Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Gray (6 page)

Robert arrived, bearing six extravagant bouquets for my bridesmaids and looking so resplendent in his dress uniform that my heart seized. The bouquets were a gallant and charming gesture, so typical of him. But I couldn't help thinking that surely those flowers had cost him a month's pay.

“Shall we help you with your dress?” Angela asked.

“In a little while.” I felt dizzy, and my skin had gone hot. I retreated to my room and stood at the window, watching as the sky darkened and rain began to fall. Guests arrived, hurrying along beneath black umbrellas. Our old servant Peter manned the door. The sound of his greetings wafted up the stairs.

I pressed my fingers to my temples. Papa was still worried about my transition from the ease of life at Arlington to the trials of a nomadic army existence, but I had complete faith and trust in Robert. Still, as the hour of our marriage drew near, my faith in my own adaptability faltered. I doubted my ability to be selfless where my husband's happiness was concerned. I was, as I have said, accustomed to getting my own way. Renowned among my friends and family for my disregard of convention. Admittedly, I had fallen into a terrible habit of arriving late to important engagements. And more than once I had turned up somewhere important without the proper attire, much to my mother's dismay.

Such things mattered little to me, but Robert was a military officer, an engineer accustomed to precision, order, and punctuality. He was a delightful suitor—charming and affectionate—but what if we were too different to live together for the rest of our lives?

Someone knocked at my door, and then Angela burst in, her eyes bright with amusement. “Mary! Your preacher has arrived
soaked to the skin, and there are no clothes but your father's to dress him in!”

Three of my other attendants crowded into my room, all of them stifling laughter.

“I caught a glimpse of the poor half-drowned reverend, and I must say he looks quite comical,” Angela said. “But don't worry, his robes will cover the fact that your father's breeches come barely to his ankles.”

Then Mother arrived to help me get dressed. My gown was exquisitely made and perfectly fitted to my small frame, but compared to my beautiful and vivacious bridesmaids I felt like a wren among a flock of exotic birds.

Mother finished doing up the buttons and turned me around. “What's the matter, child?”

“Nothing. It's just that Robert is so handsome and I'm so plain. I fear I won't be a credit to him tonight.”

Mother patted my cheek. “Stop your fretting. Whatever a girl may be the day before her wedding, or however she may appear on the day after, on her wedding day she is always beautiful. Now don't keep Robert waiting.”

The bridesmaids assembled in the upper hallway. We walked down the stairs single file and into the candlelit parlor where Robert stood next to Smith. His groomsmen were lined up behind him, their faces solemn in the candlelight.

Robert winked and reached for my hand, and Dr. Keith began the service. Later I could recall nothing of it except the reading of scripture and Robert's chaste kiss after we said our vows.

Our friends crowded around us, offering kisses and congratulations. Supper was served, after which Aunt Nelly took her place at the piano and the dancing commenced.

Robert swept me into his arms. “Well, Molly, the deed is done. How does it feel to be Mrs. Lee?”

He was a head taller than I, and I had to pull away to look up into his eyes. “Why, it feels just fine, Lieutenant.”

“You're not sorry you didn't marry Sam Houston? I heard he was quite taken with you.”

“Heavens! Sam Houston is nearly forty. And anyway, he married someone else.”

“I heard she left him right after their I-dos, poor devil.” Robert twirled me around. “Promise never to leave me, Molly. I could not bear it.”

“I never wanted anyone but you.”

“I never expected you would be mine, and see how it turned out. Your parents have given us a lovely celebration,” he murmured. “Our wedding is certain to be long remembered.”

Smith tapped my husband's shoulder. “Mind if I dance with your bride, Robert?”

Smith took me in his arms. “You make a lovely bride, Mary.”

“Thank you. You make a handsome best man.”

He smiled. “Aren't you just a wee bit sorry you married my little brother when you could have had me?”

“You never were serious about marriage, Smith Lee, and you know it.”

The song ended and our guests gathered hats and shawls, summoned their carriages, and went home. Papa and Mother and our wedding attendants made themselves scarce as the evening waned.

