Last Cavaliers Trilogy

by Gilbert, Morris

  Nash threw himself down beside her, lying on his side and propping one arm on his bent knee.

  Jolie said, “Tell me about the battles, Nash. It must be terrible.”

  A frown marred his smooth features. “Yes, it is terrible. Much worse than I had imagined. It’s kinda hard to talk about. You can’t explain it. I think only people that have been in a battle really understand what it’s like.”

  “Oh,” she said in a small voice. “I apologize, Nash, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “You couldn’t do that if you were trying to,” he said warmly. “I’m always comfortable with you, Jolie. You’re smart and fun and sweet, and I like being with you very much. Jolie, I wanted to ask you something today. Would you come to my home this weekend and meet my mother? My father, you know, is a major, and he’s at camp in Richmond. But I’ve told my mother and my sister all about you, and they want to meet you.”

  Instantly Jolie became alert. This sort of thing, she had learned, was serious business. A Southern gentleman didn’t invite a young woman to meet his family unless the lady was considered marriageable. And as to her queries of her true feelings for Nash, seeing him had not defined them as she had hoped. “I–I’m not sure, Nash. You’ve sort of taken me by surprise.”

  “Please come,” he urged her. “You’ll like my family, I’m sure. We’ve got a big house, plenty of servants, and a bridle path in the woods nearby. You can bring Rowena,” he said slyly.

  “I’ll have to ask Mr. Tremayne. I don’t know if he’ll give me permission.”

  “Sure he will. Morgan knows my family. It’s all perfectly nice and proper. How about if I bring the carriage Friday morning? I’ll bring a groom to ride Rowena. And you can stay the night, and I’ll bring you back Saturday morning. You’ll enjoy it, Jolie. You’ll see. My mother’s kind of stuffy, like old Morgan, but my sister is lots of fun. And of course, I am superbly entertaining,” he finished loftily.

  She punched him lightly on the arm. “Silly thing. All right, Nash. If Mr. Tremayne gives me permission, I’ll come.”

  They went back into the house, talking a mile a minute. Morgan had several maps in his study, and Nash showed Jolie where his family’s plantation was.

  After another half hour, Morgan came in from his morning ride. “Morning, Nash. What are you two cooking up?”

  “Nash has asked me to come meet his family this Friday and Saturday,” Jolie said excitedly. “May I have permission to go?”

  Morgan stared at Nash, considering. “So you want to take Jolie to meet your mother and sister. I assume Major Southall and Blair are still in camp.”

  Nash nodded. “But it’s perfectly proper. You know that, Morgan. My mother’s anxious to meet Jolie.”

  For a moment Jolie thought that Morgan intended to say no. She had learned to read his expressions so easily, and now she saw that he was opposed to the idea of her going.

  He looked at Jolie and asked abruptly, “Is this what you want to do, Jolie?”

  “I think it would be nice…if it’s all right with you.”

  Morgan hesitated, studying them thoughtfully. Finally he shrugged and said, “All right then, you may go. Nash, I’m warning you—”

  Nash held up one slim hand and said, “I know, I know. If anything happens to Jolie, you’ll kill me in some awful way. She’ll be fine, Morgan. I’ll take good care of her.”

  “You’d better,” Morgan rasped. “I mean it.”

  “I know,” Nash said, now soberly. “I mean it, too. I’ll take good care of her. After all, she’s my girl.”

  The grand five-glassed barouche pulled up in front of Maiden’s Way, the Southall mansion, and Jolie was impressed. It was a beautiful home with tall white columns along the wide portico of the main hall, which was two stories. Two long, low graceful wings were on each side.

  A dignified woman with snowy-white hair and a young blond woman with an hourglass figure came out to meet them.

  Nash helped Jolie down and performed the proper, intricate introductions.

  Mrs. Southall immediately took Jolie’s arm, and his sister, Leila, took the other. “I’m so looking forward to finally getting to know you, Miss DeForge. I’ve heard so much about you from both of my boys. They tell me that you are an excellent nurse. And you’re the first young woman that Nash has ever brought home,” Mrs. Southall said.

