Mrs. Davis ignored the innuendo. “Discussions of slavery have ruined many a Washington party of late.”
“Not to mention millions of lives.”
Mrs. Davis scowled. “Do you think all parties are frivolous? Or is it just my having a birthday party – at my advanced age?”
“Your advanced age?” Anna giggled and shook her head. “You’re what? Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Anna chuckled. “Was that your feeble attempt to point out how much younger you are than I? You really shouldn’t try subtle insults, Varina. You’re simply not smart enough.”
Mrs. Davis set her jaw. “What is it about me that you so dislike, Mrs. Van Buskirk?”
“I cannot think of anything in particular, Mrs. Davis, unless it is the fact that you continually gossip about me behind my back and omit me from your guest lists.”
“My failure to invite you does not seem to prevent you from attending.”
“No, but it does cause me to go in search of a married man who is on your guest list and whose wife is indisposed or otherwise.”
“Fortunately for you there seems to be an endless supply of men who are willing to leave their wives at home for the favors of other women.”
“Fortunately,” Anna agreed.
Mrs. Davis looked away momentarily, then took a deep breath and faced Anna. “I wonder if we might just call a truce?”
Anna shrugged. “Why? Aren’t we having fun?”
“Are you aware that we are cousins on the Howell side?” Mrs. Davis asked.
“I am cousin to half the population of New York and New Jersey. What is this truce that you are proposing?”
“If I were to include you on my guest list would you stop attacking the President in your newspaper column?”
“No. The President is a pinhead who is, without a doubt, the worst president in American history.”
“Well you could at least say something complimentary upon occasion.”
“I could not say anything complimentary about him unless it was an outright lie.”
“Is there any truth to the rumor that you and Nancy Vreeland are lovers?” Mrs. Davis asked. Her eyes sparkled with the challenge.
“Yes. You cannot blackmail me with that, Varina. Nancy and I have been lovers since we were girls.”
Mrs. Davis looked shocked. “Really? I actually thought Senator Rucker was your lover.”
Anna nodded. “I have many lovers. My eye is currently on your husband, by the way. I think him quite handsome. Is he good in bed? Does he make love to you in the French way? If not, I could teach him for you.”
A vivid pink blush that began on the ample chest of Mrs. Davis climbed to her neck and spread to her cheeks. “Well…” she sputtered angrily. “Well.”
“You would be wise not to duel with me, Varina,” Anna said in a warning tone. “Your weapons are too flimsy and your constitution is too weak. Continue on your current course and I will bury you.”
“I will not be… That is…”
Anna stepped closer. “I know everything about you, Varina,” Anna whispered. “Everything. And I have a newspaper with nation-wide circulation in which to tell all that I know.”
“Well…” The anger was fading from the face of Mrs. Davis and fear was taking its place.
“Shoo.” Anna waved her hand and Mrs. Davis obediently hurried across the room.
Nancy Vreeland had been watching the exchange and crossed the room to join Anna. “Varina looked ill. Did you poison her when I wasn’t looking?”
Anna smiled. “Varina has a dark secret and she thinks I know it.”
“Would you like to really know it?”
“Of course.”
“When she was seventeen she went to live on the Davis plantation. Her family was penniless at the time, but soon after Varina moved in with the Davis family, Varina’s father mysteriously came into money.”
Anna giggled. “How do you know that?”
Nancy smiled. “I might tell you some day, but I think I’ll keep that secret for now.”
“Speaking of telling. I told Varina that you and I are lovers.”
“Ugh.” Nancy made a face. “That’s disgusting.”
Anna giggled. “You chose to be a lesbian, not me.”
Nancy’s smile faded. “It wasn’t a choice, Anna. It was the way God made me.”
“Oh please.” Anna shook her head. “It was a rational decision. I remember the process you followed to make it. First, you decided that you didn’t like facial hair. Then you decided that you didn’t want children. Finally, you met Alice Fenton and discovered that you could have sex without facial hair or risking pregnancy. Shall I list the men who followed Alice?”
“We had better change the subject before I lose my temper,” Nancy said.
Anna looked at Nancy for a moment, then looked away. “Very well.”
“I can’t change who I am, Anna.”
“I’ve never asked you to change, Nancy. I love you just the way you are. But I have to admit that I really don’t understand you at all, and I don’t think you understand yourself.”
“Let’s go home, Anna. I’m tired and we’ve got a long trip ahead of us tomorrow.”
May 8, 1853
Jersey City, New Jersey
The railroad detective pointed at the open crates of rifles. “Are these yours, Ladies?”
“Of course not,” Anna replied. “Those are guns. We’re shipping books.”
“The crates say books on the outside,” the detective said, “but that’s not what’s inside.”
“There must have been a mix-up at the warehouse in New York where they were crated,” Nancy said.
“Yes,” Anna agreed. “Thank you for discovering the mistake before we arrived at our destination with those instead of the books.”
“You might as well save your breath,” the detective advised. “The only reason that you’re not already under arrest is that I haven’t decided if I’ll wire the District Attorney or a Federal Marshal.”
