The Pattern of Her Heart (28 page)

“Why, of course. I thought we’d settled that issue. I’ll be expecting you after school. I’m going to begin embroidering squares for a quilt. Perhaps you’d like to work on one of your own?”

“Oh, that would be grand. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Reggie said, hurrying up the path to the house.

Elinor watched until Reggie had safely entered the house. As she turned toward home, Elinor’s thoughts returned to her earlier conversation with Reggie. She had longed to ask for the name of the woman who had captured Justin Chamberlain’s heart. However, she had forced herself not to pry. Not knowing would make it easier to remain optimistic—more capable of encouraging Reggie. After all, had Reggie revealed that her father was enamored by someone like Caroline Emory or Sarah Sanders, Elinor would find it impossible to remain positive.

Yes, she decided, there were some things best left unknown.

T
HE ENTIRE DAY
had been replete with problems. Clara had whined and cried throughout her waking hours, and on the few occasions when her tears ceased, Alice Ann teased her until the weeping again began in earnest. And Spencer’s behavior had been no better. He had refused to complete his schoolwork, maintaining he was tired and didn’t feel well.

Jasmine rocked Clara on her lap, hoping the child would take a nap. “Perhaps the children are ill. Have you heard whether there’s any sickness on the other plantations?” she asked Prissy, who was rolling a ball across the floor to Alice Ann.

“You’s worrying too much, Miz Jasmine. The plague’s over with—we done with dat mess till next year,” Prissy said as she tossed the ball back to Alice.

“There are illnesses other than yellow fever—ones that occur throughout the year,” Jasmine replied as she rested her palm on Clara’s forehead. “Come here, Spencer. Let me see if you’re feverish.”

Spencer placed his palm on his forehead. “I don’t have a fever,” he told her.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Come here, please.”

With a grudging look upon his face, Spencer moved to her chair and leaned down while Jasmine placed her hand on his forehead. “You don’t feel warm,” his mother conceded. “I can’t imagine what’s wrong with the three of you today.”

“We want to go home,” Spencer said as he flopped down on the divan.

“So do I. And we will. Every last person on this plantation is going to leave. But first we must get picking the final crop, and once it is ginned and baled, we can ship the entire crop to New Orleans.”

Spencer formed his lips into a taut line and narrowed his dark brown eyes. “When that’s done, you’ll say we must remain until you complete something else. We’re never going to leave, and I don’t want to live here.”

“Your father and I are perfectly aware of your wishes, Spencer, and if you don’t cease your unpleasant behavior, you may go to bed.”

“We haven’t even had supper yet.”

“Exactly!” Jasmine replied, her retort filled with exasperation.

“So you think we’s gonna be leaving soon, Miz Jasmine?” Prissy asked in a trembling whisper.

Jasmine nodded. “Mr. Houston agrees that we will leave by February at the latest—whether or not the plantation has sold.”

Prissy wrapped her arms around her knees and began to rock back and forth. “I don’ wanna leave here, Miz Jasmine. I done lived here long as I can ’member, and dis here’s my home. Don’t wanna be leaving it. I always been thinkin’ me and Toby would jump the broom and we’d grow old on dis here place. Now ever’thing’s changing.”

“There’s nothing to be concerned about, Prissy. You and Toby are going to be just fine. Surely you want your freedom more than you want to stay here.”

“I don’t care nothing ’bout no freedom if I can stay here and have ever’thing stay the same as always.”

“But it can’t, Prissy. The Willows is going to have a new owner, and we have no idea who it might be—possibly someone like Mr. Wade from the Bedford Plantation. You wouldn’t want to be here if that happened, would you?”

“No, ma’am. I just want things to go back to the way they was before Massa Malcolm died. Ain’t nobody up there in the North gonna hire me to do no work.”

“Of course they will, Prissy. You’re a wonderful housekeeper and have much to offer—and so does Toby.”

“They ain’t gonna want me when they find out I’m gonna have a baby,” she whispered.

