by Denney, Hope
The gesture moved Somerset in a visceral way. Not only was Fairlee unwilling to reconcile, Joseph wasn’t invested enough in her anymore to try.
Somerset watched a gamut of emotions flicker over Blanche’s face. She opened the box as though she could console herself by finding it empty, but the pear-shaped dark blue sapphire Thomas presented her with as a girl resided lonely in its cushioned home. She snapped the box closed, and for a moment Somerset feared she would devastate her son. His head was already bowed as if imagining the coming slights.
“I tried, Mother. I tried to get her to marry me.”
“I’m not worried about it,” said Blanche, the corners of her captivating eyes crinkling with good will. “I wouldn’t have a woman in the family who passed over one of my sons. I never liked that cheap little girl. If she changes her mind—and I’m certain she will—she won’t be getting my ring back. The next one can come from a general store. She won’t know the difference.”
Joseph’s shoulders rose at least four inches, and he walked to the back yard where he was taking care of Blanche’s poultry duties until he had the strength to make it all the way to the barn and care for the horses.
Blanche began to boil water for tea.
“What happened this time?” she asked. She sounded distressed instead of enraged.
Somerset thought and came up with no answer, true or otherwise.
“Mother, I think they deserve each other, and I don’t know why they keep breaking it off.”
“I’m used to our Joseph not doing things the time-honored way, but I did think matters were going to work out this time. I won’t allow myself to be grieved over it. I think her a nasty piece of work, but it’s insulting that she dropped him the way that she did. I admit that I didn’t want them living under my roof, the one place in the world where I find peace above all others. Joseph wouldn’t have tolerated them living under Evelyn Buchanan’s roof for an instant, and Evelyn wouldn’t have enjoyed having her stepdaughter living there. It did leave them at loose ends for a place to live. Maybe it’s for the best, but I feel slighted.”
“He takes things harder than he lets on,” added Somerset, “and while I don’t think as ill of Fairlee as you do, I’d rather see him with someone less spirited.”
Somerset thought of Ivy, whose ears must be ringing as she waited for news of Joseph and Fairlee. She longed to let her know that Fairlee had departed, but it would only serve to get her hopes up. It would be far better to let her know just how complex the relationship between the disjoined couple was, but there was no breaking Joseph’s trust.
“Things in a marriage are easier when one person is mild-mannered,” observed Blanche, more to herself than anyone, as she began to steep her tea.
Somerset recognized that Blanche was speaking of Thomas and deemed fit to make a conversational noise. He let Blanche have things her way as a matter of course. It was simple when he was never home. He was busy trying to reclaim the steamboat business that her daddy had been cheated out of in a different world in Baton Rouge. The affair followed on the heels of Blanche losing her brother Theodore, a man so rich in Marshall looks and brilliance, that Somerset’s own brother, Teddie, would never begin to measure up to him—a galling idea when one considered how Blanche prized her eldest child. Thomas seemed to live to right the wrongs of Blanche’s grim youth.
Most of the handsomeness of his youth was tempered by the end of middle age. His dark hair was thin and his brown face starting to line. He was a lean man, never eating or sleeping much, with thoughtful hazel eyes that were passed down to all the children except Somerset and Theodore. He was around Orchard Rest more when she was a child but she barely remembered anything about him from childhood, and she was hard-pressed to recall a conversation between them since the war ended. She recognized he must be intelligent and hardworking to be successful prewar and to rise above the hardships of Reconstruction, but his silence and distance made him a stranger. She supposed when the competing person in the home was Blanche, it was easy to be eclipsed in memories.
Somerset wanted to hear the story of Thomas’s proposal to Blanche, but her mother was not a woman who as a matter of habit talked about her youth. The luster of her eyes and the gentle set of her mouth told Somerset that she was reminiscing and she sought to get her to tell her stories out loud. The tale of Thomas’s proposal was a mix of the romantic and macabre, a story made for the society pages of big newspapers but best forgotten.
