twenty-eight

THE REMAINDER OF TUESDAY and most of Wednesday passed for Schuyler in a love-drunk delirium. By Wednesday at dinnertime, he had begun to recover to the point that he was able to hear and comprehend words that did not proceed from the honeyed mouth of Miss Joelle Daughtry.

Over chicken and dumplings, he heard the company talking about Levi’s disappearance, after the arrival of a mysterious gentleman from Chicago. This man had been closeted all afternoon with Levi in the Daughtry House library, then the two of them had left for Memphis—leaving behind a very disappointed Selah.

“I knew he would do this periodically when I married him,” she told her family philosophically. “It’s a good thing I have the hotel to keep me busy.”

Schuyler, who now considered himself one of the family, looked at Joelle with smug self-righteousness. “I’m never leaving you.” He lifted her hand, linked with his under the table, and kissed the sapphire ring.

“Would someone pass me the syrup of ipecac?” Aurora said, looking revolted. “I think I’m going to heave.”

But Joelle laughed. “Don’t worry, he’ll leave as soon as someone starts singing opera. No offense, Delfina.”

“None taken.” Delfina tipped her head, considering Schuyler with dispassionate interest. “I think he is not meant to worship at the shrine of the Fabio after all.”

Doc, who had stayed for dinner after checking on Charmion—she and the baby had come through the trauma of the fire with little more than shock and minor burns—winked at Joelle. “His goddess is more likely to forget he exists and go off and leave him.”

“Unfortunately, that’s true.” Joelle rested her shoulder against Schuyler’s in a gratifyingly intimate fashion. “I depend on him to come after me and remind me I’m attached. But seriously”—she thumped his ear when he leaned in a little too close for her sense of propriety—“does anybody know what’s going on with the investigation? Who killed the judge? And when are they going to round up that gang of criminals who burned the church and our buildings and destroyed the newspaper office?”

Putting a hand to his stinging ear, Schuyler gave her a wounded look. “That hurt! And if you must know, the man who was here this afternoon was a federal marshal. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what Levi said. They went to get a warrant signed by a federal judge Levi knows in Memphis. As soon as they get back, I’ll be called in as a witness, and of course Lemuel and Georgia Frye as well. I’m sure we’ll have a proper trial eventually. As to who killed the judge, the shot came from the balcony in the courtroom, and I don’t know if anybody will admit they saw who did it. Anyone who speaks out against that crowd is subject to the worst intimidation.”

Everyone around the table looked at him, and Joelle sobered. “Schuyler, that means you.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable that he’d drawn attention to himself. “They’ve done their worst to me. But we’ve got to stand our ground to stop the violence. Fear isn’t helping anything.” He hesitated. “Joelle, you know your preacher was up to his neck in it, don’t you? He was present at two of the meetings I attended, and I saw him breaking into the newspaper office.”

She bit her lip. “I suspected. But nobody will do anything about it as long as the leaders go unchecked.”

He squeezed her hand to comfort her. “As I said, the authorities are coming. Justice is coming.” He looked at the dining room doorway, where Horatia stood looking uncharacteristically flustered. “And dessert is apparently coming. What’s the matter, Horatia?”

“The baby,” the cook blurted, sagging against the doorframe. “Dr. Kidd, I need you to come quickly, please. Nathan ran all the way from our house to tell me the baby is coming early.”

Just a few minutes shy of midnight, ThomasAnne bounced into the parlor to share the news that Benjamin Schuyler Lawrence had made a screaming, but otherwise healthy appearance. Apparently, ThomasAnne had been quietly training with Doc as a midwife for the last two months, without telling a soul.

Joelle, who had been reading on the sofa while Schuyler kept himself awake by instructing Delfina and Mr. Volker at billiards, put down her book and listened to her cousin’s excited and rather lurid description of the birth with half an ear. Aurora and Selah had already gone to bed, and Joelle began to wish she had had the sense to do likewise.

When ThomasAnne finally ran out of words and retired to the manager’s cottage, Joelle got up and tapped Schuyler, presently bent over the pool table, on the arm. “Come here, please.”

He looked around and gave her a slow smile that sent a slide of something delicious through her veins. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” But he handed his cue to Volker. “You’re on your own, Cousin. Where are we going?” he said to Joelle.

“Nowhere dangerous.” She led him into the rotunda and sat down at the foot of the stairs.

He joined her, sitting close, and picked up her hand to lace his fingers with hers. “It’s really late.”

“I know. I won’t keep you but a minute.”

“You can keep me forever.”

She smiled. “I just wanted to tell you that we’ll be getting a dog.”

He blinked. “O—kay. Any particular reason?”

“Well, it’s just I’m not sure we’ll be having children. You’ll need something to keep you busy.”

He laughed. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you hear what she said?”

“Who?”

“ThomasAnne! Having a baby sounds painful!”

He propped his elbow on his knee, rested his head in his hand, and looked at her sideways. “You know you think too much, right?”

“I can’t help it! I’ve been reading about it too, because nobody will talk to me about the—the physical part of being married, and I’m a little—well, no, I’m a lot scared.” She’d asked Doc to loan her a couple of books on the subject, and what she’d learned would have curled her hair if it hadn’t been naturally in ringlets already. “Schuyler, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this after all.”

“Really?” His eyes half closed. His lips were almost on hers before she realized what he was doing.

“No!” She jerked back. “Don’t do that right now! I’m serious!”

He sighed. “Reese was right. You are extremely hard work. Listen to me.” He picked up her hand and kissed her thumb. “We don’t have to get a dog. Hilo is mine, so we’ll bring her home with us, wherever we wind up living. You like Hilo, right?” When she nodded suspiciously, he kissed her index finger. “So we’ll start out slow, just you and me and Hilo.” He kissed her middle finger, and she melted a little. “When you get used to me kissing you, we’ll figure out the next step.” He kissed the finger with the ring on it. “I guarantee you, by the time we go swimming together a few times, you won’t even be thinking about children.” He kissed her pinky and waited, looking at her with those ocean-gray eyes.

“I liked going swimming,” she said cautiously.

“Right, then. That’s all we’ll do until you’re ready. Joelle,” he said, cradling her hand close to his cheek, “I love you so much that if that’s all we ever do, I’d be happy just to live with you and talk to you and sleep next to you and read your book. But I think you’re going to have to trust me when I say the rest of it is going to be pretty spectacular as well—fireworks, if you like. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Something flowered in her stomach, forcing out anxiety and other nasty things that her imagination had allowed to grow there. It flowered in her heart and in her mind and in her spirit. She turned her hand and cupped his cheek. “Schuyler Beaumont, I love you. I can’t wait to marry you, with or without your dog.”

“Whew,” he said.