Raelynn laughed at the young woman’s exuberance. “My husband is indeed most gallant, Tizzy, of that I have no doubt. In my case, I was saved from a conniving uncle who wanted to sell me to a horrible man, but Mr. Jeffrey came to my defense when I most needed a champion.”
“Yo’ means yo’ was sold . . . jes’ like me, Miz Raelynn?” the servant asked in amazement.
Raelynn nodded. “Yes, Tizzy, just like you. As I understand it, almost as many white people have been sold in this country as blacks, except that most of them have become indentured servants rather than slaves. Many were transported here as prisoners on English ships, mainly from Ireland and Scotland. Sad to say, a few of those wretched souls have been condemned to a life of intolerable hardship here by their masters. You and I both are fortunate to have found a safe haven here in Mr. Jeffrey’s house.”
Tizzy shook her head, hardly able to absorb the wonder of it. “Ah heared o’ white folks bein’ sold inta bondage afore, Miz Raelynn, but ah nevah figgered ah’d be a-workin’ for one whad was almost a slave.”
Soft laughter spilled from Raelynn’s lips. “I have my husband to thank because I’m not. He not only saved me from my uncle’s devious plans, but he brought you here to help me. I’ve been at wit’s end trying to do something with my hair.”
“Yo’ needn’t worry no more ’bout dat, Miz Raelynn. I’ll be takin’ care of it from now on, thanks ta Mistah Jeffrey. No doubt ’bout it, he sho’ is a fine gen’leman, Miz Raelynn. My pa bein’ sayin’ dat for years. Ah doan knows whad ah’da’ve done if’n Mistah Jeffrey hadn’t bought me.”
“I’m immensely glad that Mr. Jeffrey saw fit to buy us both, Tizzy.”
Tizzy cackled in full agreement. “Yas’m, so am I!”
Once they returned to the matter of grooming, it didn’t take long for Tizzy to arrange the rich auburn hair into an enchanting coiffure. For an added charming touch, she attached narrow ribbons of blue satin that flowed over a cluster of ringlets she had bunched together near the top of her new mistress’s head.
Prettily coifed and gowned, Raelynn danced around on pale blue slippers before the standing mirror.
“How do I look, Tizzy?”
“Jes’ downright beaut-ti-ful, Miz Raelynn.”
THE WALLS OF THE DINING ROOM HAD BEEN RICHLY decorated in a trompe d’oeil fashion, creating the illusion that a garden surrounded a merrily splashing fountain on the far side of the long, mahogany dining table, around which Chippendale chairs were neatly nestled. The butler, always nattily garbed in a crisply starched white coat and black knee breeches, stockings, and buckled shoes, was already setting out serving dishes and a large silver compote filled with fresh fruit on the sideboard.
“Good morning, Kingston,” Raelynn greeted cheerily, sweeping inward with a vivacious smile.
The black man’s face lit up with a wide, white-toothed grin as his dark eyes settled on her. Word had already filtered down through Cora that the new mistress had as late as yesterday morning been ensconced in the master’s chambers, which in Kingston’s estimation made everything at Oakley just about as close to being perfect as possible until offspring began arriving. Only then would it be ideal. “An’ a right fine good mornin’ ta yo’, too, Miz Raelynn. Yas’m, it sho has the makings for a mighty nice day.”
“The weather seems very refreshing for a change,” Raelynn observed as she sank into a chair near the head of the table. “A bit cooler, don’t you think?”
“Yas’m, it sho’ is.” Taking up a silver teapot, Kingston poured the brew into her cup. “Ah heared tell from Mistah Jeffrey dat where yo’ comes from, Miz Raelynn, de weather is cooler’n it is here most any time. He was hardly more’n boy de first time he went o’er dere, but he say dat aftah de family comed back home, dey had ta get used ta de weather all o’er again.” The butler chortled and shook his graying head. “I ‘spect yo’ve been sufferin’ somethin’ mighty awful yerself from de heat hereabouts. Yo’re probably wonderin’ why in tarnation yo’ sail so far ‘cross de ocean jes’ ta get here.”
