“A lovely shape you have,” she said, “not so starved in the middle as some of the young ladies. You’re a girl who likes her food.”
Her face burned. It’s not like she was fat or anything, but she would agree she wasn’t the skinniest twig in the bundle.
“Don’t be ashamed; it’s good to be healthy. But you need a new corset. One that works better with your shape.” The dressmaker rooted around on the shelves behind her and pulled one out and handed it to Beck.
It didn’t look any different than the first one as far as she could tell, but when Beck tied it up as tightly as she could, Emily could still breathe. She didn’t feel quite as stifled.
Mrs. Barnes pulled out another hoop. “That one is last year’s model, the newer ones are easier to maneuver,” she explained as Beck fastened Emily into it. The brown dress was slipped back over her head, and they moved from behind the screen.
Mrs. Barnes put fashion pictures in front of Emily. “You can have this kind of neckline, or this is another popular style. Wide sleeves are essential.”
Words swirled around her. She didn’t understand these fashions. She didn’t know what she liked or would look good in. Her mind drifted back to bridal shopping with Dayna. They’d gone to dozens of shops. Dayna must have tried on hundreds of gowns, and in each place they were petted and made much of and Dayna looked like a queen. Her own wedding gown was apparently going to be a ball gown in rose silk with hoop skirts and lots of lace. Not exactly the kind of dress she pictured herself wearing to her wedding. But then again, this was hardly going to be the kind of wedding, or marriage, that she had ever imagined.
Decisions had to be made regarding necklines, sleeves, decorations on the skirt, type of material, color, for each of the dresses. She was overwhelmed, but Mrs. Barnes, while asking for input always answered her own questions and soon was satisfied with the four dresses she planned to make.
Finally, Mrs. Barnes assured them that the first of the dresses would be ready in less than a week. She handed Beck the package containing the discarded hoop and corset, and they went out to the carriage to wait for Sam and George to come back.
“I wish I could have fancy dresses sometimes,” Beck said with a touch of wistfulness as she stowed the bundle in the wagon. “I suppose all those frills and fripperies wouldn’t be too practical as I worked.”
“I don’t imagine they’re practical for anyone, but they do make a person not stand out quite so much.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Beck said with an emphasis that caught her attention.
She cocked her head and gave the other woman a questioning look.
“If it should come that you do decide to help me get away, a nice, fashionable dress could certainly make things easier,” Beck said, not quite meeting her eyes.
Emily smiled. It certainly would.
A shadow fell over them and she looked up, expecting to see Sam and George. Instead it was the gorgeous, petite blonde Sam had been engaged to until this morning. Emily glanced around for some means of escape. Encountering Dinah was way down low on her list of things she wanted to do today. There was nothing short of running down the street, and in these clothes, she knew she wouldn’t get far.
“Man-stealing hussy,” Dinah hissed at her.
She wanted to defend herself, but from Dinah’s point of view she could see how it might look that way. Okay, frankly from anyone’s point of view it might look that way.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” The explanation sounded weak even as the words left her mouth.
“Who are you really? Why are you here with nothing? Why have you no people? What do you want from Sam? Bonne Terra?” Dinah fired the questions at her.
“No. I want nothing. I just… I love him.” It was insufficient, but what more was there to say, really?
“Ha! Why? He’s a fickle dreamer who will never amount to much.”
Her back stiffened. “Then why did you want to marry him?”
“Because Bonne Terra is destined to be mine. That’s why. And you will not stand in the way.”
If all this girl wanted was the plantation, she didn’t deserve Sam. “I’m not sure what you can do about it. Sam knows his own mind.”
“He only thinks he does. And what’s more, his father has some say in what happens to the plantation. I’ll get my way. You can count on it.”
“Good luck to you.” Emily’s voice was cold and hard. She’d never let that bitch win.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sam
Sam stood quietly, hands behind his back, while his father paced back and forth across the study, haranguing him. He had been quite surprised when his father showed up at dinnertime. He’d only sent the letter yesterday explaining that he had ended his agreement with Dinah and would be marrying Miss Parks. His father had wasted no time.
“You don’t know anything about her,” his father repeated for perhaps the twelfth time. “You don’t know her parents or her background or even where she lives.”
The things he did know, he did not feel comfortable telling his father.
“I had a telegram from Dinah saying you were being taken in by a charlatan, that Miss Parks was not what she said and is simply after the estate.”
“It’s not true.” Heat rushed to his cheeks. How dare Dinah interfere in that way? “Emily is not after Bonne Terra. That is not what interests her. Dinah is simply angry at my breaking our engagement.”
“As well she might be.” His father waggled a finger at him accusingly.
Sam shrugged. True, Dinah did have reason to be unhappy but he wasn’t the man for her and they both knew it.
“You had a perfectly good arrangement with the Johnsons,” his father continued. “Your marriage would double the size of the land you owned. It was advantageous on all sides. What does a union with this woman bring you?”
“Love.” What more was there to say than that, really?
His father stopped pacing and sighed. “Sam, lust and love are not the same thing.”
