The Liberator Series Box Set: Christian Historical Civil War Novels

by Stephenia H. McGee

  “Ross,” Uncle supplied.

  Grierson chuckled. “Of course. How foolish of me.” He made a small bow. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, Miss Ross. I’m glad you returned home safely after your incident.”

  Her throat was so tight all Annabelle could do was nod. She flicked her gaze back to the other men as they made their way through the garden and to the bottom step. Remembering herself, Annabelle straightened and clasped her hands in front of her. “Good day, gentlemen, and thank you for coming. I would ask you inside, but as Rosswood no longer contains much by way of furnishing, perhaps it would be best to conduct our business here in the coolness of the porch?”

  Lieutenant Grierson gave a nod, and gestured for his men to take positions around on the wide front porch.

  “Hey!”

  All eyes turned to the shout that came from the house.

  “They have taken me prisoner!” Andrew bellowed. “Get me out of here!”

  Lieutenant Grierson lifted his eyebrows at Annabelle, and she forced her features to remain serene. “That would be the man I told you about upon our last meeting. He…refused to leave my property peacefully, and as we could not trust him to remain civil, we thought it best to restrain him until authority arrived.”

  Understanding sparked in his eyes, and Grierson nodded. “Yes, miss. I understand.” He motioned to his men. “But let us bring him out, shall we, so that he might witness what is said here.”

  Annabelle inclined her head and extended her hand toward the still open door in invitation. After muffled words, some scraping sounds and a few grunts, Andrew was escorted out of the house by two stoic looking men in blue and deposited by the dining room window, next to where Grierson stood.

  “Now, this squatter refuses—” Uncle began.

  Grierson held up a hand to silence him. “One moment, please, Mr. Ross. I know who this man is. I have already spoken to him. I am the one who granted his request to this land.”

  A sinking feeling settled in Annabelle’s stomach, and Uncle Michael began to sputter. Annabelle swung her gaze to George, but found his face unreadable.

  “However, that was before I realized that these lands belonged to this lady.” He nodded at Annabelle.

  “Well, now, they technically belong to me, as women do not own property,” Uncle said, looping his thumbs into bracers under his jacket.

  Grierson looked at him flatly and then turned his attention back to Andrew. “You stated you had claim on this land, on the grounds that the rest of the remaining family had died.” He gestured to Annabelle. “But as you can see, that is not the case.”

  Andrew sneered. “Miss Ross and I entered into a betrothal, and then she disappeared. I thought she was dead.”

  Shock registered on Grierson’s face as both Annabelle and Uncle Michael spoke at the same time.

  “I did not!”

  “My niece would never marry my sister-in-law’s brother!”

  Grierson held up both hands. “One at a time!”

  They fell silent, Uncle’s eye twitching and Annabelle’s fingers plucking at her skirt.

  Grierson scratched at his chin, and then looked to Annabelle. “When I left you at the inn, you said your grandfather tried to marry you off to a man you despised.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “That him?” Grierson thrust his chin at Andrew.

  “Yes, they planned to force a wedding in order to steal Rosswood from me.”

  Andrew snorted. “Now look here…”

  “Silence!” Grierson barked. “You’ll speak when I give you permission to do so!”

  Andrew fell silent and Annabelle stilled. Was this the same lighthearted young man she’d met a few months ago? This one spoke with assured authority.

  Grierson looked to Uncle Michael. “You are her uncle, correct?”

  “Aye. Her father’s younger brother.”

  “And you?” Grierson asked of Andrew. “Are you tied in any way other than by a betrothal the lady states she did not enter into?”

  “I’m the brother of Lady Ross.”

  Grierson’s face scrunched.

  “Perhaps I can explain?” Annabelle offered, seeing the frustrations rise.

  Rubbing at his temples, Grierson nodded. “By all means.”

  “My mother died when I was young. My father remarried. His second wife also died. After my father and Uncle Michael left for war, Father’s second wife’s father came to stay at Rosswood. My father then died in battle. His will stated that Rosswood would be left to me, upon my marriage. Grandfather and Andrew then took it upon themselves to decide that in order to fulfill the necessities of the will, I would marry Andrew, thereby giving him control of Rosswood. A position he otherwise would not have had. Unfortunately for him, I had no desire to be wed to such a scoundrel intent on using me for my land.”

  Grierson rubbed the back of his neck and gave Annabelle an apologetic smile. “It’s no wonder you ran away from such madness.”

  “You what?” Uncle piped up.

  Annabelle glanced at him. “Perhaps it is a tale better left for later?” She’d given Uncle little by way of the details of her journey since leaving Rosswood, certain it would only get him wound tighter than bed ropes.

  Uncle huffed, but said no more.

  Annabelle looked back to Grierson. “My intention was to find Uncle Michael,” she said, inclining her head in his direction, “since he is the one whom Father wanted to keep Rosswood in trust until it was turned over upon my wedding. I had tried to contact him after my father’s death, but my grandfather would not send my letters.”

  Grierson turned back to Uncle. “And you have documents for all of this?”

  He plucked the papers from his jacket and handed them to the officer. “I do. My brother’s will, along with a letter from our solicitor stating that no one else has any legal claims upon the land.”

