Love Held Captive

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “Miss?” she asked.

  Obviously startled, the woman turned to her. “Oh! Hello. I do beg your pardon,” she said in a voice as smooth as fine cream. “I’m afraid I didn’t realize you were here.”

  Lizbeth certainly didn’t care about that. “Miss … uh, would you care for anything?”

  “It’s Van Fleet,” the woman supplied.

  She smiled at her. “Miss Van Fleet? Please, do sit down.”

  “Thank you.” With a wan smile, she took the chair Ethan had provided for her. “Please forgive my behavior. It’s just that it is difficult to see him in this state. Every other time I’ve seen him, I felt as if he was invincible.” Her gloved hand shook. “I know it makes little sense, of course. I mean, I know he suffered injuries. I just … well …”

  “Seeing the reality can be far more difficult.”

  “Yes.” Looking frustrated with herself, Miss Van Fleet carefully unfastened the small buttons at the base of one glove, then pulled it off. After looking about her person in confusion, she simply swiped at her tears with two slim fingers.

  “Miss Van Fleet, allow me,” Ethan said as he handed her a white handkerchief.

  “Thank you.” Though she still kept her eyes on the captain, she murmured to Lizbeth, “My name is Julianne. Miss, are you another friend of his?”

  Lizbeth caught the curious tone, laced with, perhaps, a touch of jealousy. “No, I’m afraid not. I’ve never met him. I used to be a maid here.”

  “This is Miss Elizabeth Barclay. She is a friend of mine,” Ethan said, directing a warm look her way.

  His warm reassurance made her heart lift. Maybe she and the major actually were on the road to a real relationship. “Please, call me Lizbeth.”

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Lizbeth, Major Kelly, what is the prognosis?”

  Ethan answered. “Devin was shot in his upper back, almost at his shoulder. Miraculously, the bullet didn’t hit his lungs or heart, but he did lose quite a bit of blood. The physician cleaned his wound and sewed it up as best he could. Now we can only sit and wait, I’m afraid.”

  Miss Van Fleet’s bottom lip trembled. “Does he have a fever?”

  Lizbeth shook her head. “Not yet. He’s been either unconscious or asleep almost the whole time since he arrived.”

  “I see. Well, I came to help. How may I assist you?”

  Lizbeth looked at the beautiful gown. Her polished demeanor. “Perhaps you could simply sit here with him?”

  Miss Van Fleet looked at the cloths and the pitchers of water. And maybe she noticed how rumpled Lizbeth looked as well. “I put on my best gown, Lizbeth, but that doesn’t mean I am a stranger to hard work. I am happy to attend to Devin as best I can.”

  The woman’s matter-of-fact tone was a welcome relief. Maybe she could help her and Ethan after all. “Perhaps we could help each other how each one sees fit?”

  “Thank you,” she said hesitantly. “I’d like that.”

  To her surprise, Ethan came to her side and curved his hand possessively around her elbow. “Lizbeth, now that we have some help, why don’t you take a break and rest?”

  “I got some sleep last night.”

  “You slept on the chair. Go back to Mrs. Harrison’s for a while. Get something to eat. I’ll stay here with Devin and Miss Van Fleet.”

  The twinge of jealousy she’d been fighting grew. Lizbeth hated that she was thinking about herself when she should be thinking only about the captain’s health, but she wasn’t sure how to push it aside. “I really don’t mind staying. Besides, Miss Van Fleet only just arrived.”

  “I rode in on the stage today to help Devin,” she said. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

  It seemed she had no choice. “All right, then.” When she started toward the door, Ethan stopped her.

  “Not so fast,” he murmured, cupping his hands around her shoulders. “Promise me you’ll get some rest. And that you’ll think about my offer some more.”

  His offer? To her surprise, she’d forgotten all about his proposal of marriage! Feeling far lighter of spirit, she felt much of her jealousy drift away. In its place was something new and warm and comforting. “I’ll do some thinking, but I don’t believe my answer will change.”

