Southern Legacy: Completed Version Page 34

  “Not going to happen.” Clayton’s answer was sharp and direct. “You have made sure of that. Cullen’s gone.”

  The words cut through Wade and pierced his soul. He lowered his eyes and studied the floor, as if contemplating his next move. Slowly, he met his grandfather’s gaze. “All I have ever done, I have done to save Magnolia Bluff.”

  With his cigar in one hand, Clayton pointed at Wade with the other and laughed. “Ain’t gonna argue with you, boy. It was good to know that you are more like me than I thought.”

  “A chip off the old block,” Wade answered with gruff sarcasm. “God help me.”

  Clayton shook his head and waved his hand. “What’s wrong with you? You got what you wanted…all that you wanted.”

  “Maybe…maybe it’s how I got it. What I have had to do and knowing I wouldn’t have had to do a damn thing if you hadn’t interfered to begin with,” Wade stated with a sudden flare of temper. “If you had left well enough alone, I would have been married to Jo before Cullen got involved. All this could have been avoided if you hadn’t tried to outsmart Wright!” His voice rose higher. Suddenly, he threw his empty glass into the fireplace. It shattered into a million pieces. “I wouldn’t have had to mislead Cullen!”

  The old man walked back around his desk and sat. “It was a hard call and you made it.” He took a puff of his cigar. “Can’t look back, now. It was the right thing to do.”

  “It could have gotten Jo hurt or worse!” Wade took a deep breath and regained a portion of his composure. Guilt…it was the guilt that gnawed at him.

  “No way you could have seen that son of a bitch, Harry Lee, returning like he did,” Clayton said. “You didn’t do anything Cullen wouldn’t have done himself.”

  “No, you’re wrong. Cullen would never have done what I did to him.” Wade shook his head. Lord! His head pounded. “Cullen…he was closer to me than Percival. He trusted me.”

  “You did what you had to.”

  “I did what I had to get Magnolia Bluff, no matter the cost.” Wade broke his gaze from his grandfather and stared hard at the fireplace. “Lord Almighty! You know I almost helped him sneak Jo out of the state. He came to me right before Heyward appeared. I would have helped him then. Even after all I had done to get her back to Charleston…but it changed when he went to save Gillie…ever the hero.”

  “In whose eyes?” Clayton snarled. “A fool in mine. Never took him as one, but not only could he have lost his life, he could have cost the family dearly for that act. Lest I remind you, it was you who saved him. Going to save some Negro! The boy has lost his mind!”

  “He was going after Harry Lee,” Wade replied in defense of Cullen. “Harry Lee was bent on revenge—”

  “For God’s sake! Cullen armed blackies. There is no defense.”

  “I helped him, Grandfather. We have armed trusted slaves before—”

  “To defend ourselves…not to free a slave of a white man!”

  “You and I both know that Gillie was a freed woman. He had no right to her—”

  “In the eyes of our neighbors, neither did Cullen,” Clayton shot back. “Only you did after you married Josephine.”

  Wade forced a laugh. “Because then Gillie was considered my property! Do you not know how absurd that sounds? Is there any wonder the Yankees consider us barbarians?”

  “Hold your tongue! No loyal Southerner would utter such blasphemy!” Clayton’s manner turned cantankerous. “Montgomerys don’t speak against our own.”

  “Maybe someone should!”

  The room stilled as if all the air had been sucked out of it. Clayton sat his glass down and leaned forward. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, son. What’s eating at you?”

  Wade stopped short of saying the truth. What weighed on his soul—guilt on tricking Cullen and in the same breath anger at his cousin for making love to his wife…his wife! No gentleman, no matter the circumstance, should ever leave a woman in a compromising position. Never!

  But, if the truth be known, he was angrier at himself because he loved Jo. Had always loved her, even when he was married to Clarissa and Jo loved Cullen! For heaven’s sake, she only married him to save her lover. Now, he had everything he desired except her love. No, Wade could never admit that to his grandfather.

