James knew his face registered surprise. His brows raised silently even as he asked, “And how would you know that, Miss Bryce?”
“Because like knows like.” She reached her hands out to the woodstove and grimaced. “This is not nearly as warm as the fireplace.”
“Yes, I know,” James replied. “It’s also not nearly so crowded.” He glanced to where no fewer than ten people stood huddled around the crackling flames in the hearth.
Annabelle seemed to consider this a moment before asking, “Are you staying long in Harper’s Ferry?”
“I’m not sure. There are some railroad problems, and I’ve come with Mr. Latrobe to see what can be done. If this blizzard insists on continuing, I suppose I might well be there until spring.”
Annabelle laughed. “Pity us all then, for we might well grow tired of each other if that be the case.”
“I doubt seriously people tire easily of you,” James said without thinking. He watched her face take on an expression of sheer delight.
“You are quite the charmer, I think,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Have you a wife and children or maybe a string of admiring young ladies?”
James frowned and tried not to think of his broken engagement to Virginia Adams. Quite easily, he pushed the image of her face aside and found the void filled with the memory of Carolina. “There is no one,” he answered, feeling as though he’d lied.
“I find that impossible to believe. But I will not pry. I myself have been married twice. My first husband was an actor. He died in a carriage accident only two years after we married. My second husband was a patron of the theater. He didn’t care for his wife continuing to travel around the world. We actresses are not always held in high regard, and so he wished only that I would allow the notoriety of my past to disappear from view and memory. We parted company two years ago, and he instantly sought a divorce.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. My reputation was already questionable.” She straightened her shoulders and jutted out her chin ever so slightly. The action instantly reminded James of Carolina. How stoic she could pretend to be when the need arose.
James didn’t know quite what to say. “So now you are alone?” he asked hesitantly.
“Hardly that!” she exclaimed, pushing aside any hint of melancholia. “I don’t think I’ve ever known a time in my life when I was alone.”
“Truly?”
“Truly. I grew up in a house of wealth and plenty. My father was a land baron and knew his business well. He could make money at anything; he had but to touch his hand to the matter, and it turned to gold.”
“King Midas, eh?” James asked with a chuckle.
“Exactly.” Her eyes took on a faraway look in her reflection of the past. “We were eight girls and three boys, and our parents were very loving and generous. There was never a moment of solitude to be had. When I fell in love with the theater and my actor-husband, my father and mother were appalled. No member of the Gainsborough family would dare to lower themselves to the level of becoming theater people. So I was disinherited by my old family, and the acting troupe became my new family.”
“So you married and changed your name as well?” James was already thinking of his own family problems. He had little doubt that his father had already disinherited him for his actions of the past.
She shook her head, causing strawberry blond curls to bob from side to side. “Annabelle Bryce is my name. I simply omitted the use of my last name.”
“I see.”
“I don’t think you do, or you’d not take on such a sorrowful tone,” she said softly. “I’m not unhappy with the way things have turned out. My husband and I had two happy years, and I’ve never known more pleasure and happiness than that which I’ve found with the theater. And I’m never alone, just as I told you. I have friends all over the world, and I have but to appear before them, and I’m treated as royalty.”
James had known similar welcomes. The Latrobes had taken him in for Christmas dinner and treated him as though he were one of the family. But the bur in his side remained that the very people he wanted to be welcomed by were the ones who despaired of him ever sullying their doorsteps again.
“Will you be staying with your sister?” he asked, suddenly realizing that he wanted to see Annabelle again.
“Yes, I suppose I will. She lives with her husband and four children, and she, like me, is an outcast in our family. Married beneath herself, don’t you see?” She raised this question with a glint of amusement. “Royalty must never stoop to marry a commoner. Even if you’re only pretend royalty.” She laughed and gave her head a little toss. “That’s really the funniest part of all. My parents are far better actors than I could ever hope to be. For you see, they have the entire world believing them to be something they are not. King and Queen Gainsborough and their little princesses and princes.”
Their sleigh was now ready for departure, and as the others moved outside, James smiled and offered his arm to Annabelle. “Your highness,” he said in mock respect, “might I escort you to your carriage?”
Annabelle’s laughter was like the tinkling of glass chimes. She tied the ribbons of her bonnet before linking her arm through James’ and simpered, “But of course, good sir. How very kind.”
“Perhaps when we have arrived in Harper’s Ferry, you will give me the honor of escorting you to dinner,” James said rather boldly. He liked this woman, and he found her company to be far more appealing than the isolation he’d imposed upon himself.
“The honor would be mine, sir.”
The funeral of Pennsylvania Adams was at first a quiet, somber affair. The cold weather had made digging the grave a difficult and nearly impossible task. Four of the larger male slaves had alternated with shovels and picks to penetrate the frozen earth. Carolina remembered watching the slaves work from her window and feeling a deep, abiding sorrow. Now as she stood beside the coffin that held her little sister, Carolina didn’t even try to hold back her tears. They were burying another child. A child who should have grown into adulthood and lived a life of many more years. A child who had brought to the family smiles and tears, pleasures and fears. A child who would be sorely missed by all.
Carolina stood several feet away from her mother and father, but her eyes were ever on them. Her mother’s face remained emotionless as the minister spoke of the hope of resurrection in Christ. Her appearance at the funeral had been uncertain, and Carolina was still rather surprised to find her in attendance.
When the slaves had come to dress Penny’s body for the laying out and burial, Margaret had adamantly refused to allow anyone near her little daughter. She remained, as she had for the months prior to Penny’s death, rigidly positioned at her daughter’s side. It had taken Joseph’s insistence that Penny be bathed and dressed to finally convince Margaret to leave the room.
