Southern Legacy: Completed Version Page 3

  The book she was reading now, The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of David Copperfield, lay where she had left it, on a table beside the oil lamp. The pages were well worn; it was the third time she had read it.

  The heavy mahogany desk with accompanying leather high back chairs filled the far corner. A large cream area rug covered the shiny wood floor; the walls held a wallpaper of a floral design of blue and brown flowers.

  She sat in her usual spot on the worn sofa in front of the jib windows. With the sun filtering onto her back, she would enjoy a book for hours without being disturbed. This was her escape away from the family. Today, though, she felt suffocated within the walls.

  Upon her return to the house, her guest, Lieutenant Cullen Smythe, had been shown into her grandfather’s office by Lucas, the house butler. Harry Lee stood outside the open door until Lieutenant Smythe entered. He followed and the door was shut.

  She expected to be called into the room at any moment, but moments became minutes and minutes into…oh, she didn’t know how long it had been. It felt like an eternity.

  Gillie had brought her refreshments and had hurriedly addressed Jo’s appearance. Her unruly hair had been pulled back off her oval face with a ribbon. She examined herself in the gold-plated mirror over the fireplace.

  Her face was still flushed from her earlier exertion; her eyes, swollen, but there was little she could do about them. In the privacy allotted within the confines of the library, she had succumbed to her emotions and wept. Wade had deserted her.

  How she loved him! It was not what it seemed… Oh, for Heaven’s sakes! Who was she trying to deceive? She had known he was forbidden. Like others before her, she surrendered to his charms. She had allowed him to convince her he would marry her…that he loved her.

  Wade was ever so handsome: his golden-brown brows straight and thick, heavily lashed blue eyes. His hair, soft and blond streaked with sun highlights, was kept short. Unlike the fashion of the day, he had a clean-shaven face, void of mustache or beard. He had only to smile at her to have her swoon at his feet! Oh, what a ninny I am!

  She had thought she was different, but she was no different than any other he had set his eyes upon. Her heart ached.

  “Miss Josephine, your grandfather is ready for you.”

  Jo dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and rose. She followed Lucas down the hall to the office door, which was ajar.

  “Come in,” her grandfather called to her.

  She went into the office. He gestured for her to sit in one of the high back chairs across from his mahogany desk. The room was filled with heavy, dark furniture. His desk was strewn with newspapers and letters; the rug was a gloomy wine color.

  “Do sit down, Josephine. Your aunt and I have been discussing this situation that has arisen. You must understand we are quite displeased.”

  A solemn look came into his eyes. She glanced over at her aunt, who sat tall in the chair next to hers. Jo was fully aware of a wave of apprehension within her. Instincts told her it was best to comply.

  Aunt Sybil, her mother’s sister, wore her usual black skirt and white lace collar and a cameo pin at her throat. She refused to come out of mourning even though her mother, Jo’s grandmother, had passed away over two years ago.

  Her hair, pulled back in a strict bun, was streaked with gray, though she had only turned forty-five last month. Her face conveyed a strong strength of will, the same strength of will that ran through Josephine’s blood.

  “I thought, Josephine, that you understood that I would not abide another scandal. When I took you into my household, I made that plain.”

  “Grandpa Henry, I assure you I have done nothing…”

  “Josephine,” Grandpa Henry said bluntly. “Randolph Wragg would not have appeared on my doorstep this morning without reason.”

  Josephine lowered her gaze. This had been her biggest fear before she had lost Wade…

  “Josephine, look up at me.”

  She looked back up at her grandfather. He had not changed over the years. Not overly tall and on the stout side, he walked with a noticeable limp. But his appearance had always been immaculate. He had a neatly groomed beard and finely combed hair.

  He eyed her with an intensity that told her the seriousness of her circumstance, tilted his head to one side and then the other. His lips pressed together tightly.

  “Grandpa Henry, Wade wanted to marry me.” She tried not for her voice to quiver…to show more courage than she felt.

  “You knew well beforehand he had already spoken for Miss Clarissa Wragg.”

  “He assured me that it was rumors.”