“Joseph is twenty-seven and not settled,” said Somerset. “How old were you when you married, Mother?”
“Sixteen.”
“Papa was on holiday and came to Baton Rouge to see you.”
“No. We never courted in Virginia although Thomas wished for it. Our families were old friends, and our mothers were visiting. The entire Forrest family came with Mrs. Forrest. To see their faces was something. You would have thought they landed on another continent, it looked so foreign and foreboding to them.” Blanche’s laugh reminded Somerset of flickering butterfly wings.
“Everything went wrong on that visit,” pressed Somerset. “What happened?”
Blanche’s eyes were filmed with a faraway nostalgia that made her eyes resemble blue ice as she looked back over the troublesome, cheating years.
“Our mothers were good friends, but they also despised each other,” she said as she sipped her tea. “You don’t have friends of that nature because you’ve been sheltered out here from the brittle shellac of society living. With competing successful tobacco plantations, one was always looking to outdo the other. When my father, Admiral Marshall, announced he was moving us to pursue the steamboat business, Miriam Forrest was ecstatic. Richmond would finally be her sole hobby. The sewing circles, the church groups, the gardening clubs would be her children to do with as she wished.”
“What happened?”
“They came to visit us after a few years, mostly for amusement, I think, but everywhere Miriam looked made her envious. She didn’t realize that we didn’t sell the Marsh in Richmond. We sublet it for a time and made a profit on it. The Admiral’s success in Louisiana turned her hateful with jealousy. Mother is a domineering, pragmatic woman who can carve out a fruitful life on a slab of marble if she chooses, and when Miriam saw Somerset Manor she became petulant. She couldn’t be satisfied with Brightleaf Manor anymore. She wanted everything that Honor had, and she cursed the Admiral’s ingenuity each night as she paced the guest rooms of Somerset Manor. She emasculated Edward Forrest when she tantrumed each night about the money Mother and Pa spent, the dresses we wore, and the table we set. She demanded that he provide her with the same standard of living. He was cracked after decades of her venomous tirades, and he came up with a way to take Marshall Steam.”
“What did he do?” asked Somerset. She knew the story. It was sewn on her heart, but it sounded better when told by the woman who lived it.
“Pa was in the middle of making improvements to his ships and going through the local banks to get loans. Edward offered him the money at lower interest rates, and not long after Pa accepted, he called in the loans. It was obvious that Pa had been cheated, but there was nothing to be done about. We lost Marshall Steam but not Somerset Manor. Miriam was irate to learn it was paid for in cash on the day we laid the final stone.”
Somerset wrapped her shawl around herself and snuggled deeper into her corner of the settee.
“It was worse than that,” she said. “What happened next?”
“Oh, next.” Blanche shook her head. “What happened next compounded the nightmare and set everything in motion up to this day.
“My brothers and I took the Forrests’ children out boating while Edward was calling in Papa’s loans. We were around the same ages and we’d been in the same circles in Richmond. Thomas was there with his dashing brother Gentry and his sisters, Millicent and Muriel. We dined on the deck of the largest Marshall steamboat while we paddled down the Mississippi. I can’t tell this story without tasting the me
al: roast quail with Bess’s mother’s fig preserves. I haven’t eaten any to this day and figs used to symbolize home to me.”
“I remember you didn’t like Pa.”
Blanche laughed.
“Oh, he was handsome in his observant, unassuming way. Thomas was on the fringe of things. I had eyes for Gentry. Gentry was daring and his hazel eyes used to singe the lace on my basque, he’d look so hard at me. Gentry was a madcap, always telling the most outrageous jokes and squiring so many girls that a handful were always exasperated with him. He caused more duels than anyone I’ve ever known, come to think of it.”
“He sounds like Joseph.”