“There have definitely been times when I thought the heat here intolerable,” Raelynn acknowledged with a chuckle. “Mainly, I suppose, because an unusually warm day in England is still much cooler than even the weather we’re experiencing today.”
Pursing his lips, Kingston mulled over her answer. “Whad would de English call days like whad we was havin’ afore today, Miz Raelynn?”
“Hades,” Raelynn answered with bubbling amusement, drawing a deep chortle from the black. “I’ve heard it said that one of the reasons the colonists won their freedom from England was simply because British soldiers went into battle wearing stiff stocks, woolen breeches and those dreadfully hot, red jackets buttoned all the way up to their chins while the Yankees dressed quite sensibly.” She accepted a hot roll from the breadbasket the servant offered and rolled her eyes to emphasize her lamentation. “After personally being subjected to a Carolina July, Kingston, I’m inclined to venture a guess and say that just as many English soldiers succumbed to the heat as those who fell from gunfire. There have actually been a couple of days when I was sure I would do the same.”
The butler threw back his head and haw-hawed in amusement. “Yo’ ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Miz Raelynn,” he warned jovially after calming. “Jes’ wait. August’s a-comin’, so’s ye’d best get yo’self set. But yas’m, I heared dat afore ’bout de soldiers, an’ den dere are folks whad say we won de war ’cause dem Lobsterbacks marched shoulder ta shoulder inta battle whilst our soldiers hid behind bushes an’ trees an’ picked dem off like a glutton eatin’ peas from a pod. De Indians learnt de Yankees ta be real sly-like ’cause dat’s de way dey was a-killin’ us. A ways back, more’n a score o’ years now, I seen me plenty o’ dem Lobsterbacks, but I al’ays skedaddled afore any o’ ’em took it in dere heads ta use me for target practice.”
A moment earlier, Jeff had paused in the doorway to admire his wife in the gardenlike atmosphere of the room. The sight made him reconsider his long-held disdain of its décor, which had been left much as it had been before his purchase of the plantation. He had once deemed the murals a bit flamboyant for his more subdued tastes in spite of the wont of many Charlestonians to embellish foyers and other rooms with similar motifs, but the serene beauty of his wife seemed right in keeping with the tranquil garden scene. He felt immeasurably blessed when her shining eyes came upon him, for her welcoming smile glowed back at him with all the brightness of his own private daystar.
Raelynn basked in a moment of pride as she swept her gaze over her husband. Unquestionably his tall, manly physique and handsome features were deserving of all the attention women were wont to bestow upon him. Not only had she seen proper young ladies eyeing him with surreptitious reserve along some of Charleston’s fashionable streets the day before, but later in the afternoon, when he had stepped briefly from the carriage to talk with several of his teamsters near the docks, several harlots had stopped their hawking long enough to scrutinize him in unabashed boldness. Even during a short stroll in a more influential area of the city, Raelynn had glanced casually around and found a winsome miss trying to disguise her sudden confusion after being caught gaping. Mere moments later, a parasol was hurriedly lowered to hide the blushing cheeks of its bearer, a dignified woman of an age perhaps as much as a score and ten.
Although more slender than his brother, Jeff was just as athletic and handsomely proportioned. Recently Raelynn had taken time to study the portraits of his parents and had determined that although Jeff, like Brandon, favored his physically stalwart father in both face and coloring, her husband had apparently inherited his own finer boned frame from his mother, who, Jeff had said, had been as slender as a reed to the day she died.
Presently Jeff was casually dressed in a white, full-sleeved shirt, taupe riding breeches, and black boots, all of which were complemented by his trim form. As he approached, a lazy, hypnotic smile curved his lips, warming her as surely as any caress.
&nbs
p; When Jeff halted beside his wife’s chair, he clasped her thin fingers within his and, leaning down, placed a doting peck upon her brow. A more thorough kiss had been his desire from the first moment he had seen her in the dining room, but he had no doubt that a demonstration of that nature would have shocked their butler.
“You’re looking no less than radiant this morning, my sweet,” he averred. “I trust you’ve met your new lady’s maid, and are pleased with her?”