  He leaned closer. “Then I guess I’ll have to find a way to change your mind, won’t I?”

  She gasped. His words, his touch, the feel of his breath on her neck, it was suddenly all too much to take in. After clumsily saying her good-byes, she darted out of the room.

  Ethan’s words rang in her ears as Lizbeth walked to the lobby. Looking around the space, she scanned the few coat hooks near the main entrance. She’d somehow lost her cloak in all the commotion surrounding Captain Monroe’s arrival.

  Not immediately spying it, Lizbeth decided to walk the perimeter. Her cloak had to be somewhere out in the open. She didn’t mind the search. It gave her a few precious moments to reflect on what had just happened … and the way Ethan had spoken to her. For the first time in her life, she wished she had more experience with men.

  She didn’t understand his repartee or his statements laced with hidden meanings. He made her feel uneasy and at a disadvantage. That conversation, together with the captain’s injury and Miss Van Fleet’s arrival, had been a lot to take in. Aching for the quiet of her room, she increased her pace. With luck, she could be back at Mrs. Harrison’s house in fifteen minutes. Then she’d be able to review everything that had occurred in her mind, pray for guidance, and try to make some sense of it all.

  Finally, in a darker corner of the lobby, Lizbeth found her cloak tossed over the arm of a rather uncomfortable horsehair chair. Relieved to have located it at last, she quickly fastened it, then headed toward the front door. Lost in thought, she almost walked right past her cousin. But because she didn’t, Lizbeth forced herself to stop and say hello.

  Aileen looked just as surprised to see her. “You’re still here?”

  “I never left. I’ve been in the back rooms with Major Kelly and … his injured friend.” She thought Ethan would rather she not mention his name, although she had a feeling Aileen knew it anyway.

  “Oh. Well, where are you living now?”

  “I’m at Mrs. Harrison’s down the street.”

  “She allowed you to live there?”

  “Why are you surprised, Aileen? Did you want me to be homeless?”

  “No. Of course not.” Her expression turned pained. “May I talk with you?”

  “Are you sure your reputation will survive?”

  She flushed. “I know I deserved that. I promise, this won’t take long.”

  Lizbeth nodded. Talking with Aileen about her reputation was the last thing she wanted to do. But Lizbeth also had a feeling her cousin was being sincere.

  “Thank you. We can walk outside. Let me go tell Dallas where I’m going and I’ll get my cloak.”

  Lizbeth nodded and then tried not to feel conspicuous as she waited by the entrance for her cousin to return. Several workers looked at her curiously, but didn’t say a word. It was obvious they were being observed by Dallas Howard.

  Luckily, Aileen appeared mere minutes later. “Thank you for waiting,” she said, glancing at her husband before they went out the door.

  “What did you want to say?” Lizbeth asked once they were outside.

  “That … well, that I am sorry about how things have been going between us.”

  As far as apologies went, Lizbeth figured this was one of the worst. “You are sorry for the way things have been going?” she sputtered. “You sided with that … that man instead of me. You said my reputation interfered with the hotel’s and you asked me to leave. Dallas barely gave me my full payment. That is how things have been going between us.”

  “All of that is true. I really am sorry.”

  “You know, what I don’t understand is how you could treat a member of your family like that.”

  “I guess a part of me always resented you.” She closed her
eyes. “It wasn’t until you left last week that I realized just how badly I’ve behaved.”

  Lizbeth couldn’t let her off that easily. “You have tried your hardest to make me pay for things that were never my fault, Aileen. I never wanted my mother to treat you badly. I never wanted the two of us to be in competition with each other.”

  “I realize that now.”

  “I wish you would have realized that before. You know it was hard to ask you for a job, but I did. And you know what I went through too—alone in that house during the war.”

  “Again, everything you have said is true. I don’t have an excuse, other than I was so eager to start over. I was eager to push away everything from my past …” Her voice drifted off. “I guess that doesn’t make sense, but in time, maybe you will one day be able to forgive me.”

