She was safe.
“Miss Lilah, is that you?”
Lilah whirled, her hand flying to her mouth as she tried to find Betsy through the darkness. The other girl had apparently been sleeping in one of the pair of chairs in front of the tall windows, waiting for her. She rose as Lilah’s eyes found her, her slim body silhouetted briefly against the lighter gray of the window before she stepped toward her mistress.
“Shhh, Betsy!”
“Where have you been? I’ve been almost crazy with worry, wonderin’ whether to wake the master, or Mr. Kevin. …”
“You didn’t, did you?” Lilah’s voice was sharp with fear.
“No, I didn’t, I figured that you might not want them to know where you’ve been. Did I do right?”
“Yes, Betsy, just right. How … how did you know I was gone?”
“I came up to bring you a cup of chocolate. Maisie fixed it, ‘cause she says you got too thin while you were on that island. But you weren’t here, and I was scared, not knowing what to do. I thought maybe those pirates had come back and got you, or …” Her voice faltered.
Betsy had moved to stand before the dressing table, and before Lilah realized what she was about she used flint and steel to light a lamp. Then she turned to look at her mistress. Suddenly self-conscious in the soft yellow glow, Lilah lifted a hand to her bosom. Betsy took in that gesture, took in the disordered hair and swollen mouth, the less than complete toilette, and her eyes grew huge.
“You’ve been with that man, haven’t you?” It was more a shocked gasp than a question. Lilah stared at her maid for a long moment, swallowing nervously without replying. Betsy was her dearest friend, but this secret was something that could not be shared. One whisper of gossip and she and Joss were ruined. …
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Lilah said, turning her back and walking over to splash water on her face.
“Oh, yes, you do, Miss Lilah!” Betsy shook her head, her face taut with concern. “You been with that man, that one that’s got the touch of the tarbrush. That—Joss. I remember how you were about him from the first night you met him. What you tole the master and Mr. Kevin about him not touching you whilst you were shipwrecked was a lie, wasn’t it? You’ve done gone and let him bed you. Don’t you try to lie to me, Miss Lilah. I know you like I know myself!”
“Oh, Betsy, I know it’s bad but I can’t help it. I’m in love with him!” Lilah had to confess; Betsy did know her, all too well. She could never hide this from her.
Betsy sucked in her breath. They stared at each other, one with horror, the other with anguish. Then Betsy reached out to take Lilah by the shoulders, gave her a little shake. There was no more mistress and maid, only two old and loving friends.
“Miss Lilah, you can’t do this. You know you can’t. You can’t go sneakin’ down to the quarters, beddin’ with a man like that! You’re a lady! If the master were to find out, or Mr. Kevin …” Betsy broke off, and shuddered visibly.
“I know! But I love him! He—he wants me to run away with him. To marry him.” Lilah’s voice broke as tears sprang to her eyes. Betsy took one horrified look at her mistress’s white face, then folded the girl in her arms, rocking her gently against her.
“You are in a mess of trouble, aren’t you, honey? But you already know what you’ve got to do. You can’t see him anymore, you just can’t. As to marryin’ him—Miss Lilah, you might just as well think of marrying my Ben. It’s the same thing.”
Lilah lifted her head, pulled back a little from Betsy, a vivid picture of Ben, the plantation cobbler, appearing in her mind’s eye. He was good-natured, handsome, a skilled worker—and ebony black.
She shook her head. “No!”
“It’s the truth, Miss Lilah. You just don’t want to admit it. You been like that ever since you was a little girl, not wanting to see anything that didn’t suit you.”
Lilah’s chin came up. “Tell me something, Betsy—if Ben were white, would you still love him? Would you still want to be his woman?”
Betsy’s eyes widened as she thought this over. Then she shook her head in consternation. “I see what you mean. Oh, honey, I don’t know the answer. I only know
that you’re asking for a heap of misery and heartbreak if you don’t stop this.”
At the stubborn look on Lilah’s face, she folded her mistress close again, hugged her.
“Damn all men,” she muttered fiercely, Lilah, head resting tiredly on Betsy’s shoulder, was inclined to agree.
L
I
t was late afternoon of the following day. Lilah was sitting on the back verandah steps talking to Jane as her stepmother rocked nearby and did the delicate stitchery that adorned all her husband’s handkerchiefs. Lilah, who had never been any good at stitchery, sat with her hands clasped around her knees, feeling deliciously lazy in the somnolent heat. She would have been perfectly content with the world if it had not been for two things: her worry over what to do about Joss, and Jane’s topic of conversation. Her stepmother was intent on making plans for Lilah’s wedding.
“There’s no point in putting it off, is there, dear? Now that you’ve finally made up your mind to wed Kevin, I mean,”
Lilah cast her eyes out over the estate, touching on verdant grasses and bright pink bushes and, just visible over the tops of the fringed palms, the paddles of the windmill as they turned slowly with the breeze. If she hoped for any distraction that would let her turn the subject, however, she hoped in vain. Heart’s Ease was as peaceful as it always was at that time of day, before the men and the slaves came in from the fields, before the preparations started for supper.
“I just got home, Jane. So much has happened that I
really haven’t given much thought to … to getting married.”
“Well, it’s time you did then!” Jane said with a comfortable little laugh, looking up from her work to eye her stepdaughter. “Kevin loves you very much, you know. He was beside himself those weeks when you were lost.”
“Was he? I worried about him, too.”
“I think six weeks would give us enough time,” Jane decided.
“Six weeks!” Lilah was appalled. Jane looked at her, frowned.
