Midnight Rose (10 page)

Never again would he allow himself to become so bewitched by a woman that he’d lose all control. Yet he knew he had to have Erin Sterling, and by God, he’d find a way to do so.

He returned to where he’d left his horse, rode away so deep in thought he didn’t notice the Negro boy and the white woman watching from the wagon at the edge of the woods.

Arlene Tremayne withdrew the handkerchief she’d been pressing tightly against her lips for long moments to stifle the sepulchral cough. Despite her misery, she managed a wan smile.

She motioned to Ben to start the horses for home.

She’d seen everything she needed to see.

Now she could begin to make her wish come true—if God would spare her a little bit longer.

Chapter Six

“He
knows Letty has been sneaking up to
your room,” Arlene bluntly informed Erin, not looking up from her tatting. They were in the sewing room, and she’d seen Zachary ride out earlier and knew they could talk without him eavesdropping, as he was prone to do.

Defiantly, Erin replied, “So what? I invited her, Mother. Letty is my friend. There’s nothing wrong with her coming to my room and talking.”

“You know it’s forbidden.”

Erin had been standing at the window, gazing out at the rolling green lawn dotted with leafy pecan and magnolia trees. Billowy clouds in a turquoise sky provided a canopy for the perfect afternoon. She wanted to go riding, but where? She’d have to find a different trail, because she wouldn’t be at all surprised to find Ryan waiting for her at the millstream, despite her explosion yesterday. She sensed he was the kind of man who was used to getting what he wanted, and after a sleepless night of tossing and turning, she had to admit she was afraid—not of him, but herself, because when he held her, kissed her, it was all she could do to resist, and—

“Erin, are you listening to me?” Arlene asked sharply.

Torn from her agitated thoughts, Erin looked at her mother and shrugged. “What do you want me to say? Letty is my friend, and I don’t think it’s right that Zachary objects, just because she’s colored.”

“It’s not only that. She’s a servant, dear, and she has to remember her place, just as you should remember yours.” Arlene hated having to talk that way, because she certainly didn’t feel that way, but for Erin’s sake, and also for Letty’s, she had to try and make her understand the social impropriety of their relationship.

Stubbornly, Erin persisted, “I still don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“Zachary does, and I hate to tell you this, but I think he’s determined to put a stop to it, which means he’ll sell Letty.”

“No!” Erin cried in horror as she hurried to kneel before her mother. “You can’t let him do that! Not Letty!”

“There’s nothing I can do to stop him.” She laid aside her tatting to reach and cup Erin’s face with loving hands. “But if you’ll promise me it won’t happen again, that you’ll forget about being friends with her, regard her as a servant and nothing more, then I’ll do my best to persuade him to give you one more chance to obey his wishes.”

Erin clasped her mother’s hands, pressed them against her lips, then stood and moved to the window once more as she thought about the futility of it all. If Ryan’s interest had gone beyond his lust, and he had eventually proposed, a lot of problems could have been solved. Now, sadly, that hope was dashed. So what did the future hold? Everything suddenly seemed bleak, dismal.

Arlene was watching her intently. When she’d overheard her telling Letty of her planned rendezvous with Ryan Youngblood, she’d had Ben take her to spy on them in hopes of confirming they were falling in love. Instead, though she couldn’t hear what they were saying, she knew she had witnessed an argument of some sort. Erin had left in a huff, and Ryan appeared vexed. But Arlene wasn’t giving up. Oh, no; she had the ammunition she needed to induce him to propose to Erin, and that’s exactly what she intended to do—after she attempted to save Letty from the auction block. Gingerly, she prompted, “If you don’t promise, then Letty is as good as gone.”

But Erin wasn’t listening; instead she was set on venting long-held resentments. She’d hated slavery from the time she’d been old enough to understand what it meant. “It’s not fair. It’s not right. Oh, why couldn’t Virginia have been a free state?” She threw up her hands in agitation. “All the debate in Congress over trying to balance free states with slave states isn’t going to solve anything. It’s still cruel to hold people in bondage. And if Virginia hadn’t been admitted to the union as a slave state, this nightmare wouldn’t be happening.”

