Southern Legacy: Completed Version Page 42

  For a moment, he thought of denying it, but was acutely aware that his grandfather would not have made the accusation without proof. One of the servants probably saw him close the door when he was alone with Josephine and made the assumption. No matter. It would be a useless denial.

  “I did not abandon Josephine. Do I need to remind you that you tricked me into bringing Jo back to Charleston with that damn telegram? If not for that trickery, she would be safely in Philadelphia as my wife.”

  “Was it trickery? I thought it was her papa’s wish. She is a dutiful daughter…and wife.”

  Cullen realized that he should retreat and not respond. Instead, he blustered, “It sounds like there is something you want to tell me. What precisely is it?”

  “I’m telling you that you have come on a fool’s errand,” Clayton said in a strained voice. “I’m not the only one who realizes the possibility the child is yours. I have no doubt Wade does as well. He has overcome any qualms and claims the child. It is his, Cullen. He will give the child his name…that is, unless you insist on making your presence known.”

  “Where does that leave me?”

  “Not here. There is nothing for you here.”

  “This is my home.”

  “Not in that uniform!” Clayton banged his hand on his desk and leaped up. “It is you who has chosen to turn your back on your people.”

  “Alluding to what? That unless I agree blindly with your view, I cannot be considered a South Carolinian?” Cullen seethed.

  “It is treasonous for you to reenlist for the sole purpose to take arms against your people.”

  “But in your eyes, it is not treason to call for secession? We see things quite differently, Grandfather, because I do not see your loyalty but your greed to hold to slavery for your own prosperity. Would it not be braver to admit that it is time for a change?”

  “A true Southerner would never utter that trash!”

  Cullen met his grandfather’s angry eyes with his own. “It was you who raised me, Grandfather. I hold to the convictions that were instilled in me.”

  “Leave!” Clayton shouted. “You are no longer a Montgomery!”

  “Because I don’t accept that there is not another way besides secession?”

  “I will not dignify that with an answer. It is not the reason you came. Know, though, nothing you say or do will make her change her mind,” Clayton snapped spitefully. “I know Josephine well. She will never leave Wade.”

  “It must be hard playing God.” Cullen spoke with ill-concealed disgust.

  “You’re mistaken, Cullen. Sadly mistaken. It’s over and has ended the way it should have.”

  “So it does not matter whose child it is as long as your blood runs through it. You can sit on your throne and oversee your poor subjects. The way you see it, we are all your subjects, are we not?”

  “It matters only that Magnolia Bluff was saved and the heritage preserved.”

  “You conniving bastard! My child doesn’t need your damn plantation or your misguided concepts.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Cullen. It is a shame. I had hopes you could at least take that with you if you believe the child yours. For I can guarantee you will leave alone.”

  “Go to hell!” Infuriated, Cullen walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

  Cullen’s nerves wound tight as he waited upon the veranda. His mind ran rampant with a million thoughts. God, he wished he could turn back time! He would have never let his conscience interfere with his decision. He would have taken her without looking back…but it wasn’t his grandfather who haunted him—it was Josephine.

  She had appeared resigned to her fate and her eyes pleaded with him to do the same.

  His grandfather talked about duty and honor, but the only thing that kept Josephine within these walls was the ring around her finger. He had understood so well on that day. He had known what she would do, had to do, but with everything within him, he wanted another option.

  There had been none. Was there any satisfaction from the knowledge she married Wade only to save his life and Gillie’s? No, he thought miserably. He had failed her. The day he had left her, he had convinced himself that he could leave loving her…that they both would survive. Survive? Perhaps—or was it merely existing?

  Josephine clung to her damnable pride and honor. Her words echoed within his soul…she would never place her needs before the baby. His grandfather was right. She would never leave Wade…

  He breathed in deeply and took in the sight before him. He didn’t know when or if he would ever come back. God, he loved this place. He loved the sounds, the birds singing, the leaves rustling in the wind; he had even missed the slaves singing while they worked.

