Sarah's Ground (9781439115855) by Rinaldi Ann

Author:Rinaldi, Ann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2004-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

Twelve

In the weeks that followed I tried to remember if there was anything in any of Miss Semple’s teachings that prepared one for entertaining a French prince.

There was.

Girls, face your problems. Meet them head-on!

So much had to be done. The workmen were still fixing the road to the west gate. It was filled with ruts from frozen spring mud, which were deep and were now dust beds.

Upton asked me what I wanted done outside. “The hedges must be trimmed,” I said, “and the grass around the brick walks. And the walks weeded.”

He set the men working.

I had Priscilla bake a cake. Martha Washington’s “great cake,” for which we had the recipe. I sent for claret and groceries from Alexandria. They would not require supper, we were told. Just refreshment.

And then I had a thought. Did they speak English? Could I remember my French from my days in New Orleans? I have been practicing.

Thank heaven the place speaks for itself. The trees are lush, the lawns green, and the flowers in full bloom. Though it is August, we have plenty of flowers—lavender, heliotrope, pinks, phlox, ragged robin, Canterbury bell, musk roses, columbine, and sweet William. Even the old orange trees in the middle of the tumbledown greenhouses are in bloom.

I have picked some flowers and put them in vases in the house.

There is a special vase of musk roses in General Washington’s bedroom.

Well, the place is ready. We await the prince.

And then came a special messenger, up the road on horseback. I felt myself shake all over. Only bad news comes on horseback.

Upton met him, gave him some money, had the servants give him refreshment, and brought the letter to me.

It was addressed to me.

It was from an officer on Lee’s staff.

I looked at Upton. “I don’t know if I should open it. I might be accused of consorting with the enemy.”

His brown eyes sought mine in understanding, and he held out his hand for the letter, which I gave over.

I watched his expression turn into a scowl. “John Augustine Washington has been killed,” he said softly.

“Killed?”

“In the war.”

“I didn’t know he’d joined up.”

“Oh yes, I did. And apparently there was a skirmish in the western part of Virginia. And he was mortally wounded.”

I put my hands over my mouth to still the cry. Upton put a hand on my shoulder.

“A man with six children had no right to join the army,” I said.

“No, but he had to prove himself.”

I thought of him, how he’d been that last morning he was here, when I made him leave the house, how downtrodden and humble. I thought of him dead now. Oh, why had I been so pompous! Because I’d wanted to show my mettle to Upton and Miss Cunningham. And I’d made that poor man my victim. I was so ashamed of myself. Of course he’d gone and joined the army. Mayhap to prove himself to me, how did I know?

I wanted the letter, but I did not take it. I would not let it be said that I had touched a letter from Lee’s staff.

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