“Very.”
The green eyes glowed warmly in approval as they slowly swept the length of her, from her charmingly coifed auburn hair to her slender blue slippers. “From what I can now ascertain by looking at you, Tizzy has been able to make perfection the epitome of empyreal loveliness. Quite simply, madam, you look like an angel.”
Raelynn dipped her head in laughing acknowledgment of his flattery. “Thank you, kind sir, not only for your praise, but also for your thoughtfulness in bringing Tizzy here to serve as my lady’s maid. I’m sure I shall never again have to worry about my hair, my clothes, or anything else while I’m in her care.”
“In view of the fact that Cora has so much to do as housekeeper, I was forced to consider other alternatives for your lady’s maid. Then, too, I had to think of my pride.” His lips twitched briefly with a threatening grin as he struck a lofty pose to emulate a pompous lord. “To stroll down a boulevard with a beautiful, exquisitely groomed lady and to watch everyone turn and stare in admiration nurtures my conceit no small degree.”
With a gay laugh Raelynn flung up a hand and shooed away such foolish logic. “You have no need to feed your pride on my appearance, sir. All you have to do is cast a glance about you the next time you visit Charleston. If you didn’t notice all those pretty young maids who twittered and chirped when they espied you sauntering down the street yesterday, Mr. Birmingham, then I certainly did. Truthfully, they did little for my self-esteem.”
“What of the men who drool after you, Mrs. Birmingham?”
She scoffed and feigned amusement over a subject that at times troubled her unmercifully. If women adored him so, then a wife had to expect that he was forever receiving invitations into their beds. “I saw far more of the former than the latter, sir. Indeed, it makes me wonder how many maids you’ve led about on a string.”
“Reassure yourself, madam,” he murmured, bending toward her again with a captivating smile and glowing green orbs. “My eyes are only for you.” He settled the matter with a soft kiss upon her lips, and when he straightened, they found themselves alone, which seemed convenient for a more thorough, warmly titillating kiss.
Raelynn laughed shakily as he finally drew away and, with some surprise, realized that she had threaded her fingers through the short, curling hair at his nape. Leaning back in her chair, she gazed up at him with eyes that had grown dark and luminous. “Your kisses make me swoon,” she breathed. “Even from the first, they were like a strong wine sapping my will and the strength from my limbs.”
Jeff lifted her slender fingers to his lips. “Your smile does that to me, madam.”
He stepped away from her with that same magical wink and hypnotic grin that made her heart flutter and settled into his chair at the head of the table. His preference for having her close at hand while dining had been established on the night of their wedding. From where he now sat, he had only to stretch a hand out to touch her.
“Did you manage to get any sleep last night, my dear?” he asked as he spread a linen napkin over his lap.
Reminded of the recent hours in which they had made love, Raelynn blushed with warm pleasure as she lifted a teacup to her smiling lips. “Enough, thank you. And you?”
His green eyes gleamed as they caressed her. “Actually, I can’t remember sleeping . . . or, for that matter, letting you sleep. Still, I must have, for I feel marvelously relaxed and invigorated. But then, perhaps I’m giving credit where it isn’t due.”
Jeff took note of her vibrantly hued cheeks and guessed that he had caught her thinking back on the intimate moments they had shared. Beneath his quizzically elevated brow and smilingly perceptive gaze, Raelynn could do naught but smile and shrug in helpless admission. He reached across and, taking her hand once more, raised it to his mouth as their eyes merged in warm accord. His softly caressing kisses were as light as thistledown on her fingers, effective in evoking warm shivers along her spine.
“Heavenly day, sir,” she managed breathlessly, amazed by the potency of his knee-weakening persuasion, “you’re extremely dangerous to a lady’s peace of mind. Just a few moments ago, I was thinking of merely enjoying a cup of tea and the morning banquet. Now you have me all aflutter wondering if I’ll shock the servants if I lead you back to our bedroom.”
The emerald eyes grazed her in a way that left no doubt that breaking the morning fast was far from his mind. “I suppose we should eat first.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “You’ll need your strength to endure my attentions.”
