Blood Moon

by Jana Petken

  “Jacob, I’ll tell you about Fort Monroe later. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. But will you forgive me? I give you my word that I won’t do anything with the Underground Railroad again. I’ll swear on the Holy Bible that I won’t. No more running with slaves or disappearing. I just want to be near you. Please tell me I can stay with you – don’t send me back to Norfolk.”

  Jacob rose from the chair and put his hands gently on her shoulders. He would crush her now, he thought. His heart was being ripped apart. “Mercy, please sit. There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Oh God, what have I done? You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

  After she blurted the words out, she put her hands to her mouth to muffle a wretched moan from throwing itself into the air. It was true. She had lost his love. Since the moment he’d walked into this room, she had seen only disappointment in his eyes. There was no spark or passion. He couldn’t even bear her touch. Her fanciful imaginings and visions of her running into his arms, being kissed and crushed to him, were not going to come about. He had tired of her reckless behaviour.

  “Sit, Mercy,” he said again.

  She slumped into the chair, feeling ridiculous in Eddie’s hat, breeches, and Isaac’s shirt. He was probably ashamed of her as well. She removed the hat and sat it on her lap. “Tell me,” she said, defeated now. “Say the words.”

  Jacob nodded. “Mercy, I’ve had time to think about us and our future together. It would seem that I have had a change of heart. Granted, luck has not been on our side. We have suffered disasters and have both made some bad decisions – especially me – but the truth is, I thought our love was strong enough to withstand anything that life had to throw at us … and I was wrong. Love cannot withstand mistrust and lies.”

  “I have never lied to you! Not really.”

  “But I have lied to you,” Jacob said. “I took your innocence while engaged to another woman. It was my fault that Eddie found you and almost killed you. I lied to you when I told you that nothing could divide us, and I was mistaken about that too.”

  “No, stop it! Don’t say that!” Mercy cried.

  “Your need to free slaves may be admirable, but I believe your need to help them has more to do with your saving yourself than freeing them. Saving slaves, Mercy, will not take away the horrors that du Pont and Eddie put you through.”

  “I know that! Helping slaves has nothing to do with my past. How could you even think that?”

  “Because I believe your past is what drives you.”

  Mercy felt tears gathering and was ashamed of them. She felt as though Jacob’s hands were inside her, crushing her lungs. She could barely breathe with the force of his scathing attacks. She wanted him to shout at her and then tell her he forgave her – but he was different. He was dismissing her because of reasons which had nothing to do with love. “Have you finished?” she asked.

  He lifted her chin and forced her to look at him. “Mercy, the need to keep my slaves is why I stand here willing to lay down my life for the Confederacy. But I know you – you will never be able to live with me at Stone Plantation, watching slaves work my land and take care of my house. And I don’t believe I could trust you not to leave our bed and disappear with some of them in the middle of the night. You, with your wild ideas of freedom for all, and your need to defy the law, cannot stand in my world.”

  “Cannot stand in your world? Are you saying goodbye to me?” she whispered.

  “Yes, I think it is for the best – for both of us.”

  Mercy felt the silent tears caress her cheeks. She stared at him, unable to speak, shift her gaze, or even think about what to say. This was a lie. It was all a lie. He loved her – yes, he did! She now saw that love in his eyes. He was battling with his feelings, but he couldn’t hide his love any more than she could dismiss her incessant need for him.

  “Jacob, please don’t do this. Don’t throw me away. I have nowhere to go. You’re the only home I want. There is no future for me without you in it.”

  “I’m sorry …”

  “You’re sorry? Tell me you don’t love me.”

  Jacob turned to stare out of the window.

  “Turn around and face me, you coward!” Mercy shouted. “Say you don’t love me and I will walk out of here and never return.”

  “Love is very often a luxury we can’t afford,” he said. “Believe me: loving a man like me comes at too great a price, even for you. You will find nothing but misery with it. I am doing this for your sake.”

