Andrea looked up into Mrs. Fox’s eyes. “I’m sorry. You lost a son?”
She nodded. “He served under Colonel . . . Captain Hunter, at the time.” Her voice was raw with emotion. “He was a lieutenant.”
Andrea’s heart stopped beating. She closed her eyes, and grabbed the edge of the seat for support as a wave of dizziness swept through her as her mind drifted back to that day at Thoroughfare Gap.
“What’s wrong, dear? You don’t look well.”
Andrea looked up at her, but did not speak.
“Matthew and Alex were inseparable friends, grew up together.” She looked over at Andrea sadly. “He took it hard, Alex did. Felt responsible, I guess. But I never blamed him. How could I? He’s always been like a second son to me.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Andrea’s voice was just a whisper. “Was anyone else killed that day?”
Mrs. Fox looked at her curiously. “No, dear. Alex would draw blood with his teeth before he would let the Yankees get too close to his men. But there were some prisoners taken, I believe.” She shook her head sadly. “I think Alex took it even harder than I. He swore to me he’d extract in Yankee blood the value of my loss.”
Andrea gulped. “I’m sorry, I-I-’m not feeling very well. Can we go back?”
“My dear, we’re almost there. It’s all this talk about Matthew, isn’t it? I’m sorry to have upset you. It’s been more than a year now. I should not have brought it up.”
Andrea felt nauseous. The incident at Thoroughfare Gap had been a little more than a year ago, when Hunter was still a captain. If Matthew Fox had died there, it was because of her. She may have caused the death of the only son of the only friend she had in this godforsaken land!
Andrea tried to breathe without gasping for air, but she felt like she was drowning as Hunter’s words from that night echoed in her ears. “My loss was severe, more so in the worth than the number slain.” She swallowed hard, felt the blood draining from her face, and tried to concentrate on the moonbeams adorning the meadow.
“Ah, here we are,” Mrs. Fox said, turning the team into a tree-lined drive. “Feeling better?”
Andrea took a deep breath at the sight of a house gleaming from afar. She looked around then, and thought the drive looked strangely familiar. Searching her mind, she could think of no reason for such a reflection. As they ascended a long, covered ally of trees, the house appeared again, ghostly in the light mist, but luminous with twinkling lanterns. Already the sounds of music and laughter floated in the breeze, and Andrea tried desperately to turn her thoughts to other things. She was here. There was no turning back now.
As they crowned the last small rise, the house appeared in full view. Horses, dozens and dozens of them, all meticulously groomed and looking sleek and swift, stood tied indiscriminately throughout the yard, along with drays, carryalls, traps, coaches, and carriages.
It seemed that all of Virginia had been seeking an opportunity to celebrate, and Hunter’s escape from an ambush had provided it. In the fashion in which the house was lit—and from the noise emanating from its depths—this party was fit to do honor to a king.
* * *
Hunter had just taken a sip of punch, which he almost discharged onto the man next to him, when Andrea came through the doorway. Dressed in the colors of dawn, candlelight flickering off her hair, she appeared as magnificent as nature itself. Although holding the hand of Mrs. Fox for support, she gave the impression she was entering on the arm of royalty.
Allowing his gaze to drift to the men who stared openly, Hunter looked back to the entranceway and felt his heart uncharacteristically pick up its pace. Andrea was smiling demurely at one of his men, Lieutenant Pierce, who apparently had not bothered to wait for the proper introduction. He bowed and kissed her hand with his usual pugnacious chivalry, examining her in such a way that made his intentions obvious.
Hunter shifted his weight uneasily, thinking what could happen should the tall, broad-shouldered lieutenant discover the true identity of the one whose hand he held so lovingly now. He knew how quickly that expression of lust would turn to loathing.
Pierce was well known for his ability with women, and was equally renowned for his ability with a gun. Hotheaded and temperamental, he was a man who, when riled, relied heavily on bullets and fists. Hunter would have dismissed a lesser man in a minute, but Pierce was not unworthy to be considered among the bravest in his ranks.
