by Denney, Hope
Somerset enveloped herself in the towel and stepped out of the water.
“I daresay she’ll be bored out of her mind here. I see Mother’s point about being inconvenienced. It’s strange that we don’t know Myra or Uncle David, though. She said there’s a party tonight? Sawyer told me about it and I didn’t intend on going.”
Somerset strove to make it sound as if nothing were amiss between her and Sawyer.
“You might have escaped it if Mother hadn’t taken a sick headache. We’re not going to get out of it now.”
“Cleo is making supper and Bess is nursing Mother. Do you mind helping me dress?”
Joseph passed them in the hall. He was resplendent in a new jacket that Somerset made for him and Blanche fitted. He had retired his cane and walked with only a suggestion of a limp as he headed toward them with his pipe hanging from his lips. He looked as much himself as he was ever going to post-injury, and his biceps showed through his sleeves again now that he was working with the animals.
“Where have you been all week?” he asked. “I’ll drive us out to the Russells’. I think I’m ready to drive again. What man wants to be driven to a party by a lady?”
He blew a smoke ring.
“Mother said no smoking in the house,” said Victoria.
“Mother has the vapors and won’t venture out of her room for the next two days. By then the house will air out. Don’t be sticklers for the rules. Plaster on some smiles. We’re bound to have a nice evening with everyone else staying home.”
“I’m ignoring you for my own well-being,” said Somerset. “I’ll have to tell Sawyer to lock the liquor up so you won’t be in your cups by eight o’clock.”
Joseph laid his hand over his heart in mock hurt.
“There’s nothing you can do about the punch bowl.”
When they were in Somerset’s room, Victoria laced Somerset for her new lavender silk that was intended for Richmond.
“Will the gentleman in question be there tonight?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“You must be nervous.”
“You’ve given me some perspective. I can’t undo or remedy what he did, but I refuse to spend the rest of my life wallowing in it. I have to heal somehow. Tonight will be the first step.”
Victoria half-carried and half-dragged the gown from Somerset’s closet, and with exertion and heavy panting, they managed to get it over Somerset’s head. Somerset basked in the drape of the fabric against her body and the way the overskirt was tied up by a dozen dark bows to show off a shimmering warm ivory underskirt beneath.
“You look perfect,” sighed Victoria. “You won’t make any female friends in Richmond, but you’ll be so deep in callers that it won’t matter. I wish I were going.”
“There’s no reason why you can’t,” replied Somerset.
“I’m not leaving Warren, and he can’t come with us so that leaves me at Orchard Rest. I wonder what Mother will say to Cousin Myra about him.”
Somerset met her sister’s eyes in the mirror.
“I’ll bet that’s what really brought on her sick headache. She’s tired of having to think up excuses all the time to save face. Life would be easier if she would say what needs to be said about Warren and move on.”
Victoria began pinning Somerset’s hair to the top of her head.
“I wonder if Holt will be there,” she said.
“I’m sure he will. Are you sweet on him?” Somerset laughed.
“He’s very nice. He paid me plenty of attention at Joseph’s party. It might be nice to see him again. Do you think he’s handsome?”
Somerset thought of Holt’s kind, nondescript face in her mind’s eye and saw nothing objectionable about him but couldn’t recall so much as his eye color. He wasn’t her idea of a man to steal a girl’s heart, but she realized that coming from the Harlow family and with the specific care Victoria required after Warren’s birth, Holt could understand Victoria’s circumstances more than any other bachelor in the Grove. He was saving to go to medical school.
“I think he looks like a hero out of a novel,” confided Somerset, “and if you tell me to, I’ll switch the place cards at supper tonight so you’ll be certain to sit with him.”
“Somerset, I’m not nearly so brave.”
It was well known that Eric Rutherford switched place cards at the Christmas ball at Orchard Rest to get access to Somerset. He begged and pleaded permission of the Forrests to court her, and while they approved of him, they denied his requests in order to fuel the flames of his interest. They decided long before Somerset was of age that an alliance with the Rutherfords would be sound for their plantations and friendships. Not even Theodore’s entreaties could sway Blanche to let his friend take Somerset for a walk. Blanche never dreamed that Eric would pay Cleo fifty dollars before supper to let him sneak into the dining room and switch place cards. When the meal was served, Eric smiled like an angel at Blanche and slid into a chair beside Somerset.
