by Denney, Hope
“You and I are going to go around together, dear. Porter brings me up here all the time when he signs contracts with Russell Mining. It’s such a treat to walk in the garden out back while they discuss their wretched dealings.”
A young man with black eyes and tanned skin stopped at Phillip’s elbow. His penetrating gaze swept Somerset with daring as his eyes lingered over her expensive dress on loan from Myra. He didn’t look as old as Phillip but the conceited way he carried himself lent itself to being past the flush of first youth. Somerset returned his gaze, noting his burgundy silk waistcoat and bowtie with the same bold touches on his hat. Even confident Ophelia’s lashes fluttered at his arrival.
“You are right,” he said to Phillip. “She is everything you described her to be. I thought you were exaggerating and am beside myself that such a woman exists.”
His speech was articulate but delivered with a heavy seasoning of French accent, and when he smiled wide shallow bowls that were dimples appeared at the corners of his mouth.
“Somerset, this is my attorney. Jules Bernard, this is my fiancée, Miss Somerset Forrest of Orchard Grove, Alabama.”
Somerset held her breath as the swarthy head bent low over his hand.
“He went home to Alabama with grudging and returned with a story so wild no Charlestonian would believe it,” grinned Jules. “Mr. Russell has always taken his independence seriously, but now that you stand before me I can guess why he might want to share his life with you. Are you enjoying our city?”
“I feel as at home here as I do at Somerset Manor.”
“I have heard outsiders tell that we are a hard group to get on with, but I say that we are most lenient toward outsiders.”
Ophelia tossed her head and rolled her eyes.
“Really, Jules? Have we ever been lenient toward anyone in this city?”
“Our traditions are a hard bridle and bit for the outsider to wear.”
“Doesn’t marrying Phillip make me an insider of the city?” asked Somerset. Mischief colored her features. “Or is he an outsider still too?”
Jules wagged his finger.
“She is intelligent,” Jules said to Phillip. “Marrying Phillip makes you whatever you want to be.”
Ophelia squeezed Somerset’s shoulder.
“No one will expect very much of you until you host your first event. People will see your wealth and influence as a reason to judge you so you’ll not want to place one foot wrong. I’ll help you make a success of things, and Mrs. Forrest will also give you names of the best vendors and caterers. You’ll have to learn at a fast clip.”
“I’m going to send you both away before she changes her mind about coming to live here,” said Phillip.
“Mrs. Forrest? Ah, you are of the same family as Winfree Indigo,” said Jules and his eyes lit up. “You are staying at the foundry, no doubt. Mrs. Amelia was one of my first clients when I graduated law school. Mr. Theodore performed my wedding to Agnes. We were his last ceremony before he took up the indigo business.”
Jules pointed to Agnes in line at a buffet of pastries. Her skin was as brown and creamy as his and her night eyes glowed under eyebrows that slashed dramatic arches in her delicately featured face. Somerset didn’t think she looked a day over sixteen.
“She will be a good friend to you when I explain your connection to us. She gets homesick for our home country and will warm to another outsider of the city.”
“Is she old enough to have left the nest?” asked Somerset.
Jules croaked with laughter.
“She was nineteen her last name day. We have been married almost three years.”
Ophelia’s eyes dragged away from Agnes.
“Don’t let him fool you, Miss Forrest. Jules valued his independence as well as Phillip. It was high time he settled. Of course, most of Charleston hoped he would choose someone a wee bit longer in the tooth, but she is a sweet soul even if she does steal the show with that dark, dewy appearance of hers.”
“I would have married you, Ophelia, but I would have had to kill Porter first and he is one of my best clients,” Jules said in his lilting voice.
“If he’s as good looking as everyone else here, perhaps I’ll take up with him,” laughed Somerset.
Phillip kissed her cheek.
“You and Ophelia seem to have made a fast friendship. Can I leave you in her care while Jules and I sign a contract with a supplier? I won’t leave you alone for half an hour, my love.”
