Scarlet Leaves

by Sonya Birmingham

She stood and walked behind the settee, her rustling skirts exuding the faint scent of gardenia. "I understand what you're saying," she returned, holding his gaze with smoldering eyes. "It's one thing to have opinions and hold loyalties, and yet another to risk imprisonment or death."

  "Exactly," he replied, rising to his feet.

  She tilted her head at one of the windows. "Come, let me show you something. Emma is really the one who put the steel in my spine," she explained, walking to the window and pulling back a lacy shadow panel.

  Taggart joined her and looked out at a side yard and, next door, a two-story mansion, which was separated from the Willmott home by a wrought-iron fence.

  Caroline turned around, a light burning in her eyes. "As a small child I played with a ball in this little yard. Once when my ball went over the fence, I spied a small black girl sitting on the Spencers' side steps, cleaning shoes. I called to her to bring me my ball and she did." Her face softened. "Her name was Emma and we became the best of friends.

  Her mother was the Spencers' cook."

  A gentle smile graced her lips. "I believe Emma and I talked to each other every day after that. We stood at that fence and told each other our secrets and our hopes, and when her mother was too busy to notice, I would open the back gate and we would play under the sheltering pecan trees." Her eyes misted over. "We were too young then to know the different paths our lives would take. When I was seven, Papa hired a governess to teach me to read and write, while Emma sat on the Spencers' steps and cleaned shoes."

  They walked back to the tea table and she gracefully reclaimed her seat, spreading out her sweeping skirt. "Under the pecan trees I taught her everything I'd learned, and gave her books that she sneaked into the Spencers' attic, where she and her mother slept."

  Taggart sat down and steepled his hands, realizing she was revealing her secret heart to him.

  "When we became young ladies, we went shopping together, and of course everyone assumed she was my maid. One day when I was sixteen, we came home, and she opened the gate for me, then stepped back to let me enter the yard first. A few days later she started calling me Miss Caroline." A heavy sigh escaped her lips. "I tried to stop the spreading gulf between us, but soon after that I was sent to Boston. I wrote her letters, and received a few in return; then they suddenly stopped." She laughed a little. "My first Christmas holiday I think I was more eager to see Emma than Mama and Papa."

  She tilted the silver teapot, warming her coffee. "But Emma wasn't here when I got back," she added, moisture glistening in her eyes. "The Spencers had sold her away while I was gone." She looked directly at Taggert. "Can you imagine that? They'd sold away my best friend. It made an indelible impression on meone I'll never forget. I don't believe anyone, should be allowed to sell another person like a piece of chattel, do you, Major?"

  "No, indeed," he replied softly, now understanding what fired her amazing courage. "I'm of the opinion that we think alike in many ways."

  "After Mama and Papa died I gave their slaves freedom

  papers, then shocked all of Richmond by hiring them back." She shook her head. "Crazy Caroline's foolishness was the talk of the town. I even financed several servants' college tuition in New England." She glanced at the door. "Lucy, the girl who brought us this cake, is a graduate of a ladies' academy. I've trained her to work in any home in the city. Last night she served at the table of Jefferson Davis himself. She is invaluable to me."

  She sighed again. "After Fort Sumter, everyone in Richmond was seized with secession fever. As soon as they ran up the first Confederate flag, I took a train to Washington and offered my services to the authorities. There was much confusion in those first days, so it was fairly easy to pass into Washington, especially for a lady."

  Taggart tugged his ear. "One thing puzzles me, Miss Willmott. You send information to the Federals, but you also contribute heavily to Chimborazo Hospital."

  "Yes. Don't misunderstand my loyalties. I'm Southern born and Southern bred. I don't agree with the goals of the Confederacy, but I contribute money so that Dr. Cooke may purchase medicines to alleviate the suffering of my fellow Southerners. I also take food to Libby Prison to help feed the Union prisoners there." She smiled and a dimple played over her cheek, making her look young and almost girlish. "Some people say I don't know whose side I'm on. They say I need a man to help me manage my father's great fortune, but I don't think so. Then I'd have the man and my money to manage."

