Among the Fair Magnolias Page 5

  “I’m glad you approve.” She squeezed his hand. “I should go find Mother. She so loves this party, but it is tiring for her.”

  “Can you spare a few moments for me first? I hardly saw you at all this afternoon. I had plans to speak to you earlier, but you were kept so busy I abandoned them.”

  She smiled up at him, her heart thudding. “What sort of plans?”

  “Come into the parlor.”

  She followed him into the spacious room overlooking the sea. Below them, on the temporary wooden dance floor Papa had erected, guests were already pairing off for the first dance, the men regal in their dark suits and silk cravats, the women in their silk and satin gowns as bright as a flock of exotic birds. Molly and Sophronia wove their way among the guests offering cups of punch in crystal glasses that caught and reflected the waning sunlight.

  Wade stood behind Abby at the window and slipped both hands around her waist. “I wanted to ask you something. I suppose I ought to say this quickly before we’re interrupted again.”

  He turned her around so she was facing him. “After our parting last February, I had plenty of time to think about the future, about what I want in a wife. And even before you told me that you wanted to work alongside me, somehow I knew you were the one for me.”

  She nodded, afraid to speak and break the spell. But she felt exactly the same. True hearts didn’t simply meet by chance somewhere; they were meant for each other—waiting for each other all along. How grateful she was that they had both discovered this before it was too late.

  Wade made a small sound in his throat. “So what I am asking is whether you will allow me to speak to your father about us. I can’t offer you a great fortune or even an aristocratic name. All I have to offer is my abiding affection and my promise to treasure you and to protect you for the rest of my life.” He pulled her close, his eyes seeking hers. “You must think carefully about whether this is enough.”

  “I have thought of nothing else since you went away. You are more than enough for me, Wade Bennett. You always will be.”

  He glanced around, drew her away from the window, and kissed her with such fervor she nearly lost her breath.

  They finally drew apart, and he smiled into her eyes. “Shall we go find your father?”

  “Yes. In a little while. Right now I’m so happy I want to keep this secret just for the two of us.” She took his hand and drew him out of the parlor, leading him through the doors and down the steps to the dance floor. Wade took her into his arms, and for the next hour they danced every dance, keeping to the shadows, murmuring together.

  When the sun went down, turning the sea and sky to shades of apricot and gold, the musicians took a break. Hector lit torches and placed them in buckets of sand. Molly and Sophronia brought out platters of sandwiches and sweets and another round of punch.

  “Will you excuse me?” Abby asked Wade. “I ought to check on Mother.”

  “Of course.” He placed a swift kiss on her cheek. “Don’t be long.”

  Abby found her mother seated in her rocking chair on the piazza, deep in conversation with Mrs. Ravensdale.

  “Oh, there you are, darling.” Mama smiled up at Abby. “I was right about your gown. It becomes you.”

  Mrs. Ravensdale snapped open her fan and nodded to Abby. “It is lovely, my dear. But something more than that blue silk gown has put the roses in your cheeks.”

  Abby smiled, wishing she had found her mother alone. She was bursting to share her good news, but now was not the time. Not before Wade had spoken to Papa. And anyway, Mama looked pale tonight, and terribly tired. “Are you all right, Mama?”

  “I’m afraid I had a restless night. I hardly slept a wink. Have you seen Charles Kittridge this evening?”

  “No. But I haven’t looked very hard to find him.” The memory of their encounter in the boathouse burned like acid in her veins. But she wouldn’t let it spoil the perfect wonder of this night. Because no matter what Papa said, she intended to marry Wade Bennett. Nothing could change that.

  “You ought to speak to him right away, Abigail. And your father too.”

  “I will. Do you need anything before I go? Some more punch? Your shawl? It’s bound to cool off quickly now that the sun has set.”

  “I’m fine, dear. And Mrs. Ravensdale is here to keep me company.”

  “You go along with the young people,” Mrs. Ravensdale said. “Enjoy the dance. I’ll sit with your mother awhile longer.” She patted Mama’s hand. “The two of us have much to discuss this evening.”

  “All right.” Abby bent to kiss her mother’s cheek just as the first strains of a waltz floated on the breeze. The musicians had returned. She hurried to find Wade, but he had disappeared. Penny and Theodosia found her standing in the spot where she had last seen him.

