The Rebel Spy

by April London

  When she emerged he heard the trunk open in the corner. “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  She dropped back onto her backside. “Dammit. Don’t startle me.” She rose back to her knees and fumbled with the clothes around inside the trunk. “I’m looking for something to put on. It’s freezing.” Her teeth rattled.

  He threw the coverlet aside and stalked across the room. “Here. Put this on.” He grabbed a robe from the back of the chair where he’d tossed his jacket the night before and held it open for her.

  She pushed her shivering arms into it. “Thank you.” She snuggled into the thick housecoat.

  “Cook hasn’t lit the fires yet in the kitchen. Once she does, the room will warm up.” James rubbed her arms.

  “You aren’t cold?” Tamsyn asked through clenched teeth.

  “You look better in this than I ever did.”

  She blushed under his gaze. He pulled her back toward the bed, watching the way the coat opened to reveal flashes of her leg.

  Definitely not cold.

  His body responded to the flashes of her skin. “I have to meet my father at the shipyard this morning.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “What time should I be ready?” she asked, licking her lips.

  “I need you to stay here.” He was still reluctant to leave her behind. “The ladies will be about. You won’t be alone.”

  “When are you leaving?” Her gaze was fixated below his waist.

  “Soon.” He reached to brush a loose strand of her hair away from her face. “Don’t hide up here—”

  His words were lost when her honey blonde head tilted forward. Her lips wrapped around his cock.

  He sucked in a sharp breath. He gripped her hair, guiding her mouth into a slow rhythm. Her tongue moved in slow circles.

  She sucked hard along his cock. Her nails grazed the front of his thighs and using his hands he urged her to increase her rhythm. His head tilted back and his eyes closed. Never had a woman taken him into her mouth with such eagerness.

  When her delicate hand reached to cup his sac he thought he would explode into her mouth. Fighting to stay in control, he popped his cock from her lips.

  He grabbed her arms and pulled her to stand. “Turn around,” he whispered.

  She turned to face the bed and he grabbed the hem of the robe. James pushed her forward onto the mattress with one hand and used the other to guide his pulsing hard-on into her entrance. She shifted her legs to accommodate him.

  Moisture was slick on her thighs. She was ready. Eager even.

  He plunged into her.

  Her soft cry of pleasure urged him on. Grasping her hand he guided her fingers between her legs and rolled them over her own sex. His fingers curved around her hips and he thrust into her.

  Her soft cries grew louder. Her climax roared across her body. The spasms shuddered through her.

  He increased his speed and stopped fighting for control. His seed spilled deep inside her.

  She continued to breath heavy, facedown on the bed. “I-I didn’t know it could be done l-like that.” She blushed.

  He kissed her cheek. “I have to get ready. Sleep in if you’d like. I’ll be back for lunch.”

  ****

  Tamsyn adjusted the sleeves of the dark dress and took a deep breath. She’d hidden in James’s room until the grumblings of hunger drove her to dress. She’d chosen the more conservative of the two James had purchased for her in Philadelphia.

  Opening the door, she peered into the hallway and breathed a sigh of relief. Empty. She wasn’t eager to come face to face with any one of Steele family. She slipped down the stairs and turned the corner.

  “Good morning, Tamsyn.”

  Abigail stood on her tiptoes in the dining room, pulling several cups and saucers from the large china cabinet in the corner.

  “Good morning.” Tamsyn returned the bright smile.

  “I was just on my way up to find you.” Abigail pulled half a dozen plates down from the top shelf and placed them carefully on the table. “We’re all in the garden having tea. Come and join us.”

  “Can I help you carry something?”

  “Oh, yes, thank you.” She passed the plates to Tamsyn and lifted the tray of cups. “I trust you slept well last night?” Abigail winked.

  Heat rush to her face and Abigail giggled. “Perhaps I’ll just have something in the kitchen.” Tamsyn moved to set the plates on the table.

  “Oh, no, Tamsyn. I am very sorry.” Deep brown eyes were filled with remorse. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  Tamsyn smiled at the young woman’s sincerity.

