Chapter Thirteen

The rest of the breakfast conversation was limited to that of polite small talk. Joanna informed Maggie and Max of the dinner schedule for the Christmas feast the following day and she asked them to be ready for Midnight Mass precisely at eleven o’clock in the evening.

A young Negro maid cleared her throat in the archway of the dining room and captured the attention of its occupants. She stood nervously, her head down with her chin on her chest. Her hands anxiously fiddled with her apron. Maggie wondered if she’d been inherited or purchased. The utter notion was barbaric, enough to put Maggie off of the breakfast that she was not particularly enjoying.

“Yes, Constance?” Isaac prompted. 

“Begging your pardon, Mr Lavelle,” Constance said quietly, “but there is a visitor at the door.”

“Oh, excellent,” Isaac said cheerfully. “Tell Mr Kincaid that Miss Maggie will greet him in a moment.”

At least Maggie now had the excuse to abandon the breakfast and the company. Aside from Max, of course. She hoped he would enjoy the beautiful day.

“Sorry, sir, but the visitor is not Mr Kincaid,” Constance said timidly, “but Miss Janna Sunderland. She wants to see Mr Montgomery.”

Maggie’s teeth clenched. The woman was persistent. And bold. Women did not call on men. Self-respecting women did not open themselves up to such an appearance of desperation. Max was under the impression that this Miss Janna was wealthy, but what if she wasn’t? Just because she said she was wealthy, that did not mean that it was true. She didn’t want to believe that Max was behaving quixotically but what if he was?  

Max grinned and dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin before rising from the table. “Excuse me,” he said politely. Max was a little too eager to meet with the woman for Maggie’s liking. She was all but scowling at the table.

“Invite Miss Janna for dinner,” Joanna said enthusiastically before Max left the dining room. “And if she wants, she can attend church with us, too.”

“I will ask,” was all Max offered in reply before he quickly disappeared to greet Janna.

“Janna is a good match,” Isaac said kindly. “Well done, sweetheart,” he commended, resting his hand on his wife’s forearm affectionately.

Joanna bowed her head, as if she were actually accepting congratulations. “I agree. They will do well together.”

Maggie, like always, could not hold her tongue. “How can you say that?” she exclaimed angrily.

Both Isaac and Joanna looked at Maggie with surprised expressions on their faces. “I beg your pardon?” Joanna asked sharply, arching a perfect, blonde brow.

“You have known Max for less than four and twenty hours and you are behaving as though you have extensively researched his likes and dislikes in order to find him a bride!” Maggie continued, huffing.

“Child, he is a man. His likes and dislikes are very limited,” Joanna said condescendingly.

“Jo,” Isaac muttered in warning.

“No, dear, I am being perfectly serious,” Joanna rebuffed. “Janna is gorgeous, wealthy and pleasant,” she said simply, “what else could young Maximus desire?”

Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “Let me think,” she replied sarcastically. “Perhaps a bride who shares her own opinion?” she suggested. “Perhaps a bride who might challenge him? Perhaps a bride who won’t always say ‘Yes, dear’?” The latter was a direct dig at Joanna and she knew it. Joanna’s face was like thunder. “And to further my point on you not knowing what is good for Max, his name is Maxwell. I know his Christian name is nothing of consequence as his father’s hotel empire is what attracted you to marrying him off in the first place. But just so you know, Max solicits my counsel on everything. I shan’t approve of your choice in bride so your hope in bringing the Montgomery fortune to Georgia will fail.” She rose from the table hastily while Isaac burst into a fit of hearty laughter.

“Oh, she has my mother’s sassiness and nerve, Jo, don’t you see it?” Isaac wheezed, hugging his stomach.

Maggie did not like that her very serious speech had received a laughing response. She was being perfectly serious. “Good morning,” she said dismissively before hurriedly exiting the dining room.

She decided to tour the plantation and see the cotton fields. It was a nice day to get lost for an hour or two. She did want to introduce herself to Isaac’s slaves. She wanted to give them reassurance, the kind of reassurance that she’d given to Nora. She wanted them to know that she understood what it was like to be separated. Of course, Maggie had never been mistreated and she would never try to pretend that she was like them, she only wanted to show them understanding and sympathy, something that may have been scare over the years.

She walked out the front door and heard distant voices on the porch around the corner. Max and Janna were talking around the side of the house but Maggie couldn’t quite hear what they were saying.

Maggie was very tempted to repeat her entire speech to Janna but before she could, she noticed a small, black carriage travelling down the driveway towards the house. Perhaps that was Zachary coming to call. She was much too irritated to behave in a ladylike manner. She couldn’t be the sweet, reserved young lady that Joanna had encouraged her to be around Zachary.