“It doesn’t matter who you decide to contact,” Anna replied. “We didn’t put those rifles in the crates and we didn’t inspect the crates before having them loaded on the ferry in Brooklyn. The City or Federal Government might charge us but they can’t make it stick.”
“There’s a third option,” Nancy said. “You could confiscate the guns and accept a token of our gratitude to the railroad for saving us the inconvenience and the expense of a lawyer.”
~
“He knows our names,” Nancy said as they walked out of the Camden and Amboy Railroad Station. “He could still report us to the authorities.”
Anna shook her head. “The moron signed a receipt for the money I gave him.”
Nancy looked back at the porter who was following them with an overloaded baggage cart. “Now what?”
“We’re close to Van Buskirk Point. Let’s go home and think about that.”
May 9, 1853
Van Buskirk Point, New Jersey
The morning sun was glowing on the new leaves as Nancy walked out of the front door. “I love spring here. We should stay for a week or two.”
Anna was sitting in a rocking chair. “There’s no reason why we can’t. We’re supposed to be on our way to Kansas.”
Nancy pulled a second rocker closer to Anna and sat down. “Let’s go for a walk in the woods later. Do you remember that clearing with all the flowers?”
“The one with the little pond where we saw the swans?”
Nancy nodded. “Do you suppose it’s still there?”
“I don’t see why not. Nobody ever goes up there.”
“Your mother was furious at us for wandering off that far.”
“She was always furious at me for something.”
“The way I remember it, you were always provoking her.”
Anna shrugged. “Maybe. Were you here with us that last Easter that Jack’s wife Caroline and Little John were alive?”
Na
ncy shook her head. “I was in love with Jack at the time. Seeing him happily married would have been too painful.”
“It seems to me that you were having an affair with William.”
“If you could call it that.” Nancy sighed.
“I got into a fight with Mother and went back to Washington,” Anna said. “I wasn’t there for the Easter egg hunt. I’ve always regretted that.”
“You had a horrible temper, back then.”
Anna nodded. “I was always angry.”
“Maybe you had good reason.”
“Maybe. But I still wish I’d seen Little John’s egg hunt.”
“That may be the last time your whole family was together,” Nancy said.
“I think it was.” She giggled. “I remember my father settling an argument. Caroline and I were coloring eggs, right here on the porch. Little John snatched an egg and ran off with it. Caroline and I were both upset because without that egg we’d have an odd number. My father solved it by taking an egg from my basket and cracking it. ‘Now you have an even number again,’ he said.”
Nancy giggled.
“I didn’t appreciate how wise he was until recently.”
“He helped me through the worst time in my whole life.”
Anna looked surprised. “You never told me that.”
“And that’s all I’m going to tell you.”
Anna sat back in her chair. “Ah. It was Dad that invited you to stay with us.”
“Yes. With your mother’s permission, of course.”
“I was oblivious to everything.”
“That’s the way I wanted it.”
Anna turned to look at her. “If we’re going to hike in the woods you better get dressed.”
“Let’s go tomorrow. I’d rather just sit here and look at the water right now.”
December 24, 1853
Manhattan, New York
During the previous summer the central courtyard of John Jacob Astor’s Park Hotel had been covered by an elliptical vaulted cast-iron and glass “rotunda” and converted to a dining room. Tonight a Viennese waltz orchestra was seated on a temporary tiered platform and the center tables had been removed to turn the dining room into a Christmas Eve ballroom.
Caitlin Livingston laughed as Cadet Johnny Van Buskirk whirled her across the floor. The gaslights made her eyes sparkle like the diamonds in her tiara. “Isn’t the music wonderful?”
“Having an excuse to hold you in my arms is all the wonder I need,” Johnny replied.
“I think you want to kiss me.”
“You’re as wise as you are beautiful.”
“Perhaps I’ll share my blanket with you on the sleigh ride home.”
“And what else will you share?”
“I may let you hold my hand, naughty boy.”
“No kisses?”
“We’ll see.”
Johnny’s brother Cadet Paul Van Buskirk and his cousin Captain Quincy Van Buskirk were standing at the curved bar, opposite the orchestra. “I think she’s a smashing girl,” Paul said.
Quincy shrugged. “Perhaps she is. It may be that she’s too immature for a man of my age.”
Paul watched Caitlin swirl by in his brother’s arms. “She’s sixteen and looks pretty mature to me.”
“I prefer more experienced women. They know what life’s about.”
“Are the ladies in South Carolina as charming as I’ve been told?” Paul asked.
“Indeed. When you’re a bit older I might tell you about them.” Quincy used hand signals to order them another drink.
December 25, 1853
Van Buskirk Point, New Jersey
Nancy sat up in bed, yawned noisily and stretched. “Merry Christmas, Anna.” She patted the lump in the bed beside her. “It’s after eight.”
“Lemme sleep ten more minutes,” Anna grumbled into her pillow.
“Come on. Get up. You can have the bathroom first.”
“You go ahead.”
“The boys will be eager to open their gifts and Caitlin Livingston is coming over from Elizabeth.”
“Uh-uh.”
“What does uh-uh mean?”