Taking a sip of his drink and nodding mechanically at Victoria’s incessant chattering beside him, Hunter watched Andrea turn and fix her attention musingly on the crowd. He thought he saw strong admiration and a flicker of wonder cross her face before a shadow of deep regret crept into her expression. Following her gaze to the far side of the room, Hunter blinked in surprise when he saw it was the Southern Banner that had evoked the remorseful expression. Turning back to analyze the gaze, he saw it had disappeared. The charming smile had returned.
A movement in a side doorway suddenly attracted Hunter’s attention, and he watched Carter give him the “all’s quiet” sign. Hunter nodded in acknowledgment and again his gaze drifted to Andrea. Yes, all’s quiet—as is a powder magazine until a match is lit.
* * *
When Andrea entered the room on Mrs. Fox’s arm, her heart beat wildly and her stomach flipped and churned. When she glanced around the room, her emotions overwhelmed her even more. The men gathered before her were not officers wearing new costumes of gray and brass like those in Richmond. Here were soldiers wearing uniforms that showed signs of heavy wear; soldiers who looked accustomed to hard living—and harder fighting.
But Andrea found she was not frightened by what she saw. She gazed upon them with admiration for what they were—noble, brave, tenacious warriors. Their weapons and their manner attested to their familiarity with desperate combat. Yet, despite their martial appearance, they did not seem to be the ruthless horde she had imagined. Rather, all had eyes glowing fervently with patriotic devotion.
For a moment, Andrea stood and stared. These were her enemies, yet now they had faces and names. Now she was close enough to know they had families and homes, girlfriends and wives. Her gaze drifted to the Confederate banner hanging on the wall. How pitifully tragic this war has become. All hate suddenly drained out of her, replaced by sorrow and confusion. Virginia and her inhabitants had begun to affect her heart in a strange and mysterious manner.
Mrs. Fox’s hand pressed hers in comfort, but Andrea felt suddenly apprehensive when she sensed Hunter’s penetrating gaze upon her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his gray eyes trained on her like an animal watching its prey. Even with the distance between them, the sight made her tremble.
Andrea placed a smile upon her face and pretended to take no heed. “Miss Evans?” Andrea half-jumped and turned toward the sound of the voice.
“My name is Fannie … Fannie Mae Madison. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Andrea looked into the soft, warm eyes of a woman several years her senior. She appeared more shy and reserved than many of the others in the room, her fingers nervously toying with the sleeve of her gown.
“Mrs. Fox told me about you,” she said, apparently noticing Andrea’s confusion.
“Not too much I hope.” Andrea smiled at the woman while glancing at Mrs. Fox.
“Oh, no, don’t worry. Not too much. Only that you reside temporarily at Hawthorne.” Fanny cleared her throat. “I suppose … I suppose you have occasion to see a good deal of Major Carter.”
Andrea followed the woman’s gaze to Carter, who appeared intent in a conversation with a young recruit across the room. “Yes. Enough to know that he is quite a fearless soldier … and a gentleman.”
“Yes, I think so too.” Fannie’s words and her longing eyes revealed her feelings clearly. Before Andrea could say anything else, Fannie pointed over her shoulder. “Oh, it looks like Laura Talbert is trying to get your attention.”
Andrea turned to follow the girl
who had been motioning toward her, but paused in the dimly lit hallway trying to see where she had disappeared.
“Miss Evans,” Laura said, grabbing her wrist. “This way.” She unlocked the only closed door, hastened Andrea through, and closed it behind them. In the pitch-black room, Andrea waited for the lamps to be lit.
“I’m sorry to accost you like this, Miss Evans, but I had no idea Colonel Hunter had a houseguest other than Victoria. Why, everyone is talking about it! You must tell me everything that goes on at Hawthorne.”
“Miss Talbert,” Andrea said, turning to face the girl when the room became illuminated. “I’m afraid I—” Andrea stopped and gazed around the room, then down at her hands that rested on the back of a chair. She jerked them away and took a step back as if the chair had turned and bit her.
“Miss Evans,” Laura said. “Is something wrong?”
