Bennington seated at the other end of the table.
“Porter is indeed a charitable man.” His wife beamed a smile at him. “I wouldn’t have him any other way.”
He lifted his glass in salute. “Thank you, my dear. My hope is that we will be surrounded by as many caring friends in Martinsburg as we are here.” He drained his glass and held it out for Joshua to refill.
When everyone raised their glass to toast, so did Emily, forgetting her flute no longer contained juice. The wine began jangling herthoughts as she tried to absorb Dr. Bennington’s words. “Martinsburg?” she asked in a tiny voice. “You’re moving your family to Martinsburg?”
Every head turned in her direction. “Yes, Miss Harrison, right after the Christmas holidays.” He smiled patiently at her. “I have sold Bennington Plantation and will move my practice there.”
“You’re moving east because things have become uncomfortable for slavers here?”
The room grew so quiet one could hear wax drip from the sconces.
“No.” His heavy lids drooped, rendering his eyes impossible to read. “I’m moving because doctors are desperately needed in that area. Most doctors in the East have joined one or the other armies, leaving towns frightfully short of medical professionals.” Several guests put down their glasses and stared at her with undisguised hostility.
Emily couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Your guest just said planters are more welcome in eastern counties than here, where most farms are run without keeping people in bondage.”
Ladies reacted to Emily’s display of unfeminine behavior with a sharp intake of breath. To be sure, no one present had ever heard a woman speak so boldly before. The gentleman on Emily’s right covered her hand with his and squeezed, as though attempting to bring her to her senses. The older man on her left cleared his throat. “Here, here, miss. Do not talk of matters of which you have no knowledge.”
“But I do have knowledge of such matters, sir. Mr. and Mrs. Hull confirmed my suspicions about slavery in this area.”
“You are correct, Miss Harrison,” said Dr. Bennington. “Slaveholding plantations are few and becoming increasingly unpopular here, but that is not my reason for leaving.”
“Porter, you don’t owe this ill-bred young woman an explanation,” interrupted the elderly man. His bulbous nose had grown increasingly pink during the meal. “Isn’t she your governess? She should be sent back to the nursery to her charges at once, if not given her walking papers.”
More than one dinner guest nodded in agreement. Except forMargaret. She stared at Emily with wide-eyed horror. And not Mrs. Bennington, either. Oddly, she watched the ordeal with teary eyes, wringing her hands as though frightened of the outcome.
Sipping his wine, Dr. Bennington remained unruffled. “No, Walter. Miss Harrison is encouraged to speak her mind in my house. That’s how we are raising our daughters.”
Emily regained her composure and looked at him squarely. “I acknowledge that you are an unusually benevolent master, Dr. Bennington, but how can it be just to uproot and move your people miles away against their will?” Again, the room grew so quiet she could hear the clock ticking on the mantel.
“I agree with you, Miss Harrison. That is why I signed Deeds of Manumission today for all my workers. They are free men and women, and they can go east with us…or not.” He took another sip of wine, but his gaze never left his young employee. “I will resettle in Martinsburg with only paid staff. And I intend to send Margaret and Anne to Europe until I’m confident Virginia is free of hostilities that might threaten their safety.”
At long last, Emily was speechless.
S PRING 1862
Alexander had always preferred an active, dangerous life. Unfortunately it came with secrets, subterfuge, and deception. From his earliest days at the University of Virginia, he’d told his parents a steady stream of
“Porter is indeed a charitable man.” His wife beamed a smile at him. “I wouldn’t have him any other way.”
He lifted his glass in salute. “Thank you, my dear. My hope is that we will be surrounded by as many caring friends in Martinsburg as we are here.” He drained his glass and held it out for Joshua to refill.
When everyone raised their glass to toast, so did Emily, forgetting her flute no longer contained juice. The wine began jangling herthoughts as she tried to absorb Dr. Bennington’s words. “Martinsburg?” she asked in a tiny voice. “You’re moving your family to Martinsburg?”
Every head turned in her direction. “Yes, Miss Harrison, right after the Christmas holidays.” He smiled patiently at her. “I have sold Bennington Plantation and will move my practice there.”
“You’re moving east because things have become uncomfortable for slavers here?”
The room grew so quiet one could hear wax drip from the sconces.
“No.” His heavy lids drooped, rendering his eyes impossible to read. “I’m moving because doctors are desperately needed in that area. Most doctors in the East have joined one or the other armies, leaving towns frightfully short of medical professionals.” Several guests put down their glasses and stared at her with undisguised hostility.
Emily couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Your guest just said planters are more welcome in eastern counties than here, where most farms are run without keeping people in bondage.”
Ladies reacted to Emily’s display of unfeminine behavior with a sharp intake of breath. To be sure, no one present had ever heard a woman speak so boldly before. The gentleman on Emily’s right covered her hand with his and squeezed, as though attempting to bring her to her senses. The older man on her left cleared his throat. “Here, here, miss. Do not talk of matters of which you have no knowledge.”
“But I do have knowledge of such matters, sir. Mr. and Mrs. Hull confirmed my suspicions about slavery in this area.”
“You are correct, Miss Harrison,” said Dr. Bennington. “Slaveholding plantations are few and becoming increasingly unpopular here, but that is not my reason for leaving.”
“Porter, you don’t owe this ill-bred young woman an explanation,” interrupted the elderly man. His bulbous nose had grown increasingly pink during the meal. “Isn’t she your governess? She should be sent back to the nursery to her charges at once, if not given her walking papers.”
More than one dinner guest nodded in agreement. Except forMargaret. She stared at Emily with wide-eyed horror. And not Mrs. Bennington, either. Oddly, she watched the ordeal with teary eyes, wringing her hands as though frightened of the outcome.
Sipping his wine, Dr. Bennington remained unruffled. “No, Walter. Miss Harrison is encouraged to speak her mind in my house. That’s how we are raising our daughters.”
Emily regained her composure and looked at him squarely. “I acknowledge that you are an unusually benevolent master, Dr. Bennington, but how can it be just to uproot and move your people miles away against their will?” Again, the room grew so quiet she could hear the clock ticking on the mantel.
“I agree with you, Miss Harrison. That is why I signed Deeds of Manumission today for all my workers. They are free men and women, and they can go east with us…or not.” He took another sip of wine, but his gaze never left his young employee. “I will resettle in Martinsburg with only paid staff. And I intend to send Margaret and Anne to Europe until I’m confident Virginia is free of hostilities that might threaten their safety.”
At long last, Emily was speechless.
S PRING 1862
Alexander had always preferred an active, dangerous life. Unfortunately it came with secrets, subterfuge, and deception. From his earliest days at the University of Virginia, he’d told his parents a steady stream of
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