“I would like to sit with him,” said Victoria.
“I’ll fix things for you.”
Warren ran into the room banging a spoon on an old pot like a drum. He climbed up Somerset’s silk lap and embraced her middle.
“Want bread and butter.”
Somerset snuggled the little boy and gave him a brief tickle as she looked at Victoria’s dark ringlets adorning his head and the pale green eyes that came from no one in their family.
“I’ll fix a biscuit with butter and molasses and give you beans, too,” said Victoria as she picked him up. “Grandmother is sick tonight. Can you be a good boy and be quiet while I go out?”
“Tuck taking me to see the chickens ’fore bed.”
“Good. Feed them but don’t pull their tail feathers out this time. Somerset, I don’t need help dressing. Remember that Dr. Harlow is on his way to see you.”
Victoria left with Warren. Somerset opened her jewelry box and removed the massive garnet ring Sawyer gave her as an engagement ring, along with the pearl earbobs he bought for her on a recent trip to Ashville. She placed them in a handkerchief and added his daguerreotype. It was an excellent likeness that captured his sensitive mouth and worried eyes. They were not washed out as in Eric’s. She thought he could see her through the photograph. Her stomach cramped from looking at him.
“You took my past but I still own my future,” she told him as she knotted the lace corners.
She went downstairs to meet Dr. Harlow.
***
Chapter 9
Joseph ushered his sisters onto the wagon seat while Cleo, Jim, and Franklin rode in the back. Sarabeth hired them for the evening to help with serving food and chaperoning, and any evening that didn’t involve nursing their mistress’s ailments seemed promising to them. They chatted and laughed, feeling comfortable to be under Joseph’s carefree leadership, as he set off for Riverside. Jim was courting Lizzie, the Russells’ cook, while Cleo was determined to get their muscadine jelly recipe once and for all. Blanche had spent the last three years coveting it, but Sarabeth and Lizzie were closemouthed about their cooking.
Dr. Harlow had been puzzled to be called for Somerset. He pulled down her eyelids, made her stick out her tongue, and listened to her heart. He said he saw nothing wrong with her except that she needed what all ladies needed, less work and more leisure time, and then he pronounced her well enough to go dancing if she would promise to remember to rest between dances. Then Thomas led him upstairs to see Blanche, and he was still upstairs when the Forrests left to go to Riverside.
“I love a good evening away from home,” proclaimed Joseph. “This is my first since I was hurt. Old Mrs. Russell throws a nice get-together. They were really nice before the war, too. Remember her crab cakes? Try to get Lizzie’s crab cake recipe, Cleo. You hear?”
“Where we gonna get crab?”
“I’m amazed she lets you in her home after that last party you attended,” sniffed Victoria.
“You aren’t old enough to reme
mber just what I did.”
“She’s old enough to know that no one comes back in their skivvies from a raccoon hunt,” said Somerset.
The entire wagon exploded with laughter. Jim, close to Joseph since childhood, laughed the loudest.
“I was drunk,” said Joseph. He tried to sound contrite.
“Well, that was the only time I’ve ever seen Mother whip anyone with a switch, although she threatened it daily,” added Somerset.
“I don’t recommend being switched naked,” said Joseph, “and I was too old for that punishment. I was, what? Eighteen?”
“You were old enough to know better.”
“It was a brilliant evening up to that point. Lorena Hall let me kiss her.”
“Would you look at that?”
Riverside sat glowing in the darkness. Candles shone in every window, the drapes having been tied back. The house seemed to be golden with light. Clever lanterns painted gold were illuminated from within by candles and lined the wide sloping steps and the walkway. Even the drive was curtained by the little boxes of light, and all the trees and docks by the river shone with strung lanterns. The white-clothed tables spilling out of the house onto the lawn seemed only an extension of the rushing water beyond and the effect of the décor was heightened by the band playing off the porch. As they drove up and someone hastened to take the reins from Joseph, it sounded like an upbeat improvisation of “Auld Lang Syne.”