  Taggart chuckled, then met her gaze, realizing that through the years she must have established an elaborate system for relaying the information she'd unearthed. "The Rebs have been breaking a lot of our ciphers lately," he remarked thoughtfully. "How do you manage to get your messages into the right hands?"

  A sly smile played over her face. "You're right about the ciphers. Telegraphing messages has become too dangerous, so I just walk them across to Washington or City Point or anywhere I want them to go."

  "Walk them across?" he said, sitting back on the settee in surprise.

  "Yes, I'll explain it to you sometime," she said with a laugh. "Meanwhile, just be assured that if you gather any information about the Petersburg line, I can relay it to the right sources."

  The door opened once more and Lucy entered and began clearing away the elegant tea service. When she'd finished Taggart stood. "Perhaps it's time for me to go." He took Caroline's hand trod bowed over it in a courtly gesture. "I believe we'll work well together."

  She smiled, then rose as well. "Yes, I'm sure you're right." She arched her delicate brows. "How are you with numbers?"

  "Good, actually," he answered, a little puzzled. "Why do you ask?"

  "As you know, I head the Chimborazo Benevolent Committee, which presently needs an accountant to straighten our tangled financial affairs. I'll tell everyone you have volunteered for the job. Once you have a place on the committee we can meet without stirring anyone's suspicion. Since Miss Shanahan's brother is in the hospital and everyone supposes he's your cousin too, your interest in our group should be quite believable to the citizens of Richmond."

  Taggart nodded, realizing just how clever she really was. "I'll see you in a few days, then."

  "Fine. The next time you come I'll give you one of the new ciphers. I believe it's almost unbreakable."

  The smile slid from her face and she looked directly into his eyes. "We have a lot of work ahead of us, Major Taggart. Both sides are suffering horribly in this war. It must be ended."

  Chapter Thirteen

  The same afternoon Taggart was meeting with Caroline Willmott, Silky walked into Daniel's ward at Chimborazo. All day her thoughts had dwelled on the beautiful lady she had met at Dr. Cooke's dinner party the night before. After she and Taggart had returned to the Spotswood, he'd told her that he and Caroline were discussing a mutual friend from Norfolk. But try as she might, she couldn't forget the glint of excitement in his eyes as he'd looked at the gorgeous creature. Still deeply upset, she'd thought of postponing her visit today, but she'd promised her brother she'd meet his special friend this afternoon, and she just couldn't let him down.

  Her mind distracted, she was almost at Daniel's bed before she noticed a young girl sitting beside him in a straight chair, her face aglow as she spoke. With an inward smile, Silky coughed discreetly, thinking today's visit would be interesting indeed.

  "Silky, honey," Daniel exclaimed when he saw her. Somewhat nervously, he nodded at the girl, who blushed prettily under his attention. "This is my ... my friend, Abby Drumond."

  A gracious smile touched Abby's rather plain face, making her genuinely pretty for a moment. Silky took her soft childlike hand in greeting, then sat down on the bed.

  "This is my sister, Silky, all the way from the Blue Ridge," Daniel announced, patting the girl's arm affectionately.

  Dressed in a modest gown and matching bonnet, Abby projected the innocent air of a well-brought-up Southern girl who'd been lovingly protected from the harsher side of life. She had a sweet, tender fac
e, and large blue eyes that were fringed with long lashes. Her straight brown hair had been parted in the middle, brushed to a gloss, then smoothly coiled in a bun just above the nape of her slender neck. From her small person came the faint scents of soap and starch and rose water.

  So this was her brother's special friend, Silky thought with amazement, eager to write Charlie about Abby as soon as possible. How surprised the folks in the hollow would be to know Daniel was courting a Richmond girl!

  "I'm glad you can visit my brother," Silky offered, meeting her shy gaze. "He's used to being outside, and I know how bored he must get in here."

  Abby laughed and looked at Daniel, her face becoming radiant. "Yes, he's told me many stories about the mountainsabout some of his escapadesand yours, too."

  "We were quite a pair, Daniel and me," Silky admitted with a dry chuckle. "I think we terrorized every coon and possum in the hills. They're probably relieved we're both gone."

  Abby glanced at Daniel and a sudden blush tinted her creamy skin with soft color. "You told me you had a sister," she said, her quiet voice scarcely more than a whisper, "but not that she was so beautiful!"

