Die Once Live Twice (4 page)

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Authors: Lawrence Dorr

BOOK: Die Once Live Twice
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Donovan beamed and slapped his hands down on the table. Pollard came quietly into the room and looked at his master inquiringly. Donovan flicked his hand upward and said, “Fold ‘em. And bring us some coffee. Or would you prefer a brandy, my dear?” They both laughed out loud and Pollard shook his head at such peculiarity as he cleared the table.

Now, as Katherine rode in the carriage with Edward to the Summer Solstice Ball, her mind was in her office. Four years of training by her grandfather in the business of Donovan & Sullivan had given Katherine confidence in her decisions. With the outbreak of the Civil War, the company was busier than ever, and the war had brought many changes. The evening shadows fell across the arsenals and military barracks that now lined Market Street.

Edward was jabbering on about the likelihood of being drafted. “Katherine, if that happens I would look so much forward to exchanging letters with you while I am gone.”

She turned to him and patted his hand. “Of course, Edward. I would want to know you’re safe.”

A caravan of carriages lined the street in front of the hotel whose ballroom hosted the Ball. One by one they unloaded the sons and daughters of Main Line Philadelphia into the celebratory air of the evening. It was still quite light, so men gathered in groups on the walkway, eyeing the women as they walked by. Katherine kept her eyes ahead, but she could not help but notice the handsome face of one young man dressed in an Army officer’s uniform. His head rose above the men around him and his dress was distinctive, but what arrested Katherine’s attention was that he seemed familiar. Edward waved to him and he waved back and then looked strangely at Katherine.

Inside the ballroom the orchestra buoyed the festive mood. As they entered, Katherine and Edward were greeted by Jeffrey Sullivan, the co-owner of Donovan & Sullivan Shipping and Textile Company, and his wife Margaret. Katherine worked daily with Jeffrey and respected him, not only because he was her father’s age but because he was an intelligent and efficient businessman who did not dismiss her because she was a woman.

Margaret, who was wearing the traditional gown with a full crinoline hoop skirt, greeted Katherine and asked, “Who made that style gown for you? It is lovely.”

“Let me tell you a secret,” Katherine replied. “It is really two pieces, a bodice and a skirt.” The two women stepped away conspiratorially to discuss the details of Katherine’s gown.

“I just saw Patrick,” Edward said to Jeffrey Sullivan. “He looks quite dashing in his uniform.” Edward and Jeffrey’s son had been best friends throughout childhood.

“Humph. He should. Damn thing cost enough.”

“Yes, I see.” Edward cleared his throat and stood a bit straighter. “Mr. Sullivan, I have something I would like to discuss with you. You’ve been a great help to me over the years, and now once again I come to you for aid. I’m in my last year of law school at Penn, as you may recall. Soon therefore, I will be seeking employment, but I hope to do so in the business community rather than in a purely legal situation. I believe you know that I—”

Sullivan interrupted him. “Edward, say no more. I would love to have you work with us. You’ll need to speak to Arthur Hampton, our chief counsel. He’ll find you something.”

Before Edward could respond, the conversation was disrupted by Patrick Sullivan, who had a girl on each arm. “Good evening, Father. Edward, my friend, it is such a pleasure to see you. I am sure both of you remember Cathy Holmes, and of course, Ginny Brady.” As the ladies greeted Jeffrey Sullivan, Patrick turned to Edward and whispered in his ear, “Did I see you with the arm of that bothersome twit Katherine Lovington?” When they were children, Katherine and Patrick had fought nearly every time they were in sight of each other.

Edward whispered back, “Lovely, isn’t she? We have been together about a year.”

“My God, man. I’ve missed a great deal up there at West Point.”

Hearing new voices nearby, Katherine looked up from showing Margaret how her bodice was connected to her skirt. “Margaret, is that your son Patrick?”

“Indeed it is. He’s home from West Point. Isn’t he handsome in that uniform? Let me introduce you.” She hesitated a moment, and then said, “I’m sure you’ll find him rather changed from the impetuous boy you knew.”

“I hope so. Certainly the exterior has improved. I didn’t remember that blonde hair and those eyes.”

When he smiled as they shook hands, Katherine smiled back. “Miss Lovington,” he said, not letting go immediately of her hand, “let me be the first to remark upon how much we both have changed. I propose that we start our relationship anew, fresh from this very moment!”

