by Nan Ryan
Mitch finally spoke. “I will never lie in a hammock again without thinking of this sunny afternoon here with you.”
“Me, neither,” Suzanna said. “Mitch, how long will you be in Washington?”
Tenderly caressing her bare bottom, he said, “I figure it’s about one-thirty in the afternoon. Which means I have another hour.”
“That’s all?” Her head shot up.
“It is. We’d better get up and go inside.”
They laughed again as they gathered their strewn clothing and hurried in. In the parlor Mitch said apologetically, “There’s no time to heat water for baths. I’ll bathe and change at the hotel. Could you wait until you get home to…”
“Certainly,” she said, stepping into her knee-length pantalets.
As they dressed, Suzanna attempted to question Mitch. It still didn’t work. To her dismay he was no more forthcoming than he had been the last time she was with him. He stubbornly refused to talk about where he was going, where he had been or anything to do with the war.
When they were fully dressed, Mitch picked up a small black leather bag from beside the cold fireplace—a bag Suzanna hadn’t noticed before.
“Ready?” he asked, gripping the bag’s handle.
“What’s that?” she said, inclining her head. “Did you bring your pajamas along, then decide you didn’t want to spend the night with me?”
“You know better than that.” He shrugged wide shoulders and said, “My musette bag. I take it everywhere I go.”
“I see. And inside are…?”
“Papers. Maps. Dispatches. Nothing that would interest you, sweetheart.”
Suzanna wanted to kick herself. If only she had noticed the musette bag when she arrived! Mitch had been sound asleep then. She could have looked through all the documents the bag contained. She could have gone away from here with something valuable to pass on to her trusted couriers.
“Is anything wrong, Suzanna?” Mitch asked, noticing her frown.
“No, I…no, it’s just I wish you could stay longer. Spend the night.”
“So do I.”
She stepped closer, laid a hand on his chest. “You’ll come back as soon as possible?”
“You know I will,” he said, and ran his fingers over the delicate gold chain lying on her throat.
“I love my beautiful necklace,” she said. “How can I ever thank you?”
“You already have.”
She smiled. “I’ll count the minutes until you come back to me.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me goodbye.”
Twenty-Six
The passion Mitch Longley had awakened in Suzanna did not change her true feelings for him. While her body responded to his masterful caresses, her heart remained untouched. The physical relationship in which she so willingly engaged, had but one cold-blooded purpose—to aid in the defeat of the Union.
Her hatred of the Yankees was as strong as ever and she never forgot for a moment that Mitch Longley was the enemy. The enemy who had taken everything from her—her sweetheart, her brother, her mother, her home, her livelihood.
And now, finally, even her dignity.
She had nothing left to lose, a fact that imbued her with reckless courage. She had no fear of the future for the worst had already happened.
Suzanna genuinely liked spying. She considered herself to be an able espionage agent who proudly served the Confederacy. She would do so until the war ended. The parties at Mattie’s and the trysts with Mitch were but a part of her duties. As bold and brave as any man, she galloped headlong through the night on more than one occasion, carrying cipher messages to commanders in the field. And when the rare opportunity arose, she even sneaked into rooms to eavesdrop on Union Army conferences.
Suzanna shocked friends and acquaintances—including Mattie Kirkendal and Dr. Milton Ledet—by visiting camps and calling on generals and colonels in their tents. She constantly courted danger, and on at least one occasion, Federal commanders heard that she had passed information to the Confederacy that might interfere with their well-laid battle plans. Called on the carpet and presented with the damning facts, Suzanna used her overwhelming femininity to save herself. She appeared frightened and young and apologetic, and assured them she’d meant no harm, her big blue eyes filled with remorse as she spoke in a soft, childlike voice.
It worked beautifully and she found that the Federal commanders were quite gallant, almost as chivalrous as any Southern cavalier. They let her go with a warning and reprimand.
As Suzanna carried out her assignments, she took care not to be away from her rented rooms too long at a time. She knew that any day or night Mitch might show up unexpectedly and want her to rendezvous with him. She was prepared to drop everything on a minute’s notice.
