by Gina Danna
She’d raised his temper. He did have a weapon, of sorts, in that cane. Memories of his touch reminded her he wasn’t evil, but could she believe it?
“I mean,” she started, biting her lower lip. “Confederate currency is of no use here.”
The anger on his face vanished as he laughed. “No, none of that. I have access to funds for the dress. When she returns today, please accept. As my gratitude to the doctor who saved my life.”
He was hitting the right spot as a man who understood her value as a surgeon. The squeal inside her banged to be heard but she bit her tongue, offering him a small smile and a slight nod. “For that, I thank you. But as to the dance…”
“We will go. If you recall, that was the deal. I put up with being blamed for all the badness you Yankees heap on us, your Southern brothers, so I expect payback in full.” Then he smiled big, a devilish grin that made her nerves tingle with anticipation as the words struck home. Even her lower abdomen grew warm.
“No, we can’t,” her voice faded. Swallowing hard the lump in her throat, she added, “What we did was very inappropriate. You know that as well as I.”
“I would not think it inappropriate. You enjoyed it as much as I,” he argued. Leaning in slightly, he added, “Unless you hold feelings for another, perhaps one that writes you those letters.”
She nearly dropped her fork, aghast. Had he seen her pull that letter from Richard? She didn’t think he paid any mind to things like that.
“I do have feelings for another man, yes.” She took the handle on her teacup.
He was staring at her. It was a questioning gaze, not a snarl. “A soldier? Fighting for your abolitionist wing?”
She didn’t answer at first. “He is a doctor for the Union as well.”
“Out in the field? Or here?” He snorted. “Men miles from their woman’s touch will often turn to others to fill that need.”
“How dare you!”
“Not all, but many.”
“And do you have a lady at home that you thought of when we were…?”
He shuffled the utensils at his plate, not looking at her right away. “No. The woman I love cannot be mine.”
His tone startled her. He’d lost someone. The air in the room chilled. She cleared her throat. “All right. I’ll accept your gift out of courtesy and since we had an agreement, to which you held your end admirably, considering. But hear me well. The moment the slightest ache hits, we will depart. Am I understood, sir?”
He surprised her with a wink.
Why did she feel like she’d just made a deal with a serpent?
It took him hours to finally calm down. So she did have another man she cared for. A doctor, of course, he sneered to himself. Well, perhaps he should give himself a few marks, as he had her moaning to him last night, not some other Yankee off to heaven knows where. He’d be pacing, to work off his anger but with his foot so injured, and him wanting to dance tonight, he contained himself to a few strides.
He passed the hallway looking glass. A glance at himself brought him to a complete halt. He was too thin, walking crooked with the cane, hair way too long and a shadow on his face from the whiskers. Hardly ballroom material. He snarled.
“James!”
Chapter 27
“This will, in all probability, compel him to try and throw himself between us and Richmond, and in such a movement, I hope to be able to attack him in a more open country, and outside of his breastworks.”
—General US Grant in regard to General Lee
Battle of the Wilderness, May 7, 1865
Ada tried to keep from shifting on her feet, but her blood raced and she needed to do something other than just stand. The rustling of her new silk dress drowned her hearing, or so she chose to believe, instead of the racing of her heart.
“You look beautiful,” Francois whispered in her ear.
She tried to grin, but the pressure on her was building. Trying to wiggle inside the corset, which was impossible to do as laced as it was for this outfit, she replied, “Thank you.”
He chuckled softly. “It’s a lovely gown, not a prison. Relax, let the beauty just flow through you.”
She raised a brow. The man next to her was very dapper. His long dark hair looked so neat, pomaded back for the dressy event. He was clean-shaven, wearing a white shirt, dark blue silk waistcoat that matched his sapphire eyes, with black woolen frock coat and trousers. How stunning he looked, all cleaned up and dressed well. She’d witnessed him the reverse, with blood stains and a starved look in his eyes. To see him now nearly knocked her off her heels. Of course, where he got the outfit she was afraid to ask. Will dressed nice when needed, but none of these pieces matched any she’d seen on him.
Flattening her skirt, she returned his smile. “Thank you. Again. For the compliment and the dress.”
“A lady as talented and pretty as you are, deserves a little pampering.” He winked.
She rolled her bottom lip inward—another nervous response of hers—trying not to give another look at the devil in disguise next to her. “So you have your wish and we are here. Now, may we depart?”
He laughed. “My lady, the ball has barely begun. Unless you are unwell, we have no excuse to politely excuse ourselves. I think you need to relax, feel the music the quartet is playing, and dance. Time will fly faster that way.”
He was right. She rarely swore, but right now, the cussword dangled perilously close to being heard. Pasting a smile on her face, she forcibly unclenched the hand that clutched her fan as if it was a life raft.
“You are correct. We shall stay.” She bit back a chuckle. “You did survive the crowd last night. I can do the same here.”
He gave her a beaming smile. “I take it you’ve been amiss of social affairs lately.”
“Yes, well, I have had duties at the front.”
“For the whole war?”
She looked away from him, counting back to the night before Richard left and the impact it had had on her, one that found her at Dragon Dix’s office the next day…
“Nurses don’t have time for frivolities and such.”