Sure enough, Zachary climbed out of the carriage as soon as it was stationary and smiled at Maggie, tipping his hat. He wore a clean, expensive suit that was tailored to his lean figure perfectly. He walked confidently over to Maggie and asked for her hand. She placed her hand in his and he kissed her knuckles delicately.

“You are just as beautiful in daylight as you were last night, Miss Maggie,” he said suavely, the words rolling off of his tongue seductively.

Maggie couldn’t help but blush, his charm helping to ease her anger. It was difficult to remain irritated when someone as amiable as Zachary Kincaid was around. Perhaps his visit would be a welcome distraction for her.

She smiled. “Thank you, Mr Kincaid.”

“Anytime, Miss Maggie,” he replied, winking. “Now, what is on the agenda for today, this Christmas Eve?”

“I was planning on taking a walk about the grounds to enjoy the sunshine,” Maggie told him.

“Allow me to escort you,” he offered kindly, holding out his arm. “I know the grounds well and I can answer any questions you have.”

Maggie took his arm, grateful for the company. Zachary began to lead her in the opposite direction to Max and Janna’s voices. Zachary and Maggie walked in and around large elm and oak trees and navigated themselves through exquisitely kept gardens.

“My aunt has a fondness for flowers. You should see the plantation in spring,” Zachary gushed, gesturing to the flower beds. “The colour is amazing.”

Spring was only a few months away. There was a good chance Maggie would see it so long as Joanna minded her own business.

Maggie lifted her head to the sky and closed her eyes, loving the feel of the sun on her face. While the outside temperature was mild, the shining sun kept the outdoors comfortably warm.

“Should we return so that you can fetch a hat or something, Miss Maggie?” Zachary asked. “I wouldn’t like to return you burnt.” He sounded quite concerned.

“Oh, no, do not fret,” Maggie assured him. “I do not burn.” She merely became quite tan. Perhaps she should fetch a bonnet. This was not an ideal place to have dark skin, as she had quickly realised. Her current companion didn’t seem to mind. “Walks in wintertime are a rarity in England,” she commented, changing the subject. “My father’s estate would be buried in three feet of snow about this time.” She laughed lightly.   

“Your adoptive father?” Zachary checked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

“Yes,” Maggie confirmed awkwardly. She was under the impression that her being adopted by an aristocratic British family might be something that the Lavelles wanted to keep quiet.

“Tell me about your life in England, Miss Maggie,” Zachary enquired, seeming genuinely interested.

“What would you like to know?”

“Tell me about your adopted family. Your adoptive father,” he prompted. “What is he like?”

Maggie smiled fondly. “He is the greatest man I know,” she replied sincerely. “He has protected me from the moment he found me, even when I didn’t want him to. He does that for those he loves. He protects and cares for his family and my brother, sisters and I know we are lucky to have him as a father. His name is Nathaniel Swift, and he is an earl, a British aristocrat and landowner, presiding over an estate called Montrose. In another life I am called Lady Maggie Swift.”

“He sounds like an extraordinary man,” replied Zachary.

“He is,” Maggie agreed.

“And you have adoptive siblings?” he continued.

“Yes.” Maggie nodded. “I have a ten year old brother, Edward. He is quite cheeky,” chucked Maggie. “He enjoys teasing my sisters and me. I look forward to him growing up. He will be going off to Eton in a few years so that is when I think it will happen,” she mused. “Eton is a prestigious boarding school for boys,” Maggie clarified.

“Your father attended Eton?”

“Yes,” Maggie replied. “He and my Uncle Emmett became friends there. They were quite naughty and were constantly in trouble.” She rolled her eyes at some of the stories that Emmett and Nate boasted about. “They still hold the record for the number of canings received. They also hold the record for the longest time spent locked in a cupboard.”

Zachary chuckled. “They sound like entertaining men.”

“My father is married to Emmett’s younger sister, Charlotte, my mother,” Maggie added.

“Your adoptive mother?”

Maggie was starting to dislike the word ‘adoptive’. They were her family, blood or not.

Zachary seemed to sense her coolness. “You mentioned sisters,” he continued, changing the subject.

Maggie was glad to speak about her sisters. “Yes, I have two,” she replied. “Georgie in nine years old and Lizzie is seven. I adore them,” she gushed. “I love that they are still little and that they depend on me. I dread to think of them growing up and being presented into society.”   

They walked up to the edge of a hill. Down below was an expansive, flat field that was a sea of dark soil. Men were scattered as far as the eye could see holding hoes, overturning the soil. The land size was enormous, at least five times the size of her Uncle Emmett’s flat green at Ascot. The same elm trees bordered the flat growing field, framing the scene.