  “Please join us,” Abigail begged. “I would like for you to meet our neighbor, Suzette.”

  “All right.” Tamsyn took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Abigail smiled and led her through the kitchen and out a narrow back door.

  A cool breeze brushed by her. Her eyes adjusted to the bright sun of the spring morning. A narrow fenced-in backyard had been converted to a beautiful and well-tended garden.

  The sharp fragrance of several spring flowers assaulted her nose at once. Tamsyn sneezed.

  “À tes souhaits!”

  Tamsyn stumbled to a halt.

  “Bless you.” The heavily accented voice spoke again.

  “Thank you.” Tamsyn smiled at the tiny woman who stood to take the plates from her.

  “I tell Madame Steele every spring, the flowers, they are beautiful but, zut, l’odeur est tres mal.” She clucked her tongue and set the plates on the small table.

  The woman winked in Mrs. Steele’s direction.

  “Suzette, Mama knows you sneak into the garden at night to cut the flowers for your perfume,” Abigail teased.

  “I tell you, night is the best time to cut them. Am I not right, Mrs. Steele?” Suzette returned to her seat next to James’s mother.

  “I still think you should pay for those flowers,” Hester grumbled from her seat.

  “Mon Dieu, Hester, I take only one each time!”

  “Hester, there are plenty of flowers in the garden. Mrs. Barlow is welcome to take as many as she would like for her…ah…experiments.” Mrs. Steele cast a sharp glance at Hester.

  “Tamsyn, this is our neighbor, Suzette Barlow.” Abigail interceded to make the introductions. “Suzette, this is Tamsyn Moody.”

  “So you’re the friend of Mr. James who has the help gossiping in the alley between the houses.” Suzette looked Tamsyn over.

  “Tamsyn, please, join us.” Mrs. Steele nodded to the open seat on the other side of her. “We were discussing Abigail’s newest suitor.”

  “Abigail has a suitor?” Tamsyn looked across at the young girl. With her bright red hair loose around her shoulders, Tamsyn found it hard to believe the girl was old enough to be courting.

  “One of many.” Suzette giggled.

  Abigail blushed crimson until her face matched her hair.

  “I gave you my opinion,” Hester injected. She glared across the table at Tamsyn. “You shouldn’t be seen in the company of such a low-class rogue. You will ruin your reputation.”

  “Edward isn’t a low-class rogue.” Abigail’s eyes flashed with hurt. She turned away from her sister-in-law to watch Robert push the gate open and rush into the garden. Four children were in hot pursuit behind him.

  “Abigail, he’s an immigrant. He has no ties here and no prospects—”

  “That’s enough, Hester.” Mrs. Steele motioned for Abigail to pour the tea.

  Hester’s lips narrowed into a thin line, and she leaned back into her seat.

  “Abigail is only casting about for her first prospect. Tamsyn, my son mentioned you are a widow.” Mrs. Steele sipped her tea. “My condolences on your loss.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Tamsyn wondered when James had mentioned it to his mother.

  “Suzette is a widow as well.” Mrs. Steele nodded in the direction of her neighbor. Tamsyn’s glance found Suzette gazing across the yard, the tiniest hint of
a smile played on her lips. Tamsyn followed her gaze to see that Suzette watched Robert Steele on the opposite side of the garden with the children. Tamsyn wondered if a second marriage was in Suzette’s future.

  “Children?” Mrs. Steele asked.

  Tamsyn’s heart filled with unshed tears. “One. A daughter.” Tamsyn clutched the cup, staring at the dark colored tea inside.

  “Where is she?” Hester intruded on the conversation.

  “James thought it best to send her with my brother to Tennessee.” Tamsyn blinked back the tears that filled the corners of her eyes. “She’s five and I’ve never been away from her. I daresay she is handling the separation far better than I am.”

  “I’m so sorry, dear.” Mrs. Steele passed her a handkerchief. She patted Tamsyn’s knee while Tamsyn dabbed the tears from the corners of her eyes.

  “Thank you.” Tamsyn sniffed. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the conversation continue around her. She bit her bottom lip and blinked against the tears.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She lifted her head and forced a smile when James knelt next to her chair. “Nothing.” She set the cup of tea onto the table.

