Hearts Under Siege (Civil War Collection) (19 page)

“When did she hear of her fiancé?”

“Only this morning. The letter came to our home. It’s perplexing, really, why they didn’t send it to his mother. Someone in the unit must have known of their engagement. In fact,” he said, frowning, “his mother is here tonight. She obviously doesn’t know.”

“Oh dear. Don’t you think you should tell her?”

“Yes, my God, I didn’t even realize.” He set his glass on the table and focused back on Alexandra. “You will excuse me, won’t you?”

“Of course. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Yes, you can help me find his mother.”

“Eli,” she said, placing her gloved hand on his arm. “Who is he?”

Eli carelessly scanned the room. “I don’t see her.”

“What is his name so that I can help you?”

“Thomas Munroe.”

****

“You have to think. She would have been dressed like a boy—a boy too young to even be in the army.”

Ernest Dumon tried to be patient. Damn it. He had sent her into this danger, and now he had to help her.

“I’m sorry, sir. I see too many boys who shouldn’t be in this army.” The officer twirled his moustache as he looked over his spectacles toward the tent flap.

“Then you’ve got to tell me where Pemberton is.” Ernest grabbed the man’s sleeve.

“I can’t do that, sir. It’s classified.”

“Yes, Yes. So you said. But this is an emergency.”

“Sorry, sir. I’m afraid Pemberton wouldn’t see it that way.”

“Of course not. At least tell me when he’ll be getting back.”

The private studied him. He sighed. “He’ll return the day after tomorrow.”

Ernest groaned inwardly. Two more days. Well, it couldn’t be helped. At least he hadn’t said tw
o
week
s
. “Please,” he said, handing the officer a note. “Give him this as soon as he gets back. It’s urgent.”

“Of course,” the soldier answered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more.”

Ernest turned and started toward the door, his shoulders drooping. He would find a room in war-ravaged Vicksburg and wait. As his hand touched the doorknob, the soldier called his name.

“Mr. Dumon?”

Ernest looked back at the young man and cringed.

“Sir,” the soldier said. “If you happen to be on the road to Memphis, you might intercept Pemberton’s return.”

Ernest blinked then smiled. At times, everything had its advantages. Even being an old man.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Heavens, is she all right?” The voices sounded muffled—far away.

Alexandra squinted, fighting the urge to return to the darkness.

“Just passed out in the middle of the floor.”

“I’ll wager she had over-imbibed.”

“I’ll see that she gets home.”

“You’ve had too much to drink yourself.”

Alexandra opened her eyes. Eli loomed over her. She opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue didn’t cooperate.

“Alexandra, can you hear me?” Eli backed off and scowled at the group of people crowding them. “I need you to back away.” He swung his arms wide. “She can’t get any air. Alexandra?” He removed his coat and placed it beneath her head, then patted her cheek.

Alexandra opened her eyes; her cheeks heated. “Where is Katherine?” A sea of faces swam over her.

“Thank goodness you’re awake. How do you feel? Do you remember what happened?”

Vaguely
.
The blackness returned, blurring the faces around her.

Eli patted her cheek again. “Stay with me,” he said.

Alexandra groaned. She didn’t want to remember. Thomas engaged? No. He had never mentioned it. He had made love to her—well, almost, and asked her to wait for him. He loved her. He couldn’t be engaged to…some…Gabrielle person.

“I’m much better now,” she said, struggling into a sitting position. Eli supported her back with his hands.

“Please, I’m fine,” she said to the crowd of people watching her every move.

They drifted away, muttering in hushed voices. Eli reached down and picked her up, carrying her to an empty side of the room, and placed her in a chair.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I just felt faint,” she said.

“No more wine for you,” he said. “Wait right here, and I’ll get you a glass of water.” He strode toward the refreshment table.

Alexandra closed her eyes and tried to still the chaos in her mind.

She had to find Katherine. If it were true about Thomas being engaged, why didn’t she say something about it? It made no sense.

She looked over. Eli stood next to two robust matrons. A lady with three chins and hair piled high atop her head chatted away to her companions. She paused, and all three turned and looked at Alexandra. She blinked at them. They turned back and huddled together as the lady continued to speak. Eli glanced back at Alexandra and frowned.

Alexandra shrugged it off and scanned the room for Katherine. After Elibrought her the water, she would get up and go search for Katherine
.
Why hadn’t Katherine said something before leaving?

Panic tightened her stomach. She gasped for breath and brought her hands to her pounding head.

Eli returned. “Here’s your water,” he said. She took the glass from him and emptied it in one gulp. Eli studied her with a crinkled brow.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head then said, “Yes, it could be.”

“Well, what is it?” Alexandra snapped. She had things to do.

“Are you ill?”

No…Not since Thomas…

An image of him tending her flashed on the heels of their lovemaking, and the image of Thomas kissing her body filled her mind. Her cheeks burned. Perhaps she was ill. Perhaps she was in a family way.

She took a deep breath. “I must leave,” she said, and rose to her feet.

“I’ll see you home.”

“No, I have to find Mrs. Munroe.”

The suspicion returned to his expression. She sat down hard on the settee as she caught her breath, wiggling in her stays.

“She went home,” he said.

“What, she left without me?”

“I’m afraid I’m guilty.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told her I’d see you home.”

“When? You haven’t left my side.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll take you home when you’re ready.”

This struck as most unseemly and improper, but no other choice to get her home came to mind. “I’m ready right now,” she said with trepidation.

