Southern Legacy: Completed Version Page 17

  Jo made no argument. It would serve no purpose. Grace Ann wasn't responsible for her brothers' faults. To Charleston society, the bad blood between Grandpa Henry and Papa had been whitewashed, dealt with between the men themselves. The final resolution seemed to satisfy her papa, and she took heart in that fact.

  Initially, Jo was saddened to leave the shore, but her mood altered when she returned to the city. A warming sensation swept through her as the wheels of the carriage rolled over the narrow, cobbled streets, and passed by familiar sights. This is what Papa understood.

  The houses surrounded by lovely gardens and giant oaks and palmettos, the shops along King Street, the salons where political rhetoric flowed over into the streets, the view of the ships in Charleston Harbor. Everything was as it was before she left as she had always known it to be. It was home, a part of her.

  The peal of the church bells announced the Sunday sermon had been brought to a close. She could not deny the affect the familiar sound had upon her. Memories disturbed the smooth peace she had found away from this city—assaulting her casual acceptance of the events that had unfolded over the last few months.

  Her sensibilities ruled her heart, not allowing her the ability to mourn what she had lost. She could not afford to release the wall she had erected. No, her fate lay with the man her father had arranged she should marry. She would not contemplate a different path. She would behave in the manner demanded of a good Southern woman.

  Releasing a pensive sigh, she moved along side of her fiancée. Surreptitiously, she studied the man who would be her husband within the week.

  Andrew Montgomery leaned against his cane. Handsome enough, Jo supposed. Not as tall as the other Montgomery men, his dusty blond hair was cut short along with his sideburns. He had grown a goatee but kept it neatly trimmed. His stance lent to the conclusion his leg pained him.

  He was a quiet, studious man. His soft brown eyes rarely sought Jo's, but she had seen compassion in them toward others. His time devoted into becoming a doctor. He, too, had only recently returned to Charleston, having finished the last of his studies in Philadelphia.

  Jo assumed he would set up his doctor's practice here in Charleston, but he had not yet stated that fact. Neither had he talked of the plantation that would be theirs, Magnolia Bluff. In truth, he had told her little. Their marriage was born of obligation, not love.

  Papa's lawyers had met with Andrew immediate upon his arrival. The settlement between Papa and the Montgomerys had been finalized. It would not be the wedding of her dreams, but drawn from a legal agreement.

  Her reluctant fiancé had been the epitome of politeness, but she sensed his repulsion. The man, who soon would be her husband, hated her, more so now than ever. He would marry her to save his family's fortune. She would marry him to be her father’s dutiful daughter.

  Oh, what might have been…if only Cullen… No, no, no! She pushed the memories from her mind, if not her heart.

  At the foot of the church steps, Jo instantly recognized the lady heading their way. The mother of one of Clarissa's friends, Deborah Wilder. The older heavy set woman greeted the couple with a warm smile.

  "Was it not a wonderful service? One leaves Reverend Riley's sermon feeling vindicated," Mrs. Wilder said, stepping closer to Jo. "It makes me feel good knowing God is on our side."

  Jo sensed the woman wanted to continue the good reverend's sermon and condemn all Yankees. Jo was not one to run from a challenge. She would have like nothing more to point out that in the northerner churches, they, too, were preaching the same, except, she was certain that they thought God was on their side.

  "I enjoyed it greatly," Andrew offered. "Reverend Riley is a fine speaker."

  "I have said it many times…you have only to ask Mr. Wilder that I have…we are indeed fortunate to have Reverend Riley here in Charleston. They tried you know to convince him to go to Savannah, but he would have nothing to do with it. Said his home is here. Did my heart good," Mrs. Wilder went on. "Of course, I assume he is marrying you two on Saturday."

  A small smile emerged on Andrew’s lips. "I asked him myself."

  Jo couldn't remember Andrew smiling in her company. It was only then she noticed the tight lines around his mouth ease; his eyes held a softness she had never seen. For Heaven’s Sake! He can be pleasant when not in conversation with me. He is just as miserable as I about our union!

  "Josephine," Mrs. Wilder said as she reached over and squeezed her hand. "I have a confession…I saw..."

