Master Of Paradise (7 page)

She pulled herself away from him haughtily and gave him a scathing glance. "What the hellfire does it have to do with you, pray?"

His eyes narrowed. "Whoever has control of you, isn't doing a good job."

For a moment he looked so threatening, she feared him, then quick as a flash she set him straight. "No one has control of me, and no one ever will! I curse in French because my mammy doesn't understand it."

"Your mother may understand more than you suspect, little madam."

She giggled, her hostility dissolving. "Not my mother. My mammy! Mammy Lou."

Samuel explained to Amanda, "This genlmuns all de way from England across de seas. Ah ain't explained to him about no mammies yet."

"Are y'all visiting my father?"

Nick said, "I haven't had the pleasure yet, Miss Jackson, but if your father is the owner of all this wonderful, uncleared land, then I am about to make his acquaintance."

She curtsied formally. "Our plantation is across the river, over that way." She hesitated. "When you visit us, I hope the fact that you are a gentleman of breeding will seal your lips about my behavior?"

He strove to keep the amusement from his face. He bowed. "Purely and absolutely."

The first time Nicholas dined at the Jackson Plantation stood out in his memory for years. Bernard Jackson was a true Southern gentleman whose welcome to his home could not have been warmer if Nick had been his own son. That day he realized that Southern hospitality was not some myth, but a very real and pleasant way of life. Business could not be discussed before dining, nor before mere acquaintance developed into friendship.

The invitation to be an overnight guest was more like a command that could not be refused without appearing churlish. Samuel blended smoothly into the multitude of house servants, and it was understood without a word being spoken that the hospitality was also extended to Nick's servant.

Bernard Jackson was a distinguished-looking man with carefully clipped gray beard and mustache, still attractive and slim despite his middle years. Nicholas thought he looked more the politician than land owner. He soon learned that his host had been active in the Congress in Richmond, Virginia, but had unselfishly decided to spend more time at the plantation because of his wife's deteriorating health.

Miz Caroline, as he affectionately referred to his delicate wife, was indeed a frail, faded lady, but withal so sweet and gentle, always deferred to her husband to assure that he appeared intelligent, contented, and uncontradicted. In return she was lavished with exaggerated gallantry.

Nicholas liked Miz Caroline. He could clearly see that she had borne her burdens and managed to retain her charm like a true lady. From her
chaise longue
she managed to run a household of more than thirty individuals, both black and white.

Upon close inspection the plantation house was only a log structure. It was the magnificent trees and flowering shrubs that lent it an air of elegance. Inside however, was most surprising. Its furnishings were designed for both elegance and comfort. It was clear to Nicholas that planters had such prosperity of land, slaves, and money, they could afford anything they desired.

The planters' favorite drink was a pony of bourbon over sugar and crushed mint. Nicholas found bourbon more to his taste than the whisky his father had favored. He sipped the cool drink appreciatively and again broached the subject of the land he wished to purchase.

Bernard Jackson waved his arm. "Time aplenty to discuss business tomorrow. We'll ride over the whole place and I'll show you what's for sale, suh. All the uncleared land for certain sure. Got more than I'll ever need right now. In fact, I might just sell off some acreage that's already cleared. It plumb does my heart good to see ambition in someone as young as you. 'Course I have an overseer looks after the field hands and planting. Had to, bein' away at Richmond. My only son, Brandon, attends Virginia Military College. Don't suppose Brandon will be interested in expandin' the place none whatsoever. Boy's only interested in ridin' an' shootin'," he said indulgently.

The meal in the dining room was served most formally, with more servants dancing attendance than Nicholas had ever seen in his life, and he had often dined with royalty. Miz Caroline had one slave aptly named Porter, whose sole duty it was to carry her from bedroom to parlor; from parlor to kitchen; and from kitchen to dining room. After she was formally seated, the other family members took their places.

An elderly lady entered and Bernard Jackson introduced her. "This is my half-sister Billie, who makes her home with us now."

Nick's eyes were drawn to her, and it was all he could do to keep from staring. At kindest she could be described as suffering from
excedent de poids,
or cruelly as a gross mass of quivering flesh. He held his breath as she lowered herself onto a Chippendale dining chair. He released the breath when it was not smashed into smithereens.

Jennifer Joy made her curtsy next. If a young woman could be described as having perfect features, it would be Jennifer Joy. She was a vision of loveliness with blonde curls arranged exquisitely to frame her angelic face, and set off her eyes, which were the blue of a summer sky. She wore a frilly confection of a dress, embroidered with forget-me-nots. It had puffed sleeves and allowed her creamy arms to be displayed in all their pale loveliness.

Nicholas found it difficult to guess her age. She was perhaps sixteen or seventeen, just flowering into womanhood.

Mammy Lou had allowed her to wear her hair up because a gentleman was dining with them. Jennifer Joy was just beginning to feel the heady power a beautiful young belle held over the opposite sex. She had learned all the nuances of flirtation and practiced them relentlessly on Nicholas.

Amanda Virginia was seated last. Nicholas gallantly held her chair and she sank to the floor in a graceful curtsy. The change was so startling, he could scarce believe what he saw. She had been scrubbed thoroughly. A strong pair of hands had tamed her wild masses of hair into neat braids, coiled primly over each ear, and her starched lace collar and cuffs were immaculate.

