One Wore Blue

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One Wore Blue Page 13

by Heather Graham


  “Indeed,” Jesse said pleasantly, smiling at her expectantly. “Young love. How touching.”

  She wanted to throttle him. He stood shaking her father’s hand, staring at her.

  Lacey was suddenly back in the room, bearing a silver tray with small wineglasses upon it. “My very best blackberry wine, gentlemen. And lady!” She acknowledged Kiernan with a wide, brimming smile. “We must celebrate, everyone being here and well and beneath my roof!”

  “Hear, hear!” Daniel said, laughing and availing himself quickly of a glass.

  Kiernan wasn’t sure how or when, but at last she was disengaged from Anthony. She hugged her father fiercely, realizing that she was heartily glad to see him again.

  But then she found herself uncomfortably close to Jesse. His head bent low, he whispered to her.

  “Haven’t quite told him that you’re not marrying him?”

  She lifted her chin, smiling, trying to appear every bit as casual as Jesse did.

  “Why, Captain Cameron, I haven’t even begun to make up my mind about such things as yet!”

  “Perhaps you should. Soon.”

  “Perhaps you should see to your own affairs, Captain. To my mind, they are in grave disarray.”

  “Perhaps I should ask your father for your hand. Perhaps we should bare our souls before him—and about the other things that have recently been bared.”

  She swung around, seeing amusement in his eyes.

  And a warning.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Kiernan, I’d dare anything, you know that.”

  “But you won’t, please. For my sake.”

  He inhaled sharply, watching her, and she knew that she had hit the proper note with him. Jesse would dare anything. But pleading with him had a different effect.

  For the moment, she was safe.

  Safe? But she loved him!

  And she hated him for the stand he was taking.

  Lacey soon had everyone seated. John Mackay and Thomas Donahue and Andrew and Anthony Miller all demanded to hear the details of everything that had happened in their absence.

  “It was right distressing to be in the mountains hearing about the things going on down here,” John Mackay said. “Right distressing. Word was so vague. One minute, the whole town was up in arms. The next minute, it was nothing but a little bitty skirmish. Daughter,” he told Kiernan, shaking his head, “I’ll not be so quick to leave you alone again, ever.”

  “Pa, I’m just fine,” Kiernan said.

  “Thanks to Captain Cameron,” Lacey murmured vaguely. Kiernan froze. Lacey looked up and realized that everyone was staring at her. “Oh, I am sorry!” she said with distress.

  “Lacey Donahue, what are you talking about?” John Mackay demanded. He was on his feet facing Lacey, who looked as if she were about to cry. John swung around on Kiernan. “Young lady, what is she talking about?” He didn’t wait for Kiernan to answer, but swung on Jesse. “By the soul of my dear friend, your departed father, young man, I demand an answer.”

  Jesse shrugged and looked at Kiernan, giving her the option to answer.

  “Oh, Pa, it was nothing, really. A few of those scoundrels surprised Lacey and me, and they decided that I would make a good hostage.”

  “Lord!” Anthony exclaimed in horror.

  “But nothing happened!” Kiernan insisted. “Jesse came along, and they took off. It was nothing, really.”

  “Nothing, really! Why young woman, I do hope you displayed a proper gratitude to Jesse.”

  “John,” Jesse murmured. His eyes were on Kiernan again, and she didn’t much like either the amusement or the hint of danger within them. “I assure you, Kiernan displayed a gratitude unequal to any I have ever known.”

  Damn him! Her cheeks were flaming, but she determined to fight fire with fire. She smiled sweetly for her father. “Indeed, Father, I thanked him fully. After all, Jesse was such an incredible … gentleman.”

  “One cannot say enough for your daughter’s strength and courage and … passion, sir!”

  Oh, if only she could throw something!

  But suddenly Anthony stood up and faced Jesse. “Captain, I am in your debt. I am ever so beholden to you!” Emotion trembled in his voice.

  Jesse looked at Anthony, and for a long moment Kiernan thought that he would explode with some damning words.

  But he did not.

