Alex took the paper with dread. The look on Cal’s face warned him this wasn’t going to be welcome news. The note was succinct.
We’ll give you one week. Just remember, you can’t hide your daughter in Atlanta forever.
Alex slid his chair under the desk and, with elbows propped on its surface, buried his head in his hands.
“I’ll have to return to Macon tomorrow. This is too important to leave the major out of it.”
Alex raised his head and scrubbed his face with the back of his hand. He supposed Cal waited for him to respond, but his mind raced. All he could think of was Gillian in danger.
“What are you going to do?” Cal asked.
Rubbing the tension knotting the back of his neck, Alex moved his head from one side to the other. What could he do?
“You could send sentries to guard Amanda Brown’s house.”
“She already has guards at her estate, but I’ll discuss the matter with her.” How could his words come out so calm when his insides raged?
Cal got to his feet and slapped Alex on the back. “I’ve got to get going. Major Turley will want me to keep surveillance on Mr. Carey through next week. Expect any news to come through courier.”
Alex didn’t hear Cal leave. His hands balled into fists as a new worry wrenched his gut.
Was Gillian the target of that train wreck?
Chapter 11
After a quite dinner, Gillian made her way to her well-appointed bedroom suite. Her clothing had been stored away in the wardrobe that stretched across a third of the wall. A lacy nightgown lay at the foot of the huge four-poster bed. A green velvet tufted chair and ottoman beckoned her from a reading nook, recessed bookshelves on one side and a small table on the other, where a milk porcelain lamp burned low.
The lamp cast a soft glow, and she decided to leave it burning through the night. Some remnants of childhood fear made her abhor darkness. She crossed the polished wooden floor to the tall windows. They were closed, but louvers at the top opened to emit the cooler flower-scented night air. The chirping crickets would lull her to sleep.
She opened the curtains and gazed out at the lights of the city, still burning brightly. A soft knock turned her away from the peaceful scene. She wasn’t surprised to find Aunt Mandy at the door, but the beautiful young girl who followed her inside captured Gillian’s curiosity.
Her aunt, wearing a long flowing, blue lace dressing gown stopped at the bed. “I came to say good-night and introduce you to Purity, my houseguest. She has the bedroom next to yours and will be playing the part of your maid, since—” She laughed lightly. “We have a dearth of servants in the South at present.”
“Pleased to meet you, Purity.” The girl was obviously not a maid. All of Aunt Mandy’s servants wore uniforms, and Purity dressed like any well-to-do young woman. Gillian reached out her hand.
Purity gripped her fingers, but dipped into a curtsey also, as if she wasn’t sure of her station in life. “It will be my pleasure to make your stay a pleasant one.”
Gillian narrowed her eyes to take a good look at the unusual young woman. Beautiful she was, but it was an exotic beauty. Her glossy black hair, tied back with an ivory ribbon, cascaded into a mass of tight curls around her head. The low light made it hard to discern her complexion, but it appeared creamy without a hint of a freckle.
Her gaze settled on Purity’s arresting eyes. They were large and wide with dark smudges along the lower lids like the East Indian women Gillian had seen in London. But instead of dark brown, Purity’s eyes were much lighter, in different shades of gray, radiating from the irises. Silver to charcoal.
Gillian guessed her to be two or three years younger than herself and of the same slender build and height. Her maize polished cotton dress was cut in the latest style. But regardless of her unusual facial features, there was something familiar about this young woman.
She glanced to Aunt Mandy for a further explanation.
“Purity lost her entire family in the war. Her father was friends of your father, and so Gilbert took her in as his ward. She came to keep me company when he sold Lynwood.” Aunt Mandy refused to make eye contact, and Gillian suspected her aunt left out a great deal of the story.
“I’m so sorry about your family, Purity. We have much in common in that respect.”
“Yes, we do,” Purity said. “Much.”
Aunt Mandy squeezed Gillian’s forearm. “Since you’ll be spending some time with Captain Blaine as he shows you around the city, Purity will be your companion—for convention sake.”
