The Bride Spy (Civil War Brides Book 3)
Page 6
“I know. I can’t explain it, Father. She’s astounding.”
“Ah... she doesn’t fall at your feet in simpering femininity?”
Christopher swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “The opposite, in fact.”
His father rubbed his chin. “Well then, don’t let her get away.”
“It might not be that simple.”
“It’s always that simple, Son.” Christopher snorted and his father leaned back against his desk. “Why do you think it might be complicated?”
“She has confused me.”
“I noticed.”
“I feel this need to protect her,” he admitted.
Vincent smiled. “Clearly.”
Christopher stood and paced the room. “Of course, it’s only been one day.”
“Sometimes that’s all it takes.”
“Perhaps.” Christopher frowned. “I don’t have time for this. I’m expecting an update from Clayton, who will be here tomorrow, I would imagine. I’m uncertain what to do with Miss Nelson.”
His father chuckled. “Chris, you’ll do the right thing, you always do. But it would appear Miss Nelson has made a big impression on you.”
Christopher paused with a grunt. “I suppose you could say that.”
“What about Delilah?”
Christopher grimaced. “This might sound insensitive, but Hannah makes Delilah look like... I don’t know... the words escape me. Hannah’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
“Well, I hope you’ll follow your heart, rather than logic.”
“I thought you were going to give me sage wisdom and tell me what to do.”
His father smiled. “I am giving you sage wisdom. Follow your heart. That’s what I did with your mother and believe me, she fought me tooth and nail.”
Christopher smiled. “Yes, Father, Mama’s a firecracker.”
Setting his empty glass on the desk, his father pushed away from the desk. “Just make sure you treat Delilah with respect when you let her down. She’ll be disappointed.”
Christopher grunted his response as he sat again and sipped his whiskey. The advice didn’t really help him. He had a lot to think about over the coming weeks, and having a beautiful woman drop into his life didn’t make it any easier.
His father squeezed his shoulder as he made his way to the door and then left the room. Christopher sat for a long time and tried to make sense of the emotions that swamped him. Realizing he would get no answers tonight, he decided to turn in.
Making his way upstairs to his childhood bedroom, Christopher had an overwhelming desire to see Hannah. He paused outside her bedroom and laid his palm on her door. He could imagine her sound asleep, her hair cascading across her pillow. Christopher puzzled over why she enamored and confused him. During their ride out to the lake, her dark hair had picked up red hues. She had striking hazel eyes, and with her high cheekbones and full lips, Christopher didn’t believe he’d ever seen anyone as stunning as her.
Pushing his thoughts away, he made his way to his room. He removed his clothes and fell into bed. It took him several hours to fall asleep and when slumber finally took him, he dreamed of a hazel-eyed beauty.
* * *
Hannah woke the next morning much less cloudy than usual. She had fallen asleep quickly and didn’t recall waking during the night, which was strange for her. She was a terrible sleeper, but the past two nights had been deep and uninterrupted.
As she sat up, she held her comforter tightly to her chest, just in case a certain green-eyed hottie was sitting in her room again. Scanning the space, she found her room empty, so she climbed off the bed and wondered if she was supposed to wear the same dress again today.
Before she had to make that decision, she heard a knock at her door. She jumped back into bed, pulling the covers over herself. “Come in.”
“Good morning, Hannah,” Gwen said as she entered the room. “I brought you another dress.”
Hannah smiled. “Thank you.”
Gwen laid out a yellow dress that Hannah knew would compliment her complexion. Once Gwen helped Hannah into her chemise and corset, then into the hoops and skirt, the girls made their way downstairs and into the dining room. The room was empty.
“What time is it, Gwen?’
“It’s past eight o’clock.” Gwen furrowed her brow. “I’d have thought Chris would be up by now.”
Hannah refrained from comment, not knowing his normal morning routine, but she was surprised that she missed him. The girls turned as Mr. and Mrs. Butler walked in the room.
“Good morning, Mama, Daddy.”
“Good morning.” Mr. Butler gave Gwen a kiss on the cheek.
“How did you girls sleep?” Mrs. Butler asked them.
“Very well,” Hannah said.
“Excellent.” Mrs. Butler smiled.
“No Christopher?” Mr. Butler asked.
Gwen shrugged. “Not yet.”
As they began to pass around the breakfast dishes, Hannah laid her napkin in her lap. “Shouldn’t we wait for Christopher?”
Mr. Butler smiled. “He knows what time breakfast is served.”
Hannah didn’t say anything else as she helped herself to pancakes and scrambled eggs. The meal was pleasant, with easy conversation and family joking, but Hannah was disappointed that Christopher wasn’t there. She wondered where he might be. She didn’t have to wonder for very long. He walked into the dining room looking exhausted. Gorgeous, but exhausted.
“Good morning,” his father said.
“Good morning. Forgive my tardiness.” He didn’t go into any more detail as he sat down to eat.
“You look tired, Chris,” Gwen said.
Christopher closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “I’m fine.”
“You might want to take a little nap today.” Gwen laid her napkin on her lap. “I’m certain Charity and I can entertain Hannah.”