  "Beautiful?" Daniel echoed, pulling a face. "Why, she's just a freckle-faced kid." He ran his gaze over Silky in an exaggerated manner. "Say, you don't have freckles anymore. I hadn't noticed before. What happened to them? Did you bleach them off with buttermilk?"

  Silky tilted her head, loving their teasing banter. "No, I had Granny Woodall hex them off," she replied, shaking his shoulder playfully, "and I told her to send them all to you!"

  They visited for a half hour, talking about Richmond and the war; then Abby stood, her face wreathed in tenderness. "I must go now," she announced, moving gracefully to the bed. "I have some errands to run for Mama." She clasped Daniel's hand, love beaming from her clear eyes. "I'll see you soon."

  Silky stood to say good-bye, and the girl respectfully inclined her head. "I hope we get to see each other again," she ventured. "I'm so glad we had a chance to meet."

  Silky watched the girl walk away. She carried herself with a quiet dignity that was touching in someone who'd obviously been so sheltered. Then, with a spark of amusement, she surveyed Daniel, noticing that his eyes never left Abby's small figure until she'd disappeared from the ward.

  After she'd gone, Silky tousled his hair. "Well, well. It's like that, is it?" She chuckled dryly. "Here I was feeling sorry for you being in the hospital and you're carrying on with some girl!" She sat down on the bed once more, thinking she'd never seen him look happier. "How in the world did an ornery rascal like you meet a delicate little thing like her?"

  Daniel's eyes shone with happiness. "Every few weeks some of the nice girls from Richmond come to the wards to serve lemonade and a few sweetsbut the rations are so scarce we call the get-togethers starvation parties." He shook his head, a big grin lighting his expression. "But that party was the best shindig I ever went to 'cause that's where I met Abby."

  For a moment Silky put her own concerns aside and her heart softened as she listened to her brother rattle on about his sweetheart. Despite the glow on his face, she worded about his and Abby's future in these hard times. But pushing her concerns to the back of her mind, she gave him her wholehearted attention, praying providence would somehow bless the pair.

  "Her father owns a lumberyard here in the city, and they're good solid folks," Daniel advised her proudly.

  "Abby is just as kind as she can be and has a tender way about her I never noticed in a girl before."

  "Lordamercy. Why haven't you mentioned her before?" Silky asked.

  A thoughtful look rolled over his face. "I reckon I was kind of saving her for a surprise," he answered with an embarrassed smile. "And since you came to Richmond, things have sort of speeded up between me and Abby. I just wanted you to see her for yourself before I told you about her." His face flushed. "I-I wanted you to like her real bad."

  Silky ran her hand over his. "I do ... I really do. I can tell she's everything you say she is." She studied his pleased face, suddenly realizing that for the first time in his life her brother had fallen head over heels in love. Her throat tightened with emotion as she rejoiced in his newfound happiness. At the same time, she thought of her relationship with Taggart. If only it could be as simple and open as that of Daniel and Abby, she thought, remembering his many secrets and his new infatuation with Caroline Willmott.

  Where would it all end? she wondered, trying to hide her worry from her brother. Where would it all end?

  When the lilting waltz's last note melted into the air, Silky leaned back in Taggart's strong arms and met his amused gaze. "Let's get something to drink," she suggested over the hubbub of voices in the noisy ballroom. "I'm so dry I could spit cotton." Taggart placed her gloved hand on his arm and escorted her toward the punch bowl, maneuvering between beautiful ladies and Confederate officers wearing resplendent gray uniforms with gleaming gold sashes tied at their waists.

  After Dr. Cooke's dinner, the invitations had arrived at the Spotswood in a flurry, requesting their presence at all the Richmond holiday festivities, such as this Christmas ball taking place in Colonel Lehman's mansion, one of the finest old Georgian houses in the city. Feeling all eyes upon her, Silky straightened her back and raised her chin a bit, excited to be at her first real cotillion.

  Through the tall arched windows, she spied fluffy snowflakes drifting down, but inside the ballroom it was warm and inviting, and the evergreen boughs and ornamental fruit resting on the fireplace mantel gave the room a gay, festive air. At the refreshment table, Taggart poured her a cup of heated cider, spiced with cinnamon and cloves, but, just as she clasped the warm cup, Burton Harrison approached them, his wavy brown hair and finely tailored suit stirring her memory of their meeting on the train.

