Rainbow Hammock

Prologue

RAINBOW HAMMOCK ISLAND, GEORGIA

October 31, 1858

The music died away, and a tired slave, liveried in green and gold, snuffed out the myrtle-wax candles in the ballroom. Voices softened to sleepy whispers as the revelers drifted off to guest rooms.

Brandon Patrick, elder son of Ames and Elizabeth Patrick and heir to Fortune’s Fancy plantation, bid the last of the party-goers a good night. Then he took the stairs two at a time, hurrying to reach the floor above.

The object of his impatient haste stood waiting for him on the second-floor gallery. Her indigo eyes danced with the glitter of excitement. She offered Brandon a warm smile, and thought to herself how handsome he looked in evening clothes.

Oh, Brandon, the ball was wonderful! Lilah Fitzpatrick, the overseer’s niece, exclaimed. The ladies looked simply elegant and all the gentlemen were so dashing!

Brandon laughed lightly at her girlish enthusiasm, his brown eyes twinkling behind thick, black lashes.

Lilah lowered her gaze, blushing at his admiring scrutiny, and added, But none as dashing as you, of course.

Brandon Patrick, two years Lilah’s senior, had been her idol for as far back as her memory would reach. Even as a callow youth he’d shown none of the gangling awkwardness his younger brother Jeremy was struggling now to grow out of. At nineteen, Brandon looked every bit the aristocrat he was—smooth of skin and fair of feature. He possessed the casual arrogance of one born to inherit wealth and position.

Brandon’s lean build made him appear to be even taller than his six feet. Lilah had never seen one coal-black hair out of place—not even when he raced his white stallion, Unicorn, through the surf, with her riding bareback behind him.

Even as Lilah thought how nature itself dared not mar his perfection, Brandon’s mind was working along the same lines concerning her.

He looked at her long, burnished-silver hair and her comely figure, clad simply in a gingham gown handstitched by her mother and faded becomingly to match her eyes. But instead of voicing his admiration, he teased, "Did you children have fun up here spying on the grown-ups from the gallery?"

Lilah assumed a pretty pout and stamped her foot daintily. Brandon Patrick, I am not a child! I’ll be eighteen in a few more months.

He let his appreciative gaze slide over her, from the full swell of her proud breasts, to her narrow waist, and on down to her curving hips.

So you will, Lilah. It’s difficult to realize that you’re the same tomboy who used to shuck her frock behind the big oleander and swim with me and Jeremy in Mother Nature’s own.

Brandon Patrick! Lilah gasped. How dare you bring up a lady’s past indiscretions!

He bowed to her. My apologies most sincere, I assure you, ma’am, he drawled. Now, may I have the pleasure of escorting the lady home?

Lilah placed her hand on his proffered arm and curtsied. By all means, sir. I’d be honored by such a noble escort.

Rainbow Hammock lay wrapped in moon-silver. A salt breeze wafted through the giant oaks, making the Spanish moss sway softly and teasing palm fronds into a quiet clattering. In the distance the waves lapped at the shore, offering a lulling peace to all who heard.

Lilah sighed at the night’s magic and squeezed Brandon’s arm affectionately.

Happy? he asked.

Joyously! she whispered.

So am I. Come here and let me show you what would make me even happier.

The next moment Lilah found herself encircled by Brandon’s muscled arms. She breathed in the scents of French brandy mingled with a slight hint of Cuban tobacco as his lips found hers.

Good smells …man smells, she thought, responding to his embrace.

Brandon held her close for a long time, his lips teasing, caressing, savoring hers. Lilah could feel his heart pounding against her breast. A warmth swelled inside of her as he sought the soft depths of her mouth. She imitated his actions, feeling emotions awaken that had never made themselves known before.

Brandon had kissed her on other occasions, so had Jeremy, but both playfully … never like this. Her senses reeled with delight.

When, at last, Brandon pulled himself away, Lilah waited for him to speak. His breathing now seemed the only sound in the night.

Lilah, Lilah, he whispered, still holding her close and stroking her hair, you’re so beautiful… so wonderfully sweet and innocent. I want to protect you… take care of you. He looked down into her eyes. Promise me something

Anything, Brandon, she answered, overwhelmed by the hypnotic power of his gaze.

Let me be your partner at your first All Hallows’ Eve ball next year. I want to be the one to introduce you to the whole world and show them what a fine lady I have in you. You’ve more class than any blue-blooded daughter of Savannah. We’ll show them all… you and I!

