Defiant Hearts

by Janelle Taylor

  After the meal, Laura gave Jayce the customary treats to enjoy along his journey, wrapped in a clean white cloth, then—and only for him—bound in a lace-trimmed handkerchief and dotted with her perfume. Perhaps that was brazen, but she couldn’t resist giving him a reminder of her, at least for as long as the perfume held its scent. She watched him glance at the bundle, lift his blue gaze, and smile in knowing appreciation. She heard deep emotion in his voice when he thanked her and said his farewell, and she hoped she didn’t misread its meaning. She realized there was no privacy from other guests for sharing special words, yearning looks, or even a friendly southern embrace and peck on the cheek. She smiled and said, “Good-bye, Lieutenant Storm; may God ride with you and protect you, and bring you back to visit with us again.”

  “If He and Fate are willing, Miss Carlisle, that’s a promise. Good-bye.”

  Laura left the foyer, locked the passageway door, and hurried home to watch his departure. She moved from room to room and window to window to catch every glimpse of him as he saddled the black stallion, secured two pouches in place, spoke with Alvus, mounted, and began his journey. He sat tall and straight. A resolved expression was on his handsome face, as if his thoughts had reached his perilous destination ahead of his virile body.

  She saw him halt for a minute at the end of the drive and withdraw her scented hanky from his pocket, telling her he had removed it from the cloth bundle before storing the treats in his saddlebag. As he held it under his nose, she watched his broad chest expand and relax twice as he inhaled her fragrance. Afterward, he stuffed the item under the jacket cuff at his left wrist and headed southeast on Cary Street, soon leaving her sight.

  Though she had witnessed the romantic and thrilling gesture, her troubled mind worried, Will I ever see you again? Will you meet another woman in another town and forget about me when I can never forget you? Is it crazy and rash for a Union spy, a traitor to your Cause, to fall in love with a loyal Confederate officer who could break my heart and spurn me?

  The answer came quickly as words tumbled from her lips. “Yes, Laura Adams, and you might live to regret that weakness if you aren’t exposed and executed first. Don’t think about him any more today or everyone is going to read your gloomy mood like an open book. You have important work to do, so get busy! Get to work discovering the facts in Captain Munns’s head and pouch; do whatever you must to help end this war, fast.”

  Chapter Six

  At four o’clock that afternoon, Laura left the hotel to do book work at home. As she settled down at her desk, she was joined by Lily.

  “All the chores are done and everything’s quiet over there for a while. I told Cleo to ring the bell if I’m needed. Do you miss him already?”

  Laura laughed and jested, “He’s only been gone for a few hours.”

  Lily took a seat and fluffed her pale-blond hair. “Does that mean no?”

  Laura knew her windows had pegs imbedded in them to prevent anyone from raising them high enough to sneak into her home; yet, with them open during summer, she and Lily kept their voices low to avoid being overheard by an eavesdropper. “I enjoyed his company and I don’t get out much with gentlemen, so I suppose I will miss him. I admit I’d like to see him again. But on the other hand, it could be dangerous to spend much, if any, time with a man who appears to be so intelligent and perceptive.”

  Lily focused a light-blue gaze on Laura. “Dangerous for you or for him?”

  Laura put down her pen and turned in the chair to face her friend. She chose her words with care since they also applied to Lily and Richard. “For both of us. I can’t risk getting emotionally involved with any man in the near future, especially a Confederate officer, because it could distract me and jeopardize my work for the Union. A romantic relationship could also be hazardous to him if I’m exposed and it’s common knowledge we’ve spent time together. If his interest is genuine and he’s a good man, wouldn’t it be selfish of me to endanger his life? Besides, he wouldn’t give me a second glance if he knew what I was doing to help end this war; I doubt my good intentions would matter to a dedicated Rebel; he’d drop me like a hot pan just out of the oven. No match could be more ill-fated than one between a Unionist and Separatist. To pursue Jayce Storm would be asking for trouble and anguish.”