“Are you getting bridal nerves already? My heaven, you will be in a state the night before! But don’t worry, dear, every woman feels like that before her wedding. After all, it’s a big step. Marriage is for life.”
“Oh, Jane—six weeks,” Lilah said faintly, feeling as if a trap were closing in around her. “I … I don’t know if I’ll be ready. …”
“Two months, then,” Jane said, as if the subject were closed. “That’s really better, anyway. It’ll give us time to have your dress made up—it’ll be the most beautiful dress any bride ever had, you’ll see. We’ll plan a lovely feast and invite everyone we know from all over the island. Your father’s told me to spare no expense, and I won’t. After all, how often does one’s only daughter get married?”
She stood up, workbasket in hand. “I must go in now, dear, I have things to see to in the house. Why don’t you go for a walk? I’d appreciate it if you’d fetch back a jug of syrup from the mill to pour over Maisie’s tildy-cake. Besides, I think Kevin might be over there. I know you haven’t seen much of him since you got home, but please don’t take it for lack of ardor on his part. You know how busy he and your father are in grinding season.”
Jane left, and Lilah sat where she was a moment
longer, her mind as active as her body was still as she tried to sort through the awful dilemma that confronted her. After all that had passed between herself and Joss, could she marry Kevin? It was the sensible thing to do—but the idea of permitting him the intimacies that Joss claimed appalled her.
Lilah jumped up, shaking out her skirt, and began to walk purposefully toward the mill. As Jane had pointed out, she hadn’t spent much time with Kevin in the week she’d been home. He’d been caught up in the work involved in grinding season, the plantation’s busiest time, while she … if truth were told, she’d been avoiding him.
If more truth were told, since she’d fallen in love with Joss, she could barely tolerate Kevin’s kisses, relatively chaste though she’d learned they were. And whenever they were alone, he seemed to always want to kiss her.
How was she going to stand being married to him?
This was the question she had to resolve, and soon. Soon enough to call off all the wedding plans that Jane was so happily hatching. Soon enough to put a stop to everything before it was too late.
Her life was suddenly so complicated. Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with Kevin instead of Joss? Kevin was kind, hardworking, fond of her, on excellent terms with her father. He was the perfect husband for her. What was wrong with her to prefer Joss with all his drawbacks to Kevin with all his assets?
Maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t tried hard enough to fall in love with Kevin. Maybe if she gave herself a chance …
Which was why she was walking toward the sugar mill. She meant to give herself every chance.
LI
T
he sugar mill was a scene of intense activity. A half dozen slaves were piling heaps of newly cut cane in front of the mill for crushing, while toward the rear more slaves were shoveling out the golden mounds of “bagasses,” or what was left of the cane after it had been chopped into pieces and crushed several times to extract the juices. From inside the mill came the sound of running water, which was added to the juice along with “milk of lime,” designed to filter out any impurities. To one side of the mill were enormous flat troughs, where the water was allowed to evaporate in the sun from the juice mixture, leaving the thick, brown syrup that Jane wanted for the cake. Lilah was so familiar with the sugar operation that she scarcely paid any attention to the sounds or sights involved in the process. Instead she scanned the area for Kevin.
He was mounted on a bay mare, leaning on his saddle, a wide-brimmed hat on his head as he supervised a slave leading the mule that, because of lack of wind, was operating the stone crusher.
“Kevin!” Lilah waved, hailing him. Even as she did, even as his eyes swung toward her, she realized that she had made a huge mistake. The sweat-drenched slave leading the mule in circles was Joss. He looked up to
meet her eyes as Kevin smiled, waved, and urged his mount toward her.
Lilah stared back at Joss, feeling absurdly guilty, before tearing her eyes away to smile at Kevin, who was swinging down from his horse.
“Good afternoon,” he said, smiling broadly, slipping :he reins over his arm and tilting his hat back as he bent aver to give her a resounding kiss, Lilah, knowing herself to be in full view of Joss, stepped back nervously. Kevin frowned.
“Is something wrong?”
“I … I… Jane sent me for a jug of syrup.”
“Maisie’s made tildy-cake, hmm? I can’t wait. I love her tildy-cake.”
“I know.” She smiled up at him, feeling more at ease as she recalled the chunky boy who, upon first coming to Heart’s Ease, had eaten so much tildy-cake one night at supper that she’d come upon him later, being sick out behind the orchard.
Kevin tied his horse to a nearby fig tree, took her arm, and strolled with her toward the troughs. Their route brought them within feet of Joss. Lilah cast him a sideways glance. She saw that though his face was impassive as he dragged the mule around, every muscle in his body was taut with tension. He didn’t look at the pair of them ambling so cozily arm in arm, but she knew he was aware of them with every fiber of his being.
As she had been, when he had been with Nell.
“Jane has been after me to set a date for our wedding,” Lilah said suddenly. They had stopped by the side of the mill, and Kevin sent one of the slaves to fetch a jug,
“Has she?” Kevin slanted a look down at her, shrugged. “Any time you say. The sooner the better, if you ask me.”
Lilah hesitated. This was hardly the place for such a conversation, but unexpectedly, she wanted everything settled. If he gave the right answer, it would make what she very much feared she was going to do easier.
“Kevin, why do you want to marry me?” She asked the question earnestly, turning so that she faced him, one hand resting on his forearm that was bared by his rolled-up sleeves.
“Why do you think? Because I love you, of course, silly goose. You know I’ve been in love with you for years.” It was not the answer she wanted, but she rather suspected he was telling her what he thought she wanted to hear. He looked down at her with a gathering frown.