Robert took my hand. “Shall we retire for the evening, Mrs. Lee?”

We went upstairs to the room that had been prepared for
us. The lamps were lit, and the yellow flames guttered softly in the rain-cooled breeze that stirred the lace curtains at the open window. Vases of lilacs perfumed the air.

Robert scooped me up and carried me into the room. “There,” he said softly. “We are safely over the threshold. No evil can come to us now, Mary.”

It was nothing more than a lovely old superstition, but that night, safe in my new husband's arms, I believed it was true.

Each night was filled with an abundance of food and drink, dancing, and good-natured teasing. The men played card games and billiards, raising such a commotion that at times our quiet home seemed more like a barracks. My bridesmaids danced and flirted with Robert's groomsmen, and everyone admired our wedding gifts displayed on a table in the parlor. The frolicking reached all the way to the servants' quarters, where Papa had seen to it that our servants had plenty to eat and drink.

On Sunday night, tired and overwrought from the constant press of warm bodies and the smells of powder, wine, and lavender wafting through the rooms, I retreated to the back hallway for a breath of air and a moment of solitude.

“There you are, my dear.” Papa came down the stairs and kissed my cheek. “I've been waiting for a moment to get you alone so I could give you this.” From his pocket he took a small box carved of ivory and set with emeralds and rubies. “I saw this in New York and wanted you to have it as a remembrance of your wedding.”

“It's exquisite, Papa, and I'll cherish it forever. But you have done so much for us already, I—”

“Mr. Custis?” Smith Lee came into the hallway holding a glass of punch. “Mrs. Custis is looking for you.”

Papa excused himself. Smith bowed to me and followed him.

Before I could reach the back door, Mrs. Pinckney, a large woman with a florid complexion and a mass of jet-black curls, wandered in from the conservatory. She was related to one of Robert's groomsmen—I wasn't certain exactly how. Her eyes went immediately to the ivory box in my hand.

“Oh, what a dear little thing! And so unusual. I have never seen anything like it.” Mrs. Pinckney held out her hand. “May I hold it?”

Reluctantly I handed it to her.

She said, “I don't suppose you'd consider selling it.”

I gaped at her. “Of course not. It's a wedding gift from my father.”

She handed it back, then opened her reticule and pressed a calling card into my hand. “If you should ever change your mind—”

“I can't imagine I ever will.”

She went back to join the ladies, and I escaped into the cool June evening.

By Tuesday most of our guests had left. Mother went with Robert and me to visit kin at Ravensworth, where she and I fell ill with fever and ague. I was mortified, but Robert was an attentive husband, forever asking how I was feeling, always ready to bring a glass of water or an extra blanket whenever I needed it.

After I had been abed for several days, he came into the room and laid half a dozen white rosebuds on my counterpane. “Dear Mrs. Lee,” he said gravely, “I do hope you are feeling better today.”

Who could not feel cheered by such charming gallantry? I
smiled up at him. “I am much improved, thank you. Have you seen Mother yet this morning?”

“I have, and she seems better as well. She is having tea and toast as we speak. Shall I bring you some?”

“I don't think so. I'm well enough to get dressed and go down.” I threw back the covers and got to my feet, feeling weaker than I was willing to admit.

Robert came up behind me and kissed the back of my neck. “I'll leave you to your ablutions then, dear wife, and wait breakfast for you downstairs.”

I took fresh underthings from my trunk and poured water into the washbasin. “I won't be long.”

At the door he paused, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Are you certain I can't help you dress? Although I would much rather help you
out
of those lacy fripperies than into them.”

The next morning we left Ravensworth for visits with cousins at Woodlawn and Kinloch. It was my first visit to my Turner cousins in over a year. Thomas and Elizabeth fussed over us, showering us with food and gifts and good wishes. Their girls dragged me to the stable to see the colt Eliza had named Fauquier, now a handsome three-year-old. They peppered me with questions, wanting to know every detail of the wedding.