  “You’re right, Laura: love can be risky even without those obstacles.”

  “Love? I only met him last Friday. Does it work that fast?”

  Lily grinned and nodded. “It can hit you like a bolt of lightning on a clear and sunny day.”

  “But I would recognize it as love, wouldn’t I?”

  “At first, you might not think it’s that serious. With me long ago, I was dazed and blinded before I realized what had happened. I was so convinced he loved me, I gave him anything he wanted. Everything. I was a fool, Laura, because I meant nothing more than a conquest to him.”

  “I’m sorry he injured you so badly, dear Lily.”

  “Don’t be; I was as much to blame as he was, maybe more so for believing his pretty lies and allowing him to mistreat me.”

  “It isn’t like that with me or with Jayce. He didn’t try anything improper. All he did was kiss me on the forehead like a brother or father.”

  “Big storms often begin with little gusts of wind and misty rain. Be careful of this Storm, Laura; there’s something about him that worries me.”

  Laura tensed when she saw Lily was serious. She wondered if her friend had noticed something about Jayce which she hadn’t. “Such as?” She watched Lily think for a moment, then shrug her shoulders.

  “I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s a cunning mystery. Don’t lose your wits around him.”

  “If he returns. Perhaps I’ll never see him again.”

  “I’m willing to bet a month’s salary you will see his face again and soon. Watch out for that hidden ace up his sleeve.”

  “Don’t worry about me so much,” Laura assured her friend. “I may be inexperienced with men, but I’m not naive or reckless.”

  “I know, but I want to protect you from sufferings like I endured.”

  “I appreciate your concern and advice, Lily; that’s what best friends do for each other.”

  “Would you like me to fix you a cup of hot tea before I leave?”

  Laura realized Lily wanted to drop the subject and to do something kind for her, so she nodded and said, “That would be nice, thanks.”

  While Lily prepared raspberry tea, Laura thought about Major Stevens. It seemed his romantic interest in her friend was genuine and strong but Laura hesitated to encourage Lily to pursue the officer. She didn’t want Lily to get hurt or humiliated again; it could be worse this time if Lily got the courage to take a second chance with love, only to be misused once more. It was a fact Richard was a member of the Georgia gentry, and such men did not marry ex-prostitutes. If a “gentleman” fell in love with “a soiled woman,” he made her his mistress, but he wed a woman from his social class, one with an acceptable bloodline. Laura didn’t want that kind of existence for Lily, even if it meant Lily would have the man she loved and would be…“servicing” only one male’s sexual needs. If love and marriage became a reality for Lily and Richard, Laura decided, she would be happy for them. Until that goal seemed attainable, she must not offer advice about Richard, just be a-sympathetic listener.

  Laura wanted to discuss her own emotional dilemma with Lily, but her friend’s attitude about men was so different from her own that she shied away from the subject. She didn’t want to make Lily miserable and perhaps envious of the possibility she herself could win the man she desired when it was improbable that Lily could do the same. Even so, it was doubtful that Jayce wouldn’t think as badly of her as Richard might about Lily if Jayce discovered she was a…madam, despite the fact she did not bed any of her patrons. Added to that angle was her spying for—

  Lily set down the cup of steaming tea as she said, “I almost forgot: Belle needs a new sponge and jar of vinegar from the ce
llar; I hope there’s some left. You know she hates those pessaries like Cleo and I use.”

  “Would you fetch them for her when you return to the hotel?” Laura asked, as she and Lily were the only two with keys to the cellar and to the passageway doors. After Lily nodded and said she should get back to work, Laura told her, “I’ll be over in an hour as soon as I finish this chore. Thank goodness Aunt Clarissa taught me how to keep the books or I wouldn’t know how to pay our bills and order what we need. At home, Father or one of my brothers took care of business matters. Perhaps I should teach you so someone I trust could take over for me in an emergency.”