“You may. I’m having a fine time. I’m going to get a nibble to eat and make sure Ivy and Joseph are treading social water in this sea of people. Don’t worry about me.”
Ophelia took Somerset’s arm and led her through the crowd, where she was introduced to no less than ten ladies and business associates before they made it to a banquet table that almost buckled in the center from the weight of food upon it. Ophelia handed Somerset a plate and a linen napkin and waited while she selected a bite of pastry stuffed with mushrooms and ambrosia served in its own cunning miniature compote.
“He can’t be quiet about you for ten minutes,” confided Ophelia. “He had Porter and I up for Turning Tide’s famous pork tenderloin last week, and Porter was checking the time wondering when we could leave without offending anyone. Porter came to discuss business but Phillip wanted to talk about you. He let it slip that he danced with you and we knew it was a permanent situation. Phillip is adept at it but he hates it. I couldn’t wait to see your face and talk to you when he told me you waltzed together.”
“I often consider how unlikely it was that he and I met when I’ve been off in my own secluded corner in the country,” said Somerset between bites of pastry. “If I were raised in Richmond or Baton Rouge, it would be more probable, but as it turned out, Phillip hails from the same insignificant place as me.”
“He says he’s cousins with a man you were engaged to during the war who was killed.”
“Yes, Eric Rutherford. He didn’t make it home. We were in the middle of building a house when he died on a scouting mission. It’s strange. I was a girl and he was a grown man when he died, but from where I sit now, he was just a boy like all the rest.”
Ophelia nodded.
“Yes. I lost my brother in the war. A minié ball got him in the chest and he died a lingering death in a field hospital up north. He was the second oldest in our family and older than I am now, but in hindsight, you get to know people better after they’re taken from you. He was young, just getting started really. We all are until we die, child.”
A firm finger tapped Somerset’s bare shoulder. Agnes Bernard stood at her side looking as though she wished she hadn’t. Her dark cheeks were the color of ripe persimmons.
“Jules sent me over to tell you hello,” she said in a melodic French voice that was almost too heavy to understand. “I have started to speak to you and changed my mind at least three times, but I don’t want to appear unfriendly. I would like to be good friends with someone I am going to see often, especially when you will be far from home like me.”
“It’s good to know you, Agnes. I was just commenting to Mr. Bernard about your youthful looks. I hope you’ll run up to Turning Tide and see me when you can. We’ll have to support each other through homesickness.”
“Agnes is wild over Jules, of course,” said Ophelia, “but she misses France. Our ways seem rough to her. Perhaps you can convince her of our charming ways.”
Ophelia’s kindly brown eyes danced in her face.
“Yes,.” Agnes looked uncertain. “Send me a note when you are back at Turning Tide after the ceremony, Miss Forrest, and I will come up to see you. I fear I don’t know much of Charleston, but I have plenty of tales about the old world and can show you all manner of needlework and even lacemaking if you are interested.”
Somerset reached out and squeezed the girl’s hand.
“I’ll send you my card the week I am back,” she promised.
Agnes’s smile was as gentle as candlelight as she ba
cked away.
“I will see you in March then,” she said.
Ophelia pressed her hand to Somerset’s shoulder blade.
“You need to watch out for her,” she whispered.
“She’s as sweet as they make them. She reminds me of my youngest sister somehow. Why?”
“There are dozens of women in this room who would do anything to trade places with you, and she’s one of them. The difference is that she’s young and attractive enough to make it happen with a little persistence.”
“Why would she want to be with Phillip? Her husband is bursting with wit, charm, and handsomeness.”
“I hear he isn’t kind to her at home. She’s not much more than a novelty to him.”
“Does Phillip realize that she plays up to him?”
“Phillip realizes that everyone plays up to him.”
Somerset considered this for a moment while relief set in.
Ophelia patted her.
“It isn’t a nice thing to tell you, Somerset, but you ought to know. Phillip thinks I should be responsible for you because he and Porter have been doing business since he bought the mine. I think you should know that all the smiling faces aren’t real. You’ll get along far better if you realize now that there are people who resent you.”
