All Things New (30 page)

“No.”

“Well, see? It will be a luxury to consider more than one suitor. Your brother and Harrison were so close. I can’t help thinking that Samuel would be pleased if you married his friend.”

Josephine’s legs felt unable to hold her as Willy helped her down from the carriage. All she wanted to do was run upstairs to her room where she could finally let herself cry. But she carefully removed her gloves and hat in the foyer so Mother wouldn’t ask questions, then made her way slowly up the stairs to her bedroom.

Mary and Daniel were waiting for her, sitting on her bed. Her letters from Alexander Chandler were in Daniel’s hand.

All of Josephine’s pent-up rage and anguish exploded from her, and she leaped at her brother, trying to tear the letters from his grasp. “What are you doing with those? They’re mine!” He was too strong for her. He easily fended her off as he rose to his
feet and held them above his head where she couldn’t reach them. She turned to her sister and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. “How could you, Mary! How could you touch my private things? You have no right!”

“Stop it, Jo!” Daniel said. “Stop it!” He pushed between them and shoved Josephine away from Mary. He had stuffed the crumpled letters into his pocket. “Just sit down and calm down. Do you want Mother to hear you?” He forced Josephine backward until she sank down on Mary’s bed, her trembling legs no longer able to hold her. “Mary showed me the letters because she was worried about you. She says you’ve been meeting that Yankee in the woods, all alone. These letters prove what’s been going on—‘My dear Josephine,’” he mimicked. “‘You should marry for love . . . Yours, Alexander.’”

The thought of Mary and Daniel sitting together, reading her private letters, filled Jo with outrage. She sprang to her feet and lunged at him again. “You have no right! My life is none of your business!”

“Stop shouting,” Daniel said. His voice was low and unnaturally calm as he restrained her. “We’re the ones who have a right to be furious, not you. You’ve been carrying on shamefully with one of our enemies. So listen to me now. You will never see him or talk to him or write to him again, do you understand?” He tightened his grip on her wrists. “Because I’ll place you under lock and key if I have to, to make sure that you don’t. You’re a disgrace, Josephine!”

“No! You’re the disgrace! I know what you’ve been doing. You set the school on fire and beat Otis and Willy and those other helpless people out in the woods. You murdered two defenseless people! You’ll be sorry, too! Alexander Chandler is investigating everything, and he has witnesses. He’s going to find out that it was you!”

“Are you accusing me?”

“Yes! It was you and your friends who did all those terrible things.” She turned to her sister, wanting to hurt her, as well. “Joseph Gray was one of them, Mary. He’s just as guilty as Daniel is. Do you want to marry a man who is capable of murdering innocent people?”

“That’s a lie!” Mary said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Where’s your proof?” Daniel asked. “How dare you make accusations without any proof?”

“I know that you and the others went out that night. Your jacket smelled of smoke the next day.”

“That could have come from any campfire or even from a fireplace,” he said with a shrug. “But I have proof of what you’re doing, right here!” He pulled the letters from his pocket and waved them at her. “Shall I show these to Mother?”

“Go ahead. They’re just letters. I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I saw you with him in the woods,” Mary said. “You were holding his hand.”

“I’d say you have plenty to be ashamed of,” Daniel finished. “But listen to me. You’ve not only put your own reputation at risk, but you’re jeopardizing your family’s safety. Do you know what they do to people who collaborate with the enemy? Do you?”

“Get out of here, both of you! Go away and leave me alone!”

Daniel shook his head. “I’ve decided not to tell Mother what you’ve been doing because it would kill her, Josephine. You’ll break her heart. She has suffered enough already. But from this moment on I’ll be keeping a very close eye on you. There will be no more meetings and no more letters.”

Someone knocked on the bedroom door, and a moment later Mother came inside, still glowing from her visit with Priscilla. “Well, here you all are! Did Josephine tell you her good news?”

“No, what news?” Daniel broke into a smile, casually sliding the letters back into his pocket.

“Harrison Blake is interested in courting Josephine!” Was Mother truly that blind? Couldn’t she see the anger on their faces or feel the tension in the room?

