Midnight Rose (6 page)

He looked forward to giving Erin Sterling pleasure. In fact, he was anticipating many good times with her once she was established as his mistress. He’d be discreet, of course, but he’d make sure she was lavishly provided for. A small house in Richmond, perhaps, so the times he couldn’t be with her due to his family or his business, she could find entertainment dining out, going to the theater, with escorts he’d provide, of course. He would see to it she lacked for nothing, that she had the most exquisite clothes, jewelry, any luxury she desired. He’d arrange servants, too, as many as she wanted.

Templing his fingers, Ryan looked through them, framing the lush, rolling pastures outside the window, thought how unfortunate it was he couldn’t share his own treasures with her. She struck him as the type who’d enjoy horseback riding, farm and plantation life. A shame it would be to tuck her away in the confines of the city, in order to render her available whenever he wanted or needed her, but that’s the way it was, the way it had to be. He’d try to take her with him when he traveled as often as it could be arranged, because after talking with her only briefly, he could tell she’d make a good companion.

Companion.

He smiled to himself.

Mistress.

Erin was the perfect choice.

Just as Ermine was the right pick for a wife, he supposed resignedly. She was good blood. They’d produce fine children. He knew nothing about Erin’s background. In fact, the only thing he did know about her was that she set him on fire, and he had to have her, damn it.

“You aren’t listening to a word I’ve said!”

Keith’s sharp, indignant cry brought him out of his reverie, and he glanced at him, shook his head, and admitted, “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I was asking,” Keith said, “whether you thought Christmas would be too soon for me to marry Mary Susan, because I thought it’d be nice if we made it a double wedding with you and Ermine.”

“That sounds fine,” he said, though he didn’t know what he really thought, because he just wasn’t concerned with Keith and his problems. What he wanted to concentrate on was how to approach Erin. Hell, as eager as her mother was to find her a husband, he couldn’t just go charging over there and knock on the door as if he were commencing to court her officially. There had to be another way, a way to get the message across to Erin, who certainly had left the impression she was interested in anything but matrimony. That left only the position of mistress. She was smart. She’d catch on quickly—if he could just get to her.

Keith, watching him with narrowed, suspicious eyes, finally accused, “You’re thinking about Erin Sterling, aren’t you?” Without giving him a chance to confirm or deny, he continued, “Now’s as good a time as any for me to tell you I think you should know people are talking. In church this morning, I overheard several of the women talking about that dance you were doing last night, though the criticism was more with whom you were doing it with.”

Regarding him coolly, Ryan said, “She happens to be gorgeous, Keith, in case you were blind to everyone but Mary Susan. And she certainly can’t help who her stepfather is. Tell me, what do you know about her? I mean, where did her mother come from? What’s her family background?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Keith replied with an absent wave. He wanted to talk about Mary Susan, not some brazen female who’d dare go where she wasn’t invited. “Not from around here. South Carolina, I think I heard someone say a long time ago.”

“Well, I’ve never heard much about Zachary Tremayne, but you seem to know a lot, from what you were saying last night, implying he’s into illegal slave trading.”

“You’ve been away. He only got involved after America made it illegal, like I told you. Up till then he was just a rich plantation owner with no class or background and was just ignored. Still is. The same for his wife. Arlene, her name is. A very sweet woman. I know her from church, and when Lareina died, she was very kind, came to visit and brought me food long after everyone else had gone back to their own affairs and was no longer concerned with my grief. But none of that matters when it comes to being accepted socially, Ryan. You know that. So, get Erin off your mind. She’s pretty, but she’s not our kind.”

“Depends on what I’ve got in mind for her.”

“And that would be?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“As you said yourself,” Ryan gave a lazy grin, “maybe they should have presentation balls for potential mistresses…and maybe we actually went to one last night.”

Keith joined him with a smirk of his own. “I’m beginning to understand.”

“Good. So tell me. Does Erin go anywhere that I might be able to run into her so it looks like a chance meeting?” He related his fears of calling formally, lest her mother jump to conclusions.

