Sophronia made up her mind just before Christmas. James Spence met her beside the road that led to Rutherford and showed her a deed to a house in Charleston that had her name on it.
'It's a pretty pink stucco, Miz Sophronia, with a fig tree in the front and a trellis all covered with wisteria in the back.'
She took the deed, studied it carefully, and said she'd go with him.
As she gazed out the kitchen window at the wet, dreary December day that lay over the dormant fields of Risen Glory, she reminded herself that she was twenty-four years old. Her life had been standing still long enough. James Spence could give her everything she'd wanted for so long. He treated her politely, and he was handsome for a white man. He'd take good care of her, and in return, she'd take care of him. It wouldn't be all that much different from what she was doing now… except that she'd have to lie with him.
She shivered, then asked herself what difference it made. It wasn't as if she were a virgin. The house in Charleston would be hers-that was what was important-and she'd finally be safe. Besides, it was time to get away. Between Magnus, Kit, and the major, she'd go crazy if she had to stay at Risen Glory much longer.
Magnus watched her with those soft brown eyes of his. She hated the pity she saw in them, yet sometimes she found herself daydreaming about that Sunday afternoon when he'd kissed her in the orchard. She wanted to forget that kiss, but she couldn't. He hadn't tried to touch her again, not even the night Kit and the major had gotten married and she'd slept at his house. Why wouldn't he go away and leave her in peace?
She wished they'd all go away, even Kit. Ever since she'd gone back to the major's bed, there was something frantic about her. She rushed from one thing to another, never giving herself time to think. In the morning when Sophronia went to the henhouse to gather eggs, she could see Kit in the distance, riding Temptation as if there weren't any tomorrow, taking him over jumps that were too high, pushing them both to the limit. Even if was cold or rainy, she rode. It was almost as if she was afraid the land might have disappeared during the night while she and the major were carrying on in that big bedroom upstairs.
During the daytime, the air between them shimmered with tension. Sophronia hadn't heard Kit speak a civil word to him in weeks, and when the major talked to her, his voice sounded like it was frozen inside a block of ice. Still, at least he seemed to be trying. He'd given in on the matter of putting a road to the mill through those acres of scrub to the east, when everybody but Kit could see the land was useless and the road would save miles of traveling time.
This morning Sophronia had been afraid they'd come to blows. The major had been warning Kit for weeks to stop riding Temptation so recklessly. He'd finally put his foot down and told her she couldn't ride Temptation at all. Kit had called him names and threatened a few things no woman should even know about, much less mention. He'd stood there like a statue, not saying a word, just watching her with that stone-cold expression that sent shivers down Sophronia's spine.
But no matter how bad things were between them during the day, when nightfall came, the door of that big front bedroom would slam shut and not open again until morning.
Through the window, Sophronia saw Kit, dressed in those shameful britches, coming back from a walk. Sophronia's stomach coiled in dread. She couldn't put it off any longer. Her satchel was packed, and Mr. Spence would be waiting for her at the end of the drive in less than an hour.
She'd told no one of her plans, although she wondered if Magnus suspected something. He'd looked at her strangely when he'd come to the kitchen for breakfast that morning. Sometimes she had the feeling he could read her mind.
She told herself she was glad he'd gone into Rutherford for the day so he wouldn't be here when she left. But some part of her wanted one last glimpse of that kind, handsome face.
She left her apron on the peg next to the sink where she'd been hanging aprons since she was a child. Then she walked through the house for the last time.
A chilly gust of air accompanied Kit as she came in through the front door. 'That wind has some bite to it. I'm going to make chowder for dinner tonight.'
Sophronia forgot that such things were no longer her responsibility. 'It's nearly five o'clock,' she scolded. 'If you wanted chowder, you should have told me earlier. Patsy already made a nice okra pilau.'
Kit jerked off her woolen jacket and shoved it irritably onto the newel-post. 'I'm sure she won't mind if I add chowder to the menu.' She began to stomp up the stairs.
'People in this house would appreciate it if you smiled once in a while.'
Kit paused and looked down at Sophronia. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'It means that you've been grouchy for months now, and it's getting contagious. You've even got me snapping at Patsy.'
It wasn't the first time Sophronia had reprimanded Kit for her behavior, but today Kit couldn't muster the energy to come to her own defense. She'd been feeling edgy and listless, not sick exactly, but not entirely well, either. She sighed wearily. 'If Patsy doesn't want chowder on the menu tonight, I'll make it tomorrow.'
'You'll have to tell her yourself.'
'Why's that?'
'Because I won't be here.'
'Oh? Where are you going?'
Sophronia faltered. Kit had asked the question so innocently. 'Let's go into the sittin' room for a few minutes so we can talk.'
Kit looked at her curiously, then followed her down the hallway. Once inside, she sat on the settee. 'Is something wrong?'
Sophronia remained standing. 'I-I'm going away to Charleston.'
'You should have told me earlier. I have some shopping to do, too. I could have gone with you.'
'No, it's not a shopping trip.' Sophronia clasped her hands in front of her butternut wool skirt. 'I-I'm goin' for good. I won't be coming back to Risen Glory.'
Kit stared at her uncomprehendingly. 'Not coming back? Of course you're coming back. You live here.'
'James Spence bought me a house.'
Kit's forehead knitted. 'Why would he do that? Are you going to be his housekeeper? Sophronia, how could you even think of leaving here?'
Sophronia shook her head. 'I'm not goin' to be his housekeeper I'm goin' to be his mistress.'
Kit gripped the arm of the settee. 'I don't believe you. You'd never do anything so horrible.'
Sophronia's chin shot up. 'Don't you dare judge me!'
'But this is wrong! What you're talking about is wicked, plain and simple. How could you even consider such a thing?'
'I'm doin' what I have to,' Sophronia said stubbornly.
'You don't have to do this!'
'That's easy for you to say. But did you ever think I might want some of the same things you want-a house, pretty clothes, being able to wake up in the morning knowing nobody can hurt me?'
'But nobody can hurt you here. The war's been over for three years. Nobody's bothered you.'
'That's just because everybody assumed I was sharing your husband's bed.' At Kit's sharp look, she added, 'I wasn't. Still, nobody except Magnus knew that.' The sculptured lines of her face set into bitter planes. 'Now that you're married, everything's different. It's just a matter of time before somebody decides I'm free for the picking. That's the way it is for any black woman doesn't have a white man lookin' out for her. I can't go through the rest of my life like that.'
'But what about Magnus?' Kit argued. 'He's a good man. Anybody with eyes can see that he loves you. And no matter how much you pretend otherwise, I know you have tender feelings for him. How can you do this to him?'
Sophronia's mouth formed a straight, stubborn line. 'I have to look out for myself.'
Kit jumped up from the settee. 'I don't see what's so wonderful about having a white man watching out for you. When you were a slave, my father was supposed to be watching out for you, and look what happened. Maybe Mr. Spence won't be able to protect you any more than my father could. Maybe he'll look the other way the same as my father. Did you ever think about that, Sophronia? Did you?'
'Your father didn't