“Very well, I’ll get my things, and we’ll be on our way.”

He walked toward the door and exited. She focused on her body. When did she have her last monthly? Not since she set out on this adventure.

She flushed with embarrassment. Pregnant with a betrothed man’s child? The disgrace set her head spinning again.

Her life crashed down around her head, but the music went on. The light strands of the musicians’ waltz clashed with the shock waves reverberating through her body.

“Are you ready?” Eli asked.

Alexandra jumped, startled to hear his voice. When had he returned? She glanced around. People tossed little glances and spoke behind their hands.

“Yes,” she murmured, standing up to follow him outside, her limbs unsteady. Tepid air touched her skin in the rose shades of the setting sun. The paint on Eli’s buggy peeled, and his horses were a little too lean. He helped her inside his vehicle, and she took a seat. Her skirts covered a rip in the leather. Eli’s voice drifted to her ears in a fog.

Be quiet so I can think.

Her thoughts swirled through her brain, merging and parting, leaving her confused. She thought of their hasty and unfinished lovemaking, Gabrielle kissing her brother on the cheek, and Thomas’s letter declaring his love. Grand-père’s absence. Katherine Munroe left her alone at a soirée where she knew no one. Thomas’s eyes. Thomas’s touch. Gabrielle. A child. Freshly dug graves of a little family.

“Alexandra,” Eli said, touching her arm.

She jumped and stifled a scream.

“We’re there,” he said.

“How did you know where I live?”

“You’re staying at the home of my sister’s fiancé.”

She turned and looked at him, as if for the first time. She didn’t belong here. She had to get away. She had to go home.

She stepped down from the buggy without his assistance, ignoring his calls to her. She scoffed as she lifted her silk skirts and ran up the walkway to the front door. She’d fought in the war. She could certainly get out of a buggy by herself.

She stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her, locking it to ensure that Eli wouldn’t try to follow. She performed a cursory search of the downstairs for Katherine then went upstairs and peeked into the older woman’s room. Seeing no one, she went into her room and struggled out of the dress. She hung it in the closet and, after one longing caress, shoved it out of her mind.

She pulled her trousers out of the back of her closet and pulled them on, then put on her clean white shirt, sighing at the sudden familiar softness and loose fit. After tossing a few necessities into her bag, she threw it over her shoulder and ran room-to-room searching the house for Katherine—her heart pounding at what she might find.

She stood at the back door, her brows drawn together in perplexity. Taking a deep breath, her anger faded, and a calm determination settled over her nerves. Katherine had disappeared, but it did fall upon her shoulders to locate her. Alexandra frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. She didn’t belong here. It was time to go home.

As she whirled around and walked back through the house, her gaze lit on the painting of Thomas, done with her loving hands. Five words came to her and obliterated all others:

Declared missing, and presumed dead.

****

Thomas sat with his back to the cold, earthen wall of what he now believed to be a cave, and watched his captor with wariness and trepidation. If he had wondered about the man’s sanity before, watching him now left him with no doubt.

Jake strung up an intricate pattern of rope all around them, attaching it to lead pipes he hammered into the earthen walls. Thomas thought of a spider weaving a web. His thoughts wandered back to Alexandra. How was she? Had she gotten his letter? He ached to pull her close against him and press his lips to her face, her hair, and her lips—every day for the rest of his life. He smiled as he pictured them, gray-haired, holding hands as they walked beneath sunlight…or earlier…holding their firstborn child. The picture warmed him.

His heart sank—his dreams lost here in his personal prison. Jake hadn’t spoken to him since that one time when he’d accused him of being awake. Jake tossed the occasional scrap at him. Thomas could only pick it up off the floor with his mouth and wiggle his bound hands behind his back.

He suspected that Jake prepared to leave because his meager bag of things sat next to the door. Until now, Jake’s pan, plate, blanket, and other personal items had been spread around the cave. Thomas watched to see if he would be going also; though he doubted it since he found himself trapped on the inside of the intricate web Jake wove.

If Jake left, could he get to Alexandra before Jake did?

“I think you’ll be safe now,” Jake said, and then burst out laughing. He picked up his bag and walked out of sight. His sinister laugh echoed off the walls.

Thomas reacted before the silence set in, his body scrambling to free itself from the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Already his blood dampened them where the ropes had cut into his skin. Struggling against the knots, his breath hitched. His throat tight, he swallowed the sense of panic rising in his throat. With Jake gone, how would he eat? He would die of starvation. No one knew where to find him; no one would even know to look for him. They would presume him dead.

He dozed and woke from a fitful sleep in pitch-blackness.

Suddenly, torch flames wavered next to him. He squinted, and Alexandra’s face came into focus. He gasped. Just as he remembered. Her hair short and her eyes bright. She smiled the most beautiful smile he had ever laid eyes on.

He reached out his hand to touch her, but she hovered too far away. “Alexandra, help me,” he said.

She didn’t move toward him but only continued to watch him.

Thomas closed his eyes and groaned. What trick played with his mind? He opened his eyes to darkness. Blinking, he strained for some sign of her, but not so much as a pinprick of light showed him the way.

Was she a vision, then? Perhaps that meant she died. Or that she searched for him. Or…that he would soon die.

His sense of panic returned, desperation willing him into action. His stomach growled. Standing, he inched across the floor, only to trip across one of Jake’s ropes. He fell, landing against another rope, slashing himself against the cheek just beneath his right eye. Thomas’s heart sank.

He was going to die.