“That’s wonderful news, Josephine,” Daniel said, turning to her. “No wonder you look so happy. See, Mother, she’s crying tears of joy. I certainly give my approval to the match. Harrison is an even better catch than Henry Schreiber.”

Daniel finally managed to herd Mother and Mary from the room, leaving Josephine alone at last. Her world had been shaken to pieces just as it had been shaken during the war. The devastating losses had already begun: the loss of her freedom, her independence, the loss of her friendship with Alexander . . . and there was nothing she could do about it.

She would write one last letter to him and give it to Roselle to deliver tomorrow morning. Daniel had taken away her writing paper, but she tore a scrap from the margin of one of her books and wrote on it:

Dear Alexander,

Our letters have been discovered. We cannot see each other or write to each other anymore. I’m so sorry.

Josephine

28

J
ULY
13, 1865

“Where is Josephine?” Eugenia asked at breakfast. “Isn’t she coming downstairs? Her food is getting cold.”

Mary stared at the tabletop. “Jo said to eat without her,” she mumbled. “She doesn’t feel well.” The dance had put new life into Mary and she had seemed so happy and confident in the days that followed. Eugenia hoped she wasn’t going to turn back into a frightened rabbit again.

“Are you ill, too?”

“No.”

“Then kindly stop sitting there like a wilting flower and eat your breakfast. And please stop chewing your fingers.” Mary pulled her fingers out of her mouth and picked up her fork, but her shoulders were still hunched. “Must I add you to my list of worries, too?”

“No, Mother.”

“Josephine didn’t come down for supper last night, and now she’s skipping breakfast? It isn’t like her to get sick.”

The meal seemed very subdued with neither Mary nor Daniel saying much. They had been quiet at dinner last night, too. As soon as Eugenia finished eating, she went upstairs to Josephine’s
room and found her still in bed with the pillow over her head, the curtains closed.

“Are you all right, dear?” Eugenia parted the mosquito netting and lifted the pillow off her face. Josephine’s eyes were red and watery, her nose congested. “You’ve been in this room since yesterday afternoon.”

“I don’t feel well.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just a summer cold. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you have a fever?” Eugenia laid her hand on Jo’s brow. It felt warm and clammy, but then the entire bedroom was humid and stifling even though the day had just begun. “Why don’t you come downstairs? It’s cooler in the drawing room where there’s at least a breeze from the terrace.”

“No, thank you. I don’t want to make everyone else sick. ”

“Well, you’ve caught this cold at a very bad time. With two eligible suitors showing interest, you should be paying visits and accepting callers.”

“I’m sorry,” Jo said. Her nightgown and hair were damp with sweat. The bed sheets, too. She did indeed look miserable.

“I am simply thrilled about your prospects, dear. Someday you’ll look back at this as one of the happiest times in your life.”

Josephine didn’t reply. She covered her eyes with her hand.

“You never told me what you thought about Harrison as a suitor? I don’t want to rush you into anything, but you do know that Priscilla and I would be overjoyed if you two decided to marry.”

“I haven’t been able to think about anything. I’ve had a very bad headache since yesterday.”

“I realize you’re probably not in love with either man yet, but I hope you remember what the alternative is.”

“Of course I do.”

“Good. Should I send Lizzie up with a tray? Would you like something to eat, something to drink?”

“No, I don’t want anything. I just want to sleep.”

Eugenia heard sounds of activity downstairs. She listened for a
moment and thought she heard the front door opening and closing, then men’s voices in the foyer. Had someone arrived? David Hunter, perhaps? She used Josephine’s mirror to tidy her hair before hurrying downstairs to the foyer. The hallway was empty; whoever it was had come inside and then vanished without any proper greetings at all. She heard voices in Philip’s study and listened at the door. It sounded like Joseph Gray’s voice, but it was much too early in the morning for him to call on Mary. Eugenia hoped nothing was wrong.

She was about to go into the study and greet him when she heard Daniel say, “This is serious, Joseph. That Yankee at the Freedmen’s Bureau is going to investigate the fire. And he’s determined to find out who killed those two Negroes. He has witnesses.”