  “You’re doing this because you can’t stand being with a woman who’s despised by your pompous, self-righteous Southern neighbours!” Jacob turned to face her. Hurt and disappointment were evident on his face. She regretted her words. Jacob had been loyal to her. He’d fiercely defended her in Portsmouth. “I’m sorry. That was a mean thing to say. Has your love died? Did I kill it?”

  Jacob took a step forward and then checked himself. “No, you didn’t kill it. Life, this war, and mistakes have killed it.”

  “Mistakes? I see.” Mercy stood up. Her legs barely held her upright. Her tears were blinding her, but despite her desolation, she forced a weak smile. “So I was a mistake? Well, I still love you. I will always love you. You have been the greatest happiness in my life, and I thank you for that. And just so you know, I don’t believe a word you’re saying. You can’t hide love’s light from me – I can see it in your eyes. I can feel its warmth in this room. Jacob, if you send me away, you will never see or hear from me again.”

  “I know. God forgive me for what I’ve done to you.”

  “Forgive yourself, if you can, and leave God out of this,” she hissed.

  Jacob nodded. “I’ll take you into Yorktown. There’s a boarding house there – you cannot travel back tonight.”

  “I’ll do what I bloody well please!” she said haughtily.

  Jacob wanted to hold her. Every minute with her dampened his resolve. His chest felt as if it were going to explode. His sorrow was overwhelming. “Go back to the fort tomorrow,” he said reluctantly. “Isaac can give you so much more than I. He’s a good man.”

  “I’ll thank you to stop telling me what to do or where to go. I am no longer your responsibility. If you had half a brain, you would have shut up five minutes ago, before trying to push me into the arms of another man like I was fast, flitting about from man to man, like a bloody honey bee!” She looked at him once more. Feeling nauseated, she then forced herself to stagger to the door. She opened it, trying to catch her breath.

  “Goodbye, Jacob.” She whispered, and then left without a backwards glance.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jacob held onto the desk for support, panting and unashamed of the tears that dripped from his eyes. He had just watched his life walk away. He was finished. Every problem that faced him now would be confronted without Mercy, his guiding light. The war, Elizabeth’s situation, his plantation, and even his damn slaves, left to wander his house and land unhindered, had faded into secondary concerns. Jesus, Mercy had only left him a minute ago, and he was already bereft.

  His resolve had been strong. He had rehearsed his meeting with Mercy repeatedly. But after finding out that she was at the fort, he had felt the luxury of not having to face her for months to come. Her bravery astounded him. Her resilience and determination was why he loved her so damn much. She was one of a kind, and he had let her walk away.

  He heard an anguished growl leave his mouth. He hated himself, but even more, he hated the thought of Mercy being tied to him without marriage, a home, children, or a future together. He hated the goddamn Southern pride and honour that raced through his veins. How he had wanted to kiss her, hold her, and promise her that there would be a solution to the stinking troubles that haunted them. He straightened himself and cursed. “You’re a son of a bitch, Stone!”

  He swiped the desk with the back of his hand, sending papers to the floor. He punched the wall, making his knuckles bleed. When he came to his s
enses, he slumped into the chair. He had allowed her to ride out alone to God only knew where. He had been too cowardly to go after her because he couldn’t hide his grief from her for another minute.

  He stood up and rushed to the door. He would never live with himself if anything happened to her. She might not pay him any heed, but he had to try to convince her to stay put, at least for tonight.

  As he ran from the room, another thought struck him. She also deserved to know the truth from him, before she heard it from the bastards who would kick her to the ground with cruel words and accusations.

  He reached the school’s courtyard. George and Tybrook were staring up the street. He followed their eyes and saw Mercy, hat on, head down, and leading her horse with pitifully slow steps.

  He ran, ignoring the curious stares from his men, shoving aside soldier after soldier that got in his way. He caught up with her just as she turned the corner that led out of town.

  He grabbed her horse’s reins. She looked up at him, startled. The tears he had seen in the schoolhouse still coursed down her face. “Mercy, stop, please. You can’t. Your horse needs to rest.” He cursed himself again. That was not what he’d wanted to say at all. “If you’re mind is set on leaving, at least hear me out first – please.”