  Leila said, “Yes, we were very surprised. Nash has had several lady friends, as young as he is. But this is the first time he’s shown much interest.”

  Jolie thought this was said in a somewhat snobbish manner, but she didn’t want to judge Leila Southall after ten seconds of acquaintance. “Nash is a fine young man. I know you must be very proud of him, and Blair, too.”

  A shadow crossed Mrs. Southall’s face, and she replied automatically, “Of course we are proud of our sons. Major Southall knew they would make fine soldiers.”

  Too late, Jolie remembered that it wasn’t considered ladylike to call young gentlemen by their given names. She was beginning to think that this might not be as much fun as she had thought it would be.

  They entered the grand foyer. A flying staircase with an ornate black wrought-iron banister soared up to the second floor. A maid in a black dress, white apron, and white cap curtsied as Mrs. Southall led Jolie to the foot of the staircase.

  “Lindy will show you to your room, where you can freshen up, my dear. I’ve had a light luncheon prepared, so we’ll expect you back down in about half an hour.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Southall,” Jolie said and followed the maid upstairs. Her room had an enormous grand tester bed, an armoire that would hold a year’s wardrobe, and a dressing table with a triple mirror mounted on it. Jolie took off her bonnet and jacket, splashed her face with the cool scented water in the washbowl, and patted her hair. Nervously she wondered how many minutes had gone by, and she decided to venture back downstairs right away.

  Lindy was waiting for her and silently conducted her to a grand dining room.

  The table seated eighteen, and Jolie saw with a sinking heart that she was stranded in the middle, across from Leila, while Mrs. Southall was at the head and Nash at the foot. He seemed miles away. But he smiled reassuringly to her then said a blessing.

  As soon as he finished, Mrs. Southall began questioning Jolie. “I’ve only met Mr. Tremayne once, when he came to a large party here at Maiden’s Way. I’m afraid I wasn’t able to talk to him extensively. Tell me, dear, are you in fact a blood relative of his?”

  “No, ma’am. My mother died in childbirth, and my father, Henry DeForge, died three years ago. At that time, Mr. Tremayne became my guardian.”

  “I see,” Mrs. Southall said, although it was plain that she didn’t. “And was your father able to leave you any kind of legacy?”

  Jolie thought that this was positively rude, so she merely said politely, “Yes, ma’am.”

  The silence after this was very awkward for a few moments, but Jolie didn’t care.

  Finally Nash spoke up. “You know, I brought Jolie’s mare. We’re planning on going riding after luncheon. Leila, would you like to go with us?”

  “Good heavens, no. It’s much too warm for such physical activity. I’m going to take a nap,” Leila answered in a bored tone.

  Mrs. Southall said thoughtfully, “I think I’ll just pop over and visit Amelia Blankenship this afternoon. If you don’t feel I’m neglecting our guest, Nash.”

  “She’s my guest, Mother,” Nash said with a touch of impatience. “Don’t worry. We’ve got a busy afternoon planned.”

  “Do you,” she said evenly. “That’s fine. Just please don’t be late for dinner, Nash. Eight o’clock sharp.”

  “Just like it’s been my whole life,” he said, grinning crookedly. “I think I’ve got it now, Mother. Eight o’clock sharp.”

  Finally they finished the sandwiches and slices of tart apples with cheese, and Jolie and Nash were able to go riding. They rode around some of the cotton fields. Already they
were beginning to bloom. Everywhere Jolie looked, she saw orderly rows of the dark shrubs with their virginal white flowers. It amused Nash that she thought cotton fields were pretty.

  The woods that were part of the plantation were carefully manicured, and Nash and Jolie dismounted and walked for a long time. Jolie picked long vines of the wild jasmine and trimmed her hat with them. The sweet scent filled the air wherever she went.

  At about six o’clock, they started back toward the house. When they came up the long drive, Nash said, “I don’t see a servant in sight. Oh, well. You go on in, Jolie, and I’ll take the horses around to the stables.”

  As Jolie went inside, she could hear Mrs. Southall and Leila talking in the parlor.

  “I tell you, Leila,” Mrs. Southall was saying, “it’s the same girl.”