“The boys didn’t get home from New York until just after dawn. Paul was drunk as a lord. Caitlin and her brother went with them so she’s not going to show up any time soon.”
“Paul was drunk?”
“Very.” Anna rolled over and blinked at Nancy. “I think Quincy may have been too, but Paul was the loudest.”
“How about Johnny?”
“From what I heard, Johnny and Caitlin were huddled under a blanket sharing saliva all the way back.”
Nancy giggled. “Sharing saliva? Did they say that or did you just make it up?”
“The boys said swapping spit. I cleaned it up.”
Nancy giggled again. “Johnny’s turning into a Don Juan.”
“He’s definitely more interested in women than any of the other boys.”
“I don’t think he’s any more interested, he’s just more successful,” Nancy said. “The other two feign indifference to hide their jealousy.”
“Do you think Quincy’s handsome?”
“Of course he is. Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering about his lack of success with girls.”
“That won’t last long,” Nancy said. “He’s going to break a slew of hearts before he settles down.”
“Oh no,” Anna groaned.
“What?”
“Didn’t you hear that?” Anna asked.
“Yes. It was the screen door. Mrs. Keller just let someone in the back door. So what?”
“I must have been wrong about Caitlin.”
“Maybe it was the milkman or the iceman.”
“On Christmas morning?”
“Okay, I’ll go entertain her while you get dressed.” Nancy got up, put on her robe and slippers, then stopped in front of the mirror to unbraid and brush out her hair. “Do you think we should have a talk with Caitlin about how babies are made?”
“She has a mother for that.”
“What about Johnny? We’re the only parents he has here.”
“You do it; I wouldn’t be comfortable talking about sex with him,” Anna replied. “I never even discussed it with my own son.
“If I talk to him he might interpret it as me making a pass.”
Anna giggled. “Now that I seriously doubt.”
Nancy put down the hairbrush and opened a pot of rouge. “Well I’m not going to do it.” She rubbed the surface of the rouge with her index finger, touched each cheek then added color to her lips. “If Caitlin and Johnny ruin their lives, I’m not accepting any part of the blame.” She soothed the pink dots onto her cheek bones.
“Let me think about it.”
Nancy started for the door. “Don’t be long, please. I didn’t take a bath last night and I feel grimy.”
“I’ll get dressed without bathing and relieve you, then you can up and bathe.”
“No. Go ahead and take your bath. I’ll be okay.” She hurried out, down the hall and skipped down the stairs.
Caitlin was at the kitchen table drinking hot cocoa with the Widow Keller. Mrs. Keller was employed as cook and housekeeper for the season, but she behaved like the matron of the manor.
“Good morning, Mrs. Keller,” Nancy said. She kissed Caitlin on top of her head. “Merry Christmas. Did you get any sleep?”
“Not a wink,” Caitlin replied. “We didn’t get home from New York until the sun was almost up. I just changed my clothes and came straight over here.”
“Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Yes. But it was worth it. The music, the decorations and the gas-lighting was wonderful.”
“Not to mention bundling in the back of the sleigh.” Nancy walked to the stove and poured herself a cup of coffee.
Caitlin giggled. “That was the best part. Who told you?”
“A little bird.” Nancy sat down.
“I’ve got eleven children,”
Mrs. Keller announced loudly. “The first one started under a blanket in the back of a sleigh.”
Caitlin blushed. “We only shared a few kisses.”
Nancy stifled a giggle. “Anna said that the boys were in their cups. I slept through the whole thing.”
“I heard ‘em, but went right back to sleep,” Mrs. Keller replied. “Boys will be boys.”
“Quincy and Paul were very tipsy,” Caitlin added. “My brother drank so much that he passed out. We woke the whole house trying to carry him up to bed. My father was furious at him.”
“You didn’t drink?” Nancy asked.
“Johnny wouldn’t let me. But a lot of the other girls were drinking.”
“In nine months some of them girls will be getting’ the same surprise I got with me first born,” Mrs. Keller said as she stood up. “You young ladies get outta me kitchen now. I’ve got work to do.”
Nancy followed Caitlin into the parlor. “Are you and Johnny serious about each other?”
“He’s more serious than I am, but don’t tell him I said that.” She walked across the room to stand by the fire.
“I won’t.” Nancy sat down.
“If you’re worried that I’ll wreck Johnny’s career, don’t. I know he’s a soldier and I’ll never marry a soldier. But he’s the best kisser I ever knew.”
“That could be trouble,” Nancy murmured.
February 28, 1854
New Orleans, Louisiana
Marina and Josiah were standing on the balcony of their hotel room, watching the Mardi Gras revelers pass just below. Josiah whistled and waved at a girl in a nearly transparent gossamer costume who was riding on a white horse. “Lady Godiva, I reckon,” he chuckled. The girl waved back.
“I once threatened to march bare-breasted in the Fat Tuesday parade,” Marina said.
“Now’s your chance,” Josiah replied. “I won’t stop you.”
“If I had done it back then, men would have whistled and cheered. If I did it now they’d throw stones.”
“Oh I don’t know, Marina. You still get my blood a-boilin’ okay.”
She laughed. “But you’re easy.”
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