Emily's Vow (28 page)

"A flirt, eh?" Emily tilted her head, contemplating the concept. "I found him more egotistical than flirtatious. I guess we'll find out when he comes for the Allhallows Eve dinner."

Amy's blush deepened, and her mouth opened like a daylily receiving the morning sunlight. "You didn't?"

Emily nodded, aware of her cousin's discomfiture. "He said he'd be honored and hoped you'd attend as well."

Amy put her head in her hands, covering her face completely for a moment before spreading delicate fingers to peek through them. "I suppose it would be rude to flee to the plantation and not face him, wouldn't it?"

"Cowardly, too." Emily's suspicions regarding her feelings for Benjamin proved well-founded.

The back door slammed shut, followed by heavy boots on the worn boards. "Emily, where are you?"

Emily's stomach twisted at the heat in her father's tone. She shot a worried glance at Amy. "In the dining room."

The thud of his steps grew louder as he stomped down the hallway and into the room. He nodded grimly at Amy before turning his full attention on Emily. "So, you defied my orders and went into town after all? I'll not have it, I tell you."

"Father, I did—" Emily began, but he silenced her with a glare.

"Frank told me of your little... what did he call it? Oh yes! Your little adventure. And of your meeting with that major." Anger vibrated his bass voice. Fists on hips, he faced her. "From now on you are expressly forbidden to leave this house. Not even a bloody stroll in the garden! No exceptions whatsoever until this bloody war is over. Is that clear?"

Emily's mouth dropped open. Surely she'd misheard what her father said. "Excuse me?" She darted a look at Amy, who also sat shocked into silence.

"I will protect you whether you want me to or not. You're my only daughter now. I will not risk you coming to harm because of my lack of foresight and your lack of discipline. Therefore you're to stay inside until further notice."

"Uncle, you cannot do this," Amy ventured quietly. "It's unheard of."

He turned to her with a glare, his face mottled red and purple. "It is necessary, and I'll thank you to mind your own affairs."

Emily sagged against the table, the forgotten apple lying on the bench beside her where she'd dropped it. He'd finally done it. Made her a prisoner in her own home.

Her soul recoiled. Not even a walk in the garden until the war ended. Who knew how long that might be? Months? If the treaty wasn't signed, how long then? Tears leaked from her closed eyes. Amy's gaze weighed on her but she did not move. She could not.

"But Uncle, surely you jest," Amy pressed. "She must at least be able to work in the garden. You'll permit her that at least?"

"It won't be her, especially after recent events," he replied sharply. He ran a hand down his smooth jaw and glared at the two women. "She will obey me in this. I know of what I speak."

"Of course, sir, but please be reasonable. She has obligations to this town, the sewing circle and the ladies who rely on her weaving the cloth for shirts for our men. Surely you'll agree she should continue to support the war effort."

Emily peered at her father to gauge his response. He frowned at Amy. A sadness settled on her shoulders at his stubborn expression.

"She's done her part. They'll have to manage from now on without her slaving for them."

"I'm not their slave." Ire bubbled to the surface and forced itself from her. How dare he suggest such a thing? "I give of my time freely."

"No more, you don't. Not after what Frank relayed to me." He crossed his arms over his massive chest and considered her. "I cannot bear to lose you, too. You will stay here. Understood?"

Determination mingled with the underlying fear in his eyes. He'd lost his wife and his daughter, and nearly his grandson. She wiped at the drying trail of tears on her cheeks. She could not be the one to bring more loss, more grief to her father. Despite the difficulty before her—and she could only imagine how to rein in her rebellious nature for the duration—she must be strong for him, as he had been for her throughout her entire life. She had promised to do better and now she must. Sadness darkened her soul, but she would try.

Slowly, she nodded.

"Uncle Joshua, I must protest on Emily's behalf. She must go to church for her own spiritual growth. You must see that, don't you?"

"Church she will attend with the entire family, so permissible. But nothing more."

Amy stood and wiped her hands on the napkin before pacing to where her uncle stood, feet planted firmly as though bracing for a rolling ship's deck during stormy seas. "What if Frank and I both escort her to the sewing circle? Will that reassure you she will be protected?" Amy searched her uncle's dark expression. "Being confined in this house for months will only break her fine, loving spirit."

Emily gazed hopefully on her father's worried countenance. The sadness lightened as he considered Amy's words. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

"I'll agree to this on one condition. Frank must be with her the entire time she goes to church and the ladies' circle. If he's not available, then you, my darling daughter, will not be going. If you dishonor me by not following my instructions, I'll lock you in your room with a guard at the door until the blasted British have left this town. Understood?" He frowned deeper as Amy clasped her hands together. "Do not push me, young lady."

"Aye, Captain." Amy smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Uncle."

Emily, feeling as though she'd dodged a terrible ordeal, rose from her seat and raced to her father, gripping one of his strong hands. "Thank you, Father. You won't regret this, I promise."

"See that I don't, my dear. I want you to be well and healthy when your brothers finally return."

"You've had word from them?" Emily grasped his arm. No letter had arrived from them in months, and she dreaded their involvement in some bloody battle and subsequent injury. Or worse.

"None. Have faith. They'll come home in one piece, if I know my boys." He turned with a nod and left the room.

But would they come home on horseback or in a box? Emily did not want to voice her fears, for by saying the words it may make them come true. She didn't want to lend the words the power speaking them could yield.