  Mercy sat on a flat rock just outside of town and watched Jacob wrap her horse’s reins around a tree branch. She put her head between her knees in an attempt to curb the nausea and dizziness that had come over her. She had refused food, yet she was starving. She had also refused to stay a night in the boarding house, yet she was terrified of taking off in the darkness with no idea of where she wanted to go. Another sob left her mouth. She wiped the tears, begging them to stop but unable to do anything about them except release them as quietly as she could.

  She had never prayed, not really, she thought just then. She had said “Please God, help me” many times, but she had never actually spoken to God. She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. Dear Lord in heaven, I know you have to listen to lots of people every minute of every day – but I would be grateful if you could just give me a minute of your time. Please tell Jacob to change his mind about us. Make him see that we are meant to be together no matter what – and please, if it be your will, make me stop wanting to free slaves. I am so tired, God. I ask you to give me peace and the strength to face what’s to come.

  She looked up. Jacob walked out from the shadow of a tree towards her. She had no idea why she had allowed him to bring her here. She had not seen or heard anything to suggest he’d reconsidered, yet here she sat, praying and hoping that he had come to his senses.

  “May I sit beside you?” he asked.

  Mercy nodded but kept her face averted from his gaze.

  He stared at her with unflinching eyes. Her face was red and swollen. Her hair was wild, blowing in the wind. She was shivering with cold. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. He gently cupped her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

  “Mercy, look at you. You’re freezing.”

  “No matter. Why did you follow me?” She sniffed and jerked her face out of his grasp. She couldn’t stand to look at him anymore.

  He handed her a handkerchief and sighed loudly. “I couldn’t allow you to leave with my words ringing in your ears. They were cruel. They were what I thought you should hear. God forgive me, but I only wanted to spare you from the truth. You have to believe that.” His words were muddled. He didn’t know where to begin. “Help me, Mercy – help me to finish this properly.”

  Mercy laughed scornfully. “Help you, you say. You don’t need my help. You said what you said quite nicely, all by yourself. You shouldn’t have followed me.”

  “You’re wrong. I should not have let you leave the schoolhouse on your own. I beg you – please stay the night in Yorktown.”

  “No.”

  Jacob shook his head. “Then at least allow me to tell you the truth before you leave? Lord knows you deserve that.”

  “What truth do you speak of? Is it the one where you tell me we are not suited? Or the one where our beliefs are at odds? You don’t know the truth, Jacob. If you did, you would not be here now.”

  Jacob took off his hat and brushed his fingers through his hair. He took her limp hand in his. “Might I hold your hand, just for a moment?”

  She nodded.

  “Darling, we cannot be together, but not for the reasons I gave you,” he said, stroking her fingers. “You were correct in thinking I lied to you. I do love you – of course I do - I love you so very much.”

  “Then why … why do you not want me?”

  “Believe me, not wanting you has nothing to with this,” he told her. “I wanted you the minute I saw you in Liverpool. I still want you – more, if that’s possible – but the truth is, I’m not willing to ruin your life, and it will be ruined if you stay with me. We’ve been defeated, my love, not because of politics or separations, or you running all over the damn state trying to save people, but because circumstances have made a decent life between us an impossible dream. It seems fate has conspired against us.”

  “You talk in riddles. Have you forgotten Newport News? You told me you would always love me and that nothing would divide us. What is this really about – the truth?”

  “It’s about du Pont – and Elizabeth.”

  Mercy moaned. “Oh no. Has Elizabeth been hurt?”

  “No, Elizabeth is alive and well, physically anyway. Madame du Pont is dead.” Jacob stopped there. He had to take this slowly, one shocking piece of news at a time.

  “Madame du Pont is dead?”

  Jacob nodded and tightened his grip on her hand. “She is.”

