Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (18 page)

I startled awake in a heavy sweat. A loud
clap of thunder that shook the entire mansion had brought me out of
my dream.

It was early morning according to the clock,
though the sun was hidden behind black storm clouds. Exhausted, I
lay my head back against my pillow and closed my eyes, trying to
take myself back into the dream, wishing it were real. It had
seemed so real.

Again a clap of thunder boomed, this time
even louder, shaking the bed and rattling the windows. I heard
Eugenia’s voice in the back of my mind, commanding me to stop my
sinful yearning. “God will punish you,” I heard her say. “And you
will burn in hell, just like your mother!”

My eyes snapped open, and I instantly cursed
myself for allowing my dreams to take me to such wicked places. I
was annoyed that my body was reacting to such intimate thoughts, so
I grabbed hold of my Bible and prayed never to have such dreams and
thoughts again.

The storm blew in with violent fury and woke
the entire mansion. Mammy frantically knocked on everyone’s doors.
“You need to get up, Miss Amelia! Come to the cellar!” she yelled
over the hollering winds.

Several of the windows blew out on the second
floor, causing rain and wind to rush inside. In the distance, trees
snapped off their trunks and barreled onto the ground. I shot up
out of bed and opened the door.

“What’s going on?” Eugenia shouted, hurrying
down the hall with a lit lamp in hand.

“Got to be a twister, Mrs. Arrington. Can
smell it in the air. We need to hurry down to the cellar,
fast!”

Warren and Patrick bolted out of their rooms,
and without a word, Warren took hold of me while Patrick guided
Eugenia as quickly as possible down the grand staircase, through
the dining room, and into the kitchen where we had access to the
cellar stairs.

Hamilton and Hattie were nowhere in sight.
Mammy had Jacob Thomas already sitting in the far corner. He was
crying, and I ran to him and scooped him up, planting several
kisses on his wet cheeks.

“There, there Jacob. Everything will be
fine,” I hushed him.

“Hatt, Hatt,” he called out.

“Hattie will be here soon, Jacob.”

But I was more worried than I could have
revealed.

Outside the winds howled, sounding as if a
train were heading straight toward the mansion. Warren insisted
that Eugenia, Mammy, and I huddle in the corner while he and
Patrick shielded us from harm. The only light we had was Eugenia’s
one small lamp.

The cellar was eerie and damp. In all my
years on the plantation, never once had I ventured down those
stairs, but now I was grateful we had such a place, where we could
hope to keep safe from such a furious storm.

Jacob trembled and clung desperately onto me,
his eyes wide with fright. The mansion above us shook as if it
might be pulled off the foundation at any moment. Patrick backed up
against me, then peered down and shouted to be heard over the
storm, “Are you all right?”

I nodded, feeling safe in his presence.

But I knew Hattie was out there, and I prayed
that Hamilton was keeping her safe. I knew Mammy was praying as
well. She had her hands clasped together, and I could read her lips
as she mumbled the Lord’s Prayer. Eugenia appeared especially
frazzled and alarmed.

Suddenly there was an unnatural silence, and
we all looked to one another with apprehension. Then came a
tremendous rumble and a deafening howl. Patrick timed the tornado
perfectly and threw himself over Jacob and me, and Warren shielded
Eugenia and Mammy with his body as the tornado came through. I
buried my face against Patrick’s chest while Jacob froze in sheer
terror.

Above us we could hear the floor creaking and
banging and items crashing and breaking all around. Boxes on top
shelves came tumbling down around us, spilling their contents all
about.

The terror seemed to go on forever, and then
finally it was over. We all sat silent, listing to make certain the
storm was past and it was safe to venture out of the cellar. Even
Jacob stopped crying.

“I think it’s really over,” I said
quietly.

Patrick lifted himself up, and with Warren’s
help, removed many of the wooden boxes that were blocking the
stairs to the cellar door so they could lift it open. Warren tried
to lift it first and couldn’t. He banged it several times. “It’s
slammed shut. I think something landed on top of it.”

“Let me try,” Patrick said, and he attempted
with all his might to lift the door.

