Southern Legacy: Completed Version Page 9

“They will see nothing of the kind,” he assured her. He whirled her through the door and into the foyer. “If they want something to talk of, they can talk of us. Come.”

  He took her hand and pulled it through his cocked arm. At the far end of the foyer was their escape; the door was opened to the rear of the veranda.

  A full moon shone down on the pair. Cullen had only taken time for Jo to clean the spot on her gown. One of the house girls brought out a cloth and a bowl of water. It wasn’t as bad as it seemed in the ballroom. Most of the punch had missed its intended target, but it would assuredly leave a stain.

  He didn’t care. Once they were married, he would buy her a hundred gowns if she wished.

  “It will dry,” he stated. “Let us take a stroll.”

  She made no objection, allowing him to take a discreet path that ran between the giant live oaks and the formal garden to the river’s edge. A sultry breeze flowed along the water; gray beards of Spanish moss stirred on the trees. He caught a scent of crab apples and roses.

  Behind them, the sound of the party dimmed. Instead, sounds of frogs and crickets made their own melody. She broke from him and sauntered over to a clearing under one of the large trees.

  She silently stared out into the nothingness. He walked up behind her. “Plotting your escape?”

  She shook her head, but made no movement to look back at him. “I fear there is none. You should have let me leave to find Papa. How could being shunned be worse than this…pretending to be something I’m not?”

  “I thought we had this matter settled, Josephine,” he said. “It is becoming most bothersome.”

  She turned and stared at him. “Why do you persist? Do you not know I have been told you have been released of your obligation?”

  He reached for her. She pushed back. “Don’t,” she cried. “I can’t take this…I can’t pretend anymore. It would have been best if you had let me run.”

  “Listen, Josephine, I have not withdrawn my offer…nor do I intend to do so.”

  “Don’t do this to me, Lieutenant. I am tired of being a pawn where I don’t understand the rules of the game.” She clutched her hand to her chest. “I can’t smile another minute when all I want is the earth to open and swallow me. I have tried to do as they wanted…it is my fault for believing Wade…I accepted my punishment…but this is cruel,” she rambled, not knowing—not caring—whether her utterances made sense. “I am to laugh and smile…not to let any see my heartbreak…and still they whisper.”

  “Is it…is your heart broken?” He put his hand firmly about her waist, pulled her to him. He remembered the defiant young girl drenched in the pouring rain. Those eyes…those eyes stared into his. He saw the scared little girl he had pulled from the water.

  She hesitated. “What do you want me to say?” Her voice quivered. “My world has collapsed around me. I have disgraced my family…now I have to pay the price. I am no fool. I was invited here tonight to be paraded around to be ridiculed.”

  She reached down and touched his hands in a vain effort to release his hold. He had no intention of letting her go.

  “You knew what was expected before you arrived. You have performed admirably. Don’t come at me now and tell me you have lost courage.”

  “Let me go!” she cried. “I came only to save my family’s face. My family does not deserve to be humiliated…”

  “It is not the only reason.”

  Her eyes suddenly flamed and body tensed. “Why do you do this? Provoke me to no end.”

  He smiled, a mocking smile for no other reason than her anger made her eyes come alive. It inflamed her further.

  She went on, “Perhaps it is more…perhaps I wanted to lash out at Wade…to hurt him as he hurt me. I wanted him to see that I do not need him…”

  “You have seen Wade,” he said not as a question, but a statement. “Your temper has been aroused. You are no longer subdued when you talk of him.”

  “He came after I returned home yesterday.” She lowered her gaze. “He told me I should accept what we had is over and move forward. It will be for the best for both of us. It was he...it was he who asked Taz to offer for me. He told me he is looking after my best interest...to soothe his conscience.”

  Her voice was laced with thick sarcasm. The news irritated him...more so even than it obviously had Josephine.

  “He is ever the gentleman,” Cullen said stiffly.

  “Is it not you also he is looking after? To save you from marrying me...to keep you from being indebted to him for life?”

