Saving Grace (The Grace Series Book 2) (26 page)

Just when Jessica thought the major couldn’t possibly endure anymore, the ragged choking ended and he sank back in the chair. The hand he was holding to his chest fell away. There was a lot of blood on his handkerchief, and more smeared by his nose and mouth. “Seth?” he whispered.

“Yes, Jonny, I’m right here,” the general said.

“She…she said yes.” By the expression on his face, by the way his chin quivered, it was obvious he was trying to hold onto his emotions.

The general took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and tenderly wiped the tears from the major’s face and then the smeared blood. Softly he said, “Jonny, that’s what you wanted. That’s a good thing.”

“Yes,” the major breathed. “Yes.”

The general rose and said to Jessica, “Please accept my apology, Miss Emerson.”

Thankfully Jessica didn’t have to reply. Trent interrupted before she could. “Jessie, what’s going on?” he said. “What did you say yes to?”

“He asked me to marry him,” she murmured.

“Are you crazy?” Trent whispered harshly.

“It’s right. It’s the right thing,” she told him.

Trent opened his mouth to protest, but Jessica shook her head to silence him.

The general was standing beside the rocking chair, frowning as he regarded the major. Awkward minutes passed and no one spoke. Jessica wondered how long it would be before the authoritative general told them all to leave.

It was the major who broke the silence. He opened his eyes and whispered, “Is Reverend Amos here?”

“Yes, he’s right here,” the general said.

“Are all the pap…papers in order?”

“Yes, Jonny, we took care of them earlier, remember? Your attorney is here, too.”

To Jessica, the major whispered, “Are you…you ready?”

He wanted them to be married this very minute! Even though he’d said today, somehow Jessica didn’t think it would be quite this soon. At the same time, she realized he must have planned this. Reverend Amos’s presence made it evident. But why would someone whose beliefs were so steeped in bigotry even consider having a colored minister preside? Seeing how expectantly he was gazing at her, she took a deep breath, found a light smile and nodded.

He returned her smile with a feeble one of his own, and then he looked at the general and said, “I want to stand up for this. Pl… please help me, Seth.”

The general hesitated. After a quick glance to Herlin, which Jessica took as a silent command, the general said, “Yes, Jonny, I will help you.”

With a trembling hand, the major removed the afghan from his legs. The stained handkerchief fell from his lap and he didn’t seem to notice. He leaned forward and the rockers rolled under his weight. The general tucked one strong arm around his back and asked. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“One… two… three…” the general prompted.

Clutching the general’s forearm, slowly the major labored to rise. Once he was standing, the general acted as if he thought the major would topple without his support. Slowly, warily, he withdrew his hold and stepped away.

The major raised his trembling limb to Jessica. As she put her hand in his, he said, “Thank you f… for doing this.” Then he looked at Reverend Amos and said, “We’re ready.”

The reverend ran through the vows quickly, asking the major and Jessica to repeat after him. And then it was time for the rings. The major took a deep breath, and cringing, took one shuffling step and then another to turn toward her. Remembering how they’d done the same thing at their first wedding, Jessica followed suit, shifting so she was facing him.

He then reached into his coat pocket and retrieved something small enough to be hidden in his fist. When he opened his hand, there were two rings on his palm. The one intended for her had a wide gold band with five emerald cut diamonds across the top. It was obviously an expensive piece, exquisitely designed and one of the loveliest rings she’d ever seen, more beautiful and expensive by far than the one he’d given her before, the one she’d thrown at him. The other was for him. There were no stones on it, but the design in the gold was the same as hers.

He took her hand, tenderly slipped the ring onto her finger, and haltingly repeated after the reverend, “With this ring… I thee… wed.”

Jessica said the same words as she slid his ring in place.

The major took her hand in his. He entwined their fingers, as he’d done so many times in the past, and he whispered to her, “Promise me you won’t let anyone take this one off…off me.”

Jessica swallowed hard.

“By the power vested in me by the State of Tennessee, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Reverend Amos said.

The major looked at Reverend Amos and murmured, “Thank you.”

The heartfelt sincerity in Reverend Amos’s reply was unmistakable. “You’re very welcome, Jonny.”

To Jessica the major said, “May I h…hold you?”

Jessica nodded and took a step closer to him. He raised his arms around her and bowed his head so his cheek was against her hair. She reciprocated tentatively, unsure whether she would hurt him if she touched him. She remembered where the bullet wounds were and purposely didn’t put her hands near those areas, but she could feel through the material of his coat the ridges of bandages wrapped securely around his torso, and the protrusion of his ribs. He had lost a lot of weight.