  “Well?” In the flickering torchlight, Penny’s eyes shone. “What happened in the parlor?”

  Abby’s happy laugh bubbled up from deep inside. “Can you keep a secret?”

  Both women nodded. “Do tell,” Theo prompted. “Did Dr. Bennett propose?”

  “Yes, but you can’t say a word to anyone. Not until he has spoken to Papa.”

  “Oh, aren’t you the luckiest thing?” Penny grabbed Abby’s hand. “I’m delighted. And slightly jealous. I only wish that someday I—”

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” Papa’s voice rose above the music and the guests’ animated chatter. “May I have your attention?”

  He motioned to Abby, and she made her way through the crowd, searching for Wade. Perhaps he had spoken to her father already. Finally she spotted Wade standing near one of the torchlights, deep in conversation with the governor and Judge Bennett.

  The guests gathered in the yard where Papa and Charles Kittridge waited. To Charles’s left stood Jane Drayton in an exquisite pale-lilac satin gown, an expectant smile on her face.

  The music stopped, leaving the whisper of the sea as the only sound.

  “Friends,” Papa said. “You honor us with your presence here tonight. A night that is even more special because we have a betrothal to announce.”

  Theo and Penny crowded in next to Abby. “See?” Penny whispered. “I told you so. Charles is going to marry Jane Drayton. And you’ll be free to wed Dr. Bennett.”

  Papa placed his hand on Charles’s shoulder. “Tonight I have the honor of announcing the engagement of my cousin Charles Kittridge. To my beautiful daughter, Abigail.”

  In the deeply shadowed room, cool hands rested on her cheek and forehead. Voices drifted on the breeze coming through the open window. Her whole body felt heavy, her throat raw and dry.

  “What happened?” Abby struggled to open her eyes.

  “You fainted dead away is what. Jus’ lie still, child.” Sophronia dipped a towel into a basin of water and pressed the cooling cloth to Abby’s brow.

  Abby attempted to sit up. Somehow her blue gown and her corset and crinoline had been removed. She was lying in her bed clad in her chemise and pantalettes. The curtains billowed at the window, letting in a narrow strip of bright sunlight that revealed all of Theodosia’s things—her silver hairbrush and mirror, her hatboxes and trunks—were gone. “Sophronia, where is Theo Avery? What time is it?”

  “The Averys took out of here last night. And I ’spect it’s nigh on to ten o’clock.”

  “Ten o’clock. In the morning?”

  “Sun don’t shine in the nighttime.” Sophronia fluffed Abby’s pillows and opened the curtains. “Once Dr. French gave you that nerve potion, you slept like the dead. Best thing for you, considerin’ the circumstances.”

  The circumstances. Now the entire horror of last evening came roaring back. Papa’s stunning announcement, Charles Kittridge’s triumphant smile, and her sick disbelief before everything went black. “Dr. French looked after me? Where was Dr. Bennett?”

  The maid shrugged. “I wasn’t there. It was Mister Clayton hisself that scooped you up and carried you inside. Miss Alicia brought in the doctor. Lucky he was s
till here. Anyway, your papa told me to fetch him when you woke up.”

  Hot tears spilled down Abby’s face. “I wish I’d never woken up.”

  “Now you take that back, Miss Abigail. It’s bad luck to say such things.”

  “Oh, Sophronia, the worst thing that can possibly happen to me has already happened.”

  “You mean ’cause you engaged to Mister Charles? Some girls would give anything to snag such a rich husband.”

  “Well, I don’t care one whit about Charles Kittridge’s money.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sophronia picked up a brush and began drawing it through Abby’s tangled curls. “Folks that got plenty o’ money is always the ones that say it don’t matter.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and the door opened. Papa stuck his head into the room. “I heard voices. Are you awake, Abigail?”

  “Miss Abigail jus’ this minute woke up,” Sophronia said. “I was on my way to fetch you.”

  “Well, I’m here already,” Papa said. “You may leave us now, Sophronia.”

  Sophronia shot Abby an unreadable look and hurried out, the door closing with a click that sounded to Abby like a jail cell slamming shut.

