A Time for Everything (41 page)

And if she did have access to any of
her inheritance, Beau had no desire to trick a senile old lady into
signing a big fat check for a horse she didn’t need and wouldn’t
realize she was buying. But he decided to hold his tongue for now.
Hopefully the Irishman wouldn’t disappoint him.

Saul finally opened the door. Standing
well over six feet tall and built like an ox, the colored man
intimidated everyone at first glance.

Yet he greeted them in his
uncharacteristically soft voice, “Come in, please, Mr. Stanford,
Reverend McKee.” They stepped inside, and he added, “May I take
your coats and hats?”

“
Certainly,” McKee
answered, handing him the requested articles. Beau followed
suit.

“
Here to call on Miss
Amelie?”

“
Yes, Saul, can you tell
her we’re here?” McKee said, smiling at Beau.

“
Yes, sir. Make yourselves
comfortable.”

Beau and the reverend took seats in
the drawing room. The place was furnished with items from all over
the world — French Monet landscapes painted in soft, soothing
colors, a nude Donatello sculpture from Italy, with its private
parts discreetly covered by a silk handkerchief. Even the furniture
was the design of some famous foreign artisan, though Beau couldn’t
recall the name. Claire’s dearest aunt had certainly traveled
extensively in her younger years. Pity she probably couldn’t
remember most of it.

“
I don’t like this,” Beau
admitted. “Even if she has the money, she hasn’t the mind to know
the purpose for it.”

“
You know, people aren’t
always what they seem,” McKee said.

It wasn’t long before Amelie entered
the room, holding to Saul’s hefty arm. She wore a high-necked white
dressing gown and a puffy nightcap over her silver hair. Beau felt
even worse, knowing they woke her for a plan he doubted would
benefit anyone.

She squinted at her visitors, let go
of Saul, and shuffled over to Beau. Pinching his cheek, her voice
was frail as she asked, “Did you bring Claire this time? She hasn’t
called on me in ages.”

Beau gave McKee a see-what-I-mean
look, but the reverend addressed Amelie. “My dearest Miss Hamilton,
Mr. Stanford and I have come to call on you, just the two of us.”
His voice took on a serious note as he added, “All is well in
heaven and earth.”

What a strange thing to
say.
Beau figured it must have been some
Irish greeting when Amelie straightened her back, gaining at least
two inches in height. She twisted right and left with a crack and
pop.

Much to Beau’s surprise, she responded
to McKee in the no-nonsense drawl of the Southern belle he once
knew. “I thought you’d stopped in at this ungodly hour to ask me if
you could have your wedding here or some such nonsense.”

Looking at the grinning McKee, Beau
answered, “No, nothing like that.”

“
Well, spit it out, then.
A woman needs her beauty sleep, even at my age. Saul…”

She held her hand toward the very
large man and wiggled her fingers. Saul pulled a cigarette from his
shirt pocket and handed it to her. She stuck it between her
wrinkled lips, while Saul struck a match on his thumbnail. It
blazed to life, and he lit her cigarette.

“
Thank you, dear,” she
said to him. “Now shut that door while I have a visit with these
gentlemen.”

“
Yes, ma’am,” Saul said,
nodding to Beau and Reverend McKee as he disappeared on the other
side of the closing double doors.

Amelie took a long draw from her
cigarette, exhaled a hearty cloud of smoke, and had a seat in a
high-backed brocade chair embroidered with swans. Her shrewd eyes
landed on Beau as though waiting impatiently to hear his
story.

He stammered, “I… um… I’m sorry, but I
thought…”

“
Yes, yes, you thought me
a stooped over, senile old woman, standing at the precipice of
death. Good. That’s what I wanted you to think. If I didn’t trust
Joe so much, you would still see me that way.” She turned to McKee.
“Now, what I want to know is why you think I should blow my cover
here in front of my nephew-in-law.”

“
He’s in quite the
predicament and needs to turn a quick profit,” McKee
said.

