The Dowry Read online

  “So again, this piece of wallpaper…” came out before she again screamed in pain while grabbing the other cheek this time.

  “Let’s paint in here,” Robert stated as he looked around at the painting on the wall behind him.

  For once, he swore he could see Charlotte smiling. He found the possibility both absurd and a little unsettling. As a practical man, he could feel his rock-solid convictions beginning to crack at the edges.

  Chapter 10

  Jacksonville, 1860

  Charlotte was delighted to act as her little sister’s maid of honor. Unlike her marriage to Jefferson, Christina had been able to choose her husband, and she was madly in love with him. While Charlotte had offered Foxworth House for the ceremony, Christina had opted for a church wedding in town. Newly enlarged in 1858, the First Methodist Church on Duval Street was selected for the ceremony as the Baines were longtime members of the church congregation.

  Her intended, Walter Baines, came from a wealthy family that traded heavily with the North. His father was another business associate of Charlotte’s father and the two men had conspired to set the young couple up in Boston, Massachusetts as their agents there.

  Charlotte secretly suspected that the older men feared a coming war and that the North would be safer for the pair. While most of the young men loudly proclaimed for secession, declaring it good for the South, the wiser family heads quietly prepared for the worst. Unfortunately for Charlotte, Jefferson was aligned with the former, not the latter.

  “I can’t believe I am leaving you and father behind,” Christina said, doing her best to hold back the tears.

  “We will come see you soon,” Charlotte replied, shooting a warning look to Jefferson not to contradict her.

  “You promise?” Christina replied as she embraced her sister first and then her father before joining her new husband on the boarding ramp.

  The group was standing on the docks as the ship that was to take the newlyweds north was preparing to board passengers. Waving as they boarded, Charlotte watched the young couple disappearing into the crowd of passengers as they made their way forward. Charlotte knew her sister would want to watch near the bow as the ship made its way out to sea.

  “You shouldn’t have promised to go north,” Jefferson finally commented.

  “Do you think I would let something as trivial as a war stop me from seeing my sister?” Charlotte replied defiantly before turning and leading the admonished Jefferson away from the ship and over to their own ride home.

  “Things between the North and the South could escalate quickly and go badly for some time is all I am saying.”

  “I do not wish to discuss this any further,” she replied as he helped her into the boat.

  As they rode silently in the small boat her father had provided them for their return trip, Charlotte considered the man by her side. At times recently, he had become more sensitive to her needs, working to learn her interests.

  He had also presented her with a gift of books, texts from his college days. Volumes on business, economics and even law had been presented with a desire to see her expand her learning. She had accepted them with joy, devouring their contents at every opportunity.

  Then there were his comments on the docks today, his concern in sharp contrast to the political turmoil that seemed to simmer just below the surface of his being. Charlotte’s disinterest in politics was offset by Jefferson’s enthusiasm for the subject, his heated exchanges with others on the topic were uncomfortable for her. She feared it would be the death of him.

  Arriving home just before dusk, Charlotte went straight up to her tower room, lighting the lamp in the study before ascending the hidden staircase. This was where she retreated when she wanted to be alone, a place of solitude that Jefferson had so far respected. Frequently she would close the hidden door behind her as she entered the stairwell, a clear sign she desired no company.

  She recalled a recent event as she climbed the stairs, one following a heated exchange between herself and her new husband.

  “Why are you constantly retreating to that spartan loft above the study?” Jefferson had asked as he followed her up from the foyer and into the study.

  “It is where I run my business from,” she snapped in reply, the ledger in her hand containing the day’s transactions.

  “You do realize it is completely unnecessary. I can provide for us nicely from the family’s transatlantic business,” he responded in a fashion she found condescending.

  “This is a family business too,” she said as she waved her ledger under his nose.

  “Yes, but it’s really just supplementary….”

  “Supplementary! Supplementary! It built the house you live in and purchased the land it sits on. We are highly respected and my father’s name holds value up and down this river,” she blurted, unable to contain her anger.

  “That is not what I intended…” he began once more before she cut him off.

  “I suggest you leave me to my supplementary business and stay out of my office,” she had said sternly before slamming the door behind her. He had dared not follow.

  Seating herself at the desk in the tower, she set the lamp in one corner. Pulling a ledger from the bookshelf, she began going over the journaled transactions from the last few days. Their disagreement slowly faded from her memory as she ran the numbers, but it reaffirmed her conviction that no one need attempt a climb of those stairs but people she deemed worthy.

  Foxworth House, Present Day

  The events in the parlor had left Sandra a little shaken, but Robert had to give the woman credit as she pushed on. He, himself, had no explanation for the incident, but as an observer and not a victim, he admired her dogged determination to complete her work. In a way it made her more attractive to him, as he respected her commitment.

  Working down the list of rooms, they did settle on a more subdued wallpaper pattern for both the living and dining rooms. With each, Sandra hesitantly offered up suggestions for both with no more painful experiences for the effort. Robert had to suppress a laugh at her obvious relief when no repeat of the parlor experience occurred.