“Does your slave know it was us? What about that other slave, your driver? Wasn’t he there, too?”

“I don’t know if they recognized us or not, but we need to get everyone together and decide what to do. Spread the word. We’ll meet here tonight after my family is in bed.”

It had been a long time since Eugenia had felt the pain in her chest, but the heaviness began to build as she listened to Daniel’s conversation, the pressure tightening, squeezing the air from her body. She staggered to her morning room, leaning against the walls for support and sank into her chair. Those foolish, foolish boys. She needed to stop them from making a very bad situation worse—but how? Daniel had dismissed her concern the last time she’d tried to reason with him. He’d told her not to worry, to let him be the man of the house. He likely would tell her the same thing now.

Eugenia wished she had someone to talk to about this, but who? Her friends would all tell her not to interfere, to let the men attend to their own business. That was what she used to do when Philip was alive. But the Yankees hadn’t been occupying the South when Philip was alive. If Daniel and the others got caught, they wouldn’t face a friendly judge who understood why the Negroes had to be kept in their place.

The only person Eugenia could think of to talk to was David
Hunter, but she hadn’t seen him since the night of the dance nearly two weeks ago. She missed him—even though she now had more social activities to occupy her time. But as she closed her eyes against the pain, struggling to breathe, she longed to have him come to her rescue as he had once before. If only she could confide all her worries in him and ask him what to do. She longed to hand the problem over to him and let him take care of it for her the way Philip used to do. But she was too ill to ride into town and talk to him, too ill to visit Priscilla on the odd chance that David would be there with Harrison. If Eugenia sent a servant to fetch him, her children would learn about her spells.

She sat in her chair for a while longer, waiting for the pain to subside, before suddenly remembering that Josephine was also sick. Why not use Jo’s fever as an excuse to send for Dr. Hunter? Eugenia groped for her silver bell and rang for one of the servants. It seemed to take forever for Lizzie to shuffle into the room.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Tell Willy I need him to go into town to fetch Dr. Hunter. Josephine is ill, and I’m worried about her.” Eugenia thought she saw a look of concern in Lizzie’s eyes before she turned away.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She heard Joseph Gray leave the house a few minutes later, but it seemed to take forever before Eugenia finally heard her own carriage leaving for town. Willy was old and slow. She should have sent Otis. Another eternity passed before Eugenia heard the carriage returning, and by that time the fire in her chest had eased into dying embers. She went to the door herself and saw David riding on the carriage seat beside Willy as if to remind her of his familiarity with Negroes and the gulf between the doctor’s class and her own. Would it be a mistake to confide in him about Daniel?

“Good morning, Eugenia,” he said as he stepped down. He untied his horse from behind the carriage and tethered it to the post.

“Will you be needing the carriage again, ma’am?” Willy asked.

“No, you may put it away.” She turned to the doctor as the carriage headed back to the stables. “Thank you for coming, David.
I’m worried about Josephine. She hasn’t eaten since yesterday, and summer fevers can lead to so many terrible things, as you well know. I don’t think our family could bear another loss.”

“I understand.”

He was so quiet. He had barely looked at her or greeted her. Eugenia knew she had hurt him the night of the dance and she was sorry. She didn’t know how to make it up to him.

“I’ll show you to Josephine’s room.” She led him upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door. “Josephine? Please don’t be angry with me, dear, but I’ve sent for Dr. Hunter. It will ease my mind if he has a look at you.”

“Come in.” Josephine rolled over to face them as they entered. Her eyes were terribly red and swollen. “Please leave us alone, Mother.”

“Very well. Let me know if you need anything, Doctor.”

Eugenia went downstairs to wait, pacing the front hallway, wondering what to do about her children. It almost seemed as if God didn’t want her to be happy. Just when things were going so well and she dared to hope her life might one day be happy again, she had cause to worry about all three of her children. She was standing in the open doorway, gazing at the weeds that had taken over her yard, remembering how lovely this view of her plantation once had been when David finally came downstairs. She hurried to the bottom of the steps. “Well? Will she be all right? Do you know what’s wrong with her?”

