High Hearts (28 page)

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Authors: Rita Mae Brown

BOOK: High Hearts
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“I am not opposed to your theory, General Gorgas, but I do think we need to employ every opportunity to further bind England and possibly even France to our cause. Trade is one of those methods.”

“Then you’d better give me the money for a mess of fast ships, gentlemen.” Stephen Mallory, Secretary of the Navy, spoke. “Our Yankee brethren are going to set up a blockade.”

“Since they can’t fight on the land, they’ll try the sea.” A menacing smile erupted from the lips of Cassius Rife. He insinuated himself into the conversation. Cassius, a munitions manufacturer from Runnymede, Maryland, Lutie’s childhood home, was courting these men. Cassius would have cut cards with the devil.

A gasp went up from the crowd, as General P.G.T. Beauregard, the Napoleon of the Confederacy, strode into the receiving line. Kate curtseyed. “You honor my husband and myself by gracing us with your presence, General. The entire nation is grateful for your exploits.”

“I did only what any soldier would do, madam. I went where the fire was the hottest. And with ladies such as yourself to protect, I would go to the very jaws of hell!”

The crowd burst into spontaneous applause. The general accepted it and then walked over to Kate Vickers’s grandmother, the eldest lady in the room, to introduce himself as her dinner partner. Naturally, that was fitting since he would have to walk second into the dining room, the host, of course, preceding all with the most distinguished lady in the room and that happened to be Mrs. Jefferson Davis. The fact that Beauregard stopped first to speak to the old lady rather than the leaders of the Confederacy endeared him to every woman in the room.

Sumner, at Lutie’s urging, was meeting people, including a somewhat ignored Robert E. Lee.

Lutie, always popular in Richmond society, joined a group of ladies who were discussing Elizabeth Van Lew. “She belongs in Screamersville,” said one lady.

Another matron, staggering under the weight of her green emeralds, warbled, “She expresses publicly her many opinions, whether people are willing to listen or not. I tell you, I half expected her to appear today. She may be crazy, but she’s well bred. We can’t keep her out.”

Maud Windsor, Elizabeth Van Lew’s neighbor, said, “My
husband feels that she is suffering from extreme overexhaustion or even a form of hysteria. He has discreetly recommended to her relatives that they might consider a rest home for her.”

“I think she’s bats, plain and simple,” green emeralds bellowed.

“She’s a spy.” This was said with some conviction by a thin, but pleasant looking lady of perhaps thirty.

“Well, whatever she is, I take it she has the personality of a gargoyle,” Lutie tossed this off casually.

The ladies laughed. A little bell tinkled, and the music stopped. Time for dinner.

Mars, without a doubt the handsomest man in the room, bowed to Mrs. Davis and offered her his arm. The president jovially said, “She is the Confederacy’s most precious possession, sir. Handle with care.”

Mars placed his hand over Mrs. Davis’s hand, which rested lightly on his forearm. “Mr. President, I shall cherish our national treasure.”

The guests, encrusted with braid, rubies, pearls, stars, laurel clusters surrounding stars, gold bars, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds, promenaded toward the long, heavy table, over which hung a chandelier of perfect proportions. As they stood behind their chairs, the last couple, Kate Vickers escorted by President Davis, entered the room. As each gentleman seated his dinner partner, the rustle of dresses sounded like a high wind in pines.

President Davis could have insisted on political protocol and gone first, but he behaved as a gentleman in society and accepted the honor of attending his hostess. He sat on her right. Beauregard sat on Mars’s right. Keeping these two at opposite ends of the table, position intact, was both correct and wise on Kate’s part. The President won favor that evening by his modesty. Of course, he was only too delighted to converse with Kate. She cast her spell over everyone. Even women could not withstand her beauty. Behind her back, they carped, but in her presence, most simply trembled.

The additional cold dishes from Ernie June provided the finishing touches to the feast. The food was lavishly complimented.

After dinner, appropriate toasts were drunk, accolades sung, and the President spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Lord has blessed us with a great victory and heroic generals. Let us
hope that we can conclude this unwanted but necessary war so that we might establish the old form of government and live according to the ways of our people.”

Applause ricocheted off the walls.

After the food, the guests wobbled to their feet. The orchestra began to play, and everyone danced until dawn when the last guests left on the wings of bourbon.

