Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (27 page)

I nearly cried in relief when he whispered to
me between long, hot kisses that he was crazy for me, that my
image, my voice, my presence tormented his mind, no matter how hard
he tried to fight it. Patrick confessed that he knew it was wrong,
but he no longer cared. “I love you, Amelia. I didn’t ask to love
you like this,” he murmured.

We lay down covered in the thick straw and
allowed our lust to simmer down.

“You aren’t regretting this?” I asked.

The cold winter day had turned into a frigid,
moonless night, yet we lay together in the barn, warm and
comfortable now under the blanket.

“Not for one minute. And you?” he asked and
turned onto his side.

“I don’t understand it, but I loved you the
moment I laid eyes on you. I feel as if I have known you forever,
that I was destined to be yours,” I confessed. “And I feared you
would never share those same feelings for me.”

“I do share those feelings. I love you.”

He kissed me again.

I eased my hand up, continually running my
fingers through his hair until I was distracted by the sound of the
trot of a horse in the near distance.

“Daddy’s returned,” I announced
frantically.

Just before Daddy led the horse into the
barn, Patrick and I escaped unseen out the back door. We stole back
into the mansion and hurried upstairs.

“Stay the night with me?” he asked, as we
stood before the door to his room.

“I have to fetch Daddy something to eat. And
finish cleaning the kitchen.”

It was only hours before that I had believed
that Patrick and Hattie were lovers. Unbeknownst to me at the time,
my world had changed for the better. A love affair would begin with
the man who was on this earth not to be my lover, but my
half-brother. Patrick and I dared to challenge life and brave the
consequences of dabbling with the fire of love and lust.

“When you are finished, come to me,” he said,
as he slipped behind the door, but not before stealing a kiss from
my lips.

Daddy appeared puzzled as he looked over the
disaster in the kitchen.

“What happened here?”

“Jacob spilled the flour and I was tending to
Eugenia. I’ll clean it now while I get some soup on for you,” I
said, scurrying around trying to clean and get started cooking.

“I’m not hungry. I ate in Savannah. Just
clean up. I’m leaving at first light of morning. I need to speak
with Patrick. Have you seen him?”

My long hair hid my flushed face, but Daddy
noticed my burn.

“How did you hurt yourself?” he asked, taking
hold of my hand.

“It’s a burn. Patrick had me soak it in milk.
It feels better already.”

Daddy nodded. “It was your mum who would use
milk to soothe his burns. Patrick had an accident once, some embers
from the fireplace leapt out and his pant leg caught fire.
Charlotte tended to him while he recovered. In any case, I am going
to see Patrick and then retire for the night. I’ll be off in the
morning. You take care of things for me, Amelia. Watch over
Eugenia, will you? These next few months won’t be easy. It’s never
easy to bury the ones you love, especially when they are
children.”

“You can’t stay for the funerals, at the very
least?” I asked, naively hoping he would change his mind.

“I have to go. By the time I return, I’m
certain things will be better. I acquired the loan to help you run
the plantation through these troubled times, and I managed to hire
a few Negroes who need work. I’m hoping they will last until my
return. Hamilton can oversee them. Patrick won’t be here more than
another two weeks. I suppose I won’t be seeing him again for a long
time.” Daddy spoke aloud, almost to himself, and left without
acknowledging that he would miss me at all.

Patrick and I were inseparable in the week
following our first union as new lovers. Though we had to steal
about the mansion to be safe from anyone’s eyes, we were mostly
free to carry on as we wished. Patrick’s plantation chores were
eliminated with the arrival of the three new workers.

Eugenia kept herself locked away most of the
time, devastated that Daddy had left, distraught that her daughters
were dead. Hattie was busy with Jacob Thomas and hadn’t an inkling
about me and Patrick.

Some days I would play the piano for Patrick,
and he would gaze lovingly at me while I sang. We would often take
walks and find a serene, private place in the woods and kiss for
hours. At night I would slip into his room, and lie next to
him.