“Incredible,” she breathed. This was all to be hers?

“It is plain now,” Zachary explained, “as the cotton was harvested in the fall. But the seeds will be planted again come spring. The cotton plants are quite majestic. Little, white tufts of cotton just sprout. It’s really quite amazing.”

“What are they doing?” Maggie asked, gesturing to the men in the field.

“Preparing the soil for the new crop,” Zachary explained. “The field has to be perfect ready for planting season. The estate’s yearly income solely depends on the harvest. This year was fruitful. We can only hope to have another good year.”

Several of the men began to notice Maggie and Zachary standing atop then hill and the paused work for the smallest of moments to stare at them. She could not quite decipher their expressions from the distance but she hoped they would view her in a positive light. There was only one way to ensure that. “I would like to meet them,” Maggie announced. She began to descend the hill but Zachary caught her arm.

“Miss Maggie, no,” he said firmly.

“Why ever not?” she demanded to know.

He pursed his lips. “They have important work to do and you shouldn’t distract them. They need to make up tomorrow’s work today as Isaac has decided to give them a day off for the holiday.”

“They do not have time to themselves?” Maggie asked in disbelief. “Not even on Christmas?”

“This is the South, Maggie,” Zachary said simply. “Things are done a little differently here.”

“So I’ve been told,” Maggie muttered to herself. Off to her left, she noticed a large oak tree that was casting a large shadow. In and amongst the bare branches, she could see a few children playing. Their laughter carried. Their playing reminded her of her love of climbing trees and she longed to join them. Without seeking permission, she started towards the tree, ignoring Zachary’s questions behind her.

There were two young boys in the tree, one hanging from a large bough the other was tangled in between the high branches.

“Hello, boys,” Maggie said in a cheerful tone.

They both looked down to see Maggie standing below. They exchanged a frightened look and climbed down quickly. The elder of the boys smoothed the younger’s shirt. Maggie thought the action quite adorable, as if they were seeking her approval.

“You needn’t be afraid of me,” she assured them, “I am a friend.”

The boys were not as dark as the men working the fields. Instead they looked as if they were deeply tanned. That horrid word that she’d been called on the ship came to mind. It was quite possible that these boys had one white and one Negro parent.

“Don’t say anything, Albert,” hissed the elder boy. “She’s the master’s daughter.”

Maggie recognised Albert’s name. Were these two Nora’s sons? “Anthony? Albert?”

Anthony’s dark eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

“Your mother told me,” she replied. “My name is Maggie.” She held out her hand to shake both of the boys’ hands.

They both timidly reciprocated the motion. As she shook Albert’s little hand, he smiled, exposing a set of little baby teeth. “You sound funny.”

Maggie laughed lightly. “I suppose I do sound funny to you, don’t I? I am from England.” It would be too confusing for little boys to learn that she was really from North Carolina but her accent was English due to her upbringing.

“You’ll tell Mr Kincaid that we were being good, won’t you?” Anthony asked Maggie, subtly nodding towards Zachary who was standing some twenty feet from them.

“Of course,” Maggie replied, quite confused.

“Good.” Anthony smiled. “Thank you, miss. Come on, Albert, let’s go.” Together, the boys ran off.

Maggie returned to Zachary quickly. She was glad that she was able to meet them but their behaviour was a little odd. “Why did those boys want me to tell you that they were being good?”

Zachary smiled slightly before rolling his eyes. “Children seem to always find mischief,” he replied simply. “It will be easier to control them when they are older and can work.”

Was that what those boys had to look forward to? Slavery? It hardly seemed fair or just. But Maggie could already predict Isaac and Zachary’s answer should she bring her worries and concerns to them. “Things are done differently in the South.”

Well, perhaps they shouldn’t be.

“You really love her, don’t you, Max?” Janna remarked.

Max had watched in helpless frustration and Maggie and Zachary had walked arm in arm together away from the house. It was as if everything they had talked about had gone in one ear and out the other when it came to Zachary Kincaid’s smouldering charm.

“I have loved Maggie Swift since the day I first saw her when we were both nine years old,” he confessed to Janna. “At nine years old I knew that I would one day marry her. I didn’t fully understand that love until I was older but I knew that I valued her above all others. It also wasn’t until I was older that I realised that we would not ever marry, that she loved me as though I were her brother.” He was utterly pathetic.

“What do you love about her?” Janna asked curiously. “What makes her so special?”

“Where to begin?” He sighed. “Do you mind if I go and fetch something? I will return straight away.”

“Of course,” Janna allowed.

