Central Park Rendezvous

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Annie stared at William, her wide eyes brimming with tears. Her lips trembled. Her gaze bounced between William and Jackson. She opened her mouth then slammed it shut. Finally, clutching her skirts, she darted from the room. The pitter-patter of her shoes and whimper of her tears echoed down the stairs.

  Jackson glared at William. “If you aren’t gone by tomorrow, I assure you, sir, you will regret my acquaintance.”

  “I fear it is too late for that, Sergeant.” William returned his glare.

  “We shall see.” Shoving his hat atop his head, Jackson spun around and stormed from the room. A second later the front door slammed with an ominous thud.

  William glanced at the stairs where Annie had fled. Should he follow her? Comfort her? Demand the truth? But no, that wouldn’t be proper.

  Permelia sank into the chair her sister had vacated. “Please forgive her, William. I warned her not to entertain that man’s affections. But… Well, she’s endured so much pain.”

  “No more than you, and you haven’t aligned yourself with a blackguard.”

  She gave a bitter chuckle. “I’m afraid that option was not open to me. I lack both the charm and beauty of my sister.”

  She pressed her hands over her skirts as if trying to smooth the wrinkles and remove the stains.

  William found the action adorable. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong on both counts. He wanted to tell her that he’d been unable to keep his eyes from her ever since she’d walked into the room. Now, gazing at her sun-pinked cheeks and the way the loose strands of her cinnamon-colored hair wisped across her neck, his heart took an odd leap.

  “Besides, God has protected us,” she said, “not Jackson.”

  As if drawn by an invisible rope, William took a step toward her. “Such resilient faith.”

  She graced him with a smile. “Isn’t it trials that strengthen our faith? I’m sure you found much solace in God’s presence during the war.”

  William swallowed. “Quite the opposite.” He rubbed his mutilated cheek, numb to the touch. “I could not reconcile a loving God with the horrors I witnessed.”

  Gripping the chair, she stood, her forehead wrinkling. “Do not say such things, William. You cannot blame God for man’s failings.”

  William stared at her, studying her humble stance, her graceful neck and delicate jaw. Before he could stop himself, he reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “You make me want to believe that.”

  Her eyes flitted between his like skittish doves afraid to land. Fear and a yearning that surprised him flashed across them. She tried to say something, but the air between them had vanished, replaced by her scent of wildflowers and sunshine. He drew in a deep breath and caressed her hand, his body thrilling at the feel of her skin. “Why do I feel as though I know you so well, Permelia?” He sighed. “While Annie seems like a stranger to me.”

  “Please don’t say such things.” She tugged her hand from his, making him regret his honesty. “Annie doesn’t mean to be cruel. She is confused, hurting.” She looked away.

  “Why do you always make excuses for her behavior?” Reaching up, he touched her chin and brought her gaze back to his. A curl fell across her cheek. He eased it behind her ear, running his thumb over her skin—soft like the petal of a rose.

  A tremble ran through her. She closed her eyes.

  And William’s restraint abandoned him. He lowered his lips to hers. Moist and soft. Just as he had imagined them. But what he had not imagined was how welcoming they would be. The room dissolved around him. Nothing mattered but Permelia and the press of her lips on his, her sweet scent, her taste. Then she pulled away, but ever so slightly. Their breath mingled in the air between them. What was he doing? He tried to shake off her spell, but it wrapped around his heart, refusing to let go.

  She raised her gaze to his, candlelight reflecting both confusion and desire.

  He ran the back of his hand over her cheek, longing to draw out the precious moment. Pressing his lips on hers once again, he pulled her close.

  When a footfall padded outside the parlor.

  Followed by a gasp.

  Permelia pushed away from him. Remorse screamed from her eyes before she darted from the room.

  Tossing off her quilt, Permelia swung her legs over the bed and lit a candle. She’d spent the past several hours listening to the wind whistling past her window, the distant hoot of an owl, and the creak of the house settling. Or was someone else up and moving about? She gave up trying to tell. Regardless, sleep eluded her. Along with her sanity and possibly her salvation.

