Page 16 of The Unforgiven
Miss Cole’s hand flew to her mouth and she let out a strangled moan. Her blue eyes filled with tears, and her face turned the color of curdled milk.
“Miss Cole, I asked you to be here because I know what you and Charles meant to each other,” Mr. Larson said. “I thought it best you hear it from me.”
Miss Cole nodded woodenly as tears spilled down her cheeks. She wrung her hands in her lap and sniffled, until Mr. Larson handed her his handkerchief, which she instantly used to wipe her streaming eyes.
“What do you mean?” Madeline asked, looking from Mr. Larson to Miss Cole. She had no idea what he was referring to, but that wasn’t her immediate concern. “Wh-what will become of me?” she stammered. “Am I to come live with you, Mr. Larson?”
“No, my dear. Your father drew up a will after your mother passed. He left very specific instructions for your care should anything happen to him before you were of age or married.”
“What kind of instructions?” Madeline felt as if she were floating on a thick mist, all sounds muffled by the moisture and familiar objects seemed shrouded in shadow. She no longer saw the sunlight or felt the heat. Instead, she felt cold and numb, and absolutely terrified. She might have expected some measure of support from Miss Cole, but she seemed lost in her own misery, rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around her middle.
“Paula,” Mr. Larson said, addressing Miss Cole, “I’m very sorry, but Charles made no provisions for you, since you weren’t legally wed. You will be paid through the end of the month, and of course, you may take anything that Charles gave you as a gift.”
Miss Cole stared at Mr. Larson, but her eyes looked blank, as if she didn’t quite understand what the lawyer was saying to her. “I’m destitute,” she whispered. “And unemployed.”
“I will be happy to provide you with a reference, if that will help.”
Miss Cole didn’t reply. She sprang to her feet and fled the room, her sobs echoing through the house. Madeline looked after her, confused by this extreme reaction to her employer’s death, but then understanding dawned. Her father and Miss Cole were fond of each other, and Miss Cole had nursed hopes of a marriage proposal. Knowing that her father was courting came as a shock, but at the moment, Madeline was too overcome with grief and uncertainty about her own future to give any thought to Paula Cole’s predicament.
“Madeline, your father stipulated that you must go to live with your kin at Arabella Plantation should anything happen to him.”
“I don’t have any kin, Mr. Larson. It was just Mama, Daddy, and me. He always said so.”
“Your father fell out with his family some years ago, but you do have relations—wealthy ones. You have a grandmother and a cousin. I sent a message this morning and received a prompt reply. They will be happy to have you.”
“But I don’t know them,” Madeline cried. “Why can’t I remain at this house until I’m of age? Mammy and Tess will look after me. We’ll be just fine.”
Mr. Larson shook his head. He suddenly looked older than his thirty-eight years and Madeline noticed that his hair was receding at the front. “Madeline, your father gambled frequentlyand suffered heavy losses. His debts will need to be paid. I will have to sell everything of value, including Tess, to pay his creditors.”
Madeline let out a cry of disbelief. Tess had been with them since before she was born. Both Tess and Mammy were family to her, the only family she had left. “And Mammy?” she breathed.
“You may keep Mammy since she’s too old to fetch much at auction. She will come with you to Arabella Plantation. You have until Sunday to pack your most precious belongings. I have arranged for the funeral to be held on Monday. I will drive you out to the plantation after that. Again, I’m very sorry, Madeline. I know how bewildered you must feel.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
She drifted up the stairs, closed the door to her room, and sank to the floor, completely indifferent to the damage it might do to her gown. Bewildered didn’t begin to describe how she felt. Her beloved father was gone, her home was about to be sold from under her, and her trusted friend was about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Even Miss Cole, of whom she was very fond, would disappear from her life after the funeral, going to either another position or some dodgy boarding house until she could find new employment.
Madeline closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool wood of the door as hot tears slid down her cheeks. She had a grandmother and a cousin she knew nothing about. Why would her father tell her his entire family was dead? What could have happened to cause such a permanent and drastic rift between mother and son? They’d agreed to take her in. Had they known of her existence all along or had they just learned about her from Mr. Larson? It was all too much to take in.
“Madeline, are you all right, child?” Mammy called through the door. “Open up now.”
“I just want to be alone, Mammy,” Madeline croaked.
“Come now, open the door to your old Mammy. I will comfort you.”
Madeline shifted away from the door, but she had no wish to see Mammy. No one could comfort her and no one could lessen the sense of mounting dread that threatened to engulf her. Only this morning her biggest concern had been ruining her new dress, but since then she’d lost everything she held dear. Well, everything except Mammy.
The older woman pushed her way into the room and pulled Madeline into a warm embrace. She smelled of fresh bread, coffee, and her own musky scent that was so familiar. Madeline buried her face in Mammy’s ample bosom and wept. Mammy held her until the worst of her grief passed, then helped her to her feet and walked her to the bed. Madeline began to protest but felt too exhausted to argue. She closed her eyes as Mammy drew the curtains to block out the harsh daylight.
“You’ll be all right, child,” Mammy said as she smoothed Madeline’s hair from her brow. “The Lord is kind and forgiving and will not hold you accountable for the sins of your father.”
“You mean the gambling and the drinking?” Madeline whispered, horrified that her father had sinned.
“That too,” Mammy mumbled and left the room before Madeline could ask for an explanation.
SEVEN
By the time Madeline came down, evening shadows had chased away daylight, leaving the parlor nearly pitch dark, with only the outlines of the furniture visible in the gloom. She walked past the open door and headed to the dining room. Mammy and Tess had retired to their rooms, having finished their chores for the day, but Mammy had thoughtfully left a tray for Madeline, knowing she’d get hungry eventually. She lifted the napkin and examined the cold chicken, cornbread, and greens on the plate. She sat down and ate slowly, savoring every bite as if it were her last. Every task she undertook in this house would soon be her last. In just a few days, she would go into the unknown, and the unexplained.