Max quickly retreated back inside the house and returned within minutes with his drawings, pencils and some fresh paper. He sat back down on the porch swing with Janna and he handed her his drawings.

Janna, intrigued, began to flip through his many, many drawings of Maggie. They were often scenes where they’d be going about their daily business. He’d draw her reading or playing the pianoforte or climbing a tree.

“You are a very talented and she is certainly very beautiful,” Janna commented, “or perhaps you edit out her flaws when you draw her profile,” she said teasingly.

“She has none,” Max replied simply. “Maggie is a rare creature within the ton,” he explained. “So many of the people we encounter want for nothing. They’ve never had to go hungry. They’ve never had to wear rags for clothing. They’ve never been illiterate. She understands. She has such a caring and compassionate nature and it is impossible not to care for her.”

Max began to run his pencil over the blank page, sketching the shape of Janna’s face.

“By the way you describe her, she sounds like a saint,” mused Janna, smiling up at him.

“She is genuine,” said Max, “the most genuine person I have ever met.”

Janna closed his drawing book and set it aside before edging closer to him on the porch swing. “Max, what good does this do?” she asked simply.

“I beg your pardon?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“It is not me that you should be saying these wonderful things to.” Janna took Max’s hand in hers. “It is Maggie,” she urged. “If she heard this then she would most likely cry hysterically and confess the same feelings.”

“Or she would feel like she could never be in the same room with me again. I cannot risk confessing. Her aunt is my step mother. My grandfather is married to her grandmother. My sisters are her friends! Confessing to such feelings would be very reckless. It is not only our friendship I risk ruining, but the harmony of our families.”

Janna pursed her lips. “Your family sounds very complex,” she remarked.

“Just large is all,” Max replied comically.

Janna huffed. “Well, if you cannot just confess, then you must change how she sees you. You must portray yourself as a romantic prospect. Dancing together last night was just the beginning and it did capture her attention. She was watching me very suspiciously.”

Max smiled slightly. If only Janna knew the nature of Maggie’s suspicions. “A romantic prospect seems a little farfetched when Prince Charming is waltzing about.”

“Hold my hand,” Janna instructed, “we must practice as not to look awkward when we do it before Maggie. You must behave affectionately with me. Brush my hair away from my face, place your hand on the small of my back and lead me into a room and pay me nice compliments. I imagine these are things you have done with Maggie before now.”

Max merely nodded. He was often in contact with her in such ways.

“Good. You’ve said that you grew up with Maggie so of course she has only know you as a friend and brother. Boys discover girls much earlier than girls discover boys. You have not changed to her since you were nine years old. I am going to change that. As I said last night, women only realise what they want when they no longer have it, especially when it comes to our gentleman callers. As soon as she sees the attention you usually pay to her on me she will realise just what you mean to her, I promise you.” Janna smiled reassuringly.  

Max continued to draw Janna, attempting to capture the confidence her blue eyes. “I don’t understand you, Janna. Why would you offer to do this for me?”

Janna’s smile widened. “Because, Max, you are the most genuine person I’ve ever met and your Maggie does not understand how lucky she is. You are a boy raised right and you deserve to marry your Maggie.” She giggled. “I also enjoy being theatrical,” she added.

“Thank you, Janna,” Max said gratefully. “I do hope your plan works.”

“It will,” she said confidently. “But first things first. I want you to finish this drawing. I feel very honoured that an artist is drawing me.” She grinned and straightened her posture, ready for Max to complete his picture.

Max could see the logic in Janna’s plan, he only hoped that Maggie would not start to resent him for it. He could see her being angry with him because of her suspicions of Janna. It was very possible that Maggie would believe that Max was ignoring her warnings. He would just have to have faith.

---

I meant to get this up yesterday but I completely forgot I agreed to coach a round robin up at my netball club yesterday. I got a text message yesterday morning saying "Do you have the fixture?" and I got up so fast, dressed in about ten minutes, and was up at the courts five minutes later :P But it was such a great day. My girls played ten games in a row so they were exhausted, but one of my little girls shot her first goal and she absolutely beamed at me. I was so proud :) They did so well, winning 8/10 games :)

But when I got home I was sooo tired. I got in my PJ's and went back to bed at 4 in the afternoon when my mum had an estate agent round to check out our house. We're selling it unfortunately :( My parent's acrimonious divorce has come to this which sucks but that's life. Anyway so the estate agent and my mum come into my room when I'm buried in blankets and pillows and he goes "Did she have a big night last night?" Yeah, mate ;) I plan on having a BIG night on October 21, the day of my last exam lol.

Anyways, bed time. Vote and comment!!