Ireland Rose

  When that was done, she slipped a shawl over her shoulders and took a cup of hot tea to the front verandah and with a sigh sunk into the swing. She tipped her foot on the wood planks and pushed back and forth. Tears fell and plopped into her tea. She swiped them away, helpless to stop death from taking her husband. And so soon after he’d arrived.

  “There you is. I been wonderin’ where you tottered off to.” Portia came out, hands on her hips, looking, Rose knew, for signs of fatigue. “Yep, I done see for myself…you’s ready for some women-talk. Why don’t you call your friend Stella and have her come and make you laugh for a bit. I got nothin’ to do that cain’t wait. You go on now. I’ll get Thomas to run you a missive, soon as you write it down. Ain’t nobody come calling for days, afeared of the fever. Captain don’t have the Yellow Fever no more, his body done fought it but he’s just too weak to fight the chill he done got coming across them rolling waters and crazy-like winds. ‘Sides now the days are cooler Captain just might rest better.“

  Rose listened to Portia tell her things, but her heart wasn’t in the mood for visitors. “Call for Emmanuel to bring the small wagon, please?”

  “Child what you be thinkin’ on doin?”

  Since Portia’s hands were on her hips again, Rose decided to avoid her questions and said, “Taking a nice, long ride. Would you mind so much Portia?”

  “Chile, Emmanuel don’t mind driving you a’tall. You knows that.” She scolded. “Fact, he love running that pair o’horses onc’t in awhile. Says they don’t get ‘nuff walking.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Soon’s Captain Wyatt be gone, I’ll go on up and wrap some more o’them rags in that cream and put ‘em on Captain’s chest. Seems to help a mite, even if it stink like the barn out back.”

  Rose laughed. “I love the way you say things Portia…and without cracking a smile. You make me want to live my life right.”

  “Ya don’t say?”

  “I mean it.” She smiled and lifted her tired body off the swing, nearly tipping her cup off her saucer.

  “See, chile, you so tired, you cain’t even stand up. You ain’t ‘et nothing. Go on up them stairs and walk right on past that sickroom and take yoself a nap. When you get up Emmanuel’ll have them horses ready. And…just so’s you know, I ain’t gonna allow you to go to that Orphanage, you hear?”

  Rose wondered how she could read her mind. Maybe she was overwrought.

  “See’s there I knew you was wantin’ to get on over there again. You cain’t be going there and getting sick and hauling it back into de house. Captain be worse off for sure.” She scolded.

  “You’re right. I’m too tired to think….” Rose left her teacup and let herself in through the screen door, her feet dragging up each step. She wanted nothing more than to sleep off her tiredness. Body, soul, and mind. She hung onto the baluster to pull herself up the rest of the way and hearing Captain Wyatt’s gruff voice, walked to her room and fell across the bed then pulled her shawl over her.

  Portia came for her later in the afternoon. Rose sat up quickly when she heard her name.

  “Everything all right?” She jumped up.

  “All’s well. Captain Lovell sleepin’. Captain Wyatt done gone and Dr. Case come and left some kinda drink that took the worry right out o’his muscles. He snoring, chile!” Portia said with a chuckle.

  “Then he’s resting well.” Rose relaxed a bit.

  “You go on and get yourself a ride. Emmanuel been waiting, glad to be doin’ something. Dem horses clean and washed up like brand new babies.” She chuckled again. “And it be a nice, nice day. Not so hot. Christmas be coming again. Seems like we just had it last month.” She shook her head.

  “Time goes so slow sometimes, and too fast others.” Rose said quietly as she changed into a fresh dress and wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders. “Thank you, Portia…I don’t know…what I’d do without…”

  “Now don’t you be lettin’ dem pretty blue eyes water up none. Folks’ll think you ain’t strong. And I know you is.” She wiped a tear of her own away. “And Captain Lovell cain’t be seeing me a’bawling like a newborn calf.” She stood straighter and busied herself in the wardrobe. Then popped her head out and said, “Go on now. I can hear them wagon wheels coming down the road…”

  Portia heard the click of the little gal’s heels as she descended the stairs and for all the world couldn’t stop the tears that ran down her face. She smoothed the counterpane and straightened the pillows on Rose’s bed, knowing she’d be alone without father, mother, nor husband. And Captain Lovell a good man, too.

