Wellington Cross (Wellington Cross Series) (5 page)

I sighed.  “I don’t know, Jefferson.  I—” Before I
could say anything else, he leaned over from his chair and kissed me hard on
the mouth.  I tried to protest, but he took it to mean I was enjoying the
kiss and began to kiss me in earnest, his arms going tightly around mine. 
In the middle of the kiss, I got another vision of this same man trying to kiss
me in the past. 

We’d been in some sort of gazebo or porch overlooking the river,
but not at this plantation.  He’d snuck up on me and turned me around and
kissed me solidly before I had a chance to react.  I pushed him away quickly. 
He said, “Aw, just a little kiss?  It’s been a very long time since I’ve
been with a woman, especially one as pretty as you.”  I continued to
protest, and he ceased his advancements.  Finally, a memory of Jefferson,
but it wasn’t a pleasant one. 

I pushed Jefferson back forcefully with my arms and stood up to
get him off of me.  “This has to stop immediately!”  I yelled. 
He looked shocked for a moment, but then stood up, regaining his composure.

“Madeline, what’s wrong?  I’ve been a perfect gentleman
through this whole thing, and you’ve been encouraging me along like we had a
chance for a future together.  Don’t you feel anything for me at all?”

I stood there overlooking the water, and I knew I had to break
it off with him then.  I just didn’t feel anything for him, didn’t feel
that longing that I had felt for the man in my memory.  I wouldn’t be
satisfied until I found that man…if I ever did find him.  It may have been
a foolish decision, but I had to go with my heart on this very important decision. 
I didn’t want a life of misery, always wondering what could have been. 
Living with a man I didn’t love, looking at him with disgust and resentment
years down the road.  I turned to face him. 

“No, I don’t, Jefferson.  I don’t at all.  You’re a
very nice man, but…”  I was frightened to tell him about the one I longed
for in my heart, but I could not think of another way to get him to finally
leave me be.  “I have strong feelings for another man in my heart.  I
don’t know what happened to him, but I do remember that I had great affection
for him, before I lost my memory.  I do apologize, Jefferson.  I just
don’t think we should see each other anymore.  I think that’s only fair to
you.”

His worried face turned dark and angry.  He gritted his
teeth and clenched his jaw, turning to look out at the river.  I’d hurt
his feelings, but I didn’t know any other way.  I’d rather live to be an
old maid than to marry someone I didn’t love.

“Fine,” he said finally.  “Let me have the ring back.”

I froze.  My ring?  I almost fainted.  I almost
told him I would marry him, just to keep that ring.  It was part of me,
part of my past, and I hated to let it go…especially since it gave me the
memory of the mystery man from my past.  But I relented and gave it back
to him.  It had apparently been his mother’s, after all.

And so I said goodbye to Jefferson and told him that I no longer
wished to see him again.  Lionel drove me back to Chester.

In June, I had been living with the Washingtons for a year,
still with no more memories of my past except for the ones from my
childhood.  One humid Saturday morning, the air as thick as fog, I headed
out with Lionel on horse and carriage into Chester with some of the wheat to
sell.  I made enough to obtain three egg-laying hens.  They were put
in cages, and Lionel placed them on the back of the carriage for the ride back
to Oakworth. 

As I started to get up on the carriage to leave, a woman I
didn’t recognize came running towards us.

“Madeline!  Madeline, wait!”  I stopped and stood
beside the carriage until the woman reached me, realizing she had been talking
to me.  Since she called me “Madeline”, I knew she must have known who I
was.  Even Mr. and Mrs. Washington started calling me “Madeline” after
Jefferson came along, so I was used to responding to that name.  The lady
was an attractive slightly older woman with blonde hair and bright blue
eyes.  She reminded me of the woman I’d seen at the New Year’s Eve party.

“Madeline!  What on earth are you doing here?”  She
hugged me briefly, smelling of lavender.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked, expectantly.

“Yes, Madeline.  It’s me, Clarissa Wellington. 
Ethan’s mother.  What’s wrong, dear?  Are you all right?”  She
had a worried look on her face.

