Late in the night when the celebration had ended, Lynna’s tears finally slowed as she lay beside her aunt. “Thank you for understanding that I must go away, Aunt Judith,” she whispered into the dark night.
“Of course I understand, darling. And I agree. There is no reason for you to return to Magnolia House for the…” Judith had almost said wedding. “Your Aunt Gypsie will be thrilled that you have finally decided to visit her in Charleston.”
Theirs was a tearful farewell, but Lynna already knew how difficult it was to leave someone you loved behind. She wanted nothing more than to go home with Aunt Judith to their little cottage and close out the world around them, sequestered from any and all outsiders, but that would be impossible. Magnolia House would be a beehive of activity with plans for Suzanne’s upcoming nuptials and the lavish reception to follow.
Her aunt would be working round the clock on a trousseau for the bride to be. Deirdre Chisholm would sew the actual wedding gown, she was sure. Only the best for the daughter of Silas Fletcher, and the bride to be of Captain Joshua Jordan. Mary would be ecstatic, bustling about, making wedding preparations.
And Suzanne? Lynna prayed never to see her smirking face again. She recalled the glowing look of triumph Suzanne had worn when she had slithered into her room after all the guests had retired from the ball.
“Will you marry my brother now?” Suzanne had asked so sweetly that Lynna was surprised sugar didn’t drip from her lips.
“No.” Lynna continued with her packing, hoping to hide her tear stained face. “I won’t be marrying anyone.”
“Well, why ever not?” Twisting the knife into Lynna’s heart a little deeper, she added, “We could have a double wedding. Wouldn’t that be a splendid affair?”
Lynna forgot her tears and spun around, wanting only to hurt her. To make her feel a small portion of the gut wrenching agony that ripped through her soul. Before she had the chance, Suzanne’s next words stopped her cold.
“Lynna, darling, I know how you must feel. But, honestly, you really must forget any misguided illusions you had toward my betrothed. I know all about that silly night the two of you shared in Judith’s cottage. You must realize that an occasional romp with a besotted female means nothing to a man like Joshua. He has, or had, them on a regular basis. I’m sure he will be quite content with what he has in his own bed now.” She smiled brilliantly for Lynna’s benefit. “Anyway, he told me about your little tryst and I was gracious enough to forgive him.”
“Forgive him? For what?” Lynna asked, disbelief written on her face. Joshua would never betray her confidence. “What are you talking about, Suzanne?”
“You don’t have to deny it, Lynna. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It was beyond your control. I, of all people, know what a desirable man my future husband is. Why do you think I am marrying him? The poor dear told me how he went to deliver a message from your aunt, after the Morehead fire, and how you cried so pathetically and begged him to stay the night.”
Suzanne watched Lynna closely for a reaction to her lie, but she kept her emotions well hidden. “I must admit that I was furious when he first confessed to me, but then he does apologize so...lustily. He assured me that you meant nothing to him, that he had only been trying to comfort you after your trying ordeal and things got carried away, so I forgave him.”
Lynna must never know that she had stood outside the open window that night and heard every word.
“My…ordeal?” Lynna whispered.
“Yes, with your uncle. You poor thing,” Suzanne cried with a twinkle in her eye. “To have an uncle who beats you. Why, I simply cannot imagine anything so heinous.”
A vision of Joshua and Suzanne together, laughing at her, him recounting to Suzanne how she had asked, no begged, him to stay after being beaten by her uncle sent a fresh wave of agony coursing through her. Dear God. She had been so blind. So stupid. Suddenly, she was actually able to smile through her tears as she envisioned the two of them growing old together.
Just before midnight, Lynna was a lone figure on the quiet streets of Charleston. Her carriage had busted a wheel on the outskirts of town, making it impossible for them to continue. Rather than wait until morning, she had taken one of the horses and continued to her aunt’s house alone, against the stern wishes of the driver.
Glancing up, she saw the tower of Saint Michael’s Episcopal Church looming up ahead stately and proud, watching over the sleeping port city. She noticed a bright ring around the moon. What were the superstitions Jasmine had warned her of concerning a ring around the moon? She wished she had listened more closely.
Suddenly the horse slowed and pricked up his ears, alert. Lynna gradually became aware of a tinkling noise, as if from gently ringing bells. That was odd. She searched for the origin of the sound, but couldn’t see anything unusual as the moon chose that moment to hide behind the clouds.
With increasing alarm Lynna became aware of a low, steady rumbling noise that seemed to come from underneath the ground, growing continually louder until it was almost deafening.
And the church bells. All through the city, church bells began to ring in an erratic cacophony. Terrified, the horse reared and Lynna was thrown to the ground in a painful heap upon the suddenly shifting earth. In a blind panic she ran down the street until she came to the welcoming doors of Saint Michael’s.
Across the sleeping city eyes widened and fear took root in every citizen, as all around them chimneys crumbled and rained brick into the streets. As the thundering noise grew louder people ran into the streets, consumed with terror. The roaring and crashing noises continued for just over a minute then the noise suddenly stopped.