Jessica felt his breath in her hair. Whispering, breathing between each word, slowly he said, “My dream… my heart… my soul… my life…”

The emotions Jessica had been holding back for the better part of the afternoon threatened yet again. She pressed her cheek to his chest and felt the firm thumping of his heart. His arms around her were light, his trembling hands almost tickling, revealing how terribly, terribly weak he was. Still, in that moment, she felt warm and content, like this was where she was meant to be, like she had just come home.

But then, he let go and took an unsteady step backwards. Feeling the precarious sway of his body, with a faint cry of alarm, Jessica clutched at the lapels of his coat. His eyes were closed, his expression pained. As his knees buckled, Herlin caught him. Reverend Amos was there as well, and the general grabbed him from behind.

“We’ve got you, Jonny. We’ve got you,” the general said.

Jessica backed away, while under the general’s, Reverend Amos’s and Herlin’s careful guidance, the major was lowered into the rocking chair.

Jessica couldn’t stop staring at him. Even so, when he drew in a long, harsh breath and opened his eyes, she startled.

Briefly he glanced at the gentleman Jessica didn’t know and said, “Jess, this is Mr. Wainwright, my attorney. He will go over the will and oth…other documents wi…with you. If you have any ques… questions, Mr. Wain…Wainwright is fully a…aware of my wishes and…and should be able to explain ev…ev…everything t…to you. You c…c…can tru…trust him.”

Mr. Wainwright took a step forward. “I will take care of it just like we discussed, Major Grace.”

To Jessica, the major said, “This house w…was mine. It…it belongs to you now. Stay here a…as you wish. Th…the master bedroom ha…has been d…done f…for you. Bring Trent a…and your father t…to stay with you. A…a…as you choose.”

To Herlin, he said, “Please help t…to bring Jess…Jessica’s things.”

To the general, he said, “Promise me you w…will treat them all wi…with respect, and pro…promise t…to be kind to my wife.”

And then, again he addressed Jessica. “If Seth s…says an… anything to up…upset you, you make him l…leave. H…he has t…to lis…lis…listen t…to you here. Th…this is y…your pro…pro…property n…now.” Cringing, he wheezed in and out, and in and out. His next words were so broken and muffled Jessica had to learn close to understand him. “I…I have t…t…to rest f…for a…a…a while.”

“Perhaps it will be better if you and Mr. Wainwright go over the papers in the library,” the general suggested. “Martha will show you where it is.”

Jessica followed Martha and the attorney to the parlor entrance. Trent was right behind them. They were at the door when she heard the general tell Herlin to help him. She stopped and looked back. The major’s eyes were closed and his head was back. The general slipped an arm behind the major’s shoulders, while Herlin bent over and reached under his knees.

“One… two… three,” the general said, and they picked him up. They carried him to the bed and laid him on it.

“Jessica, come on,” Trent said.

“I’m coming,” she said, but she didn’t go.

The general lifted the major so Herlin could remove his coat. While the general adjusted the pillows at the headboard, Herlin took another pillow and slid it under the major’s bad knee. Reverend Amos brought the afghan and spread it over him.

“Jessica,” Trent said again.

Only then did Jessica follow Martha from the room. Throughout the manhandling, the major’s eyes remained closed. Not once did he stir.

In the library, Jessica took a seat on a sofa with Trent at her side. The attorney, Mr. Wainwright, had an inch-thick stack of papers beside him on the opposite settee. He explained every document, provided Jessica with time to read each one, and answered all of her questions. It took well over an hour to go through the meticulously prepared instruments. Several of them required her signature. Throughout the process Jessica was shocked repeatedly, as document by document, she learned of Julien Grace’s intentions. When it was over and the attorney handed her a set of copies, she just sat there unmoving, feeling numb.

“If you have no further questions, Mrs. Grace, I will be on my way,” Mr. Wainwright said. “You know how to reach me. Please don’t hesitate to contact me anytime.” Politely he said good day to them both and left.

For a long time neither Trent nor Jessica said a word.

Finally, Jessica turned to her brother. “Do you realize what he did?”

It took another second for Trent to find his voice. “Yes,” he murmured, “I thought we’d learn he had provisions in his will for you, but I never expected this.”

The documents listed all of Julien Grace’s investments and all of his properties, which were extensive. If she were to stop the investment returns and sell all the real estate so there was no longer rental income, she would still have enough funds to live on comfortably for the rest of her life. The documents said the money would be handled by Mr. Wainwright’s law firm, and they detailed exactly how Jessica needed to request sums, as well as the amounts the law firm would retain for their services.

Terms had been set for servants as well, including the right to offer employment to any of the people who had worked at Bent Oak Manor. These included salary figures complete with inflation considerations for the length of their employment and retirement. The figures quoted astounded her. She never knew servants could be paid so generously. It reminded her of the list she’d found in the study at Bent Oak Manor and how appalled she’d been by the numbers written next to the names. She wondered now whether that paper was just another part of the deception.

