Chapter One

 

"He's keeping secrets from me!" At twenty-three years of age, Lucretia Borgia was almost considered a spinster. But at least she'd finally managed to get herself engaged to one of the wealthiest men in all of Winchester, Virginia. So what if people looked at him and whispered about the peculiar practices he employed in his treatments for women's hysteria. And so what even more, if they did the same to her for agreeing to marry the eccentric doctor who kept so much to himself. Their neighbors, or the people who didn't know them very well, which included most everyone around, were still in a tizzy that she was living with a man she wasn't even married to yet, was probably carrying on with him like a common whore and even more horrifying, that neither she nor her fiancée seemed to care what anyone thought of it. Lucy smiled at her reflection in the glass, looking at the dark skinned girl who stood behind her, "I can always tell when he's lying."

The slave ran the brush through her Mistresses long, dark hair, "What you s'pect it is, Miss?"

Lucy tipped her head slightly to the side. She really was pretty, wasn't she? She especially liked her dark, brown eyes. Funny how she'd never given that fact much thought before meeting Beauregard. "I haven't a clue, Dinah, but he's being awfully funny about things lately. At first I reckoned it was on account of all this war talk. You know how he is. Well, these past three months he can barely go a day without a paper in front of his face and he gets all sorts of mail from people I've never heard of. A letter came from Ohio of all places for him last week. Ohio! Who does he know in Ohio, I ask? And he says an old doctor friend but then makes no mention of it again. He hasn't given me a pin of input for the wedding. We've only got two weeks. These past couple of days I find him and Max whispering all over the house and grounds and as soon as they see me they get all proper and stiff-collared. If that isn't suspicious to secret holding, I dare say I don't know what is."

Dinah wound the freshly scented hair she'd spent the past twenty minutes brushing into a bun at the base of Lucy's neck, pinning and tying it tightly into place. Her Mistress turned her head this way and that as Dinah held a second mirror up behind her work.

"That's fine. Go tell Cassy I'm ready to go. I'll meet her at the front door. Then go to Abby and see if she needs any help. We'll be gone to Mother's the entire afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You did tell them we'd need the pony-chaise all day, didn't you?"

"Yes, ma'am"

"Good. Go on then. If Abby has no use of you, your day is your own."

Knowing Lucy's whims all too well, Dinah hurried from the room before the mind of her Mistress could change. Only a few years younger than Lucy, Dinah had been with the Borgia's since the age of five. The day she had been told she would be leaving the home of Lucy's father and mother and moving with her Mistress to Greenbrier, Dinah had fallen to her knees in praise. Edward Borgia was not a pleasant man even on the best of days. After a year's service here, Dinah doubted she would ever understand the particulars of Lucy and Master Beauregard's relationship. Even more beyond her comprehension was the occasional visitation of a woman by the name of Vivianne Daniels who, quite literally, took over the place as soon as she set foot on the property. Lucy's have-it-her-way demeanor paled in comparison to Vivianne's.

The strangest of all the circumstances within the Addams' was that Lucy and the doctor's favorite slave, a Creole beauty by the name of Cassy, would quite often walk about completely unclothed. They would appear at the breakfast or dinner table in nothing at all. Sometimes Lucy did not even take her proper place at the table, but would sit on the floor beside Master Addams and eat from his fingers as if she were his pet instead of his fiancée. Despite all the eccentricities followed at Greenbrier Plantation, Dinah was enjoying herself completely.

 

From the window of the dining room Beau watched the pony-chaise carrying his fiancée and Cassy away for the remainder of the day. They were off to make more wedding plans. He was not as concerned with all the trappings of the ceremony and reception as his future wife. A quick trip to the parson would have suited him just as well as all the fanfare and extravagance that Lucretia was planning. But, it was her first wedding and she was entitled to have it as wonderful as she wished. In two weeks the flurry would be over. The doctor had never been thought of as eligible. Too much gossip surrounded him and his self-stylized school and home for that. Wild rumors of orgies and taboo practices had waxed and waned throughout the city almost since the day he'd arrived. After all, the thirty-seven year old man never attended church so he must be up to no good living way out there, isolated from the rest of proper society. The only people who didn't whisper behind his back were his satisfied female clients, their husbands or his former students. They would smile as he passed, sometimes giving him a nod of recognition but usually just blushing softly before turning their gaze away.

