Among the Fair Magnolias Page 3

  Charles let out a long breath. “I’ll grant you there is a decent living to be made in medicine if a man takes the right kind of cases. But even the most successful physician can never hope to earn the kind of money that the rice trade affords. If we were to marry and join Mulberry Hall with my place, we’d own more land than anyone in Plantersville besides the Allstons. And maybe the Wards.”

  She glared at him. “Is that what I represent to you, Charles? An opportunity to get richer than you already are?”

  “Not entirely.”

  “Not entirely?” She shook her head. “You don’t give one whit about marriage. You want only an economic merger, completely devoid of any tender feelings.”

  “That isn’t true. I’m very fond of you. You’re everything a man could want in a wife—beautiful, well-read, skilled in the ins and outs of running a big house.” He paused, his smile returning. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “What about affection and companionship? What about being able to share your real, true heart with someone?”

  “There will be time for all that after we’re wed.”

  “I doubt it. And anyway, I am not interested in finding out. I know what I want.”

  “And you’re willing to defy your father to get it?”

  “I don’t want to defy him. I hope I won’t have to. I want him to see that what is best for me is to marry someone of my choosing. Not his.”

  They reached her cottage and found a creel full of perch on the porch next to Papa’s favorite hat and two fishing poles. In the yard, Amos the stable hand was tending to the horses. Papa had returned from a fishing trip, probably with Governor Gist.

  Abby paused, one hand on the banister. “If you’ll excuse me, I must speak to my mother.”

  Charles bowed from the waist. “Of course. Mother and I must forgo your wonderful luncheon so she can rest. But I’ll see you at supper this evening.”

  Abby hurried up the steps. Not if I see you first.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MOLLY AND THE KITCHEN GIRLS HAD LABORED ALL MORNING to prepare a lavish buffet, the remains of which now littered a long table on the piazza overlooking the sea. Papa and the menfolk retreated to the sandy yard to enjoy their cheroots while the ladies claimed rocking chairs on the shaded piazza or sat on the steps leading to the sand.

  Abby was wedged between Penny and Theodosia on the top step as they polished off the remains of Molly’s strawberry pie. The younger girls were playing tag with the surf, their laughter riding the late spring breeze.

  Penny nodded toward one of them. “I’m glad Mr. Fraser brought Charlotte,” she said, her blue eyes full of sympathy. “Poor girl.”

  Abby ate the last crumb of her pie. “So am I. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose my mother.”

  “Charlotte seems happy today, though,” Theo said, watching as the girl stopped to examine a shell. “It looks as if she and Bessie Allston are having a grand time.”

  “Bessie Allston can cheer up anybody,” Penny said. “I remember her at school. Everyone at Madame Togno’s loved her from the time she was very young.” Penny drank from her perspiring glass and set it down. “Anyway, Bessie is turning fifteen at the end of the month, and this will be her first grown-up dance. Charlotte’s too.”

  Theo twisted around and set her plate on the porch. “Perhaps we ought to call Bessie over here to cheer you up, Abby. You’ve been moping all morning.”

  “Because Dr. Bennett has yet to make an appearance,” Penny said. “I do admit I am puzzled as to why he got off the ferry and then vanished.”

  “He’s avoiding me,” Abby said. “I don’t suppose he has forgiven me yet for our quarrel last winter.”

  Theo frowned. “He doesn’t seem like one to nurse a grievance. There must be some other reason he and his parents didn’t come to dinner today.”

  “You don’t suppose they have taken ill?” Penny looked stricken. “That would be too awful if Dr. Bennett were sick and missed the dance.”

  “And missed seeing Abby in that dream of a dress.” Theo rose and brushed at the back of her skirt. “Well, I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

  Abby shot to her feet. “What are you going to do? Please, Theo, don’t say anything.”

  “You want to know, don’t you?” Theo frowned. “Don’t worry. I’ll be discreet.”