  Aileen’s statement struck a chord. Lizbeth actually did know how it felt to want to start over. To push away the past and pretend it never occurred. “You don’t need to wait for one day, Aileen,” she said quietly. “I forgive you now.”

  “I appreciate that. Thank you. What are you going to do now? I mean … do you want me to talk to Dallas about getting your job back?”

  If there was a silver lining in all that had happened, it was that Aileen’s harsh treatment had pushed Lizbeth out of her self-inflicted prison. No matter what God had in her future, she was certain she couldn’t go back to the way things had been. “I don’t know what my future holds,” she said lightly. “I was thinking maybe I would move.”

  “Really? What about the major? You two seem close.”

  Lizbeth almost smiled. They had seemed to be getting close. So close he’d even proposed to her the day before! “We are becoming friends,” she said.

  “Maybe there will be something there, then.”

  “I don’t know what will happen. Only God does.” Suddenly feeling exhausted, she stifled a yawn. “Aileen, I’m sorry, but I must go. I fear I must get some rest.”

  “Yes. Of course. Take care of yourself, cousin. I mean that sincerely.”

  “And you too, Aileen,” she said, surprising herself.

  When she finally got to her room at Harrison House and lay down on her bed, Lizbeth’s mind spun. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but it had been an exceptionally tumultuous couple of days.

  She could only hope the rest of this day was far quieter. She rather doubted that would be the case, however. After all, it was only a little after two.

  22

  Feel free to get some rest, Major,” Miss Van Fleet said after the two of them had been sitting in silence for the last half hour. “If you would let me know how to send word to you, I promise to notify you the moment Devin’s condition changes.”

  With a start, Ethan realized he’d been standing against the wall, lost in thought. He’d also been staring at her. That had been rather rude. Abruptly, he sat down in the chair next to the small writing desk. “Thank you, but I will stay here as well.”

  “There’s really no need for you to do that.”

  “Actually, I think there’s every need.”

  She turned to face him. “Are you staying because you don’t trust me? I promise I won’t leave his side.”

  It was true, he didn’t trust her. But it was more than that. “Devin Monroe is one of my closest friends on this earth. I have no wish to be anywhere else.”

  Her expression softened. “I understand.” Then, with a rustle of taffeta, she turned back to Devin.

  He watched as she leaned closer to him. Pressed her hand to his cheek and forehead, obviously checking for fever. He hadn’t thought to do that. Feeling awkward, he got to his feet again. “How does he seem? Is he running a fever?”

  “There’s no change. Not that I can discern, at least.” She sighed. “He does seem to be sleeping peacefully. That’s something, at least.”

  “I agree. Rest is what he needs.” He started to bring up his experience when recovering from a gunshot wound, but stopped himself in time. Stories about war wounds were not acceptable conversational topics. The timing couldn’t be worse either. After all, what could he say? That he’d felt blessed not to have died like the other men in the surgical tent had?

  Her attention still focused on Devin, Miss Van Fleet nodded. He wondered if she had even heard what he said.

  Though he knew he should probably sit back down again, he resumed his position against the wall. He watched her watch Devin.

  Each minute passed more slowly than the next.

  Miss Van Fleet was right. There was no reason for them both to keep vigil. But he could no more leave than heal Devin. Only God and time could heal his friend.

  Bored, and feeling a bit at loose ends, he studied Miss Van Fleet. Julianne. Maybe it was her auburn hair, maybe it was the curve of her jaw and neck, but he found himself gazing at her in appreciation—much like one might stare at a painting or a particularly beautiful flower.

  She was striking. He could see how she would have caught Devin’s attention.

  “You are very beautiful,” he murmured.

  Obviously startled, she turned her head, capturing him with her blue eyes. They looked wary, as if she didn’t know how to respond.

  He didn’t blame her; his comment had been too blunt. Maybe too honest.

  “Thank you,” she said after another moment. After his nod, she turned away and went back to holding Devin’s hand.

