Could it be a coincidence that the beauty sitting beside him smelled just as sweet? That her hair shined just as bright? His interest in her perplexed him, especially when he’d initially not welcomed the request to be her escort. He had no doubt there would be competition from the other male guests to be her dance partner at the reception.
“Don’t they make a lovely couple?” Miss Davis whispered, breaking his train of thought. She wiped her eyes with a hanky.
“Yes, they are a striking pair.” He joined the applause at the end of the ceremony. Standing, he offered his arm to her again and asked, “Shall we go inside for some refreshment?”
She smiled up at him. “That would be most enjoyable.”
Music drifted from the ballroom as they approached the house. He wondered what it would feel like to have Miss Davis in his arms, her body pressed just so against him as they danced. He shook those thoughts away and focused on making small talk.
“How long will you be staying in Jackson, Miss Davis?”
“I’m not sure. Elizabeth has asked me to stay on and help her with a few social functions once she and Mr. Cooper return from their wedding tour.”
“So there is nothing pressing that insists you return to—”
“Memphis? No, not really.” Her emerald eyes sparkled as they joined the mass of guests waiting in the receiving line to bid well wishes to the newlyweds.
Jared found it strange that the beautiful young woman didn’t have suitors lined up waiting to spend time with her. Before he realized, he’d spoken his thoughts. “No suitor eagerly awaiting your return?”
“Mr. Hollingsworth!” Her cheeks pinked with color as they reached Mitchell’s parents.
While they waited to congratulate the bride and groom, Miss Davis modestly leaned closer and whispered, “In answer to your question. No. There are no suitors at present. I’ve just come out of mourning.”
He hadn’t realized she was a widow. Why had she been introduced to him as a miss? Puzzled by her remark, Jared clasped Mitchell’s hand tighter than he intended as they shook hands.
“Are things going that bad?” his friend asked, looking concerned.
“No. Not at all.” Jared released his grip before taking the bride’s hand and raising it to his lips for a kiss. “Congratulations to you both. I hope you’ll reserve at least one dance with me, Mrs. Cooper.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth cooed, reaching for Miss Davis’ hand. “Mama, this is my dearest friend from Augusta Seminary, Miss Rebecca Davis.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Calhoun. Thank you for allowing me to attend the wedding. It was absolutely beautiful,” Miss Davis said. “Mr. Calhoun.”
“Miss Davis,” Mr. Calhoun responded.
“You must be proud, Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun,” Jared greeted.
“Thank you for coming all this way to be with us today,” Mrs. Calhoun said coolly without shaking his hand.
“Mama!” the new Mrs. Cooper gasped, giving him an apologetic look and drawing further attention to the slight.
Again Jared heard murmuring behind him and decided to escort Miss Davis away from the line before she questioned the snub. “How about that refreshment now?”
She nodded, but looked confused.
He left her in a small alcove in the ballroom while he fetched punch. When he returned, he found his companion swaying to the music.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked, handing her a glass cup.
“That would be delightful.” She drank the punch, discarding the empty cup on a nearby table.
A waltz played and he offered her his hand. Ever aware of the sweet scent of her perfume, Jared pulled her as close to his body as proper. “I didn’t realize you were a widow, Mrs. Davis,” he said. “Forgive me for not extending my condolences earlier and for not addressing you properly. You should have corrected Mr. Calhoun.”
“Thank you. But I prefer to be called Miss Davis. I’m n-” she began, looking up at him. She didn’t know how to rectify his misinterpretation of why she’d been in mourning.
Perhaps it will be easier to explain Lucas if I don’t correct him
. But no, that wouldn’t be right. She must correct him.
“I’m n-” she tried again, but he cut her off.
“I’m a widower myself. Three years now.”
“Yo-you are?” Rebecca noticed the sorrow and pain behind his blue eyes.
Is that how one looks when they’ve lost their true love?
“Then it is
I
who am sorry for bringing up painful memories, Mr. Hollingsworth.” She smiled, dipping and swaying around the room with his lead.