“I said nothing about lust.” He struggled to keep his voice calm. “I do not love Dinah. I never have.”
“And you love this Miss Parks?”
“I do.”
His father wiped his hand over his face.
“How could you possibly? You don’t know her.”
“I know her well enough.”
“Did you get her pregnant?”
“No!” He wondered if he could get away with pouring himself a glass of whiskey about now; he could use it.
“Because if you did, you don’t have to feel obligated to marry her, a nice financial settlement will take care of everything, and you can go ahead and marry Dinah.”
“You’re not listening to me, Father.” He took a step forward and rested his hands on the back of the red leather wing chair. “First of all, I am not a child who can be directed. I am a grown man, about to go off to war, and I know my feelings. I do not love Dinah, have never loved Dinah. You knew that. Even when I agreed to marry her, everyone knew that I didn’t love her.”
“Love will come.” His father stopped pacing and faced him, arms crossed.
“Love is already there with Emily,” Sam shouted. He took a deep breath to calm down. “I love her, Father. I haven’t felt this way since Anna. I know it’s real.” Why did no one believe him when he said he loved Emily? True he hadn’t known her long, but how long did it take to fall in love?
Now it was his father’s turn to sigh. Invoking Anna’s name may have been the winning move here. No one had ever been in any doubt how he felt about Anna.
“But you don’t know her.” He waved a hand helplessly in the air.
“I know enough.” He knew she was kind and smart and beautiful. He knew that when he was with her time seemed to have no meaning.
“Where is she from?” His father leaned against his desk, arms crossed.
“I don’t know.” He assumed she was local, but that would only raise more questions from hi
s father that he really couldn’t answer right now.
“Who are her parents?”
“I don’t know.” He could answer that they were Mr. and Mrs. Parks, but that wasn’t what his father wanted to know. He wanted to know what her father did. He wanted to know if they had money. He wanted to know if they would be accepted into their social circles. Sam didn’t think it was worth pointing out that it didn’t matter, because they would never come here, never try to infiltrate their society in any way.
“Are they rebels or union?”
Considering what she had told him, he felt fairly confident answering this question. “Union. Definitely Union.”
“That’s something anyway. How do you know insanity doesn’t run in her family?”
“I don’t.” He wasn’t at all certain it didn’t run in his. He seemed to remember a great uncle who could best be described as odd.
“What if she is after your money?” His father caught his eye and held it as if he’d played the winning card.
“She’s not.” Sam didn’t break eye contact. “But if she is, she can have it.”
His father began pacing again. “You are not being reasonable!”
“I’m being perfectly reasonable. I am going to marry Emily Parks as soon as possible.”
“That’s another thing. Why the rush?” His father turned to face him once more.
“Because in three weeks I report for duty with Yuengling’s outfit. I need to be married before then.”
“Why? So that the plantation can go to her if you don’t come back? Go to someone we don’t know? Go to someone who might destroy all our work?” His father ran his hands through his hair and shook his head.
Sam understood his father’s frustration, but he wished he could get him to see that there was nothing to worry about. At least not on that score.
“Alter your will father. Don’t leave the plantation to me until you are sure I will survive and come back. I don’t care and she doesn’t care, but I do have a favor to ask you.”
His father arched one graying eyebrow at that.
“As you’ve pointed out, she has no one near to protect her. By marrying her I am offering her not only my protection but that of the family. You will take care of her, won’t you, until I come back?”
His father went to the sideboard, poured a glass of whiskey, handed it to Sam, and then poured one for himself.
“Why are you marrying her, son?” He sounded tired, and drank half his glass before speaking again. “Is it because she needs protection? Because she is a good tumble? Is she blackmailing you? What’s going on? The truth.”
Sam gulped back two-thirds of the glass at once, which maybe wasn’t the best idea, but it kept him from screaming at his father over the ridiculous notion that he would upend his whole life because some girl was good in bed.
“I have not bedded her.” He struggled to keep his voice even and calm. “She is not blackmailing me. She does need my protection, it is true, but I could offer that without benefit of marriage. I love her. And I am going to marry her. In less than three weeks.”
“But you’ll have no time together before you go off to war. She will be married to a cipher, a person she doesn’t even know, and so will you, what good will that do either of you?”
“She will have the protection of my name and family.” This was the most important point. It was true they would not have much time as husband and wife, but if she were still here, she needed to be protected. It couldn’t be stressed enough.
“She would have that anyway, Sam.” His father sounded more angry than exasperated at this point. “We are not monsters. If this person is important to you, you don’t have to marry her to ensure that we will see to her safety when you can’t be here.”
“I’m going to marry her.” This time it was his turn to catch his father’s eye and not look away. This was not up for discussion, and he hoped his father would realize that.
His father sighed, drained his glass, and poured himself another.
“And you’ve enlisted.” It wasn’t a question, but Sam answered him anyway.
“George and I went down and signed up yesterday.”
