Ashton's smile wavered and faded away; although there was absolutely no way these people could threaten her any longer, she was nervous. She cleared her throat and said to Virgilia, "My dear, is that an engagement ring?"
"Yes, it is."
"Very handsome. Congratulations. I should like to meet the gentleman." What her tone tried to convey was, I should like to meet the man desperate enough to marry an ox like you.
Virgilia seemed to catch that. "I don't really think you would. He's a colored man."
Ashton could have gone all the way through the ground to China. Even Charles looked thunderstruck. Ashton began to feel annoyed and genuinely upset by this queer confrontation in the dark bare room. "Well, that certainly is a piece of news. I wonder, could we just get on with this?"
"Immediately," Virgilia said, "Charles and I would like you to sign something, that's all."
Ashton tittered. "Sign? For mercy's sake, what are you talking about?"
Virgilia picked up the reticule lying on a crate. From it she drew a single sheet of stiff paper, folded twice. She unfolded it. "This. There's a pen in one of these boxes. It will only take a moment."
"What is it? What the hell are you talking about?" She was angry over the mummery.
"A very simple legal document," Virgilia said. "It transfers the title to Mont Royal to Hazard's of Pennsylvania, for a dollar and other considerations."
That was even more shocking than the news about Virgilia's intended. Ashton's mouth opened, and her eyes widened. She gaped at them as if they were crazy people. She abandoned all pretense of politeness:
"You Yankee bitch. You fat whore. What are you thinking? Have you drunk yourself into a state?"
"I suggest you calm down, Cousin," Charles said behind her.
"You shut your mouth, you goddamn good-for-nothing. You're both ready for the asylum. There's no consideration on God's earth that could make me sign that, and you're lint-headed fools even to think it."
"Perhaps this consideration would influence you," Virgilia said. From the shelf she took the amber bottle. She showed it, stoppered, in her open palm.
Ashton's squeal went right up the scale. "Oh, what a fool you are — an idiot! A complete ninny! I always thought you were a crazy woman, now I'm sure. Get that out of my sight, whatever it is. Charles, you open the door."
She stormed toward him, only to stop abruptly when he stayed put, arms still folded. He frightened her.
"Do you think" — Ashton's voice quavered just a little — "do you think some shabby little gift would do anything, anything at all, to influence me? Mont Royal's mine, and I'm taking it."
"Gift?" Virgilia repeated with a puzzled smile. The smile disappeared as though a curtain had come down. "For the likes of you?" Ashton felt a distinct chill. What in God's name were they up to? "Stand fast, Charles. Don't let her out."
Ashton's heaving bodice showed her agitation. She seemed to lose an inch or so of height. Her black-gloved hands fisted at her waist. "What's going on here? What is that bottle?"
Virgilia drew out the stopper. "It's something for your face, but it isn't perfume." She held out the bottle. "Oil of vitriol."
Charles said, "Sulfuric acid."
Ashton screamed.
It didn't disturb Virgilia. "Go ahead, yell. That feeble lawyer of yours has gone off to find his helpers. If he hadn't, Willa was prepared to lure him away. You'll have witnesses to support anything you say about this conversation."
Ashton held still, trembling. From the corner of her eye, she gauged the distance to Charles. A fly buzzed near Virgilia's forehead. Ashton clenched her fists and cried, "Favor!"
Silence. Virgilia smiled in a dreamy way. "My dear, it's no use. Even if he were standing right outside and tried to force the door, I'd still have plenty of time to splash this all over you." The smile grew broader. "You know I wouldn't hesitate. I'm a Yankee who hates you and your kind and I'm crazy to boot. So I suggest you sign. There's an old quill and some ink in that box right beside you."
"A paper like that — it's no good," Ashton raved. "I can take it to court. I can take you to court. I only have to say that you forced me —"
"Why, there's no duress," Charles said gently. "I'm a witness. There are two of us to testify that you signed voluntarily. Where are your witnesses to say otherwise?"
"Damn you. Damn you!" .
"Ashton, you're wasting your energy for nothing," Virgilia said. "This paper is perfectly legal, and it will be legal after you sign it. We can hire the best lawyers in the nation to guarantee it. As many lawyers as it takes. My brother George can easily afford that, and a lot more. So be sensible. Sign."
Ashton screamed again.
Virgilia sighed. "Charles, I'm afraid we miscalculated. Her appearance isn't important to her any more."
"Her face, you mean —"
"Yes. Her face."
Virgilia held out the open amber bottle and started walking toward Ashton. Ashton pressed her wrists to her temples and screamed for a full five seconds. Then she sagged to her knees, rooting in the box. "I'll sign. Don't hurt my face. I'll sign it. Here, I'm signing it —"
She spilled the vial of ink as she dipped the quill in. Huge black spots spread on the rose pink bodice and skirt from Worth's. Spots of ink fell like black tears on the margin of the paper she didn't bother to read. She flung it on top of a stack of books for support, then signed her name.
"There, goddamn you. There." Tears coursed down her face. Her hand was shaking visibly as she thrust the paper at Virgilia.
Virgilia took it and examined the signature. Ashton tottered to her feet, sweaty, pale, breathing noisily. She dropped the quill. It bounced off her skirt, leaving another stain. The vial of ink lay on its side on the floor, gurgling as it emptied itself into a black pool.
Virgilia nodded and raked her cheeks with her nails, screaming like a harpy. "You Yankee bitch!" Her nails drew blood. "You've destroyed me!"
"With a little well water? I hardly think so. Let her out, Charles."
He stood back and opened the door. Sunlight spilled in, lighting the pool of ink. Outside, he saw Madeline and Willa, both anxiously watching the doorway. Farther down the lawn, Gus pointed out something on the river for the paunchy bailiff.
"Goodbye, Ashton," he said.
She screamed as she ran past.
The barouche went down the lane even faster than it had come up, taking Ashton away. The clerks and Favor Harrington, Esquire, showed up an hour later. The bailiff had already taken the other carriage. The bewildered lawyer and his clerks had to walk back to Charleston.
Union Pacific and Central Pacific lines meet in Utah, creating transcontinental railroad.
Samuel Clemens publishes a best-seller, Innocents Abroad.
Jay Gould and Jim Fisk manipulate gold market on "Black Friday"; thousands of small investors ruined.
John D. Rockefeller organizes Standard Oil of Ohio.
Congress passes first Force Bill to guarantee civil rights, stop anti-Negro terrorism in the South.
Washington receives first black Senator, Hiram Revels of Mississippi, and first black Representative, Joseph Rainey of South Carolina.
Professional baseball players form the National League.