A Cry at Midnight by Victoria Chancellor Read Free Book Online

servants looked at each other, then Melody spoke up. "Yes, ma'am. I'll wake you in time to get ready for dinner."
    "Thanks." Randi sank into the bed, feeling smothered by its depths once again. She rolled to her side, then stared out the window. In just a few seconds, she heard the door close as the two women left. Good. She needed to be alone, to think about what had happened and maybe figure out why. Not that she was really good with big picture, high concept ideas. She was more of a detail person.
    The only "detail" she could figure out right now was that her life was in the hands of an angry, skeptical man.
    Outside the wide window, she could see for miles. Green carpeted the land. She suspected that in a few months, there would be white bolls of cotton on each of those plants, and she'd see men and women with long sacks, harvesting the cotton for endless, back-breaking hours.
    Jackson Durant would no doubt be out there, tapping his whip on his thigh, scowling at the workers. She just hoped he didn't decide to abuse anyone in her presence. Randi wasn't about to let that happen, and explaining her actions might be harder than convincing Jackson she was really his daughter's new governess.
    Speak of the devil . . .
    She pushed herself to one elbow, watching him thunder back home on a black horse that seemed to suit his persona exactly.
    If he thought he was going to barge in on her and start another interrogation, he had another think coming. She was too tired for more of his questions and comments.
    With another sigh, Randi rolled over in bed, facing the door. If Jackson Durant did show up, she wanted to know about it.
    #
    When she awoke, the room was dark except for a small candle sitting on a chest near a doorway. Randi felt disoriented for several long moments as she forced herself to breathe evenly, to let her eyes focus on her surroundings. For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, she realized that she'd traveled back in time. That she was actually in Black Willow Grove's plantation house.
    Her fingers brushed against the fine cotton chemise and pantaloons she'd been given earlier. How in the world was she going to dress by herself? Even the servant had struggled with the row of hooks down the back of the dress Randi had worn earlier.
    She'd find a way, though, she vowed as she struggled into the heavy skirts, pulling up the bodice and slipping her arms into the tight sleeves. Clothing from the 1800's was so uncomfortable; how had the women ever accomplished any chores wearing such dresses?
    But then, women who dressed like this didn't do chores. They definitely didn't dust furniture, clean toilets, and vacuum carpets. With a sigh, Randi fastened as many of the hooks as she could, then slipped on the narrow leather shoes that had been provided. The late Mrs. Durant had longer, more narrow feet, making these shoes a poor fit. Randi remembered thinking that all the boots and shoes the museum displayed were equally narrow and usually smaller than her own size seven and a half. With a sigh, she thought of the comfortable tennis shoes she'd hidden in the very top of a cherry armoire, behind decorative carved scrolls. Too bad she couldn't wear her Keds instead.
    As she walked to the door, she vowed that she'd find someone to help her finish dressing, then seek out Mr. Durant. He'd left in a huff earlier today, claiming she couldn't be a friend of the new governess, Agnes Delacey. Randi knew it was up to her to convince him that not only had Agnes sent her as a replacement, but that she'd be the best darn governess in the entire state of Tennessee.
    She pulled the door open a crack, looked both ways down the hall, and started to slip outside. Her foot connected with something lying across the doorway.
    "I'm so sorry! she exclaimed, bending down to help the servant to a sitting position. "I didn't know you were there. Did I hurt you?"
    "No, ma'am," the young woman replied in a shy voice.
    "Why were you lying