That didn’t set well with Gillian. She might fade into the background if this beautiful girl sat beside her. Old insecurities surged, bringing with them a niggling doubt that Alex wouldn’t notice her when Purity was present. She wasn’t prepared to admit to jealousy. Yet.
“We’ll leave you to get ready for bed,” Aunt Mandy said, dropping a kiss on Gillian’s cheek as she passed her. “I know you must be tired.”
When the door closed behind Aunt Mandy and Purity, Gillian donned her nightgown and contemplated reading for awhile. A Bible lay open on the middle shelf of the bookcase. She ought to get back into the habit of reading a passage of Scripture before bedtime as was her custom in England, but she could hardly keep her eyes open.
She was climbing onto the huge four-poster when Aunt Mandy returned, not bothering to knock. Nor did she beat around the bush. “May I talk to you a bit, if you’re not too tired? It’s quite important.”
Yes, she was tired, but Aunt Mandy’s tone blew all thoughts of sleep from her brain. She patted the mattress beside her.
“Do you recall when you were just a little thing, and your parents had to go to Milledgeville for the legislative session? They’d leave you with me.”
“I recall perfectly. I especially remember when you’d leave in the middle of your parties to tell me good-night. You looked so pretty in your crinolines and lace. I pretended you floated in here on fairy wings.”
Aunt Mandy’s peal of amusement sounded strained. “Aren’t you glad those crinolines and hoops went out of fashion? They were so hot and heavy.”
“You didn’t come to discuss crinolines.”
Her aunt’s shoulders lifted in a sigh. “No. You doubtless were surprised by Purity.”
“Very. You never mentioned having a houseguest in your correspondence, and I’m sure I would have remembered such an unusual name.”
“I told Gilbert it was a mistake not to tell you he’d given her refuge, but he asked me not to.”
Why would Papa want to hide the fact Aunt Mandy had a houseguest? “When did she come to Lynwood? I don’t remember her.”
“Near the end of the war. I forget the exact date. Everything was so chaotic.”
“Why should it have been a secret? It seems to me a noble thing to do. Did Julia object?” The only reason for secrecy Gillian could think of.
Aunt Mandy’s mouth worked into a smile. “No, not at first. Most of the servants and all the slaves ran away. Julia treated the poor girl like a servant, but she was glad to have the help until recently. When they moved to the townhouse, Gilbert asked that I take her in. Which I was glad to do.”
It couldn’t have been because there wasn’t enough room in Papa’s house surely. “Why did Purity lose favor with Julia?”
“Reuben became too fond of Purity. Julia had ambitions for Reuben for a much better match than a penniless orphan.”
“She has ambitions that I will marry Reuben, and I’m practically penniless.”
“You are far from penniless, but I agree you and Reuben are totally unsuited.”
“Has Alex met Purity?” That question might sound out of place, but she wanted to know.
“Oh, yes, and I think she holds the captain in esteem.”
That bit of information left Gillian deflated.
Silence grew noticeable, and when Aunt Mandy made no move to leave, Gillian said, “Then I suppose we’ll all get along well.”
Her a
unt seemed shook out of some other train of thought. She started. “What? Oh, yes, I’m sure you will.” She drew in a deep breath. “Gillian, there’s something else about Purity you should know.”
“She does look familiar. Did her parents ever visit Lynwood?”
“Familiar?” Aunt Mandy’s brows swept upward. “I don’t recall the Draytons visiting Lynwood often, but Gilbert went to their Thomasville plantation every winter for hunting and fishing.”
Gillian gazed at the corner of the ceiling where the lamplight cast layered shadows. That’s why Papa had been missing nearly every Christmas of her childhood.
Aunt Mandy took her hand and stared into her eyes. “I must swear you to secrecy. Purity’s mother was a quadroon, which I suppose makes Purity an octoroon.”
“What?” The word came out strangled, and Gillian shot from the bed like she’d sat on a hot poker.