His father sipped his whiskey thoughtfully for a second. Sam thought he looked old, older than he ever remembered him looking before, his shoulders seemed stooped, his hair thinner and grayer, his face less animated.
“I’m proud of you, son.” He stared at Sam as if memorizing him.
Proud. Now Sam sighed. Would he be proud of a son who signed up to near certain death? If it was in protection of country and family, then yes, and besides he’d never have a son. He wasn’t going to survive this war. He didn’t tell his father that, though, no point in making him even more of an old man overnight.
His father took a deep breath. “Now, tell me what happened with Wilkins? I wish you had consulted me before firing the man.”
“There was no time to consult you.” He gripped his mostly empty glass. Consult? Wasn’t he supposed to be in charge? Wasn’t that what his father was always telling him. He’d taken charge. And he’d been right to. There was no second guessing here. “He stole from us, and he attacked Miss Parks. I needed to do something immediately.”
“Attacked? Raped?” His father put down his whiskey glass and looked concerned.
“According to her, no, he did not violate her.” Though, what was tying her up like that other than a violation of her person. His shoulders tensed, and he took a deep breath to keep from exploding. “But he threatened to. He confronted her when she was alone and brought her to his cabin where he gagged her, tied her hand and foot, and told her he could do anything he wanted to her.” He strode to the window and looked out on the last vestiges of daylight across the fields. How frightened Emily must have been. But what had she said to him, that her biggest fear was that he, Sam, would be hurt if she didn’t confide in him. The man was threatening her, and her worry was for Sam. He had to marry this girl. There could be no one else for him. “To prove his point, he grabbed one of the slave children and told Emily that any resistance on her part, or any going for help, would result in severe beatings for the child. Then he manhandled her a bit, to show her who was boss and let her go. She was very shaken.”
“Shaken!” His father sounded horrified at the blunt account of what had happened. “My lord, if that’s true, the man deserves to be hanged.”
“It’s true.” He turned from the window to face his father. “The child confirmed it.”
“Then you were right to fire him. Though, frankly, if someone had done that to the woman I loved, they’d be looking for the body for years to come.”
“That had occurred to me.” He didn’t want his father to think he was a coward. “It seemed better to let the law handle it.”
“And is the law handling it?”
“They will if they can find him.”
His father took another sip of his whiskey. “I’m beginning to understand your urgent concern for Miss Parks’ safety.” His father joined him by the window “But you don’t have to marry her, son. We can look after her without you tying yourself to her forever.”
He turned so that they were both looking out into the gathering darkness. “I know I don’t have to, Father. I want to. I need to in the sense that I want her more than I ever imagined possible. If all I have left of real life is the next few weeks, why can’t that include marrying the woman I love?”
“You think you won’t survive the war?” his father asked.
“I’m being realistic. Some…many won’t. Why do I think I’d be one of the lucky ones?”
His father’s voice was tense when he spoke next. “When talking to your mother, you are to assume you will be one of the lucky ones. Understand?”
Sam nodded. “Understood.”
They stood side by side, their matching reflections shining back at them, his father a smaller, older version of himself. When had his father become smaller than him? When had that happened? How many years of
straining to be even as tall as his father, and now he had outpaced him and he’d never noticed until now.
“You’re sure about Miss Parks?”
“I couldn’t be any more sure.”
Now it was his father’s turn to nod. “Then I suppose we have a wedding to plan. Your mother and Elizabeth will be here tomorrow to take charge. Don’t expect Elizabeth to be happy that you threw over her best friend,” he warned.
“Dinah can still be her best friend, and now Emily will be her sister. I’m sure she’ll love her as much as I do, once given the chance to get to know her.”
“We shall see,” was his father’s ominous reply. He put his glass down and gave Sam a hearty clap on the shoulder. “Well, it’s time for me to get to know my future daughter-in-law, don’t you think.”
He smiled with relief. “Indeed, it is.”
He hoped Emily was all right. He had left her to finish dinner alone when his father had burst in upon them. The last time he had left her alone, she had fallen into Wilkins’ clutches. He was fairly confident that wouldn’t happen this time, but he hoped she had found a safe way to keep herself occupied.
They found her in the parlor, sitting in the rocking chair, a novel in her lap, but he didn’t think she was really reading it, for she closed it and put it aside as soon as they came in. She stood to greet them, though a proper woman wouldn’t stand when a man entered the room. But yet, as she hurried to his father and took his hands in hers, he could see his father was entranced by the greeting.
“Mr. Marshall, what a pleasure to see you again.” Her tone was honey sweet and not at all cloying. The perfect way to greet his father. “I realize that Sam’s announcement must have come as a shock to you, but I want you to know that I love Sam for himself, not anything he might have. Penniless or rich wouldn’t matter to me. It is Sam I love, not Bonne Terra. Though it is a beautiful plantation,” she added quickly, as if afraid she had offended him.
“What about Wilkins?” his father asked, being too much the plantation owner, and not enough the prospective father-in-law. Sam reddened with anger that he would even bring that name up. “Would you love Sam if he could not offer you protection from him?”
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