The moment before his lips touched hers again Lilah sighed, Yes, Brandon. Oh, yes!

In the early rose-gray dawn Lilah lay dreaming of the hours before—the children’s party at Fortune’s Fancy, where she and the others too young to attend the ball had watched from the gallery above, enjoying the sight of elegantly costumed dancers, and the sounds of the slave-musicians. Best of all, Brandon Patrick waltzed the ballroom of her dreams, his lips touching hers, his arms holding her close.

She smiled happily while she slept. He hadn’t said he loved her, but she knew he did… as much as she loved him.

A scratching at the window and a voice brought her instantly awake. Miss Lilah, you got to come quick!

Though the area outside the window still lay in violet shadows, Lilah recognized the voice of Rhea, the beautiful Ibo slave who worked as an upstairs maid at Fortune’s Fancy.

Lilah slipped out of bed and hurried to the open window. Rhea, what are you doing here at this hour? What’s wrong?

She could see the young servant had been crying.

Miss Lilah, it’s been terrible up to the big house all night … ever since Mister Brandon come back from fetching you home. Miz Patrick been carryin’ on somethin’ fierce. She mad as the pure-tee devil! I ain’t never seen such a row amongst white folks!

Rhea, please try to calm down and tell me exactly what you’re talking about.

I can’t calm down, Miss Lilah. You don’t hurry, you gonna miss him altogether. And my Kingdom, he say to fetch you to Rainbow Landing quick as I can!

Still not knowing what was afoot, but attuned to the urgency in Rhea’s voice, Lilah dressed quickly, then slipped out of the window.

Rhea headed at a half run in the direction of the dock.

Rhea, Lilah insisted, straining to keep up, why are we going to the landing this early? Kingdom never takes the boat over to Savannah before sunup unless it’s an emergency.

That’s what it is! I tell you, Miss Lilah, all holy hell done broke loose last night when Mister Brandon told his ma and pa you his gal and he makin’ plans for the future!

Lilah stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Rhea. Brandon actually said that?

He purely did! But then they had their say… ’specially Miz Patrick. She say, ‘No son of mine gonna make any plans with the overseer’s niece!’ She say she got ways of nippin’ things like this in the bud. She order Mister Brandon up the stairs and have Blue pack his bags… says he old enough now to go off to Savannah and work for his uncle Oscar… make a cotton factor out of him, ’stead of a planter. Mister Brandon, he fume and fuss, but she ain’t havin’ none of it. Miz Patrick done laid the law down!

Lilah gasped in disbelief. She’s sending Brandon away? What will I do, Rhea? Tears brimmed to the surface of her indigo-blue eyes. I love him! He can’t go!

Well, he goin’, Miss Lilah. And Miz Patrick didn’t even want him to see you ’fore he left. But my Kingdom, he say for me to fetch you right off

The two women reached the end of the white ribbon of oyster-shell road. A few yards away they could see two tall silhouettes against the lightening sky. Kingdom, the young black giant who headed the Patrick boat crew, moved away from Brandon Patrick. He motioned his wife to follow so that Lilah and Brandon could have some privacy for their farewell.

For several long moments Lilah and Brandon stood a few feet apart, staring at each other. The tears in Lilah’s eyes now slipped down her cheeks. Brandon’s finely chiseled features showed the strain of a long night of anguish replacing sleep.

I didn’t think I’d see you again, he said softly.

You would have left without telling me, Brandon? Lilah murmured, hardly daring to trust her voice.

He covered the space separating them in two long strides, and closed his arms around her, burying his face in her fragrant hair. No, he whispered, I couldn’t have.

Lilah could feel him trembling with emotion as he sought her lips with a desperate need.

Oh, my sweet Lilah, Brandon moaned, I don’t want to leave you. You mean everything to me. I want us to be together to share the rest of our lives.

A sudden fear twisted inside Lilah. She tightened her arms around Brandon’s neck as if in that way she could hold him to her and the island, preserving this moment for eternity.

Take me with you, Brandon, please.

He seemed to consider her request for an instant, then shook his head sadly. It would never work. Mother would only have Uncle Oscar send me somewhere on business to get me away from you. I might even be sent to the office in Liverpool—an ocean away!

But if we were… She tried to form the word married but realized it was not her place to suggest such a thing. Any proposal would have to come from Brandon.

