Storm Clouds Rolling In (5 page)

“Maybe not, but your
mama went to great pains to get him here. Seems she and his mama grew up real near each other, up there in Goochland County.”

Carrie listened carefully.
“Borden... Of course,” she murmured. “Anna Borden. I’ve heard Mama talk about her. Not in years, though. When her husband died they seemed to drift apart. I never did know how her husband died. What else do you know?”

“I know you’re going be in a heap of trouble if you don’t get downstairs and be ready to receive your company.
Now get going!”

Carrie nodded and began to move toward the door.
“Wish me luck tonight. I’m going to do my best to not do anything to shock Mama. I don’t think her heart can take another one today.” Laughing merrily, Carrie ran down the steps into the welcoming foyer below.

“Quite the place isn’t it, Manson?”
Robert Borden was immediately taken by Cromwell Plantation. It was so different from his brick plantation home thirty miles up the river. He was entranced by the gleaming white of the three-story house surrounded by columned porches on all sides.

“Yes, sir.
It’s quite a place.” Manson’s voice was noncommittal. Robert didn’t expect more. He was courteous to his slave, but the carriage driver knew he didn’t expect him to carry on a conversation. He just wanted him to do his job. Manson did it well.

Robert Borden was glad to be here.
As far as he knew, Mistress Cromwell had no idea he had finagled his mother into resuming communication with her old friend just so he would receive this invitation. The courteously written note he had received from Abigail Cromwell simply mentioned she would love to welcome the son of an old friend when he was passing through. He had managed to be passing through quite soon. Less than a week after hearing from Abigail Cromwell he had received the invitation from Louisa Blackwell inviting him to the tournament and ball at her plantation. He’d had no mind to accept until he realized the proximity to the Cromwell plantation. It was Thomas Cromwell he wanted to connect with. The growing madness in the country was causing him to seek out those he knew to be of like mind. All the information he had received told him Thomas Cromwell was a sensible, intelligent man who loved the United States.

As they drew closer to the main house, his attention was once more drawn to its beauty.
The mansion seemed to be embraced by the towering oaks surrounding it. The fresh green of the early spring leaves made the gleaming white even brighter, and they offered added softness to the already graceful lines of the old house. Huge boxwoods lined the dirt drive leading to the house, their glistening wetness unmarred by dust because the earlier rain had washed them clean and settled the road. Smatterings of pink and white dogwood, along with brilliant purple lilacs, added their color to the beauty. Thomas took a deep breath and prayed he hadn’t come all this way on a long goose chase.

Carrie arrived, breathless, in the foyer just as the sound of carriage wheels and hoof beats met her ears.
Her mother’s stern look was softened by her father’s equally loving one.

“You look lovely, Carrie.”

Abigail softened. “Your father is right. I can’t believe there has been such a transformation from the wild child I saw just minutes ago.”

Carrie grinned, relieved her mother was willing to put her anger behind her, even if it was just because their company was almost there.
“You know Rose works magic.”

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the house.
Together, the three moved out onto the porch to meet their guest. The rain had stopped and the sun was beginning to peek through. Carrie looked around in delight. She couldn’t help wishing she could head out on Granite again. The world was always so incredibly beautiful after a storm. She glanced up, but quickly lowered her head so her mother couldn’t accuse her of being inattentive of their guest. She had just needed to assure herself that the sky was the same brilliant blue it always was after a spring storm.

“Robert Borden!
What a pleasure to have you at Cromwell Plantation. Welcome.” Abigail moved forward graciously to greet him. “Please meet my husband, Thomas Cromwell. We’re thrilled you could join us tonight,” she said warmly.

Carrie lowered her eyes in time to catch Robert staring at her.
Flushing, she smiled slightly and dropped her eyes just as Robert tore his own gaze away from her.

Bowing low over Abigail’s hand, Robert spoke smoothly.
“It’s
my
pleasure indeed, Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell. It was so kind of you to offer me your hospitality while I make my way to Charleston.”

Carrie’s father looked at him more carefully.
“You’re on your way to Charleston, Robert?”

Robert nodded.
“Yes, sir. The Democratic Convention is there in just nine days. When I’m not working my plantation, my interest is in politics. I want to be as close to the action of what is happening in our country as possible.”

Thomas nodded, studying him thoughtfully.
“How old are you, son?”

“Twenty-one, Mr. Cromwell.”

Abigail laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “You can have this conversation inside,” she said graciously. “I’m sure Robert would like to get cleaned up and I imagine he’s famished after traveling all day.

Robert laughed.
“You’re right, ma’am. Dinner sounds very inviting. It won’t take me but a moment to freshen up.”

Abigail nodded.
“Before I have you shown to your room, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Carrie.”

