The Mirk and Midnight Hour (26 page)

“Ain’t no telling with some folks,” Laney said.

I agreed. No telling. I left Laney and settled myself in the sitting room with my sewing basket and the dress. Seeley wandered in soon after and dropped down to lean against my knee and read his book.

“You’re not worried about me being gone tonight, are you?” I asked, since he didn’t normally position himself quite so close.

“No,” he said. “But you’ll come and see me when you get back, won’t you? Even if it’s past midnight?”

“Yes, but you’ll probably be asleep by then. I mean, past midnight is awfully late.”

Miss Elsa and Sunny entered, with my stepmother looking blissful and Sunny cross, as she was so often with her mother. Miss Elsa patted my shoulder and whispered, “Isn’t it lovely news about Dorian and Anna Bess? I told you they were falling in love, didn’t I? I’m going to start on her wedding gown right away.” She turned to Sunny and said more loudly, “Buy some ivory satin when you’re in Tennessee with your smuggling or whatever it is you and Dorian are doing there, won’t you? I must work out the yardage before you go.”

Sunny grimaced and hissed, “Mama, don’t start that sort of thing when we don’t even know when the wedding will be.” She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, drat! I didn’t finish that last ghastly tea cozy, and if I don’t do the full amount, all the silly old biddies will spread it around that I didn’t donate my share.” She swept up her needle and thread. “Serves them right that they’re hideous.”

She snatched up the maligned tea cozy and dropped into a chair, but she never began stitching. Instead her hands lay clenched in her lap for several minutes. She had such an odd expression on her face that I followed her gaze. Her eyes were fixed on Seeley’s head, bent over his book. When he made a sudden move to look up and say something to me, she started.

“Are you all right, Sunny?” I asked.

“Of course. Why shouldn’t I be? It’s just this stupid—stupid sewing. I’m sick of it.”

She was acting so strangely, but I couldn’t make my stepsister tell me anything she didn’t want to. And that was what was so worrisome—
why
didn’t she want to? Sunny always before had tended to dramatic gushings, reveling in being comforted and petted. In spite of what she claimed, was she unsure about the whole
betrothal business? Her mood had to be Dorian-related, since every thought in Sunny’s head these days was connected to him.

As soon as I finished taking up the dress and pressing it in the kitchen, Sunny led me up to her bedroom. There she helped me into my gown, lacing it so tightly that I gasped and fastening all seventy-five mother-of-pearl buttons in the back.

“Let me fetch my ruche,” I said when I glanced downward and could almost see right down my bosom to my stomach. Evidently my mother had been more daring than I.

“Bless your heart, honey,” Sunny called as I raced across the landing to my bedroom, “how can you be a dashing belle who attracts scores of Texans if you aren’t at least a little improper?”

I ignored her and carefully tucked the lace ruffle along my bosom. Back in her bedroom she pushed me into a chair, curled my hair with hot tongs, dusted my neck and arms with scented powder, smeared on a touch of rouge, dabbed my lips with coralline salve, and fastened her own Venetian bead necklet about my throat.

“What is this?” she asked, tugging on the leather thong of my amulet.

“Oh, just a silly thing I always wear for good luck,” I said quickly.

“How queer. Put it in your pocket or something, then, because you can’t wear it with this dress.”

I did as she instructed.

She surveyed me critically. “Shoes.” She pulled open her wardrobe door and squatted down to riffle through the mound of shoes piled on the bottom. Finally, with a ladylike grunt, she drew out a pair of high-heeled, dove-gray silk slippers. “These will do nicely, although I expect they’ll be too small for you.”

Such satisfaction when they were actually too big, but wearable if I curled my toes; I was unfortunately used to shoes that didn’t fit. I tucked Thomas’s rose back into my hair.

“Now,” Sunny said, placing me in front of her bureau and tilting the mirror up and down so I could view my entire body, “behold my work of art. I’m much more talented at this sort of thing than sewing.”

If only Thomas could see me like this
.

She pursed her lips. “Must you keep that bedraggled thing in your hair?”

