Nan Ryan (33 page)

“That’s right,” Crawford said, “it’s just a matter of time before all these darkies you see here will be free.”

“Well, you better take a good look at them then,” Ben laughed and took a drink of whiskey, “’cause everyone of them will hightail it out of here the minute they are free.”

“I don’t believe that, Ben.” Hunter said.

“I swear, Hunter, sometimes you sound like a Yankee yourself!”

“Ben, please,” Becky tugged on his arm. “Here Kathleen invites us over for Hunter’s birthday and you stand here insulting him.”

Ben removed her hand from his arm and turned to her, “Becky, go sit down, you look tired.”

“But, Ben …” she pleaded.

Hunter smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Becky. I’m not upset, but perhaps you and Kathleen should go sit down for a while.”

“Yes, come Becky, you shouldn’t be standing,” Kathleen said and drew her away from the circle of men.

With the women gone, the men once again turned back to the subject of slaves. Hunter turned to Ben and said, “I didn’t want to say this in front of the ladies, but I don’t want you taking Scotty to the slave block anymore.”

“Why, Hunter, the boys enjoyed it, I don’t see any harm in it.”

“Ben, we’ve been good friends for five years, you know how I feel about slavery.”

“Hunter,” Ben said, smiling, “slavery is a fact of life in the south. There is nothing wrong with it and someday your son will own slaves just like you and me. Are you telling me I’m wrong to own slaves?”

“Ben, that’s not what I said. I don’t know if it’s right or wrong. I just said I don’t want my son at the auction. I intend to teach him it’s wrong. You may teach your son whatever you like.”

“Well, thank you very much, Doctor Alexander. I’ll do just that. I never knew you felt this strongly about it, are you sure you’re a southerner? I’ll tell you, you’re being foolish. You free the slaves on this plantation and Sans Souci will cease operating!”

“Ben, I love the south as much as any of my neighbors and I would fight to the death to defend it. But I’m telling you the issue is not slavery and, as for all these people working the plantation, I still think they would stay and work here if they were free. It has been done before you know. Crawford tells me Dawson Blakely freed all his slaves years ago and the Negro servants and workers on his plantation didn’t leave. In fact, they have been loyal to him, wouldn’t think of leaving him.”

“He’s right, Ben,” Crawford Ashworth nodded his head. “It might not work in every case, but it has certainly worked for Blakely.”

“Dawson Blakely probably pays them all twice what they’re worth,” Uncle Rembert snapped and took a drink of whiskey.

*   *   *  

Kathleen and Becky sat at a table a few yards away watching the men, overhearing bits and pieces of their conversation. “Kathleen, I’m a nervous wreck. Ben’s been talking louder than anyone and I’m afraid he is insulting Hunter.”

Kathleen smiled and said, “Relax, Becky. Ben may get angry, but I assure you Hunter won’t. I’ve never seen him get mad. He’s an easy-going man, he’s never been really upset.”

“Well, I would hate to see him if he ever did lose his temper. I’m sure his wrath would be a great deal more frightening than my hot-headed Ben when he gets mad.”

“Don’t worry, Becky, Hunter won’t even raise his voice,” Kathleen reassured her girlfriend. “Look, Becky, there go Caleb and Julie slipping off to be by themselves. Have you ever seen such a lovesick couple in all your life? They’ve hardly had anything to do with any of the other guests they are so wrapped up in each other.”

“Yes, it’s wonderful,” Becky smiled, but immediately turned back to look at the small circle of men where her husband was now waving his arms and talking loudly.

Kathleen turned back to look at them, too, and she looked only at Hunter. The expression on his delicate features had not changed at all. He was talking, but the smile never left his handsome face as he logically discussed the South and all its problems with the excited Ben and the other gentlemen. The two women fell silent and looked at their husbands. As Kathleen watched Hunter, a delicious grin of anticipation spread over her face.

“Becky,” she said lazily, “don’t you think Hunter is handsome on his thirtieth birthday?”

Becky turned and looked at Kathleen as though she had lost her mind, “Kathleen Alexander, I have always thought Hunter is the best-looking man I’ve ever seen in my life. Good Lord, are you just now noticing it?” She shook her head.

“Perhaps I am,” Kathleen smiled and rose. “Excuse me, Becky, I think I’ll ask that very handsome man if he will take a walk with me,” and she went to the circle of men. “I hate to interrupt you all when you’re quite obviously solving all our problems,” she smiled and slipped her arm through her husband’s, “but if you don’t mind, I’d like to steal the birthday boy for a few minutes.”