“I’m really famished,” she admitted, leaning forward with a tantalizing little grin. “In fact, I can’t remember ever being so ravenous . . . except, of course, on the voyage over here. ‘Twould seem, Mr. Birmingham, that our recent activities do strange things to me.”
“Eat hearty, madam,” he encouraged. “There is much more to come. As for this morning, I thought you might enjoy riding out and looking over the plantation. Would you consider accompanying me on such a tour?”
“Oh, yes, Jeffrey. In fact, I was going to ask if you would grant me such a favor. You must have read my mind.”
Reveling in their new-found contentment, they lingered longer than usual over breakfast. Though Kingston hovered near and encouraged them to eat heartily of the tempting dishes the cook had prepared for them, it was as if they were entirely alone in the huge house. Their eyes, never straying far from the other, communicated things that were lovingly intimate and best left unsaid in a houseful of servants. Their hands touched often in private little ways that might have brought a blush to the cheeks of a beholder had that one perceived exactly what those secret strokes imparted. But then, when such gestures were conveyed in the private language of love, that strange mystical prose which softened eyes, moistened lips, and left hearts soaring with joy, how could another have discerned their meaning?
A RIDING HABIT HAD NOT BEEN AMONG THE CLOTHES that Mrs. Brewster had brought back from Ives’s Couture for Raelynn before the wedding. Thus, when Jeff escorted his young wife outside, she was still wearing the same blue and white gown she had donned earlier that morning. To shade her face from the sun she had donned a large-brimmed straw bonnet, the blue ribbons of which she had tied in a charming bow aside the delicate lines of her jaw.
“I suppose we’ll have to find you a nice, gentle mount,” Jeff teased as he cast a glance toward her. “Now be sure and tell me when you’ve had enough of riding and want to return home. I wouldn’t want to tire you overmuch when I have every intention of involving you in some further activity tonight.”
Raelynn caressed the arm through which she had looped her own and released a worried sigh. “I haven’t been riding in so long a time, Jeffrey, I fear my tiring will come sooner than later. You just may have to call for the carriage to fetch me home.”
“Never fear, madam. I shall attend you perfectly well without a carriage.”
Raelynn glanced up at him with a brow arched inquisitively, but Jeff was quite willing to let her remain in the dark. Offering no explanations, he swept her along the path toward the stables.
The white, clapboard structure was reminiscent of an enormous dog-trot cabin replete with a high-pitched roof and a wide passageway that ran down the middle of it and opened to the outside when the doors at both ends were folded back. Behind and to the sides of the barn lay more than a hundred acres of gently rolling meadow upon which the horses were pastured behind white board fencing.
Individual paddocks had been set aside for the stallions. Even from a distance, these fine steeds gave every appearance
of being extraordinary animals of remarkable energy and flashy strides. Raelynn soon learned that her husband had culled most of them within the last three years from the best breeding farms in Ireland and England.
“When I began to restore Oakley,” Jeff murmured thoughtfully, idly slapping a crop against the top of his boot as they wandered past the paddocks, “most of my attention was devoted to laying out the areas best suited for the different crops, yet even then, I nurtured an unquenchable desire to have the plantation known one day as much for its fine horses as its productive fields.”
“You’ll succeed,” Raelynn assured him with unrestrained confidence. She was certain her husband could achieve any goal to which he set his heart and mind, for she sensed within him a strength and determination that she had rarely glimpsed. Her father had been of similar resolve. Even after his imprisonment, he had been confident that right would prevail. Perhaps it would one day, for she had no doubt that he had been innocent of all the treasonous deeds of which he had been accused, but exoneration would do him little good now that he was moldering in the grave. It would only be his offspring who would revel in his name being restored to the honor it once held when he had been known unquestionably as a faithful servant of the king.
Glancing about, she realized that Jeff’s vision of an outstanding collection of horses could already be glimpsed in the fine, arched necks and prancing gait of the foals trotting alongside their mothers. It was also evident that his ambition was contagious, for the grooms and handlers labored at their tasks as if they owned a sizable stake in the breeding farm. They clearly took pride in their accomplishments.