The rising sun turned the water behind them into an artist’s palette of Venetian red, alizarin crimson, and Mars yellow. Lilah’s pale hair, falling straight down her back to below her waist, caught the tints and glowed softly in the light. She stood motionless, waiting for Brandon to say the words she so longed to hear.

Instead, he pressed her lips gently once more, then with greater urgency. For a long time they stood clinging to each other.

Kingdom broke the spell, calling out, Mister Brandon, we gots to be going, if we gonna make the tide.

Brandon stepped away from Lilah reluctantly, but held her with the gaze of his smoldering brown eyes. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something… of asking the all-important question.

Go on! Lilah’s mind and heart pleaded. Say the words, Brandon!

But, if he didn’t speak the syllables she longed to hear, his parting kiss said, I love you, Lilah! and so much more.

Brandon, sitting rigid and silent in the boat, watched the figure at the landing disappear.

So, he thought, I’ll never have her. Whatever I do, her background will always stand between us. I could deal with mother, but how does one deal with ghosts?

A loneliness he’d never known before closed around his heart.

For a long while after the boat pulled out of sight across the gilded sea, Lilah stood gazing out at the emptiness. How long before he’d return to her? And how could she live without him near?

Chapter 1

RAINBOW HAMMOCK

October 24, 1859

Lilah Fitzpatrick, her silky hair shining in the warm Georgia sun, sat on the veranda of Fortune’s Fancy, gazing out over the manicured lawn. She watched two peacocks, their iridescent fans spread, strut magnificently, as if they owned Rainbow Hammock.

She sighed. How wonderful it would be to own the world!

To Lilah, Rainbow Hammock was the world—the only one she’d known in her eighteen years. Her sole reality lay in its gnarled, moss-shrouded oaks; misty marshes; wide, white beaches; and the shimmering fields of long-staple cotton.

She could still picture Brandon Patrick riding up the shell road on his white horse or striding in from the fields to the house when the dinner bell sounded. The memory of his kisses lingered in her dreams.

Almost a year, she thought, and not a word from him. But soon he’ll be home. I feel it!

Lilah, for Chrissakes, quit daydreaming and come help me. Jeremy Patrick interrupted her reverie I’m all thumbs when it comes to tying up these corn dolls. And you, Amalee, he tossed his twin sister an accusing glance, are worse than useless!

The corn husks are rough, Amalee whined from a comfortable rocker at the shady end of the veranda. I’ll positively ruin my hands. Besides, it’s too hot to work. I don’t see why the servants can’t make the decorations for the ball.

We’ve always done it. Ever since we learned to tie a string, Lilah replied matter-of-factly.

But it was different before, Amalee insisted. We weren’t old enough to go to the ball then. I certainly don’t want Henri Dupree and the other boys from Savannah who’re coming to ask me to dance and find my hands rubbed rough as a nigger’s from all this work. Honestly, that would simply mortify me!

Jeremy bombarded his complaining sister with a hail of brightly colored kernels, sending her into a fit of protesting squeals.

You bastard! Amalee shrieked at her brother.

A disapproving, black face appeared at the front door and peered at the three with saucerlike eyes. I done heared somethin’ that I didn’t hear a-tall. Leastwise, Miz Elizabeth ain’t gonna know I heared it ‘less it happens again. Your ma don’t cotton to young ladies usin’ that kind of talk!

Having warned the trio, old Zalou, who had served as Elizabeth Ryan Patrick’s mammy before taking charge of Amalee, disappeared down the hallway.

Lilah bent to pick up the scattered corn. The velvet-blue shadows cast by the morning glory vine on the trellis flitted like playful butterflies on her long hair.

She glanced at Amalee and then at Jeremy. The twins were so alike with their auburn curls, Irish-green eyes, and quick tempers. Only moments before, Amalee had complained that Jeremy and Lilah were having all the fun and weren’t letting her do anything.

You just rest yourself, Amalee, Lilah said. Jeremy and I can finish up the last of these corn dolls in no time. A flicker of a frown crossed her face and her indigo eyes suddenly went deep violet. It won’t matter if my hands get a few more callouses. I won’t be going to the All Hallows’ Eve ball.

Her thoughts were again on Brandon, the twins’ older brother, and her promise to be with him on that night.

Not going to the ball? Jeremy cried. What the hell do you mean, Lilah?

You watch your language, Jeremy Patrick, or Zalou will have Mama out here! Amalee cautioned.