The men laughed and Crawford Ashworth said, “Just in time, I would say.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Hunter smiled and left with his wife.

The sun was starting to set in the west, casting long shadows over the lawn. The relaxed, happy crowd milled around the big yard. Kathleen and Hunter walked in silence down the long path toward the white summer house. When they neared the small family cemetery, the slim forms of Lena and Lana Hamilton could be seen, bent over the graves of Louis and Abigail. Kathleen and Hunter walked to meet them.

“Miz Kathleen, we just wanted to put our new Mississippi flag on the grave of your dear father, we hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, ladies, that’s very sweet of you. I’m sure Father would be more than pleased.”

The sisters rose and Lana said, “I hope so. Oh, Kathleen, your father was such a fine man, we thought him one of the nicest gentlemen ever to live in Natchez. We will never forget when Lafayette came to Natchez in ’25, your father entertained him grandly in this very house and he invited us to join in the celebrations. Oh, there were gun salutes echoing off the river banks, parades and picnics and balls … it was just wonderful.” She clasped her hands together, remembering. “Those were the days, I tell you, no one knew how to entertain better than your dear father. He was the epitome of class and good taste. Wasn’t he, Sister?”

“Oh, yes indeed, Mister Beauregard was a man among men, no doubt about it.”

“Thank you, ladies, you’re very kind,” Kathleen smiled at both of them and the sisters went off together, talking about the old days.

“They’re really charming, aren’t they, Hunter?” Kathleen looked up at her husband.

“Yes, they are,” Hunter smiled, watching the two slim figures carefully pick their way back through the gardens and into the yard. “Kathleen, it’s so sad. I’ve never mentioned it before, but you should see their home. It is literally falling down around them. Nearly all the furniture has been sold and the wallpaper is hanging in loose shreds, there are huge holes in the floors, and their doors are boarded up against the weather.” Hunter shook his head, “You just wouldn’t believe it, it’s terrible. I’ve asked them more than once if I couldn’t have some of our men come over and do a little repairing for them, but they won’t hear of it. They say everything is just fine and for me not to worry about them, they will take care of it.”

“I had no idea it was that bad. Bless their hearts, why won’t they let you help them? I don’t understand it.”

“I guess, dear, all they have left is their pride. I wouldn’t want to take that from them.”

“No, of course not. What are we worrying for, they’re happy in their own way, I suppose.”

“Sure they are, let’s forget it. Thank you for my party, it was very sweet of you and I appreciate it. Shall we go back to our guests now?”

“No, Hunter, not just yet. Come, let’s sit in the summer house for just a few minutes and watch the sun set.”

“I really think we should get back.”

“Please, Hunter, just for a while.” She smiled seductively and took his arm.

They went inside the white-latticed gazebo and Kathleen sat down and patted the long white settee. Hunter took a seat beside her and, when he was settled, she moved over closer to him. They sat silently in the twilight as the last rays of the sun disappeared below the horizon.

Kathleen smiled and said, “Hunter, do you think I look pretty today?”

Hunter looked down at her and said, “You always look beautiful, Kathleen.”

“No, Hunter, I mean I wanted to look especially pretty for your birthday party, for you, dear.”

“Well then, you look especially pretty today. Satisfied?”

“Hunter, put your arm around me, please.”

“Kathleen.”

“Please, Hunter, put your arm around me.”

Slowly, Hunter raised his arm and put it around his wife’s shoulder, letting it drape over the back of the settee.

“That’s better,” she smiled and looked up at him lovingly. “Hunter, if I’ve never told you, I think you’re a very handsome man.”

Hunter cleared his throat and said, “Kathleen, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Don’t be, darling,” she whispered and put her hand to his cheek. She saw the strained look on his handsome face, but smiled and raised her face and kissed his cheek. He sat stiffly not moving while her mouth went to his lips. She kissed him lightly and pulled back a little to read his expression. She saw confusion written plainly on the delicate features and the muscle in his jaw began to twitch. She smiled and kissed him again and her arm went around his neck, her fingers caressing the curly blond hair at the back of his head. “Kiss me,” she whispered and moved closer. Hunter sighed and bent to kiss her lips. The mouth on hers was warm, responsive and Kathleen kissed him with wild abandon. She felt his hand come to her shoulders and she was sure he was about to wrap her in a powerful embrace. Instead he pulled her away and said evenly, “No. Stop.”