  Clayton studied his grandson. “You have done what you had to do. Don’t you know I understood well why you sent that telegram pretending to be Wright? It was the reason I gladly took the blame for it.”

  Wade made no response. He had no defense for sending that telegram pretending to be Brantley Wright…asking Jo to come to home to marry Cullen, wanting only to ensure she was safe and happy. It had been a cruel trick.

  He had no excuse. Jealousy had overridden his good sense…he wanted Josephine…he wanted Magnolia Bluff. He had been desperate, knowing that Josephine was with Cullen. He had no doubt Cullen would not wait to marry Jo after Andrew’s fiasco. He had to do something and quickly.

  His stupid…stupid brother! Andrew should have told him. He could have convinced Jo to stay... had he known…had he not feared losing Magnolia Bluff.

  But he would have never intentionally put Jo in harm’s way. He had not taken in account Henry Buchanan’s attempt to reclaim Jo’s guardianship. It had almost cost Jo her life. He would have never forgiven himself if anything had happened to her.

  “The good Lord leads us down the path we are to take,” Clayton went on. “Anyone with any common sense knows she will be happier with you than up North. She is a highly principled and resilient young woman. This is her people.”

  Wade looked back at his grandfather. There it was…that arrogance. He sneered. “You didn’t think that about Jo a year ago.”

  “It takes a real man to admit he was wrong.” Clayton took a puff of his cigar and released the smoke over his head. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have tried to outmaneuver Wright. He just got under my craw. I knew his ma and pa up in Camden. They were nothing more than poor white trash. And him wanting to marry his daughter to a member of my family! My family!”

  “Her mother was a Buchanan.”

  “Made no difference to me,” Clayton went on. “It was her daddy who riled up my bad side. His highfalutin ways. Took advantage of my boy. Then Wright caused me to make mistakes and compound them by making more. But it was you, Wade—you have restored Magnolia Bluff to the Montgomerys and upheld our legacy. You’ve done the Montgomery name proud.”

  Wade said nothing for a long moment and considered the words of praise. He shook his head and walked toward the door. “I’m going back up to Magnolia Bluff after I hear from Morgan. When I return, tell Andrew I want that woman out of my house.”

  Chapter Three

  Outside, erratic gusts of wind rustled the branches of the old oaks. Josephine woke, not from the noise, but from the nightmare that plagued her. Her eyes widened as she stared into the darkness that surrounded her. A sudden realization swept through her that there was no nightmare; she was living in her own special hell.

  A strange chill stabbed at her heart. She shivered with the understanding that nothing would ever be the same. Her papa was dead, Cullen was gone, and Gillie was terribly hurt… Although no one had confirmed her suspicions, Jo knew Harry Lee and the harm he would not have hesitated to inflict upon her dear Gillie.

  Self-pity surged through her. Cullen should have never attempted to save her after Andrew’s betrayal. It would have been best for everyone involved. Then, she would have never known what it was like to feel for another as she did for him: to be swept up in the glory of their ardor and then to have her beating heart ripped from her body.

  Gillie…poor, sweet Gillie…suffered because of her! Guilt overwhelmed Jo; guilt few would understand. Jo well knew the whispers behind her back about Gillie. No self-respecting white folk gave one of their servants…a darky…the dignity and respect that Jo had given Gillie. It was unheard of, but she could never explain their connection to anyone.

  Society may have shake
n their heads at her for her treatment of her servant, but what would they have done if she declared she loved Gillie as a sister? Rebuked, no doubt. How could they have ever understood that for a time it had only been Gillie and herself?

  Jo had had no one else. She had been the poor relation and had endured the lowly looks of those who thought themselves better than she because of their birth. Now, the forces against them had intervened and kept them apart when Gillie needed her the most.

  Trapped in a web of honor and duty, Jo surmised there would be no happy ending for her. Cullen had left without a word. Why could he not have come to her? Maybe then she could have coped with the loss.

  A wave of hurt so great enveloped her. Why…why hadn’t he swept her away when they had a chance? Leaving her here, he had accepted what she would have to do…expected her to do. Oh, what was to become of me now!