  “It can’t be, Mother!”

  “I tell you it is! Mrs. Blankenship told me, and you know she knows about everybody and everything in the county.”

  “And she said what about this girl?”

  “Her mother was black.”

  “I can’t believe it! She looks as white as we are.”

  “But she’s not. She’s an octoroon, Amelia said. In fact, she says that she told me all about Henry DeForge and Jolie when he died, and that Morgan Tremayne had taken her in. But somehow I suppose I didn’t connect the story with the girl Nash has been telling us about, until this afternoon when she named Mr. DeForge as her father. Good heavens, Nash can’t possibly know the girl has black blood in her!”

  Jolie heard all she needed to hear and went at once to her room. That night at supper she could barely speak. She suffered through the evening and went to bed, and the next morning she insisted that Nash take her home, very early before his mother and sister had even gotten up.

  Nash noticed that Jolie was disturbed, and he asked, “What’s wrong, Jolie?”

  “I don’t want you to come and see me anymore, Nash.”

  “What have I done?” he asked with amazement. “I haven’t hurt your feelings somehow, have I?”

  Jolie knew that he would have to know the truth. “I’m an octoroon. You didn’t know that, did you?”

  Nash swallowed hard. “You–you’re part black?”

  “One-eighth black, and your mother found out about it yesterday. I’m not welcome here, Nash. I would never be welcome here.”

  “I don’t care if you’re an octoroon,” Nash insisted. “That doesn’t make one bit of difference to me.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, but you have to consider your family. So, find you a nice young woman who has no black blood and court her. Like I said, I don’t think I want you to come visit me again, Nash. It’s just not meant to be.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Why, it’s you—Miss Jolie, isn’t it?”

  Jolie had come into Fredericksburg without Morgan for the first time. She was determined to buy a gift for Morgan, since he had given her Rowena and her saddle. She was peering into the window of a tailor’s shop when she heard her name called.

  She turned and saw a Confederate officer coming toward her. “Why, Colonel Seaforth, it’s good to see you.”

  At Bull Run, Colonel Seaforth’s two boys, Edward and Billy, had been wounded, and they were two of the men that Amon had loaded up into the wagon and brought to Rapidan Run. Colonel Seaforth had come by to thank them all for taking such good care of his sons. “It’s good to see you, too, Miss Jolie.”

  Jolie saw that the colonel’s face was marked with strain, and she knew at once that something was wrong. “Is something troubling you, colonel?” she asked quietly.

  “I’m afraid it is. My youngest boy, Billy. He was wounded in action three days ago.”

  “Not seriously I hope.”

  Seaforth dropped his eyes and stared at the ground as if he was trying to find exactly the right words, and finally when he raised his head, misery was in his eyes. “It’s very serious, Miss Jolie. He’s here, at the hospital.”

  “Where is he wounded?”

  “It’s a stomach wound.”

  Jolie did not answer for a moment for an alarm sounded in her spirit. She had heard enough talk about wounds to know that a stomach wound was almost always fatal. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’d like to go see him. Do you think that would be all right?”

  “Oh, yes. He needs somebody to cheer him up. His mother is here, and we take turns, but my wife isn’t too well, and this has just almost killed her.”

  “What about Edward?”

  “Oh, he’s fine. He’s off at Chattanooga right now with his unit, so he can’t be here. Could you come now, do you think?”

  “Why, of course I could, Colonel. My friend Amon is just down the street, waiting for me with the wagon. Let me go talk to him.” She went and told Amon, “I’m going to go to the hospital to visit Billy Seaforth. You remember him? He’s wounded again, and it sounds serious this time.”

  Amon nodded. “I know where the hospital is, Miss Jolie. I’ll take you and wait.”

  Jolie climbed up into the wagon, and Colonel Seaforth paced his horse alongside. He was silent, and Jolie knew that this was indeed likely to be a trying visit.

  Colonel Seaforth pulled his horse up in front of the hospital. “If you’ll go on in, Miss Jolie, I’ll go hitch up my horse and show your man where to park the wagon.”