  A smile wreathing his youthful face, he shook hands with Taggart.

  "Oh, Mr. Harrison," Silky exclaimed, truly happy to make his acquaintance once more. "How are you? I haven't seen you since the day I arrived in the city."

  Jefferson Davis's private secretary took Silky's hand and bowed over it in a courtly fashion. "No, miss," he answered, his kind brown eyes playing over her. "Actually this is my first social occasion since I returned to Richmond. I've been working with the president, usually until very late each evening." His face softened with concern. "I expect you've seen your brother by now. How is he faring?"

  "He's getting better," she replied, somewhat surprised such a busy man would remember Daniel, "but it will be some time before he can walk again. His spirit is strong and I'm sure he'll soon be up and about." She transferred her gaze to Taggart, sensing he wanted to speak to Harrison.

  Taggart studied the young man's tired face as he chatted with him, noticing how careworn he appeared. And well he should, he thought, for only last week John Bell Hood's troops had been decimated at Nashville. Although he hadn't seen Davis himself, word was floating about Richmond that he was extremely fatigued and on the verge of collapse. His secretary's appearance only corroborated the rumor. Putting on his best smile, he offered Harrison a cigar, then lit one up for himself.

  "Judging from this wrap," the man said, examining the cigar as he rolled it in his fingertips, "I'd say it's Cuban." He breathed in the cigar's spicy aroma, then lit it with relish. "With the blockade on, I was under the impression only Yankees smoked cigars this fine."

  Taggart glanced at Silky's curious face, then, making a quick recovery, sent Harrison an affable grin. "Yes, I received several boxes of Cuban cigars in payment for a gambling debt recently. I believe," he added dryly, "that the gentleman had hoarded them as long as he could."

  Harrison laughed and drew on the cigar. "It's fine, very fine indeed."

  Taggart regretted his mistake with the cigar, but how was he to know that Harrison was a cigar afficionado? Silky had seemed to accept his line about the gambling debt with no trouble, so perhaps no great harm was done. He'd only talked another five minutes with Harrison when Colonel Lehman
approached, a polished saber swinging at his side. The gray-haired officer wore a well-cut uniform, glittering with gold braid on the cuffs and collar and a red strip flashing down the trousers. "Sorry to intrude," he drawled in a grave tone, eyeing Taggart, then Silky, "but if possible, I must speak with Mr. Harrison. It's a matter of utmost importance."

  The secretary shook hands with Taggart, then settled his gaze on Silky, an affectionate twinkle in his eyes. "So good to see you again, my dear. If I can be of assistance while you're in the city, please let me know."

  Taggart watched Colonel Lehman walk away with Harrison, his hand on his shoulder. The two were in deep conversation, and as they moved into the entry, the colonel signaled a servant to bring the secretary his overcoat. No doubt the South had suffered another loss and Harrison was being summoned back to the Confederate White House. Taggart observed the pair thoughtfully, yearning to know the details of the affair.

  At that moment the little orchestra in the corner struck up a waltz, and Silky looked up expectantly. Dressed in a white gown with gold embroidery, she resembled a Christmas angel, or, Taggart thought with a little tug of his heart, the most beautiful bride he'd ever seen. He took the cup from her hand and, placing it on the table, bowed formally. "It seems a shame to waste all that good music. May I have this dance, Miss Shanahan?"

  Silky made a sweeping curtsy, her long white gloves outlining her lovely arms. "Why, of course, sir. I'd be delighted,'' she replied, a playful light twinkling in the depths of her green eyes, "but if you dare say step, slide, step, I'll walk off and leave you standing where you are!"

  He took her small hand and raised her from the curtsy. In moments they were whirling about on the glassy parquet, enveloped in a sea of swinging skirts and Confederate uniforms. He missed seeing Caroline here tonight, but Silky had asked him so many questions about her, he decided it was probably for the best. He'd temporarily stilled her doubts by telling her he was working with Caroline on the Chimborazo Benevolent Committee, but he knew one false step would provoke her curiosity afresh.