  Ethan folded his arms across his chest and continued his bold perusal. In all the time he’d known Devin, the man had never displayed more than a passing interest in any female. How had this one come to mean so much to his friend so quickly?

  “Is that what caught Devin’s attention?” he blurted. “Your beauty?”

  “I couldn’t say. You’ll have to ask him when he wakes up.”

  Her modest answer was everything proper. He appreciated that. But he couldn’t help but wonder if his old friend—who was so capable and forthright among men but inexperienced with women—might have been taken advantage of by this beautiful woman. He’d watched his sister and mother use their looks to their advantage any number of times. “I guess you are accustomed to using your looks to get what you want.”

  She turned to face him again. “Not necessarily,” she said, her voice noticeably cooler.

  And why wouldn’t it be? He was jabbing and prodding at her like a child might bother a stray animal. Practically goading her to retaliate.

  This wasn’t like him. Far from it! But part of him was glad he was goading her. If she broke her composure and admitted to manipulating Devin, he could have a reason to make her leave.

  Then he would finally be able to do something of worth. To take care of something, even if it was to get this woman who was so unsuitable for his friend out of his life.

  Returning his attention to her reply, he pushed some more. “No? Not many women can say they survived the war as well as you did.”

  “I imagine that is true.” Her chin lifted.

  That chin lift told him much. He wondered, if the room hadn’t been so dark, would he have been able to see more of a reaction than she was showing now? Would he have spied pain in her eyes? Regret?

  “Is that how Bushnell acquired you?”

  She visibly flinched. It brought him the reaction he’d been searching for … and made him feel ashamed. “I beg your pardon, Miss Van Fleet. That was beyond the pale.” His mother would have been ashamed too. Oh, who was he kidding? Lizbeth would be upset with him too.

  To his surprise, she stood up and walked toward him. “Oh, no, Major Kelly. Let us not start begging each other’s forgiveness, especially since we both know you don’t regret your words.”

  Her words stung … and brought his worst thoughts back. “All right, then, perhaps you could tell me how you became the paramour of such a miserable man.”

  She cocked her head, stepping closer. The faint scent of rose, laced with an undertone of spice, wafted toward him. He hated that he noticed it.

 
“I don’t owe you an explanation, sir. But if it will help you understand that I am not about to hurt Devin, I’ll attempt to explain myself.” She sighed. “By the time the war had been going on eight months, my grandmother and I were starving.”

  His mouth went dry. “Starving.”

  “Although my father maintained a nice enough home for us in Boerne, my family was by no means well off before the war began. Then, as you might imagine, after Texas joined the Confederacy and the fighting continued for months and months, our situation grew worse.” After a pause, she continued, her voice thick with emotion. “My father had been killed, my mother left to live with my sister elsewhere—and sent no funds to help us—and my grandmother was ailing. I didn’t know what to do. When I heard about an officer’s cotillion in San Antonio, I decided to go. Women talked about how some men were eager to leave a wife behind when they were off fighting. Some were so eager, they weren’t too particular about who said yes. So I put on my best gown and decided to find myself a husband.”

  “You went to make a match.”

  She laughed softly. “Yes. But I soon realized that was a fool’s quest. Gentlemen officers like you were not so desperate as to marry a woman who was not only awkward and shy but also had no money to speak of. Then, out of the blue, one man did show interest in me.”

  “Bushnell.”

  “Yes. He said things, things to make me believe he cared for me. He called on me at my home, acted as though he was about to make me an offer of marriage.” She swallowed, clearly in no hurry to share more of her story with him. “Suffice to say I misinterpreted his regard and soon had no options left but the one he did offer.”

  “So you sold yourself.”

  “I did what I had to do. Daniel Bushnell was, in many ways, the answer to a prayer.”

  He scoffed. “I find it something of a stretch to categorize Bushnell in those terms. He’s as far from angelic as a man can get. Truly, he is a scoundrel of the worst sort.”

  “It was because he is a scoundrel that I was able to take care of my grandmother.”