“
Is that so? I thought you
were right where you wanted to be, marrying my niece’s dowry. You
can’t wait another few days to get your hands on it?”

“
No,” Beau said, still
finding this whole situation unreal. “I don’t want any of that. I
want to buy Lucy and Tipp’s freedom.”

He proceeded to tell her everything
about the contract, but he left Portia out of it. There was no
sense bringing her up if none of this resulted in his freedom to be
with her.

Amelie took another puff from her
cigarette and nodded. “So, that’s how they got you. Life for a
life, huh? I’ve known you a long time, Beauregard Stanford, and I
didn’t think you would marry that little hussy, but then I heard
the news…”

Beau had to smile at the old lady’s
assessment of Lydia. “Why, Amelie, that’s your niece.”

“
I don’t care who she is,
if the shoe fits…” She took another long draw from her
ever–shrinking cigarette and flicked the ashes into a nearby
ashtray. “Look, I love my sister, but she made a real mistake
marrying Oliver Clemons, and she knows it.”

“
So, she knows
about…”

“
She knows everything.
They haven’t shared a room in years, but he’s never slept alone.
She might be stupid, but she’s not blind or deaf.”

“
I see.”

“
You’re a good man for
wanting to help them. I’ve been trying to for years but couldn’t
without implicating myself. Can’t trust those northerners if you’re
from below the Mason-Dixon Line. And goddamn, Oliver’s got ’em
watched like hawks. One step out of his sights and they wouldn’t
stand a chance.”

“
I don’t understand… how
are you and McKee here connected?”

McKee smiled at her like he could be
her long lost grandson. “Amelie has funded my abolitionist movement
for years. Thanks to her, a great number of black Americans are
enjoying their freedom today.”

Beau laughed and shook his head. “All
this time, Saul and the others…”

“
Oh yes, just like Isaac
and Bessie. They’ve always been free. Ever since I inherited this
place, that is. Never did cotton to slavery. I hated what Daddy did
to our people. Treated them like beasts of burden instead of
humans. Not me. And as you can see from Saul and my other boys, if
you treat people kindly and allow them the choice, they’re much
more likely to be loyal. So, how much you need for that pretty
horse? I’ve got a ‘buyer’ in Nashville who’s been funneling my
money for years. He’ll be
really
interested, I’m sure, though it will take a
couple days to arrange it.”

“
Twenty
thousand.”

Amelie whistled. “He really put you in
a bind, that old devil. The money is no issue. Lucky for you, I
didn’t put all my assets in Confederate coin. I’ll even pay off
your debt now that I know you’re not an idiot.”

Beau laughed. “I’m glad your opinion
of me has improved, though I don’t know how I’ll ever repay
you.”

“
I’m a sixty-six-year-old
spinster with a roof over my head and plenty to eat. What the hell
else can I spend my fortune on besides helping folks who need
it?”

“
Point taken, and thank
you, Amelie. Now our problem lies in whether Oliver will even
accept the trade.”

“
I wouldn’t count on it.
But his language is money, so you’ll have a leg up there. Pity we
can’t wait just a few more weeks.”

“
Why’s that?”

McKee shifted in his seat and glanced
at Amelie, who gave him a nod. “We have evidence on him. Evidence
that we’ve reported to the authorities in both Washington and
Philadelphia.”

“
What
evidence?”

“
Mr. Clemons had his hand
in all manner of things. Arson for one. Last February, back in
Philly, a warehouse owned by Blackburn and company went up in
flames like nothing the city had ever seen before. It housed
hundreds of barrels of coal-oil. The fire spread all down ninth,
Washington, Ellsworth, and Federal, taking with it innocent
families as they slept. Dozens died. Little children were found in
the streets, burned to a crisp.”

“
I read about that. Why in
God’s name would he orchestrate such a thing?”

“
Mr. Blackburn won a
munitions contract that Oliver wanted for Clemons
Ironworks.”

Closing his eyes, Beau gritted his
teeth, trying to tamp down his loathing for now so he could
concentrate on the matter at hand. “What else?”