Out of breath, he came to the same
conclusion.

“The pantry must have fallen over,” Mammy
said.

“Or the entire roof collapsed on us,” I
said.

“Now don’t say such a thing,” Eugenia
snapped, insisting that the men keep trying to budge the door. But
it was to no avail. With bruised shoulders, they came and sat back
down next to me.

“Abigail, is there no other way out? Some
secret passageway I know nothing about? Please tell me now. I will
not reprimand you for keeping such a secret. We need to get out of
here.”

“No, Mrs. Arrington. Only other room down
here is the wine cellar over there.”

“We have plenty of food and drink until we
are rescued,” Warren observed.

There were baskets of vegetables and fruits,
enough to last a few days, if needed. Extra candles were stored
down in the cellar as well, and as the hour passed, we each lit our
own and took it to a corner. We kept ourselves occupied in one way
or another, hoping someone would lift the door open for us at any
moment.

Mammy sang softly to Jacob, and he fell into
a deep sleep. Eugenia rested her head against the cool rock wall
and dozed, while Warren nibbled on an apple ever so slowly, to make
it last, while he prepared rations for all of us. “Just in case we
are here for a day or two,” he said.

I made my way into the wine area and counted
all the bottles. There were literally hundreds. Patrick had
followed me in, and he took one and smashed the top against the
wall. There were several tin cups on the floor; obviously we
weren’t the first to be digging into the wine collection.

Patrick poured me a small cup, then filled
his to the top and said sarcastically, “Cheers.”

Thirsty by now, I took a big gulp, and he did
the same. We sat across from one another on the cool dirt
floor.

“Does your shoulder hurt badly?” I asked,
noticing him rubbing it and wincing.

“Just a little. The wine is helping the pain
go away,” he replied, and poured himself another glass.

I remained quiet until the wine kicked in,
and then I began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked with a frown.

“You,” I giggled.

“And what’s so funny about me?”

“You’re in your long johns.” I hadn’t
realized until then that he was still in his sleeping attire.

He looked at me and laughed aloud. “And what
about you?”

I gazed down at myself.

“You’re right,” I laughed, and then he
laughed even harder.

“Tell me, Amelia, tell me about your life
here at Sutton Hall. Who is Mammy to you, other than a slave? Is
that her son, the boy you call Jacob? How do you get along with
your stepmother, Eugenia?”

So many questions at once, my head was
spinning. Perhaps it wasn’t all from the inquisition, but from the
wine.

“Mammy is the woman who raised me, like a
real mother. And that is her son, Jacob Thomas.” I wasn’t yet
prepared to divulge who exactly Jacob was to this family at that
time. “She also has a daughter, Hattie.”

“That’s who we’re waiting for?”

“I know he is going to find us. He and Hattie
are fine,” I said more to myself than to him.

“Of course. They just need to realize we are
all down here.”

“As for my stepmother,” I said in a whisper,
“she and I don’t get on that well.”

“I never imagined my father would marry such
a homely woman,” he whispered back, and I chuckled.

“Was your mummy pretty?” I dared to ask. I
hadn’t thought how inappropriate that was to ask; it just came out
before I could take it back.

“She was stunning. And for that matter, so
was your mother.”

My eyes widened with surprise. I didn’t
expect Patrick to acknowledge my mummy. I believed he must have
been bitter for his own mother dying and his father having an
affair with the lowly chambermaid.

“You remember her?”

“Of course. Charlotte was the chambermaid.
She was a comfort to me when my mum passed away,” he revealed, then
took another sip of wine.

“You knew my mother,” I repeated to
myself.

“She was a sweet woman. She cared for me
deeply. After my mother was gone, she was the only person who made
me happy. It was her gentle nature, her sweet voice, her tender
touch that healed me. She was all I had, and if it weren’t for her,
I don’t know how I would have survived such a loss.

“And what’s amazing is that you are the exact
image of your mother.”

I sucked in my breath. Oh, Patrick revealed
so much in one moment that I would treasure forever.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Certainly.”

“Did our father love her - truly love
her?”

