Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [17]
Tessie stood in the shadows beside the carriage house, her white chemise bright in the half-moon’s light. Josiah had her wrapped in his brawny arms, just as he’d clasped his mother a few hours earlier. Then he bent and began kissing Tessie’s neck, and her soft laughter floated up to me in the quiet night. I quickly turned away, closing the shutters once again.
I left for Hilltop with my cousin Jonathan early the next morning, traveling northeast from the city on the Mechanicsville Turnpike. Tessie rode on the driver’s seat beside Josiah, but neither of them spoke a single word. In fact, they acted as if they were perfect strangers, never so much as glancing at each other. It made me wonder if I had dreamt the scene by the carriage house last night.
“Why doesn’t your family ever come out to Hilltop?” Jonathan asked as we rode along beneath a scorching July sun.
“I don’t know. Too far away, I guess.”
Jonathan grunted derisively. “It’s not that far—only three hours or so from Richmond by carriage. My father makes the trip into Richmond about once a month.”
I wanted to ask why Jonathan’s father never visited us, but I didn’t dare. “Daddy talks about Hilltop sometimes,” I said. “He told me it’s the plantation where he grew up. That’s all I know, though.”
“Want me to tell you about it?”
“Yes, please.”
He laughed, and when I asked him what was so funny, he shook his head. “You won’t need your fancy city manners at Hilltop. . . . Anyway, my father is William P. Fletcher II, the older brother. He and Grandfather manage the plantation together. I mean, they did until . . .”He leaned his head back against the seat, struggling for control.
“You’re very fond of your grandfather, aren’t you?”
“He’s your grandfather, too, you know,” Jonathan said hoarsely.
I nodded, waiting until he could continue.
“Your father is the younger brother,” he finally said. “He runs the business side of things in Richmond—operating the warehouses, selling the wheat or tobacco or whatever else we grow. Our fathers are supposed to be partners, but you’d never know it. They barely speak to each other. I don’t know what that’s all about exactly, but I have an idea.”
“Tell me.”
“Your father started buying and selling for other plantations besides Hilltop. He started importing coffee from South America and stuff from Europe and began making a lot of money. But I heard Grandfather say that his money is tainted. He won’t touch any of it.”
My stomach lurched at the thought of my daddy doing something wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t be discussing such things with Jonathan.
“Anyway,” he continued with a shrug, “none of that matters now. Grandfather is ill, so the family will all come together. Our fathers also have two sisters. Aunt Abigail is married and lives in Hanover County. Have you ever met her?”
I shook my head.
“You will. My brother was sent to fetch her. The youngest sister is Aunt Catherine, who married a planter from Savannah and lives down in Georgia. I sent her a telegram yesterday from Richmond, before I came to your house.”
It felt strange to learn about all of these relatives for the first time. I repeated their names to myself so I wouldn’t forget them— Uncle William, Aunt Abigail, Aunt Catherine.
“You have two more cousins at Hilltop besides me. My brother Will is the oldest; he’s seventeen.”
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen. We had a sister who died when she was just a baby, and another sister, Ruth, who died when she was eight. She would have been twelve by now if she’d lived. Then there’s Thomas, the baby. He’s six.”
Jonathan began explaining to me how they used to grow tobacco at Hilltop but had switched to wheat because tobacco “used up” the soil. I was only half listening. Instead, I gazed at Josiah’s broad back as we rode, remembering how I’d seen him kissing Tessie in the moonlight. Could Josiah be Grady’s father? Eli said Josiah was born in