The Lady and the Officer (11 page)

“I beg your pardon, Cousin Maddy.” Chastised, Eugenia cast her eyes downward.

“What about your barn and horses? I remember from your mother's last letter that you had married a horse farmer.”

“It's all right, Eugenia,” Madeline said. “And no, Aunt, the barn was spared, but it had already been picked clean by one army and then the other. I did have one horse left… after a fortuitous twist of fate.” Madeline chose not to mention meeting General Downing in her garden, calling on his headquarters to plead for Bo's return, and then being pulled from the inferno by him. Young Eugenia would believe every single fantastic tale inside dime romances.

Aunt Clarisa placed a delicate hand on her arm. “Well, you are safe here with us. All of that misfortune is behind you.”

“Thank you, ma'am, and I will work for my keep. I don't wish to be a financial burden on you.”

Her aunt's eyes grew as round as an owl's. “You'll do nothing of the sort. We have paid staff to handle our household needs. No family member of mine will lift a finger to earn her grits and ham.” She laughed merrily. “Ah, here's our tea now.”

The imposing butler carried a silver tray with delicious-looking things to eat. He set it down on a filigree table, straightened, and waited, clasping his gloved hands behind his back.

“Thank you, Micah. Have you met Mrs. Howard?”

“I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, madam.” He bowed in her direction.

“And I, yours, sir,” murmured Madeline.

“His wife, Esther, is our cook. You will have a chance to taste how blessed we are to have her this evening,” Aunt Clarisa said, smiling graciously at him.

“Thank you, madam. Shall I serve?”

“No, no, we will be fine on our own. That will be all.” Aunt Clarisa tilted a sandwich tray toward her niece. “Would you like something to eat? We have both salmon pâte and watercress. How about you, Eugenia?”

“I'll have one of each, Mama.” She fluttered a linen napkin across her lap.

Madeline stared at the crustless triangles surrounded by seasonal vegetables of every variety. Someone had arranged the crudités by color. “Salmon, please.”

As her aunt handed her a plate, a tall thin girl delivered a tea service to the opposite table. “Tea, ma'am.” The girl spoke with a heavy Irish brogue.

“Please pour, Kathleen. You know how Miss Eugenia and I prefer ours. How do you take your tea, Madeline?” Aunt Clarisa handed a cup and saucer to the maid.

“Just plain will be fine.” At the moment, she didn't dare admit she vastly preferred coffee over tea.

“Kathleen, this is Mrs. Howard, my niece and our guest. Please see that she's made comfortable in every way.”

Kathleen filled all three cups before responding. “How do, ma'am.” She bobbed her head while handing her the tea.

“Very well, thank you.” Madeline shifted uneasily on the chaise, unaccustomed to being waited on. “Do you have many servants, Aunt Clarisa?”

“In addition to Micah, Esther, and Kathleen, we hire a laundress and gardener for piecemeal work. Micah also drives Mr. Duncan to and from the office because our former chauffeur… moved north recently along with the other maids.”

“We don't have to worry about any more slaves running off because we have none left,” Eugenia added between bites of her sandwich.

“Yes,” Aunt Clarisa intoned almost melodically. “Micah and Esther
have been paid staff for quite some time, but Kathleen moved here from Ireland less than a year ago. She booked passage on a cotton factor's ship on its way to Wilmington. When she came to work for us, we could barely understand a word she said.”

The maid refilled teacups and left the garden without acknowledging the conversation had centered on her.

Madeline ate her first sandwich in three bites. Then without a thought to decorum, she devoured the second as quickly, not realizing how hungry she had been.

Aunt Clarisa discretely placed two more sandwiches on her china plate. “Was your journey tedious, my dear?”

“The trip by train wasn't bad, but I didn't care for our nation's capital. The muddy streets were teaming with panhandlers. I had difficulty finding a room with so many people in town.”

“It's not our capital anymore, Cousin Maddy,” Eugenia said matter-of-factly, without a hint of pique. “Richmond is our capital now.”

Aunt Clarisa angled her daughter a wry expression. Then she turned her attention back to her niece. “Were you forced to spend much time in Washington?”

Her hunger somewhat abated, Madeline nibbled her third sandwich. “Four nights. I found a ladies' boarding house willing to take me in the first night. It proved a blessing because I had to call on the war department four days in a row. Finally, an aide wrote me a pass allowing me to cross the Potomac into Arlington County.”

“You waited that long?” Aunt Clarisa set her cup in the saucer. “Where, on a hard wooden bench in the hallway?”

She nodded. “My name was put on the appointment list, but I daresay others took precedence over me.”

“Where did you eat your meals?” Eugenia scooted her stool closer.

“A woman sold sandwiches from a pushcart. They were twenty cents for jam and bread, forty-five for smoked ham.”

“Dear me, you've suffered greatly to come here.” Aunt Clarisa stood with the bearing of a queen. “You must be exhausted. Eugenia, please show Madeline to her room. I'll have more tea sent upstairs.”

“But she hasn't seen the rose garden or had a tour of the house—”

“There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow.”

Madeline stood. “I would like a brief rest before dinner.”

Eugenia reached for her hand and whispered, “We'll take the long way to your room.”

“We usually dine at half past seven. You needn't wear anything fancy tonight because it will be just the family,” Aunt Clarisa said, smiling warmly at her tired niece.

“I'm relieved to hear that. I'm afraid a farmer's wife has no need for ball gowns. I own day frocks and two good dresses for Sundays.”

