A Hope Beyond (29 page)

“Granny would have said that evil spirits have invaded Oakbridge.”

“Granny?”

“She was an old slave whom I dearly loved and used to confide in. She’s dead now—in fact, probably turning over in her grave at the way the family has fallen apart.”

Lucy leaned closer. “You mustn’t fret so, Carolina. Things will work themselves out. At least your mother seems comforted by Virginia’s presence, and Hampton is offering your father a great deal of help. Maybe we need only keep an eye on things and see how they come about.”

“But I don’t want to keep my eye on things.” Carolina got to her feet and began to pace. “I don’t want to remain here. I’m miserable and tormented, and I want to go as far away as possible.” She stopped, arms akimbo. “Yet I know I mustn’t leave you and Father.”

“Don’t be held here by my presence,” Lucy admonished. “York is already making plans for my return to Washington. He’s quite miserable being so far removed. It isn’t convenient for him to come home as often as he’d like, so I’ve no doubt we’ll be moving soon.”

“Then I suppose Father is my only concern.”

“Father Adams wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your peace of mind on his account. But tell me this, where would you go?”

Carolina shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I have a suggestion, although it might seem completely out of order.”

“Tell me.”

Lucy put down her sewing. “I have a friend . . . well, actually, he was married to a dear friend of mine. He’s now a widower and father to a small daughter. He lives in Baltimore, and I have heard through mutual friends that he has immediate need for a nanny.”

“A nanny?”

“I know that a woman of your standing and means need not consider such a position, however . . .”

“Social standing isn’t of concern to me,” Carolina interjected. “How old is the child?”

Lucy smiled. “Victoria is barely nine months old. She’s been cared for by a string of maids and nurses, but no one has offered the child any permanency or stability.”

“Why is that?”

“Her father is a difficult man to work for,” Lucy said flatly. “Blake St. John is a very troubled man, but he is a good and honest man as well.” “Blake St. John,” Carolina tried the name. “And he lives in Baltimore?”

“Yes. He lives there quite well, in fact.”

“How did your friend—his wife—die?” Carolina asked, suddenly wanting to know everything.

Lucy grew very solemn. “No one knows for sure. Blake would never say much about the matter. All I know is that Suzanna died only days after Victoria’s birth.”

“How tragic.”

“Yes, it was.” Lucy looked to where Amy slept contentedly. “I cannot bear to imagine the anguish of being parted from a child.”

“It’s hard to lose someone you love,” Carolina murmured, her mind dwelling on the death of her own sisters. “Were there other children in the home?”

“They had a son,” Lucy replied and shook her head. “But he drowned. His death nearly caused Suzanna to lose the baby, but she took to her bed and safely gave birth to Victoria eight months later.”

Carolina considered the matter for several moments. To move from Oakbridge was one thing, but to take on the responsibility for an infant was entirely different. How long could she offer her services? And would her father ever approve of such an idea?

“It is something to think about,” Carolina finally said. “Do you think your friend would be open to the idea of my employment?”

“I can’t think of any reason why he would not. Blake is a fair man, and while I can’t say that we are very close, he would no doubt consider my reference to be valid.”

Carolina nodded. “It would get me away from here, without removing me too far. The railroad would make it easy to return if there should be any real trouble or need.” She pondered these things for a few moments before nodding. “I’ll give it some prayerful consideration.”

32
Amy’s Disappearance

“I can’t find my baby!”

Carolina, used to hearing the cries of her mother’s anguished mind, paid little attention until she realized it was Lucy and not Margaret who now made the declaration.

Bursting into the second-floor sitting room, Lucy’s pale face gave evidence to her despair. “Amy is gone!”

Joseph and Carolina looked up immediately, but Virginia went on with her embroidery while Hampton read a periodical.

“Gone?” Carolina came to Lucy’s side.

“Yes! I awoke from my nap and went to feed her, and she wasn’t there. Her cradle is empty.”

“Did you ask Miriam?” questioned Joseph. “Perhaps the child woke up early, and Miriam thought to let you rest.”

Carolina knew the slave woman would never remove the infant without permission but said nothing to counter her father’s suggestion.

“I asked everyone. No one has seen her.”

“We will help you look,” Carolina said, taking Lucy in hand. “She must be nearby.”

Joseph turned to Virginia and Hampton and, without questioning their willingness, issued them orders. “Hampton, you go to the slave quarters. Virginia, take the first floor.”

Carolina saw Virginia open her mouth as if to protest, then shut it rather hastily at the look of insistence on their father’s face.

“Come along, Lucy,” he said, taking hold of her arm. “We will search out this floor while Carolina takes the third floor and the attic.” He looked at Carolina as if seeking her approval, and she quickly nodded.

Darting down the hall in an unladylike fashion, Carolina couldn’t imagine what had become of Amy. She had just reached the stairs when a miserable thought occurred to her. What if her mother had taken her?

Seeing her father and Lucy head down the opposite wing, Carolina decided to check it out for herself. She made her way to her mother’s room and knocked very lightly before pushing back the door.

“Mother?” The room was empty.

Panic flooded her heart and soul. Margaret was not capable of caring for herself, much less an infant. Carolina tried to imagine where her mother might have gone. The nursery was the logical place, but that was just across the hall, and the open door there revealed its emptiness.

Hiking her skirt, Carolina bounded upstairs and made her way down the third-floor hall. There were several rooms here, used primarily for the house servants, while a huge portion of the floor was devoted to the ballroom.

Carolina made her way through each room, softly calling to her mother. There was no response. She strained her ears to hear even the tiniest cry or spoken word, but there was nothing.