Keith obliged by telling him he’d seen Erin riding by the mill stream that fed into the James River at the southeast corner of the Tremayne plantation. “Before Tremayne won that adjoining tract in a poker game, which, I heard, he cheated to win, Pete Dabnem owned it, had a grist house there for grinding corn. Tremayne shut it down, ran everybody off, posted signs. I used to like to fish there, but he’s such a maniac, I was afraid he’d shoot me if I kept going, so I moved up farther. But I can still see his place as I’m coming or going across the ridge. Twice, I’ve seen Erin headed there on horseback.”

“Late in the day?”

“Around four o’clock.”

Ryan nodded to himself. Now he knew how he would make first contact.

Chapter Four

After several days of drizzling rain and
overcast skies, Arlene relished the afternoon of sunshine and cool breezes. She could breathe better in fresh air, didn’t cough as much, so she stayed outdoors as often as weather permitted.

Concentrating on her tatting as she sat on the front porch, she hummed to herself, rocking gently to and fro. Maybe with the nice weather, she mused, Ryan Youngblood would come calling. If not, then maybe she’d have to be so bold as to send Roscoe to Jasmine Hill with a written invitation to tea. When she’d mentioned that possibility to Erin at breakfast only that morning, she’d been surprised that she hadn’t protested, actually appeared to approve the idea, though she hadn’t come right out and said so. The fact was, she seemed to have mellowed a bit since the ball, didn’t seem quite so defiant, though she did appear to be deep in thought about something. But when asked if there was anything she’d like to talk about, she’d said not. Arlene had noticed, however, that she and Letty seemed to have picked up where they left off in their friendship. She’d seen Letty slipping up the back stairs after dark, despite Zachary’s decree that no servants, except Roscoe, were allowed indoors at night. He didn’t trust them, he said, and Arlene didn’t blame him. They all hated him, would probably love to stick a knife in his throat as he slept. She didn’t blame
them,
either. Not that she was prone to violence or condoned it. She just candidly acknowledged they hated him, had good reason to. But it worried her about Letty and Erin getting chummy again. Zachary had made it very clear he didn’t approve, and she feared he’d take drastic steps if he found out.

Rosa came out on the porch with a glass of cool lemonade topped with a sprig of fresh mint. Arlene felt a special bond with Rosa, who also happened to be Letty’s mother. In fact, it was at her urging Zachary had bought the two at a slave auction in Wilmington. They hadn’t been married but a few days and were heading for Richmond and her new home. Passing through the coastal North Carolina town, Zachary had heard there was a big auction going on, because a slave ship had just arrived from Africa. He’d told her it was a good opportunity for her to pick out some household help of her own liking.

She hadn’t wanted to go, hated the idea of bidding on people, buying them as if they were no more than cattle, but dared not say so, any more than she’d expound on her hatred for slavery in general. But he’d insisted, and then when she’d seen Rosa standing there on the block, her heart had melted. The auctioneer, callous bastard that he was, had stripped her naked, made her turn around in front of the hundreds of spectators, most of them men. “A good breeder!” he’d bellowed matter-of-factly, pointing at her wide hips and large breasts with the crop of his whip. “Already got a pickaninny, too.” He pointed to Letty, who was still a baby, clinging to her mother’s legs in terror as she stared out at the sea of impassive faces. She had no way of knowing what was happening to her. The auctioneer had then barked, “She’s bound to be a strong one. It ain’t too often pickaninnies survive the voyage.”

Something had struck Arlene right in her heart as she’d witnessed the pathetic scene. Perhaps it was the fact that she had a baby daughter too, or maybe her reaction was provoked by her own close-locked secret. She knew only that she wanted to spare that wretched woman and her pitiful child any more humiliation. Clutching Zachary’s arm, she’d whispered, “Please. Buy them.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, I guess I could use a good breeder.” Then he made a bid so high everyone else backed off. When they left Wilmington, Rosa and her baby rode on top of the carriage, crowded in among the luggage and trunks. No amount of begging from Arlene could move Zachary to allow them to ride inside, out of the broiling hot sun.