  “Lord I don’t know how we gonna do without him.” She said aloud then soothed herself and sang with her deep voice, “Swing Low…Sweet Chariot….comin’ for to carry me home….”

  She heard the wagon creaking, the horses shoes clomping on the stone-studded streets as Emmanuel drove away.

  Chapter 24

  Rose knew there was one person she could go to for comfort.

  “Emmanuel, drive me to Mrs. Perry’s house on Tradd Street.”

  He pulled into a crossroad and slowly turned the carriage in the opposite direction. Ten minutes later they were parked outside the Perry home.

  “You ain’t goin’ in Miz Lovell?”

  Rose twisted her lace hanky in her hands. “I never sent word.” She whispered.

  “Aw, you be needin’ to talk, you’s just go on up to that door and knock a bit. If’n she cain’t have comp’ny just now come on back and we’ll take the long way home.”

  Emmanuel’s soft voice was nearly her undoing. “But my husband….”

  “Capt’n Lovell be jus fine. Teeter be there. He be all right.” He said looking straight ahead a slight smile on his face.

  Rose smiled. He spoke with such confidence she relaxed. As long as they’d been together Emmanuel never once called his wife Teeter, at least not in her presence. She’d heard him once or twice when he hadn’t known she was nearby. But the endearment only caused her eyes to water up even more. And no proper society woman could be caught dabbing her eyes in public view for all to see.

  She squared her shoulders.,“Thank you. I believe I will go knock properly, Emmanuel.”

  He jumped down and came around and helped her down. “There you go. Me, I’ll just drive on over to the haymarket, ‘less you want me to wait right here.”

  “Thank you Emmanuel. Do as you please. Come for me in an hour please?”

  “I shore will Miz Rose.”

  She waved him off and he drew away slowly.

  Pulling in a deep breath she made her way up the steps onto the beautiful verandah gazing at the white wicker porch furniture, remembering their last visit.

  She tapped the brass knocker and waited. A maid came to the door, her white apron a contrast against the dark brown dress she wore. “Is Mrs. Perry in?”

  “I’m sorry ma’am she’s gone down to Savannah.”

  “I see.” Rose looked about for a moment, noting the woman’s English accent.

  The maid looked over her shoulder. “Your ride left ma’am?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid it did….I …I wasn’t thinking properly.” Her gloved hands twisted together.

  “Would you like a spot of tea? Come in. You may be seated in the parlor.” She opened the door wide.

  “It’s rather a nice day if you don’t mind I’ll stay on the verandah. Tea would be wonderful.”

  “Are you sure you’d rather sit out of doors, Miss?”

  “Yes, I prefer it.” Rose decided. “Two sugars, please and cream.”

  “Right away.” The young woman shut the door softly and hurried away.

  Rose seated herself on the white wicker chair after chasing several leaves off the seat. Indeed the winds were soft today and although it was getting chillier now with December upon them, she pulled her wrap around her neck and ears and sunk into the seat. She breathed in the light fragrance of the once potent white Gardenias in a hanging pot close by.
The season of change settled all about her as she closed her eyes and thought about her mother and father resting so far away in Ireland. She longed to have her mother’s keen words and her father’s kind looks about her again.

  The sense her life was about to change settled over her. She must make plans. Captain Lovell would not be long for this world and she would be alone in a city that was not her own. In a home she hardly deserved without a single person she belonged to. Perhaps she should try to correspond with family in Ireland. But all she had was the Bible her mother left her. The family tree was full; each entry made by her mother’s hand.

  Rose determined she would locate it one day soon. Right now she felt guilt creep up in her mind as her husband lay ill and she was sitting here. One hour, she told herself. One hour to think, to enjoy fresh air and time to decide where she would live and with whom. One purpose was planted firmly in her plans. She did not want another loveless marriage. One without children, without love.

