The Quaker and the Rebel (25 page)

“Captain Nathan Smith of Red Oak, fourteen miles to the west. My family has a plantation outside of Winchester.” He swept off his hat, revealing a thick head of blond hair tied back with a leather cord. With broad shoulders, a short beard, and a well-trimmed moustache, he wore the expression of a man pleased with himself. “A pleasure to see you again, Miss Harrison.”

Emily vaguely remembered their acquaintance. “Could it have been the June ball at Hunt Farms where we met, sir?” She tried to sound relaxed even as her gut roiled. This man was one of Alexander’s rich, slaver friends. Huddled in the storage box behind the seat were two runaway slaves, and the hamper and cooking pots bounced around in the back of the wagon. That fact alone might draw Captain Smith’s attention.

“Indeed, it was.” Smith stared at Lila for a long moment before looking again at Emily. “Yes, the June ball. I’m sure of it. I don’t believe you honored me with a dance, Miss Harrison.” Leaning from the saddle, Smith stretched out his hand. “You must promise to rectify that on the next occasion.”

Emily stared at his hand until Lila nudged her with a foot. “Of course, Mr. Smith.” Emily leaned forward to shake.

Instead of shaking, he kissed the back of her gloved fingers. “I look forward to that dance and will hold you to your promise.”

“You must be a friend of Mr. Hunt.” Emily tugged her hand back.

“Yes, for a very long time. Since we were young boys.” Though Smith smiled, his eyes remained cold. “There is little happening in Alex’s life that I’m not a part of or at least aware of.”

Emily flushed but refused to let this rooster nettle her. “Is that so? Truly, I would think a man would have plenty in his own life to occupy his attention.” Again, Lila’s foot tapped hers in warning, but Emily paid no heed.

His laughter resembled a snort. “Of course, I only meant we had much in common and took each other into confidences.” Smith fastened his focus on Lila once more.

“Tell me, Miss Harrison. Why are you driving the wagon while your slave sits at her ease watching the scenery?”

Lila shrank lower on the bench beside her. “Miss Amite is not my slave, Mr. Smith,” said Emily. “She is a free woman of color. I would never own a slave.” Emily didn’t try to hide her repugnance.

“Oh, that’s right. I remember Alexander mentioning you were from the North.” He uttered the last word as though spitting poison. “Pray tell, what is a Yankee woman doing on a back road in Clarke County, with the Union Army camped not ten miles away?” His glare was frightening. All cordial pretention had disappeared.

Emily stiffened with alarm. He suspected her of spying? If he thought her a Union spy, he might search the wagon and discover the elderly couple. Of course, people who assisted runaways were fined a thousand dollars and jailed for six months, but spies were hanged. That thought crossed her mind in the seconds following Smith’s insinuation. But she couldn’t let him send Jacob and Ruth back to slavery.

“I know nothing of the whereabouts of Union camps, sir. I am running errands for Dr. Porter Bennington of Martinsburg. We came from Harper’s Ferry depot, where we picked up medical supplies. Now we’re on our way to Front Royal’s hospital. We spent the night here because we were waylaid and didn’t reach our destination by nightfall. You might not be aware, but Dr. Bennington is a physician—”

“I know who Porter Bennington is,” he snapped with impatience. “I just can’t believe he would send his governess and a maid to deliver anything this close to enemy lines.”

He was right. Dr. Bennington never would. Now that Winchester had fallen into Federal control, he wouldn’t allow her to get this close to the fighting. “I’m not sure he realizes. You know Dr. Bennington. All he thinks about are his patients. That’s why Miss Amite and I volunteered to pick up the shipment.” Emily beamed a smile and prayed it didn’t look as false as it felt.

“Yes, well…” he stammered. “Because this is a day for good deeds, I will accompany you to Front Royal to assure your safety.”

“But you are dressed as a Confederate soldier, sir. You’ll be shot on sight by Union pickets. We have the white smocks of the Sanitary Commission.” Emily dug in her valise by her feet and pulled out a garment. “We’ll be able to cross the lines unimpeded while wearing these.” She offered another bright smile.

Lighting a cheroot, Smith took a great deal of time to mull that over. “Well, Miss Harrison, I would be remiss in light of your friendship with Alexander if I don’t accompany you at least part of the way.” He grabbed the halter of her horse as the wagon began to lurch forward, and then he pulled the reins from her hands.

Emily blushed a shade of scarlet. Had Alexander discussed her with this peacock, perhaps over an evening cigar? “As you wish, sir.” Her new beau spread gossip after a few kisses in the garden? She would use that to her advantage.

After several miles, Captain Smith tossed the Percheron’s reins to Lila. “Good day to you, Miss Harrison. I look forward to our next meeting.” He tipped his hat, spurred his horse, and rode off in a cloud of dust.

Lila exhaled an audible sigh. “Whew, you sure do have the gift of gab. That man was too confused by your story not to believe you. But I didn’t like the way he looked at you or at me,” she added in a soft voice. “I know what that look means. My mama warned me about bad intentions before I even knew what went on between men and women. You had better give that dandy a wide berth.”

“I’m not sure how much he believed.” Emily dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief as a shiver ran up her spine and took back the reins. “But don’t worry. I intend to stay far away from Nathan Smith of Red Oak Plantation.”

Soon her thoughts drifted to a tall man with gray eyes, strong hands, and warm lips she would never forget. Their moonlit supper on the terrace had meant something to her. She had fantasized about a
new life in which she was cherished and loved. She was hopelessly misguided—hopeless and helpless to do anything about it.

If she hadn’t been pining for love and romance, she never would have turned north at the crossroads heading toward Charles Town. In keeping with the tale she’d spun, she would have headed toward Front Royal until absolutely certain the audacious captain was long gone. But Emily’s mind had been on Alexander and little else.