  She had kissed William! She’d allowed him to touch the bare skin of her hands, her cheek. Her lips.

  Shame lowered her gaze to the sheen of moonlight covering the wooden floor. There was no excuse for her behavior. She knew that. Had begged God for His forgiveness. Had prayed it had all been a dream. But the tingle that still coursed through her body told her otherwise.

  When William had grabbed her hand, her heart had all but stopped. She should have pulled away then. Should have resisted him. Then when he had caressed her cheek, her breath escaped. And she couldn’t move.

  But when his lips had met hers, Permelia’s world exploded in a plethora of sensations: the scratch of his stubble on her chin, his masculine scent filling her nose, his warm breath caressing her cheek. She felt as though she were another woman in another world. A world where William loved her, not Annie.

  Thank God a noise from the foyer had stopped them or who knows how far into debauchery she would have sunk.

  Sliding from her bed, Permelia hugged herself and started toward the window. But why had William kissed her? She could make no sense of it. No doubt it was simply an emotional response, a need for comfort in the face of Jackson’s threats and Annie’s rejection.

  Hinges creaked behind her. A loud crash sent her heart into her throat. She spun around to see the door bouncing off the wall and Annie charging into the room like an angry apparition. Setting her candle down, she approached Permelia, her eyes molten steel.

  And Permelia knew she had seen William kiss her. She tried to back away, but Annie raised a hand and struck her across the cheek. “How dare you?”

  Pain radiated across Permelia’s face and down her neck. Laying a hand on her stinging skin, she lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry. I… he… I don’t know how it happened.” A sob caught in her throat. “Oh Annie, I’m so sorry. It was nothing.” But she lied even now. William’s kiss had meant everything. Even so, she was nothing but a shameless hussy—a woman who had kissed another woman’s fiancé.

  “You’re sorry! That’s all you have to say for yourself?” Annie’s voice boiled. “I’ve been pacing my room all night trying to figure out how my loving sister could justify kissing my fiancé.”

  Permelia had no answer. No excuse. Gathering her resolve, she finally looked at her sister, absorbing the scorn, the hatred searing in her eyes. Permelia deserved it all. The vision of her sister blurred beneath a torrent of tears.

  The fury on Annie’s face faded, replaced by a haunted look.

  “Wasn’t it enough that you stole Father’s heart from me? That he always loved you more than me?”

  “That isn’t true.” Permelia took a step toward her, her mind reeling.

  Annie spun around, sending her silk night robe twirling in the moonlight. She lowered her head and sobbed. “Yes it is. And you know it. Perfect little Permelia.” She waved a hand over her shoulder. “Papa’s eyes always lit up when you came in the room.”

  Permelia’s heart sank. She’d never realized. Everyone adored Annie. All the young boys at school. All her friends. Mother. “I’m so sorry, Annie, I didn’t—”

  Annie’s eyes flashed. “William doesn’t love you.” Her gaze traveled over Permelia with disdain. “How could he love someone like you?” Then with a lift of her chin, she floated from the room on a puff of white silk.

  The slam of the chamber door thundered through Permelia’s heart.
Her legs gave way. Sinking to the floor, she dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. How could she have missed Annie’s pain all these years? The rejection she had felt from their father? While Permelia had relished in her father’s adoration, Annie’s heart had been breaking. Selfish, insensitive girl. Permelia pounded the carpet with her fists, watching her tears fall and sink into the stiff fibers. Finally, hours later, she collapsed in a fit of exhaustion.

  The sweet trill of birds drifted on the first glow of dawn. Permelia woke with a start. Struggling to stand, she brushed the tear-caked hair from her face and gazed out the window. Across the fields, darkness retreated from the advancing light.

  And she remembered that God’s mercy was new every morning.

  “Thank You, Lord. Thank You for Your mercy and forgiveness.”

