Storm Clouds Rolling In (38 page)

Thomas spoke smoothly, not wishing to offend his host.
“Carrie has always had an interest in politics. I have seen no reason to discourage it. Many times she helps me see things more clearly.”

The ringing of the dinner bell saved him from further discussion.
He didn’t expect his older friend to understand.

Carrie enjoyed the meal with the Linds but kept a close eye on the clock.
Robert, too, watched the timepiece in his pocket, and after an hour of easy conversation, he pushed back from the table. “I’m sorry to end such a delightful meal, but if we are to make our performance tonight, we must be going.”

Carrie flashed him a look of gratitude.
             

“Oh, are you attending a performance at the Marshall Theat
re tonight?”             

Robert shook his head and smiled easily at his attractive host.
“Not tonight, Mrs. Lind. Our tickets are for Metropolitan Hall.”

Carrie almost smiled at the slightly patronizing air she assumed.
She was well aware that well-bred Virginians considered the lighter amusement of Metropolitan Hall to be somewhat below their cultured refinement. “I am quite looking forward to it, Mrs. Lind,” Carrie interjected as she stood from her place at the table.

“I’m sure you are, dear.”
Mrs. Lind managed to keep her voice pleasant.

Carrie exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Robert and found herself feeling once again the glow of excitement that being with him brought.
He was everything she had ever thought a man would be. Doubt raised its ugly head as a vision of the night before flashed in her head, but she resolutely pushed it away.

Dusk had deepened the shadows of the city.
Gaslights flickered and glowed with light as Carrie and Robert rolled down the street in her father’s carriage with Miles driving. She listened as Robert played tour guide.              

“Metropolitan Hall used to be the First Presbyterian Church.
When its congregation moved to a new building, it was bought and turned into a theater.”

Carrie was content to sit quietly and listen.
She was tired from her day on the river, but looked forward to the night.

“Have you ever been to a panorama?” Robert asked.
Her blank look answered his question. “You’re in for a treat,” he grinned. “It’s somewhat like a large painting that is slowly unwound. There is usually wonderful music and a lecture.”

The carriage rolled to a stop, and Carrie looked up in appreciation at the smart two-story brick structure with its charming third
-story cupola adorning the front. She felt the magic of the day envelope her once again as she glided up the steps at Robert’s side. Admiring glances told her they made a dashing couple.

The evening passed in a haze of delight.
It was easy to understand why panoramas were so popular—ancient cities, ruins, sea views, moonlight, winter and summer scenes, fire, and volcanic eruptions came to life as the music swelled around them. Lifelike scenes of midnight mass at the Milan Cathedral and Belshazzar’s Feast at the court of Babylon highlighted the show. A lively lecture kept them absorbed in what they were seeing. Finally, as the last scene unfurled and the music died, Carrie reluctantly came back to the present.

“What a wonderful day
,” Carrie murmured as she leaned back against the carriage seat.

Just then a flurry of movement on the sidewalk drew her attention.
She looked up in time to see a poorly dressed black man forced from the sidewalk by a large group of commonly dressed white laborers. He stumbled and almost fell into one of the many carriages still clogging the streets at this late hour. Carrie gasped and then breathed a sigh of relief as he regained his balance and stepped back to safety.

“Hey nigger! Don’t you know the sidewalks are for white people?” one of them yelled.
He stepped down from the sidewalk, his brawny height towering over the slightly built black man.

“Miles!
Stop!” Carrie commanded. She sensed Robert turn to her in protest, but he didn’t say anything. Carrie watched as the black man kept his eyes resolutely on the ground and began to amble off down the road.

“Hey, you!” the
antagonist yelled, moving to block the other man’s path. “I ain’t done with you yet. You ain’t showed me your pass to be out on the streets.” He looked up, became aware of his audience, and took on a more swaggering tone. “Let’s see the pass, nigger.”