Additional provisions had been made for both her father and her brother, regardless of whether they stayed here with her or remained in their existing home. Servants would be available to them, but managed by either Jessica or the law firm, as she preferred. The documents stated that if the servants were mistreated in any way, they would be given money, property and other means for making a living.

In his will, the major left money and sentimental possessions to his mother, Elise, and three younger brothers, Etienne, Adrien and Leon. He left money and specific items to others he cared for. Seth McLean was one of them, but there were also several names Jessica didn’t recognize. Herlin, Ditter, their wives and children were all named, and he’d created trust funds for each of the children from Bent Oak Manor for their educations.

He left his Smith and Wesson revolvers to Trent. Upon hearing this, Trent’s whole body had stiffened. The sheer bewilderment on his face made Jessica smile.

Right after that Mr. Wainwright read, “For all his wise counsel when I so badly needed it, I leave my Gutenberg Bible to the only man I know who will be able to read and appreciate it, my very good friend, the Reverend Sebastian Nash.”

Another document, read later, provided money in trust for a new college in Washington. Sebastian Nash was the named trustee.

The major’s entire residual estate was to become Jessica’s.

Not long after the attorney left, Martha met them in the library suggesting a tour. Trent went along as they walked through the house and the surrounding grounds. Martha explained that the major purchased the land and began construction shortly after Jessica moved to Bent Oak Manor.

Jessica couldn’t have been more thrilled. Not only did this wonderful place take into account every possible comfort a person could wish for, the rear wing contained roomy, private apartments large enough for servants and their families. Herlin, Martha and Willy were using one of them. Ditter, Ruth, Jacob and Chelsea were staying in another. In addition to the rear wing, separate homes, all made of stone and of decent size, were built within easy walking distance of the main house. These homes were fully furnished and well appointed. No expense had been spared.

For the final part of the tour Martha took them to the second floor which contained six bedrooms. The general had his belongings in one of these rooms. Three other rooms were fully decorated, but according to Martha had never been used. The second to the last room Martha showed her was the major’s bedroom. It was large and decorated in hunter green and gold. There was no bed in it. The design of the wood dressing table, nightstand and wardrobe matched the bed in the parlor.

“And this is the master bedroom,” Martha said as she opened the door to the last room they were to see. “Jonny had it decorated with you in mind.”

Jessica stepped inside and gasped in awe. It was clearly the largest bedroom in the house. It was done in a deep, dark blue, accented by gold and white. Thick carpet patterned in flowers covered the floor. Curtains in a similar pattern matched the bedcovers and pillows. The furnishings were French in design, with intricate floral carvings in the rich cherry wood. The dresser, night table and vanity tops were marble. While Jessica stood there taking it all in, she thought she would never have been able to put together something so wonderful. The only things lacking were paintings and other incidental decorations.

“Jonny thought you would want to finish the final details, make the room your own,” Martha explained.

Jessica was so touched by his thoughtfulness she had to bite her lip. He’d reserved the largest bedroom in the house not for himself, but for her. Beyond that, above everything, what affected her the most was that he remembered something she told him long ago—her favorite color, navy blue.

Martha left Jessica and Trent alone in the room, and Jessica meandered through it, touching the bed clothes, the table tops, the curtains. She opened the wardrobe and dresser drawers and found the belongings she’d left behind at Bent Oak Manor. It wouldn’t be necessary to return to the Emerson farm this night to get any of her things. There was enough there to last her for weeks.

As she looked through the clothes, combs, soaps, and a myriad of new toiletry items, her thoughts drifted back to the meeting with the attorney, and something else he said. This property, Grace Manor, had been deeded to her. It belonged to her just as the major said. There was a separate document, the only document in the whole lot of them that was more in the form of a letter than a legal paper. In it the major requested he be allowed to remain in this house until his death. Jessica had been confused by it, and she’d asked the attorney if it meant legally the major had the right to stay.

“Mrs. Grace,” Mr. Wainwright had replied, “the major made himself very clear when we discussed this issue. He would like to stay here, but if you do not want him here, it is your choice. He was adamant a life estate for him not be created so you would have the option to ask him to leave if you want him to.”

After the attorney explained this, Jessica had asked whether General McLean was aware of the major’s wishes. The attorney told her that the general did know. He apparently had argued relentlessly with the major about it, but to no avail. Mr. Wainwright said, “Moving the major in his condition would not be in his best interest. The general is very concerned.”