  Jo exchanged a confused look with Andrew. She looked back at Mrs. Wilder. "Saw? I'm sorry…"

  Mrs. Wilder took in an exaggerated breath. "Your gown. I swear I have never seen a gown so breathtaking! Why Ellie…Miss Haney… told me, it had come from Paris."

  "Papa surprised me with it when we returned to Charleston."

  Papa had seen to it that the whole of her wardrobe had become most fashionable. Why she wore the most flattering rose floral print this morning. The skirt was tied back to show the tiers of elegant white ruffles and her bonnet matched the lovely pink in her gown. Her dark tresses gleamed richly, drawn back from her face in an openly woven white silk net.

  "It is quite exquisite, especially the pearls beaded into the gown and the lace!" Mrs. Wilder exclaimed, then abruptly her voice lowered. "I declare, Josephine, I was shocked though. Did I see your girl getting fitted in the back room? At first, I thought I was seeing things. Of course, I cornered Miss Haney…she didn't want to, but eventually she confessed you ordered the girl several items from her store. All hush…hush."

  "If you mean…"

  "I understand," Mrs. Wilder released Jo's hand and patted it ever so gently. "Truly I do. You have a compassionate heart. I say this only because your poor momma is not here to do so. God bless her soul." Her voiced hissed underneath her breath. "But you can't have a blackie in our dress store…shopping!"

  Immediately, the woman straightened herself. "Of course, I would never say a word about what I saw. Poor Miss Haney would suffer so if everyone knew she serviced slaves. What else could I do? Phyllis is such good friends with your Clarissa." She glanced around. "Where is the lovely girl?"

  For a brief moment, Jo considered the unfairness of it all. She wanted to retort that Gillie was no longer her servant or slave. Jo had only wanted Gillie to enjoy the moment. The courts had finalized the official papers that freed Heyward and Gillie. Gillie would travel with Jo to Philadelphia after Jo’s wedding to enjoy one of her own; a true wedding stemmed from the love Gillie and Heyward had for each other.

  Jo had not asked much for her own wedding. It was deemed best to have a small affair, immediate family only at the ceremony at the Montgomery's house on the Battery. A far cry from Clarissa and Wade's grand affair. She did not care for herself, but she wanted more for Gillie. She wanted Gillie to enjoy her moment.

  Papa had been indulgent toward her since she agreed to marry Andrew. In so doing, when Jo insisted that she give Gillie a wardrobe for her wedding gift, her papa obliged by convincing Miss Haney to fit Gillie for her travels.

  What on earth was Mrs. Wilder doing in the back of the store snooping? Why the store had been closed when Gillie had been fitted! The nosy thing!

  “Who?” Jo asked. Lost in her thoughts, she had quite forgotten what the woman had asked.

  “Why that sweet thing, Clarissa! I don’t believe I saw her at service.”

  "Clarissa is feeling a bit under the weather, Mrs. Wilder. I am certain she will be able to attend the ceremony at week's end. I hope to see you and your family as well," Andrew's brow was harshly furrowed. "I thank you for your concern with my Jo. I can assure you it will be addressed."

  Mrs. Wilder clutched her bosom. "Thank the Good Lord you know now. I had been so worried. I knew you would want to know."

  Andrew waited until Mrs. Wilder walked away before he grasped hold of Jo’s elbow. She wanted to protest, but it was not the place to do so.

  Warily, she allowed Andrew to guide her to the
carriage. She wished that Grace Ann had not traveled to London with Mr. Whitney or that Charlotte hadn't gone to visit family in Camden. She felt so alone.

  Jo found Wade and his mother waiting patiently for them in the open carriage. She paused before accepting Wade's assistance up into the forward seat. He startled her when his blue eyes locked on hers with a frowning intensity.

  Wade Montgomery. The man who at one time she professed her love gave her a reproachful look. He had changed. Not his looks. He was still undeniably handsome, tall and lean with streaked blond hair and deep, blue eyes.

  No, it was his feelings that had altered. He hated her because he had lost the one thing he loved more than he did her—Magnolia Bluff.

  She smothered her growing misery, happy only that Papa was not beside her to endure the ire of her new family. He had looked so pale and tired this morning, she insisted he rest.