Rosa had gone on to have three healthy sons whom Zachary had sold, and it was only due to Arlene’s constant, desperate pleas that he’d not done the same with Letty. She intended to remind Erin about that, as a warning that he might now sell Letty if he found out the two were renewing their intimacy.

Rosa had begun to water the potted ferns that lined the porch. They both looked up curiously as they heard the sound of a rider coming up the road. Shading her eyes with one hand, Rosa speculated, “That looks like Mastah Zachary. If it is, he sho is comin’ in fast.”

Arlene saw it was indeed her husband, and tensed instinctively. She’d thought he’d be back the night before, and when he hadn’t returned, knew he’d probably stayed over in town to get liquored up. She had no idea where he went on his business trips, as he called them. Actually, she didn’t want to know, fearing he was up to no good. All she knew was that whatever he was doing, it made him a lot of money. Now, however, she’d have to cope with him either being sick from drinking all night, or, worse, he’d still be drunk. Getting to her feet slowly, she walked to the edge of the porch in fearful anticipation of what she’d have to deal with.

Rosa had started to go back inside, then hung back out of curiosity, sensing something was wrong.

Zachary reined in his horse so hard, the animal reared up in panic before landing on all fours to stomp about in agitation as he quickly dismounted. He threw the reins at Ben, who’d rushed from the stable at the sound of his galloping approach. Arlene saw at once he was not only drunk, he was livid with rage.

“You!” He pointed at Rosa, who had frozen where she stood. “Get inside. You know I can’t stand you eavesdroppin’.”

She rushed to obey, daring only to throw a sympathetic glance at her mistress.

Arlene was also frightened but mustered the bravado to meet his fiery glare. He was tall, heavy-set, with a big barrel chest. Heavily bearded, he had the eyes of a snake, and she wondered how she could ever have found him even remotely attractive. But that had been years ago, when heavy drinking hadn’t caused broken veins all over his nose, and just plain meanness hadn’t made him appear uglier than he actually was.

He didn’t like the arrogant way she was looking at him and gave her a rough shove that sent her stumbling backward into the rocker. The jolt set off a coughing spell, and as she covered her mouth with shaking hands, he bellowed, “Don’t start that goddamn barkin’ of yours. You know it drives me crazy.”

She tried to control herself, choked out the burning question, “What on earth is wrong with you? Dear God, you’re like a madman.”

“You’re damn right!” He squatted before her, looked up into her reddening face as she wheezed, tried to catch her breath. “I just came from Sully’s Tavern in town, and I heard how the whole county is laughin’ at you and Erin for showin’ up at the Rose Ball without bein’ invited. I should’ve known somethin’ was funny when you said you were, after all the years when you weren’t.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind, woman?” he raved on. “You think you can bull your way in and find a husband for Erin amongst them snotty, holier-than-thou, pompous asses?”

She drew in her breath slowly, trying to calm herself as she framed her answer carefully. “I knew it was just an oversight, a mistake, and we were really supposed to be on the invitation list, and—”

“Goddamn it, woman, that’s a lie, and you know it!” He struck at the air with his fist. “You’ve never been invited to a ball or a social in this county, and you never will be. Folks look down their noses at me, ’cause I work for a livin’. I didn’t come from a rich family to hand down wealth to me like those lazy, uppity sons of bitches. I had to work for everything I got. Folks can’t stand knowin’ that, and that’s why I’m shunned and always will be, and the sooner you and that high-minded daughter of yours realize that, the better off you’ll be.

“Furthermore,” he went on, nostrils flaring, cords standing out in his neck, “they were also talkin’ about what a spectacle Erin made of herself doin’ some kind of lewd dance with that rake, Ryan Youngblood. And you let her do it, so that makes you guilty as she is!”

“Guilty of what?” Arlene was slowly getting to her feet once more, ire rising despite her fear of him, intensified in that moment by the way he reeked with the odor of whiskey.