going on about manners and refinement, yet you demand the death of a harmless man. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"Well—well, I never..." Olivia sputtered indignantly.
Jacie bolted from the room, but Michael caught up with her as she was about to run up the stairs. "That was uncalled for," he admonished her. "You know Mother didn't really mean what she said. She's been demanding that old coot shot for years. Now I want you to come back to the dining room, apologize, and finish your dinner."
"And I want you to stop treating me like a child and giving me orders." She plucked his hand from her arm, lifting her chin defiantly. Even though he did not know she was leaving, she felt the need to let him know she had no intention of ever being subservient. "You are not my master, Michael. I am not your slave."
His face darkened. "But you are going to be my wife, and you will vow on our wedding day to obey me. Love, honor, obey . You can't say the words unless you mean them."
"I don't intend to," she fired back.
"Listen to me." He pushed his anger back. "I don't like it when we argue and I'm leaving early in the morning, way before dawn, because I want to take the first train for Charleston. We won't have another chance to talk, and I don't want us to part like this. Now please, come back with me and make peace. I'm going to do everything I can while we're away to convince Mother to give her blessing to our marriage right away, and it would help if she isn't angry with you."
"I just can't." Jacie could stand no more of his mother's criticism of Mehlonga. "Make my excuses, please. I am going to bed. Good night, Michael."
She went on up the steps, but she could feel him staring after her and knew he was hurt and miserable. She did not want to leave him that way and turned to tell him, "Everything will turn out for the best, Michael. You'll see." And she hurried to her room.
Michael wondered what on earth she was talking about. It worried him how strangely she had been acting lately, and he was concerned it might not altogether have to do with her parents dying so close together. He also did not like what he thought he had seen earlier; though he'd been a good distance away, it appeared that Zach was kissing her, but she would not have lied for him unless...
He gave his head a brisk shake. He would not allow himself to contemplate such a possibility. Jacie would never have anything to do with the likes of Zach Newton, or any other man but him. He was being silly, and once he got back from Charleston, everything would be fine. He would make it so.
* * *
It seemed to Jacie that it took forever till the house became dark and still. She crept from her room and tiptoed downstairs to the study. There, after lighting a small lantern and making sure the door to the foyer was closed, she sat down behind Michael's desk and wrote her letter:
My dearest Michael,
I am going away for a while, but please do not worry. There is something I must do. I cannot explain it to you now, but when I return in the spring, or before, I will tell you everything.
Affectionately, Jacie
Unfastening the necklace, she placed it beside the letter. She was not about to take something so valuable with her. It might be lost or stolen, or, God forbid, something might happen to her and she would never return.
There was a closet in the study that went through to the back hallway. Servants could move in and out, when summoned, without having to go through the main hall and foyer to enter. Absorbed in what she was doing, Jacie was unaware that the door to the closet had opened just a crack.
The letter finished, she took her satchel, which was empty, and let herself quietly out the front door, hurrying down the moonlit path to the cabin. She was wearing a simple muslin dress and would carry only one change of clothing, leaving room for the blanket. When it was packed, she breathed a sigh of relief that everything was taken care of. All she had to do
"Well—well, I never..." Olivia sputtered indignantly.
Jacie bolted from the room, but Michael caught up with her as she was about to run up the stairs. "That was uncalled for," he admonished her. "You know Mother didn't really mean what she said. She's been demanding that old coot shot for years. Now I want you to come back to the dining room, apologize, and finish your dinner."
"And I want you to stop treating me like a child and giving me orders." She plucked his hand from her arm, lifting her chin defiantly. Even though he did not know she was leaving, she felt the need to let him know she had no intention of ever being subservient. "You are not my master, Michael. I am not your slave."
His face darkened. "But you are going to be my wife, and you will vow on our wedding day to obey me. Love, honor, obey . You can't say the words unless you mean them."
"I don't intend to," she fired back.
"Listen to me." He pushed his anger back. "I don't like it when we argue and I'm leaving early in the morning, way before dawn, because I want to take the first train for Charleston. We won't have another chance to talk, and I don't want us to part like this. Now please, come back with me and make peace. I'm going to do everything I can while we're away to convince Mother to give her blessing to our marriage right away, and it would help if she isn't angry with you."
"I just can't." Jacie could stand no more of his mother's criticism of Mehlonga. "Make my excuses, please. I am going to bed. Good night, Michael."
She went on up the steps, but she could feel him staring after her and knew he was hurt and miserable. She did not want to leave him that way and turned to tell him, "Everything will turn out for the best, Michael. You'll see." And she hurried to her room.
Michael wondered what on earth she was talking about. It worried him how strangely she had been acting lately, and he was concerned it might not altogether have to do with her parents dying so close together. He also did not like what he thought he had seen earlier; though he'd been a good distance away, it appeared that Zach was kissing her, but she would not have lied for him unless...
He gave his head a brisk shake. He would not allow himself to contemplate such a possibility. Jacie would never have anything to do with the likes of Zach Newton, or any other man but him. He was being silly, and once he got back from Charleston, everything would be fine. He would make it so.
* * *
It seemed to Jacie that it took forever till the house became dark and still. She crept from her room and tiptoed downstairs to the study. There, after lighting a small lantern and making sure the door to the foyer was closed, she sat down behind Michael's desk and wrote her letter:
My dearest Michael,
I am going away for a while, but please do not worry. There is something I must do. I cannot explain it to you now, but when I return in the spring, or before, I will tell you everything.
Affectionately, Jacie
Unfastening the necklace, she placed it beside the letter. She was not about to take something so valuable with her. It might be lost or stolen, or, God forbid, something might happen to her and she would never return.
There was a closet in the study that went through to the back hallway. Servants could move in and out, when summoned, without having to go through the main hall and foyer to enter. Absorbed in what she was doing, Jacie was unaware that the door to the closet had opened just a crack.
The letter finished, she took her satchel, which was empty, and let herself quietly out the front door, hurrying down the moonlit path to the cabin. She was wearing a simple muslin dress and would carry only one change of clothing, leaving room for the blanket. When it was packed, she breathed a sigh of relief that everything was taken care of. All she had to do
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