Jared shook his head. “Life goes on. We cannot dwell in the past. I’ve learned that the hard way. I’ve lived as a recluse for far too long.”
Before she could speak, the dance ended and a young man swept her away before the next reel began. Several dances and partners later, she finally returned to Mr. Hollingsworth’s arms.
“Having a good time?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, relaxing in his gentle hold as they waltzed once more.
Soon the music ended and they made their way to the refreshment table for more punch and a sampling of the wedding cake.
“Hollingsworth, good to see you,” a balding gentleman said, breaking line to refill his cup of punch. “How are things out your way?”
“Well, thank you,” Mr. Hollingsworth replied. “And yours?”
“Couldn’t be better for this time of the season though we can always use a little rain,” the man said, nodding his head in her direction. “I don’t believe we’ve met, miss?”
“Forgive my manners. George Wimple, this is Mrs. I mean Miss Rebecca Davis. She’s a close friend of the bride. Miss Davis, this is Mr. Wimple. He owns a plantation near mine.”
“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Wimple.” Rebecca greeted him with a slight curtsy and a smile.
“Same here and I hope you find Jackson to your liking. Couldn’t be a better place to live,” he said, taking a plate of cake and beginning to munch. “Though, I sometimes wonder if there is a place safe to live. A person’s property can be taken so easily. Have you heard what happened over in Macon?”
“No, I can’t say that I have,” Mr. Hollingsworth said, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. He glanced at her and smiled, though he didn’t appear pleased by the conversation.
“One of the slaves disappeared in broad daylight. She was working one minute and the next she was gone.” The man snapped his fingers for emphasis to what he said and Rebecca felt her stomach knot.
“Mercy,” she murmured, wondering if Mr. Wimple spoke of Ruth’s disappearance or another. The Vigilante Committee had several branches and she was only privy to her mission. She hoped this disappearance would not make her task of seeing Ruth safely out of Mississippi more difficult.
“Exactly, my dear,” Mr. Wimple said with a nod. “I hope they find her and find her soon and she is dealt the strictest of punishments. We don’t need word spreading amongst the plantations and causing others to attempt running off.”
The knot in her stomach tightened a notch or two. “So you think she ran off?”
“Aye, I do.” Wimple finished his refreshment and discarded the plate, refilling his cup for one last gulp of punch. He nodded at them both before sauntering away.
“He’s a lively chap,” Mr. Hollingsworth said, offering her his arm. “Shall we go find the bride and groom?”
“Let’s do,” she said, allowing him to lead once more as they danced their way over to the newlyweds.
Rebecca admired her friend and her husband as he held her close in his arms. They looked lost in a world of their own, despite their dancing in the middle of a crowded room. They made a striking pair, with her fair coloring and his dark features.
Elizabeth looked their way as they approached.
“Rebecca, can I steal Mr. Hollingsworth away for a dance?” she asked when the music stopped for a moment.
“Of course,” Rebecca replied, stepping out of his grasp.
“Allow me.” Mr. Cooper offered her his hand in return.
As she danced with the groom, she found herself watching Mr. Hollingsworth instead of paying attention to her partner. She admired Mr. Hollingsworth’s profile and then his back, amazed how the cloth of his clothes stretched and relaxed over his solid form as he moved. Realizing she’d been staring at him, she chastised herself and lost her footing, stepping on Mr. Cooper’s boot.
“Oh dear! Clumsy me,” she exclaimed apologetically. “I’m so sorry.”
“Wool gathering will do that,” Mr. Cooper replied. Her cheeks burned and he chuckled, dancing them closer to Elizabeth and Mr. Hollingsworth before smoothly changing partners.
“Oh my!” Rebecca gasped with delight, finding herself once again in Mr. Hollingsworth’s strong arms.
“Couldn’t be without your bride that long, Mitchell?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked.
“Neither would you if you were just married,” Mr. Cooper said, giving a wink.
The two men laughed, while Elizabeth glowed.