“I forgot all about her lanterns,” said Somerset. A tear ran down her cheek. Her soul felt tender, and after all the pain she suffered, such beauty was hard to bear. “They always made for the prettiest balls. It’s a wonder the army didn’t commandeer them just for spite alone.”
Joseph swung her down over the wheel, then Victoria, and gave them each an elbow.
“Sawyer said she put everything of value under the slaves’ cabins and the Raiders didn’t have time to search them all,” he said. “I’d forgotten what a proper party looks like.”
Sarabeth and Lawrence Russell descended the steps upon recognizing the wagon, thinking Blanche and Thomas there, and flew upon them all with arms thrown wide.
“Joseph, you old cad! You’re up and about yet! I heard it was a close call. It’s good to see you out tonight,” exclaimed Lawrence in his growly thick voice laden with the scent of pipe smoke.
Sarabeth kissed the girls while Lawrence pinched them under their chins, and Somerset found it difficult not to love her. She was a faded beauty but looked inviting and warm with her gray-showered golden brown hair and dark green eyes. She was sweet and maternal. She would have made a fine mother-in-law. Somerset shrugged the thought away and tried to look at her with unbiased eyes.
“Oh, is Blanche not with you?” she asked as she fanned herself. “I am disappointed.”
“Mother is indisposed tonight so Papa stayed with her,” Victoria said. “We are happy to be here tonight!”
Somerset felt pride at how well Victoria carried herself. Since she spent time on Somerset’s social calls, she spoke without looking at the floor and without a hint of a quiver in her voice. Her hair was almost black against the golden beige of Somerset’s loaned dress and her cheeks were rosy pink. Her hazel eyes shone ocher from the candlelight surrounding her.
“What? It’s not catching, is it? Oh, I didn’t mean it that way, Lawrence! Is Dr. Harlow here yet? Should we send him? I’ll send her a big bottle of my cherry cordial as a party favor. It clears up all kinds of sickness.”
“Dr. Harlow was seeing to her before we left,” said Somerset.
Sarabeth glided up to her and raised her head to kiss her cheek.
“You beautiful thing! Do you see this face, Lawrence? It’s a shame her sister is named Helen. She should have been named Helen. She has a face that could launch a thousand ships. Is it any wonder Sawyer hangs about Orchard Rest so much?”
She turned and tapped Joseph.
“He pretends it’s all about plowing, hammering, and harvesting with you, young man, but I know better. It’s about this girl right here. Come with me, dear. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”
She detached Somerset from Joseph’s arm and pulled her up the front steps. A dozen ladies and a good many more gentlemen called out greetings to her as they went up, and Somerset indiscriminately threw up a waving hand to them all. She was dazzled by the music, the hundreds of lights, and the sensational smell of food floating out to her. Sarabeth was always kind to Somerset and made a point of singling her out whenever she saw her. She knew the children courted and wanted Somerset to be as at ease around her as a big sister.
“My wedding dress wasn’t as fine as what you’re wearing now, and we had guests from fifteen states,” Sarabeth said to her in her jolly way as they went up the last step.
“You’re too kind.”
“Believe me, I know these things. You’ve been in black since poor Eric Rutherford died. After he fell, it was one tragedy after another. Your dear mother’s family always mourned for well past the proper length of time. When your pa brought her here from Somerset Manor, she mourned Theodore for a full year although she only had to for six months. She taught you girls well.”
Jim rushed to open the front door for them, having been delegated to letting people in and out for the night.
“My oldest son is home, my dear. You must meet him. I don’t see him about at the moment, though, my Phillip. We haven’t seen him since the war, really before the war—he’s so much older than the rest of ours. The good Lord made us wait to round out our family. Eve and Laura are waiting to see you. They’ll be wild over your frock, and they’ve been asking about you for days. Look, Somerset, there’s Helen and George. Oh, hello there! Ninety people are coming tonight, all because I wanted to throw a party. Can you believe it? I’ll be written up in the Tuscaloosa papers if I’m not careful.”