  The maid came with a tray and placed it on the glass-topped small table near her.

  “How is Mrs. Perry?”

  “She and Mr. Perry have gone down to Savannah to attend her father’s burial services.”

  “Oh.” Rose said sadly. “I see. Please do not mention I was here, then.” She said quickly. “For indeed she has enough to think about now. I will send her a note.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Can I get anything else for you?”

  “I will not need anything further and will be on my way as soon as my carriage arrives. You have been most kind.”

  “Just tap on the door Mrs. Lovell and I will come to you. Mrs. Perry thinks highly of you and your husband.” She added quickly, bowed and hurried into the house.

  Rose was surprised she knew her name and wondered at it. Then remembered Stella’s loss and felt a certain heaviness of heart as she thought about her friend, and selfishly about herself knowing she would be grieving soon as well. She said a prayer for them both.

  After the cup was empty, Rose placed it in the saucer and laid her head back, tipping the rocker back and forth with a light tap of her foot. She shut her eyes and listened to the sounds of children playing nearby their shouting and laughter suppressed by the wind. Her mind relaxed and she remembered playing as a child in Baltimore…. Green isles and sparkling water running over rocks and down hillsides danced in her mind. Her homeland. Ireland.

  Suddenly a familiar sound crept into her dreams and she sat up. She forced her eyes to focus and realized Emmanuel was pulling up out front. She tried to push away the fuzziness in her brain and hands on chair arms, lifted herself. Her legs felt weak. She must have dozed for some time.

  Instantly the maid was at her side. “Ma’am are ye all right?”

  “Yes. Yes, I am….I’m sorry I must have …” Rose felt her face turn a shade of pink.

  “Not a worry a’tall, ma’am. I came to check on ya and ye was looking so peaceful….” She finished with a slight smile. “I’ll be sending ya on yer way now so you can get home.”

  “Thank you for the tea.”

  “Pleased to be of service ma’am.” She said and stood to the side, Rose knew, to wait until she left to gather the dishes.

  She walked on legs that didn’t seem like her own and was thankful when Emmanuel took her elbow and helped her up. When had she become so weak? Her mind worked overtime….what if she had Yellow Fever or Consumption. She knew from the Doctor’s talk that weakness was a definite symptom. She pushed the foolish thoughts away and knew she was just plain tired.

  “Home Emmanuel. I could use a bit of nourishment as I’m sure you could as well.”

  “Only been an hour, Miz Rose. I’m not tired at all.”

  “I shouldn’t be.” She declared and felt the heaviness of her eyelids as they wanted to shutter downward and stay that way. She allowed it, but for only a minute. Shutting out the world made her listen to the sounds. The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the 6 inch square cobblestones, the light talk of gentleman and ladies as they passed by. A shout of a mother calling her children to come for suppah. She had herself taken on the southern drawl and smiled, eyes still closed. She was mixed up. Full blooded Irish heritage born in the North and now living in the South. Who was she and where did she belong?

  Chapter 25

  Emmanuel pulled the carriage up to the front and let her off. She stopped to gaze at the beautiful home that Captain Lovell had bought years ago. A young man with a beautiful woman he loved captaining the Emerald Star back and forth across the Atlantic dozens of times. Coming home with gifts for his beloved. She wondered what he was like then -- young, handsome, full of life. And now he lay above stairs in the same house alone.

  Rose hurried inside and lifting her skirts ran unladylike up the stairs. She needed to see if he was all right. She feared walking in and stopped a few steps outside the door. No sounds came. He was all right, then. His coughing and sputtering were gone. Perhaps he would be better. She had prayed he would. That he could commandeer the Ireland Rose to London and back many more times. Hands at her waist, she smoothed her skirts and took off her bonnet. With it in her hand, she stood in the doorway and peered in.

  He was alone, propped up and reading. Reading?

  She called to him, “Sir you are well?”

  “At the moment.” He concurred and pulled the thin wire glasses off his nose. “Come.”

  She pressed herself next to the tall bed. “It is so good to see you looking so full of health.”