The cocky Confederate officer, astride his stallion, followed the two women for several miles. He didn’t know what to make of the situation. He hadn’t believed a word Emily had said, yet if on the outside chance she was telling the truth, any affront would get quickly back to the colonel. When their wagon turned north instead of south toward Front Royal, he spat on the ground. “You lying Yankee.” Seething, Smith ground down on his back teeth.

“I will enjoy seeing you brought to your knees, Miss Harrison, along with your black friend who fancies herself a lady. This might prove rather interesting, indeed.”

T
WELVE

A
UTUMN
1862

A
unt Augusta? Aunt Augusta!”

Mrs. Bennington awoke in her chaise in the back sunroom. “Alexander, what a pleasure to see you in Martinsburg,” she said. “Joshua built a fire in the stove on this unusually cool day, and I’m afraid I nodded off.” Sitting up, she stretched out her arms to him.

“The pleasure is mine, dear aunt.” He kissed her cheek and rubbed her hands between his.

“Where are James and Rebecca?” She peered around his shoulder. “Are your parents with you?”

“No, ma’am. I rode up alone just to see you.”

“Do you think you can fool me so easily?” Augusta rose to her feet and rang the bell for the maid. “I believe you came to see Miss Harrison.” She tapped one elegant finger against her cheek. “But I’m always glad to see you. Let’s have tea while you tell me the news.”

Alexander plopped down in a chair near hers and stretched out his long legs. “You know me too well.”

“I doubt that, nephew. Anyway, Emily walked to town on some errands and to get some air. The poor thing read to me all afternoon until I yawned rudely in the middle of her book.” Her smile erased years from her face. “Since we’ve been home she taught me the game of hearts and I’ve taught her to play whist. I don’t know what I would do without her. Porter insists on keeping the girls in Europe until this matter is settled.”

“This
matter
is a war, dear Aunt. Uncle Porter is wise to protect his daughters. I had to evade several Union patrols on my way here. That is part of the reason why I came. Martinsburg will soon be in Federal control. There’s no way around it. Neither Robert E. Lee nor anyone else can spare the troops to protect the city.”

“But the railroad is how we get medical supplies for Porter’s practice.” Augusta wrung her hands.

“That’s exactly why the Yanks want this area. And there’s not much we can do to stop them, considering local sentiments.”

Augusta nodded her head gravely. “I’ve heard the same news from Porter. Many of the town’s residents show Union loyalties. On the outlying farms, more than half of the families want to return to the Union. They are too poor to have ever owned slaves in the first place. Because the crops are being destroyed by constant skirmishes, their survival depends on peace being restored.”

“I heard that a vote will soon be taken in the statehouse. If rumors are true, counties west of the Alleghenies and here along the Potomac will leave the Confederacy.” Alexander couldn’t hide his sorrow.

“What? I can’t believe it.” Augusta slumped onto the chaise.

“That’s what is being reported in the newspapers. These counties will secede from Virginia and form a new Union state, West Virginia.” Alexander began to pace the room. “If that happens, you and Uncle Porter cannot remain in Martinsburg. You won’t be safe from Yankee reprisals. You must come to Hunt Farms for the duration of the war. In fact, my parents insist that you not wait any longer.” He crossed the room and took hold of Augusta’s hands. “Come back with me now and stay for Christmas. Then we can see what happens after the vote.”

“What about Parkersburg and our dear little island? Will they also return to the Union?”

“Most assuredly if the other western counties vote to secede.”

“I must talk this over with your uncle. Porter will be heartbroken.” She closed her eyes, fighting back tears.

“I stopped at his office first and have already spoken with him. Uncle Porter is packing his equipment. He asked me to be the one to tell you.”

“Then it is decided.” Augusta’s voice faltered as she rose to her feet. “Now, I must see about dinner. It won’t do to serve bacon and boiled potatoes when my favorite nephew comes to call.” She sounded normal, but her gait suggested the news had grieved her sorely. At the door
she paused. “I cannot comprehend this, Alexander. The world seems to be spinning out of control. When it finally stops, nothing will be the same.”

He met her gaze solemnly. “I won’t insult you by saying everything will be well. Only God knows the future. We must leave it in His capable hands.”

A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Good to hear you say that, nephew. Lately I feared you had lost your faith.” She disappeared down the hall to the kitchen.

Walking to the sideboard, Alexander spotted the decanter of brandy. Instead, he chose to pour a glass of lemonade from a waiting pitcher. He sank onto the hearth chair with his drink to ponder the future. Warmed and mesmerized by the fire, he didn’t hear the parlor door open and close until a familiar voice broke his reverie.

“That is not his horse, Lila. Just because a white stallion is here doesn’t mean it belongs to Mr. Hunt.”

Hearing Emily’s voice, Alexander’s heart leaped. He smiled at the memory of wild hair flying around her head and crinoline lace peeking beneath her hem.

“It is too, Emily. That is exactly the horse we saw at Hunt Farms, and now it’s tied up out front. I just hope William is with him.”

He slouched lower in the high-backed chair, recognizing the distinctive voice of Lila Amite and her perfect Queen’s English.
Lila Amite is sweet on William?
This was an interesting tidbit of news.

“What would he be doing here?” asked Emily. “There are Federal troops everywhere. He’s not senseless enough to cross Union lines.”

“Oh, I can assure you, Miss Harrison, I am.” Alexander stood up, stopping both women in their tracks. They turned toward him simultaneously, their mouths hanging open. “Would you care to warm yourselves by the fire? There is a bit of a chill in the air today, don’t you think?” He downed the rest of his lemonade in one long gulp.