To her surprise, Suzanna was afforded ample warning of his next visit. A note arrived on Friday, August 5, saying he would be in Washington late Sunday evening. Would she meet him at the cottage? Spend the night?
Suzanna read and reread the note. Her blue eyes turned wintry and her lips thinned as she said aloud, “Sure, Admiral. I’ll spend the night with you, so long as you bring your musette bag.”
* * *
Suzanna was waiting at the cottage on that warm August Sunday afternoon. She had considered bringing prepared food for their evening meal, but had quickly decided against it. She hatched a foolproof plan. Once Mitch arrived and they’d relaxed for a while, she would declare that she was absolutely famished. But, she would inform him, she didn’t really feel like going out to dinner. Would he please go into the city and bring a picnic hamper back to the cottage?
Suzanna paced the parlor now, rubbing her hands together, planning her strategy for the night ahead. She was hopeful her plan A would work. If not, she would implement plan B. Plan A was that Mitch would leave her at the cottage and go out for food, giving her plenty of time to scan the dispatches in his musette bag. Plan B was if he refused to go without her. Then she would wait until he was sleeping soundly later tonight. She would get up, slip into the parlor and search through the dispatches.
One way or the other, she was intent on leaving here tomorrow morning with something worth passing on to the Southern generals.
Suzanna was abruptly pulled out of her reverie when she heard horses’ hooves striking the ground close by.
Mitch.
She took a deep breath, swept her long hair back off her shoulders, pinched her cheeks and bit her lips. She flipped open three or four buttons of her white summer dress to ensure that he could see, resting in the hollow of her throat, the sapphire he’d given her the last time they were together. She smoothed the gathers of her full, bell-like skirts. Then, hands folded, a warm, welcoming smile on her face, she waited expectantly.
Mitch walked through the door and Suzanna felt her pulse quicken. In uniform, the eight gold stripes denoting his rank of rear admiral gleaming on the sleeves of his blue tunic, he looked handsome and weary and quintessentially masculine.
“Suzanna,” he said in that rich baritone as he dropped his black leather musette bag and opened his arms wide.
“Mitch,” she breathlessly replied, hurrying to him and feeling his strong arms immediately close around her.
For several seconds Mitch held Suzanna in his embrace, silent and unmoving, eyes closed, inhaling deeply of her clean, pleasing scent. Her face pressed against his tanned throat, arms around his waist, Suzanna realized, with no small degree of dismay, that she could hardly wait for him to kiss her. Stunned by the recognition, she quickly reminded herself that kissing him was all in the line of duty. She didn’t actually enjoy it.
But deep down, she knew better.
Pressing her close against his tall, lean body, Mitch slid a hand up and gently clasped the back of her neck beneath her long tresses. He urged her head back, looked into her eyes for a heart-stopping instant, then bent his dark head and kissed her with a raw sexual hunger that instantly awakened her smoldering passions.
Suzanna fel
t her knees buckle.
When their lips separated, Mitch swept her up into his arms and carried her directly into the bedroom. Minutes later both were as bare as the day they were born, and making ardent love in the soft feather bed.
They were still there at twilight, luxuriating in the warm afterglow of lovemaking. Satiated, lazy and relaxed, Mitch groaned when Suzanna broke the comfortable silence.
“Mitch,” she said, slowly running a toe up his hair-dusted leg, “I’m starving.”
“Mmm. So am I.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
“Get up and go out to dinner, I suppose.”
“I’ve an even better idea.” She raised her head, pushed her tumbled red hair back off her face, and smiled at him. “Let’s dine here.”
“Great idea save for one little problem. There’s no food in the cottage.”
“I know, but you could go to your estate or to the hotel and pick up something. Think what fun it would be to have a picnic right here in bed.”
“You promise not to get dressed while I’m gone?”
“I promise,” she said, and kissed him.