Wordlessly, the black man reached into his pockets and pulled out the demanded piece of paper.
Slowly, he handed it over and waited while the larger man looked at it.

“This says you’re a free man, nigger.
That true?” He leered at the black man. “Yeah, well, don’t be too sure you’re gonna stay that way. Niggers ain’t good for nothing but to be slaves.” He shoved the piece of paper at him and snarled, “Get going, nigger. And stay out of my way.” He watched while the man pocketed his paper and resumed his travel, careful to stay in the streets and away from the offending sidewalk. The white man looked up in triumph at his audience. Carrie fixed him with as withering of a gaze as she could manage. Discomfited the abuser looked down, muttered a curse, and then joined his friends on the sidewalk. “Let’s go, boys.”

Silence fell on the carriage.
Carrie said nothing when Miles quietly moved the horses along without a command from her.

“Is something wrong with my daughter?”

Both Thomas and Robert stared up the steps after Carrie’s retreating back. She had thanked Robert very graciously for a wonderful day but had chosen to retire to her room instead of joining the two men for a cup of hot tea.

Robert shrugged helplessly.
“Just when I think I have her figured out...”

“Ah
.” Thomas took the younger man’s arm and led him to a secluded table in the almost deserted restaurant. “There is your first mistake, my boy. Some women you may figure out. Not Carrie. She will always surprise you.”

Robert nodded.
“That’s one of the things that intrigues me, sir.” He paused for a long moment before he finally looked into Thomas’s eyes. “I love your daughter, sir.”

Thomas nodded and smiled gently.
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

“You don’t mind, sir?”

Thomas laughed. “What
I
think doesn’t really matter. But no, I don’t mind. I think you’re a fine young man.” He paused. “You have your work cut out for you, though. Carrie is an independent spirit.”

Robert nodded.
“You don’t need to tell me that. It’s another one of the things I love about her...”

“But...”

“But we seem to keep butting heads on a single issue.” The frustration in Robert’s voice was keen. Thomas waited quietly while the younger man searched for the right words. “It’s the slavery issue, Mr. Cromwell. I think your daughter is planning on becoming an abolitionist,” he said dramatically.

Thomas laughed heartily.
“Hardly that, Robert! My Carrie may be questioning some things, but she will ultimately come out on the side of what is right. She will understand that however unpleasant it may be at times, it is our destiny to be in control of the slaves.”

“Do you really think so, sir?
I have hopes she is just going through a stage.” He paused for another long moment. “I hope to make her my wife someday, sir,” he blurted, “but she will have to be willing to accept the condition of slavery on my plantation. That is how I have always lived, and I have no intention of changing it now.”

Thomas eyed the younger man perceptively.
“It could make life as a plantation owner very difficult if your wife was at odds with you over our peculiar institution,” he said dryly.

Robert nodded and continued.
“She has many dreams, sir. I don’t know what will become of my love for her.” Then he straightened and said firmly, “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, Mr. Cromwell.”

Thomas heard the slightly desperate tone of his voice, but chose not to comment on that.
His heart went out to the handsome young man sitting across from him. Thomas would listen, but he wouldn’t interfere. Carrie would make up her own mind.
As she always had
, he thought wryly. He leaned across the table and abruptly changed the topic. “I bought a house today.”

Robert blinked at him in surprise.
“A house, sir?”

Thomas nodded.
“A three-story brick on Church Hill.” He answered the unspoken question in Robert’s eyes. “I have promised Governor Letcher I will do all I can to help control the secessionism craze sweeping the South. I will do what I can from the plantation, but I’m sure there is going to be an increased need for me to be in Richmond. It made sense for me to buy a house.”

Robert waited, watching him closely.

Thomas paused, well aware Robert hadn’t bought his story. Finally he shrugged. “If there’s trouble... If all this foolishness leads us into a war, I want Carrie and her mother to have a safe place to live. I’m afraid the plantation would not provide that for them.”

The two men stared into their cups as they let their thoughts engulf them.