  With a backward glance, Theo ran lightly down the steps and onto the sand. Papa and the governor and several other men acknowledged her with polite bows as she walked past before resuming their political talk, their animated voices carrying on the breeze. Theo stopped to speak to Charlotte and Bessie and knelt with them in the sand to examine a mass of seaweed just washed ashore.

  Abby moved aside so the servants could begin clearing the table and let out an exasperated breath. “Why is Theo beachcombing when she’s supposed to be talking to those girls?”

  “If I know Theodosia Avery, she has a plan up her sleeve.” Penny grinned and patted Abby’s hand. “Be patient. If anyone can find out about the Bennetts, it’s Theo.”

  Abby saw Theo whisper something to Bessie Allston, who rose from her inspection of the seaweed and ran over to where her father stood talking to Governor Gist. Moments later Bessie rejoined Charlotte and Theo, then gestured toward the causeway. Theo gave Bessie a quick hug and hurried to rejoin Abby and Penny on the piazza.

  “Mystery solved,” she said with a triumphant smile. “The good doctor passed the Allstons’ cottage this morning, at which time he indicated he was off to Georgetown to pick up a parcel he’s expecting.”

  “You see?” Penny gave Abby’s arm a playful punch. “Didn’t I tell you there was a logical explanation for his—”

  “Abigail.” Papa appeared on the piazza. “Where’s your mother?”

  Abby looked around. “She was here a few minutes ago. Perhaps she has already gone up to her room for her nap.”

  “Governor Gist wants a look at our salt works. If your mother inquires as to my whereabouts—”

  “I’ll tell her, Papa. When will you be back?”

  He indicated clouds building on the horizon. “We won’t stay long. Looks like we might get a storm before the afternoon is through.”

  “All right.”

  Papa clasped both her hands. “When I get back I want to have a talk with you.”

  Looking past his shoulder she saw Charles Kittridge watching them. Alarm bells sounded in her head. “What about?”

  “A private matter. I’m sure your friends will excuse us for a while.”

  “Of course, Mr. Clayton.” Penny bobbed her head and looped her arm through Theo’s. “Any time we get in your way, why, all you have to do is say so.”

  Papa smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t say you’re in the way, Miss Ravensdale. It’s simply a matter of—”

  He broke off as Governor Gist came up the steps. “I hate to rush you, sir, but it does look as if we’re in for a rain, and I am quite keen to take a look at that salt operation of yours.”

  “Of course.” Papa bowed to all three girls and left with his guest.

  “So.” Theo brushed her palms together as if dusting them off. “Mission accomplished. Dr. Wade Bennett ought to be on his way back here even as we speak.”

  “Well, I’m glad to know he intends to return, but I do hope Bessie Allston won’t tell him we were asking after him.”

  “Bessie is sworn to secrecy. I promised to lend her my diamond dress pin for the dance if she promised not to tell anyone we asked about Prince Charming.” Theo suppressed a yawn. “Now, if you will excuse me, I think I need a nap. Sleuthing is exhausting. And I’m full as a tick.”

  “Me too,” Penny said. “I can’t remember the last time I ate so much food.”

  The two started inside. At the open doorway, Penny turned. “Sure you don’t want a nap, Abby?”

  “I’m sure.”

  The servants were just clearing away the rest of the dishes. Molly folded the white linen tablecloths and took the
m inside. Mrs. Ravensdale had settled herself into a rocking chair and was absorbed in her book. The rest of the ladies had gone for a walk on the beach or were napping. Penny frowned. “What will you do all afternoon, all by yourself?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “Suit yourself.” Penny waggled her fingers and followed Theo inside.

  Abby waited a few minutes until her guests were settled. Then she took her hat from its peg in the foyer and headed for the causeway. The ferry was due in half an hour. One look at Wade Bennett’s face would tell her whether the brief, stilted letters of apology they’d exchanged had truly reconciled their hearts. Only then would she be able to relax and enjoy the rest of the weekend festivities.