Somerset observed Helen on George’s thick arm as they chatted with Evelyn Buchanan about something dull or proper. Not even her new black gown with its yards and yards of white satin trim could disguise her recent pregnancy, but she looked happy and well. Her stance beside George said she was clearly enamored. Somerset shook her head at the vagaries of what made people fall in love. She smothered a smile and raised her hand in greeting, then made a mental note to go speak to them when Mrs. Russell released her.
“Come, my dear,” said Sarabeth, squeezing her arm. “See the dining room. Obviously it won’t hold everyone so we have all the picnic tables scattered down to the river. This is where my family will dine tonight—and Joseph since he is infirm—and we’ve set up the food buffet-style on the porch. See those candlesticks? My great-grandmother brought them over from London when she sailed. We hung them upside down from the rafters in Mitzi’s cabin, and no one ever saw them. I’d forgotten about them myself until just last year. Mitzi laughed fit to kill when I asked her why she didn’t bring them to me, said she forgot they were there herself. Look at the buffet. I can’t thank Cleo enough for the mountain of chicken she fried for us yesterday or your dear mother for selling it to us at cost. She is a dear. The Marshall women are always such sweethearts.”
Somerset felt amazed at the porch buffet. Beyond the massive chargers that displayed Blanche’s livelihood were platters of the Russell ham and barbeque, enough to feed an army or, at the very least, Century Grove. Somerset, tired of chicken at every meal, suddenly saw the benefit of raising pigs as a career and felt hungry at the provocative odor of sweet, salty meat on the air. There were skillets of cornbread, pots of greens with thick cuts of side meat, and pans filled to the brim with the last of the corn for the year. Biscuits rose up light and airy on the ends of both tables, flecked yellow with butter, and the familiar odor of black-eyed peas drifted through the air to her discerning nose. She knew the Russells, not being as wealthy as other neighbors in the Grove, had been less affected by the fallout of Reconstruction than most. They went on running their modest pork plantation with less sacrifice than anyone could expect, tightening thei
r belts by only degrees while everyone else teetered on the brink of losing everything. Still, Somerset knew that many families in the Grove must have sold food at cost as her mother had to fund such a party. Her heart warmed at the sense of community her neighbors felt for one another and wondered how anyone got by in cities like Richmond.
“It is wonderful to behold,” winked Sarabeth. “Just think, I haven’t shown you the dessert table yet.”
“Cleo used to make a fudge pie on purpose for me with a meringue two inches thick,” reminisced Somerset.
“I’m not saying I had one made up for you, but with eggs so very common nowadays, you might find one on the table,” Sarabeth said with dancing eyes.
“Joseph said he’d forgotten what a proper party was,” said Somerset. “I’d forgotten, too, but when we drove up and saw the house lit up like a sunbeam and heard ‘Auld Lang Syne’ playing, it made me cry. I haven’t heard a band playing that since Mr. Rutherford came home his last Christmas!”
“I thought we’d all drink a cup for old times past—even if it is just for tonight. Now I’ll stop monopolizing your time. I saw the mad rush over you when you arrived, and I’ll let you young people get back to the good times you deserve,” Sarabeth said and, giving her a kiss on the cheek, she stepped back into Riverside, leaving Somerset on the back steps with startled company.
“I came out here to give you a wide berth if you came tonight,” said Sawyer.
He stood in his best gray jacket, with his hands jammed in his trouser pockets, looking abashed. It was obvious he’d been drinking, but he didn’t wear Joseph’s bright-eyed alert look. He looked tired and untidy.
“Indeed?” asked Somerset. She took a step back.
“You look well,” he croaked. “So very well.”
“I feel well, and I came to have a good time. I’m not letting you destroy what’s left of my life.”
“And I don’t want to.”
He took two long steps toward her. She noticed how dark green his eyes appeared by moonlight and how tall he was compared to her. He placed his hands on either of her shoulders and she couldn’t help but feel threatened.