  “Portia has forced my hand with those awful mud-slathering treatments; a man couldn’t lay still for the smell alone.” He closed the book. “And how are ye child?”

  “I am well.” She paused. “I wish you wouldn’t call me child.” She said softly.

  “Ah, forgive me Ireland Rose.” He teased.

  She could see he was still weak, when he reached up to tap her cheek.

  “I cannot help but see your father in you. You will do well in life. He has taught you well.”

  “Yes.” She agreed. “And you have been kind to me . . . more than I deserve.”

  “Ah, I’ll have none of that.” He said firmly. “Now tell me what you have been doing at Jamison’s. I hear bits and pieces but I want to hear it from you. Take that chair and rest.” He told her.

  She pulled the chair closer and sat, resting her feet on the lower part of the bed frame. “I have cleared the attic of things that are in good condition. And some clothing as well. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “This is your house.” He said and gave her a look that said he didn’t want to repeat that.

  “Also, you have not been below stairs, but through a friend, we have taken the liberty of changing some draperies and upholstery in the large room.” She started to add…I hope you don’t mind…and pressed her fingertips over her lips.

  “The rooms were dark. I’m glad you made changes. Perhaps I will yet see them.”

  She heard a slight chuckle and felt her heart lighten immediately. “Shall I get you something to eat? Broth perhaps.”

  “No. Indeed not. Portia has fed me more than I can manage for one day. A glass of water would do.”

  Rose jumped up and poured water from the pitcher and handed it to him. She noticed his large workworn hands were thinner and that he shook slightly when he drank.

  He handed the glass back and she set it on the side table.

  “Have I tired you?”

  “I do believe I will lay back and shut my eyes.” He said as his lids closed. He lifted a hand, adjusted the pillows behind his head and scooted down into the covers.

  Rose slipped out of the room, content that her husband had finally come through the worst of it. He should be much better by tomorrow. She tiptoed out and flew down the stairs and out to the kitchens where she found Portia and reported the good news.

  “Captain Lovell has come round.” She said. “Your ministrations worked, Portia.”

  “Chile, don’t you come sneaking up on a body like
‘at.” She turned, hand over her heaving chest. “Be given my heart a stop just like ‘at.”

  “I’m sorry, Portia.” She said tapping her arm. “Next time I’ll come up quieter and address you first.”

  “Dat’s okay honey. I done hear’d your good news. Captain looking good ain’t he? I be thinkin’ trouble may have passed. That stuff shore do make a body well. Thinkin’ since they cain’t stand the smell, they just wanna get up outta that bed to get away from it.” She chuckled.

  “Portia, you do make me laugh! What’s for supper? I’m famished.”

  “Chile I knows you better now. You need to eat and keep yo’self strong. We cain’t all be sick tw’once. We be havin’ ham and grits and eggs all stirred up with butter and cream. Biscuits and honey and for d’sert, some apple pie.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” It’s been a long day. I feel so much better now. Can I help?”

  “Go on now. Git. I’d just out here in the garden to get some spice for dem eggs. ‘Bout ten minutes you come on back and we’s gonna eat inside tonight. Wind’s startin’ to pick up. I be thinkin’ we gonna have some cold days. I’ll be making some o’dat chicken and dumplin’s Captain love when he come home. Maybe we can even bring him down those stairs and sit at that big ole dining table and eat like real families do.”

  “Oh that would be ‘good. It’s been almost a year since we’ve done that. Your family will join us too…Captain Lovell’s back and he’ll insist you know.”

  “I knows that. Don’t be knowin’ how dat man keep breaking them society rules like he does and folks don’t give no nevermind. Course none of us done tole anybody ‘bout that.” She scurried away with a wave.

  Rose didn’t know what to do with herself, so she snuck back up the stairs and peeked in her husband’s room. He was sleeping quietly. No odd noises coming from his chest. She ran to her room on light feet and remembered she wanted to look for her mother’s old Bible. A quick rummage through the wardrobe and she had it in her hands. About that time, she heard Lily’s quick, light steps running upward.

  “Miz Rose, dinner done.” She said softly and was off again dashing down the stairs with hardly a sound.