“The sheriff is a friend of mine. He’ll be interested in what you have to say. If the fire was started, then the man responsible should be caught and made to pay.”
“Aye, whoever the begger was, he should’ve set another fagot over his handiwork to destroy it. There be enough proof to show the sheriff an’ make him believe.”
Ashton’s eyes flitted over the bedraggled figures gathered around the campfire, taking note of the mixed gender. “I see you have women here, too.”
“Madness an’ misfortune are not confined to men, sir,” Peter responded laconically. “It attacks where it wills…even children.”
Ashton had promised Dr. Page he would make an inquiry, but he did so with distaste, feeling as if he were being disloyal to Lierin by allowing the question to come into his mind. “Are there any women missing?”
“As a matter o’ fact, sir, there is one. I’m thinkin’ she escaped from the house, but I canna be sure. Who’s to say? She might’ve gotten scared an’ run back in.” He paused again and thoughtfully chewed on his lip. “She was a strange one…She didn’t seem that bad off generally…then there were times when I thought she was a ravin’ lunatic. Somethin’ would set her off, an’ then I think she could’ve killed a mon.”
An icy rivulet trickled along Ashton’s spine. He could not say what had caused Lierin to react in such a panic before he left her. He kept telling himself it could be explained with a plausible reason, but even so, he was half afraid of making further inquiries.
“The attendant who’s missin’ watched after her a bit,” Peter continued, taking the decision from him. “Every now an’ then, he’d bring her a pretty or two, maybe somethin’ to wear or a wee comb or whatnot. She wasna too hard to look at when she was in her right mind.”
“Was she young…?” Ashton awaited the man’s reply with bated breath, not knowing why he should even feel the least bit unsettled or anxious about the woman. Surely it couldn’t be Lierin they were discussing.
“Fairly young, I’d be sayin’, but this kind o’ place has a way o’ agin’ a body. Who knows her age? At least she was still young enough to have her natural hair color….”
“And that would be?”
“A reddish hue, if I recall aright.”
Ashton stared at the man as the churning of dread began anew in his stomach. By dint of will, he forced himself on to another topic, not wishing to arouse the man’s curiosity by his interest. “What will you do now?”
“I canna say, sir. There’s a place in Memphis where we can go, but I’ve no way o’ gettin’ them there.”
“I have a way,” Ashton stated after a thoughtful pause and, at the man’s look of surprise, explained: “I can arrange for a steamer to take you there. In fact, there’s one at the docks now.”
Peter was truly astounded by his generosity. “And ye’d do this for”-he waved his hand to indicate the ragged misfortunates who made up his camp-“these people?”
“Their plight seemed very distant to me…until today. I would like to do something more than donate a few baskets of clothing and food.”
A sudden smile broke upon Peter’s countenance. “If ye be really serious about the offer, sir, then I’ll be more’n willin’ to accept. Whene’er ye tell us, we’ll be ready to move.”
“I’ll make the arrangements and notify you when you’re to leave. It shouldn’t be too long, only a few days or so. The steamer has to unload and take on supplies.”
Peter glanced about at the facilities that had been erected only that morning. “I managed to borrow these tents from the railroad, but the men there told me I’d be havin’ to bring everything back ’fore the month was out. I was wonderin’ how we were goin’ to manage after that. Now it seems me prayers have been answered. I canna thank ye enough, sir.”
Ashton shook the man’s hand in farewell and returned to the carriage. As he leaned back in the seat, he released a long sigh. It would probably work out well for all concerned if Peter Logan took his band of misfits to Memphis. Then he could be assured that Lierin and Peter would never meet.
The sun played out the day and had settled behind a billowing froth of vivid hues on the western horizon before Ashton concluded his business in Natchez and his carriage was seen coming up the drive. The house rang with Luella May’s strident announcement, prompting Marelda to check her appearance quickly in the silvered glass and apply a fresh touch of her favorite perfume to her temples and behind each earlobe. She was determined to dominate as much of Ashton’s attention as she could and planned to extend her visit to the plantation in order to fight for what she considered was hers. Once her adversary sank her hooks into Ashton and he became totally convinced that she was his wife, the game would be lost. Invitations to Belle Chêne would be limited. Ashton would become the doting husband again, and if the last time could be used as an example, no other woman would command his notice for more than a nominal length of time.
Leaving her guest room, Marelda moved down the hall, but paused in the shadows beyond the upper balustrade as she heard the low murmur of exchanged greetings in the front foyer. Ashton came into the main hall, and was followed by Willis and Luella May, who bore several elaborately tied boxes. Marelda’s envy seethed anew as she took note of the fancy dressmaker’s boxes. Anyone could tell the contents had not been procured at the general store, but had been purchased from the most successful and expensive couturier’s shop in Natchez. It seemed that Ashton was eager to outfit his so-called wife in the finest apparel.
“Miz Lierin’s asleep, Massa Ashton,” Luella May informed him. “She ain’t woke up hardly none at all since yo been gone. Doctah Page come, an’ he say she jes’ plum tuckered out.”
“I won’t disturb her then,” Ashton replied and gestured for the pair to leave the boxes on the sideboard. “Willabelle can take these things up later.”
Luella May set her parcels down and could not resist caressing the silken bows. “Yo musta bought somepin real pretty fo’ Miz Lierin.”
“Only a few essentials to tide her over until Miss Gertrude can send out some of the rest. They should be delivered later this week.” He lifted the corner of a smaller box with a finger and grimaced ruefully. “At least, it seemed like only a few when I left the shop.”
The servants left the hall, and Marelda smoothed her gown and hair in anticipation of meeting Ashton, preparing herself to flow into view when he reached the upper level. He had ascended only three steps when a booming bass voice sounded from the back of the house. Much to Marelda’s disappointment, Ashton turned and promptly descended the stairs again. A huge black strode into view, meeting Ashton in the middle of the lower hall where they clasped hands in a hearty greeting that bespoke of a close friendship.
“Judd! It’s good to see you.”
“Welcome home, suh.”
Marelda’s lip curled in repugnance as she observed the two from her lofty niche. She could not understand their bond, and vowed if she ever became mistress of Belle Chêne, she would see the black displaced as overseer and his friendship with Ashton terminated. Such familiarity with a servant was most degrading.
“I’m anxious about the spring planting,” Ashton said to the black, “and I have a few ideas I’d like to discuss.”
“Yo wants to see Miz Lierin now, suh. Ah come back later,” Judd offered.
“Luella May said she was sleeping, so I won’t disturb her. Come to my study, and we’ll talk about the planting now. I suppose you heard about the accident….”
The two men turned away from the stairs, leaving Marelda to fume in outraged frustration. It was apparent she would have to wait if she wanted a private moment with the master of the house.
Wait indeed! Ashton devoted himself to making arrangements for the steamboat’s journey to Memphis, sometimes coming home too late to take the evening meal with the family. While the cargo from the trip downriver was being unloaded, Ashton spread the word abroad that the stern-wheeler would be making the short jaunt upriver, and there would be room enough for some cargo if any of the planters or merchants had a need for shipment to or from the other city. Contracts were hurriedly drawn up, and merchandise and goods began to arrive even before the old was gone. From all indications the trip would not be one of loss.