“Gwendolyn,” her mother admonished.
Gwen ignored her mother as she smiled at Christopher. “What are your plans today, big brother?”
“I have a few things to attend to,” he answered vaguely.
“What things?” Gwen piped in.
“None of your business,” he snapped.
“I apologize, Christopher the Big.”
“Gwen, stop antagonizing your brother,” Mrs. Butler said.
Hannah watched the exchange in confusion. She got that Christopher was tired, but wasn’t exactly sure what the underlying reason for his irritability was. Gwen obviously knew something she didn’t.
When the meal concluded, Gwen and Hannah made their way into the parlor. Christopher followed, shooting Gwen a look, sending her back out the parlor door. He turned to Hannah. “How did you sleep?”
“Apparently better than you.” Hannah crossed her arms. “Why are you so tired?”
Christopher shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that. Is everything all right?”
Christopher nodded. “Yes, I just don’t sleep well.”
“I can relate.”
Christopher frowned. “You didn’t sleep well?”
“I slept perfectly last night, but I don’t typically. In fact, the last two nights are the first I’ve slept straight through in months.”
Stepping closer to her again, he raised his hand to her cheek. “What would cause you to not sleep?”
She pressed her hands against her belly.
Good morning, elephants, I had hoped you’d stay away today. Apparently not.
“Nothing of significance.” Hannah blushed from his attention and pushed his hand away. “Stop touching my face.”
He lowered his hand. “Why don’t you sleep well, Hannah?”
“Maybe because you’ve stolen my clothes,” she retorted.
“Meaning, no more personal questions?”
“You’re smarter than you look, Sir Knight.”
He chuckled.
“What caused you not to sleep well l
ast night?” she asked.
“Nothing of significance.”
“I guess I deserved that.” Walking to the window, she peered out on the winter scene before her.
“What would you like to do today?”
Rubbing her forehead, she turned to answer his question. “I’d like to go home.” His scowl indicated he didn’t like that answer. “You promised you’d help me, Christopher.”
“Yes, I did,” he grumbled.
Dropping her arms, she buried her shaking hands in her skirts. “Are you going back on your word?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, then, I need you to help me—or I’ll find someone else who will.”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. I’ll find someone.” She turned back toward the window.
Moving to stand next to her, Christopher laid his hand gently on her lower back. “Who will you find, Hannah?”
“I don’t know! Why are you being so difficult this morning?” He didn’t answer. Turning again, Hannah’s heart raced as she lifted her head and asked, “Are you going to stop me from leaving?”
“Of course not.” He ran his hands through his hair.
Hannah tried to gain some distance. “Forget it. This isn’t going anywhere. Did you locate my jeans and jacket?”
“I have already answered that, Hannah.”
“Thank you so much for speaking to me as though I were disobedient child,” Hannah snapped.
Gwen stepped back into the room.
“Gwen,” Christopher growled.
She turned right back around—Hannah didn’t miss the smile on her face—and walked out the door.
“What is your problem, you big bully?” Hannah poked a finger into his chest. “Don’t speak to your sister like that.”
“She needs to mind her own business.”
“And you need to be less of an arse!”
“What did you say?”
“I don’t stutter,” she snapped.
* * *
Just outside the parlor doors, Gwen tried her best not to laugh out loud as she listened to the interaction between her brother and Hannah. He’d met his match, and he didn’t appear to like it much. Her subterfuge was interrupted when she heard a knock at the front door. She went to open it. “Clayton, Emma! This is a nice surprise.”
“Sorry for the sudden visit, but I hoped Christopher might still be here. I need to discuss something with him,” Clayton said.
“Of course. He’s in the parlor.” She stepped back to let them in. “It’s lovely to see you as well, Emma.”
“I convinced Clay that I needed to see Maryland,” Emma said as Gwen hugged her. “I missed you.”
“Well, I’m glad for your company. I missed you too.” Gwen giggled. “We’ve had a bit of excitement around here.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “You have?”
“Yes, a young woman had an accident the other night and we found her in the barn.”
“My word, that’s unsettling.” Clayton looked quickly at Emma.
Gwen was leading them through the foyer when she heard Hannah and Chris shouting.
“Where are my clothes?” Hannah bellowed.
“I told you. They were disposed of.”
“And I told you, they were brand new. I want them back.”
Gwen heard a gasp behind her and stared in amazement as Emma rushed past her, into the parlor. “Hannah?”
* * *
Hannah turned, saw her friend, and faltered. Christopher was standing close enough to her to grab her elbow and steady her. He frowned at the new arrivals. “You know her?”
“Emma?” Hannah pulled her arm away and Emma rushed to her side.
“She’s a very close friend.” Emma hugged Hannah and then smiled. “Actually, more of a sister, really.”
“What are you doing here?” Hannah grasped Emma’s hand. “And why are you dressed like that?”
Emma sat down on the sofa and pulled Hannah down next to her. “Oh, Hannah, there’s so much to tell.”
Hannah swallowed and bit her lip.