He frowned for a second but when the string quartet stuck up the music, he held out his hand. “Shall we dance?”
She gave him her hand and he dragged her out onto the dance floor. He spun her in front of him and it was then she saw he’d left the cane near the chair.
“No cane?”
He shook his head, just in time for her to curtsey before him and him to bow in return. Offering his hand, he held her tightly as he turned them to stand behind the next couple. The opening dance was a parade of sorts, couples that would swirl in lines around the room, weaving through everyone so everyone could see who was there and what they wore. It was a gossiper’s dream and a lady’s nightmare, worrying what if her hair was amiss, her dress lacking style or her escort failing? She had none of these issues, except for her feeling overwhelmed. Thankfully, the rebel seemed to know the protocol more than her, and took charge, for which she’d have to remember to thank him later.
She had to admit, the scene before her was breathtaking. All the bright colored silks, ranging from gold to pink to blue and white, decorated in ruffles, ribbons and silk flowers, mixed with the laughter of the ladies wearing the concoctions, with their gloved hands resting on their partner’s hand. Men wore black, blue, greens and browns with colorful waistcoats, well-cut frock coats and hair slicked back. The candlelight from the sconces and candelabra danced off them all and the scent of the lilacs and lilies with the evergreens made it all wonderful.
“Doctor, perhaps you might close those pretty little lips,” her partner whispered in her ear.
Instantly, she realized her jaw had dropped open so she quickly shut her lips, her cheeks heated. “I apologize. It has been a spell since I’ve seen such, such…”
“Elegance? Yes, compared to what we’ve both seen, it is quite a contrast.” He squeezed her fingers that draped over the edge of his palm. “More the rea
son for us to stay.”
All she could do was nod. “You must think me ill-couth for making such a scene.”
Now, he chuckled as they bent the corner as the line snaked through the ballroom. “Not hardly. I believe you’ve been so driven to prove your worth in a profession that refuses to release its control by the male gender, that you might have forgotten what a lady can do.”
She spun her head to take a glance at him. Had he figured her out? That scared her. He, though, concentrated on the dance and they never missed a step. But right as she opened her mouth to make a comment, the music ascended to a halt, ending the procession and now the line broke, the gentlemen leading the ladies to the side.
He escorted her to the pillar at the side and looked about the room. “It’s time to fill ladies’ dance cards.”
“And will you peruse getting yours filled?”
Francois leaned against the pillar, his cane back in his grip. “If you recall, my dear, my injury will keep me sidelined for most of the night.”
Ada nodded, confused as to why they were here, if he could not dance. But she didn’t have long to worry. A few gentlemen came forward and asked for a dance. Her card didn’t fill every line, but at least she wouldn’t be condemned as a wallflower.
The musicians ran a few notes, indicating the first dance would start soon. The young George Stillman offered her his hand. She instantly compared him to Francois and found the twenty-year-old was lacking in stance and looks but she could not refuse him. Hopefully, he’d not step on her feet. Nodding to Francois a short farewell, she followed her partner to the dance floor, virtually regretting it in the first few steps of the dance. He was far from Francois in every respect. What was happening to her to think that?
Francois gladly took the glass of champagne from the servant and sipped slowly, letting the bubbles tickle his nose as he tipped the glass, enjoying hearing them pop as it slid down his throat. A drink he’d had plenty of times, but now those days were an eternity ago. Fetid water, brackish and slimy to the taste, had been the common drink of the soldier. Sometimes, they’d get lucky and make an awful concoction of fermenting meat and turpentine with a few other additives to forget the war. So this was heaven…
“What a surprise to find you here, Mr. Fontaine.”
He glanced up and found a young lady standing before him. Her dark hair was piled up on her head with curls fighting to be free but pinned by pearl hairpins. Her ivory skin with those warm brown eyes that danced in the candlelight made her angelic, though her dress teased every part of him to throw aside civility for the wild.
“Why, Miss Prescott, how could I even consider not coming?” He stood, using the cane to lift him up. Amelia was the one reason he’d come.
“My, are you okay?” The shock on her face as she stared at his cane made him grimace. “What happened?”
“The war.”
Her eyes widened as she lowered her voice. “You were injured in the war? You’re not like Jack. Saw him not long back, lookin’ mighty fine in that Union uniform. But you?”
“Signed on with the Louisiana Tigers.” He gave her a lopsided grin.
She laughed. “You two boys could never agree, could you?”
“Outside us both falling over you, I suppose not. But in this war, who does?” Once the words fell from his mouth, he realized the truth in that all too well and it surprised him.
“Quite a profound statement from my carefree Francois.” Her frown tilted up in her smile. “But we are not here tonight to commiserate the war, but to celebrate the holidays. Come, let us dance?”
“Always the leader, my darling Amelia.” He stood with her and put his cane aside, praying his foot would not make him crumple in pain.
“Well,” she took his escort to the floor. “Waitin’ on you does me no good.” Once in place on the floor for a cavalier dance, they went through the opening bows and curtsies and then took their places for the six partnered dance.
“The lady you came with just continues to show what a rebel you are,” she whispered during a spin.