What had followed afterward had been a confusing scene of hysteria and accusation. Margaret had returned to the nursery and, upon finding Penny gone, proceeded to tear the house apart in search. Finding her in the first-floor drawing room, laid out in a beautiful handmade coffin, had caused Margaret to fall away in a dead faint.
She seems not to even hear the words, Carolina thought, all the while watching her mother. The wind whipped at them mercilessly, causing the minister to hasten his eulogy.
“We commend the spirit of Pennsylvania Adams into the hands of Almighty God. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.” The minister spoke these words and tossed a handful of frozen dirt upon the casket.
“What is he saying?” Margaret suddenly questioned aloud.
All eyes turned to the woman, and without any embarrassment for this interruption, Margaret tugged at Joseph’s coat. “Where is Penny? Where is Mary?”
Joseph, eyes filled with compassion and tears, patted her hand gently. “They are no longer with us, my dear. Do you not remember?”
“What are you saying?” Her voice rose another level. She spied the casket as if for the first time. “You certainly haven’t put our daughters in there, have you?” She rushed forward before Joseph could stop her.
Margaret tried to lift the lid of the box, but it had already been nailed down. “Open this at once and let my babies out. Are you mad? They cannot hope to breathe for long in there. Mr. Adams, open this at once!”
The small congregation of friends and neighbors grew uncomfortable with the scene. Lucy Alexander, who had stood supportively between York and Carolina, reached out to pull Carolina closer. It was almost as if she hoped to shield Carolina from the reaction of her mother. Georgia broke into sobs anew and seemed to cry harder with each of Margaret’s words.
“You must open this box now!” Margaret screamed.
“My dear,” Joseph answered, putting his arm around her small shoulders. “Our Penny is gone. She cannot come back to us, and the funeral must be allowed to proceed.”
“Funeral! We cannot have a funeral!” She began to push away from Joseph and at the same time seemed intent on shedding her bonnet and coat. “I cannot believe you would do this,” she said, struggling with the knotted ribbons of her hat. Finally, she ripped the thing from her head and threw it to the ground.
By this time, York had left Lucy’s side and had joined his father. “Mother, you must calm down. Why don’t I take you upstairs?”
“I’m not leaving the children!”
Carolina felt Virginia’s gaze upon her and turned to find an expression of sheer hatred. There’d been no time to confront her sister with whatever injustices she held against Carolina, and it was clear that matters were no better now than they had been at Christmas. Had Virginia thought of a way to blame Carolina for Penny’s death as well as everything else?
Margaret’s screams filled the air, causing Carolina to quickly forget about Virginia. York and Joseph were trying to lead her from the services, but she would have no part of it. Fighting them both while hurling accusations and reprimands, Margaret was totally unaware of the spectacle she’d created.
Georgia was now quite hysterical, so Carolina left the comfort of Lucy and went to her sister. Pulling her into her embrace, Carolina sensed that Georgia was close to collapse.
“Come, we’ll get you inside.”
She led Georgia around to the back of the house in order to avoid their mother’s hideous display of grief. Georgia’s cheeks were reddened from the cold, and by the time they entered the kitchen, both girls were nearly frozen.
“I cannot bear it anymore,” Georgia said as Carolina helped her into a chair. “Mother is crazy and I fear her and I fear that I’ll die next. First Mary, then Penny, don’t you see? I’m the next in line. I’m only fourteen, Carolina!”
“Shhh. You hush now,” Carolina said, peeling off her bonnet and coat and soaking in the warmth of the kitchen stove. “You aren’t going to die. Penny has never been of a strong constitution. Even as a baby she was sickly. The fever was just too much for her. She was too little and frail.”
“But I’m not very much bigger,” Georgia protested. “I can’t stand it!” She put her gloved hands over her bonnet and clasped both to her ears. “Make it all stop!”
Carolina knew there were no words to comfort Georgia. She wrapped her arms around the quaking girl and held her tightly against her body. At first, Georgia remained stiff and unmoved, but gradually there was a softening of her body, a relaxing that signaled acceptance of the offered comfort.
“We must be strong for each other,” Carolina whispered. The only other sound was that of the crackling fire inside the stove. Naomi was still among the funeral attendees, and they had the kitchen to themselves. Dropping to her knees, Carolina wiped Georgia’s eyes with her kid gloves. Sorrowful blue eyes looked to Carolina with unspoken questions.
“It will not be easy with Mother,” Carolina finally said. “She might not even survive this. We will have to be steadfast, or the pain will be too much to deal with. Rest assured, Georgia, God will help us through.”
“I can’t rest assured in God. He seems so far from this house,” Georgia said bitterly.
“I know.” And indeed she did. Carolina thought of her own fragile faith—faith she’d only months before come to accept. If God truly loved them and was as merciful as her father claimed, then why were they burying an eleven-year-old child? And if God was almighty and all-knowing, why had their mother reacted the way she had? Why couldn’t God stop the demons that seemed to have taken over their mother’s weakened mind?
“I want to go away, Carolina. Please help me. If you don’t, I shall run away.”
The words were spoken so softly that Carolina almost missed them altogether. Georgia had never been one to ask for help, and now her request betrayed a sense of desperation.
“Would you talk to Father?” she went on. “I want to go live with Aunt Clara in her new house in Georgia. Or maybe even go abroad and be with Maine and Aunt Bertha in England.”
“Father has plans for finishing school,” Carolina offered. “There are some very fine finishing schools in Virginia, and perhaps we could suggest one that would take you away from this area.”
“Yes! That’s it! Father will never say no to that idea. Oh, please tell me that you’ll talk to him, Carolina. Please?”
“Of course I will. As I said, Father already has considered your need in this matter.” Georgia seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and Carolina hugged her close again. “See there, it will all work out to everyone’s benefit.”
“Everyone except Mother,” Georgia added.
Carolina sighed and nodded. “Yes, everyone except Mother.”