“But, Hunter, darling …”

Hunter rose and said, “Kathleen, this is a party, we have guests.”

“You’re right, darling,” she smiled and rose, too. “Later tonight?”

“No,” he said and moved away, “No. I have no desire for anymore teasing from you,” and he stepped out of the summer house.

“No, darling, I mean, I want you to …” Kathleen said softly, but Hunter’s long legs had already carried him away. Kathleen bit her lip and sat back down. “What have I done wrong? What do I do now? I must convince him I want to be his wife. Perhaps it’s too late, maybe he no longer wants me. That can’t be true, it can’t be. His kisses told me that. He still wants me, I will try again after the guests have gone.” Kathleen rose and went back to join the party.

The celebration continued until late that night and, when at midnight some of the men still remained to play poker in the library, Kathleen sighed and went up to her room. Hunter was not playing, but he stood watching, a drink in his hand.

“I think I’ll go on up, dear, you coming?” Kathleen put her hand on his shoulder.

“In a while,” Hunter said evenly.

“Go on, Hunter,” the men laughed, “we might be here all night. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Certainly not,” Hunter laughed and turned back to Kathleen, “Go on now. I’ll be up later.”

Kathleen sighed and climbed the stairs alone. Hannah was waiting in her room to undress her for bed. “Honey, how was the party? Did everything go like you wanted it to?”

“Not exactly, Hannah, Hunter is still downstairs. That’s not the way I planned it.”

“Never you mind, chile. He probably jest wants to give you time to undress. He be up soon.”

“You’re right,” Kathleen smiled. “Get me undressed, I want to be ready when he does come up.”

Hannah lifted the dress over Kathleen’s head. She laid out a new gold satin nightgown for Kathleen to slip into. “Honey, if this gown don’t do it, nothin’ will,” Hannah laughed as she pulled it over Kathleen’s head. The gown came high up to her neck and tied in back, but it dipped to her waist in the back and on each side it was slit past her thighs. So daring, even Kathleen blushed and giggled, “Hannah, I’m not sure I have the courage to wear this.”

“Sho you does, honey, Doctor Hunter won’t be able to resist you when he see you, now sit and I take yo’ hair down fo’ you.” Hannah’s work was finished, she left the room, saying, “Good luck, honey. I spects he be up real soon.”

Kathleen waited nervously in her room, sitting awkwardly in the revealing satin gown, praying Hunter would soon come upstairs and be pleased with her daring. She rose and paced nervously, finally walking to the door to crack it just a bit so she would know when he came up. She didn’t have to wait long. She heard him saying goodnight to the poker players as he stepped onto the bottom step, “Stay as long as you like, there’s plenty of food and liquor. I really have to get to sleep. Night all.” He started up the stairs.

Kathleen opened her bedroom door a little more and stood waiting for Hunter. Hopeful he would stop of his own accord, her breath caught in her throat as he neared her room. Hunter walked past the door without looking.

“Hunter,” she whispered and he stopped and turned. Slowly, he walked the few paces back to her and said, “What is it?”

“Hunter, will you come in for a minute? We can’t talk with you in the hall, our guests will hear us.”

“I’m sorry, Kathleen, I can’t. I’m going to talk to Scotty.”

“Scotty?” she smiled, “Darling, he’s sound asleep.”

“Then I shall wake him up,” he said evenly.

“But, why, I don’t understand …”

“I need to have a talk with him, that’s why. What did you want?”

“Tell you what, you go on in and see him a minute, then come back.”

Hunter looked at his lovely wife in the skimpy gold satin nightgown. The sight of her immediately brought erotic thoughts to him, but he fought it and said, “No, Kathleen, I’m not coming back. I’m going to bed and to sleep. Goodnight,” and he turned and left.

“But, Hunter …” Kathleen watched him go. She closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Tears of hurt and frustration filled her eyes. He had turned her down. Turned her down cold when there was no doubt at all what she wanted. Humiliated, Kathleen walked tiredly to the bed and picked up the slim, gold-wrapped box from the pillow. Hunter’s birthday present. She had planned to give it to him when they were alone. She clutched the new gold pocket watch to her breast. She laid back on the bed and cried, spoiling the gaily-wrapped package.