Candle in the Darkness (18 page)

Eli looked surprised to see me back so soon. He hurried to help me into the carriage. “Back already? Shopping all done? Hey, now . . . what’s wrong, Missy Caroline?” I was nearly nineteen years old, but I had a ridiculous urge to sit on Eli’s lap and cry.

“Take me home, please.”

“Sure thing, Missy. Right away.”

He maneuvered the carriage through the crowded streets and up the hill toward home. By the time the steeple of St. John’s church came into view, I was beginning to calm down, but I still longed to talk to Eli like I used to do when I was a little girl, telling him all my troubles, listening to his gentle wisdom. When he drew the carriage to a halt beside the gate and helped me down, I hesitated, unsure of how to begin. Eli made it easy for me.

“Now, Missy Caroline . . . anything you want to tell me, you know I listen.”

“Can . . . can we go inside the carriage house and talk?” A cold wind was blowing up from the river, and the air had turned chilly.

“Sure thing, Missy. I be going in there to unhitch these horses anyway.” He opened the double doors for me, and I watched from inside as he climbed up into the driver’s seat and drove the carriage in behind me. I was a little afraid of the horses and kept a respectful distance, but Eli treated them as if they were his children, gently patting their flanks, rubbing a favorite spot on their necks, talking quietly to them as he unhitched their harnesses. He would wait patiently for me to speak my mind. And I knew he would listen carefully to everything I said.

“When I lived up north,” I began, “I met a group of people who are working hard to end slavery. One of the reasons I wanted to come home was so that I could work to abolish slavery down here.” I waved the pile of windblown pamphlets that I still clutched in my hand. “See these? They explain what the Anti-Slavery Society believes. They spell it out so clearly. If I could just get people to read them and see the truth, I know they would change their minds.”

Eli examined a spot on one of the horses’ necks where the harness had rubbed. “That what you try and do today?” he finally asked. “Change folks’ minds?”

“Yes . . . but I only talked to one person. And he threatened to throw me in jail.” I exhaled angrily at the memory. “I don’t know what I did wrong . . . or what to do differently next time . . . or how I should go about this. I need your advice, Eli.”

He had removed one of the harnesses, and he held it in his huge hands, rubbing the smooth leather with his thumb as he studied me. “Seem like it be a mighty hard thing to change someone’s mind,” he said. “Most folks won’t change their mind unless they have a change of heart first.”

“Well, then . . . how do I change their heart?”

“You can’t, Missy Caroline,” he said gently. “Only Massa Jesus can change folks’ hearts.”

“How does He do it?”

Eli hung up the harness and led the horses into their stalls. When he was finished, he walked back to where I waited and leaned against the carriage wheel. “If a person’s heart is soft and tender toward God—like yours, Missy Caroline—I think his heart get changed pretty easy. But if folks’ hearts is cold and hard, like a stone—well, only fire can melt stone.”

He looked down at his feet for a long moment, then lifted his head to face me again. “Seems like God gonna have to bring an awful lot of folks through the fire before we see their hearts changing any.”

I wrote to my cousin Jonathan, who was in his last year of school at the College of William and Mary, and told him that I was home. The trip from Williamsburg wasn’t too far by steamer, so I invited him to visit me whenever he was in Richmond. Jonathan had always had a tender heart, and I hoped for an opportunity to preach abolition to him. He’d once told me that he owned Josiah, and I had the crazy idea that if he recognized the truth about slavery he would set Josiah free. At the very least, he might recognize Josiah’s marriage to Tessie and allow them to spend more time together. But I knew I’d have to take Eli’s advice and proceed slowly after my disastrous experience with the stranger I’d met on Main Street.

Jonathan came to see me several times that fall, and I was happy to discover that my cousin hadn’t changed one bit. Of course he was older and taller, a grown man now, with a silky brown mustache. But he was still lanky and lively and every bit as mischievous as he’d been as a boy. He came to the house one afternoon when he was home for Christmas vacation, and he was so excited that he grabbed me by my waist, lifted me up in the air, and whirled me around saying, “Congratulate me, Caroline! I’m in love!”

“Put me down,” I said, laughing, “and tell me who the lucky woman is.”

“Her name is Sally St. John—Sally, Sally, Sally!” he sang. “The most beautiful name, the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met . . . after you, of course. When I’m with her I feel drunk with joy.”

“I’m not sure you’re sober right now,” I laughed. “Come on.” I took his hand and led him into the parlor to sit down. “I’ll have Esther bring some coffee and maybe a bite to eat, and then you can tell me when the wedding is going to be.”

He didn’t sit. His face was suddenly a mask of tragedy. “You don’t understand. I can’t eat. I’m too lovesick. And there is no wedding date. Every man in Richmond is in love with Sally. She lives in a tower in a castle on a distant hill, and I must embark on a quest to woo and win her.” He pulled an imaginary sword from its scabbard and waved it in the air. “But I must be victorious! I simply cannot live without her!”

I grinned up at him. “You’re quite insane.”

“I know. Insanely in love.” He suddenly dropped to one knee in front of the sofa and took my hand in both of his. “Dear Caroline, I’ve come to ask for a favor. I need your help on this valiant quest.”

“Get up, you crazy fool.”

“Not until you promise to help me. Sally has invited me and a dozen other fellows to her Christmas party next week. Please, please, I beg you to come with me.”

“Wait a minute. If you’re in love with Sally, why are you inviting me to her party?”