“Erin, you aren’t being realistic. I don’t like it any more than you do, but the divide on the slavery issue is only becoming wider. Industry in the North is growing,” Arlene said, “while the South just becomes more and more dependent on agriculture for survival. The use of slave labor is the basis of that survival, cruel though it may be. That’s the way it is, the way it always will be, and poor Negroes like Letty are slaves, and all we can do is try to make their lives a little bit easier every chance we get.”

“My father didn’t own slaves. You told me that.”

A dreamy smile touched Arlene’s lips at the thought of the man she had loved with all her heart. Marriage to Jacob Sterling had been the only true happiness she’d ever known. “No, he sure didn’t, but you have to remember he wasn’t a farmer; he was a fisherman. I told you how we lived in a shanty by the ocean near Charleston. We didn’t have much except each other, and then you, but that was enough for us.”

“You told me once he didn’t believe in slavery.”

“That’s true. If he’d owned a hundred acres of cotton, I think he’d have let it rot in the fields if he couldn’t afford to pay pickers. He would never have used slaves.”

“And Zachary?” Erin prompted. “Did you know he had slaves when you married him?”

A shadow crossed Arlene’s face as she bit back the response that there was actually a lot she hadn’t known about Zachary Tremayne back then. “He told me he had a large plantation, and I suppose that implied as much, but I didn’t want to believe anything in those days except that I loved him, and he loved me, and that you and I were going to escape poverty to live in luxury in Virginia. Your father hadn’t been dead very long, remember, and I was having a terrible time eking out a living at the waterfront. I cut bait, scrubbed floors, begged for handouts when there was no money at all. Then Zachary came along one day and decided he wanted me, then and there.

“It was only later,” she went on dismally, “that I found out things weren’t going to be as wonderful as I’d dared to hope, but then there’s never anything certain in life.”

Erin bit down on her lip thoughtfully. At the time, she knew her mother had truly been desperate—a starving, penniless widow with a baby depending on her for survival. She could easily understand how her mother had allowed herself to be swept off her feet by a wealthy man. Still, she was compelled to find out. “What if he hadn’t proposed? What if, instead, he’d asked you to just be his mistress?”

“His mistress?” Arlene echoed, eyebrows rising. “Why would he want me for his mistress if he didn’t have a wife?”

Carefully, with a flippant shrug as though she weren’t really serious, Erin said, “Well, you said you were begging, scrubbing floors. That’s not exactly the kind of background a rich man looks for in a wife, is it? So, if he felt you weren’t good enough, but still found you beautiful, desirable, wanted you just for his mistress, what would you have said?”

Suddenly, Arlene was struck by what she suspected might be Erin’s motivation in asking such a question. Could it possibly have something to do with the scene she’d witnessed yesterday? She’d got there late, yet saw them lying on the ground embracing, kissing, just before Erin appeared to become upset; angry. Embarrassed Ben should see her daughter in such a situation, she’d made him turn his head and look the other way.

“Well, what would you have done?” Erin persisted when her mother didn’t respond, just sat there looking at her, her mind a million miles away.

Taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she carefully framed her answer, Arlene finally pronounced, “I can’t say, because it didn’t happen. I suppose, however, I’d have held out for the respectability and security of marriage, even though it would’ve been a tempting offer due to my situation. I would’ve thought how once I relegated myself to being his mistress, I’d have been at his mercy. He could’ve kicked me out any time he chose, and then what would I have done? As I said, it hasn’t all been apple pie and peaches as his wife, but at least I had some security.”

Erin nodded, for that was her way of thinking also.

Arlene knew then her suspicion was correct. Ryan had asked Erin to meet him at the stream, instead of properly calling, because breaking his engagement to Ermine Coley was the farthest thing from his mind. He wanted a mistress, and when he’d let that fact be known, Erin had balked. Good for her, Arlene thought with pride, washed with relief to have figured out this new development. Now she had another weapon to help her achieve her ultimate goal.

