Chapter 7: Bargains and Betrayal

Lillian disappeared for several nights. My father and the first wife understood in their hearts, but couldn’t believe their cherished daughter would do something so disgraceful. The Foster mansion was in chaos. My father suppressed the rumors, claiming Lillian had gone traveling, and forbade any mention of elopement. He and the first wife fought bitterly, even coming to blows.

There was shouting behind closed doors—crystal vases shattered, and staff scattered like startled quail. The first wife’s voice cracked as she accused him of raising a wild child. My father’s face grew redder than a Georgia sunset. No one dared enter the parlor until the noise died down.

“If she elopes, she’s nothing but a mistress. So much for your well-raised daughter!”

The words clanged off the dining room walls. Reputations in Savannah are as fragile as fine china.

Meanwhile, my own serious illness was nearly cured. But secrets don’t stay buried; word of Lillian’s pre-marital travels reached the governor’s wife. Furious, she ordered portraits of all the eligible daughters of officials in Savannah, to select a proper, well-bred wife for the governor’s son.

The governor’s wife was a woman who collected secrets like fine china. At her command, every debutante’s photograph was laid out in the drawing room—soft-focus smiles and flawless curls, ready to be scrutinized and discarded.

When I next saw Caleb, he looked pale and exhausted. Hearing there was no news of Lillian, he seemed lost. My father, seeing that I was not among the portraits, realized the governor’s wife was tired of the Foster family and panicked. Staring at my face—so like my mother’s—he suddenly relaxed.

For the first time in weeks, Dad’s shoulders slumped with relief. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and pulled me aside, voice softer than I’d ever heard.

“Beauty is all your mother left you. Make good use of it.”

I dipped my chin, just enough to look obedient. Inside, I was already plotting my next move. My father once again presented me to Caleb. This time, Caleb nodded, tired, and agreed to meet me.

I looked at myself in the mirror—my mother’s eyes, her stubborn chin—and rehearsed the words I’d need to survive whatever came next.