I don’t give a damn! he shot at his sister, then caught Lilah by the shoulders. Of course you’ll be at the ball. It wouldn’t be right without you there. We’re all eighteen now, and you know how we’ve been looking forward to our first fancy party. He threw back his head and laughed aloud. I must admit though, I’ll miss spying on the guests from the gallery. Remember last year when old Uncle Oscar slipped and almost drowned in the apple bobbing tub?

All three joined in the laughter as Jeremy did a drunken dance and leaned over the veranda railing in imitation of his uncle’s desperate flailing in the apple tub.

Lilah grew silent, then said, Yes, I’ll miss all that this year.

You won’t miss a blasted thing, I’m telling you! Jeremy grew adamant. Why are you talking crazy, girl?

Before Lilah could answer, Jeremy exaggerated a sweeping bow and grabbed her. He whirled her about the veranda until they both grew dizzy.

Amalee, noting the gleam in her brother’s eyes, tossed her head in a show of jealous-disgust.

When the two of them lost their balance and landed in a tangled heap, Lilah said, Jeremy, I haven’t been invited to the ball.

He stood up and stamped one sleek-booted foot. If you don’t beat all! Of course you’re invited. You’re one of us, Lilah. What the hell do you want? One of those fancy, engraved invitations Mama had made up in Savannah?

Amalee eyed Lilah’s prettily flushed cheeks with more than a hint of animosity, and said, Jeremy, don’t pester her so. Maybe Lilah doesn’t want to come to the ball.

Of course, I want to come, Amalee. It’s only that—

Then it’s all settled, Jeremy cut in. He flopped down in a rocking chair next to Amalee’s and patted the one beside it, signaling Lilah to join them.

Jeremy poured two tall glasses of cider, then pulled a silver flask from inside his shirt, and spiked his with a healthy shot of whiskey.

Ah-h-h, he sighed. Nothing makes a man feel better than a good drink and a pretty woman beside him.

Elizabeth Patrick had viewed Jeremy and Lilah’s terpsichorean display from just inside the wide entrance hall. Now her anger boiled as she watched her younger son reach over and pat Lilah’s hand affectionately. She stood by… listening… waiting.

I don’t even have a decent gown to wear, Jeremy, Lilah protested truthfully.

Ah, hell, Amalee’s got a hundred! She’ll let you wear one of hers.

Amalee drew up, affronted by her brother’s casual offer of her belongings.

Most of the guests come in costume, Lilah honey. You could always wear that old patched calico you have on now and come as white trash, Amalee drawled sarcastically. Or, better yet, blacken your face and tie your hair up in a tignon and come as one of Papa’s nigger wenches!

Shut up, Amalee! Jeremy growled, the whiskey turning him mean as it always did.

While Lilah sat aching inside from Amalee’s cruel words, and trying to control her own temper, Elizabeth Patrick swished onto the veranda, her gray silk rustling and her brown eyes stone-hard.

Lilah, if you’ve finished here, I have some mending inside that you can take home for your mother to do for me.

Lilah stood up. Yes, ma’am.

Come with me, then, Elizabeth commanded.

Elizabeth Patrick moved so swiftly through the hallway that by the time Lilah caught up with her in the parlor, the mistress of Fortune’s Fancy already stood angrily fingering the gold fringe of the burgundy velvet drapes that framed the four large windows.

For several moments Lilah stood uncomfortably, waiting for Elizabeth Patrick to turn and speak. Something warned her that the last thing on the woman’s mind at the moment was mending. Lilah could see Mrs. Patrick’s shoulders heaving, betraying some strong, emotional struggle.

Come here, Lilah, Elizabeth Patrick said without turning. There’s something I want you to see.

Lilah moved to the window obediently.

Look across the lawn, the road, the first field. What do you see?

Lilah, unable to guess what answer was expected of her, replied, Why, Rainbow Hammock—for as far as the eye can reach.

Just as I thought, Elizabeth said in a cold tone. You see the forest but not the trees. You see what you want to see rather than the true facts. It’s time I opened your eyes to a few things!

Lilah stared at Elizabeth Patrick, confused.

Pointing, Mrs. Patrick continued, "The overseer’s cabin… that’s what I want you to see! Take a good look at it, Lilah Fitzpatrick! That’s your home—that poor tabby shack and the worked-out piece of ground it sits on. You don’t belong at Fortune’s Fancy. You don’t even belong on Rainbow Hammock, at least not any part except the few acres your family owns."

