The Last Days of Dogtown

Especially given your belief that I was the reason for, that is

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to say, given your assumption about the cause of my wife’s illness.” The Judge was not only stammering but sweating.

“I mean no disrespect to my wife’s memory, I swear.

But, you see, long before you were part of this household, Mrs. Cook accompanied me on many visits to my mother’s home in Maryland. I have a large family there, and Martha was a favorite with my sisters and my cousins.” He took a breath. “With one cousin, in particular. A cousin by marriage: James Ridell.”

Judy prayed for the kitchen maid to call for her, or for lightning to strike the house. Martha had often spoken of James Ridell and of the gracious hospitality he had provided when she and the Judge had stayed in Baltimore. She had referred to him as Captain Ridell and described him warmly as a true gentleman of the South, dashing, intelligent, and kind; a man who had married beneath him in the odious and shrewish Constance, who was the very least of her husband’s otherwise refined relatives.

“Martha and Ridell were thrown together a good deal, as Connie was so often ill in her confinements.” The Judge stared at Judy until she met his gaze. “Do I make myself clear?” he asked. She nodded, miserable.

“I tell you this not to poison your memory of Martha.

She was not at fault here, not really.” His voice dropped again. “You see, I was not much of a husband to her in certain ways. I mean to say, well, that I was not able to . . .

That is, she needed . . .” He stopped, unable to find the words to express his meaning politely. But Judy understood.

“I can see that I have shocked you,” he said. “You must think me a brute to speak of her in this manner, and today of all days.”

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Judy was shocked, though not in the way that the Judge imagined. His words had conjured the vivid sensation of Cornelius’s hand on her breast, his mouth on her neck. He had been the other secret she had kept from Martha. Her physical connection to Cornelius, the longing and the pleasure, had been something for which she barely had words. And yet, it seemed this was something she and Martha had both known and lost.

The Judge handed Judy a glass of sherry. “Please, let me explain why I have spoken about things that should never be discussed, and which I will never mention again.

“Martha always spoke of you as a sister, and I am more than happy to honor the requests she made on your behalf.

You will be remembered in my will, and I will make you a generous gift in parting should you choose to leave.

However, I have another proposal that would have pleased Martha a great deal. One, I believe, that might serve you well given your, again I beg pardon, your circumstances.

Am I correct in assuming that you do not wish to return to your life in, er, up-island?”

Judy winced at Judge Cook’s reticence, as though mentioning Dogtown by name would be an insult. “You are correct.”

“In that case, I would like you to stay on here, to take full charge of the house. It is my intention to winter with my sister, who now resides in Washington. I will return here for the summer and expect that some of my nieces and nephews and their children will join me for the season. But this plan depends, in part, upon placing my home in capable hands. Mistress Rhines, I would certainly understand your wish to leave a place filled with such sad and difficult

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memories; however, if you choose to go, I am doubtful of finding a suitable person, or one in whom I have such great confidence. I have received a reasonable offer for the house and grounds, but my inclination is not to act hurriedly.”

Judy turned her gaze to the view of the harbor from the long parlor windows and nearly wept with relief. Until that moment, she had not permitted herself to face the pinched life that awaited her in a room above a shop or behind a kitchen.

“There will be an income for you, of course,” he continued. “Full charge of the housekeeping monies as well.