“Did Cousin Robert bring you flowers?” Caroline wanted to know.

“Yes, and he brought bouquets for all my bridesmaids as well. You should have seen our parlor. It looked as if all the flowers in the world had escaped their gardens and come inside.”

Eliza squeezed onto the settee between her sister and me. “Mary, did you have a ball, like in
Cinderella
?”

I laughed. “All that was missing was the glass slipper.”

Henry and Edward came in then, teasing Robert and me so mercilessly that I felt an emotion akin to panic. To please Papa I had tried to master every task set before me, but mastering three languages seemed much easier than mastering the responsibilities of married life.

I was relieved when the visit ended and Mother returned to Arlington, leaving Robert and me to continue our journey to Fortress Monroe. As our carriage bowled eastward over the narrow road, I slipped my hand into Robert's. He regarded me with a mixture of worry and tenderness.

“Is something wrong, Robert? If you're concerned about our accommodations at the fort, you needn't be. I am quite resigned to living in two rooms.”

“One of them is the size of a piece of chalk. It's more like a closet with a window in it.”

“I know. I heard you telling Papa about it. Something else is bothering you.”

The clatter of the carriage wheels over a wooden bridge forestalled further comment until we reached the other side.

“I am worried for you, Mary,” he said at last. “You have been so much at home and have seen so little of mankind. I'm afraid the change from Arlington to a garrison of wicked and blasphemous soldiers will be greater and more shocking than you anticipate.”

“Don't worry about me. I will get used to it.”

As our journey neared its end, I could only pray my words were true.

T
he day Miss Mary sent me back to the house to face Missus after I bled on Miss Mary's dressing gown, Missus looked at me like I was a worm nibbling on her prized roses. She didn't whup me or sell me South. But she had promised all of us some candy when we finished the sewing, and she gave my part of it to Kitty and Liza. And she told me I couldn't come to reading lessons that week, which was worse than missing out on the sweets.

Then sewing time was over and it was Miss Mary's big day. I wanted to watch the ladies arriving in their fancy dresses and feathered hats, but Mauma sent me to help George and Thursday with the refreshments. We had to tote everything up to the house in covered boxes because it was raining hard, like the seam of the sky had been ripped open and all the water in heaven spilled out. But later on that night the rain stopped.

Mister Custis sent down cakes and hams and such, also some spirits, and told us to eat whatever we wanted. We fell on the food like the locusts from Bible times. The menfolks emptied the bottles of spirits and the grown-ups danced until the last light in the house went out.

While everyone was eating I slipped away and ran up the path to the house. There was people everywhere, talking and
dancing and carrying on. I stood at the back door hoping to see Miss Mary in her fancy dress. I had worked for weeks helping sew her wedding things, and I wanted to see how the big day had turned out.

Mister Robert came into the conservatory. I ducked down so he wouldn't see me and counted to fifty before I raised my head again. And there was Miss Mary standing beside him in a dress the color of fresh-churned butter. It had lace on the top and a skirt the same shape as the bell Missus uses for calling us up for prayers. Her hair was all in long curls and she was laughing.

I stood on my tiptoes so I could see better, and just then she turned her head and saw me. I froze in my tracks and my heart was galloping.

Miss Mary whispered in Mister Robert's ear, and he put his arms around her and twirled her around. It was the finest sight I had seen in my life so far. When they stopped, she winked at me and then they went back to the parlor and I couldn't see them anymore.

I thought the next day things would go back to the way they used to be, but the celebrating went on for days, with company coming and going at all hours. One morning I was coming back from the garden toting a basket of squash, and I saw Miss Mary sitting outside the conservatory with her paint box. It was early. The gardens were still wet with dew. The sun had come up butter-soft and hazy.

She waved to me, so I went over to her and set down my basket. “What are you painting?”

She showed me a piece of heavy paper no bigger than a page from my primer. The picture showed a brown-skinned girl just about my size, barefooted and carrying a brown basket on her
head. She was wearing a white apron, and behind her was a fence like the one that ran along the winter wheat fields at Arlington.