“Well, you see, I was in an accident a year ago, and I woke up
not remembering anything.”  I told her how I had been living with the
Washington family nearby.  “Who did you say that I am?” I asked her.

“Oh, my dear, how terrible!”  She rubbed my shoulder in an
endearing gesture.  “Well, your name was Madeline Chambers until you
married my son, Ethan.  Our family name is Wellington.  You and Ethan
grew up in Charles City County together.  Your family owned a plantation
up the river from my own.  Your parents were Jonathon and Lavina
Chambers.” 

I couldn’t believe my ears.  I was married!  And not
betrothed to Jefferson, as he had said.  She also said Charles City
County…not Surry!  Another lie Jefferson told me, although this woman did
say I had grown up on a plantation.  He had at least told the truth about
that, just the wrong plantation.  It seems he was truthful about my first
name being Madeline, but he lied to me about my last name, saying it was
Harrison.  “Wellington” fit with the “W” on my handkerchief.  I
started to get excited.

So, I had been married to this woman’s son, Ethan.  I
wondered who this Ethan was and what he looked like.  Could he be the man
in my flash of memory when I held that ring? 

“Won’t you come home with me, Madeline, dear?  Maybe seeing
Ethan and your home again will help you regain your memory.  Ethan was so
worried about you.  He’ll be so very happy to know you’re still
alive.  We didn’t know what had happened to you.  We’ve missed you so
much over the past year.”  She smiled sweetly at me.  I sensed that
Mrs. Wellington genuinely cared for me.

“I, uh…I suppose I should go back to Mr. and Mrs. Washington and
tell them what you’ve told me.  It will be difficult for me to leave
something familiar and go to a place I don’t remember.”

“I understand, dear.  Take your time.  I’ve got a
sister living nearby in Bellwood.  I’ve been visiting with her, trying to
help her through some hard times, like we’re all having.  She’s trying to
keep her farm, but some of her husband’s family is trying to take the home away
from her.  She can’t afford the taxes anyway.  I came all the way up
here with Zeke, one of our hired hands, to take her one of our ex-slaves so she
wouldn’t be alone trying to tend to that house and farm.  She may end up
coming to live with me.  I came to town for some supplies she needed and
was just about to take them to her.  I’ll be leaving for Charles City
County tomorrow, so how about if I come back here tomorrow morning and wait for
you here.  Will you come back?  I’ll wait till noon before going back
home.  If you decide not to come, that’ll be fine, too.  Does that
sound suitable?”

I really didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I guessed that
coming back in the morning would be enough time to make a decision – one way or
the other.  I really was ready to get my memory back, and maybe this was
the best way to do that.  Surely this kind-looking woman was telling me
the truth, since some of what she told me I had already heard from Jefferson.

“That sounds fine,” I said.  I got up on the
carriage.  “Goodbye, Mrs. Wellington,” I said, waving and then Lionel
pulled on the horse’s reins.

“Goodbye, dear,” called Clarissa Wellington.  “It was so
good to see you again, and I do hope you’ll come home with me where you
belong.”

When Lionel and I got back to Oakworth late in the afternoon, my
eyes widened in horror.  We saw smoke billowing up through the trees, and
as we got closer, we saw that the house was burning up in flames. 
Frantically, Lionel guided the reluctant horses through the gates and up to the
house.  He jumped off the carriage, yelling for his mother and sisters,
and ran around to the back of the house.  I climbed out of the carriage
and yelled for the Washingtons.  I ran to open the front door, but was
pushed back out by a burst of smoke, which made me cough and burned my
eyes.  I screamed and blinked my eyes.  When I could see clearly
again, I staggered off the porch and ran around to the back of the house
looking for signs of life in the windows.  I banged on windows and doors,
still coughing from the smoke I had inhaled, until I saw Lionel come out the
back door.

“Miss Madeline!  Stay out o’ the house!”  He was out
of breath and coughed violently as he walked towards me.  “I tried to go
up…main stairs…to find Washingtons…” he paused to cough.  “But…too
much…fire.”  More coughing.  “The back stairs…smoky…I came back
out.”  He could barely talk and began coughing again and again, leaned
forward, and then collapsed on the ground.

