One of them was her brother. She halted as he strode toward her, his expression stormy.
“Dale. What are you doing here?”
He planted his hands on his hips. “Suppose you answer my question first, little sister.”
Her hands grew clammy and her pulse tapped out a staccato beat. “I’m visiting with Cousin Belle.” She turned and pointed. “That’s her and Lloyd’s house.”
Dale glowered at her. “I know where our cousin lives, and Father said something about you visiting her while Lloyd is away. But what are you doing here?” He gestured around them. “This isn’t Lloyd Hancock’s land. It belongs to a man named Danfield.”
She never realized before how much Dale’s voice sounded like their father’s. “I’m aware of whose land it is. Mr. Danfield said I could come and watch the lambs whenever I wanted.”
A sarcastic smirk tipped one corner of Dale’s mouth. “The lambs. I suppose you’re bringing cookies to the lambs as well?” He thumped his fingers against her basket.
Brides of Georgia Page 27