  She arrived at the landing just as the ferrymen secured the ropes and began letting the passengers disembark. Abby stood aside to let a horse and rig exit the ferry, followed by a parade of couples carrying picnic baskets, businessmen in their serious suits, children carrying kites and satchels. At last she saw Wade talking with one of the ferrymen and her heart lurched. She never would have believed he could get any more appealing. But as she watched him, his head inclined toward the shorter man, she was struck anew not only by his good looks but by his quiet confidence and the kindness he showed to everyone. She blinked against the sting of tears, realizing all over again just how wrong she had been and how deeply she had missed him.

  He handed the ferryman a coin, picked up his satchel, and strode off the ferry. Then, spotting Abby, he stopped short. “Miss Clayton. I didn’t expect a welcoming committee.”

  The look in his eyes—a mixture of pleasure and amused surprise—heated her cheeks and made her heart stutter. From their first introduction at a St. Cecilia Society ball six years before, Wade Bennett had always had that effect on her.

  She dropped a small curtsy, her eyes never leaving his face. “I saw you when you stopped at my cottage this morning, but you drove away before I had a chance to greet you.”

  He guided her out of the way of a passing rig. “I wanted to see you, too, but I met your houseguests on the ferry and knew there would be no time to talk.”

  She wanted simply to stand there, drinking in the sight of him while they caught up on the news of these last lonely months and poured out their hearts to each other. But he offered her his arm and set off, matching his stride to hers as they started down the sandy, sun-dappled road. “I trust that Miss Ravensdale and Miss Avery are well.”

  “Very well.” She glanced up at him. “You’re looking quite hale and hearty yourself.”

  He smiled. “And you are more beautiful than I remembered.”

  “I’m pleased you think so.” She paused, relieved that he didn’t seem to be out of sorts with her at all. But perhaps it was too early to judge. “I heard you went to Georgetown this morning to pick up a parcel.”

  “There are no secrets on Pawleys Island.”

  “Not many.”

  “I went to retrieve a manuscript that came from Washington. I didn’t expect it until next week, but Mr. Kaminski sent word that the package arrived on the Nina, and I was eager to get it.”

  “What kind of manuscript? Don’t tell me you’ve written a novel.”

  “Hardly. I think I mentioned my colleague, Dr. Archibald, in my last letter to you.”

  “The one who’s helping you and Dr. Percy with your work on the extract replication?”

  “Yes. He’s written an article about our work that we hope will be published in the Medical Society journal. I’m to read it and add my own notes before he sends it off to be reviewed. If it’s chosen for publication, it could bring more attention to our work and perhaps the funding we need to continue our experiments.”

  “I see. Your work there isn’t finished then.”

  “When it comes to finding better treatments and better medicines for those who are ill, the work is never done.”

  Abby shoved her fists into her skirt pockets. Clearly, a life with Wade Bennett meant that she would always share him with everyone else. Would it be enough to come second, behind his work and his commitment to others? Even though she was reconciled to it, she couldn’t help feeling that they were back where they started. Back to that cold February morning during Race Week when everything had come undone.

  They passed Pelican Cottage. Charlotte Fraser paused in her walk on the dunes to wave and call out a greeting.

  “Lovely girl,” Wade said, tipping his hat. “My mother was quite distressed when the poor girl’s mother died. I think Mother had half a mind to—” He stopped walking and peered into Abby’s face. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Is this about my work?”

  “I know how important it is to you. And I do understand the implications of it. If a way can be found to standardize the strength of those plant extracts—goldenseal, for instance—who knows how many illnesses might be prevented.”

  “But?”

  “I was hoping your colleagues might carry the work forward and allow you to return to your practice in Charleston. Your patients must miss you so.”

  And I miss you. More than anything.

  “I have no plans to neglect my patients. Dr. Howard has performed admirably in my absence, but I’ll be taking over again in a couple of weeks. There’s nothing more to be done in the laboratory until those test crops we planted are harvested and processed. And as much as I wish it were otherwise, I’ll be needed when the yellow fever arrives this summer.”