  Beholden indeed, Jesse thought. Anthony, you poor fool, you owe me nothing. I took what was dear to you on your very own property, and now we are both here playing to her whimsy.

  He leaned back, sipped his drink, and replied casually, “Kiernan and I are old friends, Anthony. I happened along at the right time.” He sat forward, and his eyes met Kiernan’s again. “Heaven might have found some pity for Mr. Brown after all, had he managed to seize Kiernan.” He smiled to take the sting—and the truth!—from his words. “Perhaps we’d never have needed to storm the place had he snared Kiernan. She’d have given him a political tongue-lashing and sent him running instantly to surrender!”

  John Mackay roared with laughter, while Anthony looked uncertain. Kiernan cast daggers upon Jesse with her eyes, and Lacey hastily refilled the glasses.

  Kiernan’s father sobered. “Still, Jesse Cameron, in truth, we are in your debt. All ended well here, but you young people do not remember the Nat Turner rebellion in the Tidewater region back in ’31. Fifty were killed then, dragged from their beds and murdered. Women and children. Bless the good Lord that a like thing did not happen here.”

  They were all silent. Kiernan glanced at Jesse, and he watched her very soberly.

  Jesse, I am grateful for everything! she thought. And I do love you.

  But there was no way to let him know her thoughts. Nor did she want to—he was holding himself away from her and from everything that he should profess to love.

  His somber eyes did not leave hers as talk continued.

  Though he was invited, Jesse declined dinner. He swept his hat off to wish them all a good day.

  There was nothing that Kiernan could do then but watch him leave the house. She felt a touch on her shoulder. It was Anthony. He put his arm around her. “My God, Kiernan, you’re safe!” he whispered. “It is all that I prayed for, night and day, since we heard the news. I vowed my life for yours, but there was no way to give it.”

  I can’t marry you, Anthony, she thought. The words were in her heart and on her lips.

  But she couldn’t say them, not now. She forced a smile, and feeling ill, she returned inside with Anthony.

  Daniel Cameron had remained. He told them that their trip to Pleasant Valley the night before had yielded no sign of rebellion. “Just sleepy farmers and slaves who were afraid of John Brown more than they were intrigued by him.”

  “So it’s really over with then,” John Mackay said with satisfaction.

  “All but the trial and the hanging,” Daniel said.

  The men continued talking, and Kiernan realized that Daniel was watching her closely.

  She pleaded exhaustion and fled from them all, upstairs to the haven of her room.

  In the morning she learned that Jesse had been called back to Washington.

  Kiernan didn’t see Jesse again until John Brown’s trial, which began on October 27.

  Brown had been brought to Charles Town, which lay a few miles from Harpers Ferry, the day after his capture. He and four other captured raiders were arraigned on the twenty-fifth, and the next day they were indicted for treason against the Commonwealth of Virginia, for conspiring with slaves to rebel, and for murder. Each defendant pleaded not guilty, and each asked for a separate trial.

  The trials began with Brown’s.

  John Mackay was determined to attend, as were Anthony and Andrew Miller and Thomas Donahue.

  They all frowned upon Kiernan’s attending, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be there herself.

  But she knew that Jesse would be there. She was certain that the prosecution would demand
that he be on hand if they needed him as a witness.

  Anthony had remained very kind. She did love him, she realized, as a very dear and important friend, one whom she would never injure, if it was in her power to avoid it. There would one day be a way to talk him. But for now she managed to evade his determination to propose an engagement. When he pressed her, she came up with the excuse that she hadn’t received all the education that she desired.

  “Kiernan,” he had told her politely one evening, “we are not getting any younger.”

  He didn’t mean we—he meant her. For some reason, men were allowed to marry at any age they chose. He was, as always, unerringly tactful in reminding her that she was already eighteen, several years older than most women in her social class were when they married.

  “Then Anthony, perhaps you should look elsewhere.”

  “We’ll speak of it later,” he assured her quickly. “Kiernan, take your time, study where you will. All the more will you grace my house.”

  “Anthony, I am not sure—”

  “There is no other woman I could want.”