  Grierson read through each paper while the others waited in anticipation. Annabelle glanced over to George, who offered her an encouraging smile.

  “Well, this does seem to be in order,” Grierson said, though something in his tone left a tendril of unease snaking around in Annabelle’s gut.

  “You going to tell them the rest?” Andrew asked, the smugness returning to his face.

  Grierson shot Annabelle a pained look. “My orders are to give preference to Union loyalists in areas of property disputes.”

  “Yep, and seeing as how I repented of my rebellious ways and left the Confederate Army—”

  Deserter! Annabelle scowled at him, but he didn’t seem to care.

  “And I signed Union allegiance papers—along with my marital ties to the family and the grant on this land already in my name—I say my claim holds.”

  Annabelle’s stomach clenched so tightly she feared she might lose what little she’d eaten.

  “Papers like these?” George said, offering something to Grierson.

  He turned to George, something flickering across his face Annabelle couldn’t identify and held out his hand without a word.

  “Those are my Union Allegiance papers,” George stated as he placed the papers in the lieutenant’s hand. “And they are identical to the ones my brother will have, once he returns from Washington where he is currently serving with the New York cavalry detail that brought down Booth.”

  Grierson narrowed his eyes, not seeming impressed with the information. If anything, he seemed confused about the papers he held. “That is all well and good, sir, but I do not see how your family’s supposed allegiances pertain to the current topic.”

  George glanced at Annabelle. She bit her lip and took a step forward. “They pertain because his brother, Matthew, is my true intended and will become Master of Rosswood upon his return.”

  Grierson stiffened, and he lowered his voice. “How many men were you attached to when you offered for me to come call upon you?”

  Annabelle’s face heated. “None. Matthew and I did not become engaged until jus
t a short time ago. Forgive me, I never meant to be deceitful.”

  He studied her a moment, then handed the papers back to George and cleared his throat. “In light of all these claims, I am afraid I am going to have to send to my commanding officer to see what needs to be done.”

  Annabelle’s heart plummeted and she gripped his arm. “Please! Don’t take my home from me. It is all I’ve ever known.”

  His eyes softened for an instant before he swung his gaze on to Andrew. “Until such time as a final decision is made, you will remove yourself from these lands.”

  “But—”

  “And if you set foot back on them until I have an official decision in hand, then you will be in violation of the terms and all consideration of your claim will be forfeited.”

  Andrew’s nostril’s flared, but he nodded. Grierson turned to Uncle. “I am leaving you over this place in a temporary position until the decision is reached.”

  “As it should be.” Uncle flipped open his pocket watch and glanced down at it. “You can contact me at The Roses in Natchez once the official papers have been processed.”

  Grierson shook his head. “That would not be wise. If you wish to stake claim, you need to be present.”

  Uncle gawked, but Grierson ignored him and gestured at his men. “Release this man.”

  A flutter of hope bloomed in Annabelle’s heart. She wouldn’t have to leave Rosswood again after all. She tightened her jaw. Unless some Yank granted it to Andrew. Why wouldn’t the lieutenant simply turn it over to her now? He obviously had the authority to do so, since he had given it to Andrew. Surely he could overturn his own decision in her favor.

  Grierson wiped his hands on his trousers. “Now, since that is settled, Miss Ross, might I speak with you a moment?”

  Annabelle looked to Uncle, who finally gave a hesitant nod. Grierson offered his arm, and they walked off the porch and out to the shade tree. When they came to a stop, she looked up at him. “I am so terribly sorry for all the confusion and for not telling you the truth.”

  Grierson smiled. “Well, that’s not entirely true. You did tell me about your grandfather trying to force you to marry.” The smile faded and his features clouded. “You also said something about being thought a spy. I’ve been quite concerned for you since you disappeared.”

  She chewed her lip. “Again, I must offer my apology. It is quite a long tale, but suffice it to say that I ended up in Washington trying to stop the abduction of Lincoln, only to witness him be murdered instead.”

  His eyes widened. “You were there at the assassination?”

  She tucked a stray lock behind her ear. “Unfortunately. I also testified at the trial. That is why I have been gone so long. I was not permitted to leave Washington until I stood before the Military Commission.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “That’s good.”

  She cocked her head. “It is?”

  “Well, if you tried to do all that, then that’s good proof of Union allegiance, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, hoping that all she’d been through would at least prove something of a help to the problem that had forced her to leave Rosswood in the first place.

  They were quiet a moment, and Annabelle’s heart ached for the disappointment she saw cross Joshua Grierson’s face. “I must admit something to you.”

  She waited as he seemed to look for the right words.

  “I requested this assignment just so I could take you up on your offer to come calling.”

  Annabelle twisted the ring on her finger and lowered her lashes. “I’m sorry.”

  They listened to the whisper of the wind through the leaves overhead.

  “Do you love him?” Grierson asked, his voice tender.

  The question startled her, and she glanced back up to see his eyes brimming with sincerity.

  “I do. Most deeply,” she replied, though she hated to cause him any hurt.

  He smiled ruefully. “Ah, well. That’s good then. But if you were only marrying him for Union ties and to save your land….”

