The Rebel Spy

by April London

  Tamsyn gasped. The old woman never seemed the type.

  “How is your family, James?” George asked.

  “They are well.”

  “Has Robert made an honest woman out of the neighbor? I stopped by on a short leave last year and they couldn’t stop staring at each other.” George seemed to know the family well.

  “They still stare at each other.” James laughed.

  “Hester?” George leaned his head against the back of the seat.

  Tamsyn wrinkled her nose at the mention of the bitter woman.

  “Still Hester.” James smiled at Tamsyn. “Abigail has a suitor.”

  “Little Abby? She isn’t old enough to be courting.” George shook his head and laughed. “She promised to wait for me.”

  “She has to be fifteen years younger than you.” Tamsyn’s mouth clamped closed. Ben was fifteen years older than me.

  George smiled at her. “Fifteen years isn’t so bad.”

  “There are fifteen years between my parents.” James nodded. “Abigail still blushes whenever your name is brought up.”

  “Ah, I might still have a chance with her then?” George grinned.

  “You jest.” Tamsyn couldn’t believe the two men. “She has a suitor. A young man who seems very nice. They seem smitten with each other.”

  Both men laughed. They had a secret they weren’t willing to share with Tamsyn.

  James leaned against her ear. “By the end of the dinner party tomorrow, George will have Abby wrapped around his finger and she’ll forget all about Edward the Irishman.”

  “An Irishman?” George asked. “Ah, Abby. Was no one keeping an eye on her?”

  The carriage stopped in front of the Steele town house. “Does she know I’m coming?” George asked.

  “No.” James grinned over Tamsyn’s head. “No one but Father knew I was fetching you from the train station today.”

  George grinned before stepping out. He offered a hand to help Tamsyn out and James followed.

  “Watch this,” James whispered.

  “Abigail Steele!” George bellowed in the street.

  If Tamsyn hadn’t just sat next to him on the ride over from the station she would have sworn he was drunk.

  An unmistakable squeal came from inside the house. James wrapped his arm around Tamsyn and pulled her close, away from George.

  When the front door opened James’s sister ran out. “George!” Abigail dove the last few feet into George’s arms.

  “Well, she didn’t react to Edward’s arrival yesterday like that.” Tamsyn giggled.

  “Come along inside.” James tugged her.

  Tamsyn allowed him to pull her along. “Your parents seemed so certain her new beau was the one.” Tamsyn recalled the comments. “They said she was different.”

  “Lars and I suspect it’s because she didn’t think George was coming back.” They walked through the parlor. “Lars said in the past year that all of her friends have gotten married.”

  “She felt left out.”

  They stepped into the dining room where the family gathered for a light supper.

  “James, don’t leave those two in the street.” Mrs. Steele rolled her eyes.

  “George will drag her in.” James pushed Tamsyn’s chair under the table. “He’s been on the train all day. He’ll be eager for your coffee, Mother.”

  “The neighbors will be talking by morning for sure,” Hester grumbled, settling into her chair, across from Tamsyn.

  Everyone ignored her.

  “George! Put me down!” Abigail’s voice carried into the room ahead of them. George appeared in the doorway with Abigail tossed over his shoulder.

  “George, please put her down.” Mrs. Steele motioned for the meal to be served, the hint of a smile played on her lips.

  The hair on Tamsyn’s neck prickled and she found Hester’s cold stare on her.

  Hester’s lips curved and she turned toward the head of the table. “Mrs. Steele, where will George sleep tonight? Ms. Moody already occupies the guest room.”

  Everyone seemed to stop eating at once.

  George raised an eyebrow in James’s direction and coughed. “James and I can bunk up, Mrs. Steele.”

  “Hester,” Mr. Steele growled over his soup. “I’ve had quite enough of your trying to stir up trouble in this house.”

  Hester’s spoon clattered to the floor and her jaw opened with shock.

  “You will sit here quietly and enjoy this meal, or you can retire to your rooms for the night. You’ve insulted our guests enough.” Mr. Steele turned back to his soup.