For her services, Sin-Sin was presented with a beautiful French cloisonné vase, blood red with white fleurs-de-lys. A five dollar bill was folded in the neck. For Ernie June, Kate sent a bolt of English cotton, sun yellow, and a small portion of moire silk, robin’s egg blue. Ernie would find five dollars pinned inside the silk. While exceedingly generous, this was appropriate, for one never asked another person’s servant to assist without paying for the servant’s help.

That night, flushed with triumph, Kate indicated she would favor Mars with her body. A nimbus of hope shadowed his brain, but the act itself banished it. Kate made love with an imperceptible conjugal revenge. She did not give herself to Mars; she let him do what he wanted. He fell asleep feeling more alone than ever, cognizant of the supreme irony of his position. Every man leaving the party tonight would kill to be resting where he was now. Sometimes Mars felt that he was dying inside. He was waiting for the war to finish the job.

That same evening, Henley lay next to Lutie.

“I know perfectly well you’re in love with her. I only ask, dear husband, that you behave with discretion. Don’t drag me through the mud.”

Henley sat up. “Lutie! How can you talk like that?”

“Oh, lie down. We’ve been married longer than Kate Vickers has been alive. We should have talked like this a long time ago.”

“I declare you aren’t yourself since the nursing episode.”

“I’m more myself than I’ve ever been. If you can seduce Kate Vickers, then I see no reason why I shouldn’t seduce Mars.” She giggled.

Henley pounced. “That’s it! I should have known.”

“Shut up, Henley. It’s too late for your vapid pride.”

He flopped back next to her. “You amaze me. I never know what you’re thinking. I never know what you’re going to say and when you’re going to say it. I’d like to know how
many men at that party have wives who would tell them to—

“More than you might think,” she cut in, “if they have sense.” Lutie changed the subject to Kate and Mars. “They can’t stand one another.”

“Oh?” Henley’s voice cracked like an adolescent boy’s. “What makes you think that?”

“Women’s intuition.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like a cracker?”

“No. Why on earth would I want a cracker?”

“You keep saying ‘Oh.’ You sound like a parrot learning to talk.”

“Oh—I mean, I don’t know what I mean.”

“Years ago, Henley, you broke my heart. I vowed to put it out of my mind. Never to talk to you about it. And I haven’t, have I?”

“No.” His hands felt clammy.

“I was wrong. First, I can’t escape it. I am reminded every day. But more, it’s wrong when two people close the door on any subject. It’s a way to pretend the issue is settled. When something like that happens, it takes years to settle. Anyway, in my way, I was wrong, too.”

“How could you be wrong? The fault was mine.”

“The act was yours. Perhaps I didn’t love you enough.”

Crushed with remorse, Henley whispered, “You loved me too much. I was young, and young men are very casual about such emotions.”

Lutie opened up to him. “I did love you, but I was young, too. When I reflect I wonder did I truly love you as you are or did I want to control you, to turn you into someone else.”

The gray light of morning flickered across Henley’s rugged features. “It’s hard to look back. Sometimes I feel that life is a road and I am shocked to glance over my shoulder only to find familiar landmarks receding. Sometimes, Lutie, I feel old.”

“I do, too. Which is why I’m happy we had this talk. You see, I know Kate Vickers makes you feel young. When you look at me, you see a reflection of yourself.”

“You’re beautiful, my dear.”

“I’m getting old, Henley.”

“Not to me.”

“Yes, well, I’m delighted to hear it, but my point still stands. She makes you feel young, and I’ve learned enough not to deny you the pleasure she brings you.”

“I haven’t—”

“I don’t really care. In a marriage as long as ours, I think we have become as brother and sister in some fundamental way. Your body is yours to do with as you please. You always did anyway.”

“Lutie,” Henley stammered, “in my heart, I loved only you. Always.”

“You loved her. Back then.” She could see by the stricken look on Henley’s face that she touched him to the quick. “But I’ve been unfaithful, too.”

“What?”

“With Emil.”

“Surely you don’t expect me—”

“Let me finish. You place so much store by the body. The emotions I should have shared with you I shared with him.”

“He’s not real, you know.” Henley was very gentle.

“To me, he is.”

“I don’t understand you. I don’t think I ever did, but I love you.”

“I’m not sure I understand myself, and if I did, I’d probably be bored. What’s life without mystery?” She kissed him on the cheek.

Exhausted from the party, the hour, and this exchange, they fell into a contented sleep.