Turning slowly, as if excessive movement would make her fall, she looked over her right shoulder. Yes, there was the map on the wall, and beside it, the door to the outside where they had brought her in. The room even smelled the same, the sweet odor of pipe smoke, mixed with the scent of freshly oiled floors.
Andrea’s heart stopped beating for a moment as recognition slowly sank in. This was the same room where she had been brought when captured by Hunter’s men. The room where Hunter had, she thought, committed her to prison. The Talbert house was his headquarters. And he did not want her to find that out—even now.
The door opened with a loud groan. “Miss Talbert, Miss Evans, what a pleasant surprise.” Hunter wore his customary expression of composed nonchalance, yet he appeared and sounded like a stranger to Andrea.
“Colonel Hunter,” Laura said, looking nervous. “I just brought Miss Evans in here to talk in private and get acquainted. It is so loud out there.”
“I see.” He stared at Andrea with a cold smile that matched the cool glint of ice in his eyes. “Why don’t you offer her a seat?” He nodded toward the very chair where Andrea had sat while being interrogated.
Andrea stared at the chair as if it were already taken. She knew Laura was waiting for her to do something or say something, but she was too dizzy with confusion. “No. No thank you. I believe I’ll stand,” she finally muttered.
A few of Hunter’s men wandered into the room, apparently thinking there was something of importance occurring.
“I cannot imagine why you would wish to get better acquainted,” Hunter said in a loud voice. “Seeing that you are a loyal Virginian, and Miss Evans is a—” He stopped himself, but the damage had been done.
Laura flinched and looked at Andrea, apparently waiting for her to speak up and defend herself. Yet Andrea said nothing, revealed nothing. In silent pride, she gazed over Hunter’s shoulder, her eyes fixed on a spot on the wall.
“You are a most deceptive man, Colonel.” Andrea finally spoke in a tone low enough so only he and Laura heard her words. “There was a time I had almost thought you a gentleman.”
Laura attempted to lighten the air. “Come now, Miss Evans, you’ll break the Colonel’s heart with such talk.”
“Truly? I was not aware he possessed one. Now if you will excuse me.” Andrea curtsied politely and nodded toward the others in the room. “Gentlemen.” Her eyes lingered slightly longer on Lieutenant Pierce than on any of the others, and his eyes consumed hers before she swished out the door.
* * *
“Pierce!”
Lieutenant Pierce, who had started to follow Andrea, stopped in his tracks and turned impatiently toward Hunter. “Sir?”
“Leave her alone.”
Pierce blinked and looked back over his shoulder toward the disappearing figure, obviously not willing to relinquish her quite so quickly. “But, I …” He turned his back on Hunter and continued to scan the crowd as if the statement was a suggestion that he could heed or disregard at will.
“That is an order, Lieutenant.”
Pierce swung back around and stared at Hunter with a look of contempt.
“Is there something about that order you do not understand?”
One of the men walked up and patted Pierce on the shoulder. “Calm down, Pierce. This is a party. No sense getting in an uproar over a woman.”
Pierce shrugged the man off, while others stepped in between the two officers. That Pierce was hotheaded enough to pick a fight with a man twice his size was common knowledge. It was hoped he would not be foolish enough to pick one with his commanding officer.
“I believe I understand it perfectly,” he said, saluting Hunter with a feigned display of respect. “And may the best man win.”
The words had barely left his lips before Hunter stomped over to him, at which time those who had moved forward deemed it prudent to take a few steps back. The looks being discharged by the two men boded ill for eyes and jaws and anything else in range of the fists that were being clenched.
“I have no time to stand in contemplation of who is the better man,” Hunter said from between gritted teeth, “but I expect my order to be followed.”
Pierce stared Hunter in the eyes for a moment before turning around and departing in disgust. Laura, meanwhile, gave Hunter an unkind look and followed Pierce, while the rest of the men filed out of the room behind them.
Hunter stood alone, breathing heavily, as he acknowledged that he had not only failed to keep the powder keg away from the flame, but had caused the incendiary spark that ignited the explosion.
