— Hans Christian Andersen, “The Snow Queen” (1844)
While Sophie blossomed under Tessa’s nurturing—“She isn’t like the stepmothers in stories at all!”—David remained somber and withdrawn. Tessa confided to Joseph: “I know he has nightmares. But when I try to comfort him, he denies it.”
Another day, Tessa said: “You know I’m a reader myself—normally I would applaud it. But reading is all David does! He actually asks Father Magrath for more schoolwork. I haven’t seen David playing even once. I tried to choose toys a ten-year-old boy would enjoy. I asked the children if they’d like a pet. David refused. The only reason he’d give was a mumble. Do you know what he said? ‘I’d probably kill it’!”
Tessa did give Sophie a kitten, whose coat pattern made him look like he was wearing a tiny black suit.Sophie named him Mignon. When Joseph came to meet the little creature, David was in his room reading again.
While Sophie was absorbed with her furry playmate, Tessa whispered to Joseph: “What worries me most is the way the children behave toward each other. I know they were very young when I last saw them together, but I remember David being so protective and indulgent with Sophie, and her adoring him. Now, they actually leave rooms to avoid each other. I don’t understand it.”
“Perhaps they remind one another of their grief,” Joseph suggested. “Or they’re simply growing into a young woman and a young man.”
The children had been in Charlestonless than a month when one of the Stratford slaves came to fetch Joseph from the Bishop’s residence late in the evening. Master David had hurt himself, the messenger explained. Joseph’s father was attending a birth outside the city, so one of his doctor friends had seen to the boy.
Joseph found Tessa pacing the lower hall, clearly distraught. First, she apologized for calling him there. “I know you say the early Mass. But David won’t talk to me! He won’t tell me why he did it! He wouldn’t say a word to the doctor, and Edward is still at his club. I thought maybe David would talk to you: you’re a Priest, and his family…”
“Tessa.” Joseph caught her by the shoulders so she stopped pacing. “It’s all right. I’m glad you called me. David won’t tell you why he didwhat?”
Tessa stared down at her palms, cradling her handkerchief. “I heard Sophie screaming, so I ran upstairs. I found Davidattackingthe mirror on his dressing table. He’d struck the glass with his hairbrush—it has a strong silver back. I pried that away from him, but he started pounding the larger shards with his palm. He sliced his hand open, and I had to drag him out of the room to make him stop.”
Joseph swallowed. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not intentionally. But he terrified me. He terrified Sophie too.”Tessa began to sob. “I looked after so many nieces and nephews in Ireland. I thought I could do this. I thought…”
Every instinct in Joseph’s body shouted at him to embrace her. He might have justified it in daylight, but Tessa was wearing a dressing gown. He settled on caressing her upper arms through their patterned wool sleeves. “I’m here. It will be all right. This isn’t aboutyou.”
She stepped back as if he’d slapped her. “You’re right: I called you here for David, not me.”
Joseph grasped her shoulders again. “I meant: This is not your fault, Tessa.”
She nodded, but he didn’t think she believed him.
Joseph followed her eyes to the stairs. Light trickled down to them from the third floor. “Was David crying, or angry?”
“Both.”
“Did he give youanyexplanation?”
“Yes, but it made no sense. All he said was: ‘I didn’t like what I saw!’ I told him he was a handsome little boy! Why would he say such a thing?”
Joseph climbed the stairs slowly. As soon as he reached the third-floor hall, Sophie darted from her room and threw her arms around him.
Mindful of the oil in his lamp, Joseph placed a hand on her head. “I’ll make things better,ma petite—I promise.”
When his niece pulled back, she stared up at him with such a haunted expression, her mouth trembling, as if she longed to say something but feared to.
Joseph frowned. “Sophie? What?—”
Before he could finish, she ran back into her chamber, snatching up Mignon.
Joseph moved to follow her. Then he saw the slave standing silently in his nephew’s doorway. The man must be there to ensure David did no further harm to himself. Sophie would have to wait.
In the light of a fire and another lamp, the boy sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over his bandaged hand. He wore a night-shirt with a dark blue dressing gown fastened over it. David did not raisehis eyes at Joseph’s approach; he only stared at the floor beneath his dangling feet.
The rug was missing, the floorboards swept clean of shattered glass. Atop David’s marble-topped bureau, the oval frame of his dressing mirror sat strangely empty. Where there should have been a reflection, there was only blue wallpaper.
Joseph set down his lamp and glanced to the slave standing at attention. “Would you leave us, please?”
The negro obeyed.