  By the time they were finished, they had made decor selections for every room in the house. Sandra was extremely impressed with what Robert had planned for the kitchen, giving it both the original look from the 1800s, while providing the modern conveniences of gas/electric ranges and refrigerators. She jokingly proposed he work with her on all her kitchen designs.

  Before she left, she had a list of things to order in one hand, and a reminder for a dinner date for the following evening in the other. Robert not only felt bad about the stabbing incident in the parlor, but he also found her quite attractive. Her easy acceptance of the unexplained events impressed him.

  Returning to the parlor, he couldn’t help but glare at the portrait on the wall. Still unable to explain the event, he wasn’t prepared to go all in just yet and declare a haunting. Turning from the woman on the wall, he returned to work, putting the incident from his mind for now.

  It wasn’t long after Sandra left that Robert saw RD driving up to the house. Stepping out onto the front porch as the work inside had grown quite noisy, he watched the man exit his truck and climb the steps.

  “What’s the deal with Sandra? You were pinching her ass?” RD said in good humor.

  “She called you about that?”

  “She needed to let me know what paint to order and happened to mention your date tomorrow night,” RD said in a knowing tone.

  “That was all she said?” he asked, positive it wasn’t.

  “She did mention the weirdness in the parlor. What was that all about?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea. She kept trying to talk about wallpaper, then she would scream and complain about a sharp pain in her butt cheek.”

  “Did you see anything?” RD asked, curious at the description Robert gave of the incident.

  “Well, unless I had her drop her skirt, I wasn’t going to see much,�
� Robert replied with a smile.

  “Maybe tomorrow night then,” RD said with a grin.

  With the topic dropped at that point, the two men walked back inside together to check up on the progress the work crew was making.

  ----*----

  Robert had left his house worksite a little early that day as he had received word that his truck had finally arrived. He found it parked in the parking lot of his rented apartment, keys supposedly locked inside. Pulling up in an open spot next to it, he let Hunter out behind him and walked over to check it out. Moving the paperwork he was carrying from one hand to the other, he tried the door handle and found it locked, as it should be.

  The F250 crew cab was both functional and luxurious in the trim he had selected. With its 4x4 running gear and 6.7 liter turbo diesel engine, it was the perfect vehicle for any construction site. Its fine leather interior had all the bells and whistles one would find in your typical high end luxury car. He called it his Redneck Limousine; Heather had hated the name.

  Punching in the door code, he opened the driver side door and retrieved his keys from the center console storage compartment. Surveying the interior, he was satisfied to see all as it should be before locking the door and heading inside.

  Letting Hunter in before him, he took the paperwork he was carrying to the kitchen table and set it next to the other piles of work he had lined up. With that done, he then turned and headed into the kitchen, where he whipped up an early dinner for himself and Hunter, the latter disappointed that it was not the same meal.

  It was quite common for Robert to work while he ate, so having all his to do paperwork handy on the table was convenient. Sitting down with his plate after giving Hunter his bowl nearby, he began reviewing the day’s activities. As he came across his notes from the work with Sandra, his mind began to wander.

  The experience with her in the parlor was certainly not the first unexplained event in the house. The mysterious appearance of the trunk key and the wiring pulled from its improper installation all left unanswered questions in his mind.

  Certainly, it was easy to pass it off as a ghost, but he just wasn’t that kind of person. He tried to rationalize the events into a single plausible explanation as he continued to work. Suddenly he stopped as he read a work order he had received from RD earlier.

  The paper he held was from the gate company they had contracted to rework the automatic gate opener, upgrading it to a keypad and sensor system. Robert read the notes several times before setting the paper down. It was the technician’s note in the comments section of the work order that had him questioning his explanations.

  “Current manual opening gate will require a completely new installation to convert to an automatic opening system.”

  That removed any doubt about the gates moving on their own. Robert was beginning to agree with RD that someone was haunting his new home.

  ----*----

  Robert had to spend all of the following day in town as he moved between the two renovation jobs he had going. He was happy to have his truck back, having turned the Jeep in that morning. Hunter had been less than pleased, however, to learn that he was to stay home. The bark and howl he received as he left, ensured Robert was aware of his displeasure.

  Bouncing between the two jobsites as well as a meeting with the city had him preoccupied all day long. With his mind on other things, he had not given any more thought to the odd occurrences at Foxworth House.

  That changed however, as he walked into the restaurant and saw Sandra waiting at the bar. His mind quickly went to the memory of examining her shapely rear-end after the unexpected outbursts in the parlor.

  “Sorry, am I late? Have you been waiting long?” he asked as he crossed over to where she was seated.

  “No, I’m early. I had a cancelation so came directly from my last appointment,” she replied with a dazzling smile.

  Giving her a subtle once-over, he doubted very much that she was meeting a client in the outfit she had on. Never one for the clubbing scene himself, he still would have classified her attire as club wear; sexy and anything but subtle.