  “Yes. Mother and I were just discussing it last week. It’s too bad there is no cure for such a deadly plague.”

  “I’m glad you understand.” He squeezed her arm. “One day we’ll figure it out, just as Dr. Snow discovered the cause of cholera, and the fever will be a thing of the past.”

  They reached her cottage. Papa’s rig sat beneath the piazza, the horse tethered in the shade at the edge of the maritime forest that separated the tidal marshes and the beach. Through the open window of the study she heard her father’s voice and that of the governor, and she let out a shaky breath. She had an idea what Papa wanted to talk to her about, and she wanted to delay the conversation as long as possible. Besides, she wasn’t through with her conversation with Wade.

  “I left Mama and our guests napping. I’m sure there’s tea, if you’d like some.”

  “I would.” They mounted the steps just as the first fat raindrops plopped onto the sandy yard. “In any case, I must wait out the rain.”

  Rather than summon Molly and risk attracting Papa’s attention, Abby gathered the tea things herself. She put some shortbread on a plate and motioned Wade into the small room next to the parlor overlooking the sea. For a time it had been her mother’s sewing room, but now it was furnished with two upholstered chairs, a small table, and a shelf of tattered books. Filmy curtains stirred in the sea breeze that brought a faint tang of salt and rain.

  Abby closed the window, poured tea, and picked up the sugar bowl. “Two lumps, if I remember correctly.”

  He smiled. “Please.”

  She added the sugar and passed him the milk pitcher.

  “I want to say—” she began at the same instant that he said, “Abigail. I wish to apologize for—”

  They set down their cups and laughed, and Abby felt a surge of relief. Perhaps everything would be all right after all.

  “I should have been more respectful of your feelings,” Wade began. “I was so taken with the prospect of working with Dr. Percy that I didn’t stop to consider the importance of social events to a lady. Especially the importance of Race Week.”

  Abby stirred her tea. “I won’t deny that I was deeply disappointed to miss the picnic and the balls. I had so looked forward to them all year. But since we’ve been apart, I’ve realized it was selfish of me to set such store by them when you had the chance to do something truly important.” She watched rain trickling down the wavy glass like streams of quicksilver. “Perhaps in a way I envied you.”

  “Oh?”


  “Well, think about it. What can a woman of my station do with her life? Apart from marriage and motherhood, I mean. It’s all we’re trained for. A proper marriage is the pinnacle of achievement for girls like me. We don’t get to choose anything in life except a husband and a church.”

  “I suppose you’re right. But things are changing. For instance, the Blackwell sisters have paved the way for women who wish to get medical training.” He sipped his tea.

  “Papa would never hear of that. But honestly, I’m not medical-school material.” She eyed him over the rim of her cup. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I faint dead away at the sight of blood.”

  He smiled. “That would be a significant barrier to a medical career.”

  “But I do want to contribute something. In my own way.”

  “You already have. Your assistance in collecting the plant specimens was invaluable to me.”

  “My cousin Charles Kittridge doesn’t think so.”

  “Do you care what he thinks?” Wade took a bite of shortbread.

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “Good. Because on the way back from Washington, I was thinking about all the help I’ll need once we get the new specimens harvested. We’ve planted goldenseal, feverfew, and a new plant, a purple coneflower, in several locations that will expose them to various amounts of water and sunlight and various kinds of soil. All of that information will have to be collected and cataloged. And once the chemical components of the plants are extracted, we’ll need to record any variations in the makeup of the compounds and their strengths.”

  Abby set down her cup again, struck by the passion in his voice and by her own growing desire to become a much more vital part of his work. Picnics and horse races and dances, though they were indeed great fun, paled in comparison to curing fevers and saving lives.

  “Abigail?” Wade frowned. “Are you all right? I haven’t offended you again?”

  “Far from it.” She was swept along on a powerful wave of emotion that made her want to weep. “While you were away, something happened inside me. I can’t explain it exactly, but you will be pleased to know that you will encounter no further resistance from me in your pursuit of medical discoveries.”