But I don’t understand, ma’am.

Exactly! You don’t understand; you never have. It was my husband’s foolish idea to treat you as a cousin to our own children, to school you with the twins since you’re their age. But I never approved… never! And now it’s come to this! I heard your conversation with Jeremy and Amalee just now. Can you imagine what our friends would say if you showed up at the All Hallows’ Eve ball? The overseer’s niece? It’s unthinkable!

Lilah felt as if she were shrinking inside her clothes. Elizabeth Patrick’s words made her feel like a bad person, but she wasn’t sure why. She ached to turn and run… to hide somewhere so that she’d never have to face another living soul. But there was no escape.

I don’t want you around my children anymore. I say, children, but you aren’t children now. Both Amalee and Jeremy will marry soon and bring their families here to Fortune’s Fancy to live. How do you think it would look for the overseer’s niece to have the run of the place? Why, we’d be the laughingstock of coastal society! You were wise to tell Jeremy that you haven’t been invited to the ball. Believe me, you are not welcome!

Suddenly, all the hurt Elizabeth Patrick had inflicted welled up in Lilah and she wanted to strike back, no matter how slight a blow.

I’ll stay away from your house, from Amalee with pleasure, and from Jeremy, Mrs. Patrick. But you’re wrong about the ball. I have been invited. Brandon asked me to come the morning you sent him away. If Brandon keeps his promise to me, he’ll be here to escort me to the ball. Short of dishonoring your son in front of your friends, I don’t see how you can keep me from coming! Now, if you will excuse me, ma’am.

Lilah whirled about to leave, but ran headlong into Ames Patrick.

The big, sandy-haired man smiled down at her, and said, Blast it all, missy, if you don’t get prettier every day!

Lilah burst into tears, pulled away from Ames Patrick, and ran from the room.

And just what was all that about? he asked his wife. Did you take a whip to the girl? God knows, you’ve threatened to often enough!

The ball, Elizabeth answered glacially. Just what do you plan to do about this problem?

Ames walked over to the window and put an arm about her shoulders, feeling somewhat in awe that her stiff, unyielding body could still arouse him.

Darling, you always work yourself and everyone on the place into an absolute fidget over this damned party, and it’s never failed to be the success of the social season. Take it easy. We still have plenty of time to get everything done.

She pushed away from him when his big hand cupped one silk-covered breast. Her husband’s advances repelled her. She’d abided his touch long enough to be impregnated six times and give him three healthy children, but no more. Standing safely out of his reach, she touched the smooth, blue-black chignon at the nape of her neck and gave him a frigid look.

"You have plenty of time to settle this problem, Ames Patrick! I’ve tried and failed apparently."

What problem, Elizabeth? The master of Fortune’s Fancy studied his wife’s face more closely. What he saw alarmed him—the predatory fire in her dark eyes, the resolute set of her patrician jaw.

Lilah Fitzpatrick! She spat the name out as if it tasted vile in her mouth. I found out that she’s planning to come to my ball! I won’t have it, Ames, and I told her so! But she defied me. This is all your fault—the way you’ve pampered her all these years. Why, the girl actually considers herself part of this family!

Elizabeth, calm yourself! You know as well as I do that she’s been good for all of us. She’s taken the place of the little girl we lost. The twins certainly enjoy her company. And we both know how Brandon feels about her.

Ames realized his mistake before the words were out of his mouth.

Elizabeth attacked with angry tears and harsh words. I know all too well how Brandon feels about her! You don’t have to remind me. It broke my heart to have to send him off to Savannah last year. But it was the only way. Thank God, things have worked out for him. But now Jeremy is looking at her through a man’s eyes. Am I going to have to go through the same thing with him? No! I can’t and I won’t!

For heaven’s sake, Elizabeth, take it easy! It’s only a party. What harm could her being there possibly do?

What harm? she shrilled. You’re as bad as Brandon and Jeremy where Lilah Fitzpatrick is concerned. A pretty face and a satin tongue do not a lady make! And what about poor Amalee? Your own daughter feels that you’ve always placed her second to the overseer’s niece! How will she feel at her first ball, having to take a backseat to Lilah Fitzpatrick?

Amalee’s pretty enough, Ames replied. She’ll have her share of young men dancing attendance. And as for my favoring Lilah, that simply isn’t true, Elizabeth, and you know it!