  She was a married woman, not to Andrew, the man she had been promised, or Cullen, the man who she loved beyond her own life. No, she had married Wade to save the ones she loved: one she loved beyond measure and the other, a kindred soul.

  There would be no sleep.

  Jo lay in her bed and watched the lightening of the sky. Another morning dawned. She looked over at her mourning weeds laid out for her to wear. Rosa had brought them from Charleston when she arrived at Magnolia Bluff two days ago.

  Left on the plantation with no other family, she had tasks to perform. It would be expected. The mistress of a plantation’s lot was not an easy one. Her responsibilities were never-ending. It was ironic. Only a short time ago, she had been a sought-after heiress with no thought of the drudgery of everyday life as a married lady.

  That life ended and a new one had begun. She would no longer be courted in any fashion. Wade had what he wanted. She would only serve as a reminder of what was.

  This was a man’s world. Jo would do as he bid. Had she not been reared as a lady? She slid out of bed, donned her clothes and prepared to face the day.

  * * * *

  The sun had set long before the wheels of the buckboard ground sharply over the gravel road as it headed to the main house. From the drawing room window, Wade watched the wagon stop at the front steps.

  A moment later, he heard the door open and close. He walked out to the foyer to greet his wife’s return. “Good evening, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  From the expression on her face, he had startled her. Rightly so. He had not sent word of his intent to return tonight.

  Untying her bonnet with the dark crepe veil, Jo pulled it off along with her black gloves and placed them on the foyer table. She was suitably dressed for mourning her papa in a black dress with a dark floral lace collar. When she looked up at him, she wore a somber, tired expression.

  He moved closer and inhaled her fragrance, the light scent of a lavender sachet. For so long, every time he had caught a whiff of lavender he had thought of her.

  “Wade. I…I wasn’t expecting you,” Jo stammered. “I would have had Millie prepare a dinner.”

  “Dinner was an hour ago.”

  She gave a small shrug. “Then you are set. Now, if you will pardon me, I will retire for the night.”

  Annoyed with her dismissal, he said coldly, “Pray, join me in the parlor. We need to talk.”

  Jo advanced toward the stairs, but paused. Glancing over her shoulder, she said stiffly, “I don’t believe we have anything else to say that wasn’t said the other night when you left me here alone.”

  “I had matters to attend to in Charleston,” he said curtly. “Of which, you were fully aware. I came to relieve your worries. Surely, it will ease your mind to know that there will be no retaliation from your family.”

  “Is that all? You could have simply sent a note.”

  “What? You do not care for the details of the agreement?”

  “No,” she said simply, but clearly. Jo met his glare with her own.

  He stared long and hard at her. She was aggravated, but so was he. His patience had worn thin. “Where have you been?”

  “Cora Randolph called on me this morning. Old Miss Heddy is laid up. Fell and broke her leg. I went to visit and brought her a basket.”

  “Cordial of you, but I don’t think that Barclay would have greeted me in the manner he did on my arrival if you had just went calling on a neighbor.”

  “Why on earth would the overseer…?” Her voice trailed off as if suddenly she comprehended. Her expression cleared. “He has a problem with my having Amos see to Miss Hazel’s place while she is gone.”

  “You should have come to me.”

  Jo shot him an angry look. “Perhaps I would have if you had been here…if anyone had been here.”

  “Barclay runs the plantation.”

  “You are to tell me I have no say?” Her chest heaved; her eyes flared. “But of course! I should know my place.”

  “You are mistress of the house. You are well aware of the expectations.”

  “Of being a Montgomery?” Jo took a couple of steps up the stairs and then abruptly pivoted around. Her eyes narrowed. She said with ominous calm, “Behaving like you and yours? Celebrating your good fortune! I heard how you Montgomerys are living it up in Charleston— welcoming Andrew’s bride with open arms. So tell me again about your expectations of me. How I cannot even request help for my old mammy?”

  “Where did you hear such nonsense?”

