'I'm not telling you this to make you cry.' Sophronia took her thumb to one of Kit's tears.
Kit thought of the arguments about states' rights she'd made over the years to anyone who said the war had been fought over slavery. Now she understood why those arguments had been so important to her. They'd kept her from confronting a truth she hadn't been able to face. 'It's so evil. So wicked.'
Sophronia rose and moved away. 'I'm doing my best to put it in the past. Right now, it's you I'm worried about.'
Kit didn't want to talk about herself. She returned to the washstand, acting as if the world were just the same as it had been the day before. 'You don't have to worry about me.'
'I saw the expression on his face when he carried you into this house. It doesn't take much imagination to know you had a hard time of it. But listen to me, Kit. You can't keep all that ugliness stopped up inside you. You have to let it out before it changes you.'
Kit tried to think of what she could say, especially after what Sophronia had revealed about herself. But how could she speak of something she didn't understand?
'No matter how terrible it was,' Sophronia said, 'you can talk to me about it, I understand, honey. You can tell me.'
'No, you don't understand.'
'I do. I know what it's like. I know how-'
'You don't.' Kit turned. 'This wasn't ugly like what happened to you,' she said softly. 'It wasn't ugly or awful or anything like that.'
'You mean that he didn't…'
Kit swallowed and nodded. 'He did.'
Sophronia's face turned ashen. 'I-I guess I shouldn't have…' She ran out of words. 'I need to get back to the kitchen. Patsy wasn't feelin' good yesterday.' Her skirts made a soft whooshing sound as she left the room.
Kit stared after her, feeling sick and guilty. Finally she forced herself to finish dressing. She reached into her wardrobe and pulled out the first thing her fingers touched, a candy-striped dimity. She'd lost her silver comb, so she tied her curls back with a pumpkin-colored ribbon she found in her drawer. It clashed with her dress, but she didn't notice.
just as she reached the foyer, the front door opened and Cain walked in with Miss Dolly. Kit was immediately swept into a peppermint-scented embrace.
'Oh, my sweet, sweet precious! This is the happiest day of my life, 'deed it is. To think that you and the major cherish tender feelin's for each other, and I didn't suspect a thing.'
This was the first time she'd heard Miss Dolly voluntarily refer to Baron as 'the major.' She studied her more closely, which gave her an excuse to avoid looking at Cain.
'I've already chastised the major for keeping me in the dark, and I should chastise you, too, but I'm too consumed by happiness.' The older woman clasped her hands to her ruffled bodice. 'Just look at her, Major, in her pretty frock with a ribbon in her hair. Although you might want to find another color, Katharine Louise. That little pink satin you have, if it's not too badly crushed. Now I must go talk to Patsy about a cake.' With a quick peck at Kit's cheek, she headed for the kitchen. When the clatter of her tiny heels on the wooden floor had receded, Kit was finally forced to look at her husband.
She might have been staring at a stranger. His face was empty of expression, his eyes distant. The passion they'd shared last night might have been something she'd imagined.
She searched for some trace of tenderness, some acknowledgment of the importance of what had passed between them. When she didn't find it, a chill went through her. She should have known this was how it would be with him. She'd been foolish to expect anything else. Still, she felt betrayed.
'Why is Miss Dolly calling you 'Major'?' She asked this question instead of the others she couldn't give voice to. 'What did you say to her?'
He tossed his hat onto the hallway table. 'I told her we were married. Then I pointed out that if she went on believing I was General Lee, she'd have to reconcile herself to the fact that you were living with a bigamist, since the general has been married for years.'
'How did she react?'
'She accepted it, especially after I reminded her that my own military record was nothing to be ashamed of.'
'Your military record? How could you frighten her like that?' Finally she had a target on which to pin at least a small portion of her pain. 'If you bullied her-'
'She wasn't frightened. She was quite pleased to hear how valiantly I was serving under General Beauregard.'
'Beauregard fought for the Confederacy.'
'Compromise, Kit. Maybe someday you'll learn the value of it.' He headed for the stairs and then stopped. 'I'm leaving for Charleston in an hour. Magnus will be here if you need anything.'
'Charleston? You're leaving today?'
His eyes mocked her. 'Were you expecting a honeymoon?'
'No, of course not. But don't you think it's going to look a little strange if you leave so soon after our-our wedding?'
'Since when have you cared what people think?'
'
She pushed past him and stalked out the front door. She half expected him to come after her, half hoped he would. She wanted a fight, a raging argument on which to blame her unhappiness. But the door remained shut.
She went to the live oak behind the house and leaned against one of the great drooping branches. How was she to survive being his wife?
For the next few days, she stayed away from the house as much as she could. At first light, she donned her britches and rode Temptation from one corner of the plantation to the next, everywhere but the spinning mill. She talked to the women about their gardens, the men about the cotton crop, and walked between the long rows of plants until the afternoon sun drove her into the refuge of the woods or to the banks of the pond.
But the pond was no longer a sanctuary. He'd spoiled that, too. As she sat beneath the willows, she thought about how he'd managed to take everything from her: home, money, and finally her body. Except she'd given that freely.
Sometimes the memory filled her with rage. Other times she'd feel edgy and restless. When that happened, she'd jump on Temptation and ride him until she was exhausted.
One day slid into another. Kit had never been a coward, but she couldn't find the courage to face her callers, so she left them to Miss Dolly. Although she didn't think the Cogdells would ever reveal the details of that awful wedding, the rest was bad enough. She'd married the enemy in a hurry-up affair that would leave them all counting on their fingers for months to come. Just as embarrassing was the fact that her husband had abandoned her the morning after their marriage, and she had no idea when he'd return.
Only once did she agree to receive company, and that was early Saturday afternoon, when Lucy announced that Mr. Parsell had come to call. Brandon knew how she felt about Cain, so he must realize that she'd been forced into the marriage. Maybe he'd thought of a way to help her.
She quickly changed from her britches into the dress she'd worn the day before and hurried downstairs. He rose from the settee to greet her.
'Mrs. Cain.' He bowed formally. 'I came to extend my felicitations as well as the best wishes of my mother and my sisters. I'm certain that you and Major Cain will be very happy.'
Kit felt a hysterical bubble of laughter rising inside her. How like him it was to behave as if there'd never been anything between them but the most distant of friendships.
'Thank you, Mr. Parsell,' she replied, somehow managing to match his tone. Propelled by her pride, she flawlessly played the role for which the Templeton Academy had trained her. For the next twenty minutes, she spoke of the condition of the roses that grew near the front of the house, the health of the president of the Planters and Citizens Bank, and the possibility of purchasing a new carpet for the church.
He responded to each topic and never once attempted to refer to any of the events that had transpired