* * *
On that same hot Sunday afternoon, a strapping Scottish fellow, wearing a signature green fedora with a bright red feather in the sweatband, was in a secret meeting with a distinguished, white-haired vice admiral of the Union Navy.
The Scotsman was Allan Pinkerton, head of his own detective agency and a man who had gained instant notoriety a few years back when he’d discovered a counterfeiting camp headquarters. He had rounded up the gang in a coup that delivered the largest counterfeit ring ever caught in the United States.
Pinkerton was a lucky Scot. While he was performing a security measure for a railroad company client, he had come across a plot to have the newly elected President Lincoln assassinated before he reached Washington, D.C., to take the oath of office. The plot was uncovered while Lincoln was in Philadelphia. Pinkerton had requested and been granted an immediate meeting with Lincoln, thus saving the president elect’s life.
When war broke out, Pinkerton was hired to head up the newly formed secret service. His main duty was to spy on the South. Of late Pinkerton had begun hearing unsubstantiated rumors of an elusive, flame-haired female operative who was boldly passing cipher messages to the Southern commanders in the field.
“You have no idea who the young lady might be?” Vice Admiral Gregory C. Bond asked now as the two faced each other across the admiral’s desk in the deserted Capitol building.
“I don’t, sir. It’s whispered she was caught once and managed to talk her way out of it.” Pinkerton shook his head in disgust. “The Federal commanders let her go with a warning. Didn’t even get her name.”
“She must be one persuasive young woman.”
“So it would seem. But she’ll slip up sooner or later. They always do. When that happens, I’ll be there to arrest her.”
Admiral Bond nodded. “I know we can depend on you, Allan.” He rose to his feet. “It’ll soon be sunset. Can I buy you a drink?”
Pinkerton smiled. “Don’t mind if you do.”
* * *
He almost caught her.
Mitch returned to the cottage sooner than Suzanna had expected. When she heard the drumming of hoofbeats, her heart pounded. She scrambled to gather up all the documents she had carefully spread out on the floor. Her hands shaking, she stacked the papers in the exact order in which she had found them. She shoved the bundle back inside the leather bag and placed the bag by the door where Mitch had dropped it earlier.
Suzanna raced into the bedroom, shedding his black silk robe as she went. She anxiously snatched up the nightgown she had brought with her, yanked it over her head and let it fall down her body.
When Mitch walked into the cottage, he called her name.
“In here, darling.”
Mitch put down the heavy wicker basket, which was filled with delicacies and two bottles of fine wine. He walked into the bedroom and paused in the doorway. Suzanna, in a delicate, pale blue lace nightgown, was propped up in bed. Her flaming hair was fanned out on the stacked pillows and her legs were curled under her. One of the nightgown’s lace straps had fallen down her arm. She was smiling seductively and toying with the sapphire suspended from the gold chain.
“I missed you,” she said, and he believed her.
Mitch felt the muscles of his belly tighten. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was a striking fair-skinned, blue-eyed beauty. But it was more, much more than that. She was a devastating mix of vulnerable innocence and underlying passion. An irresistible combination. He had never known a woman like her. Never wanted one the way he wanted her.
“I’m falling in love with you, Suzanna,” he said honestly.
“Well, I should hope so, darling,” she replied, getting out of bed and swaying provocatively toward him, the message in her heavily lashed blue eyes and lush, lace-covered body unmistakable.
But when Mitch took her in his arms and kissed her, all Suzanna thought of were the secret dispatches she had read in his absence.
She could hardly wait to pass on their contents.
Twenty-Seven
The information Suzanna gleaned from Mitch’s dispatches proved to be invaluable to the Confederacy’s navy. Intelligence she passed on to her couriers was promptly delivered to the Southern flagship, CSS Virginia.
The Virginia’s captain learned that a big Federal ironclad would be steaming into Chesapeake Bay to ambush his vessel. Forewarned, the Southern commander had the element of surprise on his side, and he was lying in wait for the enemy. The minute the frigate was spotted, the Virginia’s gunners concentrated their fire on the pilothouse.
