Passion's Fury (3 page)

April raised her slender arms, and they lowered the first crinoline over her head by the poles, careful not to muss her hair as they dropped it over the iron cage. As they reached to maneuver the second, April asked about Vanessa.

“She’s in there with Mandy, dressin’,” Cora told her. “She say she ain’t goin’ downstairs with you nohow, and you is
to just go on alone. She sounded mad, so I wouldn’t waste my time arguin’ with her if’n I was you. You know how ornery that girl can be. Don’t do no good to try to talk to her when she’s in one of her hateful moods.”

“Well, I’ll try to reason with her when I’ve finished dressing. This is one night she should be happy. Let’s hurry now, please.”

When the three crinolines were in place, Lucy brought the velvet ballgown that had arrived from Paris only a few weeks before. The sleeves were short, puffed, draping to leave her shoulders bare and her bosom provocatively displayed. The skirt, nearly six feet in diameter, hung in deep swags, each caught with a tiny gold lace rosette. Cora buttoned the bodice in the back and stood back to gasp her approval. “Lawdy, you is a lovely thing, Miss April. That green just sets off yo’ hair, and those little gold things on the skirt makes it all look so pretty.”

“Those are rosettes,” April said quietly, then smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Thank you, Cora. I don’t want to sound conceited, but I don’t think I’ve ever
felt
prettier, whether I look that way or not.”

She had not heard the soft knock on the door. Her father’s voice, filled with pride, startled her. “You aren’t pretty, my darling. You are absolutely magnificent! Never have I seen a more beautiful woman.” He walked over and kissed her cheek lightly.

“You look magnificent yourself,” she said affectionately as her gaze took in his fawn-colored trousers and brown velvet waistcoat.

He went on as though she had not spoken, placing his hands on her bare shoulders. His eyes seemed to burn into hers as he murmured, “You look like your dear mother. In the name of God, it’s as though I am seeing Lorena April again after all these years. The eyes, the hair, even the sweet, delicate smile, the touch of your skin…”

April stepped back, suddenly frightened. She could see the curious glances Cora and Lucy were exchanging. Her father turned suddenly and snapped his fingers at them. “Leave us now.”

They scurried from the room, and April turned to follow. “I suppose it’s time to make our entrance. I’ll just go and tell Vanessa.”

“No!” he said sharply. She paused, turning slowly, and saw that his eyes were almost glassy. “I have something for you…something I have waited till this night to present to you. I know your mother would have wanted it this way.”

She felt a flicker of relief, and she realized that she was constantly afraid he would think she
was
her mother. But that was silly. She chided herself for thinking such a thing. He was merely a man who had loved his wife deeply. And because she resembled her mother, she triggered memories which made him behave strangely at times.

He was holding out his hand to her. “This belonged to your mother. I gave it to her on our wedding day. It has been in the family for generations, always being given to the oldest son to present to his bride. Since I have no sons, I want you to have it, April darling, to carry on the tradition of the Jennings family.”

Curious, she moved closer, then covered her lips with both hands in a gasp of astonishment. He held out a ring—a ring more beautiful than any she had ever seen. There was a large diamond, surrounded by fire-red rubies and glistening green emeralds covering the band. When she could find her voice, she whispered, “I…I’ve never seen anything like it, Poppa.”

“I don’t suppose you have,” he grinned. “As legend goes, my great-great-grandfather had it made for his bride. The stones are pure, and the ring was fashioned in France by a famous jeweler who designed for the royal family. It’s priceless, of course, but its worth is not only in money.” He paused significantly. “The
possessor of this ring has undisputed claim to Pinehurst.

“Of course, it was worn by the mistress of the house,” he went on, “but it was designated that the bestower was the rightful, legal heir. This is my gift to you this day, April. I bestow on you not only this valuable family heirloom but also undisputed title to this plantation.”

