different working on the same piece.
Though the war had been wagging on for four years now: she had heard rumors that it might be ending soon. The thought of him coming home soon made her shiver. Standing on the veranda Clymen pulled her thinning shawl closer about her upper body, the air seem to be chiller today then was normal for the low country this time a year. Though it was the holiday season, she didn’t feel very festive lately especially now that people could see she was with child. The peace that Clymen had once found in the beauty of the grounds and gardens of her husband’s family plantation was gone, Thanks to the union army. Winter in the low country was still green and had its own beauty about it; it wasn’t dead like in the north. However, this year the beauty wasn’t there. The ground showed signs that an army had camped on it, the gardens were trampled and burns from campfires were all over. Being confined to the run down and dingy plantation house with her husband’s elderly mother and his spoiled daughter added to her non-holiday mood. The crackly voice of Langdon’s mother calling her broke through her thoughts, hanging her head she knew that today things were not going to go well again.
Inhaling deeply she let the cool crisp air fill her lungs before she headed back inside, turning she took the few steps back into the bedroom determined to face whatever her nightmare of a life had in store for her today. Moving through the dimly lit room that she shared with her husband who was 20 years her senior, and down the hall to the spiral staircase. Stepping onto the top step the voices that drifted up from the main floor told her that there was more than just the three of them in the house. Gripping the pine covered railing as she waited to who was in the house, worried that it was more union soldiers. Stealing her nerves and pushing the fear she felt of the soldiers, and that Langdon might be home away Clymen started down the stairs.
Setting his daughter down Langdon smiled, the house had a festive feel to him in it, even though it didn’t look like it did when he was growing up or had married his first wife. “House looks good ma. Where is Clymen?” Not missing the look of hatred on his mothers face, “now Ma you know Lucile needed a mother, and you needed someone to help you run this house especially now that the war took all our slaves. The least you could do it be nice to her.” He moved out into the entryway.
As she reached the bottomed of the stairs, she saw him come out of the parlor. Placing a smile on her face, she tried to act like a wife who was happy that he was home safe to cover her fear of how he would react to the baby.