  He shot a harsh glance across at Hester and touched her arm. “Did someone say something?”

  “James, I’m afraid it’s my fault,” Mrs. Steele admitted quietly to her son. “I’m afraid I may have stirred up her loneliness over her daughter with my nosey questions. I am so sorry, Tamsyn.”

  Abigail squealed. Her cup tipped over and spilled across the table. Suzette’s laughter filled the garden and Mrs. Steele chuckled.

  “Lars ran into her beau,” James whispered. “He invited him for lunch.”

  Abigail jumped from the chair and fled inside the house.

  Mr. Steele shook his head. “Come along, Mary. We should follow along to make sure that she doesn’t fall down the steps when he knocks at the door.”

  “Suzette, will you join us for lunch?” Robert Steele questioned. The children trailed behind him. “The children can eat in the kitchen. Cook will keep an eye on them.”

  Suzette blushed and smiled up at Robert.

  “Oui.” Suzette nodded. “I wish to see this Edward.”

  Tamsyn remained seated while the family moved back into the house. “Suzette can’t take her eyes off your brother.”

  James smiled and moved into the seat left empty by his Mother. “He is the same with her. I caught him carrying her flowers from Mother’s garden this morning.”

  “She mixes them into perfume,” Tamsyn recalled.

  “That’s what he said. What happened to upset you?”

  She lowered her head. Her hair fell around her face.

  “Tamsyn.” He tucked one side behind her ear. “Tell me.”

  “Your mother asked if I had children.” He voice was soft and James leaned closer to hear her. “I miss Elizabeth.”

  “Oh, Tamsyn, I am sorry.” He slid his arm around her shoulders. “I’ve sent word to General Grant. I promise, first train back when I hear from him.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Monday, April 24, 1865

  “I’m sorry.” Tamsyn seated herself next to James at the dinner table.

  With her arrival, Mrs. Steele signaled for the meal to be served.

  “James, did you move the dark blue dress?” Tamsyn whispered.

  Hester glared at her from across the table.

  She tried to adjust the low-cut ball gown so it sat higher on her shoulders. She preferred the conservative darker dress for dinner with the family.

  “It’s very rude to force your hosts to wait on the meal,” Hester shot across the table. “Did they not teach you any manners on your plantation?”

  The outright hostility from the woman made everyone shift uncomfortably.

  “I didn’t live on a plantation,” Tamsyn replied. She nodded her thanks to the maid who served her dish. “I apologize for being late.”

  “Quite all right, dear.” Mr. Steele cleared his throat. “Abigail is normally the one to keep us waiting.” He winked at his daughter.

  “Papa,” Abigail exclaimed. “I do not.”

  Her denial made everyone grin. Everyone except Hester.

  “Abigail, will your Edward join us for the dinner party on Wednesday?” Mrs. Steele tried to steer the conversation into a new direction.

  Abigail flushed at the mention of her new beau. “He said he would try.” Abigail kept her eyes on her plate.

  “I am eager to meet your young fellow.” James began to cut the roasted meat on his plate. “Lars said he’s an Irishman.”

  “He’s a right smart young man,” Mr. Steele commented. “Billingsworth hired him right off the boat.”

  “What was Abby doing at the docks?” James glanced down the table at his sister whose face couldn’t get any closer to her food before she would be wearing it.

  “I wasn’t at the docks,” Abigail protested.

  “Billingsworth moved him to work the books.” Mr. Steele smiled. “He was sent with a message, here, for me and ran into Abigail.”

  “Did he ask to see your teeth?” Hester giggled.

  “Hester, that’s enough.” Lars growled from his seat next to his wife. Hester scowled at her husband.

  “James?” Tamsyn leaned against him. “Have you seen it?”

  “Tamsyn, you look lovely in what you’re wearing.” Abigail was grateful to turn the topic from herself. Tamsyn shifted in the dress again.

  “It’s not proper day wear,” Hester said between tiny bites of roast. “But I don’t suspect rebels know anything about proper dress.”