Aunt Mandy still held onto her hand as she stood. “I must ask you to keep this a secret, Gillian. No one still living knows, except me and Gilbert…and Purity herself. But you must know why Purity can’t socialize as we do, even though she passes as white.” She found Gillian’s other hand and gripped them both. “Purity will be your companion and attend your cotillion, but she’ll discourage any gentleman from forming an attachment. I felt you should know why.”
“Who is Purity’s white father?”
“I don’t know for certain, but assume he was Mr. Drayton.” With a tug of the hand, Aunt Mandy encouraged her to sit. “Purity isn’t the main reason I wanted to—had to—speak to you tonight.”
Another wave of anxiety hit Gillian, and she pulled her leg up under her gown to get into as comfortable a position as possible.
“The army intercepted a message to your father that mentioned you.”
“Me? Who was this message from?”
“They don’t know, but Alex and I agree it’s time you understand that your father is being blackmailed and money is being extorted from him.”
Her hand flew to her throat. She’d known something nefarious was going on, but this was…scary. She listened dumbfounded as Aunt Mandy explained the details of the threatening message.
“It would seem you are now leverage for these villains to extract whatever they wish from Gilbert.”
“What did they use for leverage before I came home?” She’d gathered a few snippets to guess Papa had been harassed for at least a year.
A sigh blew through Aunt Mandy’s lips. “No one knows.”
“Poor Papa. I should not have left him. He needs me.” She could return tomorrow and demand that he confide in her.
Her aunt gripped her arm. “No, you are much safer here. That’s why he wanted you to come. I expect Gilbert was on tenterhooks the whole time you were in Macon.” She withdrew her hand. “But for the next week, you must stay about the house. You and Purity and I will occupy our time by planning the cotillion.”
“But I wanted to see Alex.” She bit her lower lip, realizing how that sounded. “He’s going to locate Will—or his remains. I haven’t thought to even ask him how that investigation is going.” And she wanted to know the real situation with Papa. How deeply was Alex involved in that investigation?
“No fear, dear. Alex will be coming to supper each day and, if he can get away, to church on Sunday.”
Gillian’s mouth quivered into a smile as joy surged. This one bit of good news overshadowed all the unsettling things Aunt Mandy just related. She pursed her lips. If she wasn’t careful, she’d become far too infatuated with Alex. Or maybe already had.
Despite the fatigue of the day, sleep evaded her. She lay in the semi-darkness, staring at the bed’s canopy and never felt so helpless. All left to do was pray, and maybe that’s what she should have been doing all along. Every night she’d pray for Papa, Alex, and Aunt Mandy. And Purity. A charming young woman such as she should have a chance for happiness and love.
Just not with Alex.
***
Monday of the following week, Alex met Cal at the Grand Hotel Restaurant. He didn’t trust some of the officers in the General’s office. They were much too involved in politics.
He finished the last bite of a delicious chocolate soufflé, compliments of Jacque Rouget, the new chef, and lifted his cup of steaming coffee, waiting for it to cool and for Cal to finish off his dessert.
“I don’t think there are any prying ears in here. Maybe you should fill me in on what went on at the Carey household after I left two weeks ago. Besides the investigation into the shooting. No one menaced Gillian during that time, did they?”
Cal scraped up the last bit of soufflé. “Before she left, Gillian was gadding about with her friends and helping the O’Grady sisters with their charities. I didn’t see much of her, not even at meals.”
“And the vandalism of the farms has stopped since the capture of those drifters?”
“Except for the Lynwood Plantation.”
“What about Mr. Carey?”
“He’s had a steady stream of appointments with planters. Apparently, he puts them in contact with possible recruits for men interested in crop sharing.” He blew on his coffee. “Sometimes men come in looking for opportunities to hire themselves out. It looks like Mr. Carey serves as an employment agent to match up laborers or crop sharers to the land owners. I assume the owners pay him a sum for the service.”
“That’s his only source of income?”