  He chuckled. His playful mood returned; his eye cocked upward in amusement. “Don’t hold it against me if I don’t give Wade’s opinion much credence. You need to understand before...”

  “Before…I’m married off, Lieutenant Smythe.”

  “Cullen.”

  “Cullen,” she repeated. Her eyes softened, but carried a worried look. “It won’t be to you. You have to know that. I do not hold to Wade’s wants, but I won’t go against my family. I have hurt them too much already. They have protected me…”

  “It is what a family does,” Cullen acknowledged. “But they have no need to protect you from me.”

  “I have told you that other plans are in place. Taz Foster will make a good match. He comes from a good family and he is a friend. He knows of my dowry…he said…he said that it would be enough to add another wing to his school. He seemed quite happy with the thought…only…”

  “Only what?” he pressed. Not waiting for her to answer, he said, “Only he cannot make you feel what I do. What you felt when we kissed…like this.”

  He felt her change within his grip. She looked up at him; her red lips trembled. His lips met hers with his overwhelming desire unleashed. Forgetting everything but her, he embraced her, unrestrained of the boundaries between them. Beyond lures and subtlety, he took her mouth hard, releasing a hunger that had built within him. Her hands pressed against his chest but not in resistance.

  His arms rounded her tighter, pulled her instinctively to his body. Her body melted into his as his lips took hers hungrily. A gasp of pleasure escaped her lips and rid him of any restraint. He ravished her with his kisses.

  She wanted him as he wanted her. She closed her eyes as he pressed fervent kisses down her ivory neck to the swell of her breasts. The urge within him to have her completely drove him…compelled him to claim what he desired…and he desired her worse than he had ever wanted a woman.

  In the distance, sounds emerged; they both were reluctantly brought back to reality. He drew back and gazed into her eyes.

  “I have to go. I hear Grace Ann,” she said. “Oh…but…Cullen...”

  “Ssh, my sweet magnolia.” He placed his finger over her lips. “I want you to know that a marriage to me won’t be so bad. I know…I know it has not been easy these last couple of weeks, but tell me that you don’t feel something between us.”

  “What do you want me to say…I’m so confused…I can’t do this…”

  She stumbled backwards, her eyes fixated on his. Abruptly, she turned and ran down the lane. He displayed no astonishment, but he followed. He watched her talk with her cousin, who waited at the end of the path.

  Grace Ann wrapped a shawl around Josephine’s shoulders. Cullen’s brows came together in a harsh scowl. His ire grew as he watched Josephine ushered back into the main house and disappear from sight. Lord! Now what was his next move?

  Honor and duty drove him to offer for her…to accept her grandfather’s decision to call upon her until Brantley Wright made an appearance or a letter came to dictate his wishes. It would not come to that, Cullen realized.

  Despite the shame that had befallen Josephine, her family had swooped down and shielded her from the fate bestowed upon one who would have to marry one of those damn Yankees. First the despicable Holt Miller, then this Taz Foster…why then could he not walk away?

  “Lieutenant Smythe, I wish to have a word with you.”

  Cullen hadn’t noticed Wade had
joined him. He expected Wade to be enjoying the festivities alongside his bride. Moreover, his cousin seemed outraged…mad as an old banty rooster and…drunk.

  “What’s the matter? Why are you not inside?”

  “Matter? You asked that after that display…dancing with Jo in the manner you did…defending her…drawing more whispers with your exit. The question becomes why do so? Your obligation has been lifted. You could have simply walked away…”

  Without warning, Wade pivoted around and swung his right fist into Cullen’s jaw. Cullen staggered backwards and held his hand up to his chin in disbelief.

  “Christ! Wade, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  Wade lunged again; Cullen spun in response. He shifted and caught Wade by the collar. He swung his fist back…but halted. Instead, he jerked Wade up to his feet. He got in his face.

  “You bastard! You are angry with me for upholding your indiscretion…your indiscretion!”