  “I’m not properly dressed, Papa.” Abby drew the thin cotton coverlet up to her shoulders.

  “That didn’t seem to be a deterrent to you the day before yesterday.”

  Even as his harsh words pierced her heart, rage built inside her chest. “You know I despise Charles. It was not at all what it seemed.”

  “Governor Gist was shocked to find you two locked in an embrace, your dress torn, and you half dressed. I am disappointed in you. More than I can say.”

  “Papa, I tried to tell you what happened that night after supper, but you were too angry to listen. It was not an embrace. My boat sank in the creek, and I had to wade out. I was muddy and sopping wet and went to the boathouse to dry off. Charles followed me and took hold of me and wouldn’t let go, even when I told him he was hurting me. Surely the governor heard every word I said.”

  “All I know is that he came to me as one concerned father to another and told me what he had witnessed. He was quite scandalized. Such things have a way of getting out, Abigail, no matter how delicately they are handled. And the repercussions affect more than your girlish heart.”

  “Your political prospects, you mean.”

  “I won’t deny it. I have worked too hard and too long to let my chance slip away over something like this. Your engagement to Charles was a foregone conclusion anyway. I simply had to announce it sooner than I planned. The governor is mollified. I think I’ve contained the damage.”

  “Except the damage to me.” Abby swallowed the tears building in her throat. “Did Dr. Bennett speak to you last night?”

  “He mentioned that he wanted to, but—”

  “He proposed to me, Papa. Last night, in the parlor. He wanted to speak to you that very moment, but I asked him to wait an hour or two. It was such a delicious secret, and nobody knew it but us. But all the time you were planning this ridiculous announcement of my betrothal to Charles. And you didn’t even—” The last of her resolve crumbled, and she dissolved into wracking sobs.

  Papa drew a chair close to the bed and sat down. He poured a tumbler of water from the bedside pitcher and handed it to her. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

  She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I won’t feel better until I have seen Dr. Bennett and straightened out this whole mess. Because I will marry him, Papa. If he will still have me.”

  He waved one hand in dismissal, a gesture that infuriated her even further. “You will marry Charles Kittridge. And furthermore, you will appear promptly at seven this evening with a smile on your face. We’re giving a farewell supper for the governor and his lady. They want a chance to congratulate the happy couple. I expect you to—”

  “Abby?” Mama knocked once and came in. “Oh, I didn’t realize your father was still here.”

  Papa rose. “I’ve said what I came to say. I’ll see you both at supper tonight.” He pointed his finger at Mama. “Don’t coddle her, Alicia. She may not want to admit it, but she knows I’m right, about everything.”

  “How comforting that must be,” Abby said bitterly, “to know that you are never, ever wrong.”

  If he heard her, he didn’t let on. The door closed behind him. Mama set aside her cane and perched on the bed. “Oh, my dear girl. I’ve hardly slept since this whole disturbing business about the boathouse. If only the governor hadn’t happened upon you and Charles—”

  “If even half the things Cousin Ophelia says about the governor are true, he hardly has room to criticize anyone.” Abby threw back the covers. “I must go.”

  She washed her face and hands, then chose a simple ivory frock and began to dress.

  “Where are you going?” Mama’s face was pale and drawn.

  “To find Dr. Bennett, of course. I must explain the—”

  “You’re betrothed now, darling. You can’t go chasing after another man, even if he is an old friend. It isn’t seemly.”

  Abby finished doing up her buttons and reached for her stockings. “I wanted to tell you last night, but not in front of Mrs. Ravensdale.” She sat down and drew on a stocking. “Dr. Bennett and I pledged ourselves to each other yesterday evening. But before he could speak to Papa, Papa up and announced my engagement to Charles. It’s all a hideous mistake that must be rectified at once.”

  Abby finished dressing and peered at her reflection in the mirror. “Mercy. I look awful.”

  “Abigail.” Mama retrieved her cane and pushed to her feet. “Think about what you’re doing. Defying your father. Putting his fondest ambition into jeopardy.”

  “I don’t want to cause Papa any trouble. But he has put my fondest ambition into jeopardy too. Perhaps that makes us even.” Abby pinned up her hair and reached for her powder box. “Besides, if what he says is true and the governor is keeping that ridiculous scene in the boathouse to himself, what possible harm can come to Papa as a result of it?”

