Lavinia brought her chin up, her ruby lips forming a perfectly annoying pout. “Just like old times, isn’t it, Peyton?”
In more ways than you know. He glanced over her head, pleased to see smiles on his guests’ faces. “One thing, however, is very different, Lavinia. I’m a married man now.”
“And I’m still available. You might want to remember that if you get bored.”
“Why would I get bored?” Peyton watched the suggestive grin slip from Lavinia’s face. There was no doubt she’d enjoy seeing him fall from grace. However, when it came to Lavinia Monteague, Peyton’s self-control was stronger than the Union and Confederate armies combined. “Carrie and I love each other.”
“And she has good reason to love you or say she loves you, namely your inheritance, which, I might add, should be mine!”
Peyton resisted the urge to reply to her hissed accusation. Instead, he searched the room for his bride, but didn’t see her anywhere. He spotted Tabitha, Aunt Ruth, Meredith, Vern, and even Reverend Bidwell. A deep unsettling began gnawing at his gut.
As Lavinia prattled on, Peyton waved over a young lieutenant, who gallantly accepted the handoff. Peyton caught Lavinia’s scowl before heading for the doorway. Had Carrie seen him dance with Lavinia and jumped to incorrect conclusions? Was she in the library? The parlor? Or had she retreated to her room to rest? In any case, something didn’t feel right.
Peyton set off to locate his bride.
CHAPTER 24
“Tell me this is some joke, Carrie Ann, and that you didn’t really marry a Yankee colonel.”
“Let go of me!” Carrie had stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, only to be rudely accosted by Joshua. Dressed in ragged attire, he resembled one of the poor local farmers.
What a night for him to turn up on the Colliers’ doorstep!
Carrie jerked her arm in an attempt to free it, but Joshua held fast as he walked her briskly across the back yard. “Peyton is going to wonder where I am.”
“I doubt it. He’s dancing with every pretty lady in the room, and probably flirting with them too.”
“How dare you say that? You don’t know Peyton.”
“I know of him.” Joshua gave her arm a painful yank. “The man’s a scoundrel, Carrie Ann.”
“A reformed scoundrel … and you’re hurting me!”
“Carrie Ann, men like that don’t ever change.”
She tried prying open his hold. “Let me go!”
Joshua ignored her demand and half dragged her through the tree line and toward the wooden footbridge that spanned a narrow ravine.
“You’re going to ruin my dress.”
“What a sorry shame that would be. Your family and friends in Woodstock might be starving, but you’re worried about your dress.”
“Let go!” she cried again. What a simpleton she’d been to think she knew him—that he was still her friend. He even looked like a different man with that beard covering the lower half of his face.
At last he stopped. “I have a good mind to take you home right now, Carrie Ann, and put you on public display. The town will stone you. You’re a traitor. Unfortunately, it ain’t possible to make the trip at the present time. Do you have any idea what’s happening in the upper Valley near Woodstock? Sheridan and his men are burning everything, robbing citizens of their livestock, and ravishing the womenfolk.”
“That’s a lie.” Part of it, anyway.
“Yankees are killing every man over sixteen and taking boys off to jail.”
Carrie hadn’t heard that before. “If I were back home, Joshua, what would I do? Would I be able to save anyone’s farm from General Grant’s orders?”
He didn’t seem to have an answer to that.
“So you’ve given up on us in the Valley, eh? The people you once loved, the country you were born and raised in? You’ve swallowed all those Yankee lies, right along with all that rich food you’re eating.” He squeezed her upper arm. “You’re looking downright plump, Carrie Ann.”
She slapped his hand away. “So what if I am?”
“So what?” He gave her a shake. “So what?” The words sounded as though they came through a clenched jaw. “Look at you, all dressed up in that pretty gown while your sister lies ill in a tumbledown tavern. Have you no shame?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sarah Jane, that’s what I’m talking about. You asked me to keep an eye out for her, remember? Or is it just yourself you think about these days?”
“You know that’s not true. I risked my life to find her.”