I felt whole and alive, the way I supposed
any woman in love feels. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my
natural glow reminded me of the way Mammy looked when she and Daddy
had carried on their love affair years ago. I couldn’t believe I
was so fortunate to have Patrick’s undivided attention. I needed to
pinch myself often to make certain I was not dreaming.

I was grateful that each passing day went
ever so slowly, and I dreaded Patrick’s imminent departure.

“Will I ever see you again?” I cried onto his
chest. “What if something terrible happens to you?”

“This war will not last forever. Until we are
together again, I will send letter after letter. I will be loyal
only to the Confederacy, my ship, and you. No other woman will ever
have my heart.”

When I asked about our future, he didn’t have
answers for me then.

“Over time we will come to figure that out,”
he said, hushing me and kissing my fears away.

“Don’t you fall in love with anyone while I’m
gone. Especially Warren Stone,” he begged. His eyes were full of
worry, and I did all I could to ease his fears.

“I will set Warren straight as soon as he
returns.”

I revealed to Patrick the details of Warren’s
memory, and he was assured then that Warren would leave.

“I will tell him to go,” I promised.

We planned our future to the best of our
ability. Patrick would go off to war and come back to whisk me away
as soon as he could. Then we would find a way to run off and live
happily ever after. Though we could never be a true husband and
wife, we could live as such under assumed names, Patrick
suggested.

“Someplace up north we will find a place to
live,” Patrick told me the morning the wagon returned with the
bodies of Violet and Beatrice.

“Far away from Savannah?” I asked with some
ambiguity. What would life be like living up north, in a Union
state, far from the only home I have ever known? I wondered.

“No matter where we live, as long as we’re
together, we will be happy. That, I pledge to you. And when we’re
free together, far away from here, I want you to call me only
Garrett.”

“Garrett? Why would I call you by your middle
name?” It seemed like an odd request.

“Your mother used to call me Garrett, not
Patrick. She said I looked more like a Garrett.”

I studied him for a moment and I agreed, for
the name did suit him. I would agree to anything, just to make him
happy.

It wasn’t easy having Hamilton, Mammy, and
Warren return. The first reason was most obvious. As Warren,
Hamilton, Patrick, and the new hired hands carried the caskets off
to the cemetery, Eugenia, Hattie, Jacob Thomas, and I, along with a
scant number of mourners from neighboring plantations, hovered
under umbrellas to shield ourselves from the wet snow showers,
waiting for Reverend Carter to preside over the funeral. It had
snowed, but the ground had warmed up enough to cause the existing
snow to melt, creating a heavy fog that blanketed the cemetery. The
scene was an unusual combination of chilliness and eeriness.

Eugenia wore a plain black dress and heavy
black veil, which concealed her wretchedness. As soon as the
preacher began the Lord’s Prayer, Eugenia instantly fell apart, and
without warning, threw herself onto the caskets and let out a
primitive howl. I shivered from the dreadful sound as Patrick tore
her away and restrained her from throwing herself back again. She
fought him, but her thrashing was no match for him. Finally, she
surrendered and fell to her knees, sobbing incessantly as the
funeral continued.

I couldn’t wait for it to be over. A few
woman acquaintances of Eugenia’s led her from the cemetery to the
mansion, where they prepared a small amount of food for the
mourners. Eugenia was barely able to function that day, but she
knew she had to grieve in proper fashion, and that included
greeting callers. I stood beside Eugenia all morning and well into
the afternoon. Patrick often came to see how I was faring,
discreetly whispering to me that he loved me and if I needed
anything to have Mammy fetch him.

Warren waited in the wings, anxious to come
and talk with me, and was only granted a moment when I went to
change into my formal evening wear. The visitors were coming in
spurts, and we would welcome them well into the late evening.

“Amelia!” Warren called after me.

I stopped halfway down the hall and turned
around. I tried to smile.

“I know you have been occupied all day, but I
needed to see you. I have missed you terribly,” he said and grabbed
my hands. “Have you thought about us?”