Two days later, Lutie returned to Charlottesville by train. Sin-Sin stood next to her and regaled Lutie with stories of the servants at the Vickerses’ home.

“She got on a red blouse, a green skirt, and orange earrings. Honey, that ain’t no country girl, that’s a miracle!”

Lutie laughed until her sides ached. Sin-Sin laughed along with her. Lutie hadn’t felt this good since she was a bride. Since Jimmy died. A great weight had been lifted from her. She had survived a tortuous passage. It was a long time coming, more than a decade, but she was herself again. Life was sharp and sweet, and she wanted to live forever.

AUGUST 26, 1861

“Jesus has gone to Galilee,

“And how do you know that Jesus is gone?

“I tracked him by his drops of blood,

“And every drop, he dropped in love.”

Sin-Sin sang at the top of her considerable lungs as she polished silver while Lutie arranged flowers.

“How about ‘Rassal, Jacob.’ ”

“Rassal, Jacob, rassal.

“As you did in the days of old.

“Gonna rassal all night til broad daylight.

“And ask God to bless my soul.”

Sin-Sin gulped in air. “Let’s sing one together. You takes the top line; I takes the bottom.”

“What do you want to sing?”

“ ‘Swing Low,’ we do right nicely on that one.”

The two women harmonized, and the more they sang, the harder they worked. This chorale was spoiled by the sound of dishes crashing on a brick floor. The two women tiptoed to the kitchen door and put their ears to it. Lutie put her finger to her lips, a needless gesture since Sin-Sin dangled on each word.

“You ast her, Momma! If you don’t, I do!”

“You be sitting on a block if you do. I doan want Miz Lutie knowin’ what a fool I gots for a girl.”

“How much am I worth? I gonna buy my way to freedom.”

“You ain’t worth two straws.”

Boyd, clever, tried another tack. “How much you worth, Momma?”

“Miz Lutie say I’s worth my weight in gold.”

“Lotta gold then, ’cause you sure is fat.”

“And you’re comin’ on right behind me!”

“I been astin’ about. You worth five thousand dollars ’cause you so skilled. So I gotta be worth ’bout two thousand dollars ’cause I’s learnin’.”

“You outta your head! You ain’t worth jack shit.”

“I’s buyin’ my way out. I doan wanna be no slave. I takes orders from you, and I doan wanna take no mo’ orders.”

“You takes your orders from Miz Lutie. She run this place.”

“She may run this place, but you run me and anyone else you can!”

This recognition of her power, unwitting flattery though it was, softened Ernie slightly. “We all wants to be free, chile. But we got it good here. You gettin’ awful airish. Iffin’ I was to slap your ass in Mississippi, you’d whistle a different tune.”

“I wants to be free.”

“Die then. Thass freedom!”

“You old folks is fools!”

Flaring again, Ernie slapped her across the face with an egg beater. “Zat so? How many old folks you see in prison? We got a place here. Not more than two weeks ago the President ate Ernie June’s food, food you helped prepare. You gonna throw that away, girl?”

“I sho’ din get none of that cloth!”

“You gots the five dollars. You givin’ me aches and pains, girl, you know that? Your brother doan bother me a tad, but you jes like a sweat bee, stingin’ with every step!”

“I wants to be free. I gonna hire myself out.”

“And have no face? No people? You a bigger fool than I thought!” Ernie was separating egg yolks from the whites. Boyd made her so mad she botched the job. “Now see what you made me do! You gettin’ these lunatic ideas from that Grizz over at the Fitzgeralds’. I got eyes in the back of my head.”

“Oh, him.” Boyd feigned disinterest which confirmed Ernie’s accusation. Boyd was not one to dismiss her conquests since she had so few of them.

“You thinks you in love. You gonna run off to Yankee lines and get married and live happily ever after. Ha! Let me do that again. HA!”

Boyd, empurpled, sputtered, “Doan you fun at me! You know what Grizz tol’ me? That the Yankees closin’ down
newspapers that takes the Southern side. Even tarred and feathered some man in Messyshussy!”

“Miss Smart Aleck, what do this mean to you?”

“It mean they is gettin’ ugly up there. They gonna free the slaves!”

“They gotta win the war first, and they doin’ a piss poor job of it! And what if they wins? What you gonna go and do? Cook for wimmins so trashy stupid they puts they napkins in they wine goblets? Ain’t no sech thing as a Northern wimmin what can set a table. Work fo’ trash, and you be trash!”

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