Jasmine met Prissy’s intent, frightened gaze. “You’re . . .”

“Yessum.”

“You and Toby should be married immediately. Why didn’t one of you come to me?”

“Toby don’ know either,” Prissy whispered. “I was skeered to tell him.”

Jasmine grasped Prissy’s hand. “There’s no need to be afraid. Toby is an honorable man. He’ll want to be responsible for his child—he was already planning to marry you.”

“Yessum, that’s true.”

“Then we need to see to this matter immediately. Is there someone special you’d like to perform the ceremony?”

“Ol’ Samuel down in the slave quarters—he do the preaching and marrying for us,” she said.

“I want you to promise me you’ll talk to Toby this very evening. Then tell him I want to speak to him.”

“Oh no, ma’am. Please don’t be giving Toby no talkin’ to—he’ll for sho’ be angry with me if you do that.”

“I wasn’t going to scold him, Prissy. I want to tell him that I’ll be willing to help in any way necessary so the two of you can be married as soon as possible,” Jasmine said. “And I want you to cease your worrying about finding a place to work and live when we go North. Both you and Toby can live at the Houston farm. There’s plenty of work on the farm that I’m certain Toby would enjoy, and you can continue to help with the children. Everything is going to be fine, Prissy.”

“Yessum,” she replied in a faltering voice.

Her agreement was unconvincing, and Jasmine knew nothing she said was going to convince Prissy her life would be better away from The Willows. The young woman would have to see for herself. Once they were in the North, her life would be filled with possibilities. There would be ample opportunities for her and Toby as well as the baby she was now expecting.

“I’m going to go downstairs and see if Mr. Houston has returned. He said he would be bringing a land agent home late this afternoon,” Jasmine said as she placed Clara in Prissy’s arms. She walked toward the door and then turned and glanced over her shoulder before exiting the room. “And don’t forget I want to talk to Toby later this evening.”

Prissy nodded her agreement. However, she looked as though she’d been told she was going to receive forty lashes.

Jasmine’s friendship with Prissy had deepened since their arrival at The Willows, and Jasmine truly enjoyed the young woman’s company. She wanted to believe Prissy trusted her, yet the girl remained unwilling to embrace the thought of moving North no matter what Jasmine said or did. Perhaps Prissy was afraid to trust anyone—even Toby. After all, Toby was more than anxious to leave the South and gain his freedom.

And why hadn’t Prissy told Toby she was expecting his child before now? Surely she didn’t intend to wait until they wed to tell him. Jasmine was certain Toby would have married Prissy the moment he discovered her condition. And though Jasmine hadn’t expressed her surprise to Prissy, she was somewhat taken aback by Toby’s behavior. From the time he was a young boy, he’d always attempted to act in an honorable manner.

“I see you’ve arrived home,” Jasmine greeted Nolan as she walked into the library. She glanced about the room expecting to see the land agent.

“Yes—a short time ago. If Mr. Turner is a punctual man, he should be arriving within the hour.” Her husband stood and kissed her cheek. “You look particularly lovely today.”

A lilting ripple of laughter escaped her, and she sat down beside him on the divan. “You say that
every
day.”

“Because it’s true,” he replied. “How has your day been?”

“Difficult. The children have been out of sorts. Clara crying, Alice Ann teasing, Spencer unwilling to do his school lessons—I don’t know what’s gotten into them. Spencer says it’s because they’re homesick, but that’s his reasoning for everything.”

Nolan pulled her closer in a warm embrace. “We’ll be leaving soon. We’re all anxious to return to the farm, but poor Spencer wants to believe he’s the only one who’s truly unhappy. I’m sorry your day has been trying.”

“I haven’t shared the most surprising news of all,” she said, turning to face her husband.

“Did you know that when you become excited, the golden flecks in your eyes sparkle like brilliant gold nuggets?” he asked before leaning forward and brushing her lips with a kiss.

She giggled and pulled away from her husband’s embrace. “Nolan, stop that! I have something I must tell you.”