I reached up to lightly touch the blossom. “Yes. And before you say anything more, no, you can’t talk me out of wearing it.”

“How funny. You’re an odd girl, Violet, but I like you anyway. So much more than I did before we were sisters.”

I could have said the same about Sunny. We smiled at each other.

Before we left, I sought Dorian out to give him the letters for posting. I found him beneath the scuppernong arbor, hunched on the bench, hands clasped beneath his chin, evidently deep in thought.

He gave a long, low whistle and stood when he saw me. “Why, coz, I’m going to have to give you three cheers and a tiger! I’ve never seen your arms before—or at least not so much of them. I approve. You’re a dashing young lady who will attract scores of Texans with or without impropriety.”

I drew in my breath. “Oh, my land, you overheard Sunny!”

He laughed. “Naturally. That minx has a voice that carries. Well, I’m jealous of all those gentlemen who’ll be vying for a dance.”

“It’s Sunny you should be jealous over. She looks ravishing this afternoon. Be sure to tell her. In order to make up for—for—”

“Clearly I’m not the only one to overhear things,” he said coolly.

He gave me a second to blush and feel uncomfortable before he continued. “Yes, we had a spat; your stepsister can be infuriating.” He dug in his pocket. “Here, do you have one of those splendid—what were they?—pen wipers you were making? Let me buy one.”

“They’re in the house. Thank you. I’ll leave the very finest one on the table, but be sure to get a tea cozy from Sunny too.”

“Tea cozy, shmea cozy. Who would want a tea cozy if he can have a”—he edged closer—“pen wiper.”

He was flirting with me again and he was engaged to my stepsister. I thrust the little packet of letters at him. “Here. You said you’d take these.”

“So I did. Let’s see.… Aunt Lovy, Miss Lucy Taylor, and who are these Yankees you’re so anxious to correspond with? Hmm … Mr. and Mrs. Josiah Lynd.”

“They’re old friends of my mother’s. I’d like to reassure them that we’re doing all right down here.”

He continued to study the address.

“Dorian, must you be so nosy?” I said, grinning to soften the words. “Now I’ve got to go. Sunny’s waiting.”

I scuttled away, praying he’d take no further notice of the letter.

Sashes, scallops, ruffles, and curls flapped in the wind as we bowled along in the buggy toward Chicataw and the Summer Bazaar.

Miss Elsa had pulled herself together enough to join us. “So tiresome having to venture out without my beloved husband, but I cannot send you off unchaperoned. And after all, one must support our gallant gentlemen.” Her eyes shone at the prospect of an outing. She wore a grass-green day dress with a wide silk fringe and a straw bonnet with streaming green ribbons. The summer sun was still bright this late in the day. She squinted at the unaccustomed brilliance, and the breeze whipped pallid rose into her pearly skin. She should be encouraged to leave the house more often.

“Miss Dancey!” I heard my name called above the rumbling wheels.

Old Jubal stood once again under the arbor of Miss Ruby Jewel’s house, waving his arms to catch our attention.

Sunny gritted her teeth. “No! Not now. Pretend you don’t see him.”

“I can’t. Let me down and y’all go on ahead. I’ll see what he wants and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no, no,” Sunny sighed. “And ruin my handiwork with you getting all dusty and sweaty? We’ll wait, but be quick.”

Michael reined in Star and I hopped down.

“I wasn’t sure, Miss Dancey,” Jubal said as I approached, “if you had heard about Miss Ruby Jewel.”

“Why, no. What is there to hear?”

“She’s—she’s dying. You always were kind to her—never ran when she asked for you, as some did.” A little fire blazed at the back of his dark eyes. “I got so angry at those folks who ran; she only asked for a few minutes of their time. You always came, so I wanted you to know.”

Guilt tickled the back of my neck. I might never have run, but I certainly walked quickly past this house. And she had tried to help me that last time—to warn me. I had almost forgotten it with all else that had gone on. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Dr. Hale says nothing can be done but wait. Maybe you would be so good as to pray for her.”