"Emily, we must talk to Frank about Uncle's demands."

Emily wrinkled her nose at the idea. "Yes, I suppose we must. But can't we delay for a day or two?"

"Emily, we promised. We'll inform Frank immediately." Amy laid a cautionary hand on her arm and tugged her into a brief hug. "I know you hate this, but it will make him feel better knowing you're protected. We'll take this one step at a time, and he will soon relent even more. He's worried. He'll ease those restrictions over time."

"I hope you're right, Cousin, because otherwise I may have to take matters into my own hands. And you know that only leads to trouble."

Chapter 15

The final strains of the hymn died away as the rector climbed the stairs to the elevated pulpit to deliver his sermon. The richly carved furniture boasted inlaid woods ranging from pine to oak to mahogany, and was a work of art unbefitting its occupant, to her mind. His position, towering high above the congregation's heads, not only ensured everyone could hear his message, but also forced her to look up at him until her neck hurt. Emily chastised herself for detesting this portion of the service, but to no avail.

She used to love to sing the hymns, her favorite part of church. The organist played the Snelzer organ renowned for its superior quality, its harmonious tones filling the air as the clerk led the "lining" of the psalms, singing the line from the church's lone hymnal which the congregation then echoed back to him. The grand sound within the high-ceilinged church inspired feelings of piety and peace. Of singing directly to God for his ultimate enjoyment. Perhaps one day the church could afford to buy hymnals for all and everyone could sing together, but for now the price of books soared too high. Her feelings about attending church had changed for the worse when Reverend Edward Jenkins sailed in from Savannah with the British occupation forces to promote the loyalist sentiments. Perhaps in other times his sermons would be more welcome. But not now. She longed for their kindly, patriotic preacher Reverend Charles Moreau. She feared she may never see him again.

She let her eyes stray to the white plaster ceiling with its intricately carved border known as the Wall of Troy, with its four double roses centered on each of four sides of the rectangle above her. She tried projecting the piety of the other women surrounding her though she only wanted to move, to be outside in the sunshine, to dissipate the energy agitating her. The nave felt cool in the dim light. The sun shone through the Palladian glass window at the rear of the chancel, situated some twenty feet behind the pulpit, and brightened the dark blue walls as well as the four brown Corinthian pilaster columns. The half dome above was blue to represent the firmament with white clouds floating on it and a "glory" at the peak, a golden sun with radiating beams spreading across the dome. Two tablets hung on either side of the window containing the words of the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles Creed in gilt lettering in gilded frames with a golden cherub's head and wings at the top. She appreciated the simple elegance of the chancel, but today she had no patience.
None
.

Outside, the sun shone warmly on the churchyard with its tombstones covered by fallen leaves, and she imagined birds hopped among them searching for dinner. But she remained trapped inside yet again, albeit in a different place.

Emily sat between Frank and Father on the hard bench in their boxed pew with the half door to her left. Amy's burgundy skirts showed beyond Father's bulk, her hands folded serenely. Emily's left knee bounced twice before she overruled her impatience and quelled the movement. Reverend Jenkins droned on with his British pearls of biblical wisdom. She smothered the sigh fighting to escape. She refrained from doing anything that might force a lecture from her father after the service if she did not maintain the decorum he expected during this pious torture.

Frank must have sensed her agitation, for he pressed his leg against hers. She stilled, not because she wanted any less to leave, but because the intimate gesture stirred her latent desires into smoldering embers. His body heat branded her through the layers of fabric, and she shifted away as casually as she could so as not to alert her father to her movement. How would she explain her restlessness? Frank's look pressed on her, but she kept her eyes on the rector, praying for calm. Flexing her fingers on her velvet purse, the welcome movement did little to ease the growing tension coiling in the pit of her stomach.

"And peace descended from heaven to answer the prayers of the many who called upon the Lord for help. Amen." Reverend Jenkins closed his Bible and surveyed the congregation. The rector frowned when he saw Benjamin dozing at the end of the pew in front of Emily. Leave it to men to presume such outrageous disdain for society's expectations and then insist women adhere to a different, more restrictive standard. Emily's agitation quickened. The reverend's pointed glare prompted Frank, who sat behind Benjamin, to tap his head to awaken him. Benjamin yawned and stretched as he came to, inclining his head in a manner suggesting the rector continue with the service. As if the rector needed his permission, of all things.

Still frowning, the rector said, "Let us pray."

That makes sense; wake him up so he can close his eyes again.
She folded her hands in prayer, head bowed, but her eyes refused to close. She stared at the tips of her shoes, praying for the guidance and strength to be the person she wanted instead of what others dictated. Who gave them the right to tell her what she could and could not do with her own life, her destiny? She had thoughts and passions to explore, revel in, and share when so moved.

Her fondness for Frank increased the more time she spent with him, but that did not mean she wished to marry him or anyone else. Where did the Bible say Adam and Eve married before they started reproducing? God blessed their union because of the rib Adam shared with Eve without his consent.
Without his consent.
Two people should not be coerced into marrying merely because society demanded such a bondage.

This line of thinking only inflamed her annoyance and verged on sacrilege to boot. Her father might insist on the marriage. She shivered. Could she say no to her father even if she detested the proposed beau? Her father had always provided for her, ensuring her aunt took proper care of her and gave the necessary instructions. She owed him everything.