  Jolie went inside and was shocked by the odor. The place was a beehive of activity, with doctors and nurses scurrying from one patient to the other. Colonel Seaforth joined her, and Jolie said, “Why, there are some patients out in the hall, Colonel.”

  “It’s that way in every hospital in Virginia,” he said sadly. “I wish we could have gotten Billy a room, but there’s no such thing anymore.”

  They made their way through the hospital until finally they arrived at a corridor divided off into wards. “Right in here, Miss Jolie,” Seaforth said. They went inside, and Colonel Seaforth led her through the maze of beds. He stopped and said to the woman sitting beside a soldier, “Amy, this is Miss Jolie DeForge. You remember, she took care of Billy and Edward when they were wounded. This is my wife, Amy.”

  “I’m so sorry about Billy, Mrs. Seaforth,” Jolie said. Her eyes went to the figure of the young man on the bed. She was shocked at the pallor of his face. He had a sheet over him, but she could see that the blood had seeped out from under the bandages and stained the sheets underneath him.

  Amy Seaforth looked up, her eyes filled with tears. She was a frail woman with silvery hair, and she looked thin and gaunt.

  “You look absolutely exhausted, Mrs. Seaforth. Why don’t you go and get some rest, and you, too, Colonel. I’ll stay right here with Billy.”

  Colonel Seaforth said with relief, “I’ve been trying to get her to do that. Come along, dear. Miss DeForge is a wonderful nurse.”

  “All right. I do think I could rest a little,” she said.

  “You take as long as you want,” Jolie said firmly. “I’ll be right here.”

  The two left, and Jolie sat down beside Billy. His face was flushed, and she put her hand on his forehead. He’s got a fever. I need to bring that down if I can.

  She’d had this problem when she’d taken care of the the wounded men. She knew that the only cure for fever was to take cool, wet cloths and bathe the body. She waited until an orderly went by and said, “I need to get some clean water and some cloths to try to bring this man’s fever down.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the orderly said. He had a harried look on his face and was carrying a filthy mop and a bucket. “You’ll have to see Mrs. Franklin for that.”

  “Where will I find her?”

  “That’s her right over there. See? The little woman.” He added with a grimace, “With the fussy look on her face.”

  Jolie did not know the woman, but she found out that Mrs. Beverly Franklin had gone straight to Jefferson Davis and gotten a letter from him that said, “Mrs. Beverly Franklin will be in charge of Unit B. Medical personnel will give her full
cooperation.” The physicians in charge resented her. The orderlies hated her. But she had given good service and had collected a group of women from town who helped her.

  “Mrs. Franklin?”

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “My name is Jolie DeForge. I would like to try to bring Billy Seaforth’s fever down if I could. All I need would be some water and some cloths.”

  Mrs. Franklin stared at her. “Are you a nurse?”

  “No, not really, but I took care of Billy and his brother Edward when they were wounded before.”

  “At the hospital?”

  “No, ma’am, we took them home.”

  Beverly Franklin’s voice was strained, and she was pale with exhaustion. “If you really want to take care of him and you have a place, then I suggest that you take him there.”

  “Out of the hospital?”

  “Look around you. You see how little personal care each man gets. We have to go from one to the other.” She hesitated and then added, “He’s gravely wounded. The doctors don’t offer much hope.”

  Instantly Jolie made up her mind. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll bring my driver in, and if you can get some help, we’ll load him in the wagon. We’ll take good care of him at our house.”

  “That would be best. I wish we had a place like that for all the seriously wounded. If you like, I’ll send a messenger to Colonel Seaforth to let him know that you’ve taken Billy to your home.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Thirty minutes later Jolie was in the wagon. She had made a bed for Billy in the back, and instead of riding in the seat next to Amon, she sat down in the wagon bed and put his head in her lap. As they left the hospital, she leaned over and whispered, “Billy, you’re going home with us.”

  “Who is this?” Billy muttered.

  “It’s Jolie.”

  “Jolie? You’re going to take care of me?”

  “Yes, I am, Billy. Now you just lie still and rest. We’ll be at Rapidan Run soon.”

  The sun was low in the sky when Amon pulled up in front of the ranch house.