  Now she must do her best to gain Annie’s. And to be a better sister. A better follower of Christ.

  But one thing was for sure. For the remainder of William’s time at the plantation, Permelia must do everything in her power to avoid him.

  Chapter 6

  Rubbing his eyes, William entered the dining room, lured by the smell of coffee and biscuits and the hope that he’d have a chance to speak with Permelia about their kiss. A kiss that had kept him up most of the night. A kiss that still lingered like a sweet whisper on his lips. A kiss he should never have stolen. A touch of her skin he should never have enjoyed. All behaviors so unlike him. Behaviors that were no doubt caused by the weariness of war, coupled with the pain of Annie’s inability to look at his face.

  He sighed. Regardless of his attraction to Permelia, he had vowed to marry Annie. And a Wolfe never went back on his word.

  Approaching the buffet table, William poured a cup of coffee when a sound brought his gaze to the door. Pressing down the sides of her skirt, Annie flounced into the room. Her bright eyes glanced over him but did not remain.

  “William, I hoped to find you here.”

  He froze, stunned by her presence so early in the morning.

  “Well, don’t just stand there, William.” She tilted her head, a coy smile on her lips. “Tell me how beautiful I look.” She sashayed toward him. “Like you used to do.”

  William sipped his coffee, admiring the way the sunlight caressed her golden hair. “You know how beautiful you are, Annie. You need no affirmation from me.” He stepped aside as she poured herself a cup of tea, a pleased look on her face. Had she always been this vain?

  He cleared his throat. “What I’d like to know is the truth, Annie.”

  “About what?” She plucked a biscuit from a tray, grabbed her tea, and moved to the table.

  “You know about what.” His gaze followed her, though he found no allure in the bow-like pout on her lips or the sway of her silk bustle. “I refer to Jackson Steele. You left before answering the sergeant’s question.”

  She waited for him to pull out her chair. “Why William, I’ve already told you why I befriended the man.”

  After seating her, William retrieved his coffee from the buffet and sat opposite her. “Somehow he seems to have gotten the wrong impression.”

  “Indeed. He’s become quite obstinate.” She bit her biscuit.

  “Perhaps because you refuse to tell him the truth. Or perhaps it’s me to whom you’re lying?” He raised his brows.

  “How can you suggest such a thing?” Sky-blue eyes locked upon his then shifted to the right side of his face. Gulping, Annie looked away.

  Oddly, her aversion no longer pained him. He thought of the familiar way Jackson had gazed at her. The way he had called her “love” still rankled William but not in the way it should.

  “I find Sergeant Steele’s intimate tone with you most inappropriate.”

  “What are you implying?” Her eyes misted. Four years ago, those glistening tears would have brought him to his knees before her, begging her forgiveness.

  Instead they pricked his suspicion. “Nothing. I demand honesty. And that you choose one of us.”

  “Why, William, I have chosen.” Yet the wobble in her voice did not convince him. She set down her biscuit and dabbed a napkin over her lips. “Let’s go for a picnic today, shall we? Perhaps if we spent time together… like old times.” She gave a sad smile and gazed out the window before facing him again.

  William finished his coffee, setting the cup a bit too hard on the table. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he had expected too much from someone as delicate as Annie—expected her to accept his disfigurement as if everything were the same. He chastised himself for his impatience. Beneath all the fluff and southern charm, lurked a woman of substance, of character, and of faith—the woman he had fallen in love with through her letters. Perhaps it would just take time for that part of her to surface.

  And for the first time since he arrived, Annie seemed willing to try.

  Permelia entered the room. Tossing his napkin on the table, William stood, an unavoidable smile spreading across his lips.

  She flinched as if shocked to find them there. A breeze toyed with the hem of her lacy petticoat. She’d arranged her hair in one long braid that hung down the front of her gown. Her eyes latched upon his then quickly sped away as a pink hue crept up her neck onto her face.