  Mercy’s breathing quickened. She searched his face. He was telling the truth. She had heard his words correctly. Madame du Pont was dead. She would never threaten or harm her again.

  “Mercy, please say something,” Jacob said.

  Her small face, blotchy from crying, had paled. Jacob put his arm around her shoulder. She was shivering again. “Speak to me, darling,” he urged her.

  “She’s dead. She’s gone - May God forgive me, but this is the only cheery news I have heard all day. I feel relieved. I’m free of her. How did she die?”

  “Elizabeth stabbed her … My wife killed her.”

  Mercy’s sharp intake of breath was followed by a soft groan of pity, but it also held resentment. “I thought it would be me. It was my job to finish Madame du Pont and live with the knowledge of it. Now I’ll never get to know what it feels like to have ended her life. I wanted to kill her. I should have stuck the knife in her – me! Not Elizabeth.”

  “You can’t think like that. You’ve killed, but you’re not a cold blooded murderer – and neither is Elizabeth,” he said, sharply. “Mercy, listen to me. I was at the house in Richmond. I saw du Pont’s dead body, and I saw Elizabeth, mad with the shock of it all. I spoke to her. She didn’t know me. She doesn’t remember du Pont’s death.”

  “She doesn’t remember killing?”

  Jacob shook his head. “Not a thing about it.”

  “Oh, the poor woman. She must have been terrified. She doesn’t deserve this; no one does.”

  “There’s more. She’s been arrested for murder. She’s in jail – and they will hang her if the judge thinks for a second that she is aware of her crime.”

  Mercy covered her face with her hands. For the moment, her feelings for Jacob would have to take second place to this terrible news. She was beginning to understand why he felt the need to banish her, and more importantly, what this would mean as far as his divorce was concerned. She did not agree with his decision, but she was beginning to accept his reasoning.

  “I can’t seem to put my thoughts into words. I know du Pont is dead. I know you must be at your wit’s end – but I can’t understand why the marshal in Richmond wants to hang Elizabeth. He should pin a medal on her.”

  “No one wants to hang a woman, Mercy – no one – but the
marshal didn’t know du Pont. As far as he’s concerned, two women had a fight and one killed the other. That’s murder, no matter how you look at it. Elizabeth was used in du Pont’s sick, twisted war against me.”

  “It seems to me that du Pont got her victory, even in death,” Mercy spat.

  “You might be right. The way I see it, either Elizabeth gets her wits back and hangs or she remains in a Richmond jail for God knows how long.”

  Mercy uttered a defeated sigh. It was over. She would complicate Jacob’s life even more if she begged him not to end their love affair – that’s what it was, she admitted to herself. He was a married man, and now he would remain married, all because of a cruel twist of fate.

  “It seems we are not destined to be together after all,” she sobbed. “You have to go to her. You have to be with your wife.”

  There was little comfort in knowing that Jacob loved her, yet she felt a small measure of consolation, for where love still existed, so did hope. The burning desire for another was not easily extinguished. She knew this by her own experience. She was defeated today, but it didn’t mean that all would be lost tomorrow. Fate might yield another twist and turn in her path, leading her home to Jacob.

  “When will you leave Yorktown?” she asked.

  “I’m leaving for Richmond in the morning. I’ve been transferred to central command until this is sorted out, one way or another. Du Pont’s murder has been reported in all the newspapers. The Confederate government wants this story to go away. I believe there will be a speedy outcome.”

  “Do the doctors think Elizabeth will recover?”

  “I believe they do. I received a telegram yesterday from her father. He informed me that Elizabeth is already showing signs of improvement. The marshal gave the order to have her transferred to the jailhouse, which means he thinks her fit to stand trial. Darling, believe me: I have looked at this from every angle. I have considered every possible outcome, and not one ends well for us. There is no running away from this. We could hide together on the other side of the world. We could live together as man and wife but that would be a lie. Elizabeth would haunt us both until any happiness we might hope for is ripped to shreds. Darling Mercy, should I desert her now, knowing that I am partly responsible for her situation?”