  Tamsyn dropped her gaze to her hands in her lap.

  “How can you all sit here? Eat here, with this traitor?” Hester’s voice went up a notch, anger reddened her face. “You know, she was caught as a spy.” She threw the information out. “Now you do nothing while James carries on with this rebel whore over your heads.”

  A hot tear slipped down Tamsyn’s cheek and landed on her knuckles. Whore.

  Lars threw his napkin onto the table. “Hester, be quiet.”

  “No. I will not be quiet!”

  “Hester! Enough!” Lars’s chair knocked against the wall when he stood.

  Tamsyn choked back a sob. The family erupted around her.

  “No.” Hester’s shrill voice carried over the noise. She met her husband’s anger with anger of her own. “I refuse to stay here with my children while she is here.” Her hands clenched at her sides. “Lawrence, take the boys and I to my mother’s.”

  Silence fell.

  “Gather your things, Hester,” Lars ordered. “Leave the boys. They can stay here, with me.”

  “What?” Hester stepped back. “The boys will not stay here—”

  “The boys are asleep.” Lars’ face showed no emotion. “Gather what you need. I’ll have you to your mother’s.”

  The family sat in silence, gazes following Lars and Hester’s retreating figures.

  “Tamsyn, I apologize for my daughter-in-law’s outburst,” Mrs. Steele said.

  Tamsyn nodded. Whore.

  James’s hand slid to cover her own.

  “Her two brothers were killed during the first year of the war. She is…bitter.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wednesday, April 26, 1865

  James slept. His face, clean shaven and relaxed, appeared boyish in his slumber. The tick in his jaw gone.

  Hester’s outburst the night before left everyone in the family emotionally drained. The rest of supper had been spent in silence.

  Tamsyn slid against him. A chill crept into his room at night. Heat radiated off his body, warming her, and she sighed. Laying her hand on his chest, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

  A wicked smile played on her lips.

  Tracing her fingertips down his chest and across his stomach. Hesitating only for a moment, she continued to trail her fingers further down his stomach.

  “Good morning.” His voice was deep with sleep. Reaching up, he grasped her hand, stilling it just below his belly button. He turned and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  Smiling, she tried to press her hand lower but his grip kept her immobile.

  “Something wrong?” She bit her bottom lip and glanced up at him through her lashes.

  “I have to meet with my father this morning.” James cleared his throat.

  “Oh.”

  He pushed the coverlet aside and sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching for his breeches, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

  She frowned but pulled the coverlet around her shoulders. “Will the dress be delivered in time?”

  He remained silent while pulling on his clothes.

  “James?”

  “What?”

  She stared at him. The steady tick in his jaw brought her to her knees in front of him. She brushed her fingers across his jaw. “Is everything all right?”

  “I’m sorry, Tamsyn.” He smiled and tucked the white shirt into his breeches.
“Yes, yes. The dress will be here on time.” James nodded. “I don’t wish to be late.” He pulled the jacket off the straight-backed chair.

  “When will you be back?”

  “I’m not sure.” He huffed a loud sigh. “Surely you can entertain yourself for the day.”

  Her heart sank and she drew the coverlet around her.

  “Your dress should be delivered this morning.” He slipped into his shoes. With those words he slipped out of the room.

  The door clicked behind him.

  She sat in shock.

  ****

  Tamsyn leaned back in the garden chair, a book open on her lap. He’d been gone the entire day.

  The ladies of the house kept busy with last minute preparations for the dinner party. Feeling out of place, she’d taken one of the books off James’s shelf and slipped out to the garden to read. She’d flipped through the book. His distant behavior left her uncertain.

  Whore. Hester’s words still rang in her head.

  “Tamsyn, a package arrived for you,” Mrs. Steele called from the doorway, pulling Tamsyn from thoughts. “I left it on the bottom step.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” She closed the book. It must be the dress. The dressmaker sent word earlier in the afternoon that would be ready with just enough time left for her to dress before the party.