“You are the worst memory of my childhood, too,” Katherine retorted, but her mouth was still smiling. “But I accept your proposal. Please call me Katherine. We all have more serious hostilities to be concerned about.”

“Oh, this terrible war!” Margaret Sullivan exclaimed. “What is the point of it?”

“Terrible is right,” snorted Jeffrey Sullivan. “I’m not sure the government has enough money to pay its bills.”

“I, for one, am ready to do my part,” Patrick said firmly. “The time has come to put things in order. It’s gone on too long. Those Southerners—and we had too many of them at West Point—are always boasting of their military prowess. I am ready to show them that we Northerners are at least equally courageous.”

Katherine gave him a measured look. “I only hope that medical skills have advanced faster than those of gun-making. The Minié ball will make our modern battlefields much more dangerous places than those of the past.” Three pairs of male eyebrows shot up. “The ease of reloading, for one thing,” she explained to Margaret.

Patrick nodded approvingly. “No doubt you’re right. We’ll just have to keep them from shooting at all! Katherine, perhaps we should seal our truce by having one dance together. You know, I suppose we’re business associates. After a fashion.” Patrick shifted his feet.

“That’s up to Edward. I am here with him.”

Edward looked from Katherine to Patrick and back again. “We can trade partners for
one
dance, Patrick. Are you with Cathy or Ginny?”

The two young women giggled and Patrick held up both hands, palm outward. “I came alone, Edward. These two young ladies befriended me in my hour of need. I just got home. Graduated three days ago. My father insisted I come. He said I would see old friends. He was right.”

“Everyone please take note,” Jeffrey Sullivan said.

“It’s good to see you, my friend. We’ll have to catch up later.” Edward clapped Patrick on the back and turned to Katherine. “Shall we? The first dance is being announced.” Katherine took his offered arm, and glanced sideways at Patrick as she walked by him. She felt his eyes surveying her.

“Come, Ginny. I’ll take my first dance at home with you,” Patrick said. Ginny beamed. The two were childhood playmates and she had always loved him. She hooked her arm delightedly around his elbow and grinned at Cathy as she passed her. Cathy stuck out just the tip of her tongue.

While dancing with Ginny, Patrick kept looking for Katherine and Edward. Ginny frowned and moved closer than the arm’s length that was considered proper for young people. She leaned up to his ear, “Patrick, do you remember the game we played hiding in the horse stable that Sunday afternoon after Mass?”

Patrick looked at her, surprised. “I do. Very well.” He laughed. “You showed me yours and I showed you mine.”

Ginny’s mouth trembled slightly as she said, “Well. I think we should play it again. I’m sure we have much more to show now.”

Patrick hesitated, not sure what he was getting into. He had been warned about young ladies who cared only for his money, but he didn’t think that was Ginny’s only goal. “Ginny, we might do that. Do you mean tonight?”

She pulled back a bit. “Well, Patrick, I’d prefer a lifetime.”

“Ginny. Are you proposing to me?” Patrick laughed.

“Maybe.”

“Not until after the war. Besides, Cathy might have a better offer!”

“She can’t fill out her corset,” Ginny sneered.

Patrick was the center of attention most of the night. The men all wanted to know when he would report for battle and where he had been assigned. Women couldn’t resist the glamour of his Army officer’s dress uniform or the lure of his blonde hair and green eyes. They wanted to meet him, but even better, to dance with him. He basked in the attention. During a dance with Cathy, he brushed against his father and mother. “Father, thanks for insisting I come. It’s a good time!”

“Don’t stay out late. You have to be at the office in the morning for work with your father,” his mother said.

“I’m old enough to go to war, but I have to have a bed check with you, Mother?” He laughed.

The ball was nearing its conclusion. The older folks were filing out, and Ginny’s parents insisted on taking her home with them. Katherine and Edward were having a glass of punch when Patrick strode up and asked if he might have that dance. Edward agreed, reluctantly. The music carried Patrick and Katherine to the center of the floor, lit by an ornate chandelier made of hundreds of tiny candles contained in glass tubules. The candles created a sparking spotlight for Patrick and Katherine, her auburn hair shining in their light. Intoxicated by her presence, Patrick could not resist leaning in closer. “You smell so delightful,” he stammered. So many of his dance partners had not bathed for the ball, bathing being reserved for Sundays before church.