  “It was not,” Grandfather said.

  Jo sensed his stirring frustration. Her mother before her had disappointed him by running off and marrying one far beneath her while engaged to another. Her grandfather was a prideful man and not a forgiving one.

  Suddenly she could picture his anguish of being told her mother had eloped with the most distasteful man. His youngest…beloved daughter, had betrayed him by marrying a gambler! Oh, the shame! At least, it was what had been told by Miss Hazel.

  On her mother’s marriage to her father, Lucinda Buchanan had been disowned by her father. Never again would she see her family. Jo had seen her mother’s torment by being cut off from her family.

  Jo assumed it had been one of the reasons her father had brought her back to Charleston… her mother’s dying request. Her father had never been the indulgent sort toward her, but her mother had been a different matter. Her mother wished her daughter to be accepted by her family; her father had made it happen.

  Jo often wondered how her father had done so. Her grandfather had been steadfast in his refusal to see his daughter…even while she lay dying. Now she, too, had disappointed him.

  A lump in her throat grew as she confessed, “Grandpa Henry, I have not done anything to disgrace our name. I met with Wade only with Gillie by my side. He was a gentleman. If now his engagement is official, he would not make his presence known to me.”

  “But you did meet with him.”

  She wanted to say that she had done nothing wrong. She loved Wade, he loved her…but the words she wanted to utter didn’t emerge. So she said nothing.

  She watched Grandpa Henry and Aunt Sybil exchange looks. He frowned.

  “Josephine, there was a huge breach between your mother, Lucinda, and myself. I don’t want to have it repeated.”

  “I love my home, Grandpa Henry. Please do not throw me out.”

  A hush fell over the room. Aunt Sybil gave Jo a sympathetic eye. The petite woman sat with her delicate, aristocratic features and her finely shaped hands crossed in her lap. “No one wants to see you go, Josephine. There is a remedy.”

  “It will not come from Wade Montgomery…that is a certainty.”

  Josephine glanced over at her grandfather. He looked at her with a bleak expression. Oh, good Lord! They were going to marry her off!

  “I will inform your father. He had instructed me not to give my permission without his consent. Now, I do not think we can wait.”

  “Papa? Where is he? Can I not go to him?”

  The sudden sharp memory of his face swept back upon her. A tall figure of a man, he carried himself with airs of a position in life that had been denied him in Charleston. She thought her papa rather handsome with his dark sideburns and goatee.

  A gambler by trade, her father had a gallant manner that put most at ease, but behind his appearance was a man bent on getting his way. She had long realized that her father was a shrewd and, at times, ruthless businessman.

  That is what plagued her now. How could he have thought twenty-two hundred could have been dowry enough for a gentlemen of Charleston? With the scandal attached to her name, any respectable gentleman would demand quite a large sum…much more than twenty-two hundred. Her father was no fool…if it was his intent for her to marry into Charleston gentry.

  “The last letter I received stated he was
on his way back to Charleston. He was held up in New Orleans, but acknowledged he was traveling overland. He informed me to forward any letters to an address in Atlanta until further notice.”

  “To Aunt Cora’s?”

  Her grandfather’s translucent gray eyes narrowed. Immediately, she regretted her question. Grandpa Henry was already greatly troubled. She supposed she should have hidden her knowledge of her father’s special friend. Better yet, not to reveal the lady who traveled with her father and herself for years after her mother passed away…before she came to Charleston.

  She sat back in her chair. It would be best to remain silent at this point.

  “Of course, there is the younger brother, Andrew,” Aunt Sybil said.

  “I would never!” escaped Jo. “He hates me!”

  “Then that dreadful Yankee cousin…”

  Jo glanced furtively at her grandfather. He frowned.

  “Holt Miller has expressed an interest. He may be the best choice,” Grandpa Henry said. “But I will present it to your father. Perhaps it will not fester.”

  “It will fester, Father,” Aunt Sybil said pointedly. “I know the Wraggs. Tongues have already begun to wag. We need to react promptly.”