  Annabelle’s heart lurched at the irony of how close that statement had actually been to the truth. At least at the start.

  He looked at her hopefully, and she gave a gentle smile and shake of her head. “No, I will marry for love and that alone.”

  Grierson ran a hand through his hair. “I’m truly glad you found happiness, Miss Ross. You are a fine lady, and I wish you many years of a good life.”

  Her throat tightened. “I thank you.” She ached to beg him to forgo the formalities and declare her owner of Rosswood. But she would not cheapen his fondness of her by taking advantage of it.

  He straightened, and the commanding presence she’d glimpsed on the porch returned. “If you have chosen your husband, as your father’s will states, then this land is yours.”

  Her heart leapt. “But, you said…”

  He winked. “I merely bought you some time. I wanted to be sure that Mr. Ross wasn’t trying to lay his own claim.”

  Words stuck in her throat.

  “Of course, I was also hoping that would leave a door open for me in the meantime….”

  She gave him a wry smile.

  He chuckled. “Ah, well, had to try.” He sobered, lowering his voice though Annabelle doubted the people on the porch could hear them. “This will get one zealous man off your land and keep the other in check until you betrothed arrives. Once he does, I’d suggest a quick wedding.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she placed her hand on his arm.

  He looked down at her fingers and grinned. “Unless, of course, you change your mind.”

  She swatted at him playfully, then grew serious, giving his arm a squeeze. “Thank you, Joshua. You can’t know what this means to me.”

  He took her hand and placed a feather-light kiss across her knuckles. “Be sure to bring me your intended’s Union paperwork along with the marriage certificate and will. Having those things on record will staunch any future problems you may have, especially once I return north.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  He dipped his chin and then turned on his heel, calling his men to return to him. They mounted their horses, Andrew in tow, and Annabelle offered one final wave to Grierson. He tipped his hat to her, and then he spurred his horse, leading his men as they galloped away.

  “It is said the trial is over, and the evidence so strong that none will escape. What a narrow escape I had. If taken in the States, my fate would have been steeled long before this.”

  John Surratt

  Washington

  June 30, 1865

  Matthew placed his palm against Mr. Fitch’s and pumped the man’s hand.

  “Are you sure we can’t get you to stay on? I’m sure I could find a place for you here at the station.”

  Matthew shook his head. “I’m flattered, but I’ve had my fill of Washington.”

  Two lawmen dressed in sharp suits parted around them, scurrying off to whatever business kept the police building buzzing with activity. The smell of coffee hung on the air, as the men had kept it flowing all through the night as they debated on what the Military Council would decide once it had adjourned to private discussion.

  “Will you at least stay and see the verdict?” Fitch asked, as though sensing his thoughts.

  Matthew had a feeling Fitch knew as well as Matthew that the accused would be found guilty. “I’m afraid not. I have a lady waiting for me whom I have been away from for far too long.”

  Fitch’s eyes glimmered. “Ah, yes. The lovely Miss Ross.”

  Matthew winked. “Soon to be Mrs. Daniels, quick as I can get back south.”

  Fitch chuckled. “Well, you best be on your way then.” He sobered. “If you ever find your way back to Washington, though, do stop by.”

  Matthew patted his shoulder. “You have my word.”

  After shaking a few more hands and finally making his way back out into the sunlight, Matthew checked the watch he’d purchased with some of
his Union pay and determined he had plenty of time to find a gift for Annabelle before he boarded the train.

  He’d sent a letter addressed to the lady of Rosswood a fortnight ago telling her he was again deeply sorry for his actions and begging that she forgive him. He’d written of the changes the Lord had brought about in his heart, and how the nightmares came much less frequently now, and when they did, they didn’t linger. He’d told her how deeply he missed her, and could not wait to begin their new life together.

  So far, he’d not received word back.

  Trying not to let that worry him, Matthew stepped onto the now familiar busyness of the Washington streets and tried to think what to get an unconventional woman for her wedding day. Each bauble that came to mind was soundly dismissed, knowing that while she would find them pretty, such things would mean little.

  By the time he had wandered over Washington for an hour without coming up with an idea, Matthew turned back toward the hotel to gather his things.

  He hadn’t been able to believe the Union had kept him in the National Hotel for the duration of the trial. He’d expected a demoted private to have been given much humbler accommodations.

  Turned out he had been right. When he’d asked his commanding officer about if he needed to change rooms to something cheaper, the man had been baffled and told him that the army had not paid for anything—Matthew was responsible for his own boarding.

  Matthew chuckled. All along, it had been Mrs. Smith that had told the National to keep his room open for as long as he remained in Washington, and had put it to her account.

  He nodded at the man at the front desk before ascending the main staircase. For all her bluster, Mrs. Smith was one of the most generous people he’d ever encountered. He’d penned her a short letter last night, giving her his thanks and urging her to make haste toward Rosswood, as he had plans to wed her granddaughter as soon as he arrived.

  Matthew stuffed his few belongings into his Union haversack and slung the strap over his shoulder. He gave one final glance around the room before locking the door behind him. Down below, Matthew returned his key at the desk and then took a hired coach to the train station.