“It’s a perfume from Paris. One of my grandfather’s ship captains brought it back with him.”

“I must thank him,” Patrick jabbered. “I haven’t seen you for so long.”

“I’m sure you know I went to boarding school in Boston. When my father died four years ago I moved to Grandfather’s home here.”

“Just when I went to West Point.”

“Since then, Grandfather has kept me very busy. And he has been so good to me.”

Patrick said, “I’m so glad you came tonight,” as he pulled her a bit closer with his hand on her waist.

“When do you go to war?” Katherine asked, pushing him back away.

“I have a month’s leave. The war may be over by then. I expect it is just a skirmish. But if it’s not ... well, if it’s not, we will whip them.”

“I hope you do. This war is disrupting the flow of cotton for the textile mills, which is not good for the company. Our company.”

“In that case, Miss Katherine, I’ll just take my unit and ride into those southern states and bring home our cotton!” His eyes flashed and Katherine could not look away from him.
Those are pretty green eyes,
she thought. “Speaking of riding,” he said, changing the subject, “do you ride at all?”

“Why, certainly, Patrick. I spent summers on the farm and rode out to herd the cows home every day.”

“Would you like to go for a ride tomorrow?”

“No, Patrick.”
She answered too quickly
, he thought. “It is chaotic at the office with this damn war ... Oh—please excuse me!”

Patrick let go of her and laughed with such gusto that half the room turned around and looked. “That was damn rude of you to swear, young lady!” Patrick teased, and both of them burst out laughing.

“Rude or not, I have to help Grandfather.”

Patrick’s passion was rising. He looked into her deep blue eyes and said, “Well, I guess I better come to the office tomorrow and assess our business.”

“Yes, please do.” She smiled as the music played out its last bars. Patrick impulsively leaned down and kissed her lips. Her right hand came off his shoulder and she slapped him crisply across his right cheek. “How dare you be so forward!” She spun away from him and went looking for Edward.

Patrick now stood alone under the chandelier, his left hand feeling his burning cheek. He was stunned—and excited. What kind of a woman would do that to him?

Cathy hurried over to him. “What did you say?” she asked.

“I just stole a kiss,” Patrick said, still rubbing his cheek.

“If you steal one from me I won’t slap you,” Cathy giggled.

Patrick was confused. Every accomplishment he’d been proud of had come with a challenge. Not women, though. Not until now. This Katherine was no Cathy.

Edward led Katherine out of the ballroom to the carriage. “I shouldn’t have let you dance with him. You two always hated each other.” Katherine didn’t answer him. He put his arm around her and tried to pull her close, but she resisted. From the corner of her eyes she saw him leaning in to kiss her. She turned and looked out the carriage window. Strangely, she wished she were riding home with Patrick.

Chapter Four

FOX CHASE

K
atherine woke the next morning with a feeling of dread and embarrassment about her behavior at the dance. She took pride in keeping her composure, especially in public, and now she felt like she made a fool of herself in front of all of Philadelphia. Worse yet, the desire to see Patrick Sullivan again was not dimmed. She lay in bed for an hour, wishing it were yesterday morning. Emma cracked open her door and asked, “Miss Katherine, you all right? You be sick?”

“I’m fine, Emma. Just weary from that ball last night.”

“I bet those boys kept you dancin’ every dance! Your feet must be dog-tired!”

“Something like that, Emma. I must get up. The sun is shining brightly already. Has Grandfather left for the office?”

“Too sore today. He be in bed, too.”

“Send word to the office I won’t be in today. I’ll sit with Grandfather. Is there coffee?”

Emma sniffed. “Course.”

“I’d love some.”

When Emma left, Katherine packed two more pillows behind her head to prop herself up. She really didn’t mind Patrick kissing her. If they had been alone she might have kissed him back. If he’d asked beforehand. Her emotions were in new territory. She’d had a crush on one boy in Boston, but he liked a friend of hers, so she’d never really felt mutual affection. But did she truly feel that for Patrick Sullivan? He had never been nice to her their whole lives until last night. Jeffrey Sullivan had often complained that he was spending too much time with some red-headed girlfriend while he was at West Point. One of her friends saw them pawing each other in a local park during a school holiday.
He probably just wants to have me—nothing but a cad
.

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