She was speechless. With a trembling hand, she took the ring from him, astonished at its beauty. Then, suddenly, she thrust it toward him and said in a rush, “I can’t take it, Poppa. It isn’t right.
You
are the owner of Pinehurst. And besides, there is Vanessa to consider.”

His eyes narrowed. With quick, jerky movements, he grabbed her right hand and twisted the ring into position on her third finger. It fit perfectly. “It’s yours, and there will be no arguing. Of course, I am the owner of Pinehurst as long as I live, but everyone will know now that you are my heir. We won’t speak of Vanessa. You were the firstborn. Pinehurst is rightfully yours, even if she were deserving, which she most assuredly isn’t.”

He placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Now we will make
your
grand entrance.”

Stunned, April could only allow him to lead her out of the room, down the thickly carpeted hallway. When they passed the closed door to Vanessa’s room, her heart constricted painfully. How much more grief would the girl have to bear, she wondered, feeling guilty over her own blessings.

They reached the top of the stairway. The guests were mingling below the huge crystal gas chandeliers, sipping champagne and talking above the music of the string orchestra playing in one corner of the large foyer. One of the musicians was watching for Carter Jennings’s signal. When it came, he motioned to the orchestra for silence. The guests, sensing what was about to happen, began gathering in the foyer, looking upward toward the top of the stairs. The music began once more, and they smiled up in approval as April made her entrance on her father’s arm.

Everyone clustered about as April and her father reached the bottom step. April shook hands, received kisses, hugs, and exchanged pleasantries till she felt weak from it all. Someone handed her a crystal glass filled with champagne, and she turned to smile gratefully. But her smile quickly faded as she looked up into the lascivious gaze of Graham Fletcher.

He took her hand and began to lead her away from the crowd, whispering when she held back, “Come along now. You don’t want to make a scene now, do you?”

When they were away from the others, she snapped, “I didn’t know my father had invited you, Graham. I certainly didn’t ask him to.”

“Now is that any way for you to behave when I have just rescued you from all those vultures?” He made a disapproving sound as he shook his head, but then his eye caught the ring her father had just given her. “Well, I see Carter Jennings has decided to let everyone know officially who is going to inherit Pinehurst. But there was never any doubt in
your
mind, was there, my love?” His grin was mocking.

He had clasped her hand, but she snatched it away and hissed, “I don’t care for your impertinence, Graham, and I will thank you to go away and leave me alone. It was not my intention for you to be here, so please be a gentleman for once and respect my wishes. Stay away from me while you are here!”

She started to move away, but he caught her arm. “Now that is not being neighborly, April, and I hardly think your father would approve. You know he’s always tried to maintain good relations between Pinehurst and Fletcher Manor. After all, where would Pinehurst be if it weren’t for my family? Must I remind you that the underground stream that supplies water for your father’s land originates on my family’s property?”

“And he has paid you well for those water rights.” April was struggling to keep her voice down. If there was one human being in the world whom she could not stand it was Graham. It was not that he was unattractive. Far from it. All the young ladies swooned over his good looks. But he was disgusting. Twice she had slapped his face for pinching her breasts, and he had boldly asked her to meet him in the barn some evening for her “pleasuring.”

Graham continued to smile down at her. “That is a fetching dress, April. My, how I would love to see the bodice dropped just a wee bit lower. I’ve seen some fine breasts in my time, but I envision yours as the most luscious a man could ever ask for.”

April clasped her fingers tightly around the glass stem. “Graham, if you persist in your filthy insults, I am going to tell my father, and he will give you the sound thrashing you deserve!”

“You’re merely reacting indignantly because society demands it of a lady. One of these nights, you’ll stop your little charade and be the passionate, wanton vixen I know you want to be.”

His hand still clasped her arm. She picked it off carefully as though it were a loathsome bug. “Say just one more word to me, Graham, and I will throw this champagne in your face. I don’t care how big a scene I make.”