  The sun would set soon…a voice broke the stillness of the twilight. “Cullen.”

  He turned back to see Jenna. She gave him a tentative smile.

  “It’s over,” she said simply. “A boy. A strong, healthy boy. They both are fine. I thought…I thought you would want to know.”

  “Thank you.” He turned back to the view.

  Cullen took no notice of how long he stood alone on the veranda while darkness fell around him. Soon he would depart…alone. Mitchell would be returning with the boat at midnight. Cullen had only one thing more to be done.

  He took to the back stairwell and ascended to the nursery. He heard soft humming as he entered into the open door. The dim-lit room was warmed by a bright fire. The only other occupant rocked a small bundle, but halted when she caught sight of him in the doorway.

  “Good evening, Miss Hazel.”

  “Lieutenant Smythe,” she said in a soft voice. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I’m sure you were not,” he replied and made his way by the fire. “I have come to see my son.”

  Miss Hazel studied him carefully with her large telling eyes, neither anxious nor nervous by his presence. She seemed in control, too much so. She grated upon his nerves. Shaking her head, she began, “I believe ya are mistaken—”

  “Beg your pardon, ma’am, but I don’t give a damn what you believe.” Cullen held out his arms. “I’m not leaving until I hold my son.”

  She rose slowly with the infant, her reluctance evident. “Don’t like it. Don’t like it one bit, but ya was good to my Gillie,” she said. “Well, sit down. If ya gonna hold him, hold him right.”

  Cullen obeyed and she handed him the infant.

  “That’s right.” She held the little one’s head until Cullen had his hand underneath it. “Cradle his head like that.”

  The moment his eyes fixed on the infant, his heart swelled. Never had such intense emotions gripped him so quickly…so strongly. Bundled up tightly, the baby’s eyes were closed, but he squirmed and nuzzled against him. As he looked at the bald baby, he held no doubt it was his. He couldn’t say why or how…but he knew.

  With his free hand, he caressed the baby’s soft cheek. The baby reached up and gripped his finger. “My God, he is beautiful and strong.”

  “A big boy,” Miss Hazel agreed. “Miss Jo did a wonderful job. We were worried for a while, but she did it.”

  “She is well?”

  “She needs to rest, but she’ll recover nicely.”

  He nodded. “And the name?”

  “Percival, Miss Jo said. Percival Wright Montgomery.”

  “It is a good name,” he said solemnly. For a moment, silence descended on the room; the only thing heard was the crackling of the logs. Finally, he asked, “She is happy?”

  “Lieutenant Smythe, I don’t wanna hurt ya none. Honest, I don’t. I know I owe ya a debt of gratitude.” Miss Hazel sighed heavily. “She do seems content. Master Wade been good to her…real good. …Ya got it all wrong about the baby. Ya do. You shouldn’t think such a thing.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself? I know he is mine. No matter your words, my grandfather’s, Wade’s, even Josephine’s.”

  “You are right, Lieutenant Smythe, it ain’
t my place to say. But I know that Master Wade won’t be happy with ya here.”

  “I don’t think, Miss Hazel; I know he would not,” he agreed. “But we aren’t going to tell him, are we?”

  “You are leaving soon?”

  “I’m not going to cause any trouble now if that is what you are asking.” He looked up at her. “Remember this, though, Miss Hazel. I don’t like it, but I will never turn my back on my own child. If he has need of anything, send word to me in Philadelphia. If I’m not there, my father will receive it. If I have to live with this façade, I will do what I can to look after my own.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant.”

  Cullen glanced down. The baby was sound asleep in his arms. “If you don’t mind, I would like to stay here with him until I have to leave…alone.”

  He saw her hesitation…her worry that Wade would appear shortly. But he would be gone before such a time. He had no desire to cause Josephine more distress than he had already.

  Ever so slowly, Miss Hazel walked out of the room.