A shell blinded the Union ship’s commanding officer, forcing a withdrawal until he could be relieved. The advantage gained by the delay meant victory for the CSS Virginia, with not a single loss of life among the crewmen.
When Suzanna heard of the Virginia’s victory, she was proud of the small part she had played in it. She didn’t spend a minute worrying that the tip she had passed on could be traced to her. Elated, she went at once to Mattie Kirkendal’s to share the good news.
* * *
“Why, Suzanna, come in, come in,” said Mattie. “Dr. Ledet is here and he’ll be so glad to see you. You must have read our minds—we were just talking about you.”
“Oh? And what were you saying?” Suzanna asked as she accompanied Mattie into the drawing room.
“My dear,” said Dr. Ledet, rising to his feet. “How lovely to see you.”
Suzanna smiled, came forward, gave the white-haired physician a hug and said, “Mattie tells me you two were talking about me. Should I be concerned?”
To her surprise, the doctor did not laugh or smile. Instead he looked her in the eye and said, “Yes. Perhaps you should be, child.”
Suzanna blinked in confusion and glanced at Mattie.
“Sit down, Suzanna,” said her friend. “May I get you something? Tea? Lemonade?”
“No, nothing. Thank you.” Suzanna saw the identical expression on both their faces. Warily, she sat down on the brocade sofa, looked from one to the other and said, “Let’s have it. What’s bothering you two?”
Dr. Ledet looked at Mattie. Mattie waved a hand, indicating he should begin. The physician nodded, then cleared his throat. “Suzanna, while Mattie and I are proud of you and are, of course, eternally grateful for all you’ve done for the Cause, we’re…Well, frankly, we’re worried sick about you and we…that is…”
Mattie impatiently interrupted. “What you’re doing is far too dangerous, Suzanna.”
“Oh? And what exactly am I doing, Mattie?” Suzanna assumed that Mattie and the doctor had long since guessed the truth—that she was having an affair with Mitch Longley.
“You’re taking too many risks,” Mattie said. “You’ve been incredibly lucky, but you’re courting disaster.”
“Mattie’s absolutely right, Suzanna,” Dr. Ledet decl
ared. “You’ve done more than your rightful share, have sacrificed enough. Why not quit before something dreadful occurs?”
Suzanna said, “I appreciate your concern, really I do, but you’re both worrying needlessly. I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing and I can take care of myself.”
“We know you can,” Mattie said, drawing Suzanna’s attention back to her, “but…but…”
“But what?”
Mattie sighed loudly. “While Admiral Longley is obviously mad about you, he is not a stupid man, Suzanna. Sooner or later he’s sure to find you out and—”
Interrupting, Suzanna said calmly, “As I recall, it was you who informed me that if I could captivate the Yankee admiral, we would ‘have caught the biggest fish in the sea.’”
Mattie looked sheepish. “I did say that.”
“Yes, you did. Well, I have captivated the Yankee admiral, and while Mitch wisely refuses to discuss anything having to do with the war, he trusts me enough to leave pertinent dispatches carelessly lying about.” She paused, looked from one to the other and said, “I came here this afternoon to share some really good news with you. Have you heard about the CSS Virginia surprising a Federal ironclad at the mouth of Chesapeake Bay?”
Both nodded. The physician said, “I heard about it at my gentleman’s club this afternoon and came right over to tell Mattie.”
Mattie said, “I knew immediately that the intelligence you passed to our courier was responsible for the Virginia commander’s victory.” Brow wrinkled, she paused and added, “I’m so afraid Admiral Longley might suspect…”
“No, he doesn’t. And he won’t. There’s no reason why he should,” Suzanna said with quiet authority.
“How can you be sure?” asked Mattie, unconvinced.
Suzanna gave no reply. Shaking his head, Dr. Ledet said, “The poor unsuspecting fellow has fallen in love with you, hasn’t he, Suzanna?”
“Perhaps.” She shrugged her shoulders. “If so, that’s his misfortune.”
“Suzanna!” scolded Mattie, shocked by her indifference. “Have you no heart?”