Wanting to end the conversation so she could move on with her plan, Arlene suggested, “Why don’t you run along, take your afternoon ride? Zachary will be back later this evening, and I’ll talk to him then, see if I can persuade him to change his mind.”

Erin couldn’t hold back any longer and cried, “He beats his slaves, you know!”

Arlene winced. “I know, but there’s nothing I can do. Nothing you can do.” With a sigh, she suggested, “Maybe Letty would be better off if she were sold to another family. Maybe her life would be a bit easier.”

“But what about Rosa? She doesn’t know what happened to her sons as it is. If Letty is taken away too, it’ll finish breaking her heart. No.” She shook her head firmly, adamantly. “That can’t happen. I won’t let it happen. You tell Zachary I’ve sworn to you the friendship has ended. I’ll have nothing more to do with Letty except as a—a slave.” She spat the word contemptuously.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way. I can’t even guarantee that my telling him will make him change his mind.”

“How did he find out she was slipping into my room, anyway? What was he doing prowling around the house in the middle of the night?” Oh, how she ached to come right out and tell her mother what a true fiend he really was.

Arlene felt a wave of guilt. If she hadn’t been prowling around herself, eavesdropping to try and hear what Erin was telling Letty about Ryan Youngblood, Zachary probably wouldn’t have found out. She could only say, “It’s his house. He has a right to do anything he wants to in it.”

Erin gritted her teeth. Her mother didn’t know just how far he thought that right extended. She knew what he was up to. No doubt, he’d been lurking outside her door, gathering nerve to attack. He’d heard Letty’s voice, knew she wasn’t alone, and now he wanted to get rid of Letty so he wouldn’t have to worry about her next time. Well, by God, she fumed, if he did sell Letty, and he did find a way into her room, he’d live to regret it—if he lived at all! She wasn’t hiding that knife under her mattress just to threaten. She’d use it if it came to that. “You have my word,” she said finally. “Do what you can.”

Erin left, shoulders slumped, deep in thought over what to do if Zachary did indeed put her beloved friend on the auction block. What could she do?

If only, she reflected sadly, Ryan had wanted to marry her, everything would have worked out. She’d found him handsome, appealing, warm, and sensitive—enjoyable company. Drawn to him, she knew he would’ve been so easy to love, and she’d have found a way, somehow, to make him love her.

Now, she could only feel loathing, due to his insult and humiliation.

And never would she forgive, nor forget.

Ryan sat in his favorite leather chair, feet propped on the table before him. He chewed an unlit cheroot absently as he stared into the clean-swept fireplace. A half-empty bottle of whiskey at his elbow, he’d lost track of time. What difference did it make, anyway, he moodily reflected, how long he retreated to his study? Jasmine Hill was still efficiently run by competent overseers. There wasn’t anything for him to do, except ride into Richmond for another wild, passionate night with Corrisa, or any one of a dozen other eager doxies. But he didn’t want them. What he did want, he contemplated with narrowed eyes, was Erin Sterling.

She was beautiful. Gold-dusted eyelashes brushing gently against peach-colored cheeks, her lovely ebony hair falling softly about her face. Her breasts firm, pointing. Her incredibly long and curvaceous legs. Perfect, rounded buttocks that ached to be caressed. Erin was the finest woman he had ever seen, the lushest, most appealing body he had ever held in his arms. Feeling a tightening in his loins, he knew he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life. He wanted to enter her and stay there until everything in him was drained into her. He wanted her beside him through the night, every night. He wanted to kiss those pouting lips into submission, make her want him every bit as damn much as he wanted her.

He reached for the bottle, took a swig. Several drinks ago he’d stopped bothering with a glass. Now, as the afternoon sun began to move toward early evening, shadows were creeping about the room. He didn’t care, didn’t give a damn for anything right then except trying to figure out what kind of game Erin was playing. She knew, damn it, she didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of ever marrying into wealth or prominence. Her mother knew that, too, or else she’d never have been so desperate as to push her way into the Rose Ball. But it hadn’t worked, and now what else was there for her? As he saw it, she had two options: marry anybody that would have her, which meant the lower class, or live a life of luxury as someone’s mistress.