Read Online Jefferson's Sons by Kimberly Bradley - Free Book Online Page B

new dependencies. That was what he called them. What he meant, Beverly learned, was more construction—not on the great house this time, but all along Mulberry Row.
    Right now the little brick guesthouse with the kitchen in its basement was a long way from the great house, so food was always cold by the time it reached the dining room. Master Jefferson wanted the kitchen closer to the house. He wanted the kitchen to be bigger too, and he needed more stabling for guests’ horses. But what really bothered him was that anyone standing on the back porch of the great house got a clear view down Mulberry Row, of the double row of cabins, the stables, blacksmith and woodshops, smokehouses and garden sheds. Master Jefferson was tired of looking at all that.
    He decided to dig out part of the great house lawn, and put a row of buildings—the dependencies—halfway underground, disguised by fancy walkways covering their roofs. He would hide a new kitchen, a smokehouse, and some rooms to live in—including one for Beverly’s family—on one side of the lawn, and a new stable, icehouse, and laundry on the other. Then he could tear down the part of Mulberry Row that was most visible from the great house.
    â€œHe wants to hide us?” Beverly asked. He felt grumpy. Papa had been home two days, and Beverly hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him.
    Mama sighed. “It’s nothing to do with us,” she said. “It’s to make the mountaintop more beautiful.”
    â€œOur house isn’t ugly,” argued Beverly.
    Mama gave him an eye. “A log cabin or the great house,” she said. “Which one would you rather look at?” She picked up a piece of her sewing.
    He could just make the cabins look better, Beverly thought. He wandered outside, still grumpy, and found Uncle John standing near the garden shed, sharpening a hoe.
    â€œWhat’re you doing?” Beverly asked. Burwell’s brother Wormley was in charge of the gardens, not Uncle John.
    â€œWormley’s covered up,” said Uncle John. “Didn’t you see that wagonload of trees Davy Hern brought? Master Jefferson wants new flower beds laid out this morning, and since Wormley’s setting the trees, I told him I’d dig the beds.” Uncle John straightened and smiled at Beverly. “Master Jefferson’s coming out to show me where to put them. Want to help?”
    Beverly’s grumpiness evaporated in an instant. “Sure,” he said. He grabbed a spade and followed Uncle John.
    Master Jefferson was waiting for them at the front of the great house. Beverly saw him and started to smile, but the smile froze on his face. His grumpiness came flooding back. One of Miss Martha’s girls stood beside Master Jefferson, holding his hand. She was all decked out in big ribbons and a crisp white dress and shoes, and she swung Master Jefferson’s hand and beamed at him. “I love flowers!” she said in a happy, chirpy voice Beverly instantly despised. “I can’t wait to see them bloom!”
    Master Jefferson smiled down at her. He didn’t even glance at Beverly.
    Beverly dropped his eyes. He didn’t know the girl’s name—all Miss Martha’s girls looked alike to him—but he hated her just the same.
    Master Jefferson and the girl laid string on the ground to mark the space for two big oval beds. Beverly and Uncle John cut out the edges of the ovals with their spades, then stripped the sod inside the ovals while Master Jefferson and the girl stood and watched. The girl chattered constantly. Beverly thought her voice sounded like a horsefly buzzing.
    It was hot work for a warm morning. Sweat ran down his back until his shirt stuck to him. He wished the girl would go away. If Harriet were here, little as she was, she would grab a spade and help. She wouldn’t just stand and giggle. He stomped hard on the edge of his spade. It hurt his foot.
    Uncle John