Just Jane by William Lavender

drawn up in front of the house the next morning. It was all arranged: Robert and Clarissa would travel in the first, Jane and Mrs. Morley in the second. While the drivers loaded the baggage, the Ainsleys and their guests said hasty good-byes in the courtyard. Brandon fervently clasped Jane’s hands and promised to visit her soon and often, since her sweet company was essential to his existence. She gave him a distracted smile, and after embracing Arthur and Harriet with warm thanks for all their kindness, climbed into her carriage beside Mrs. Morley. Watching them, she noticed that although Arthur embraced and kissed his sister, he barely mumbled a word to Robert. How sad it was to see the brothers-in-law harboring resentment against each other. Harriet gave Robert and Clarissa expansive hugs and waved cheerily to her departing guests.
    Jane settled back, eager to be gone. But as the first carriage pulled out, Simon suddenly appeared beside the second, delaying its departure.
    â€œI know your uncle wouldn’t approve of my speaking to you, Jane. But I couldn’t let you go without saying good-bye. I’ll miss you.”
    Her eyes fixed on the carriage driver’s back, Jane replied with cold formality. “Really? How nice. I’m sorry I can’t say the same.”
    He regarded her with a puzzled frown. “What’s the matter? Are you angry with me about something?”
    Still she refused to look at him. “No, not angry, Mr. Cordwyn. Just disappointed.” Leaning forward, she spoke to the driver, “Move out, please.”
    As the carriage clattered away, Mrs. Morley looked back to see Simon staring after them with a look of slack-jawed astonishment. Her own face wore a look of shocked disapproval as she turned to the girl beside her.
    â€œI must say, Jane! That was really quite rude of you!”
    Jane tossed her head crossly. “I don’t care! I hate him, and I hate his boring school, and I can’t
wait
to get to Rosewall!”
And if that’s true
, she thought, tears stinging her eyes,
why do I feel so miserable?

Chapter 9
    As a young bride arriving in the South Carolina back-country, Clarissa Prentice had taken one look at the fourteen-foot-high stone wall encircling her husband Robert’s plantation house and its gardens, and called the place a fortress. To soften its appearance, she had ordered hundreds of climbing English roses brought in, which she had planted along the base of the wall. Soon the great expanses of stern, forbidding stone disappeared beneath fragrant bloodred blossoms and thorny growth, and the name Rosewall was born.
    A great iron gate guarded the only entrance to the grounds. Shimmering in the distance, a quarter mile beyond, the winding Edisto River lay, like a twisted thread on a deep green carpet. The three-story brick-and-timber mansion sat a hundred yards back from the gate. Surrounding the house was a garden paradise, complete with grape-laden arbors, masses of flowers, giant moss-hung oaks, lush green lawns, and meandering gravel footpaths. Gazing about, Jane felt that she had entered a world of almost unearthly peace and serenity. As she stepped into the house a few minutes later, the magnificent interior of high ceilings, richly paneled walls, and fine furnishings took her breath away. The Ainsley house in Charlestown was grand, but even in England Jane had never seen such splendor as this.
    A muscular giant of a man appeared, ebony black, completely bald, and barefoot. He was Omar, the butler, and he moved with uncommon grace and dignity. Omar bowed to each person in turn, with an especially low bow for Jane.
    â€œOmar here to serve you, miss,” he said in a resonant voice. “What you ask be Omar’s command.”
    Thanking him, Jane turned to meet the lighter black woman who now stood at his side. Cuba, the cook and housekeeper, was Omar’s wife. Her broad face crinkled with a warm smile. “Praise God, you