“There’s no fever. I’m sure she’ll be fine in a few days. Just let her rest until the illness runs its course. If she does develop a fever, send for me right away.” He was moving toward the door. He was leaving.

“Must you leave? Do you have a moment to talk?”

He seemed to hesitate before saying, “I have some time.”

“Would you like something to drink? Shall I ring for a servant?”

“Nothing, thank you.”

Eugenia led him into the parlor. He chose a chair, not the sofa, and sat with his leather physician’s bag on his knees. Eugenia
remembered how he had lifted her into his arms and carried her in here after she’d had one of her spells. He had been so tender, so filled with concern for her that day. Now he acted as if they were strangers.

“David, I fear I have offended you, and I want to apologize. When you left the dance without saying good-bye, I knew—”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize. It was very rude of me to leave that way. I sensed that I had irritated you, and I didn’t want to make matters worse. But I had a very nice time that evening. Thank you for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome.” There was an awkward silence. Eugenia had been trained to avoid such silences, but she felt tears pressing against her eyes and didn’t know why. Her throat felt so tight that she feared the tears would spill over if she tried to speak. David broke the silence first.

“How have you been feeling, Eugenia? Any more pain in your chest?”

She shook her head, lifting her chin to keep back the tears. “Planning the dance was like a tonic for me. I’ve never felt better. And the dance turned out to be the beginning of better days. My girls have attracted the interest of suitors, and I have been entertaining many of my old friends for tea—not that we have real tea, mind you. But we do have cream. And butter for our bread now. And more servants and a new cook . . .” She stopped, her throat tightening again. She hoped he wouldn’t ask what was wrong because she really didn’t know.

“Everyone could see how happy you were that night. I’m glad you’re feeling better and that my medical services are no longer needed.”

His words sounded so cold. But what did she expect? Why should he waste his time on a friendship that could never develop into something more? Hadn’t she told him that she didn’t think the traditional class barriers should be erased?

“You’ve worked hard, Eugenia, and I have no doubt that you’ll accomplish whatever you put your mind to. In a few years, White Oak will be thriving again.” She could only nod, and in spite of
all her efforts to hold them back, her tears began to overflow. His features finally softened, and she saw tenderness in his eyes as he leaned forward. “Eugenia. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Daniel. I’m worried sick about him. Please don’t tell anyone I said this, because I-I can’t be certain . . . but I believe he may have been involved in the fire at the slaves’ school. And now . . . I’m afraid he and his friends are planning something else. Joseph Gray is involved, too, and my daughter Mary has her hopes set on courting him and . . . How can I get them to settle down and forget about night patrols and all the rest of it? Why is Daniel wasting his time with all of this instead of helping me get our old life back?”

“If you want everything back the way it was, then the hatred and brutality toward Negroes is part of that picture. Daniel and his friends have lost control over their former slaves, and this is their way of getting it back.”

Eugenia stared at her lap. She knew what David said was right, but it sounded so wrong.

“You have your definition of how you want the South to be,” he continued, “and those young men have theirs. Didn’t you tell me there have been too many changes already? Daniel doesn’t want things to change any more than you do. The only people who want things to be different than they were before the war are the former slaves. They want the freedom to go wherever they please and live wherever they choose. They want to educate their children. But that’s what Daniel and the others are fighting against.”

“It’s so complicated, isn’t it?” she asked, blotting her tears, ashamed of them. “How do we untangle this mess?”

“Either we all change or none of us do. Either we start all over again with a new South or everything goes back to the way it was. No one will accept half measures.”

“I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried talking to Daniel, but he dismisses me. He wants to be in charge and—”

“Isn’t that what you wanted? For him to be in charge? Isn’t that the way things used to be, with your husband and your sons making all the decisions?”

“Yes, but how can I stand by and let him take part in violence? The Yankees are policing us, controlling the courts. They don’t understand the South. I-I don’t know what to do, David . . . what should I do?”