“It isn’t anything new,” said Somerset, but the sting of it remained.
“No. Women play horrid games with one another. I’m not old enough to be your mother but close enough. We can pretend I’m an older sister.”
“I have enough family,” said Somerset and the tone of her voice proved she meant it. “I hope we’ll be good friends.”
“As much as I’m at Turning Tide with Porter, I hope we’ll be the best of friends,” returned Ophelia.
Hands that could have been steel clamps settled on her shoulders. Somerset knew from the heat that they were Phillip’s. She turned to look him in his bright eyes. His expression was excited although he tried to hide it.
“I want to borrow you,” Phillip said.
“What are we doing?”
“There’s something I want to show you outside.”
Somerset slipped her hand into his and told Ophelia she hoped to see her again before the end of the party.
Phillip led her with long, quick steps out onto the front steps. The dark was as warm and fuzzy as the wings of a moth enveloping them.
“What do you see?” he asked her.
“Nothing,” she replied. “Horses and carriages where we ran out of places to put the guests’ transportation.”
“What do you see across the road?”
“Storefronts. They’re mostly empty.”
Phillip’s arms slipped around her waist and pulled her close but she couldn’t make out his face against the night.
“I fibbed earlier,” he said. “Jules and I weren’t signing a contract with a supplier, but I was arranging a business deal.”
“I’m not shocked.”
“The second building from the left over there with the blue front. Can you see it?”
“I can make out the roof and that’s about all.”
“Do you think it would be of much use as a free clinic?”
“You don’t mean it!” Somerset grabbed the lapels of his coat and his hands caressed the sides of her neck.
“I do mean it. It would give you what you want, and I would get the peace of mind of knowing exactly where you’re working. You’ll cross the street and no farther to follow your heart’s desires.”
“Are you going to come by when I’m on duty and see me?”
“I think I’ll stick to handing out soup, coffee, and bread. After Spotsylvania, I found my capacity for assessing gore went downhill.”
“I wish I had more to offer you in return. Phillip, can we stop talking about it and get married as soon as possible? Joseph and Ivy are here. I don’t need a big ceremony, and there’s no point in going back to Orchard Rest when I consider my home to be where you are.”
“Do you mean that or are you caught up in the excitement of the moment?” he asked, cupping her face in his hands.
“I mean it. We’ve both joked about it quite a bit, but I think in the end we’ll both be happier if we go ahead and get married. Don’t you think it would be fitting to thumb our noses at tradition and please ourselves?”
Phillip chuckled.
“I do.”
“Then let’s see about a license tomorrow.”
He pecked her cheek and moved toward her mouth with a series of slow dawdling kisses.
“We’ll see about a license tomorrow. Now give me a proper kiss before I go sign the papers on your new office.”
Somerset turned up her lips.
“You’ll find me inside telling Ivy that we’re moving up the wedding date. Hurry back, Phillip. I want us to go on a tour of the building.”
“I’ll hurry back to you. I can’t wait to show you, Mrs. Russell.”
Somerset’s whole body felt as though it shimmered to hear him call her by that name.
***
Somerset found Ivy by herself gazing out the back window of the ballroom. She caught her by the bow of her dress and turned her around.
“Such news that I have!” she sang.
Ivy’s face looked like candlewax by the moonlight drifting in the window.
“Ivy, aren’t you having a good time?”
“No, I’m miserable, and this room is suffocating me. I can’t find Joseph. I think he got caught by someone who attended the university with Teddie and can’t excuse himself.”
“You should get something to eat. Have you met any of these people?”
“I’m not hungry, and I don’t feel like mingling with strangers.”
Ivy’s lips were as white as her face and the effect was only heightened by the silvery gown Blanche had insisted upon buying for her before they left Richmond. Everywhere that her palms touched on her skirt left prints of moisture.
Somerset slipped an arm through hers.