  A long black halter dress, topped with a thin collar holding it in place, he noted a high cut slit on the side of her leg. The halter design provided a low drooping dip in the back, the opening stopping just above her butt. He had to give credit to whomever had picked this dress out for her; she was stunning in it.

  “Let me get us a table,” he said as he waved to the hostess.

  “I hope you like this place, it’s one of my favorites,” she commented as they followed the hostess to their seats.

  Sandra had been the one to suggest the restaurant, it being one of the nicer places in town. From the look of the other patrons, Robert suspected it was also popular with dating couples as almost everyone there were in twos, with the occasional four top.

  His hand resting lightly at the small of her back, Robert assisted Sandra into her seat before taking his own. The touch of her skin excited him as he seated himself and then, once seated, ordered a drink from the nearby waitress.

  “So, how’s your bottom?” he asked, enjoying her slight blush.

  “Much better, thank you. Wasn’t that the strangest thing?”

  “I looked for the cause but didn’t find any sharp wires or insects. Did you find anything that looked like a sting or a bite when you got home?” he asked in earnest.

  “It was hard for me to look too closely back there, but I didn’t find anything obvious. Perhaps I should have it looked at by someone else?” she replied, the insinuation clear to Robert.

  “That might be best, you can never take anything like that lightly,” he responded with a broad smile.

  And so, they progressed through dinner, performing the dating dance that Robert detested, but understood it to be a necessary evil. On the positive side, he found Sandra to be intelligent, witty and interesting. Unlike his ex-wife, Heather, he felt he could connect with Sandra at a deeper level as their professional lives were so tightly interconnected.

  As they discussed Robert’s house, he could see her genuine interest in the property and its history. He was quite impressed at her recollections of the smallest of details of the house. Her enthusiasm over not just the project, but life itself was refreshing.

  By the time he paid the bill, it had been decided that he would follow her home so he could check her out, over concerns around her good health, of course.

  ----*----

  “Come in,” Sandra offered as Robert followed her into the front door of her house.

  “Wow, this is very nice,” Robert commented as the two passed the double doors and entered the foyer.

  “Thanks, it was my parents’ house. They bought it from the original owner in the 50’s and I got it when they retired and moved to Arizona,” she explained as she led him deeper into the house after slipping off her shoes.

  “Early 1930’s?” Robert asked as he looked about, guessing at the age of the home.

  “Very good, 1932 to be precise. Can I get you anything?” Sandra replied before offering a drink.

  Robert had followed Sandra home from the restaurant, which was conveniently located just a few blocks from her house. She had explained at dinner that the restaurant was in San Marco, an older part of Jacksonville, the area going through a trendy resurgence as younger couples bought into the area and renovated.

  “I probably shouldn’t or I won’t be able to drive home,” he commented as she raised a bottle of white wine.

  “Wine it is then,” she replied with a wicked smile on her face.

  Not bothering to protest, Robert began wandering the room as he waited for Sandra to pour for the two of them. He noted the home was exceptionally well kept and in good repair.

  “When was it renovated?” he asked as she appeared at his side, one hand extended with his drink.

  “How can you tell?” she asked, a tinge of concern in the tone.

  “Oh, don’t worry, it was a very good job. It’s jus
t I can see where I would expect to find wear and tear, but there is none,” he replied as an explanation.

  “Trained eye of an architect,” she said lightly, the relief apparent as she extended her glass as if to toast.

  “More like the experience of someone who has had to fix the ravages of time,” he replied as he mimicked the motion.

  “Interesting word, ravages,” Sandra said without looking at him as she led Robert out into the back patio.

  Stepping out into a partially covered patio, Robert noted a pool out beyond a series of planters that acted as a border between the secluded sitting area and the open space beyond. The soft lighting of the indirect fixtures left a glow, providing just enough light to illuminate the space. The abundance of plants and the warm night air gave the impression of a tropical getaway.

  “Please,” Sandra offered as she motioned for Robert to sit in a padded outdoor couch just big enough for the pair.

  Taking the offered seat, he watched in fascination as she maneuvered the slit of her dress to allow her to tuck her legs under her while turned to face her guest. The action had also permitted a considerable amount of skin to be put on display without removing all modesty. It also had them touching, her leg pressed up against his. He made no effort to change the circumstance.

  “I would love to do something like this at my place, a romantic little getaway with a pool, and possibly a spa,” Robert explained, motioning to the body of water beyond the plant barrier.

  “I love the water, I guess you could say I am a water baby. I’m in the pool all the time when I’m home. Thankfully the yard is positioned to allow me the privacy to swim Au Naturel,” she added before sipping her wine.

  By now Robert had both gotten the not so subtle hints that she had been dropping as well as consumed just enough wine to throw caution to the wind.

  “Good thing I didn’t bring my swimsuit, then,” he replied as he leaned forward to offer a kiss.