“
Ever hear of an actor
named Booth?”

Beau shivered, instinctively touching
the back of his head. “You mean as in John Wilkes?”

“
The very same. We believe
he helped fund that assassination. We followed the paper trail and
thought we had something when Booth’s diary was found. But several
pages were missing. We still have enough on him to get a conviction
for other crimes, not necessarily the hanging he
deserves.”

Amelie crushed her
cigarette butt into the ashtray. “And now that a government
physician has proven me mentally stable, I’ll be able to stand as a
witness and get that bastard put away. They could be coming to
arrest him at any time. The bad thing is time isn’t on
your
side.”

Beau stood and paced across the thick
Oriental carpet. She was right about time running out with less
than two weeks until the wedding. And who knew when Oliver would be
arrested. He’d played by the rules so far, kept his end of the
bargain, because he didn’t have any other strategy. But now he had
the money to back his counterattack, and he had the knowledge that
Oliver Clemons wouldn’t be an issue at all for much
longer.

“
Then it’s time to move,”
Beau said. “We get Lucy and Tipp away from him, and we don’t take
‘no’ for an answer.”

Still, his conscience warred with his
heart. Lydia knew nothing about any of this. He’d almost resigned
himself to the marriage, and she had proven to be more loving and
mature than he ever thought she could be. But she deserved someone
who could truly love her, who wasn’t forced into marrying her, and
that someone wasn’t him. Once he’d dealt with Oliver, he would tell
her everything and hoped she wouldn’t be devastated.

The next two
days crawled by, with Lydia’s wedding plans going
full steam ahead during the day and insufferable dinners at
Oliver’s table by night. Luckily, all those plans distracted her
too much for her to notice the missing horse or his preoccupied
mind. Beau longed to tell Ezra and Jonny about his plans, but he
couldn’t risk word getting out. He ‘just happened’ to run into Tipp
during a visit to Isaac and Bessie’s house.

The two of them played a long overdue
game of checkers. Lucy, of course, wasn’t there. She wasn’t allowed
to leave the main house until Beau had handed over his freedom for
hers. He hated having to tell Tipp what Lucy had lived through, but
he did anyway, though he left out the possibility of their unborn
child being Oliver’s.

“
Jesus, I shoulda killed
him already,” Tipp said, drawing his lips in tight. His brown
fingers squeezed themselves into rock-hard fists.

“
You know what would
happen if you did.” Down to three checkers. Beau jumped one of
Tipp’s ten red ones.

“
Maybe so, but damn it,
Beau, I ain’t much of a man if I can’t protect my family.” Tipp
slammed a fist on the table, rattling the checkerboard and pieces.
His chest rose with a deep breath; his tense muscles relaxed as he
exhaled. Then he caught Beau’s mistake and jumped two more of his
checkers in one move.

“
But that’s what you’ve
done. You’ve protected them from seeing you hang. Now we have the
opportunity to turn things around.”

“
She should have told me
he was beatin’ her again. I would have found a way for us to get
out.”

Beau took his last move, having to
choose between two spaces that were both guarded by Tipp’s red
checkers. “To hell with it.” He slid the checker into enemy
territory. “She was worried for you and Sallie Mae, and she really
wanted you to have the land Oliver promised, though I doubt he had
any intention of keeping his word.”

“
Once we get out of here,
we ain’t settin’ foot in Tennessee again. But you know I’m gonna
miss you, Beau. We ain’t had near enough time to visit.”

“
I know, but maybe we can
visit you someday wherever you end up.”

“
I hope so. We’ll play
more checkers, too. You sure ain’t got no better at it.” Tipp
jumped Beau’s last piece and sat back in his chair with a sigh.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. You can use that money for
yourself and marry Miss Lydia. Live happily ever after.”

Beau shook his head and stacked a few
random checkers. “Hanging might be the better option
there.”

Tipp finally managed to crack a smile.
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but yes, I think you’re right. Now
tell me how you’re plannin’ on getting’ Lucy and Sallie Mae
out.”