  “Anthony,” she said in a rush, “I’m not sure that I love you.”

  “But I love you. Enough for both of us. Kiernan, nothing that you can say will dissuade me.”

  Not even the fact that I have slept with another man? she wondered in silence.

  Or that I love that other man? Have always loved him?

  She knew that she had to speak the truth. But she didn’t know how to do it without wounding him.

  When they arrived at the Charles Town courtroom, she knew that she should have been more decisive. Anthony was escorting her when she looked across the room and saw that Jesse had already arrived—and that he was watching her upon Anthony’s arm.

  It was amazing that he had spotted her so quickly, she thought. The courtroom was packed.

  There was a tremendous commotion, but then Judge Parker brought the court to order.

  John Brown, still suffering from his wounds, was brought in on a cot. Kiernan stared at him, searching for something in the man to confirm what she had heard. She was not disappointed. His eyes did burn. As they moved about the courtroom, she felt a distinct unease.

  The prisoner had barely come in and order had just been called when one of his defense attorneys began to make a plea for him. He read a telegram from A. H. Lewis of Ohio who stated that there were many instances of insanity within Brown’s family. Clemency was the suggestion.

  It was an intriguing defense stratagem, Kiernan thought, one that might well save the man’s life.

  Except that John Brown wasn’t about to allow it. He stood, rising from his cot with considerable dignity, and denied that he was insane.

  He would not be sent to an institution; he would not have his life salvaged. He had known what he was doing, and he believed in the right of it.

  Watching him, Kiernan was startled by the pity she felt for the man. He frightened her, and yet she was sorry for him. She could not admire him, yet she could admire his conviction.

  As the day dragged on, proof of his treason was read out time and time again, and she believed more and more that he truly thought himself a servant of God, and that although he had shed blood, he regretted that blood must darken the land.

  She left the courtroom that first day with a great deal of confusion. And in that confusion, she wanted to see Jesse.

  She saw him sooner than she had expected. As she was leaving the courtroom on Anthony’s arm, she ran right into him. He stepped back, and lifted his hat to her and to Anthony. “Kiernan, Anthony. What a pleasure.”

  His voice was edged with sarcasm, and his eyes held a distinctively mocking light when they fell upon her.

  Anthony shook Jesse’s hand and greeted him enthusiastically, and then her father was there and Andrew Miller and Thomas Donahue, and the men became quickly involved in conversation. Before she knew it, they had invited Jesse to dinner with them.

  Well, she had wanted to see him. But not with half of the world present, and the only conversation that of the trial.

  She held her breath, waiting to see if Jesse would decline the invitation.

  He did not. “I’d enjoy the companionship,” he said, and turned to Kiernan. “And of course, the presence of such a fine lady.”

  They met in two hours in the restaurant of the hotel where they were staying. Eager as she was to see Jesse alone, Kiernan was hard pressed to remain graciously with the others for long as they spoke outside the courtroom. She tried to respond appropriately to their conversation, she tried to remain calm and demure lest her father grew suspicious. But the first second that she could, she excused herself and bolted for her room. In the short time she had before dinner, she ordered a bath and scrubbed her hair with perfumed shampoo. With furious energy, she towel-dried her honey-colored tresses. Then she dressed in an elegant peach and yellow gown with draping white linen sleeves and tore down to the dining room, hoping to meet Jesse before the others arrived.

  The place was a madhouse with all the people in town attending the trial. Kiernan looked anxiously about but did not see Jesse. The tuxedoed maître d’ of the restaurant found her, and bowing low, he informed her that Captain Cameron had reserved a room for their party.

  She reached the doorway and saw Jesse standing by one of the chairs, sipping a full drink. He was in full dress uniform, dark, handsome, exciting. Her heart was suddenly still as she watched him.

  He sensed that she was there and turned to her. Their eyes met, and for a moment, her need to rush into his arms seemed to be overwhelming. In only a second, her heart and limbs would have taken flight.

  “Ah, here you are, Cameron, Kiernan. Jesse, I do say, what a fine thing you’ve done for us all, thinking to reserve this privacy!”

