Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Gray Read Free Page B

a model of piety and parental love. I despaired of ever becoming her equal.
    “I could do with something to eat.” Robert set his book on the empty chair next to mine.
    I went into the dining room to see what was available, and he soon followed. As I finished cutting the fruitcake I’d found on the sideboard, I felt his arm slide around my waist. Drawing me close, he said without preamble, “Molly, will you be my wife?”
    My hand trembled so terribly I feared I’d drop the knife. I set it down and turned to face him and was struck anew by his beauty. He was nearly six feet tall, broad shouldered, with a military bearing that made him seem important whenever he entered a room. His hair was thick and dark. His eyes were deep brown and shining with the love that had been slowly growing between us nearly all our lives. I had dreamed of this moment since that magical summer at Kinloch, for I was drawn to him as sunflowers turn toward the sun.
    But I had been told all too often that I was too unrestrained in my speech and too unconventional in my conduct. Also, plain and dull. Although I was not completely without male attention, my mother, when she thought I was out of earshot, confided to my aunts and her friends that she was worried about my matrimonial prospects. “Wherever will we find someone suitable for Mary?” was her constant refrain.
    Now the perfect suitor was standing in my dining room holding a plate of fruitcake, waiting for an answer.
    Yet as deeply as I cared for Robert, I wondered how I could keep faith with the promise I’d made to improve myself while learning to be a wife to an army officer and a mother to the children who were sure to come.
    And I worried about my little scholars, particularly Selina Norris. She was only eight years old, whip smart and eager to learn. Each week she came faithfully to my schoolroom, her stubby fingers clutching her book, her eyes blazing with curiosity and excitement. How could I disappoint such a willing pupil?
    And then there was Papa. While my relieved mother would be delighted to welcome Robert into our family, I worried that my father might not approve the match. Though Robert was from a fine old Virginia family, his father had been involved in scandalous brawls and shady financial schemes, and had gone to debtors’ prison before abandoning his family for good. Everyone in our vast and far-flung clan of aunts, uncles, and cousins knew all about Lighthorse Harry Lee.
    I was the sole heir to Arlington and its treasures from President Washington’s Mount Vernon estate. All of my father’s other holdings—houses, fields, mills, and slaves—would one day pass to my children. Papa would not allow my future and the future of my inheritance to fall into the wrong hands.
    “Well, Molly?” Robert was still waiting, an expectant smile on his face. “Will you have me?”
    Looking into his warm and hopeful eyes on that balmy June afternoon, I knew—despite my worries—what my answer must be. “Yes, Robert. I will.”

3 | S ELINA N ORRIS G RAY
    1831
    I t was freezing cold in the barn, and I leaned upside Lottie as I milked her. Seemed like she enjoyed the warmth her own self. She stood still while I squirted milk into the pail. Ever’ so often she’d look back over her shoulder and blink her eyes like she was asking me how much longer did she have to stand there. I just laughed at her. I had loved Lottie since she was a calf. Milking her twice a day was the chore I liked best. It smelled good inside the barn. Like milk and straw and leather mixed together.
    I finished the milking and patted Lottie’s sides and let myself out. I was careful not to spill the milk. Mister Custis never paid too much attention to us unless we broke one of his rules. One of them was don’t spill anything. Another one was don’t break anything. Don’t steal. Don’t sass the missus. It was a lot to remember even for grown folks, and I wasn’t even nine years old yet.
    I started up