Chapter 43
“Land of the South, imperial land, how proud thy mountains rise,
How sweet thy scenes at every hand, how fair thy covering skies!
But not for those, oh, not for those, I love thy fields to roam;
Thou hast a dearer spell to me, Thou art my native home.”
– Land of the South by Alex Beufort Meek
Andrea kept walking. She limped out the door, breathing in gasps at the exertion and the pain shooting through her leg.
That room! This house! She had no idea what she had been getting into. Yet Hunter had, and all along. How dare he stand there so smugly, knowing she recognized the room and the memories it wrought. Damn him! And damn his men! And damn this whole damn war!
By the time Andrea came back to her senses, she had passed the gate of the estate. She did not care. If she stopped walking, she feared she would explode. The throbbing of nerve endings in her leg felt excruciating, but she was too angry to acknowledge it.
From out of nowhere, she heard the sound of a wagon coming up behind her, and then a voice. “May I take you somewhere, Miss Evans?”
She glanced up at Major Carter and walked faster. “I do not care for a ride, thank you.”
Carter urged the horses forward, then pulled them across the road in front of her. “I can be as stubborn as the next person,” he said. “Git in.”
Andrea stopped, but only for a moment. In her rage, she struck the side of the wagon with her cane. “Move this blasted rig out of my way!”
The officer sighed, got down from his seat, and grabbed the cane from her hand. Tossing it into the back, he held her arms by her side. “You can get in by yourself, young lady, or I can help you.” His tone let her know it was useless to argue.
Flipping her nose in the air and struggling free from his grasp, Andrea clumsily climbed aboard. Carter took his seat, picked up the reins, and clucked to the horses.
“You’re not very talkative,” he said after they had ridden quite a while in silence.
“I only speak when I have something to say.”
Carter looked at her sideways while popping a cigar into his mouth. “Interestin’ trait for a woman.”
The remark would normally have angered Andrea, but tonight her mind was a million miles away. She stared at the moon as she tried to keep her thoughts from wandering back to what had just transpired.
“It appears the lady folk wished to have some inside information on the Colonel,” Carter finally said as if stating the obvious.
A
ndrea wondered how he knew what Laura had wanted, and then grew angry all over again. “Yes, and how ironic that I have only just come to learn that I live in the same household with a man who is worshipped in Virginia only slightly less than the Lord.”
“Yup. He may not be the Almighty, but he’s a darn close relative.”
“Oh, please,” Andrea spat. “I did not accept this ride to hear about the godlike hero of Hawthorne. And please speak no more about the honor and virtue of one who enjoys the spoils of war almost as much as the blood that flows in its procurement.”
Carter pulled the horses to a sudden stop. “You are misinformed on that count, young lady. The Colonel does not, nor has he ever, shared in the partaking of the spoils of war. The men are permitted to take what they need, the rest is forwarded to the Confederate government. The Colonel has never taken so much as a spoonful of coffee without paying its full price.” He turned back to the horses and snapped the reins.
Andrea blinked in the darkness. Hunter had never disputed the allegation when she had accused him of taking plunder. He allowed her to think the worst, probably with the assumption she would not believe him anyway.
“Despite your hostility toward the Colonel, I think you’re probably a remarkable young lady.”
Andrea laughed outright at the comment, but knew the sound carried no humor. “There are those who would take issue that I’m a lady at all.” She looked gloomily at the house as they pulled up to it, her wistful gaze apparently not escaping Carter.
“I believe you’re probably mistaken on that point, too,” he said, helping her from the seat.
Andrea held onto his arm a moment and looked up into his face. Browned by sun and aged by weather, he possessed a countenance that obviously masked more than it expressed, yet was somehow profoundly handsome. “You are returning to the party?”
“Nope. I owe you a debt of gratitude for giving me the opportunity to escape.” He laughed while turning to retrieve her cane from the back.
“But Fannie will be so disappointed,” Andrea said without thinking. “I would be distressed to think that I am the cause.”
Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia Page 33