  Tamsyn waited until Mrs. Steele returned back into the house before she ventured inside. She bit her bottom lip and she picked up the brown paper package. Tears rushed upon her and she sucked in a deep breath. I want to go home.

  “Tamsyn, is it your dress?”

  She looked up to find Abigail at the top of the stairs. Already dressed for dinner, the girl radiated beauty.

  “Abigail, you are stunning.” She climbed the steps to the second floor. The creamy beige would never have looked right on anyone else. On Abigail, it shone. “The color, it’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Abigail smiled. “Do you think George will like it?”

  Tamsyn raised an eyebrow at the girl. “What about Edward?”

  Abigail ignored the question and grabbed Tamsyn by the hand. “Would you like me to help you into the dress? I’m dying to see it. Come in my room, I have a mirror.”

  Tamsyn allowed herself to be pulled to the end of the hallway and into Abigail’s room. She gasped in surprise at the spacious suite, twice the size of James’s. The windows were wide open. Bright sunlight poured in.

  “Benefit of being the only girl.” Abigail grinned, pushing the door closed behind them. “Open it, I want to see.”

  Tamsyn untied the strings. Her hands shook. Pressing the paper aside, she pulled the dress out.

  “Oh, Tamsyn, it’s beautiful.” Abigail brushed her fingers along the lace trim.

  Tamsyn laid the dress on the bed and began to unbutton her dress. She’d opted for one of her worn, homespun dresses that morning.

  Abigail helped her step into the peach colored ball gown and buttoned the back, the dress hugged Tamsyn’s curves, showing off her wide hips and narrow waist without the aid of a corset.

  “You’re so lucky.” Abigail adjusted the shoulders of the dress. Tamsyn smiled at the compliment but remained silent. “Sit down and I will help you with your hair.” Abigail motioned to the seat in front of a tiny vanity near the windows.

  Abigail combed Tamsyn’s hair away from her face. “Tamsyn, may I ask you something personal?”

  “Certainly.” Tamsyn closed her eyes. Her mother had been the last person to help her with her hair. Just before her wedding to Ben.

  “How would I…” Abigail paused, twisting the length of Tamsyn’s hair up and began to place the pins in. “If I were so inclined, tell a gentleman…”

  Tamsyn opened one eye. “Just out with it, Abigail.” Tamsyn felt her tug a few curls from her temples.

  Abigail blushed. “I’d like to do more than hold hands.” Abigail rushed the words as she smoothed Tamsyn’s hair with skilled hands.

  “Exactly, how much more are you thinking?” Tamsyn asked softly after several silent moments.

  Abigail’s face reddened to a deeper crimson. “Whatever it takes to keep him.” Abigail choked with honesty. She dropped her hands from Tamsyn’s head. “It looks beautiful.” She walked to her bed and sat down.

  Tamsyn stared wide-eyed at the young girl.

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Abigail folded her hands together in her lap. “Well?”

  “Abigail, if the gentleman loves you…” Tamsyn thought back to her own youthful indiscretions and sighed. “It’s a touch. A look. All at the right moment.” Tamsyn closed her eyes. “You haven’t known Edward very long, Abigail.”

  Abigail blushed. “Not Edward.” Abigail stood and smoothed her dress before moving to the windows where the late afternoon sun lit on her hair.

  “But I thought Edward…”

  “Not Edward,” Abigail repeated.

  “How long have you been in love with George?”

  Abigail laughed. “George accompanied James to visit on a break while they were attending West Point. I was seven.”

  Male voices floated in from the street below and Abigail pushed the curtains aside. The smile that lit Abigail’s face told Tamsyn all she needed to know. She couldn’t help but smile at the girl. Am I in love with James?

  The thought thundered through her mind and made her catch her breath. Abigail went on talking while Tamsyn tried to wrap her mind around her most recent thought. She’d never been in love with Ben. He’d taken her away when she needed to be taken away. He’d never spoken of love. It might have been love before…

  No. That was never love.