“Not a single gown?” Eugenia fluttered her dark lashes with dismay.

“There were few parties in the small town where I lived.”

“Have no worries,” said Aunt Clarisa. “We're overdue for a trip to the dressmaker. It's almost August. The social season is just around the corner. You must let me treat you to a few new gowns, my dear. It's the least I can do for my sister's only child.” With the matter already settled in her mind, she walked through the French doors, leaving the younger women alone.

Madeline looked into Eugenia's sweet young face and swallowed hard.
Ball gowns? Aren't these privileged Virginians aware that a war is going on?

“Come with me and I'll give you a quick tour of your new home.” Eugenia dragged her up the outdoor staircase to the second-floor gallery.

With her traveling money exhausted, Madeline had no alternative but to smile at the daughter of her new benefactor.

S
IX

 

L
ATE
A
UGUST

W
hat are you thinking, sir?” Major Henry asked, reining in his horse beside General Downing.

James studied the lay of the land with his field glasses. From his vantage point on a grassy hillock, he could see nothing but unfenced pastures and scrub vegetation. “I think this is as good a spot as any. The higher elevation will allow our scouts to spot any movement of troops. We don't want any surprise attacks from General Lee.”

“Do you think he would try that, sir, after the whooping we gave him at Gettysburg?”

“I think we would do well to not underestimate General Lee or General Longstreet.”

“But they lost Pender, Barksdale, Garnett, and Armistead. Four generals moldering in their graves should make our job easier.”

“Hold your tongue, Major! Some of those men were my friends at the academy.” James clamped down on his back teeth, never able to abide with disrespect.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but the Rebs surely must need to bolster their regiments. More graycoats are lying in the grave in Adams County than our boys.”

“Both armies are on Virginia soil now. Lee will have an easier time of filling ranks than us.”

“True enough, but he had to send troops down to the Tennessee River to Braxton Bragg's corps. He wouldn't dare attack us now.”

“General Meade had to send three divisions west as well. Nevertheless, I would welcome an attack by General Lee. Then we could finish this bloody business once and for all.”

“We'll be ready for him, sir.”

James focused his field glasses on a cut in the western hills. “That tree line to the west is a good spot to place our picket line. We'll make camp here east of the Rappahannock. The grazing is good, and we're close
enough to Warrenton to get supplies. As long as we maintain control of the rail line, we won't be cut off from Washington. Keep a full regiment posted as guards at all times. War department dispatches and telegraph messages must be maintained.”

“Yes, sir.” The major surveyed the area with his own glasses. “You think we'll be stuck here all winter, out in the middle of nowhere?”

“We'll make camp, but I don't think we're finished with engagements for the season. General Lee may have slipped our noose in Pennsylvania, but General Meade won't let the grass grow beneath our boots for long.” James shoved his field glasses back into his saddlebag. “See to my orders, Major.”

“Yes, sir.” He snapped a salute and rode off in a cloud of dust.

James pulled a cigar from his breast pocket. He only indulged in the nasty habit on rare occasions, usually when he found himself in a foul mood. Now happened to be one of those times. Nothing but headaches had followed his corps through Maryland into Loudoun and Fauquier Counties of Virginia. At least daily marches kept him too busy to fixate on the enigmatic Mrs. Howard. But when he closed his eyes for a few hours of sleep, it was her face he saw, and the scent of lemon verbena filled his head.

He'd written her several letters, posting one each in Frederick, Purcellville, and then Middleburg. He prayed each night that one would find its way to Forsythia Lane in Richmond.
Was her journey fraught with danger? Was she greeted with hostility in Jefferson Davis's capital?

He should have insisted that she stay with his parents in Philadelphia, but there had been little time to make the arrangements. And they had spent too little time together for such presumption on his part.

If the Army of the Potomac stayed in this lush part of Virginia for a while, surely any reply she wrote would reach him. If only he knew her heart. If only she didn't lose patience and faith in him after months of separation. Because he planned to do everything in his power to see his troops prevail. Then nothing… and no one… would stand in the way of his finding her again.

Madeline slept for ten straight hours her first night in Richmond. Marching bands or exploding artillery shells couldn't have woken her. Not that there were either of those on Forsythia Lane. The side street the Duncans lived on was blissfully quiet. Neighbors went about their business mindful of people's privacy, as they did elsewhere in the country.

Yet Madeline no longer resided in the United States. Virginia and eleven other states had withdrawn from the nation as they might have from a club whose rules they could no longer abide. Still, her aunt, uncle, and cousin, along with their staff, not only welcomed her but treated her like an honored guest. Aunt Clarisa insisted that Madeline treat the mansion as her home. But no house she ever lived in contained fourteen rooms, with servants' quarters, galleries, terraces, and two formal gardens. The Howards of Cashtown had never dined on china, crystal, and silver, or spent two hours at the table. She and Tobias sat down, said grace, and ate their food. Then they returned to chores after a brief exchange of news, such as ripening tomatoes or the foaling of a mare.

That was not the case in the Duncan dining room. They discussed all sorts of matters, such as which bills were being debated in the state legislature or which candidates might run in the fall elections. Blessedly, the topic of war had been avoided during her first evening. After dinner Eugenia took her on a tour of all three floors, including the subterranean winter kitchen. The younger woman explained that two of the five staircases were reserved for servants. When Madeline asked if she ever just used the closest steps, Eugenia had replied: “Why, no. That never occurred to me.”