Oh, do I? she demanded. I repeat, I will not have her at the ball or at Fortune’s Fancy any longer!

What do you expect me to do about this situation, Elizabeth? Ames growled.

Simply make sure she understands that she’s not welcome!

Ames Patrick stared at his wife in disbelief. And just how am I supposed to explain this sudden change to our children? They’ve accepted Lilah as one of them all their lives.

Your fault again, dear Ames, and your problem! How you explain is no concern of mine. Simply make sure they all understand!

Elizabeth Patrick whirled away from him and out of the room. Ames stared after her, the noon sun picking out the gray strands in his reddish hair. His broad shoulders sagged visibly.

Blast the woman! he said aloud, slamming his fist down so hard on the marble top of a Belter table that the late roses jumped in their silver vase. She has ice water for blood and granite for a heart!

He gazed up at a portrait of his grandfather Simon’s sister-in-law, Maureen. With her pale hair, hypnotic blue eyes, and sweet expression, she could have been her great-great-granddaughter, Lilah Fitzpatrick.

Ames laughed bitterly. Perhaps Lilah was really Maureen, come back to haunt him for what old Simon did to her family.

Gazing out the window, he saw Lilah running down the shell road toward the avenue of oaks.

He paced back and forth, following the intricate, patterned border of the rug. He stopped in front of the piano he’d ordered from R. and W. Nunns of New York—the instrument Lilah played as if she’d been born with her delicate fingertips poised on the ivory, but which still confounded his daughter, Amalee.

He traced the gadroon beading of the upright case with one finger. He touched the rayed silk that finished the front of the fine instrument, its rich rose folds held in place by a passion flower medallion.

His hand stopped on the cool metal blossom and he smiled. Yes, his idea might work! He could have it both ways! Elizabeth would never suspect a thing!

Ames Patrick moved swiftly for a large man. In seconds he was out of the house, heading for the oaks to find Lilah.

Lilah sat huddled against the rough bark of the oldest live oak on Rainbow Hammock. Legend had it that the sprawling giant, with its low, thick trunk and meandering branches, grew out of the grave of an Indian maiden who died of a broken heart when her lover drowned.

The oak had been Lilah’s secret place all her life. She often climbed its leafy branches and perched on a broad limb to tell the long-dead Indian girl of her troubles, her happiness, her sorrows, and her dreams. Today she came to hide. Only embraced by the familiar arms of this ancient friend could she deal with the pain Elizabeth Patrick had inflicted.

I’m not different! she said aloud. I’m as good as Amalee Patrick—better at most things. I refuse to be treated like common white trash! People may sneer at us, but the Fitzpatricks come of proud stock. Why do they treat us this way?

A rush of angry, hurt tears stopped her words. She hugged a wide branch and sobbed until her head throbbed and her chest ached.

Lilah, Ames Patrick called. Lilah, where are you?

She didn’t answer, but her crying had given her away.

What are you doing up there, child? he asked when he caught a glimpse of her through the foliage. Come down here and talk to me. I’m sorry my wife was so brusque with you, but I smoothed things over. He paused. Lilah, did you hear what I said?

Her sobs subsided. Ames Patrick had treated her well all her life—as well as her own father might have, if he’d lived. Some of the ache eased. She slipped down through the branches to where he could see her plainly.

Tell me why you’re crying, child, Ames said with true concern. Come down here to me. He held out his arms to help her. It’s the ball, isn’t it? he continued. You’ve been looking forward to your first party as much as Amalee.

Doesn’t matter, she managed, fighting back the tears.

Ames smiled broadly at her. Don’t try to fool me, young lady. I know how much this thing means to you girls. And you have my assurance that you’ll be at the ball and no one will try to embarrass you or send you away. Now give me a smile.

Lilah looked gratefully at Ames Patrick. Brandon is like his father, she thought. They’re both such kind, loving men. She smiled weakly.

There. That’s better, he said. Now, I want you to keep this a secret from everyone but your family. It’s all right if you tell your mama and Granny. But let’s just let it be a surprise to all the others. He laughed softly. Agreed?

Lilah nodded, hugged Ames Patrick impulsively, then ran down the lane to the overseer’s shack, her heart much lighter.

She might not even go to the ball now, but at least she’d been invited. She’d won her small battle!

Chapter 2

That same bright golden afternoon Lilah Fitzpatrick knelt beside Kingdom as they worked in the kitchen garden outside the