Among the Fair Magnolias Page 7

  “No, but it might as well be.”

  Wade removed a ring from his pocket and pressed it into her palm. “This is not the ring I hoped to give you, but it means a great deal to me. My father had it made from an old coin as a present for Mother on their honeymoon in Greece. Mother gave it to me when I went to medical college. She said it would bring me luck. I pray it will bring you good fortune.”

  Her fingers closed around it. Tears leaked from her eyes.

  “The image on the coin is that of Thalassa, a spirit of the sea.” He smiled down at her. “Mother loves the sea more than anyone I know. Except you.”

  She swallowed her tears and tucked the ring into her pocket. “Sophronia was right.”

  “About what?”

  “One summer, when I was fifteen or sixteen, I came home heartbroken from a picnic at White Point Gardens because Hugh Sumner had invited me and then turned his attentions to another girl.”

  “What a fool.”

  She managed a tremulous smile. “Sophronia told me to stay away from the ones I cared about most deeply, because loving them was sure to break my heart in two.”

  A gentle breeze billowed her skirt and loosened a lock of hair. She brushed it away and rested her head on his shoulder.

  Wade’s arms went around her. “I don’t suppose any of us gets to choose what our hearts want.”

  “It’s a mystery, isn’t it?”

  “And a great misfortune of the human condition.” He offered her his arm. “I hate to say it, but we ought to go.”

  They headed for the ferry landing, where passengers were gathering for the return trip to the island.

  Wade released her. Their eyes met for a long moment.

  “Wade, I—” She leaned against him, trembling, and felt the beat of his heart beneath her palm. “God keep you.”

  “And you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Good-bye, my dear. Try to be happy.”

  He turned and left her there. She watched him disappear into the crowd of passengers heading for the Nina, fighting a furious pain so deep she doubted she would survive it.

  “If you goin’ to Pawleys, miss, you better come on.” The ferryman motioned her on board.

  Her fingers closed over the ring in her pocket. This is not the ring I hoped to give you.

  The ferry dipped as it slid into the river current. Standing near the back, next to the chattering schoolgirls, Abby watched Georgetown recede into the distance. She imagined Wade settling into his cabin aboard the Nina, heading off for a life that would not include her.

  If only she could turn back the clock to last summer, when Charles had caught her alone and bruised her lips with his rough and furtive kiss. If she had told Papa then, perhaps he would have changed his mind. But she had kept silent. How terrible it was to look back and realize where she’d made her mistake. And to know that now it was too late to correct it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ABBY WAITED AT THE OPEN PARLOR WINDOW, WATCHING THE play of light cast by the flickering candles in the adjacent dining room. The setting sun drenched the beach in a rich amber glow and threw long shadows across the sand. The ocean’s steady breath was a soft caress against her skin, but tonight even the sea couldn’t soothe her.

  This afternoon’s return from Georgetown had been uneventful. The ferry arrived on time. She disembarked quickly and returned Judge Bennett’s horse and rig. If he was surprised that she had been gone all afternoon, he kept such thoughts to himself, merely nodding when she handed over the reins and thanked him for his generosity.

  The parlor door opened. Holding firmly to Mama’s arm, Papa ushered her and Governor Gist and his lady toward the dining room. Behind them came Charles and sharp-faced Cousin Ophelia, one pink-gloved hand resting on her son’s arm. Abby knew she should join them. To be late was rude. But she stood rooted to her place in the shadows, studying the man who all too soon would become her husband.

  He was handsome enough, with his dark-gold hair and clear blue eyes. Tonight, dressed in a gray suit of fine wool with a dark-blue cravat at his throat, the candlelight glinting off his hair, he looked quite dashing. Most girls would be pleased by a betrothal to such a handsome and wealthy suitor. But his lack of curiosity about the world, his lack of passion for anything that mattered, left Abby cold. As his wife she would be expected to be at his side as he engaged in endless, frivolous amusements, observing life but not living it as she wanted. And the disregard he had shown for her last summer—and again in the boathouse—filled her with dread.