A quick appraisal of the dark and empty ballroom revealed only chilled silence. The room had been shut up since Carolina’s coming-out party almost two years ago. It wasn’t hard to remember the musty room filled with dazzling guests and musicians. For a moment, Carolina could nearly hear the music and see the dancers, and then the images disappeared, replaced by the sound of a baby crying.

It was coming from the attic.

Torn between rushing ahead on her own and returning for her father, Carolina ran to the top of the stairs and called down.

“Papa! Papa, come quickly!”

“Carolina?” His voice sounded muffled and unsure.

“Yes, come to the attic.”

She hurried away without waiting for his reply and made her way up the narrow attic stairs.

“Mother?” she called softly. “Mother, are you here?”

She could hear the baby’s gurgling cries, but nothing else. Reaching the top step, Carolina glanced around the darkened room. The far window had been opened to allow the sunlight to filter in, and because of the winter wind being allowed in as well, the room was now freezing.

Picking her way through the shadowy room, Carolina called again. “Mother?”

“I’m rocking Maryland,” came the reply.

Carolina swallowed hard and eased around a dressmaker’s dummy to where she finally saw her mother seated on the floor beside the cradle that had once belonged to Maryland.

“She’s fretful and I fear a little colicky,” Margaret said. Her mother’s nightgown billowed out around her, while her shawl had fallen away. Carolina picked this up and wrapped it around her mother’s shoulders while Margaret continued trying to soothe Amy.

“You mustn’t wear yourself out, Mother.”

“Carolina!” her father called.

“We’re up here, Father. I’m with Mother and . . . Maryland.”

Margaret smiled up at her. “She’s been up all night.”

“Why don’t you let me rock her while you get some rest?” Carolina said, kneeling beside her mother. “Papa can help you to bed, and I will care for Mary while you sleep.”

Margaret stifled a yawn and nodded. “That would be very generous of you.”

Joseph appeared at the door and stared in disbelief at the scene before him. Carolina, sensing her father’s despair, quickly picked up the conversation.

“Father, Mother is very tired, and I’ve agreed to watch Mary while she rests. Would you help her to bed?”

Joseph instantly became aware of the ruse. “Of course,” he said, reaching out to gently help his wife to her feet. “You have been working too hard again, Mrs. Adams. That is why we have servants, you know. You mustn’t take everything on by yourself.”

Margaret nodded, her mind peacefully in another world. As Joseph led her away, Carolina picked up Amy and held her close against the chill of the room. Following behind, she wondered if Lucy would ever forgive Margaret for this episode. She remembered the look of complete horror in Lucy’s eyes and knew she would never again rest easy under the same roof with Margaret Adams.

She reached the third floor and found Lucy waiting anxiously for her child. Joseph was already leading Margaret down the back stairs, all the while talking softly to her about inconsequential matters.

“My baby!” Lucy sobbed, taking Amy in her arms. “She’s freezing. Oh, Carolina, what if she grows ill?” She cradled the child to her breast and cried.

“Come, Lucy. Let’s get her downstairs and warm her before the fire.”

“How could she do this to me?” Lucy asked, seeking Carolina’s face for an answer. “How could your mother do this?”

“Don’t hold it against her, Lucy. Remember our earlier conversation about your friend. Losing a child can never be easy. Your own heartbreak just now is proof of how it strains the senses. I know Mother never meant to harm Amy. She truly thought Amy was Maryland.”

“I don’t care. I can’t remain here to watch and worry as to whether your mother will snatch my daughter away again. Oh, what if she’d dropped her or completely lost her senses and tried to hurt her?”

Carolina helped steady Lucy as they walked. “I don’t think Mother is capable of hurting anyone. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll send a rider for York, and you can make your decision about leaving.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Please send for my husband.”

It was decided that Lucy and Amy would depart immediately for Philadelphia. Living apart from her husband would be sheer misery, but there was still too much chaos in Washington for her to return there. Lucy felt certain that life with her father would afford her greater peace of mind where Amy’s safety was concerned.

York, reluctant to see his young wife and daughter slip away, agreed to the move, but not with the enthusiasm that Lucy seemed to hope for. He sympathized with his wife, but felt the conflict with his position as a presidential aide.

Their last morning together caused Carolina a great deal of sorrow. Lucy had become a trusted confidante, and her presence at Oakbridge made Carolina’s life bearable.

“I shall miss you ever so much, Lucy,” Carolina told her honestly. She tried to maintain a cheerful disposition, but her misery was quite apparent.

“And I shall miss you, but it won’t be forever.”

Carolina shook her head. “I can’t imagine what this house will be like with you and Amy gone.”

Lucy held open her arms and Carolina embraced her. “You will write, won’t you?” Lucy asked, giving Carolina a gentle squeeze.

“Of course I will.” Carolina felt tears come to her eyes but refused to give in to her sorrow. “I know I’m being selfish, but I can’t help wishing you would stay.”

“I know.”

Just then Joseph entered the room and with a regretful expression came to where the two women stood.

“The carriage is ready and York says you must come along.”

“Thank you, Father Adams,” Lucy said and smiled. “It won’t be forever, as I just told Carolina. I hope you understand. I have to protect Amy.”

Joseph nodded. “I do indeed understand.”

It suddenly came to Carolina that this might well be her last opportunity to introduce the idea of Blake St. John’s need for a nanny. With Lucy’s assistance and knowledge of the St. John family, Carolina had little doubt her father would consider the situation in a more positive light. And given the fact that everything dear to Carolina was slipping rapidly away from Oakbridge, moving to Baltimore held more appeal than ever before.

“Papa,” she said, putting her hand on Joseph’s sleeve, “before Lucy goes, I want her to tell you about a gentleman in Baltimore.”

Lucy eyed her with an expression of puzzled contemplation for a moment, then she suddenly seemed to realize what Carolina’s request was all about.