“Except for the boarders. A new one came in, a shady looking character by the name of Murphy. He’s from Ohio is all I know about him. He doesn’t talk much, and I gather the O’Grady sisters are nervous around him. Major Turley has sent inquiries.”
“What happened on the Lynwood Plantation?”
Cal swallowed his coffee before answering. “A couple of days after you left, Richard Lyman reported to Major Turley he found the words, ‘Carpetbagger Go Home,’ scrawled on the side of his barn. We went out there. The area had been trampled so badly we couldn’t follow tracks, but it had to have been done at night. The usual Klan suspects were interrogated, but they all had alibis. We thought it was probably those drifters.”
He paused to drain his cup. “Then the other night, the barn was burned down.”
“What?” This was the most damage yet inflicted on any of the landowners.
“Yeah. The major wants me to check out every one of Mr. Carey’s customers, with only one new recruit to help me, that’ll take me till Christmas.”
“I suppose Mr. Carey is no more cooperative than before?”
“He claims not to know anything. The men who come to see him are scattered out all over the State, some out of State.”
“What about the local police?”
“They say if it’s outside the city, they’re not responsible.”
Alex glanced from left and right to make sure people at the next table weren’t listening. “Amanda Brown thinks Gilbert Carey is being blackmailed into refusing to take the loyalty oath.”
“Why? Assuming that’s true.”
“Because they know he would qualify and would win handily.”
“That doesn’t make sense. The Southern Democrats want to retake the government and oust the Radicals. They would need Gilbert Carey to win.”
“Assuming this gang who’s causing all the unrest, trying to take over the lands, are aligned with the Democrats.”
“You mean you, or rather, Mrs. Brown, think the trouble-makers are Radicals? She told you that?”
“No, not in so many words. It’s just a theory I have. Now that Gillian is up here, I may be able to gleam more. Amanda asked me to squire her niece about town. I expect she thinks Gillian can find out from me what General Terry and the governor is up to. However, I don’t know what Terry is up to other than he’s ready to leave the South altogether.”
“I’m of the same mind, but Major Turley certainly isn’t of that opinion. He’s wanting a promotion out of this before his retirement. I think he was really pleased you got shot in the Care
y house. It’s given him an excuse to hang around there.”
“He’s hanging around? He doesn’t trust you or the other men?”
“In a word—no. He’s been to dinner several times since you’ve been gone. Mrs. Carey invites him, I guess, thinking his presence will scare the enemy from any further attacks.”
“Interesting. Actually, I’m glad the major sent you up here. I’m taking Gillian to see the new capitol building tomorrow, and you can cover for me in case General Terry’s office needs anything.”
Cal waggled his brows. “Right. You get to squire the lady about town while I do the work. Has anything happened to threaten her this last week?”
Alex shook his head. “Not a thing. I have a couple of engineers checking into that train crash, but it doesn’t appear to have anything to do with Gillian.”
“Oh, speaking of Miss Carey, I almost forgot.” Cal dug into his coat pocket. “I got a reply to your inquiry into her brother—the one missing in action.”
Alex took the envelope, wanting to tear into it at that moment, but he had plenty of time to peruse it in private. He tucked it into his inside pocket. “Thank you. I hope it has some useful leads I can tell Gillian tomorrow. That might earn me some points.”
Cal laughed. “Points? It might earn you a kiss.”
Chapter 12
A noisy finch dragged Gillian from a fitful slumber. Sunlight spilled over the pretty, blue coverlet she’d kicked off sometime in the night. Still not familiar with the room’s layout, she squinted a heavy-laden glance around the wall until she spotted the clock. Almost nine o’clock. Ugh. Alex was due to arrive at ten. He could just cool his heels in the parlor for a while. That might bring Alexander the Great down a notch.
Aunt Mandy refused to tell her the truth about what subterfuge she and Alex were working on. She trusted Aunt Mandy, but reserved judgment about Alex.
Everything in her wanted to trust him. To believe he was different. However, she’d be prudent to get to know him better. Definitely something she wanted to do.
The Captain's Challenge (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 3) Page 12