“You’re not the only one. Why do you think I’d be such a fool as to walk in under Collier’s nose tonight? It was the fastest way to get the news to you.”
“Joshua, tell me. Where is she?”
“She’s in a town twenty miles north of here called Martinsburg. She’s being cared for at a place called the Sundowner Tavern. Sarah Jane turned up there about a week ago, beaten and suffering with a fever. She was mumbling nonsense, like she was out of her head.”
A flash of memory surfaced. Her mother—stepmother—uttering gibberish after the farm burned.
“I left some money to help pay for her keep, but it won’t last long. Carrie Ann, you’ll need to fetch her soon.”
“I will.” She felt like sprinting to Martinsburg this minute. “I promise.”
“Good.” Joshua gave a nod and put his hands on his hips. “Hurry and change your clothes. I’ll wait.”
“I can’t leave right this minute, although I’d like to for Sarah Jane’s sake. It’s my wedding day.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you gotta wait until your honeymoon is over—”
“I need to speak with Peyton.”
“And you think that he’ll approve?” Joshua’s sugary-sweet tone had a vinegar edge to it. “So tell me, Carrie Ann, why did you marry the enemy? Money?”
“Peyton is not my enemy. I have always been independent minded, remember? Like my papa.” Sheer defiance propelled her on; she wouldn’t allow Joshua to cow her. She lifted her chin. “Besides, I love Peyton. That’s the plain truth and all the reason you need to know.”
“Love?” Joshua guffawed. “What do you know about love? You up and married the first man who showed you some interest.”
“Peyton loves me too.”
Joshua gripped her chin in a painful hold. “Don’t come crying to me when that Yankee breaks your heart. You hear?”
He released her forcibly and Carrie stumbled back a few paces. Tears sprang to her eyes. “I hate you!”
The venomous words flew out of her mouth before she could think better of them. She regretted them instantly, but maybe she did hate him—for being a Confederate spy or worse, for doing Rodingham’s bidding and treating her roughly. Yes, for that Carrie despised him!
God forgive me …
Joshua fell silent. The only sound was the faint rustle of the leafy treetops as the wind blew through them.
“I never thought I’d hear such a thing from you, Carrie Ann. Not ever.”
“I never thought you’d hurt me.”
“You mean just now?”
Carrie’s fingertips touched the bruised places on her face. “Yes.”
Joshua chuckled. “I’ve done worse to you, and you about licked me nearly a half-dozen times in the past.”
“I’m no longer a child and a tomboy.”
“So I noticed.” Silence passed between them. “But you’re not my friend anymore either, are you?”
Carrie shivered. “I’m cold. I want to go back to the house.”
“I’ll always think of you as my little sister, Carrie Ann.” Joshua continued to block her way. “But I didn’t get an invitation to your wedding celebration.”
“For obvious reasons. You, sir, are my husband’s enemy.”
“What about your enemy, Carrie Ann? Are we still friends?” His tone had softened. “Tell me. Do you truly hate me or are we friends?”
“I don’t know. You
confuse me. You’re kind and then you’re cruel. Are you a Confederate spy? A bushwhacker? Or are you a Union scout?”
“I’m Major John Brown. That’s all you have to know, and I’m holding you to your promise that you’ll keep quiet about my true identity.”
“Well, know this: I will never lie to Peyton.” Her whole body stiffened with determination.
“I’m not asking you to lie. Just keep your mouth shut.”
She tried to step around him.
He matched her stride. “I found Sarah Jane, just like you asked. Now you owe me.”
“I already gave you my word.”
“You’ll keep quiet?”
“Yes, yes, for finding my sister, I will … now let me pass or I’ll tell my husband what a rogue you are, Major John Brown.”
Somewhere behind Joshua, leaves crunched beneath heavy footfalls. He quickly slipped around Carrie, standing behind her as if she were a human shield.
“How very unchivalrous of you.”
“A safety precaution is all.” He jabbed the barrel of his pistol into her ribs.
A heartbeat later, Peyton came into view. The cocking of weaponry cracked across the ravine, indicating Peyton wasn’t alone.