  Tamsyn clenched her jaw. “Is there something else you’d like to say to me, Hester?” Tamsyn gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white.

  Hester drew back. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

  “My mother taught me enough manners not to speak so rudely at the dinner table.” Tamsyn rose from her chair. “If you will excuse me. I am not feeling well.”

  Tamsyn fled the room. Angry voices erupted behind her. She ran up the stairs, tears flooded down her face. I don’t belong here.

  Once inside James’s room she dropped onto the bed and sobbed.

  ****

  “Stop by Whitaker’s,” James called to the driver.

  “Who is Whitaker?”

  He reached for her hand. His thumb drew soft circles on her palm. “The dressmaker’s shop.”

  “James, no.” Tamsyn drew her hand away. “You’ve spent far too much already.”

  “I’ve only purchased the two dresses. It wasn’t much.” The driver pulled the horses to a smooth stop. “I’d like to buy you something to wear for the dinner on Wednesday night.”

  She let out a loud sigh.

  “Humor me.” He stepped out of the coach and offered his hand.

  She followed him out of the carriage and inside the small shop.

  The dressmaker smiled at them. “Mr. Steele, it’s nice to see you again,” said an older woman with silver hair, a tape measure strung about her neck and pins gleaming in her dress. “Do you see anything that strikes you, miss?”

  “They are all very beautiful.” Her gaze lingered on a pastel purple material. Elizabeth’s favorite color.

  “We hoped to see the dresses you’ve already made, Mrs. Whitaker. My parents have a dinner party planned for Wednesday evening and Ms. Moody needs something appropriate to wear.”

  Tamsyn frowned.

  Appropriate.

  “Certainly, Mr. Steele.” The dressmaker seemed well acquainted with the Steele family. “Would you please follow me into the back?” She led them away from the rows of fabric and into a large back room.

  James’s hand slid down her back to give her backside a gentle squeeze.

  She swatted his hand away. James looked over at her. The pure look of raw lust he gave her sent warm waves sliding down her spine.

  He’d made love to her slowly before they’d left the house after lunch. Taking his ti
me he’d left her unable to stand afterwards. James laughed at her failed attempts to muffle her cries of pleasure.

  “What color do you fancy?” the dressmaker asked with a flourish of her arm. Rows of fabric were scattered about the room, organized by color.

  Tamsyn’s eyes widened.

  “How about something in red?” James touched several scarlet colered gowns.

  “No.” She hurried toward a sunny yellow frock. “I like the yellow.”

  James wrinkled his nose.

  “If I may,” Mrs. Whitaker pulled out a peach colored gown, trimmed around the bottom with white lace. “This color would look very nice on you.”

  Tamsyn looked the dress over.

  “It comes with a jacket.” She adjusted the second part of the dress over the first. “So that the dress can be worn during the day as well.”

  Tamsyn touched the pastel taffeta and silk.

  “It’s beautiful.” Tamsyn admitted with a sigh.

  “We’ll take it,” James said.

  “Would you like the matching shawl and gloves?” Mrs. Whitaker was a saleswoman. She whipped out the white lace gloves for Tamsyn’s inspection.

  “Add them to the account.” James touched Tamsyn’s back. “We are meeting George at the train station.” He nodded to the dressmaker and moved to guide Tamsyn out of the shop to where the coach and driver waited.

  James pressed the small wrapped package into Tamsyn’s arms and helped her settle into the open coach. “James, this is too much.”

  “Humor me.” James winked. “One moment while I settle the account with Mrs. Whitaker.” He stepped back into the shop.

  ****

  George grinned when he found them waiting just outside the train station in the coach. “Ms. Moody, I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.” George handed James his carpetbag.

  “Hello, George.”

  George sat down in the carriage, pressing Tamsyn between the two men.

  “Did you take care of Miss Tabitha?”

  George laughed heartily and the coach jerked to a start. “That was some fun that night, eh? Yes, I escorted her home and explained to her mother what happened.” He clapped James on the back, then rubbed his face with exhaustion. “Where her mother promptly cornered me and offered to repay my kindness with her own special favors.”