“Because you’re beautiful, Carrie. If I arrive with you on my arm it’ll make Sally insanely jealous. In fact, every man there will be jealous. One look at you, and the other men will toss Sally aside like yesterday’s newspaper. I’ll have her all to myself, don’t you see? She loves the thrill of conquering men’s hearts. And she always wants what she can’t have. If I bring you to the party, I’ll win her heart and destroy the competition in one simple stroke.”

“Get up,” I repeated, pulling him onto the sofa beside me. “Your plan will never work.”

“It will! I know it will! Please say you’ll help me. I’ll do anything you want in return.”

“Anything?” If I had Jonathan in my debt, maybe I could bargain with him on Tessie and Josiah’s behalf. I dreaded the thought of socializing with strangers at a Christmas party, but I made up my mind to do it for Tessie’s sake. “All right,” I said. “I’ll help you on one condition. I’m going to give you a booklet, and you have to promise me that you’ll read it. And that you’ll really think about what it says and not simply get angry and toss it aside.”

“Sure, I’ll do anything.” I gave him one of my tracts and he stuffed it into his coat pocket without even glancing at it. Then Jonathan fairly raced to the door, obviously eager to leave before I changed my mind.

“I’ll pick you up for Sally’s party at eight o’clock on Saturday,” he called. Then he left again as if carried away by a whirlwind.

On the evening of Sally St. John’s party, I put several pamphlets in my reticule before leaving home, planning to give one to every gentleman who asked to dance with me. If I didn’t convert anyone, at least the tracts might scare away unwanted suitors.

Sally’s ornate house in the fashionable Court End district was enormous, glittering with all the trappings of great wealth. As our carriage stopped beneath the
porte cochere,
a half-dozen liveried servants rushed out to assist us.

“Are you sure you aren’t in over your head, Jonathan?” I asked.

“She’s filthy rich, I know. Her family owns a couple of flour mills, and who knows what else. But I don’t care a thing about her money. Her father can keep all of it. I just want Sally.”

“That’s very noble, but how will you ever afford to keep Sally in the style to which she’s accustomed? I mean, Hilltop is nice, but it’s nothing like this.”

Jonathan wasn’t listening. He had spotted Sally, greeting her guests in the soaring entrance hall. Behind her, a sweeping staircase decked in candles and greenery seemed to float toward the second floor with nothing supporting it.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Jonathan sighed.

She was. Sally St. John wore a magnificent gown of rosecolored silk that must have taken twenty yards of cloth. It dipped daringly low off her shoulders, revealing skin like white rose petals. Her hair was the color of honey, and her vivacious green eyes sparkled like the jewels around her neck. My face was probably just as pretty as Sally’s, but my shyness made me seem cold and withdrawn. Sally’s vibrant personality, her effortless warmth and bubbling charm, made her irresistibly beautiful.

“Why, Jonathan Fletcher,” she exclaimed when she spotted him. “I’m so glad you could come!” He might have been the honored guest the entire party had been waiting for.

“Merry Christmas, Sally.” Jonathan acted very cool as he gallantly kissed her hand. I saw no sign of the lovesick boy who’d come to me begging on one knee.

“Who is this
darling
girl you’ve brought with you?” she asked as she sized me up. I didn’t see “darling” in her eyes. Sally had the alert look of a competitor at a sporting event, eyeing her opponent before dashing off for the prize. I was amazed to discover that Jonathan had been right; Sally was jealous of me. His plan just might work.

“This is my dear friend Caroline,” he replied. “She’s been attending school in Philadelphia for the last few years and has finally returned home to stay.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Sally said. But she wasn’t.

It was probably Jonathan’s plan to make Sally think we were sweethearts. And although it would have been perfectly acceptable for first cousins to court each other or even to marry, I noticed he hadn’t told her my last name or that I was his cousin. He and Sally talked for a moment about mutual acquaintances and events I knew nothing of. Then he quickly turned his full attention back to me.

“I’m so sorry, darling. Forgive me for boring you. I promised that you would have me all to yourself tonight, and you will.”

As Jonathan and I moved toward the drawing room, Sally caught his arm. She wore a sweet, strained smile on her lips, a green glint of jealousy in her eyes. “You will save one dance for me, won’t you, Jonathan?”

“If Caroline will let me.” He smiled at me, not her, and we swept into the ballroom.

The servants had moved most of the furniture out of the vast drawing room and transformed it into a ballroom. I’d never seen such an opulent room before, or such a high-ceilinged one, even in Philadelphia. Acres of fringed silk draperies, swags, and jabots adorned the windows. Plasterwork embellishments in the latest neoclassical designs decorated the walls. Brilliantly patterned carpeting stretched from wall to wall, and four huge chandeliers, each bearing dozens of candles and hundreds of crystal prisms, bathed the glittering room with light.

“I never realized what a clever actor you are,” I whispered as Jonathan took me into his arms to dance.

“It’s working. Sally is jealous, isn’t she? Now, Caroline, don’t be angry with me, but when the time is right, I’ll need to leave you and dance with her, just one time. Is that all right?”

“Did you read the booklet I gave you?”

He struck his forehead with his fist dramatically. “The booklet! Forgive me, Caroline, but I was so excited about tonight that all I could think about was Sally. I promise I’ll read it the moment I get home.”

Jonathan was such a charming clown it was impossible to be cross with him. As an escort, he was much more suave and dashing than Robert had been, and as the evening progressed, I never once regretted my decision to accompany him. Jonathan and I danced together, explored Sally’s gardens and the first floor of her house, spied on the other couples, and sampled the canapés and fruit punch. The evening reminded me of our adventures on the plantation when we were young, only now we were dressed in formal evening clothes.