  “Tamsyn?” Abigail touched her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Abigail.” Tamsyn smiled. “Perhaps you should just speak candidly with George. In private of course.”

  A knock came on the front door. The first of the guests had arrived.

  “I should help Mother receive the guests.” Abigail gathered her skirts and moved toward the door. Abigail stopped and looked back at Tamsyn. “I think you should know, I haven’t seen James smile in a very long time. You’re good for him. Whatever happens, I hope you stay with him.”

  Abigail hurried downstairs and Tamsyn turned back to the small mirror at the vanity table. Twirling the loose bits of hair at her temples around her fingers to curl them a bit more, she found herself satisfied with her appearance.

  “Abigail told me you were in here.” James leaned against the doorframe. The deep blue of his Union officer’s uniform made her stomach flutter. “I’m sorry I ran out on you this morning.” He rolled his hat in his hands.

  “You had business with your father.” Tamsyn forced a smile.

  “That may have been a bit of a fib.” James tossed the hat on the bed and he moved across the room.

  Tamsyn stood. Her heart pounded with uncertainty.

  “James, did you find her?” George’s voice carried into the room.

  “Yes, in Abby’s room,” James called over his shoulder.

  “Tamsyn, please don’t be angry with him.” George slipped into the room and closed the door. “It’s my fault he ran out this morning.”

  Tamsyn’s gaze darted between the two of them. Dashing rogues, the pair of them.

  “I asked James to go with me to speak with Mr. Steele,” George explained. “I asked him not to tell anyone and he’s worried all day about you.”

  “Well, as you can see, I’m quite all right.” Tamsyn wondered what the two of them were keeping from her.

  “They are seating everyone downstairs.” James offered Tamsyn his elbow.

  The trio moved downstairs. Tamsyn clung to James’s arm. A multitude of unfamiliar faces greeted and welcomed him home. Many curious glances were cast in her direction.

  James sat Tamsyn into an empty seat between him and Abigail.

  “You look beautiful.” He settled into the seat next to her. He shifted and someone across the table called for his attention.

  T
amsyn glanced up to find Hester seated across from her. Tamsyn forced a polite smile for the woman. Hester smiled in return. Mr. Steele had agreed to allow her return for the dinner party, but Lars sat stiff next to her.

  The sharp rapping on a glass brought a sudden silence to the room. Mr. Steele stood at the head of the table. Mrs. Steele sat smiling on his right.

  “I want to thank everyone for coming. This evening, we welcome back our son, James. It’s been too long without him at our table.” Mr. Steele turned to James. Tears rimmed the old man’s eyes. He reached out and clutched James’s shoulder. “James, your Mother and I can’t express how happy we are to have you home. We love you, son, and don’t want your seat to be empty ever again.”

  “Thank you, Father,” James whispered. A polite clapping swelled up from the guests at the table.

  “A toast.” Mr. Steele raised his glass high and waited for everyone to do the same. “To family.”

  The toast quieted and Mrs. Steele gave the signal for the first course to be served. The butler hurried toward the door to answer another knock.

  Tamsyn’s stomach rumbled. The soup filled the bowls, and she realized she’d not eaten. The creamy oyster stew smelled marvelous.

  “I am so sorry I am late.”

  An attractive dark-haired woman stood at the door. She peeled out of a heavy dark cloak sprinkled with raindrops and handed it to the butler, revealing a scarlet red gown. “The driver must be new.” Her dark eyes flashed with smoldering anger. “He couldn’t maneuver the horses in the rain and mud.” She stepped gracefully into the dining room and turned a dazzling smile on everyone.

  Tamsyn shuddered. Abigail’s hand appeared and gripped Tamsyn’s arm. A slow burn started low in Tamsyn’s gut.

  James rose stiffly from his seat. He moved across the room to where the woman stood, a bright smile on her face.

  “James, darling.” She clutched James’s hand. He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her pale cheek.

  Tamsyn’s breath caught in the back of her throat and she swallowed. Turning her gaze back to the bowl, the stew faded and she clutched the table. No. This can’t be real.