  It had been Papa who had stubbornly held to the promise he made his wife before her death. Ruthlessly determined, Papa had succeed in maneuvering Jo into becoming a lady accepted by Charleston society…mistress of Magnolia Bluff, but it came at a much higher price than what her papa imagined. Papa handed her over to a family that held little love for her.

  She wanted nothing more than to make them understand that as much as they hated Papa, if not for the marriage, they would lose everything…everything. Not by her Papa's hand, but by the actions of Douglas Montgomery, father, husband and son of those who now resented her intrusion into their household. Now, it would not happen because of her union with Andrew.

  Andrew settled himself beside her, but it was not her fiancé that irritated Jo. Wade had not taken his eyes from her.

  Wade drew a stiff smile. "I told you, Drew that you needed to talk with her."

  Jo had no need to ask the reason for his statement. It was obviously he knew exactly the topic of conversation with Mrs. Wilder. She was not quite sure how to react to Wade's hostility. Her chin tilted upward in defiance.

  In the far recesses of her mind, she could hear Grace Ann exclaiming, "Smile. Nothing like a bright smile to confuse your enemy. Charm the stars, Josephine. Charm the stars."

  Jo's lips curved upward. "I'm sure that you are over reacting to Mrs. Wilder. It was not…"

  "Your papa did not arrange a fitting for your girl in one of the most exclusive dress shops in the city? Once more, your dear papa gave no thought to the consequences of others when enacting his will."

  Stubbornly, Jo shook her head, rejecting his statement. "It is not fair to blame, Papa. It was my gift to Gillie. She is accompanying me to Philadelphia after the wedding but is leaving me afterward. She is to marry Heyward. He has found a house for them to live…"

  "I can assure you it means little to the good folks in Charleston what Gillie's plans are," Wade's voice was calm, but chiding. "You will soon be a Montgomery. You have an obligation to uphold our good name."

  Jo's face burned at his statement. An awkward silence ensued. Jo glanced at Andrew, who lowered his gaze.

  "Andrew!" Her voice rose higher than she intended. How could he sit there and let his brother reprimand her? "Are you going to let Wade talk to me in this manner?"

  "Jo, dear, Wade means only that perhaps you are too close to your girl," Marie Montgomery looked straight at her future daughter-in-law with sympathetic eyes. "Understandable. We all become close to our servants at one time or another, but there is a line we cannot cross. You are much too smart a young lady not to realize there can be ramifications."

  Flushed with frustration, Jo sat back. She was not willing to accept Wade's rudeness so readily. To let him treat her in this fashion was unacceptable. Strangely, at that moment, she felt Andrew reach over and grasp her hand in a reassuring way.

  As the carriage slowed to a stop in front of the house, Andrew gestured for her to stay by his side while his mother and Wade walked up the steps into the entrance.

  "I know you are upset with me," he said. "and with good reason. I have not been fair to you. I do not need to mince words to tell you I have met our engagement with the greatest reluctance."

  "I have felt it," Jo acknowledged, eyeing him curiously. His words seemed sincere, almost repentant.

  "These last few months, I have felt I was nothing more than a puppet being led around by my strings," he went on. "I realize, though, you too have been forced into this arrangement. I have treated you abominably even knowing you have made sacrifices."

  His last word hung in the air. He paused and swallowed hard. "Be patient. It will take time for my family to adjust. I do owe you an apology for not defending you with Wade. He had no right to address you so harshly. But…Wade is upset, not at you, but Clarissa."

  "Clarissa?"

  Andrew lowered his gaze and pressed his lips together tightly as if contemplating his next words. Looking back up at Jo, he said, "Clarissa has miscarried."

  * * * *

  The late afternoon threatened a summer thunderstorm. Showery with thunder rumbling, Jo walked back over to the Montgomery house along the Battery. She should have stayed home and read to Papa. Instead, she had braved the elements and came back to see Clarissa.

  The men had gone out for the afternoon while Mrs. Montgomery sat down in the parlor with her embroidery. Her future mother-in-law looked at her oddly when Jo announced her intent to visit Clarissa once more, but she made no objections.

  Before she had left earlier in the day, she had visited briefly with the ailing Clarissa. The poor thing hadn't said much but looked so peaked…and sad. The beautiful woman, who only the day before looked so vibrant, so full of life, now lay pale and listless in her bed.