  THE WAR

  Chapter Eight

  Charleston

  An abrupt chill had descended on Magnolia Bluff. By late December, the last of the leaves had fallen and had left only the pines to give color against the cold, gray skies. For the last couple of years, the Montgomerys’ Christmases had been subdued.

  The veil had been lifted and the plantation celebrated. The whole of South Carolina was in a festive mood. The good people of Charleston had been jovial since the night that Percival was born…when it was announced that Lincoln had been elected president of the United States.

  Charleston pulsated with the rambling of secession and the declaration that South Carolina would make a stand. Lincoln declared that the Union would not be divided, but the fine people of South Carolina were not going to let no damn Yankee tell them what to do!

  The whole of the state sat in suspense, not as to the outcome which all declared would happen, but as to when. It came. On December 20, the ordinance was issued. By Christmas Eve, the legal proclamation was proclaimed. South Carolina had declared its independence from the United States of America. They had seceded from the Union and the people were ecstatic.

  The Montgomerys celebrated. The house burst into its full beauty with music and candle flames. Everyone was in a cheery mood: dancing, singing, proclaiming the virtues of South Carolina.

  The New Year would be brought in with the declaration of the shining bright future of a new world for all within South Carolina. All around her, Josephine heard the echo of the hubbub of voices emulating the fever-pitch tension of the day. It was a dazzling announcement of a new wave dawning upon the South.

  During the festivities, Grandfather Montgomery spoke openly about the plans for the state to form an army.

  “We will not be alone for long. News is filtering in that other states are set to follow our lead—Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Louisiana. We will have all the Southern states before the end of February. It is said that a convention will be convened in Montgomery to unify the South. No way them Yanks can stop us now!”

  Josephine had not met a soul who didn’t have their own idea about the conflict that surrounded them. She heard the proclamation that the Yanks were too scared to fight, but it was the assertion that if it came to it, there would be a war. It invoked fear into her heart.

  Fear that invaded her newfound happiness and she was happy since the birth of Percival, far happier than she had been in the last year. Through the grinding agony of childbirth, pure joy surged as the pain washed away the moment her son was handed to her. Instantly, her heart melted. Never had she known such love.

  There had been a short time when she had succumbed to tears shortly after Percival’s birth. The sadness of the loss of Gillie overcame her, and she broke down in sobs. Miss Hazel would have none of it.

  “Gillie would not wanca’ to grieve. You did everything ya could for her. She knew that, dearie. She did and ya know better than anyone that she would have loved your little one. You have to take care of yourself so ya can raise him proper. Ain’t asking ya to forget the precious girl, only choose to remember the good.”

  Jo prayed to God for Gillie’s soul. For so long, she had not prayed to God, fearing that God had condemned her for loving a man before her wedding night. God had punished her by forcing her to live with the knowledge of the lingering doubts of Percival’s parentage. But she held no doubt that God would care for her Gillie. Never had a sweeter woman walked this earth.

  With every day that passed, she focused her attention on her son, promising herself she would never forget Gillie, but it wasn’t only the loss of Gillie that bothered her.

  Cullen’s appearance that day had become a silent wedge between Wade and herself. He had made no mention of Cullen’s unexpected visit or any consequences it may have caused. Nor had she revealed her knowledge of Gillie or asked him why he hadn’t told her. Was it her own guilt that lay between them? Did he regret his confidence in declaring Percival his child?

  Despite the worries on her heart, her sorrows were eclipsed by young Percival. He was adorable. He had lost his baby hair and had become quite bald. A happy, chubby little thing with rolls of fat upon his little legs, his large blue eyes seemed to be darkening. He had a way to make her forget everything but his soft coos when she cradled him lovingly in her arms.

  Wade had been the epitome of a devoted husband and father. He had declared Percival the most perfect of babies and professed Jo looked splendid in coming through her confinement.

  He had given her the most beautiful of charms as a gift for presenting him with a fine son. Moreover, he surprised her with a lovely emerald necklace for Christmas, quite extravagant.