  Wade pushed Cullen back. Incensed, he lashed out, “I asked you only to tell her…to tell her I had to marry Clarissa…I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t ask you to offer for her…I begged you to offer for Clarissa…”

  “Go back into the party, Wade, before you do something you will regret in the morning.”

  Wade stumbled and almost fell. He caught himself, holding his head as his dulled and confused senses tried to grasp his actions. He glared at Cullen; color suffused his face.

  Cullen moved to offer help, but he halted when he saw Heyward. Heyward met Cullen’s eyes as he slipped his arm around his master’s shoulder. The tall, dignified black gestured he would care for his master.

  Cullen didn’t attempt to speak to Wade. It would do no good. There was no reasoning with a drunken soul. He turned and walked back to the house. His shadow swayed in the moonlight as he mounted the steps up to the veranda.

  The compassion and pity he felt for his cousin faded, replaced with a despairing impatience. He was at the point he didn’t care whether Wade knew it or not.

  * * * *

  Nightmarish as the night had become, Wade had forgotten he had his bride waiting for him. Heyward reminded him as he walked him back into the house. The thought sobered him quickly.

  He had been raised in a culture of expectations. To walk away from Josephine, he had to draw from his strength of character. He had been foolish to have ever courted her in the manner he had done.

  True, he had shown her only adoration. He had not crossed the line until last night. But he should have never gone to her...no, he reprimanded himself, he should never have allowed Cullen to have gone for him with what was his to tell her. But the question remained: would he have been able to walk away from the one thing he truly loved...

  Last night, he had wanted nothing but to have taken her in the moonlight...to make her his...even if he could never give to her his name. What a fraud he was! Behind his impeccable manners...his charm...laid a person who wanted nothing more than to have forsaken all of it if she had allowed.

  Jealousy ripped through him when he saw her with Cullen. The way she looked at him and he her, gnawed at his heart to the point his anger grabbed hold of his good sense. How thankful he was to Heyward. At least, he had not made a fool of himself in front of the guests...or Clarissa...his wife.

  Heyward had found him a quiet spot to sit and compose himself before he made his way up to his room...their room. Wade rose. He had delayed long enough. She would be waiting for him.

  As he walked up the staircase, he thought of the woman he married. Clarissa had loved Percival. While in the Navy, he remembered the letters that his brother sent him about her. Now, he feared he was a disappointment to his new bride compared to Percival.

  Clarissa would make a fine wife. Such a lovely lady, exquisitely so, but he also ascertained she had another side...the one that lashed out at Josephine, set to destroy the woman who stood between her and the man who was now her husband.

  With each step, he came to the realization that the two were a great deal alike. Duty and honor bound them together. Each would have rather had another, but were fated to be one.

  He turned the handle of the door, and he entered into a dark room. The lamps had been extinguished.

  “Wade? Is that you?” a tiny voice asked.

  “But of course, Clarissa. Time is growing late.” He moved across the room. “Why are you here in the dark? I will light...”

  “Don’t!” she cried. “Aunt Sissy said it would be best...if it was dark.”

  Her voice faded into the darkness, but her nervousness could not be denied. He walked to the bedside. His eyes, adjusted to the dim light, saw her eyes large and terrified. It became obvious Clarissa had not been told what occurred between a man and a woman could be a wondrous thing.

  “I had an amazing day. Did you not?”

  “Oh, yes, Wade. The ceremony was so touching. I believe the whole of Charleston turned out for our celebration. Why, everyone said it was the best barbecue ever! They meant it too! It was the grandest day until…”

  Once more her words faded, but it was not nervousness that halted her. He realized Clarissa was thinking of Jo.

  They sat in silence for a time. He decided he would not force her to consummate their marriage this night. He had never forced himself on a woman; he would not start with his wife. Even with the realization that most welcomed the opportunity to share his bed.

  Clarissa needed to be wooed; then seduced far away from the influence of her stuffy old Aunt Sissy. He could well imagine the old biddy told Clarissa to lie on the bed and endure the pain and humiliation that was part of marriage.

  His attention now upon his wife, he would make the effort needed to have a successful marriage. He was certain he would have her most willing in the days to come.