"This is our baby, Amanda Virginia."

Nicholas leaned forward and looked down the table at her. She leaned forward and gave him a solemn, conspiratorial wink.

The damask napery, the Georgian silver, the brilliant candles and the livery-clad slaves anticipating their every move pointed up the opulent way of life that was completely taken for granted.
I will never take things for granted again,
Nicholas thought.
Life is tenuous and with one stroke of Fate, all can be snatched away.

Aunt Billie never spoke. She nodded, almost as if she had been trained to do so. Miz Caroline graciously encouraged Nicholas to tell them about himself and about his home in England. He obliged, but kept in mind that females were treated differently her in the South. Many things were not discussed in front of ladies. No business, no matter that was the least unpleasant, no politics, and nothing that even remotely hinted at uprisings or trouble with the slaves.

Jennifer Joy smiled at him, but when he smiled back, she turned all distant with lowered lashes. She alternated with the warm-cool treatment until he couldn't even taste what he was eating, but he could imagine his mouth on hers, especially when it pouted, just so. Then he chastised himself for having lustful thoughts about a young lady of her tender years.

After dinner Nicholas excused himself on the pretext of going outside to smoke, but actually he wanted to see the outbuildings and slave cabins to get an idea of what to build to house his own men when he got them.

When he entered the stables, they were so clean that only the smell of hay and leather and horses could be detected. He turned at a noise behind him and discovered Amanda. Her hair had obviously been confined long enough, and had started to unravel from the braids so that all semblance of neatness had totally vanished.

She regarded him solemnly with a long, golden gaze, then asked frankly, "What did you think of them?"

Nicholas hid a smile. "I think your father a very fine man, and your mother a real lady. They have been most hospitable to me."

"Don't patronize me! I don't mean my parents; you know that very well sir. What about the others?"

He teased, "Well, I didn't get to meet your brother yet."

She flung her head back to toss her hair over her shoulders. "That's because daddy packed him off to school for pestering the wenches. They feared if he got himself a yard-child, it would purely kill mother."

Nicholas was shocked at the outrageous things she was saying.
This little madam is wise beyond her tender years.
He frowned. "You've been listening to gossip, Mandy. I hardly believe anyone has discussed these things with you."

"Oh, I listen to Mammy Lou and the house servants' gossip all the time. Mammy says if a young man hankers after a wench night and day, it stunts his growth and send him lunatic!"

Nicholas could control his amusement no longer. He threw back his head and laughed outright. "There could be some truth in that."

She looked vastly pleased with herself that she had amused him. "What did you think of Aunt Billie?" she asked bluntly.

Nicholas chose his words carefully. "Well, she never actually spoke to me. She just nodded."

"That's 'cause she has to keep her place when company comes. If she behaves, daddy rewards her with an extra pony of bourbon. Mammy Lou says she's the scandal of the family and has a skeleton in her closet."

Her eyes flashed angrily. "Be damned to you then!" She whirled about, saw Mammy Lou had overheard her, and clapped her hand to her mouth.

"Amanda Virginia Jackson, y'all apologize to de genleman, elsewise yo' gonna get a lickin' dat won' let yo' sit fo' a week." Her black face shook in outrage.

Amanda declared with passion, "Mammy Lou, you ruin my whole life! Never run, never shout, never cuss, never frown, never interrupt, never, never, never!"

Nicholas returned to the house just in time to see Jennifer Joy's crinoline disappear up the staircase. No doubt about it, he lost his heart that very first night.

Before Nicholas Peacock departed the Jackson Plantation he had acquired three hundred acres, fifty of which were already cleared and plowed, ready for planting. Bernard Jackson threw in all the cotton seed he would ever need.

He learned that Jackson did not own the land on top of the escarpment known as Paradise Hill. It was still owned by the county, and he knew that by the time he'd purchased a dozen field hands and plows, mules, shovels, and axes he'd need to clear the land, he would have exhausted his supply of gold. Nicholas however was determined to acquire Paradise Hill and a few hundred acres on the plateau, so the first thing he would do when he got back to Charleston would be mortgage the land he had just purchased from Jackson, to get the money to buy more land.

Amanda had been hanging about outside her father's office and at mention of Paradise Hill, she burst in on the two men and shouted wildly, "Father, you know Paradise Hill is mine! Don't you dare let Mr. Peacock get his hands on it!"

"Amanda Virginia, ah am shocked that you would listen to our business discussion. Go to your room at once, little madam!"

"I will not!" She stamped her foot willfully and gave Nicholas a look that almost burned him with the battle fire in her yes. "If you sell him Paradise, I shall kill myself!"

"Ah'm sure our guest will overlook your dramatics, but he can hardly forgive your appalling lack of manners."

Nicholas gave her one of his amused glances and she swept from the room like a goddess about to mete out some terrible revenge to any poor mortal who dared to cross her path.

Bernard cleared his throat. "Ah must apologize for my daughter's odd behavior, Nicholas. She's been too much indulged ah'm afraid and the result is she is somewhat, er, eccentric."

As Samuel and Nicholas saddled up prior to their leave-taking, Amanda brought sugar lumps for the horse and the mule, and fondled the animals' muzzles.