He struggled to keep smiling though anger was washing through him. “I could have that wild sister of yours any time I want, you know.” He straightened his cravat with trembling hands. “But who wants her when she’s probably frolicked with all your nigra field hands? You’re the one I want, April. And you, I shall have.”

She lifted her hand quickly, ready to splash the champagne in his face as she had promised, but he fastened tight fingers over her wrists. “Don’t do it,” he hissed ominously.

Their eyes locked in a gaze of fury, each challenging the other. “I’d rather be dead than lie with you, Graham,” April whispered.

He released his grip, stepping back. “I think you’ll change your attitude when the day comes for me to inherit Fletcher Manor. When your wells run dry, and your horses and cows die from lack of water—
my
water…”

“I pray a Yankee shoots you dead, Graham,” she said quietly. “I pray you are the first Confederate soldier killed in the war.”

His face reddened. April did not wait for his retort, but moved away quickly. He had asked her father’s permission to court her, but when April expressed disfavor, permission was refused. But Graham was not one to give up. Once rejected, he had resorted to vulgarity whenever he had the opportunity to torment her without being overheard.

She walked into the mammoth ballroom, taking a fresh glass of champagne from a passing footman and giving him her empty glass. The buffet was laden with giant silver platters of fruit, glazed ham, turkey, iced caviar, and a variety of lavishly decorated cakes and cookies. She nodded her approval to Posie, who stood by in a simple gray dress accented by a large white collar, a big white apron covering her large stomach.

“Have you seen Vanessa?” she asked.

Posie shook her head. “I just asked Lucy, and she ain’t seen her, either. Ain’t seen Mandy, though, so I reckon she’s up there helpin’ her get dressed. But I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Miss Vanessa didn’t even come down. Lucy says Mandy told her that Miss Vanessa knowed all along you had a fuss with yo’ poppa over her bein’ included in the party. She heard you two when you was arguin’. Maybe she just decided she didn’t want to come where she wasn’t wanted.”

April’s eyes widened in stunned surprise. “You mean Vanessa overheard my conversation with Poppa? Oh, no! I’ll go talk to her, make her see—”

“There you are, my darling.”

She looked around to see her father approaching with a distinguished-looking man.

“April, I want you to meet Lester Warrick. He is an aide to President Davis.”

She held out her hand, and the man bent to kiss her fingertips. “Miss Jennings, this is such a pleasure. I have heard what a beautiful woman you are, and now I see for myself that all I’ve heard is true.”

“You’re too kind,” she said, forcing herself to sound demure. She was anxious to go to Vanessa. “I know you must find your work with President Davis fascinating.”

“Oh, quite. He’s a remarkable man. Do you know him?”

“April hasn’t met him,” her father interjected. “We had hoped he would be able to attend tonight.”

Lester Warrick looked contrite. “I’m sorry, sir, but the President was invited to so many social functions this weekend that he just decided to stay at home and work on his inauguration address rather than choose which invitations to accept.”

“I understand. I’m sure April will meet him later. Now if you two will excuse me, I see someone I haven’t spoken with yet.”

He walked away, leaving April with Mr. Warrick, who began to expound on why Jefferson Davis was an excellent choice for President of the Confederacy. “He was a respected member of the cotton aristocracy, and is renowned not only as a soldier but as a statesman as well. He graduated from West Point, then served seven years at various frontier posts before quitting the army. Then, in 1845, he was elected to Congress but resigned a year later to command a regiment in the Mexican War. He came home a wounded hero and was sent to the United States Senate by appointment.”

Warrick paused to take a fresh glass of champagne from the buffet. Behind his back, April looked at Posie and rolled her eyes.

“Where was I?” He smiled. “Oh, I remember. The South is indeed fortunate to have a leader like Jefferson Davis in this time of crisis.”

April could not contain her sigh of relief when her father returned. “Well, are you two getting along well?” he greeted them.

“Mr. Warrick is quite interesting,” April replied, “but if you will excuse me, I would like to go upstairs and see what is keeping Vanessa.”