He immediately drew her back into his arms and kissed her with increasing passion. “So tell me . . . what is your news?” He pulled away only far enough to whisper his question.

His breath tickled her lips, and she smiled while pushing against his chest. “I can’t speak if you continue to smother me with kisses.”

“All right. I promise to stop—at least for a few moments. I do hope your news warrants my sacrifice,” he said with a grin.

“When Spencer was lamenting his woes about returning home, I told him that we would all be leaving soon. Then, as she normally does, Prissy said she didn’t want to depart The Willows. I made every attempt to convince her that she would find suitable employment and she and Toby would have a good life.”

“I believe I’ve heard this all before,” Nolan said, giving her a sidelong glance.

“But not this part! She said no one would be willing to employ her because she’s going to have a baby.”

Nolan turned to meet her gaze. “Well, that
is
news. If she’s speaking the truth, I’m surprised Toby hasn’t already married her.”

“She hasn’t told him!”

“Seems strange she wouldn’t tell him immediately— especially since they plan to marry. Did she say why she hadn’t spoken with him?”

“She said she was afraid to tell him, which made absolutely no sense to me. Toby is gentle and kind—I have no doubt he will accept responsibility for his actions. Though I must admit I’m disappointed by his behavior.”

“Don’t judge him too harshly, Jasmine. We don’t know the circumstances, and it’s unfair to place blame.”

“You’re correct. Blame won’t change anything. I told Prissy she was to tell Toby about her condition today and that I wanted to talk with him this evening.”

Shifting on the divan, Nolan turned to give her his full attention. “I don’t believe this is a proper topic for you to discuss with Toby, my dear. Tell Prissy to have him come and see me.”

“I was merely going to tell him I thought they should marry immediately and ask what I could do to assist them.”

“Still, I think it would be more appropriate for him to talk with me. Besides, he’ll likely be more at ease speaking to another man, don’t you think?”

Jasmine nodded. “Yes, of course. I did tell Prissy that she and Toby could come and live on the farm and work for us if she was fearful about their welfare. I do hope you don’t disapprove?”

He laughed. “Have I ever disapproved of your lending aid to others? There’s more than sufficient work to keep them both busy at whatever work they might choose to do. However, I believe we should permit Toby to have a say in the matter. I don’t want him to feel we’re forcing them to come and live at the farm.”

“No, of course not. I made the offer because of Prissy’s concern about finding work. Should they choose to go somewhere else, that’s perfectly acceptable.”

The quiet was interrupted and Nolan stood and peered out the window.

“Ah, I believe that is Mr. Turner’s carriage approaching in the driveway,” he said as he pulled out his pocket watch and snapped open the lid. “I’ll go out and greet him.”

“I believe I’ll go to the kitchen and ask Martha to serve refreshments. I shouldn’t be long.”

Jasmine walked down the hallway and into the empty kitchen, then realized the servants were likely in the detached summer kitchen. During the heat of summer, the kitchen contained within the walls of the house was used merely as a serving kitchen for preparing coffee, tea, or lemonade.

She waved to Martha as she drew near the other kitchen. “Are you busy preparing supper?” she asked.

“Oh, I don’t do much, Miss Jasmine. These ladies tolerate me in their kitchen just because I miss cooking,” she replied.

“Ain’t true, Miz Jasmine. Miss Martha’s a mighty big help,” Esther said, her black face gleaming like ebony.

“Is there something I can do for you,” Martha asked, “or did you want to oversee the supper preparations?”

“Could you possibly prepare light refreshments and serve them in the library? Mr. Nolan and I are meeting with a gentleman for a short time. Though it’s near suppertime, I thought I should at least offer him a light repast.”

Martha’s head bobbed up and down. “You go and entertain your guest, and I’ll be in shortly.”

The meeting proceeded more quickly than Jasmine had anticipated. In fact, there seemed little to negotiate. Mr. Turner agreed to handle arrangements for the sale of The Willows, and if a buyer was not secured by the time they departed, he would handle matters in their absence.