“I will. She’s a lucky lady to have such a loyal friend in you. I’m sure she’s known all these years how blessed she was.” I would have headed back to the buggy, but something in Jubal’s expression made me hesitate. Coming from him was a sense of strength and sorrow and a bewildered loneliness. To whom else could Jubal confide his grieving? “Let’s go into the shade so you can tell me more about what’s going on.” I waved to the buggy, trying to signal them to drive ahead, but I didn’t wait to see if they did.

On the porch, Jubal removed one of his mistress’s wide lace collars from the chair where evidently he had been sitting to mend it. I took the seat and gestured for him to take the other chair.

He lowered himself rustily and dragged one long, gnarled hand down his sagging cheeks. “She doesn’t hardly talk and doesn’t want visitors. Can you imagine that? Poor little thing. Poor little mistress.”

I shook my head. It couldn’t even be Miss Ruby Jewel anymore if she didn’t want company.

He gave an almost sob and raised his hands in a gesture of frustration. “ ’Twas those blamed gingersnaps. So many times I’d say, ‘Please, please, Miss Ruby Jewel, don’t make me bake any more of those things.’ I begged her and begged her, but she never would listen. ’Twas the devil in her. Just couldn’t get enough of them. Dr. Hale said she’d die of gingersnaps, and looks as if he was right. She always has loved sweeties, even after she got the disease that makes them death to her.”

“And yet it’s the way she wants to go. She said so once.” I touched his sleeve. “Why did you stay here so long, Jubal? In all these years why did you never try to run away? She couldn’t have stopped you.”

He smiled a slow, sad smile. “Used to think about it in the early days. Sometimes I’d plan how I’d bolt all the way to Canada. Or sometimes I dreamed about returning to the Farridays—those were the folks I worked for back in Virginny and who my mammy and pappy worked for before I was born. I’d picture the smile lighting up master’s face when I came home to him.” He smoothed out the collar across his knees. “But Miss Ruby Jewel, she was so small and so pitiful and alone I just couldn’t leave her. She can talk big and
mean, yet I’ve seen her frightened and weeping like a child. She never did have anyone but me. Her husband was worthless. Then the years went by and, if you believe it, we became friends. We really did.”

“I believe it.”

“Whoever gets this place will think I come with it, but I don’t expect I’ll stick around. Too old to get used to someone else. Of course, my folks are all dead back in Virginny, but I might … The gingersnap misery’s eating away on mistress’s innards, and when it finally eats clean through”—he swallowed with obvious pain—“I have a little put by and I reckon I’ll slip off and mosey on up there finally. To talk to master as one man to another, if he’s still lingering in this vale of tears. And even if he’s not, I’ll go there just to see the place again. ’Twas called Rosedown and the garden had a hundred kinds of roses.” He brought out a big red handkerchief and wiped his forehead.

From inside, Miss Ruby Jewel shrieked out. I pictured her lying on her bed as I had seen her last—short, stiff, and bony, covered with cats.

Jubal grimaced. “Poor little girl. Poor little mistress. Most of the time I sit by her, but I come out here when I can’t stand it anymore. Dr. Hale gave me a powder to mix in her drink to help her sleep, and she screams without waking.” A slinky black tomcat came up and wound himself around Jubal’s legs. “What’s worrisome to me is, if I go, what will become of the cats?”

My mouth wanted to say I would care for them, but I closed my lips tightly until the temptation passed. No matter how sorry I felt, I would not offer to take those repulsive beasts. I rose. “Let someone else figure that out. Don’t take on that problem.”

He held up the collar and then let his hand drop again as if it were heavy as lead. “I was trying to fix this rip. I’m afraid this one is beyond me, even though I’ve gotten right handy with a needle through the years. It’s her favorite collar too.” A slow tear trickled down a seam in his cheek.

“Let me do it,” I said. “I can fix it good as new.”

He started to hand me the collar, but hesitated. “It needs to be done quickly. So she can wear it in her—her final rest.”

“I’ll bring it back to you soon. Promise. And I’ll bring a book you can read to her too as you sit beside her. A boys’ adventure book. It’s called
Castle Sliverbone
.”