  Shaking off her sense of doom, she stepped into the light and forced a smile.

  “There you are,” Papa said. “You look quite lovely, my dear.”

  She acknowledged her father’s compliment with a nod and forced a smile that included everyone. “Good evening, Governor. Mrs. Gist. Did you enjoy your outing this morning?”

  Mary Gist smiled. “We did indeed. I think this is the nicest time of year on Pawleys, don’t you?”

  “Oh, Abigail loves Pawleys in any season.” Charles spoke before Abby could form a reply. Did he not think she was capable of answering a simple question on her own?

  “Actually, I agree with you, Mrs. Gist,” Abby said. “August can be quite uncomfortable here, even in the shade. I do prefer May’s more temperate weather.”

  Molly and two kitchen girls appeared in the doorway carrying platters and serving spoons. Mama took her place at the foot of the table. The governor sat to her right. At the head of the table sat Papa with Mrs. Gist seated to his right and Charles next to her. Abby took her place on the opposite side, settling into her chair between Cousin Ophelia and the governor.

  Mama picked up her spoon, the signal that the meal could begin.

  “Well, Governor,” Papa said as they began the soup course, “I’m delighted you and Mrs. Gist were able to join us this year. I hope you enjoyed the barbecue.”

  Mrs. Gist dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Everything was lovely. I don’t know how you do it, Mrs. Clayton. Even with your staff to help, organizing so many guests for a three-day affair seems more daunting than any entertaining I do at Rose Hill.”

  “Will you be returning directly to the governor’s residence tomorrow?” Cousin Ophelia asked. “I imagine you’re eager to get home. I’ve always thought your plantation is the loveliest place in all of Union County.”

  “Actually, we’re going to New York first.” Mrs. Gist smiled at her husband. “William has acquired tickets to Adelina Patti’s concert. I was lucky enough to hear her debut performance last fall, and I’ve been wild to hear that lovely voice again. William wants to meet with a senator from Massachusetts while he’s in the city, so we’ll kill two birds with one stone, as they say.”

  Papa’s brows rose. He took a sip of Madeira. “What’s the meeting about, William?”

  The governor finished his soup and set down his spoon. “We’re discussing ways to prevent another strike like the one the shoemakers staged in February. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you it caused quite a lot of concern among all of the manufacturers in New England.”

  “They were right to stand their ground,” Papa said. “Nobody likes to issue threats to their workers. Heaven knows I don’t. But in this case, the possibility of losing their voting rights was enough to quell the rabble-rousers and keep the businesses open.”

  “From what I read in the papers last winter, not everyone agrees with you, Papa.” Abby paused while the soup bowls were cleared and the next course was served. “Most of the churches sided with the workers.”

  “That’s because the women in the congregations got involved in the situation.” Charles motioned for Molly to refill his glass. “I find it shocking that they inserted themselves into a debate where they clearly didn’t belong.”

  Abby frowned. “Why is that, Charles? What makes them unfit for comment on an issue that clearly threatened the women and children as deeply as it threatened the workers themselves? Surely the wearing of petticoats instead of breeches
hasn’t addled their brains.”

  Mrs. Gist laughed and turned in her chair to smile at Charles. “My word, Mr. Kittridge. I do believe you’re betrothed to quite a little firebrand.”

  His face reddened, but he smiled. “I believe you’re right, Mrs. Gist.”

  “Mary,” Mama interjected smoothly. “Mrs. Ravensdale told me that you and she visited Niagara Falls last summer. I’ve always wanted to see the falls. Is it as spectacular as they say?”

  “Every bit of it.” Mrs. Gist finished her pork pie and waved away more wine. “We happened to be there on the day that Frenchman—what was his name, William?”

  “Blondin.” He glanced up briefly as Molly served the fish and rice. “Charles Blondin.”

  “That’s right,” Mrs. Gist said. “Mr. Blondin walked clear across the falls on a tightrope. I thought I might faint dead away from sheer fright. One little slip and he would have plunged to his death. But he made it, and the crowd applauded for ever so long.”