Lucretia had been one of those students, or patients, whichever one preferred to call it. It had not been a willing treatment at first, but the doctor had a way with willful females like her. A way that turned them around and created what many men thought to be the perfect woman; quiet, domestic, submissive and well trained in the many ways of pleasing her lover. Lucy was at least three of those, most of the time.

"It's going to be tough, Max," Beau pulled a cigar from his vest pocket. "Let's have a smoke before the post gets here, shall we?"

"You're going to have to tell her, sir," Max's strawberry-blonde hair hung over one eye.

"I know." He drew in a long breath and released it with a heavy sigh, turning to look out the window once more. "Have you considered how to break the news to Vi?"

"I have given it considerable thought, sir." Years ago, Max had belonged to Vivianne and would always be looked at as one of her boys. Now he served the doctor.

"And?"

"I am no closer to it than you are with Miss Lucy."

"Here comes the post. It's early today." He remained as he was, knowing someone else would answer the door. Max rose from his chair as the knock came. "Yes, let us get on with this terrible business, shall we?" Beau turned and followed Max out.

 

Alice Borgia was a worrisome woman. Her gray hair was seldom as neatly in place as her daughter's. Her work-worn hands fidgeted in her lap and her eyes, once a bright blue but now dulled to cloudy gray, flitted about her surroundings, "More tea, dear?" she lifted the pot for a third time since her daughter and the Creole had arrived.

"We're fine, Mother. Please, relax."

"Of course, you're fine. You're marrying such a wonderful man, the doctor." Mrs. Borgia flushed a youthful pink. It left as quickly as it had appeared and her face returned to the faded, dull pallor it had grown accustomed to. She looked up, eyes shifting as she listened, "Is that your father?"

"Mother," Lucy held her mother's hand gently under her own to keep it from fluttering about. "Dr. McGuire will be by tomorrow. I am sure there is no change. Focus on something pleasant, like my wedding to Dr. Addams."

"Your wedding, yes, your wedding."

"We came to discuss the menu. I was hoping you could give me some of the recipes I asked you about so Abby could make them." The blue-gray eyes looked at Lucy hesitant and unsure. "The fish recipe, Mother, and the others, for the vegetables."

"Yes, of course, I have them. I'll get them for you." The woman, no more than five foot tall and far too thin for even that height, rose. Her hand touched the lid of the teapot again. "Do you...?"

"We can get our tea. You get the recipes." Lucy smiled, but it was not the carefree smile she so often had. It was etched with sadness and worries of her own. Once her mother was from the room, Lucy turned to Cassy and hid nothing of her concerns. "We need to have her sent North as soon as we can after the wedding."

"North?"

"To my aunt's in Pennsylvania."

"She won't leave your father."

"You know as well as I that if Father makes it to my wedding day it will be a miracle. That's why I asked Max to give me away." It was a pity two occasions so unalike filled her thoughts all hours of the day and night on top of whatever it was Beauregard was up to. If only she didn't have so many things to do on her own, "Oh, Cass, I'll be so happy when this is all over with and we are on our way to France. Quels joie et bonheur sera a nous!"

Cassandra smiled seeing the joy in her friend and Mistresses eyes again, "Vous etes tellement plus joli quand vous souriez."

"Now you sound like, Beau. I know, I should smile more."

Mrs. Borgia returned, a thin book clasped between her hands. "Here are the recipes."

Lucy took the book and flipped through the pages. All the recipes, and more, that she desired were within. Lucy tucked the booklet into her small bag. "Mother, I thought I might write to Aunt Sarah..."

"Oh, heavens, she'll be so happy to hear from you. She asks about you and the doctor. I am surprised she's not sent you a card or gift yet." Mrs. Borgia sat on the edge of her seat.

"I thought you might visit her soon," Lucy dared to offer.

Mrs. Borgia's face grew startled, "Oh, dear, no. I can't go all that way with your Father ill."

"When Father is no longer ill, then. You will take a holiday. Promise me that you will or I shall not be content on my honeymoon."

"I will give it thought."

"You will do more than that. When I write I will arrange it with her."

"Oh, Lucy, you mustn't impose on her with all her troubles. I would only be a burden."

Lucretia lifted herself straighter in her seat, "Such rubbish, you a burden! Aunt Sarah would welcome your company now that Uncle Frank is gone. If I arrange it with her, you shall go, Mother, and that is the end of it."

"When your Father is well."

"Yes, only after Father is no longer so ill."