  Jo felt she couldn’t breathe properly. Holt Miller! Andrew Montgomery! She could never marry either. But neither could she cause a scandal. Relief flooded her when her grandfather dismissed her.

  She wasn’t thrown out, but her future looked bleak indeed.

  * * * *

  Josephine tossed and turned. No matter how hard she tried, her eyes would not open. Water. She felt water was rising around her. Fear gripped her.

  She had nowhere to turn. Desperately, she tried to find footing in the stone wall. The wind ripped against her. Thunder roared; a wave slammed her into the wall. Banging her head, she released her hold.

  She fell backwards and she splashed into the unmerciful tide. At her gulp, storm-ridden water filled her mouth. She fought against the current, but wave after wave pounded her body. Her head throbbed. A suffocating feeling overwhelmed her. She couldn’t breathe.

  Suddenly, strong arms grasped hold of her, carried her out of her nightmare…brought her back to life. Gasping, she opened her eyes. He stared at her with his dark, brooding eyes.

  “Josephine Buchanan Wright, what in the world are you still doing in bed!”

  Startled, Josephine bolted upward. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. Slowly, her room came back into focus. She was in her bed. Taking a deep breath, the scent of dried rose petals and lavender of her bed linens calmed her. She sank back onto her pillow.

  “Josephine, up!”

  Jo squinted her eyes at the noise calling to her. Good Gracious! It was Grace Ann. What had her grandfather gone and done? She took the edge of her cover and pulled it over her head. Immediately, a hand jerked the blanket back.

  “Don’t you think you can get away from me that easily! Now, get up! I have a lot of work to do here.” She paused and stared down at her cousin. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you haven’t slept in a month.”

  “I haven’t slept at all,” Jo retorted. She reached up and grabbed back her cover. “I had a dream…”

  “The one that haunted you for years? I thought it had stopped.” Grace Ann retreated a step to sweep the curtains back. The room filled with bright sunlight.

  “As did I,” Jo answered with her hands covering her eyes. “Grace Ann, please. I’ll get up. Give me a moment.”

  “It is almost nine o’clock.”

  Jo rubbed her eyes in an effort to hide from Grace Ann’s hawk eyes. She had no desire for Grace Ann to know the effect the dream had upon her. How vivid the remembrance. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Seeing Lieutenant Smythe brought back the memory. He had saved her then and he seemed intent on doing so now.

  Cullen Smythe scared her, never more so than yesterday when he appeared out of nowhere. Tall and intimidating in his Navy uniform, he looked much as he had seven years earlier. With her child’s eyes, he appeared as a knight in shining armor, having whisked her out of the ocean and certain death.

  Only then he had been angry, staring at her with those...those eyes. She shivered as she recalled being laid on the rain-soaked ground. Her head hurt. She could barely make out the others ranting around her.

  Not understanding the words, she understood the meaning. They were mad, furious…at her. It seemed they blamed her for the mishap. Being new to Charleston, she had little bearing of where she was or where she would head. She didn’t care.

  With their backs to her, she crawled to her feet and took off. Afterwards, she pondered her move. Being a tiny thing, she had little chance to outrun a grown man. She made it only to the edge of the Battery before he caught her.

  “Little one,” her rescuer said, exasperated. “I am in no mood to be racing around in the midst of a storm. I have already jumped over a wall and into the ocean. My clothes are drenched. My boots hold more water than you weigh. So do not try my patience.”

  Later, she comprehended Cullen thought her responsible of the accident. Harry Lee had blamed her, but it had not been her. It had been him…Harry Lee. Even now, the remembrance of his despicable act made her stomach churn.

  That day had started off with such promise. Her father drove her around the Battery after he had first taken her to Miss Hanney’s Fashionable Wears. Papa had bought her an assortment of garments she hadn’t an idea she had need of…drawers, petticoats, chemise, garibaldi blouses, walking dresses, a double shirt with a corselet, everyday dresses and her favorite, a zouave suit made up of a jacket over a dress with a full skirt.