“Carrie, are you all right?” Peyton halted on the edge of the ravine.
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
The pressure from the barrel of Joshua’s gun disappeared, and she heard him holster his weapon. Carrie breathed easier.
Peyton held out one hand. Joshua had no hold on her now, so she ran to her new husband. Enveloped in Peyton’s embrace, Carrie lost her resolve and buried her face in his coat and sobbed.
“You’re safe now, my love,” Peyton whispered.
She shuttered at the very thought of what might have occurred tonight. Clinging to Peyton, she peeked at her childhood friend. He stood with his hands in surrender while two Federal vedettes searched him.
Peyton’s hold tightened around her. “How dare you force my wife to stand in the night air without her shawl, Major Brown? And to take her to a secluded place against her will? This is an outrage!”
“My apologies, sir.” Joshua didn’t sound a bit shaken—or contrite, for that matter. “I merely wanted to explain to Mrs. Collier why I wasn’t able to return to the Union camp as you instructed.”
“Your explanation should have been made to me directly. My wife had nothing to do with the orders I gave you.” With a protective arm around Carrie, he waved an armed picket forward. “Sergeant, arrest this man and charge him with attempting to kidnap an officer’s wife.”
“Yes, sir,” came the vedette’s enthusiastic reply.
The soldier moved toward Joshua just as another guard stepped out of the shadows. Both men trained the barrels of their guns on Joshua.
“Peyton, don’t let any harm come to Major Brown.” Joshua had found Sarah Jane for her, after all. She’d keep his identity a secret but she had to tell Peyton about her youngest sister’s whereabouts. “Please, Peyton?”
He gently pushed her back, his face near hers. “You want me to show leniency to a man who stole you away from our wedding celebration and frightened you? Just look how you’re shaking.”
As if to prove the foolishness of her request, Carrie shuddered. “I c-can explain. Later. Much later. We have guests waiting.”
“Of course. Let’s get you into the house and in front of a fire.”
She welcomed his snug hold around her shoulders as he guided her toward the house.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“Yes.” Contrary to her reply, she massaged her injured forearm.
“You are hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?” After pausing on the back porch, Peyton gently inspected the wrist that she’d hurt in August.
“It’s nothing, really.”
He cupped her face with one hand, gliding his thumb across her cheek. Carrie preferred his tenderness over Joshua’s gruffness.
“I searched the house for you, but you’d vanished.” He kissed her forehead before pulling her into an embrace. “Fortunately, Tommy was tending to our guests’ horses and overheard your protests. He came and got me right away.”
She wrapped her arms around his midsection and placed her ear on his chest. She heard his heartbeats, strong and steady. Ironically, it used to be Joshua coming to her rescue when they were children. But now it seemed her childhood friend was now her enemy.
“Why didn’t you scream for help?”
“It didn’t occur to me. I suppose I’ve grown accustomed to handling confrontations on my own.”
“I suppose you have.” Peyton’s calm soothed her jangled nerves. “Your courage is one of the things I admire about you, although it puts a scare into me at the same time.”
She wondered why.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Carrie?” Holding her at arm’s length, he peered into her face. “If you’d like to rest, I can explain your absence to our guests.”
“No, I’m fine. A bit shaken, but unharmed.”
“Good, because I’d like a dance with my bride.”
Pushing aside all the unpleasantness, she smiled. “And I would very much enjoy dancing with my husband.”
Carrie quelled the desire to travel to Martinsburg and collect Sarah Jane. The news about her sister could wait until morning. Joshua said she was getting the care she needed. And this, after all, was her wedding night.
Ruth had checked the parlor, the dining room, the music room, and the library, but Frances was nowhere to be found. She’d been sure her irksome neighbor would have stayed until all the food and champagne were gone. How odd that she’d only stayed for the better part of an hour. Something was wrong.
Back in the music room, Ruth spotted Lavinia in her glory with four officers in attendance. “Excuse me, Miss Monteague, may I have a word?” She relished the formality, grateful Carrie Ann was her niece by marriage.
Oh, my, how close we came …
Lavinia tore herself away from her admirers. “Yes, what is it?”