“Let’s go on the piazza and get some air. You’ll feel better.”
Somerset led them outside. The piazza was deserted, and Ivy sat down on a wicker chair and put her slippered feet on the nearby table.
“I’m sorry to ruin your party,” she said. “I feel awful.”
“I have plenty of parties coming. I can’t enjoy this one if you’re sick. How long have you felt bad?”
“Off and on for nearly a week. Somerset, I think that I’m pregnant.”
“You haven’t been married that long,” said Somerset. “If you were pregnant, I don’t think you’d know it.”
“I’m sick all day long and I’m late.”
Somerset held on to the Doric railing and inhaled the muggy air. The only role she could see Joseph less in than husband was parent.
“Have you talked to Joseph?”
“No, but he’s bound to notice soon. He’s already commented on my lack of appetite.”
“Give it a few days. We’re far from home and we’ve been eating all manner of food we don’t usually eat. You could be suffering from a bad oyster as much as you are from a baby.”
“I don’t want him to be angry with me.”
“Honey! Why would he be angry? He has as much to do with it as you do.”
“I didn’t think we’d be crossing this bridge so soon. Joseph is—Joseph can be selfish with his time, and I don’t imagine he’ll want to share it with a little one not even a year after we’ve been married.”
Somerset wryly pondered the wisdom of marrying someone who was opposed to having children. It was the one thing she and Phillip hadn’t talked about. She assumed any man his age would welcome a child, and the sooner the better at that.
“You are beside yourself with worry and likely for no reason,” she said and smoothed Ivy’s glossy high bun. “Here is my fan. Keep cool. I’m going to get you a glass of water and find Joseph. He needs to take you back to the foundry to get some rest. Amelia will just have to share her carriag
e with me tonight.”
Somerset let herself back in the house. The night was ready to step up a pace. A band was setting up around a piano in the corner of the ballroom and the caterers returned with fresh silver tiers of hors d’oeuvres while someone else put urns of phlox everywhere. Somerset smiled when a gentleman at her back mentioned a fireworks display. She hadn’t seen one since Eric brought some home for Christmas on his furlough when he, she, and Victoria had set them off in the sprawling yard of Margaret’s Glade.
Joseph supported himself against a wall, cornered by a sharp-dressed gentleman who discussed Appomattox as though he’d had enough bourbon. Joseph backed away an inch at a time, looking irritable and tired. Somerset waved at him.
“This has been a fascinating discussion,” he said, and turned his boots in her direction and departed while the other man still spoke.
“Joseph, Ivy is on the piazza. She wants to go home. I can ride with Amelia or Phillip can bring me by later.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“She says she feels sick.”
Joseph’s shoulders heaved.
“I shouldn’t have brought her out here. She’s been looking peaked, and I know I’m to blame.”
“You do?”
“Of course. Since we’ve been married, how many roofs have I dragged her under? How many have been welcoming? A girl who’s never been away from home like her is probably pining for her mother. Meanwhile, I’m dragging her from pillar to post as if on a museum tour of our family’s follies.”
Somerset wound her handkerchief around one palm.
“I don’t think that’s it.”
“Well, I do. I’m going to take her home and ask Amelia’s staff to put together a meal for us, and we’ll pass our night curled up in front of the fireplace. She doesn’t do well with large groups and hubbub, my Ivy. She likes to have time to reflect. Let’s go get the poor, sweet thing.”
“Oh, there goes Phillip past the door. I want you to tell him good-bye before you leave. He and I have news to tell you, Joseph, the best news of all. I hope you and Ivy will be supportive.”
They followed Phillip’s black head as he walked toward the back office with a ledger held before him.
“He never stops working, not even at his own engagement party,” said Somerset. “He’s bought a clinic for me, Joseph! It isn’t a clinic now, but in a few short weeks it could be. I’ll be cleaning wounds and splinting limbs just as I’ve dreamed of doing for years. He only has to finalize the contracts and one of the buildings across the street is all ours.”