“Warren, I cannot talk right how. I have to
change my dress. Maybe tomorrow,” I replied and slipped my hands
out from his hold.

“All right then, tomorrow,” he said and
leaned in to kiss me. I backed away and hurried along to my
room.

I spent several more hours standing with
Eugenia, until finally the undertaking was over. My legs ached, and
I fell into the nearest chair once the front doors were locked.

“I will tidy up. You go on to bed,” Mammy
insisted.

“Thank you, Mammy. I will finish up any
cleaning in the morning,” I said, exhausted, and I slowly climbed
the stairs to the second floor. Everyone had already retired for
the night; the only noise came from Mammy stacking up the dishes
and glasses in the sink. Eugenia had taken her powders, and when I
looked in on her, she was in a heavy sleep. The lamp to Warren’s
room was out, and I assumed he was asleep already.

I crept along the hall and made my way to
Patrick’s room. He was waiting for me, and I fell into his
embrace.

“It has been a long, sad day. You get some
much-needed rest. Maybe tomorrow we can get away for a while,” he
said and placed a kiss atop my head.

I was almost too tired to keep my eyes open
as I wandered back to my room. As difficult as it was to not have
the comfort and protection of Patrick’s arms about me, I fell
asleep in an instant, too tired to even dream.

~ ~ ~

It was all I could do to keep from Warren’s
constant pleading for time with me. I had managed to keep myself
busy, caring as best I could for Eugenia, helping Mammy prepare
meals, and stealing away with Patrick for brief intervals.

Patrick and I couldn’t get enough of one
another. Our time together was dwindling by the seconds, and it
pained us. Our passion remained ignited, even during the days when
we were kept apart and could only fulfill our desires at night,
when we trusted that everyone was asleep.

Warren continued to hover nearly all the
time.

“Amelia, haven’t you got a moment for me?” he
asked. “I have something important to talk with you about.”

I had just finished washing the evening
dishes and longed to change out of my damp dress and to meet
Patrick in his room for our last night together.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m tired.” I sighed and
left him standing bewildered, looking hurt by my rejection.

I hurried to change, slipping into my
nightgown and dabbing some of Eugenia’s perfume behind my ears. I
had managed to take a bottle from her room and stash it away in my
armoire. I brushed out my long hair and powdered my nose and then
peeked out the door to the hall to make sure no one was around.

Patrick was lying in his bed with his hands
propped behind his head, staring at the door, waiting for me to
enter.

There were several candles lit and a warm
fire ablaze in the hearth. I eased the door shut and hurried to
him, falling into his welcoming arms as our lips instantly met.
Knowing this night was our last for an indefinite time, we made
every kiss, every touch, last. We drank in one another’s scent and
pressed our bodies as close as we could so our hearts would beat as
one. There was nothing to say. We fervently loved one another into
the wee hours of the morning, then fell together into a light
sleep.

The wind outside restrained me from a deeper
sleep and finally pulled me awake. The shutters to the windows were
loose, banging against the mansion with each gust of wind. The
drafts were bone chilling and blew through the room, causing the
candles to flicker madly. Shadows danced along the walls and
ceiling, and I blinked my eyes madly, swearing I saw Warren’s
shadow lurking about. I thought I heard the creak of the door
closing.

I anxiously sat up, holding the blanket
against my body, and listened closely. Were those footsteps I heard
in the hall? Was the wind playing tricks on me? I asked myself.

Instead of fearing the unknown, I lay back
down and cuddled next to Patrick. He was warm, and I felt safe with
him. His light breathing soothed me back to sleep; he woke me a
short time later.

“My sweet darling, you must return to your
room. The sun is about to rise,” he whispered as he stroked my
cheek.

I turned into him and we began to kiss. I
realized it would be our last long kiss and tried to fight back my
burning tears, but I couldn’t contain them. The tears streamed down
my face and between our lips.

“I will be back, I promise.”

“What will I do without you?” I sobbed.

“Love me just as you do now. Though we are
apart, our hearts are forever as one.”