“Is your mother ill?”
“Mama?” Lavinia waved a hand. “Her health is fine, thank you.” She turned toward the officers, but Ruth halted her.
“She left the party so quickly. Is something amiss next door?”
A dramatic sigh. “Oh, I suppose you’ll find out soon enough.” She lifted her fan so as not to be overheard. “Edward died tonight. He was wounded in that last Winchester battle.”
“What terrible news!” And it was news, all right. Ruth’s hand fluttered to her neckline. Edward, that spoiled, pampered brat who had participated in Samuel’s death and the burning of their barn and stables had been killed. “Tragic.”
“Horribly. But I’m grateful that a couple of Edward’s faithful comrades brought him home when it was clear he would not recover.” A shadow crept across Lavinia’s face and an uncharacteristic sorrow filled her dark eyes. “We hid the men in our home because no sooner did they bring us Edward when our entire downstairs filled with invaders and their wounded.”
Ruth gasped. “You harbored Rebels in your home?”
“The same way you’ve harbored Yankees in yours over the years. I trust you’ll keep our secret as we’ve kept yours.”
She gave a curt nod. “I’ll say nothing.”
“Good.” Lavinia kept her voice above a whisper. “To answer your initial question, Mama left the party so she’d be home when the undertaker arrived.”
“Please accept my condolences.”
“Thank you.” Lavinia glanced at the officers who were now chatting with several young ladies. Her expression fell at her missed opportunity. And then something else glimmered in her eyes. Was it fear or perhaps desperation?
Ruth couldn’t blame Lavinia for feeling insecure and frightened. Peyton’s marriage combined with Edward’s death must have caused Lavinia to realize her precarious position in life. If the South lost the war, her remaining brother would be bankrupt—and Lavinia, unmarried and vulnera
ble, might be left destitute.
Ruth knew the feeling all too well. In ’62 when General Jackson routed the Union army from the Valley, it looked as if the CSA might prevail. And then this past summer … so many lives lost as General Grant pressed on with his Overland Campaign. Nearly forty thousand men dead after The Wilderness and Spotsylvania Courthouse battles with no decisive winner. And then the loss at Cold Harbor …
Yes, all did seem lost back then.
“Lavinia dear, I’ll see to it that food is brought over for you and your mother and any mourners who might stop in.” It was the least Ruth could do.
“The last thing we want is a loyalist’s pity.”
“You’ll get none of that, I assure you.”
Again, Lavinia glanced over her shoulder at the mingling officers. It appeared she had one particular blond lieutenant in her sight.
“His name is Luther Heffinger,” Ruth offered.
“I have learned his name, thank you anyway.”
“His father is German and owns a shoe factory in Chicago.”
“A shoe factory? Imagine that.” Interest sparked in Lavinia’s dark gaze. “Is he rich?”
“Unfortunately, no. With the economy such as it is, the factory contracted with the federal government, and it is manufacturing boots for the troops instead of fashionable shoes.”
A groan from Ruth’s young neighbor. “Wouldn’t it just figure?”
“Now, Lavinia, take heart. Who’s to say the factory won’t rally after the war?” Ruth arched a brow. “I encourage you to look to the future, my dear.”
“Is that what you do?”
Before she could reply, movement in the center of the music room drew Ruth’s attention. Peyton gathered Carrie Ann in his arms and the couple began to waltz. What a fine sight they made, Carrie gazing adoringly up into Peyton’s smiling face. He held her gently yet possessively, as if she were a rare treasure, which indeed she was. And then … mercy! The rascal kissed her right on the mouth.
Lifting a lacy gloved hand to her lips, Ruth laughed softly. “Yes, Lavinia, I focus on the future.” It looked bright indeed.
Ruth’s gaze traveled around the room. Some older women fanned themselves, aghast at Peyton’s actions. Many of the men chuckled. A few officers even had the audacity to applaud. Soon other couples joined the bride and groom, and the room became a sea of colorful hooped skirts and dark blue uniforms.
A Thousand Shall Fall Page 26