  She didn’t move. Her heart sank, and her limbs did not take flight. Anthony was behind her, setting his hands tenderly upon her shoulders. Though Jesse’s eyes continued to meet hers, he spoke casually to Anthony.

  “I was expected that there might be a crowd and thought of reserving space.”

  Then her father came in, and Andrew and Thomas. Kiernan found herself seated in between Anthony and her father, and across from Jesse.

  “Well, Jesse,” John Mackay demanded, making a broad motion as he unfolded his napkin and set it upon his lap. “What did you think of the proceedings today? Brown could easily have grabbed hold of that insanity plea, by Jove! There’s a madman if I’ve ever seen one.”

  “Sir, he’s a fanatic, certainly. If that makes him a madman, I’m not certain.”

  “Bah!” Andrew Miller said irritably. “He’s mad. And dangerous. And a fool. He thinks that he has the word of the Lord in his ears! Well, let me tell you, the Lord says otherwise. In the Bible the good Lord said, ‘Slaves, obey your masters.’ Isn’t that right, Captain Cameron?”

  Kiernan stared at Jesse, praying that he wouldn’t be difficult at the dinner table.

  Jesse shrugged. “Mr. Miller, I’m afraid that I wasn’t a very good Bible student.”

  “What are you saying, sir?” Andrew Miller, his face flushed, demanded. “You don’t think that Brown will hang—or that he deserves to?”

  “Oh yes, he’ll hang,” Jesse said. “And by any law, he deserves to do so.”

  Andrew settled back. Lacey’s husband, Thomas, looked acutely uncomfortable. He was Andrew’s friend and a strong advocate of states’ rights, but he didn’t believe in slavery himself.

  Jesse leaned forward. “Gentlemen, we’ve a lady present at the table. I suggest we cease to discuss politics for the duration of the meal.”

  Kiernan was deeply annoyed when her father literally snorted, “Kiernan? Why, Jesse, you know my girl as well as anyone!”

  Jesse smiled at her. “Probably better,” he offered pleasantly.

  “Then you know she’s not in the least offended by talk of politics.”

  “My, my,” Kiernan murmured sweetly, “it must be the company I keep!” She si
de-kicked her father. He yelped and stared at her and frowned warningly, but she continued to smile sweetly. “Humor me, Father,” she said. “Let’s do cease with all of this for a while.”

  There were plays to discuss, their land, the military itself, the trip that the men in partnership had taken into the mountains. The food offered by the hotel was very good, but Kiernan barely tasted hers. She grew restless as coffee was served to them in elegant silver pitchers. The meal would end soon. Maybe then she’d have a chance to talk to Jesse.

  But it wasn’t to be. Jesse barely touched his coffee. He stood and told them that he had an appointment for a drink with an old army friend and bade them good night, bowing handsomely to Kiernan.

  The trial lasted two and half more days. Kiernan sat through the entirety of it. She listened to John Brown, and she listened to the witnesses. She was torn. What had happened had been horrible—John Brown had committed murder. He had come with hundreds of pikes with which to arm slaves. If he had created an insurrection, hundreds of people might have been brutally murdered in cold blood.

  Yet there was something about the man. He would not be quickly forgotten.

  On October 31, closing arguments were given. The case was handed over to the jury at one thirty in the afternon.

  The jury deliberated for forty-five minutes. The verdict came in. John Brown was guilty on all three counts. Old Ossawatomie Brown was going to be hanged by the neck until dead.

  Kiernan had expected shouts and cries from the crowd that so often upon the steps of the courthouse had shouted threats and insults upon the man.

  But there was silence, dead silence.

  Brown himself merely adjusted the pallet on his cot and stretched out upon it.

  Kiernan looked across the courtroom. Jesse took his eyes from Brown and stared at her. He seemed sad—no, stricken, almost anguished. She felt his stare like a touch. But people stood all around them. In seconds, they were lost to each other in the crowd. “Daughter, it’s done. Let’s go,” her father told her. She was led from the courtroom on his arm.

 

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