views on the intelligence of Negroes. Robbie hadnât given her a chance.
Then the truth struck her with the force of a blow to the head. The first time she discussed slavery with Robbie was after her slaves had run away, after Sissy had betrayed her. Sheâd been so angry. So hurt. Devastated. Surely Robbie realized.
But because theyâd never talked about it before, perhaps he had not.
Next she recalled the hatred she had spewed toward the abolitionist cause. Hatred she used to protect herself from facing the truth at the time. Her slaves were gone. Her father deadâand it was all Constanceâs fault, hers and Sissyâs.
She must speak to Robbie, and soon. She would still never forgive him for deserting her. He had broken her heart and never even attempted to explain. But at least she understood his reasoning now. They had misjudged one another, and the time had arrived to straighten matters.
CHAPTER 9
Patience dashed all the way home from the postal office. The Cavendish reputation could hardly suffer damage at this point from such a minor offense. She clamored up the front steps and crashed through the door, panting and out of breath. âItâs come!â She held up the letter in triumph.
Felicity sprang from the couch in the parlor and snatched it from her hand. Her weeks of crying turned to squeals of glee. Tearing it open she said, âThank goodness, for I could not wait another day.â
She pulled out the paper with trembling hands. âWhat is this?â Felicity unfolded it and turned it front and back. âSheâs barely written a word.â
Patience grabbed it from Felicity. âShe must have said something.â
âRead it,â the normally reticent Felicity demanded as Mother and Grammy made their way to the small entry room.
Mother gripped tight to the woodwork. âAye, dear, read it aloud.â
Patience glanced over the words and released a sigh. â
Iâve arrived safely. Terribly busy. More to come. Love and miss you all, Constance.â
âOh! The nerve,â Felicity huffed, clenching her fists. âI spent two weeks crying, and she says,
âIâve arrived safely. Terribly busy.â
We deserve better than that. Why, I never!â With that she stormed up to her room. Felicity always sought solitude when overwhelmed.
âCanât believe I got me old bones up out tâ rocker for nowt.â Grammy headed to the kitchen.
âAt least sheâs safe,â Mother whispered. âBut why so terse? Thatâs not like Constance at all.â
Patience knew better. The old Gingersnap held nothing back. But Constance grew quite reticent when matters went amiss. Perhaps she did not secure the job. Perhaps she did not like the Beaumonts. Or perhaps she had run into Robbie after all.
âWhat do you suppose it means?â Mother asked.
âI suppose it means you should pray harder, Mother.â
âAye, I believe we all should.â
Mother returned to her armchair and her sewing.
Patience moved out to the porch, breathing in the fresh spring air. Some days she missed country life. But she would not waste prayers on Constance. That remained Motherâs arena, for whatever good it might do.
She herself was not convinced that God existed. As she surveyed the clear blue sky, she was reminded that one could not prove his existence beyond a reasonable doubt. And if indeed he did exist, then she would fall on the side of the deists. If God created the world, heâd long since left them to their own devices. God had never been there for her before. Why would he begin now?
No, Patience had no one to depend on but herself. She would give Constance one last chance. Patience wasnât a child anymore, and sheâd proven her skill at business. If need be, sheâd pull this family out of the ruins. Her older sister might fancy herself the head of this household, but Patience had proven a resourceful
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