“I never thought of that, but yes, some of our Joseph came from Gentry. I spent the entire boat ride trying to impress Gentry with everything the Admiral was doing with his industry. It makes me angry to think of it now. He was old enough to know what Edward was doing. He lapped up our hospitality that day even though he was aware his family was sending us to Purgatory.
“After we dined, Muriel went to the railing to admire the view. She was silly and shallow, but she was always dressed like a color plate out of Godey’s. Her wardrobe made Mother’s look conservative. Muriel went to the railing hoping to attract Theodore and when she looked over her bare shoulder at him, she slipped on a slimy patch in her ridiculous shoes and fell under the railing into the water.”
“He tried to save her.” Somerset pulled the shawl up to her chin and gripped it as though she could ward off the chill creeping over her body.
“Theodore stripped off his suit before the rest of us could finish our cries of alarm.” Blanche’s voice purred with pride. “He swam better than the fishmongers at the wharfs or the sea captains on their vessels. He was a golden boomerang as he dove into the water. Only he didn’t return.”
The impact of Blanche’s ending thudded between Somerset’s shoulders with the same brutality as the kick of a rifle or a blow on the back. She’d heard the story from Blanche only once before, but she hoped the ending would be different this time. Blanche’s eyes were dry and distant as she paused to drink her tea.
“He didn’t come back,” echoed Somerset.
“No, he didn’t. Thomas dove into the water and rescued Muriel while your Uncle David lowered the dinghy, and all the servants combed the waters for Theodore. We never found him. I can’t fathom a watery grave as the final home for that boy. He belonged in the family crypt with carved marble and boughs of roses over him.”
“Anything might have happened to him,” said Somerset. “He might have hit his head when he dove or broken his neck when he hit the water. He could have been caught up in the current from the paddlewheel.”
“The fish got him in the end,” Blanche said. “We never found him. He might have changed everything, been a general in the war or became president of the Confederacy. So much hope squandered. So much potential lost. All because a pretty girl in high heels wanted him for herself.”
“Wait a minute!” cried Somerset. “Why wasn’t there a lawsuit or a duel challenge? Why have I never heard about the Admiral demanding justice?”
Blanche’s lips pressed fine.
“He demanded justice. He roared like a wounded bull when he lost Marshall Steam and challenged Edward. They were to fire once at twenty paces. The Admiral’s pistol jammed, and he was unable to signal before Edward got him through the collarbone. Don’t you remember the way he used to hold his left arm?”
Somerset couldn’t.
“The authorities showed up and they both spent time in the jailhouse for disorderly conduct. Pa wasn’t satisfied, but he owned Somerset Manor and all of the Marsh. He announced that he was going back to tobacco farming. With the exception of Miriam, the Forrests were too much objects of hate to ever go home, and the Admiral lost his tobacco competition forever. He made up every penny he ever lost. The Forrests remained in Baton Rouge. I’ve heard that Muriel couldn’t leave the safety of their house because of public sentiment against her. Those were wild, dark days and the people of Baton Rouge thought someone should die to atone for Theodore. Miriam fled to Brightleaf Manor. It seems she didn’t care for money and nice new things so much as the ability to queen herself over everyone else. She found plenty of ways to spend Pa’s hard-earned money, though she was ostracized everywhere she went.”
“Then Pa proposed to you.” Somerset clapped.
“Your pa did something that has turned into storybook lore. He said that if I would marry him, he’d sever all ties with his family and work toward regaining what we lost one day. The only catch was that he didn’t want to live in Louisiana or Virginia. He thought separation would give us room to heal. We were homeless for a year. We roamed across the South, staying with my cousins and family friends. Then we found Century Grove and Orchard Rest was finished just in time to have Theodore.”
Yes, that was the story. Blanche and Thomas settled in time enough to bring Teddie into the world, a throwback to the first Theodore. He would never be as handsome, accomplished, or intelligent as the original, but he brought healing to a damaged girl. Somerset wondered if Thomas felt he’d received a good exchange for all he gave up. Blanche might be beautiful, but she was so particular, spoiled, and temperamental that she couldn’t help but think he had been taken in by her attractive veneer. She could admit he was selfless and brave, but she didn’t know quite what to think of her mother accepting him after all his family did. She wasn’t sure selflessness and bravery were adequate compensation for all that was lost by the wayside.