  “I’ve never had much of a head for figures, but I’ll give it a try.”

  “Wonderful, Lily. We’ll begin your lessons next week.”

  Lily smiled, pleased with Laura’s faith in her, and departed.

  Laura made a mental note to check the contraceptive supplies for her three girls. Clarissa had kept plenty on hand before her death, and she herself had received a shipment in April when a southern privateer was able to run the Union blockade after a successful voyage abroad. Its captain, a regular patron when in the area, had not charged her for doing that favor, as he enjoyed free “visits” with the fiery-haired Cleo or ebon-haired Belle—an agreement practiced by him and Clarissa, and continued by her out of necessity. She recalled how the captain had put her at ease by never making lewd remarks about what was in the package or by using offensive expressions.

  Laura leaned back in her chair and thought about how the preventive measures worked. Most of her knowledge came from Clarissa, Lily, and the 1826 manual on birth control by Richard Carlile, Every Woman’s Book. She couldn’t imagine inserting a sponge soaked in vinegar or an herbal solution inside her feminine recess, or doing the same with a vaginal cup—a pessary—one of the 1850 improvements over the ’38 style. Obviously they—and the edible Artemesia, Daucus Carota crushed seeds, Asafaetida, and other foreign herbs—worked because none of the females in her employ had been burdened by an unwanted pregnancy. Her “ladies of the evening” were clean—rinsing their feminine regions with vinegar water or an alum solution after each encounter—and were disease-free, unlike some of the prostitutes who worked in common brothels on or near Lotus Street. Clarissa had made certain her patrons knew those facts and didn’t risk infections by visiting any low-class and hazardous locations.

  Laura grinned, pondering what her father and brothers would think about her having such knowledge. Her smile faded as she admitted she would terminate that area of her services if her business could survive without it; the books said no, since a third to a half of her monthly income came from what took place in rooms A, B, and C. Also, if she stopped she would have to let two of the women go and she feared where Cleo and Belle would be forced to relocate: probably Lotus Street, as no one would hire ex-prostitutes for decent jobs. In addition, there were too many tasks for Lily and her to handle alone. If she made the changes she desired, the business would go under, and she and the others would face hardships without a home and means of support. She wasn’t taking unfair advantage of the three women; they had chosen their…professions. If she lost the Southern Paradise, she would lose the means to continue her work for the Union, work that might help bring a swifter end to the war and save many lives, including those of her family, and hopefully, Jayce’s.

  You have no choice in the matter, so accept it. When the war ends, you can sell the place and return home and forget this part of your life.

  Laura took a deep breath, as that day seemed so long in coming. She wanted to go home; she wanted to be with her family; she wanted her life to return to normal. Please, God, let this end soon.

  On Wednesday, Laura learned that, following many bold strikes near Washington yesterday, General Jubal Early had been turned back by Union forces and was heading for the Potomac River, skirmishing along his retreat route. The reason for his hasty departure was that Grant had sent many troops to confront him. She continued reading several morning newspapers, which disclosed accounts of battles in progress elsewhere. Laura thought it best not to tell Lily that Sherman was north of Atlanta and pressing hard toward the capital, location of Major Richard Stevens. She felt there was no need to worry Lily when there was nothing she could do to help Richard.

  That night, while Lily was entertaining Captain Munns upstairs and the other two women were serving patrons in the parlor, Laura sneaked into the officer’s room to examine the man’s papers and maps. She knew she had to hurry, though Lily had said she could keep Munns busy for a long time. She was glad Munns had left a lamp burning. It was evident the man didn’t worry about anyone invading his room, as he had left his pouch lying on the dresser. As always, Laura noted how it was placed and didn’t disturb the order of the pages. With haste, she read and copied crucial facts, and marked the important sites on a map she had brought with her.