* * *

Jessica and Trent were still in her new bedroom when Herlin lightly tapped on the open door. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss Jessica, but Ruth will have dinner ready in a few minutes and the general wants to know whether you will join him?”

Trent shrugged noncommittally, so Jessica told Herlin they would stay. They followed him down the stairway and into the dining room, where he said they should make themselves comfortable. Like all the others, this room was wonderfully appointed, done in a burnished rust color. The table could seat as many as two dozen and it was stained a dark oak.

“Will the major be joining us?” Jessica asked Herlin.

Herlin shook his head, murmured a hasty, “Excuse me,” and left them.

Jessica took the seat next to the head of the table and Trent sat across from her. The general didn’t come in until after Ruth brought all the serving dishes to the table. He raised one white eyebrow and proceeded to take the empty head chair.

While they ate, the general asked her, “Have you made a decision about staying here?”

Jessica was concerned about her father, but she also did want to remain in this house. She was still floating in the current, trying to get used to the idea that all of this belonged to her. “I would like to stay,” she said. “I will ask Herlin to take me back to my father’s home in the morning to gather my things.”

The general turned to Trent. “And you, Mr. Emerson? What plans do you have?”

“I will be returning home. There is too much work to be done there for me to leave at this time. But perhaps, if it’s okay with Jessica, I would like to spend some time with her here during the winter.”

“You know you’re welcome anytime,” Jessica told her brother.

“And your father, what do you think he will say about all of this? What do you think he will want to do?” the general asked.

“Knowing our father, I expect he won’t want to come here. He will want to stay on at our farm,” Trent said.

That was the last of the general’s inquiries.

“General,” Trent broke the awkward silence that followed. “I will need to return to our home this evening to let our father know Jessica will be staying here. I don’t want him to worry. Would it be possible to run the carriage?”

“I’ll see to it after we’re finished here,” the general said.

Once again they lapsed into silence. Jessica didn’t look at him, but she could feel the general staring at her. At least, as the major made him promise, even though he was curt, he wasn’t being rude.

After the meal, the general excused himself to see about the carriage. Jessica and Trent were in the foyer, saying goodbye when he returned.

“Congratulations, Jessie,” Trent teased. “Pop will be tickled. You’ve become a rich woman after all.”

Jessica laughed lightly. “Please tell Papa I shall be along in the morning.”

Then he was gone, leaving her alone with the general. As she turned around, and saw the way the evil man was glaring at her, she jumped nervously.

“Excuse me,” he snapped, and he headed toward the parlor.

“General?” Jessica stammered. “Is… is the major… can I see… I… I would like to thank him.”

The general opened the parlor door and, with an elaborate roll of his arm, gestured for her to enter.

Suddenly, Jessica’s heart was in her throat. Nerves rattled through her entire body. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the room. She expected to find the major in his bed, but he was again seated in the rocking chair. An afghan was draped over his lap, but it wasn’t the same one from earlier in the day. This time, his eyes were open and he was gazing out the window at the distant, pink sky. There was a tray on the end table next to his rocking chair. On it was a bowl, a coffee cup and an empty water glass.

As she moved further into the room, he rolled his head against the high back of chair, smiled and breathed, “Jess.”

From the wing chair opposite him, Jessica could see that very little, if any of the thick soup in his bowl had been eaten, but the coffee cup, like the water glass, was empty. Her eyes were drawn to his hand, his long fingers dangling over the arm of the chair and the ring she placed on him earlier.

A long indrawn breath brought her attention back to his face. He was just sitting there, regarding her from under half-closed eyelids.

“I don’t quite know what to say,” she murmured. “Thank you just doesn’t seem to be enough.”

“Would you… will you play for me?” he whispered.

Jessica was itching to try out the fine instrument, so acquiescing to this request was no problem. As she adjusted the bench she wondered whether his love of music had been feigned. “Is there anything specific you’d like to hear?” she asked.

He rolled his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. She watched him for a minute before turning her attention to the keys. She was about to begin when Ruth tapped at the door and peered in.

“I’ve come for the tray, Jonny. Are you finished?” Ruth asked.

“Yes,” he said.

Jessica noticed Ruth’s frown when she saw the full bowl on the tray, but she said nothing as she picked it up.

The major took a breath. “Thank you. It… it was ver… very good.”

“You’re welcome.” Ruth smiled and patted his shoulder before casually departing.

The exchange, so different from any communication Jessica witnessed between them in the past, caused her throat to tighten. Swallowing, she focused on the black and white keys.

She hadn’t been playing long when she looked up to see the general standing in the doorway. His distinctive perusal caused her to trip over several notes. Thankfully, he moved on, taking a seat in the wingchair opposite the major. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him take the stained, crumpled handkerchief from the major’s fist and replace it with a clean one.