“By the way, Jared, would you mind seeing Miss Davis back into town? We’re going to be pressed for time getting away to catch our train,” Mr. Cooper asked.
“It will be my pleasure to see Miss Davis to town.”
“Excellent,” Elizabeth stated as the music died away. “Rebecca, be a dear and come upstairs with me while I change into my traveling suit?” Then she placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Darling, I promise not to be long.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Rebecca said to the men before following her friend away from the party.
Once they were upstairs, Elizabeth closed her bedroom door and leaned against it. She placed her left hand, now graced with her wedding ring, over her chest. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven!”
Unable to keep from laughing, Rebecca fell down on the bed, lying on her back and recalled the many evenings they’d spent talking into the wee hours at Augusta. A twinge of sadness pricked at her heart and she realized she missed those carefree days very much.
“Does getting married make you feel that celestial?”
Elizabeth nodded and pushed herself away from the door. “It’s so glorious to be in love. To have someone whisper the unthinkable in your ear and promise you’ll feel splendor in his arms.”
“Elizabeth!” Rebecca exclaimed, sitting up and pushing herself off the bed before she wrinkled her dress. “Come, let me undo your gown or else your husband will come impatiently looking for you.”
“Don’t act so innocent with me, my friend. I saw how you looked at Mr. Hollingsworth while you were dancing. From where I stood it looked like he did the same thing,” she teased, stepping out of the heavy satin dress. She quickly donned the sturdy linen traveling suit with Tilda’s help, changed pearls for a locket on a chain and put on her hat. Standing back, she looked at herself in the floor-length mirror.
“Well, do I look all grown up?”
Rebecca laughed, carefully laying the wedding gown across the bed. “I wager you’ll be asking me if you look different when you return from your wedding tour in a few weeks.”
“I hope so. I’ll be a woman that has been repeatedly made love to by her husband.”
Rebecca covered her cheeks with her hands. Elizabeth’s words had unthinkable thoughts about Mr. Hollingsworth running through her head. “I shouldn’t be hearing this.”
Her friend laughed, applying a drop of fresh perfume behind her ears.
“Come, let’s go back down so you and Mr. Hollingsworth can travel behind our carriage into town,” she urged. “Tilda, please bring down Miss Davis’ bag from the guest room.”
A few minutes later, the two friends descended the staircase to find an array of guests waiting below. Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun and Elizabeth’s three sisters and brother were at the front of the crowd. Near the door waited Mr. Cooper and Mr. Hollingsworth. While the bride bid farewell to her family and friends, Rebecca joined the gentlemen before they boarded the carriages.
Mr. Hollingsworth offered her his arm and escorted her outside. His touch had the strangest effect on her. A warmth like she had never felt before flowed through her and she again wondered what it would feel like to have him kiss her or whisper his desire into her ear. Rebecca already knew it felt heavenly to be held in his arms while dancing.
The driver opened the door for them, and Mr. Hollingsworth helped her into the open carriage. Once she settled on the seat, he joined her.
“Give Lucas a big hug from me.” Elizabeth called as the bridal carriage rolled past them.
Rebecca’s smile faltered.
Oh why had Elizabeth said that?
“Who’s Lucas?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked as the driver eased their carriage forward behind the newlyweds’ coach for the journey.
Rebecca hesitated only slightly before answering. “My son.”
Chapter Two
“Your son?”
“Yes.” Rebecca’s palms sweated and she hesitated a moment, not sure how he would react. “He’s six months old.”
His jaw twitched as he stared straight ahead. He remained quiet for several moments. When he did speak his words lacked emotion. “My wife died giving birth to
my
son.”
Again, Rebecca’s heart ached at his loss, and she regretted not successfully correcting him earlier about being a widow. There hadn’t been a day since she lost Mariah that she hadn’t prayed to have her sister back. They’d been close growing up, the four-year age difference never coming between them.
Remorse overcame her and she laid her gloved hand gently on his. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t apologize, Miss Davis. There was no way for you to have known how I lost my wife.”
“I can tell you loved her very much,” Rebecca said softly.