  “I can imagine they would,” Mama said. “Though I cannot fathom why anyone would take such a foolish risk for no good reason.”

  “I quite agree.” Cousin Ophelia sent Abby a hard, accusing look. “Sometimes I am sure I don’t understand human beings at all.”

  “Perhaps we should ask Abigail,” Charles said. “I’m certain she can enlighten us.”

  Abby saw the challenging gleam in his eyes and knew he was still smarting from her earlier comments about the shoemakers. She took a long time setting down her coffee cup, refusing to let his barely concealed sarcasm silence her. “I suppose some people take enormous risks in order to feel truly alive. When one risks everything, whether in pursuit of some ideal or for personal pleasure, the reward must seem that much sweeter.”

  She smiled demurely and lowered her gaze. “But that’s only my opinion. I could be completely wrong.”

  “No, I think you’re quite correct, Miss Clayton,” the governor said. “Though of course one must be judicious when it comes to taking a risk for an ideal.” He set down his fork and sat back in his chair, apparently sated. “John Brown learned that lesson last winter after he raided Harpers Ferry.”

  Mrs. Gist caught her husband’s eye across the candlelit table. “Now, William. I don’t think—”

  The governor held up both hands, palms out. “You’re right, my dear. Murder, conspiracy, and hangings are hardly appropriate topics for dinner conversation. We must confront the problem of the abolitionists sooner or later though.” He caught Papa’s eye across the candlelit table. “But my term is up in December. Whatever happens, it won’t happen on my watch. You might want to reconsider whether you truly want the governorship, John. If Lincoln is elected this fall, the next man to occupy my chair will get much more trouble than he bargained for.”

  Molly reappeared to serve cake and coffee, then quietly withdrew as talk of John Clayton’s potential campaign continued.

  “My cousin is up for the challenge, sir,” Charles said, spearing his last bite of cake. “I can’t think of a steadier man to lead South Carolina through whatever turbulence is coming.”

  Papa smiled. “Thank you for that vote of confidence, Charles.”

  “You’ve my vote of confidence as well.” The governor drained his coffee cup. “And on that note, I suppose Mary and I ought to retire. I hate to conclude such a pleasant evening so early, but we’ll be away at first light tomorrow, and we’ve still some packing to attend to.”

  Mama inclined her head toward Mrs. Gist. “Shall I send Sophronia up to help you?”

  “Thank you.” Mrs. Gist smiled. “I do wish it weren’t necessary to travel with so many dresses. Sometimes I feel as if I need a special dray just to transport my hats and gowns. It’s ridiculous, really.”

  Mama rose, and the rest of the table rose with her. The governor kissed Mama’s cheek and thanked her for her hospitality. “No need to get up with us in the morning. Your Hector said he will call for us in time to make the first ferry.”

  “You’ll need breakfast by the time you get to town,” Mama said. “I’ll have Molly pack a basket for you.”

  “That would be most kind.” The governor shook hands with Papa. “I’ll see you in the city in the fall.”

  He turned to Charles. “Congratulations again, my boy, on your engagement.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Charles snaked an arm around Abby’s waist and squeezed so hard she winced. “We intend to be very happy. Don’t we, dear?”

  Abby swallowed. “Yes.”

  Cousin Ophelia kissed Mama’s cheek and retrieved her reticule from beneath her chair. “We ought to go too, son. I’m sure Hector is waiting to drive us over to Miss Augusta’s.”

  “You go on ahead, Mother,” Charles said. “I’ll be along in a while.”

  “But it’s getting dark.”

  “I’m not afraid of the dark. And it’s a beautiful night. I think I want to walk home, enjoy the moonlight.”

  “What a lovely idea.” Mrs. Gist linked her arm through her husband’s. “Let’s take a walk before we turn in.”

  The governor suppressed a yawn. “A walk? We’ve a long day tomorrow, Mary.”

  “We won’t stay out long. And a walk in the night air will make us both sleep better.”