  Taking the sheet, Wade pulled it up around his wife and tucked her into bed. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Sleep, my dear. I will take to the chair. When you are ready, I will take my place alongside of you in our bed.”

  He only wished she hadn’t seemed so relieved.

  Chapter Eight

  Scandal created the strangest trepidation, Jo thought as she sat in the parlor with Grace Ann and Charlotte. Over the last week since Wade’s wedding, the household had become lugubrious and energized with purpose at the same time.

  Aunt Sybil and Grandpa Henry had sat in the study for hours and debated her fate. Mr. Whitney consulted on the issue before he left for Charleston. Uncle Vernon declared there was no need for a deliberation. It was plain and simple. It was a disgrace for the family, which required Jo to marry quickly and without fanfare.

  No one asked Jo her preference. It became apparent that her opinion mattered little. She just waited to be told her fate while she lamented the disaster her life had become.

  Callers trickled in and out of the Groves, among them the Fosters. It had been quite uncomfortable. Jo had known Taz since she arrived in Charleston. They had a long-standing friendship, but it had never been more than that.

  Taz was of short stature. His brows were black and thick above deep-set eyes fringed with dark lashes. He was an intelligent sort. In her youth, Jo and Taz had spent many hours playing chess and contemplating books along the Battery. He hadn’t been the sort to have many friends.

  His parents seemed none too happy at the change in events of their son’s life. Mrs. Eliza Foster greeted her with a chill that never melted during the visit. Jo observed that not even the prospect of her son marrying into one of the prominent families in Charleston overcame the stigma of the scandal attached to Jo’s name.

  “I fear she has reservations, Jo,” Taz said. “She worries about the reputation of the school. I have told her of your intelligence, but if not for the promised dowry, I do not feel I could make the offer.”

  Jo wanted to retort that marriage would quiet the scandal, but found she hoped that Taz would not make a formal offer. She liked Taz well enough, but did not love him. The thought of a lifetime of reproach from his m
other was enough to sour the contemplation of marriage.

  There really was no good outcome to the dilemma she faced. If it wasn’t Taz, Holt Miller loomed on the horizon. God help her! She could not face a man such as he! She had heard he had been a handsome man in his youth, but his looks faded with years of drinking. His flushed, ruddy face…a gut that hung over his tight pants…mean-spirited.

  “Calm yourself, Jo. I assure you that it will be over soon enough. Of course, the wedding will be small, quite understandable,” Grace Ann complained. “But afterwards, I will talk Mr. Whitney into a large celebration in Charleston. A grand affair, I imagine, as long as you are not expecting too soon. It would only stoke speculation.”

  “Grace Ann!”

  “Oh, Jo, don’t fend innocence. You know the way of the world. You are not one of those naïve young things like Charlotte here.”

  Charlotte turned twelve shades of red. Uttering under her breath, she said, “I know things.”

  “Dear Charlotte, you’re too sweet,” Grace Ann mused. “Jo, on the other hand, has always been a curious thing.”

  Jo flushed with the remembrance of interrupting two of her grandfather’s slaves when she had been on a ride. She had only been thirteen, but it was embedded in her memory. She had been racing Harry Lee, Buck, and Grace Ann along the back roads to the fields.

  At first, she thought the naked buck was hurting the girl. Lord, she hadn’t an idea what was going on…grunting and panting…the sweating, gleaming back of the man covered the woman. Jo screamed.

  Then the buck stood…she had never seen a naked man before…she did that day. Later, she could have sworn Harry Lee had known what had been occurring. She had been kidded endlessly since that moment.

  Jo frowned. “Don’t tease Charlotte, Grace Ann. She will think less of me.”

  Grace Ann shook her head and waved her hand in front of her face. “Look at me, Jo, and tell me that you have not shared more than a hand hold with Wade. Do not lie. His reputation precedes him.”

  “I don’t need to defend myself. I told you he had been honorable,” Jo protested. She allowed her gaze to drop. Grace Ann always had a way of pulling the truth out of her.