Robert turned eagerly.
“How do you do, Miss Cromwell? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Carrie pulled her thoughts back from galloping Granite through the wet fields.
Smiling, she extended her hand as he bowed over it. “Thank you, Mr. Borden. It’s a pleasure to have you at Cromwell Plantation.” She almost laughed at his bemused expression.

Robert turned to follow Abigail into the house.

Carrie watched them go and then reached for her father’s arm, detaining him on the porch. Both stood silently while Abigail led their visitor into the hallway. They heard her clear voice giving directions to Sam, the butler, to take Robert upstairs. Shortly after, they heard her footsteps retiring to the kitchen to check on last minute preparations for dinner.

Carrie smiled up at her father.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I never meant to be caught in the storm. I lost track of time. I’m truly sorry I upset mother.”

Thomas smiled down at her fondly.
“Your mother can’t help being the way she is, Carrie.”

“And I can’t help being the way I am”, Carrie said quietly, yet firmly.

Thomas looked at her thoughtfully. “You went to your place today.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.
It was such a beautiful day. I had to get away.” Carrie gazed at her father beseechingly. “I know I haven’t tried very hard to be what mother wants me to be, but I can’t. I’ve thought about trying to change, about being different.” Her level voice took on a strained tone. “But I can’t. I have to be me. I’m sorry it makes her so unhappy.”

Thomas wrapped an arm around his daughter’s shoulder.
“Don’t ever be sorry for who you are, Carrie. Your mother will be fine. It will take time though. Don’t be too hard on her. The situation in the country is scaring her. She is afraid of losing all she has ever known. I’m afraid she takes it as an insult that her only daughter doesn’t share her deep feelings about plantation life.”

Carrie wheeled to look up into his eyes.
“You know I love the plantation, Father. I just can’t get excited about having my whole life revolve around running it.”

Thomas nodded again, took her arm, and began to walk toward the front doors.
“I know, Carrie. But right now we have company to entertain. I believe I heard the young fellow’s footsteps on the stairway. We need to go in. We can talk more later if you would like.” Then he smiled impishly. “I think, though, that there is a young man who will be very disappointed if he doesn’t get to spend as much time as possible with one Carrie Cromwell.” He put his hand on the doorknob and stopped to gaze down into her eyes. “It will take a special man to win your heart, Carrie. Someone who can love your free spirit and fiery independence.” His sober tone caused Carrie to stare at him, but he continued with a gentle smile. “You will steal and break the hearts of many young men. Take compassion on them,” he said softly. Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and walked in.

Carrie had no time to respond, for as they entered the house Robert Borden appeared around the corner of the foyer.

“What a wonderful home, Mr. Cromwell! It’s every bit as beautiful inside as it is outside.” Robert’s voice was sincerely enthusiastic.

“Thank you, Robert.
This house is very special to my family. It dates back to the 1700s. My family were some of the first people to settle Virginia.”

“You must be very proud of them, sir.”

“I am. They have left me a legacy I sometimes struggle to live up to. Most importantly, they helped give me a country I am proud to be a part of.”

Robert nodded eagerly.
“I had heard you felt that way, sir. That’s one reason I’m here. Do you think the Union will stand, sir?”

Thomas managed a dry laugh.
“You certainly know how to get right to the point, young man.”

Robert merely nodded.
“The time for idle chatter seems to be long gone. I know there are still many in Virginia who long to see the Union stand firm, but I’m afraid we’re becoming a minority in the South.”

Thomas nodded but inclined his head toward the dining room.
“Why don’t we have this discussion at dinner, Robert? I know you’re hungry.”

Robert looked discomfited.
“Will we not bore the women with talk of politics, sir? I don’t wish to appear rude. We can talk after dinner if you wish.”

Thomas smiled.
“My wife has learned to accept my passion for politics lately. My daughter seems to thrive on it.” With those words, he led the way into the dining room.

Carrie managed to stifle her laugh as she followed them. She loved the huge dining room with its mahogany table that would comfortably seat fourteen.
When needed, there were panels to extend its length for special occasions. An impressive sideboard, two smaller tables, and old mahogany chairs in abundant supply lined the walls—with the exception of the wall that was mainly arched windows looking out over the horse pastures in the distance.

The next hour flew by as course after course of delicious Virginia victuals were placed before them.
Servants standing by with peacock feathers made sure the first of the spring flies didn’t land on the piles of sumptuous food laid before them. Conversation while they ate remained general and light, ranging from the weather, to horses, to planting conditions.

Finally, Thomas leaned back in his chair, lit the pipe handed to him by one of the table servants, and nodded toward his young visitor.
“You asked me a very important question before dinner. It’s one I hope with all my heart I have the right answer for. You asked me if I think the Union will stand. Robert, the Union
must
stand. I fear the consequences if the secessionists have their way.”