Patrick didn’t reply right away. His eyes
went half closed and relaxed, his rosy red lips cracked a cynical
smile.

When he finally answered me, he cleared his
throat and said, “He loved her the way any man would love one of
the most beautiful, voluptuous women who ever crossed his
path.”

I didn’t understand what he meant, and before
I could have him explain it, Eugenia appeared. Patrick scrambled to
his feet.

“I see you two are getting to know one
another. How nice,” she said with a strong hint of sarcasm.

“Would you like a drink? I can open another
bottle. You must be parched,” Patrick said calmly.

“Please.”

I realized that Eugenia was completely
dressed. It didn’t surprise me that even a tornado couldn’t take
Eugenia by surprise.

Patrick handed her a cup, and she drank the
wine fast and asked for a refill.

“And pour some for Warren. Abigail can get
her own.”

“I don’t mind pouring a cup for her,” he
replied.

“I said she can get some herself,” Eugenia
snapped back.

Patrick looked at me uneasily.

I nodded, indicating that he should to do
what Eugenia said.

“All right then. Well…I suppose there is not
much else to do but prepare for a long day ahead. I will have
Warren help me look through all the boxes to see what we can find
to sleep on.”

Eugenia agreed that it was a wise idea. And
while the men dug through boxes for the next hour or so, I took
Jacob from Mammy to allow her time to get a drink for herself and
Jacob. He had become quiet and remained sleepy. It didn’t help that
it was so dark and chilly down in the cellar.

I decided to recite some stories Daddy used
to tell me when I was a child. I told him the story of Jack and the
Beanstalk, then the story of King Arthur, and finally Robin Hood.
Warren and Patrick gathered items that we could use while listening
to my stories. I could tell they were paying attention, as they
often stopped and looked at me.

Finally, hours later, as we all prepared to
sleep for the night after nibbling on our small ration of
vegetables, I laid the little boy down next to Mammy and sang him
some of my favorite hymns. He fell asleep peacefully. Eugenia had
already passed out. She had drunk nearly an entire bottle of wine
by herself.

“Good night, Mammy. Hope we get out of here
by the light of the new day,” I whispered, “because I want to give
Hattie what for. She is surely taking her sweet time getting us out
of here.”

Mammy smiled at me and brushed away the tear
that had trickled down her smooth face.

“Good night, Miss Amelia.”

I sighed heavily and then wandered with my
candle in hand back to the wine room. I had set up that area for
Warren and Patrick while the women stayed together in the main
room. Warren sipped some wine, and Patrick prepared his little area
with scraps of old sheets that we’d found. Warren even found some
poker chips and playing cards.

I already had a slight headache from the
wine, and when Patrick offered me some more, I declined. “I’d just
as well get some sleep. Are you gentlemen going to play cards?”

“I don’t feel much like card playing,”
Patrick replied. “Sleep sounds good to me. It has been a long day.
Warren, blow out the candle. We’ll keep just this one lantern I
found going all night.”

Warren extinguished the candle. “Good night,
sleep well,” he said.

“And you as well, Mr. Stone.”

“Sweet dreams, Amelia,” Patrick said, and the
tenderness in his voice made my heart skip a beat.

“And you, Patrick Garrett.”

I continued to think of Patrick’s revelation
of how my mummy had cared for him at his time of greatest need, how
he loved her. And of course how he thought I was just as beautiful
as she was.

~ ~ ~

Hours later there was a colossal boom of
thunder. I tried to focus my eyes, but it was pitch black. The
lantern in the wine cellar had gone out. I could hear breathing,
and I felt Mammy’s legs next to me. My heart began to beat
frantically, and I was consumed with panic. I was finding it hard
to breathe.

The booms above us were continuous, and I
feared that another tornado would cause the entire mansion to
collapse on top of us, and we would never again see the light of
day.

I tried desperately to calm myself; I closed
my eyes and lay back down, shivering from the cold and trembling
from fear. I attempted to ignore the mansion shaking above us. I
was wrestling with my fear when I thought I heard Hattie calling
for me.