  “Cora.” Her eyes blazed with anger directed at him. “Cora said while I am here mourning my papa’s death, the rest of you Montgomerys are enjoying yourselves with your newfound fortune. That is what is being said.” Her voice was sharp and true. “I know…I know that I am not the woman you thought, but I did not deserve this. Go back to Charleston. Celebrate your victory. I don’t want you here.”

  Taken aback by her claim, Wade had no defense. He made no effort to stop her as she rushed up the stairs without even a glance backward.

  * * * *

  Josephine had taken a long warm bath to ease her anger and...oh…she was angry. How dare he question my behavior! What of his? What of the Montgomerys? A sudden wave of despair swept through her. By heavens, what am I going to do? She didn’t know much at the moment, but she knew she couldn’t stay—no matter what her papa wanted. He had been wrong, ever so wrong.

  After her visit with Miss Heddy, she had ferociously labored most of the afternoon at Miss Hazel’s home and expelled most of her ire cleaning and caring for the farm. Miss Hazel would have never forgiven her if something happened to her home. Jo thought miserably she should have stayed at the cabin.

  Rosa had brought up a tray for her supper, but it remained untouched. She had no appetite. A knot pitted in her stomach. She needed time alone to contemplate her next move.

  Having dismissed Rosa for the night, she stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. How long she sat, she hadn’t a clue. Lost in her thoughts, time had no meaning.

  The last year, she had endured the desolation of contemplating failing Papa and facing the wrath of Charleston society. Her every action had been designed to uphold the façade that she was a part of that world. How useless it had been! All of it had been for naught.

  In the distance, she heard a noise grow closer…uneven footsteps came up the hall and halted at her room. To her dismay, she heard a key turn. Oh, good Lord! He had a key to her room!

  She had no chance to barricade the entrance, but she tried. As she bolted upward, she raced across the room and had barely gripped the handle when the door jerked open. Stumbling backward, she watched her husband enter.

  His hair was tousled. Heaven knew where his waistcoat was, but his shirt hung loose over his breeches. Wade leaned casually against the doorway with a decanter under his arm and a half-filled glass of brandy in his hand. The fact that the other half seemed to have been spilled over his shirt did not seem to disturb him.

  His blue eyes caught hers and then moved unabashedly over the full length of her body. Her dark, shiny hair fell loose down below her waist, having be
en washed and left down to dry. His eyes lingered upon her high, full breasts.

  Her cheeks warmed under his gaze. She wore a practical dressing gown, but it was light, sheer and revealing. She immediately regretted not wearing her wrap, which lay across the bed, but she had not expected his company.

  Straightening himself out to full height, he maneuvered into the room and slammed the door behind him with his foot.

  “You’re drunk.” Her voice carried a sharp tone of rebuke.

  “Not quite, my love, but I’m getting there. Would you care to join me?” He raised his glass and sipped slowly as he eyed her from over the glass.

  “Get out!” she demanded and pointed at the door. “You have come to the wrong room.”

  “On the contrary, madam,” he replied in a long drawl. “I am exactly where I want to be. You refused to talk to me…and I refuse for you not to.” Wade drank down the liquor and then pounded the glass down roughly on a nearby bureau, along with the decanter. He turned to her and stared, once more scrutinizing her.

  She stared at him and shook her head in disgust. “You’ve gone and lost all your good sense.”

  “I believe I passed reason on my last bottle.” He laughed, seemingly quite amused. But something beneath the mask he wore told her otherwise. “I’m working up to atonement.”

  “You need forgiveness?”

  “More than you know.” Wade flung up his hand derisively. “But not for the idle gossip you repeated. Do you not know me better than that? At one time, you professed love for me. Do you believe I’m capable of doing such a thing to you?”

  Indignation overwhelmed her. “Remind me of that love, Wade. For what I remember is betrayal. You lied to me then, as you are lying to me now. I will not play the fool any longer. Your one desire has always been Magnolia Bluff. You have it. Now, let me go.”

  “Go?” he questioned with a sudden soberness. “Have you forgotten you are my wife?”

  “It does not have to be. The marriage can be annulled and declared void. You can have Magnolia Bluff. I want nothing of it.”