  Laura’s hands shook, her mouth was dry, and her body was tense and trembly. She knew she would have to recopy the notes later for them to be legible. She took care to record with accuracy, but worked with mounting anxiety and increased speed as time passed too swiftly to suit her. She made certain she was quiet, because Lily and Munns were next door in Room C. That was a perilous decision, but it would enable Lily to bump the adjoining wall as a warning they were almost finished with their encounter.

  Luckily, Laura finished the task before Lily had to signal her. She replaced the pages, then checked to be sure everything was just as Munns had left it. She sneaked from the room, locking the door behind her and feeling relief they had oiled all door hinges this morning. As she was heading down the stairs, Belle was ascending them with a patron.

  The dark-haired beauty with an earthy aura smiled and said, “Cleo may need help during the next hour; it’s busy down there; two patrons arrived to play cards with the others.”

  Laura smiled and nodded, keeping her gaze off the married man whom Belle had in tow with one hand.

  As she served drinks and chatted with several men, Laura’s tension mounted, aware of what was concealed beneath her full skirt. She prayed the papers didn’t made any revealing sounds or slip from their confinement and drop to the floor. She moved with caution to prevent either action from occurring and exposing her.

  It was thirty minutes before Lily entered the parlor, trailing Munns by ten minutes, as Lily had to freshen up after her session with him. Laura approached Lily and whispered, “Take over for me; I still have the items on hand. Belle is busy upstairs and I was needed in here.”

  A somber-eyed Lily murmured, “Hurry before trouble strikes.”

  Laura went to her house and concealed the papers in the chimney, breathing a sigh of relief to have them off her person. She returned to the parlor and began to play the piano to soothe her raw nerves. As she did so, she realized Ben and Grant would be thrilled by her news tomorrow night.

  Cleo came and sat on the edge of the piano bench for a few minutes. The redhead told Laura, “J. P. brung us flo’ers tonight. I put ’em in the vase on the sideboard. I spilt water on the lace scarf so I hung it in the kitchen to dry if you go looking for it. J. P. said he won a horse race yesterday, so he’s spending his winnings with us tonight.”

  “That’s nice of him. Coax every dollar you can from him,” she teased.

  “I just hope he don’t wanna go playing upstairs. He’s too homely to spark my flesh to give him a good romp.”

  “He’s never gone upstairs before, so I doubt he’ll want to tonight.”

  “He’s waving me over to give him luck with his cards, so I best skedaddle and keep him happy and emptying his pocket.”

  * * *

  Thursday morning, Frank left and she was glad to see the arrogant Alabama politician depart and hoped his return would be long in coming.

  Laura left for Petersburg around three o’clock that afternoon to set up a plausible reason for being on the road later tonight following her meeting with Benjamin Simmons. The soldiers she encountered en ro
ute did not question her motive when she showed them the cloth sack of ragdolls and animals—made by her and the other women at her establishment—that she was taking to children who had been injured by enemy gunfire and were hospitalized on the edge of town. Unknown to them, she also carried onionskin slips of paper hidden within the thick and snug curls atop her head and a map concealed beneath a fake bandage on her right arm, one dotted with chicken blood, a wound she claimed she received when a soldier’s rifle misfired and nicked her.

  She was on the outskirts of Petersburg for only a short time, but she found her gaze scanning the area for a glimpse of Jayce Storm, though she assumed he was positioned south or southeast of town. Perhaps, she decided, it was good she didn’t see him, or he might think she had deliberately set up a meeting. She turned the gifts—coming from her heart despite them being a cover for her rendezvous—over to a nurse and left after being thanked profusely, telling the woman she had to hurry home before dark.

  Laura rode to the spot where she met with Ben almost every week, one obscured from the road by dense trees and underbrush. If anyone came along before Ben appeared, she could say she was “excusing” herself during her ride home. She waited as darkness closed in around her, staying alert for trouble. At last Ben arrived, flashing her a broad smile.

  “I hope you got a heap of good news for me, Miss Laura,” he said and she nodded. “Fire away, my ears are open.”