  Mama motioned to her guests. “Go ahead if you like. I’ll find Sophronia and send her up whenever you’re ready.”

  Once the Gists and Cousin Ophelia had left, Papa retired to his study. Mama kissed Abby’s cheek and went in search of the housemaid, her cane tapping along the wooden floor.

  “Well, good night, Charles.” Abby turned and started for the stairs.

  “What’s your hurry?” He reached for her hand and pulled her toward the door. “Let’s take a walk as well.”

  “I’d rather not. I’ve had a long day. I’m tired.”

  “Tired? From doing what?”

  “Have you forgotten I was under Dr. French’s care last evening?”

  “Hardly. And while we are on the subject, I want to say I didn’t appreciate your theatrics.”

  “Theatrics?”

  “Your swoon when your father announced our betrothal. I know of your objections, but it wasn’t necessary to call attention to them in such a dramatic fashion. It was embarrassing.”

  “Papa told me I could take time to think about it, and the next thing I knew it was a fait accompli. I was shocked.” Abby rounded on him. “Though not as shocked as all my friends were by the vicious gossip your mother seems to have encouraged. It drove the Averys from our home. Did you know that?”

  “That accusation does not deserve a reply. Where were you all day anyway? I looked for you after breakfast, but Sophronia said you’d gone off somewhere.”

  “Yes, I had some things to do.” Eager to end the conversation, Abby crossed the hallway, but he blocked her way.

  “What sort of things?”

  “Nothing of interest to you.”

  “Try me.”

  She fought a rising sense of panic. Pawleys was nothing more than a narrow spit of land, only half a mile wide. There was hardly a place one could go without being seen. And people talked. It would be all too easy to be caught in a lie. “If you must know, I paid a call on Mrs. Bennett.”

  “And that took all day?”

  “No. I walked on the beach after I saw her. I had a lot on my mind.” She pressed a hand to her midsection. “I really would like to go up to my room now. I’m afraid I’m not feeling well.”

  “You felt well enough to make a fool of me at supper tonight.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry. I was merely stating my opinion.”

  He propelled her across the wide hallway to the parlor and closed the door behind them. He yanked her to him, so close she could see spittle forming on his lips. “Don’t you ever do that again,” he said, his voice hard-edged and insistent.

  “Are you telling me that in the future I am to remain silent at meals like a monk in a monastery?”

  “
If all you can contribute to the conversation is a joke at my expense.”

  “I’ve already apologized. Now please let me go.”

  She spun away with such force that the ring hidden in her pocket came out and rolled across the floor. Terrified, she bent to retrieve it, but Charles got to it first and halted it with the toe of his black boot. He picked it up and held it to the light. “What’s this?”

  “It’s mine. Please give it to me.”

  He turned it over in his palm. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “I’ve hardly given you an inventory of my jewelry. I have plenty of things you’ve never seen.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “It’s a keepsake from an old friend. It means a great deal to me.”

  “And yet you carry it your pocket rather than wearing it. Why is that, Abigail? Were you afraid to wear it in my presence?”

  “It’s too large for my finger. I was afraid of losing it.”

  “Ah.” He walked to the window and stared into the darkness. “Hector said he saw you returning from the ferry landing this afternoon.”

  Abby’s heart pounded. Was it true, or was he playing a game of cat and mouse, trying to trick her into confessing her whereabouts? She certainly had not seen Hector on her way to return Judge Bennett’s rig, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t seen her. “After I saw Mrs. Bennett, the judge lent me his rig. I took the ferry to Georgetown.”

  “The landing is not that far. You could have walked it easily.” He turned, his eyes darkened with anger. “Why the hurry? What was so important in Georgetown?”

  She shook him off. “Very well. After Papa’s surprise announcement I felt I owed Wade Bennett an explanation. The judge offered the use of his horse and buggy so I could get to the landing before the ferry left.”

  “And you went with Bennett to town.”

  “I told you when you first got here that my heart belongs to him. It still does. But for my family’s sake I am prepared to forgo my own happiness and marry you. Though I expect I will soon live to regret it.”