Inside the saintly structure of St. Michael’s, the bells were chiming without the rope being pulled. Not their usual enchanting melody, but a horrible, uncontrolled noise that vibrated through the church. Dropping to her knees Lynna prayed harder than she ever had before, begging God to be merciful rather than just and allow her a quick death. She was sure this was her punishment for giving herself to Joshua without the sanction of the church.
Joshua.
If only she could be held in the safety of his strong embrace once more before she died. But that would never happen, for her life would soon be over. As if to add credence to her thought the earth beneath her feet suddenly heaved upward, sending holy statues from their pedestals behind the altar to crash to the floor only inches from where she lay crouched under a pew.
The trembling became extremely violent, causing the beautiful stained glass windows to shatter and fall to the floor around her. She knew nothing of the destruction that was destroying the city and claiming many lives outside the church. Her mind was filled with the ringing of the bells and the horrible rumbling noise. She remained in her crouched position, too terrified to move until the trembling earth stood still and the horrible clanging stopped.
When all was quiet she crawled out from under the pew, not knowing which way to turn. The church was filled with thick, heavy smoke, making it difficult to breathe. In search of fresh air she made her way through the rubble across overturned pews and crumbling statues, falling every other step and cutting her hands and knees on the broken glass and other debris littering the aisle.
She moved steadily forward toward the dim light filtering through the open door, fearing what she might find when she reached it. The full moon was bright, but the smoke and dust created a thick fog, hiding most of the destruction from her view until the stark morning light would illuminate it.
Her horse was nowhere to be found and she could only pray that her driver had survived the chaos. She must hurry and reach her aunt’s house and send someone back for him.
Glancing around she noticed that a crowd was beginning to gather in the streets, a crowd that had been roughly yanked from their beds.
Lynna was lucky that she had been in the business district when the earthquake struck the city of Charleston. Had she been in the residential section she would have heard the screams as th
e bodies of men, women, and children were pulled from the wreckage.
As she moved carefully through the crowded streets, fires burned out of control all around her, crackling sparks being carried high into the sky on the breeze that blew in from the river. Men, women, and children formed a human conveyor belt, carrying water to put out the innumerable fires. Her first impulse was to join them and help, but first she had to find her aunt and be assured that she wasn’t hurt, or worse.
Breaking into a run, sharp talons of fear dug into her sides, urging her forward. She ran until her parched throat and aching sides forced her to slow down. It was then that she noticed candlelight flickering in a downstairs window. To Lynna it resembled a beacon guiding a ship in a violent storm. She followed the light, breathing a heartfelt sigh of relief to find the house miraculously intact and her aunt standing on the front stoop. With a cry of joy, she rushed into her outstretched and welcoming arms.
Many of the picturesque homes and stately mansions of Charleston were destroyed during the earthquake, but by far the worst tragedy was the loss of life. Many people were killed in their sleep, while others were trapped under the rubble, waiting, and knowing that there would be no chance for a rescue until morning. Some died before the rescuers could dig them out, while many of the severely burned or injured prayed for the relief that only death could bring.
Over the destruction, the tower of Saint Michael’s could be seen as a reminder to the people of Charleston. They had survived disastrous fires, hurricanes, and tornadoes in the past. The earthquake had proven to be a formidable foe, but the Holy City would come back stronger than ever.
Unfortunately, Lynna’s dear Aunt Gypsie didn’t have the courage to remain and watch the long process of rebuilding. Miraculously her shotgun house had sustained only minor damage, but no matter which room in the house she happened to be in, when she looked out the window her eyes fell upon destruction.
Her once beautiful city, where her beloved late husband had been born, raised, and buried, now more closely resembled a battlefield. A battle that Charleston had lost.
The downtown area still smoked from the raging fires that had swept the city. Now there were only ashes where a thriving business district had once been. Gypsie had lost two of her dearest friends to the earthquake and the pain was almost unbearable.
The following morning Lynna returned from a walk around the smoking city to find her aunt staring dismally out the window, a pathetic sight.
“Aunt Gypsie, are you ill?” This disheveled woman was a poor caricature of the effervescent aunt that she remembered.
It was a long time before Gypsie could trust herself to answer. “No, Lynna. I’m fine physically, although emotionally I am a wreck.” She took a deep breath and continued, “After careful consideration I have decided to visit my sister Bertie and her husband Cliff in Jamaica.”
Now where would she go? Certainly not back to Magnolia House. To Cedar Hill. Perhaps she could borrow the needed funds from Samuel to return to France and her father. “I think that is a splendid idea, Aunt Gypsie. You will feel much better away from this destruction.”
“Oh, I certainly don’t intend to go alone. I mean for you to accompany me, Lynna. I couldn’t possibly travel by myself, and after the awful tale of betrayal you told me last night that you have no reason to remain here either,” Gypsie insisted, still gazing out the window upon her ruined city. “We will send a message to Judith and sail on the first ship out. Neither of us will return until our beloved Charleston has risen from the ashes like the phoenix that she is.”
Chapter 25