I’m losing my mind!
Christopher frowned down at Emma. “She said your sister died.”
Emma sighed. “It’s a long story, Christopher. We’ll tell you all about it some other time.”
“What’s going on, Em?” Hannah whispered.
“So much,” she whispered back, then a little louder said, “Did you take the wrong train or disembark at the wrong place? You were supposed to get off at Union Station.”
“Eh?”
“Go with me, Han,” Emma whispered for her ears only. She raised her voice again. “Remember? You were supposed to catch the train at Camden station and then get off at Union.” Emma turned and smiled at Christopher. “She’s terrible with directions.” She turned back to Hannah. “When we got the message from your escort—”
“My escort?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, Mr. Porter said... uh... that he’d... uh... stopped for the night... uh, due to some trouble in the area, and after he made some enquiries, he returned to find you gone.”
“Eh?” Hannah choked out. “Um...”
“So you must have found your way here.” Emma clasped her fingers together. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”
Christopher raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Emma grinned, which didn’t help ease Hannah’s nerves. “Emma, stop.”
“Christopher?” Clayton said.
“Yes?” Christopher still watched Hannah closely.
“I need to speak with you.”
“Yes, all right.”
“Now,” Clayton pressed.
“Right.” Christopher shook himself out of his trance. “We’ll go to my father’s office.”
* * *
The men made their way down the hall to the office and Clayton sat as Christopher closed the door. “What’s going on?” Christopher leaned against his father’s desk.
“Thomas is asking more questions.”
“No, I mean with the missing woman,” Christopher snapped.
Clayton’s eyes widened. “Oh, right. Yes, it’s exactly how Emma said. We received an urgent missive from Mr. Parker—”
“I thought she said Mr. Porter?”
“Yes. Mr. Porter.” Clayton waved his hand in the air. “Never mind that. She’s obviously safe, and I’ll deal with Mr. Porter some other time. I came here to discuss the issue with Thomas.”
Thomas Burkett had been recruited into the war offices from New York. He’d begun to ask questions that raised several flags for Clayton, but Christopher was still unconvinced he was anything other than what he represented.
“I thought you said you came here looking for Hannah?” Christopher asked in suspicion.
“I was planning on coming anyway when we received the urgent wire.”
Christopher crossed his arms. “Were you?”
“I was.” Clayton frowned. “And you were the one who said you wanted to know about any new developments while you were here.”
“Yes, I was.” Christopher pushed away from the desk and paced the small room. “Fill me in.”
“Joseph received another message from General Sherman that appeared to have been opened before it was delivered. Thomas is the one delivering the messages, but we can’t prove he’s the one tampering with them.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Joseph also saw Thomas leaving the records room, which as you ordered, has limited access.”
Christopher continued to pace. “Mm-hmm.”
“We have discovered a new species of horse that can live under water.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Clayton chuckled. “Tell me about the girl.”
* * *
In the parlor, Emma hugged Hannah again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m knackered,” Hannah said, a little pathetically.
“I’ll bet. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to rest when we get home.”
Hannah frown
ed. “Home? Where is home?”
“As I said before...” Emma squeezed her hand. “Washington, D.C.”
“Wait... what? Seriously?” Hannah whispered.
“I’ll get some tea and sandwiches,” Gwen offered and rose to her feet.
Once Gwen left the room, Hannah stood and started to pace. “Emma? What is going on? I happen to have an impeccable sense of direction. It’s you who can’t find your way out of a cardboard box.”
Emma raised a hand. “Don’t freak out.”
“Freak out?” Hannah whispered furiously. “Tell me... right now!”
Emma stood and closed the distance between them. “We’ve been sent back in time.”
“No.” Hannah waved her hands in the air and shook her head. “No, no, no, no, no.”
“Han-Han, it’s true.”
“Is it really 1863?” she whispered. Emma nodded. “Sophie’s obsession, 1863?” Emma nodded again. Hannah bit her lip. “Who’s tall, blond, and handsome that you came in with?”
Emma smiled and let out a quiet sigh. “He’s my husband. Clayton.”
“Shut. Up.”
“No, you shut up.” Emma laughed.
“You’re putting me on.”
“I’m not. He really is.”
Hannah started to pace again. “This can’t be happening.”
“I know it’s a lot to process. But we can talk more in the carriage on the way home.”
“Carriage?” Hannah’s head whipped up. “You can’t be serious.”
Emma pursed her lips. “Yes, sweetie, carriage.”
“Did you ride in a carriage all the way here from D.C.?” Hannah paused. “Have you been in a carriage for days?”
Emma shook her head. “No. We took the train to Camden, which takes about forty-five minutes, then the trip here took about an hour.”
“Sophie made this era,” Hannah waved her hand, “all sound so different.”
“Yes, she’s figured out she doesn’t know everything there is to know about the Civil War.”
“No!” Hannah whispered sarcastically. “Wait... what do you mean, she’s figured out?”
Emma smiled. “She and Jamie are here.”
Hannah grasped the back of the sofa. “What?” she exclaimed a little louder than she meant to.