“I hoped things would work out for Joseph. I’ve thought the love of a good woman might help to ease his burdens since he left New York. I was ill with grief when I married your papa, and I think his care was all that got me through Theodore’s death.”
Somerset latched onto the conversation. Blanche seldom brought up those painful early days.
“Do you ever hear from Uncle David? It’s been the longest time since you mentioned him.”
“David? He lives in Richmond with all the rest of the Marshalls.”
“I’ve never met him.”
“You haven’t? Well, David is different. He keeps to himself a bit more than most of the family. He must take a bit more after Mother’s side, reserved. David also puts me a little in mind of our Joseph. He wants to be part of the picture, just not necessarily in it, so to speak. He distanced himself after dear Theodore drowned. He’s independent, intelligent, and has too much wit. He owns banks in Richmond.”
“Do you ever see him?”
“We cross paths sometimes when I visit Virginia.” Blanche put her cup down again. “Somerset, I plan on taking a trip home soon. I meant to go earlier in the year but Joseph’s unfortunate accident delayed me. I think it’s the perfect time for you and me to make a long visit.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Mother is failing fast and I should check in on her more often than I do in these fragile days. You like Richmond, don’t you?”
“Not as well as I like the Manor,” said Somerset.
“Ah, well. We were just at the Manor last summer. We have plenty of time to summer there but not many seasons left to honor your grandmother.”
“I should stay and nurse Joseph. I’m the only family member with nursing experience. Dr. Harlow says it’s touch and go. He might become septic at any time. He isn’t dependable about cleaning the wounds.”
“He’s well enough that you can show Cleo or Bess how to manage.”
Somerset sat in her chair with the sensation of smothering. She looked out the window and predicted the direction the conversation was about to take. She had no recourse. She dug her fingernails into the hard shiny leather of the armrests and counted in her head to try to calm herself. When she looked back at Blanche, her mother was smiling in a relaxed manner, the picture of tranquility.
“Let’s talk more about it, dear. I think you’ll like what I have to say.”
Somerset said nothing.
“I don’t just worry about Josep
h. I worry about you as well,” continued Blanche in a friendly, conspiratorial tone. “I think it’s high time we put you in the path of some gentleman who has the means to give you the life you dream of having. Richmond is full of young men who are showing promise in their careers and most have breeding like yours. You’re twenty-three, Somerset.”
“I know my age, Mother.”
“Well, people are starting to talk. Here you sit in all your beauty without a husband to speak of. We can get you married, sweetheart. You won’t have to be lonely a day longer.”
“I’m not lonely, I promise. I have Ivy, Joseph, and Victoria to keep me company, and I’m so busy minding the kitchen and the rest of Orchard Rest that I never have a moment to think of being lonely.”
“Don’t you think I know that? You’ve been terribly busy doing your part to keep this ramshackle old place up and running, and we love you for it. Still, wouldn’t it be nice to have a grand house with plenty of servants and help while you organized luncheons and committee meetings with your friends?”
“I’ve gotten used to the way things are. I’m content. I like hosting dinners for our neighbors, and I’m gaining skill at making all of our clothing. I may nurse again. Who knows? I know you don’t understand, but there’s something to working with others. There’s a whole world beyond Orchard Rest.”
Blanche looked at her with a mixed expression as if she didn’t know whether to believe Somerset or whether she should be angry that Somerset wasn’t dying to be the subject of matchmaking in one of the greatest cities in the country.
“Nursing.” Blanche waved her hand and dismissed the idea.
Blanche crossed the parlor and removed the gilt mirror beside the hat rack. She brought it over to Somerset and, standing behind her, she held it in front of her face so they could both see.