  Propped up by pillows, one long dark braid fell over her shoulder as sunlight from the window filtered about her, giving her an aura, a heavenly radiance. Her face was pallid. Gone was the glow of her warm cheeks, the sparkle in her eye and it concerned Jo.

  She couldn't quite understand herself why she had returned to visit Clarissa. They had never been close. Perhaps, it was compassion for the loss Clarissa had endured. Jo didn't know, but something pulled Jo back here...something felt wrong, ever so wrong.

  It took effort for Jo to find the courage to walk up the stairs to Clarissa's room. Knocking lightly, Jo didn't wait for an answer, but gently opened the door. She wasn't going to disturb Clarissa, but leave her a vase of freshly cut gardenias with soft pink roses.

  Jo entered the lavish bedroom with its rosewood furniture, rose brocade draperies and large French Aubusson rug. The darkness from the storm had invaded the room, leaving it in shadows.

  She saw Clarissa's servant girl, Rosa, shut the window. Jo heard the patter of raindrops against the windowsill and the howl of the wind. The clouds had opened.

  The dark girl with aquiline features and crisply waving hair tied up in a kerchief gestured she would take the flowers.

  "Why them gardenias will soothe her."

  "It is what I hope, but I see she is sleeping. So I won't disturb her," Jo said softly. "She worried me after I left. I thought these might brighten the room a bit."

  "I am worried too, Miss Josephine," Rosa said in a low whisper. "She done gone and sent Master Wade away. Told him she just needed sleep. But I think she don't want him to know how poorly she feels. She won't let me send for the doctor neither."

  Glancing over at the sleeping woman, Jo nodded in understanding. Womanly ailments were not talked of in Charleston society. Frowned upon to be acknowledged. She could well imagine Clarissa would suffer before admitting her issues.

  Clarissa opened her eyes briefly and then closed them again upon seeing who it was. "Jo."

  Jo walked toward the weaken voice and sank down on the edge of the bed. Clarissa looked worse. Her closed eyes were sunken; her face whitened. She grasped in the open air until Jo caught her cold hand and held it gently.

  "I brought flowers for your room."

  "I can smell gardenias. I do so love them," Clarissa uttered in a whisper. "Oh, Jo, I'm so glad you came back. I d
on't want to be alone."

  "I will send for Wade."

  "No, no…," she broke down and wept. "He is already worried enough. I can't let him see me like this…Oh, Jo, I've lost the baby. Wade is going to be so upset with me. He was so happy…as was I. I could give him something to love…"

  "Clarissa, he already has you. He loves you. You will have other children."

  "Does he? Does he love me, Jo?"

  "Yes, Clarissa. He has been a bear all day because of his concern for you."

  After a pause, she drew a breath and whispered, "Don't leave me, Josephine. I am scared ever so scared."

  In the far recess of Jo's mind, the words echoed—I'm scared, ever so scared. She had heard them before, another time and place. The fear growing inside of her turned to panic.

  The image of her mother lying on her death bed swept before her. Remembrance of holding on to her cold…cold hands. How pale she looked as her life was ebbing out of her…

  Jo looked up to see Rosa on the other side of the bed. "Go get the doctor," Jo ordered. "And send for Master Wade."

  "But Miss Josephine. Mistress…"

  "Get him now!" Jo's voice rose in a sea of alarm.

  Suddenly, Clarissa clutched her stomach. Grimacing, she cried out.

  "I hurt. Oh, Jo, I hurt so."

  Jo wrapped her arms about Clarissa, as the poor woman's gripped Jo's arms tightly. Pain shot through Jo's arms, but she refused to move.

  "Don't leave me."

  "I won't," Jo promised. Suddenly, Jo felt warmth oozing around her. Looking down, she watched blood covered the sheets, spreading quickly. She screamed.

  * * * *

  The heavens cried and the rains came; a torrential downpour burst upon the funeral procession. It had slowed to a light drizzle, but Jo refused to leave the grave site. Not yet. She couldn't leave until she told Clarissa that she was sorry, so very sorry.

  Haunted by Clarissa's face, Jo remained by the grave site. The poor dear wanted nothing more than to live, but it was not meant to be. The miscarriage had caused bleeding that couldn't be stopped.