“Lionel?  Lionel!”  I fell to my knees before him and
tried to open his eyes, gently smacking his face, anything to revive him, but
it was no use.  I felt for a pulse – I don’t even know how I knew to do
that – but it was gone.  He was dead.  He had apparently inhaled too
much smoke.  I felt terrible that I couldn’t save his life, when he had
been the one to save mine.

I began screaming, “No, no!  This can’t be!  Lionel,
please,” I pleaded.  I got up and ran back to the back door, opened it,
but again was struck in the face by smoke and a tremendous burst of heat. 
Flames licked all around the door, chasing me back out.  I ran behind the
house to the old slave quarters, where Cora and her family lived, but it was
empty.  I then ran down a long trail through the woods to the creek, where
Cora could sometimes be found washing.  Sure enough, Cora and the girls
were there, washing clothes.

“Cora!”  I yelled, coughing from inhaling some of the smoke
and from running.  Cora turned towards me, wringing water out of a dress.

“Miss Madeline?  Are you all right?”  She looked
concerned. 

I pointed over the trees to the smoke rising in the air. 
“The farm…”  I gasped for air.  “Lionel…”   Her eyes
widened in fear.  She dropped the dress on the creek bank and started
running.  The girls and I followed her back through the trees to the
farmhouse, over to where her son lay dead.

“Oh, dear God!”  Her hands flew up and covered her
mouth.  She ran over to the boy, dropped down on her knees and picked up
his lifeless body.  She hugged him, crying and rocking back and forth,
murmuring, “No, no, no…not my boy…not my sweet Li.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, after composing my breathing.  “He
inhaled too much smoke looking for someone in the house.  He was very
brave.” 

She nodded her head and continued to hold her son.  The
girls and I started pumping water from the well into some old buckets and tried
to put the fire out, but it was of no use.  The fire consumed the house
before we could get half of it put out.  It had been made of wood, not
bricks.

Exhausted and feeling dirty from the smoke, I went back over to
Cora and Lionel, fell onto my knees, and began to sob.

“It can’t be,” Cora murmured.  “Whatever will we do?” she
asked the girls.  The girls walked over to us and stood behind Cora,
holding onto each other and weeping softly.  She just started caressing
Lionel’s hand and began humming a sad, soulful song, tears falling onto the
boy’s cold arm.

I looked back at the house, in flames.  I couldn’t believe
the Washingtons were gone.  Mrs. Jane had been like a mother to me. 
She’d helped me so much when I had nothing, no memory at all and no place to
go.  After more sobbing, realizing I had no place to go once again, I
began to think of Clarissa Wellington and all she had told me.  She had
offered to take me to her home.  Now that I had lost the Washingtons and
the home that I had here, then going home with Clarissa might be the best
solution after all.  I did have a place to go, after all.

I stayed with Cora and her girls in one of the old slave cabins
all night, after burying Lionel at the top of the hill at the side of the
property.  We didn’t dare go back inside the smoke-filled house.  I
asked Cora what she and the girls were going to do now.  Cora said she had
no one – her husband having been killed during the war, and her two brothers
had moved North at the time of Emancipation. She really didn’t know what to do
except to drift again, and look for another plantation or farm that needed
help.  She asked me what I was going to do.  I told them all about
meeting Clarissa and that I had planned to meet her in the morning.  I
asked them to come along with me, see if they needed help.  Cora was
nervous about the idea, but after I encouraged her, she decided that it
wouldn’t hurt to try.  I would ask Mrs. Wellington if they needed help on
their plantation, times being hard as they were, or if a nearby plantation
owner needed help.  It would make me feel better about following Mrs.
Wellington to her home if I had someone I knew with me, if they were allowed to
come with us.

In the morning, we got in the carriage, packing as much supplies
as we could find in the remains of the house, a few of Cora’s and the girls’
belongings, and the chickens I had purchased.  We left Oakworth, bound for
Chester.  Tears filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks as I said
“goodbye” to the home and family I had grown to love.  I was, of course,
thankful for my life being spared, and felt comforted to have Cora and the
girls with me.