He raised his eyebrows, surprised she’d know Ada. “You know of Dr. Lorrance?”
“Doctor? Oh, yes, I do recall that she took to doctoring. But I mostly know her for her part in the abolitionist movement.”
Francois said nothing as he spun her, restricting his steps to protect his foot. He needed to distract Amelia, or he’d hear nothing but the freemen cause. So on the next encounter, he said, “Did you know Cerisa was in New York for a bit this last year? Ran away, so to speak, from the family curse.”
That caught his partner in surprise. “Cerisa here? In New York? Is she still?”
“No, no. She’s back home, with a husband in tow.”
Amelia laughed as they broke in tune to the dance, faced each other and bowed.
“Cerisa wasn’t to be held back any more than you two boys. Good for her. And thank you for the dance.”
He nodded. “My pleasure.”
Amelia disappeared, off to greet other guests, so he scanned the crowd to find Ada. He caught the whirl of her blue gown in the distance. Relieved, he headed back to a chair to sit when he heard another familiar tone.
“Well, my oh my, look what the cat dragged in.”
Pleasure raced through him at the sound of her tongue and he turned. “Jaquita?”
Ada laughed at what her dance partner said without really hearing him. A business owner of something she didn’t pay attention to, he had asked her to dance and she had no viable reason to refuse. They were at a ball, and protocol insisted that one accepted unless the man was vermin, at which he was escorted out. So they danced, and now he escorted her back to the place she’d been prior to his invitation.
“Thank you again, Miss Lorrance.” He gave her a slight bow and she did her best not to flinch at the angular way he bent, nor the way he had combed his hair over the bald spot on the back of his head. It was obvious his back was hurting and he was older than he looked, but she said nothing. Years of experience taught her men in particular did not want any medical advice from a lady. So she bit her bottom inner lip.
“The pleasure was mine, Mr. Wright.” She gave him a weak smile because it was hard to do more when she was gritting her teeth. He offered to stay at her side until her ‘party’ returned, but she fanned him off, telling him she was fine.
Once he was gone, she uttered a sigh of relief.
“Was he that bad a dancer?”
Ada turned and found Will by her side. “Will! Where did you come from?”
“I just arrived. A tad late, but Amelia was understanding. Being a surgeon from the front carries some weight.”
She punched him in the arm. “And bearing insults as well.”
“You know that’s not how I meant it,” he replied, rubbing the mock pain in his arm from her swing.
Will Leonard stood before her, in his dress uniform, looking rather dashing, she thought. Too bad she just couldn’t think of him in any romantic way. The problem of being friends, she decided, made any idea of intimacy out of the question.
“It is good to see you.” She smiled. “Granted a leave as well?”
“Yes. Ten day’s leave. Never long enough.” He scanned the room. “So how is our patient faring?”
“Remarkably better.”
“Good. Word has it you had an escort.”
“Yes. Mr. Fontaine insisted on being my escort.” She flipped her fan open and started fanning herself, knowing the moment those words left her mouth, Will’s curiosity rose. And in fact, his eyebrows inched higher as he stared at her.
“Truly? Why a ball?” He frowned. “You brought a Confederate to a social event here? In New York?”
“Yes. He apparently knows the hostess and insisted on this as a recompense for me taking him to the rally the other evening.”
“Rally?” Will looked shocked. “You dragged a wounded secesh to an abolitionist stomping event? Ada…”
“He needed to see the error of hi
s ways,” she insisted, fanning faster. Who was he to judge her?
Will laughed, shaking his head. “I think being in battle and wounded, maybe to never walk freely again, is a lesson well taught.”
She shot him a hard look.
“Ada, please give the man peace. He’s got nothing, according to the proclamation Lincoln issued. You’ve won.”
That comment blew the wind out of her sails. She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Will was right. Acknowledging that mentally, she could feel her body relax as the tension evaporated. She folded the fan back up and smiled.
“Thank you.” She took the champagne glass he handed her from the servant wandering through the crowd. After a sip, as the bubbles tickled her nose, she added, “I’m surprised to see you here. Didn’t think balls were your favorite event.”
He snorted. “I rather enjoy them. All the lovelies here...” He gazed over the crowd.
She rolled her bottom lip inward, thinking since he was here…. “Have you found a solution to getting him back to jail?”
Will downed his glass all at once. The silence was deafening but she’d wait, until he finally replied, “I see your escort is doing rather well on the dance floor. Bravo, doctor! Say, who is he dancing with?”
She quickly turned to find her patient. It didn’t take her too long to find him and his partner. Squinting with disbelieving shock, Ada saw the woman in his arms was a slim freedwoman, pirouetting with the grace of a swan to his every move. She was beautiful and it made the hairs on the back of Ada’s neck bristle. A flush of jealousy rocked through her core, which was another unexpected feeling for this rebel. The woman looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t pinpoint as anger clouded her vision. All she could think was, how could he? His moves on the dance floor, spinning her in time to the music and the smiles on their faces enraged her.
They were the perfect vision of a slave owner forcing his slave to his commands. That thought consumed her as she gave Will her glass, grabbed her skirts and headed to the dance floor.