Because of Rebecca(19)

“More candidly? How can you be more?” Josephine asked.

Sybil and Jenny snickered.

“May we come in?” Constance asked.

She pressed her lips together and reached behind her to open the door.

“Charlotte, change of plans. I’ll be having company for a while. Will you run down to the store and see if you can get me the spool of thread?”

“Yes, miss.” Charlotte dipped a curtsey. “Should I order a pot of tea sent up from the dining room?”

Josephine looked at her guests and when they nodded in agreement she consented. “Yes, please do.”

“Anything else, miss?” Charlotte asked, taking the spool from her and a coin.

“That will be all.” Josephine removed her bonnet and turned to the ladies. “Please, have a seat.”

“You’re servant is well mannered,” Constance commented.

“You were saying about Mr. Hollingsworth?”

“It’s really quite simple,” Constance continued. “He’s not accepted in polite society.”

“And why is that?”

“Really, Josephine,” Jenny scoffed. “Do we have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes, I’m afraid you do. What has Mr. Hollingsworth done to receive such disapproval from the Ladies’ Auxiliary?”

“It isn’t just the auxiliary,” Jenny pointed out.

“Have you been to his plantation?” Constance asked.

“As a matter of fact I have.”

“Did you notice anything strange?” Sybil inquired.

“Strange?”

“Yes, strange,” Jenny added.

Josephine thought on this a moment. She’d been in his house and then in the garden. She drank coffee. Then his driver brought her and Rebecca back to town.

“Nothing peculiar comes to mind.”

“Nothing peculiar,” Sybil and Jenny said in unison and giggled.

“The servants…?” Constance prodded, sounding impatient.

“What about the servants?”

Constance pursed her lips together. “Most of his servants are like your Charlotte. And we won’t speak of the others.”

My Charlotte? The others?

“Oh, you mean...” Realization dawned on Josephine and she didn’t like it. “What’s wrong with that?”

Jenny folded her hands in her lap. “What’s wrong with it is no other plantation is run that way.”

“It just isn’t done,” Sybil remarked.

A knock on the suite door stopped Josephine from commenting.

“Come in,” she called and a waiter rolled in the tea trolley then exited, shutting the door.

Her ire with the women for their narrow mindedness rose. The audacity that they came to visit her out of Christian duty was laughable.

“Frankly ladies, I don’t think it is any of our business how Mr. Hollingsworth chooses to run his plantation.” She poured tea. “If he prefers hired labor to purchasing—”

“But—but,” Jenny sputtered, taking the cup from Josephine. “It can lead to unrest at other plantations.”

“There’s even been word around town that a plantation over in McCleary County had a girl run off in broad daylight. They’ve not even been able to find her,” Sybil added.

“Do you think other owners want this to happen to them?” Constance asked. “I know my Hiram opposed it when he was alive.”

“No, I’m sure they don’t. But it doesn’t mean it will happen. Surely the good people of Jackson aren’t going to hold this against Mr. Hollingsworth?”

The three women exchanged glances, set their untouched cups on the table, and stood in unison to leave.

“I thought you’d see reason, Josephine. You didn’t appear to be so naïve when Ancil brought you to the auxiliary. I’m afraid in lieu of this revelation we will no longer need your services.”

Josephine stared at the women. “Constance, you don’t mean that?”

“Yes I do. And if you or your niece continues to associate with Mr. Hollingsworth, you will no longer be welcome at St. Anna’s for worship. I will see to that.”

Jenny and Sybil nodded in agreement.

“You can’t do that. I don’t believe Father Bohannon would allow it.”

“We can and we will,” Jenny assured her.

“We’ll also need your sewing project back, if you don’t mind.” Sybil picked up the quilt topper lying on Josephine’s sewing basket and examined the material. “Nice stitching. I’ll finish this for you.”

Josephine grabbed the topper out of Sybil’s hands. “No you won’t. If the good ladies of the auxiliary won’t allow me to finish this for the orphanage then I’ll do it on my own. I know the perfect plantation where they’ll appreciate true Christian charity.”

She marched to the suite door not believing the lengths these narrow-minded biddies were taking. “Ladies, before you go I must ask where in the Good Book does it say you have replaced God on His throne and man should now live by your rules?”

The trio gasped and crossed themselves.

She jerked open the door and stepped out of the way. “I bid you good day.”

The clicking sound of their self-righteous heels filled the hallway as the women descended the stairs.

Josephine slammed the door and stormed across the room, pacing back and forth. Who did they think they were, coming into her suite and telling her whom Rebecca could or could not see?

“Are you all right, Miss Josephine?” Charlotte asked, returning from the errand.

Josephine ignored the girl. Realization of what she’d done shook her. By defending Mr. Hollingsworth, she had no doubt labeled herself a pariah. If word spread of this then she could be run out of Jackson.

“Miss Josephine?”

“I’m fine,” She answered through clenched teeth.

“Are you sure?”

She swung around, fixing her stare on Charlotte. “Yes I’m sure. I don’t want you saying a word about this to Rebecca. She doesn’t need to know I’ve been banished from working with the Ladies’ Auxiliary.”

“Mon Dieu!” Charlotte crossed herself.

Josephine faintly smiled at the young woman. “Help yourself to tea if you like. No one touched it. I’m going to take a walk to clear my head.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Certainly,” Josephine grunted. It would take more than a walk to cool her temper, but she needed to regain composure before she warned Rebecca.

As she walked along the street, she contemplated how she would approach the subject with her niece. She would make it clear she did not oppose Mr. Hollingsworth. Heaven knew they’d butted heads enough on the issue of Mariah to last a lifetime. She longed to bare her soul to Rebecca about her past. However, until Rebecca married it would have to wait.

More importantly, she would no longer live her life in fear of what others thought. Being a part of a women’s charity society did not have to be her calling, especially if the women who comprised it were like Constance and her followers.

“Hello, Josephine,” a deep, male voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up, surprised to find herself standing in the small yard outside of Ancil Gordon’s house.

“G-good afternoon, Ancil.”

“Is everything all right?” he asked and set down a toolbox. He wiped his hands on a rag and closed the screen door he’d been repairing.

“I’m out for a walk,” she explained and noticed his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The sinewy veins on his tanned forearms spoke of his strength. The bronze coloring of his skin piqued her curiosity. Why had she never noticed this before?

Her pulse quickened at the thought of him shirtless standing before her and she wondered if he worked with his shirt off when no one was around.

“And you ended up at this end of town?”

“What? Uh- yes. Imagine that.”

“The mind can cause a person to do peculiar and even unexplainable things. Your walking this way had to be for a reason. Are you sure I can’t help you with something?”

“No, thank you.” Nothing that’s proper for an unmarried woman.

“Everyone’s fine?”

“Yes.”

He shoved his glasses onto the top of his head, rubbed his eyes, and let the glasses fall back into place. “The sun sure is hot this afternoon.”

“Yes it is.” She felt perspiration begin to bead at the back of her neck. Whether from the heat of the day or her illicit thoughts she didn’t know.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said would you like to have dinner with me? I hear the dining room at the hotel is having an Italian extravaganza tonight. I thought about going. Would you like to join me?”