  Up until that moment, it had only been the two of them, her father and herself—along with Miss Hazel, her mammy—after her momma passed away from a miscarriage. Jo had been there when it had happened. She would never forget Momma passing away in front of her eyes…she had been only seven.

  After her mother died, Jo had ventured with her daddy to many cities: New Orleans, New York, and London. She had been under no illusions. Her father hadn’t kept the fact he was a gambler, an extremely competent one, a secret. It was how he made his money. She never could remember wanting for anything. He rarely lost.

  “Do not listen to those who say I cheat. I do not. I am a gentleman. Honest and true,” Papa informed her as the two played cards as they traveled to Charleston. “Here, let me show you.”

  She had been truly amazed. On every hand, Daddy recited every card played and in order.

  “It is skill, my dear. I tell you, for I do not want you to be ashamed of what I do.”

  At the time, she hadn’t understood his meaning. Now, she had no doubt, especially when she heard others speak with such acrimony.

  “I won’t have it, Jo. Mr. Whitney and I were in Charleston preparing for a trip to Philadelphia until he got the note from Grandpa Henry. Then, Mr. Whitney canceled everything. Said we needed to lend a hand or my family’s name would be dragged through the mud.” She turned abruptly with hands on her hips. “Wade Montgomery…I swear, Jo! I thought you had better sense.”

  Jo scowled. She had no desire to talk of her situation, especially to Grace Ann. Her cousin would have never found herself in a situation such as hers. Grace Ann had tried in vain for years to mold Jo into a true Southern lady.

  Grace Ann was a woman who few would fail to notice. She had a rare pale beauty, ivory skin, golden hair, and fiery brown eyes. She carried herself with an elegance that couldn’t be taught. She had often teased Jo about her lack of poise.

  Less than a year older than Jo, Grace Ann had married Theodore Whitney eighteen months ago, a rich widower twice over. Jo often wondered why Grace Ann had chosen such an older man for her husband, when she had her choice of any beau in the county.

  She supposed that although an older gentleman, Theodore Whitney could offer the gregarious Grace Ann the life she craved. Undeniably rich, he owned plantations in north South Carolina into North Carolina.

  “
Tell me, Josephine, that you haven’t gone and got yourself in trouble.”

  “Grace Ann! Why, I would never!” Jo said crossly. She swung her legs off the bed. “Don’t even know why you are worried about me. Thought you would be basking in my disgrace.”

  “It would not only be your disgrace,” Grace Ann said.

  Though, Jo saw Grace Ann’s gaze brightened at the thought. Her cousin had never been good at concealing her feelings toward Jo.

  “You’re family. Mr. Whitney has made it clear we will not let you be shunned for something not in your control. We can’t have a Buchanan not received! Besides, everyone knows how Wade is.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Jo protested. “Wade is caught in a proposal not of his making…”

  “I’m sure he is.” Grace Ann laughed. “I can imagine it would take only one of his smiles with you. Ever the innocent.”

  “You don’t know Wade.” Indignation echoed in her voice. “He doesn’t love Clarissa. He loves me. He’s only marrying her because of Percival.”

  “It well may be, but he’s promised and good girls don’t associate with men who are taken. Especially men like Wade Montgomery. Don’t know what you have done to Wade, my little mousy cousin, but it has Clarissa Wragg all in a dither.”

  “You’re telling me that bothers you? As I recall, you can’t abide Clarissa Wragg.”

  “It’s not Clarissa I’m concerned with at the moment.”

  Jo looked at Grace Ann in surprise, who in turn gave Jo a pleasant smile. Immediately, understanding suffused through her. Family…the string that binds.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass the family. I will go visit Aunt Cora’s in Atlanta.”

  “That won’t ever do, Jo! Clarissa won’t be happy until your reputation is so terrible that no door will open for you. I heard it said she has told everyone how fast you act toward Wade. The rumor will erupt into scandal if you leave. It is what Mr. Whitney believes. As do I.”

  Jo wanted to ask why her husband was so concerned with her. In all the time she had known him, he barely paid any attention to her. The thought swept through her that the situation was worse than she had imagined. It was not only her broken heart that weighed heavily upon her.