  Mama’s dark eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Cousin Ophelia feels no such constraints. She told Mrs. Avery all about it last night. Theodosia was so infuriated with Ophelia that she insisted upon leaving the island right away.”

  Abby sank onto her chair at the dressing table, her back to the mirror. So that’s what had happened while she slept. “I’m sure the Averys are not the only ones who have heard the story. And what they heard undoubtedly paints Charles in the most favorable light.”

  “I suppose any mother wants others to think well of her children.”

  “You’re defending her? Fine. But she is—”

  Mama’s cane clattered to the floor. She burst into tears.

  Abby was filled with remorse. She guided her mother to the chair by the window and poured her a glass of water. “Mama, please don’t cry.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? Everything has gone so terribly wrong. For all of us.”

  “What is so wrong with my wanting to marry a kind man who adores me, and with whom I have things in common?”

  “Because to break the engagement now in favor of Dr. Bennett certainly would cause scandal, and your father would not be the only one paying the price.” Mama drew a handkerchief from her cuff and wiped her eyes. “People can be very unforgiving, Abby. And with your father away so much of the time, I depend upon my friendships. I know you’re disappointed now, but you must believe that your father is—”

  “So you’re on Papa’s side? You would rather see me in a miserable marriage than to bear the brunt of idle gossip. I thought you cared for me more than that.”

  “Surely you don’t doubt my affections after all I’ve done for you. But I don’t think you’re giving your father enough credit. He would not approve the marriage if he didn’t think Charles would do right by you.”

  “I know he truly believes we are a good match, but he makes no allowances for feelings. I care nothing for Charles, and he cares nothing for me
.”

  “Perhaps not now, but when you are married, when children come along—”

  The prospect of bearing Charles Kittridge’s children made Abby shudder. The memory of his viselike grip on her arms, the hard look in his pale eyes, reminded her that he was not the kind and gentle man her parents believed him to be. He was accustomed to getting his way. Her wishes would not matter at all. But anything she might say now about the way Charles had caught her alone on the piazza last summer and pressed his lips to hers, the way he had practically accosted her in the boathouse, would be seen as merely an excuse for breaking the engagement. “We have nothing in common, Mama. He’d rather have an arm amputated than read a book. What will we talk about at supper for the next forty years? The weather? His horses? The price of rice? And you know what hurts as much as anything? That Papa has no sympathy for my point of view. In some ways he’s just like Charles. Utterly lacking in compassion.”

  Mama looked truly stunned. “I will grant that your father can be stubborn. Opinionated. But he is not lacking in compassion. Hasn’t he spoken often enough of the reasons he wants to become governor? So that he can champion more schools and give the poor more opportunity?”

  “I’m not denying that Papa has some good ideas and worthy goals. But he—”

  “And just look at me.” Mama indicated her walking cane. “He chose to marry me despite my crippled leg. He saw beyond my twisted limbs to the woman I am down deep.”

  Before Abby could reply, Mama went on. “It’s true that my father settled a considerable dowry on me when your father and I married. But there were several girls whose families could have offered much more. Beautiful girls with two good limbs. When they ridiculed me because I could not dance, when they mocked me for my cane, it was your father who defended me.” Mama’s voice broke. “Say your worst about him, but he is a man of great compassion. And I can’t bear the defeated look that has overtaken him since yesterday. His fondest dream swept away in a matter of minutes.” She dabbed at her tear-swollen eyes. “If only you had stayed away from the boathouse.”

  Mama looked up at Abby with such brokenness that Abby’s own heart shattered. All her life she had been the delight of her mother’s life and the object of all her endeavors. Mama had made sure Abby had the riding lessons she wanted, the summer trips to Saratoga with her friends. The expensive French piano in the parlor at Mulberry Hall was there because Abby had wanted it. When Abby went through her awkward stage, gawky and frizzy haired, it had been Mama who assured Abby of her coming beauty and made sure Abby was the best dressed of all her friends. Her mother had tutored her through the difficulties of second-year Latin and had comforted her when the first boy she ever loved jilted her. Everything Abby was, and everything she might become, she owed to the woman who now sat beside her, wracked with sobs.