  “Oh Permi.” Annie rose, pressed down her skirts, and glided to William’s side. Flinging her arms about his neck, she kissed him on the cheek. His good cheek, of course. “William and I are going to take the carriage out for a picnic today. Aren’t we, William?”

  William blinked, confused at the sudden display of affection. “Just for a short while.” He conceded. “However, Miss Permelia, I fully intend to help you and Elijah with the chores.” He wanted to help with the chores.

  Permelia gazed out the window. “Do not concern yourself, William. You and Annie need time to become reacquainted.” Yet, she wouldn’t look at her sister. That coupled with the palpable tension in the room since her arrival made William wonder if the noise he’d heard in the foyer last night had been Annie.

  “Besides, Elijah and I are going into town.” Permelia turned to leave.

  The room threatened to grow cold in her absence. “To help at the hospital?” William asked.

  She halted but did not turn around. “I teach Negro children to read and write at the church once a week.” Then she disappeared, the clip of her boots fading down the hallway.

  Annie released his arm and sighed. “Have you ever heard such a thing? A few years ago, a person could be hanged for teaching slaves. Why ever do Negros need to read and write anyway?”

  Dragging the stool to his bedside, William set the lantern atop it and sat on his straw-stuffed mattress. A night breeze strolled through his window, bringing with it a reprieve from the day’s heat and the scent of wild violet and hay. Despite the pleasant evening, William had been unable to fall sleep. He untied the bundle of letters in his hand and opened the first one. Holding it up to the light, he scanned the elegant pen and sweet words of his precious Annie:

  Dearest William,

  Your last letter brought me great joy as well as deep sorrow. Joy to know that you survived your last battle and sorrow to hear of the death of your friend, Major Mankins. I know how much his good company meant to you, and I grieve alongside you for the loss. May God fill you with His comfort as you continue to fight this senseless war. Know that you are not alone in your suffering. I cry along with you and long for the day when I can cry in your arms. Tears of joy instead of pain.

  You asked how we fared here under the occupation. I suppose now that word has reached you of the fate of Williamsburg I can mention our predicament. For I did not wish to burden you with our meager problems when you have so much responsibility weighing upon your shoulders. But let me allay your fears, dear William. The Shaw plantation stands, and we are all well. God’s wings of protection cover us, and in Him we abide.

  Please know you are not alone. God and my love are with you always.

  Oh brave, wise William. You are ever in my heart and pray
ers…. Annie

  Releasing a heavy sigh, William gently folded the letter and set it on top of the others on his bed. Confusion stormed through him, muddling his thoughts and twisting his heart. Nothing made sense anymore.

  He’d spent the day with Annie. First they’d taken a carriage ride through the country, followed by a lovely picnic beside a creek, and finally ending with afternoon tea in her father’s library.

  And he could find no trace of the kindhearted, humble, godly woman in these letters in the primped, vainglorious Annie.

  Though her attitude toward him had vastly improved.

  Though she seemed more accepting of his appearance.

  Had she always been this way? Or had the war changed her? Perhaps the war had changed him. He dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed his face.

  Even worse, all the while Annie chittered and chattered about this and that, William’s thoughts had been on Permelia. Though Elijah accompanied her into town, he wondered how she fared, what she was doing, who she spoke to.

  Whether she thought of him.

  And teaching Negro children to read and write. Her kindness astounded him. In all his prior visits to the Shaw plantation, why had he not noticed her? Had he been so dazzled by Annie’s beauty that he’d been blinded to the golden heart within her sister?

  But he had no choice now. He was espoused to Annie. And to break off the engagement would bring irreparable shame to her, not to mention to his family. The Wolfe honor was as solid as the ships they built.

  And just as unsinkable.

  Picking up the letters, he pressed them against his chest. He must set aside his foolish admiration of Permelia and trust that eventually the real Annie would shine forth. Hopefully before he had to leave in two days to report to his commanding officer. He would love to have his engagement settled by then so he could enlist his mother to begin arrangements for the ceremony in New York while he served his remaining months in the Army.