  She, in turn, had given Wade an engraved wedding ring with the date of their marriage and her initials. Since they had married, he had not worn one. The rush of the wedding had not allowed her time to choose a ring for her husband. Although not as lavish as his gifts, it had come from her heart and commitment to their marriage.

  Sincerely touched by her sentiment, he vowed to her, “I will never take it off. It will connect us forever.”

  With that declaration, Josephine settled into her role as his wife and the mother of his child. Pushing the past behind her, she found a semblance of contentment.

  The New Year began with the outward manifestations of celebrating South Carolina’s independence with lavish parties and grand balls. Confidence exuded from the occupants of Charleston so much so that young and old were captivated by the excitement.

  Change was in the air. No longer could Josephine ignore the inevitable. The papers were filled with rapidly developing news. The last being the Virginia legislature leaving a peace conference feeling insulted.

  The whole family had returned to Charleston by the end of January. The Battery was crowded with parades of marching soldiers. The streets swarmed with people, who had flocked to the city in anticipation of the call running rampant within the state—war. Charleston was as tight as a dress ready to explode at the seams.

  Josephine descended from her carriage alongside of Grace Ann, who had accompanied her to Miss Haney’s shop. With all of the galas to attend, Wade had insisted she get a new wardrobe.

  The attentive auntie, Grace Ann had become a most welcome fixture within the Montgomery household. Jo swore that Percival’s eyes lit up the moment Grace Ann walked into the room.

  “I swear he is the most beautiful baby Charleston has ever seen. That’s what I told Mr. Whitney and he agreed,” Grace Ann declared. “Why, I saw the most perfect pony the other day when Mr. Whitney and I attended the races. I told Mr. Whitney that we must buy it for Percy.”

  “Grace Ann, he is not even five months old.”

  “I can just tell he is going to be a fine horseman. Like his daddy is. It’s in his blood.”

  Jo could not argue the point. Carolinians had great skill on horseback. Even in this state, Wade was renowned for his horsemanship and had
been recruited by a friend of the family, Wade Hampton, to join a cavalry troop Hampton was organizing.

  Hampton was a shrewd man by reputation. Grandfather Montgomery seemed to take great pride in Hampton’s enlistment of his grandson. In preparation for the anticipated war, the unit had begun drilling.

  Jo cast her eyes toward a dark, gray sky. A storm was gathering. Grateful it had not burst upon her while shopping, she scurried into the house. Her breasts ached. She had been gone too long from her son.

  She slipped off her gloves; Olfus took them at the door. “You have a visitor, Mistress Montgomery. It’s Dr. Montgomery’s wife. Master Wade left explicit instructions for her not to be allowed entrance, but, ma’am…she insisted. She’s in the parlor.”

  “It is all right, Olfus. I will see to her needs. Will you have tea brought in?”

  As she exchanged glances with Grace Ann, Jo wondered when Kathleen returned to Charleston. She had developed a terrible reputation in the city after her dealings with Arthur had become common knowledge. Wade had not discussed Kathleen’s departure in detail with Jo, but Jo realized the separation from Andrew was not amicable.

  At the time, it had been the least of her concerns. She wondered what Kathleen hoped to accomplish. With Wade out for the day, Jo admitted she was glad to have Grace Ann by her side. Kathleen had a haughty arrogance that displayed itself when the woman was in ill humor.

  The good people of Charleston were renowned for their hospitality. Most were good, kindly people, generous to a fault but they were also a stubborn lot. The rumor of Kathleen’s improper relationship with Arthur, which had been whispered behind fans, had become a topic openly discussed. A black cloud hung over Andrew.

  Once a lady was in disgrace, it was hard to find their forgiveness, especially when the one shunned expressed no remorse for their transgression. Homes began not receiving her.

  To make matters worse, it was whispered Kathleen had facilitated a duel…and not involving her husband, but between not one, but two alleged lovers. One had been Arthur. He had been shot dead.