Honor Bound (Shades of Gray Civil War Serial Trilogy Volume II)

by Jessica James

  “Do not waste your time,” she snapped, her gaze intent on the field below.

  “Why not?” He leaned toward her. “She may be someone I wish to know.”

  “I can assure you that is not the case. You of all people should know that I do not make good company, Major.”

  Hunter did not let her words deter him. “I do not presume to know you well, Miss Evans. But I believe …” He paused, unsure he should continue. “I believe that perhaps pain and despair have been a substantial part of your life, and to fight the world seems more practical to you now than to tolerate or endure.”

  He watched an unmistakable grief steal into her eyes. “There you have it, Major. My life in a sentence. Well done.”

  Hunter’s heart thudded at the look. He leaned forward to touch her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Please forgive me if I did.”

  Andrea continued staring skyward, intent on watching the moon rise higher, grow larger and shine brighter. “I’m not the first to submit to the mysterious law of pain and sacrifice for deliverance from evil,” she finally said. “Please don’t give me the honor.”

  “But I know you’ve undergone great hardships.” Hunter decided it was too late to stop now. “Great risks that were perhaps unnecessary.”

  “The reward is equal to the sacrifice. Nothing I have done is unnecessary.” She stared over his shoulder with a faraway look as she absently rubbed her leg. “I know you are convinced of the righteousness of your Cause, Major, but your convictions are misguided. Can’t you see that the soil of Virginia is soaking in the blood of your misplaced patriotic devotion?”

  Hunter leaned back and crossed his arms. He admired her spirit, despite the fact that she remained determined to be his enemy. He sighed with exasperation. “Someday, I hope I can get you to see my point of view.”

  “Major, I already see your point of view. I simply don’t agree with it.”

  Hunter shook his head in feigned dismay. He knew she could not be induced to yield a point when she thought she was right…and she pretty much always thought she was right. He had to admit her willful, stubborn strength was admirable, even if her manners were sometimes insufferable.

  They both grew quiet…she staring at the stars, he gazing at her. “I suppose we’ve solved one thing tonight,” he said at last. “We both follow the dictates of our conscience.”

  Andrea looked up at him sharply, as if she understood where he was taking the conversation. “If you’re questioning the dictates of my conscience, I have my reasons.”

  “Your father?” Hunter saw her wince before her gaze locked in on his. Eyes that were sometimes the color of emeralds turned dark as a thunderhead.

  “What do you know about my father?”

  “You…spoke of him in your fever.”

  Andrea blinked repeatedly, then looked away. “It’s part of the past. Ancient history.”

  “But the physical scars cannot be so easily forgotten.”

  Her eyes darted up to meet his again.

  “Doc told me,” he explained.

  Andrea stood and turned away, leaning heavily on the chair, obviously shaken at the thought that he was peeling away the layers of her past. Hunter could see her chest heaving as she appeared to reflect on the pain and horror of her youth. It was hard for him to imagine a child living through the trials and anguish she must have endured. Harder still to conceive the strength and resilience that grew from it.

  “You needn’t talk about it. I don’t wish to revive unwelcome memories.”

  Andrea took a deep breath and gazed up at the stars. “It was a long time ago.” She shrugged as if it meant nothing to her now. “I placed myself between my father’s whip and a slave thinking it would stop him.” Her voice trembled at the memory. “But clearly, it did not.”

  Hunter closed his eyes, imagining the scene. “The sacrifice was worth the cost I hope.”

  “It did no good.” Andrea turned back to him. “He sold the slave, a boy of eight, the next day. And his mother . . .” She swallowed hard as if the words would choke her. “His mother hanged herself that night.”

  She said it matter-of-factly, but the pain in her voice was unmistakable. When Hunter looked into her dry, staring eyes, he saw more sadness than a thousand tears could hold. He understood now why hostility and vengeance were a part of her soul, recognized that her impervious nature was a veil to cover the inner turmoil. All this, because she carried on her narrow shoulders the burden of two lives for which she could in no way be responsible.

  Gone was the rebellious, defiant spirit to which he was so accustomed. Before him stood an innocent, fragile child, whose only companions had been anguish and torment.

  Hunter watched her head rise another notch, as if rejecting the memories that consumed her. For a brief moment, he had glimpsed the pain behind the mask, but the curtain descended again as she stared out at the night.

  At least he had learned another slice of truth from her past. She had apparently inherited her beautiful eyes from her mother…the pain and anger in them from her father.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, taking a deep breath and looking down. “No one knows about that. I don’t know why I told you.” She spoke in a casual tone, but it was plain to see by the way her fists were tightly curled that she still carried the torment of distant memories in her heart.

  “Those people…like your father,” Hunter said, his brow creased at her distress. “They are not the ones fighting this war.”

  “But they are the ones it’s being fought for!” Her cheeks turned red with passion.

  Hunter sighed, knowing it would be useless to argue. His words of conciliation were not going to change her emotional animosity toward the South. He stood beside her in silence, his shadow touching hers as the moon continued its dazzling slide across the horizon.

  “Hawthorne looks beautiful in the moonlight,” Andrea said at length. “Did you command the heavens to produce such a display tonight, Major?”

  Hunter looked skyward at the moon behind her head, and shrugged. “I’m home now. My control over the celestial bodies was completed hours ago.”

  “I think I will always remember this night when I see a full moon.” Closing her eyes, she opened her hand to the night air and brought it toward her, closing it as her fingers touched her heart.

  “What are you doing?”

  She looked up at his gaze of confusion. “Saving the moment.” She closed her eyes again and smiled. “I close my eyes, feel the breeze on my face.” She paused and inhaled deeply. “I smell that honeysuckle right below us, envision the horses grazing in a pasture flooded by moonlight … Then I catch it all in my hand and save it forever in my heart.” She brought her closed hand once again to her heart.

  The sound of thundering hooves interrupted the conversation. A group of horses came into view, galloping in the path of a moonbeam before disappearing over a hill. Hunter watched Andrea stare out into the darkness, her face taking on a wistful, radiant look at the scene before her. “So beautiful here,” she whispered.

  Hunter was glad for the interruption. “It gives me great pleasure to know you enjoy Hawthorne. Where do you call home?”

  Andrea looked genuinely surprised at the question and fell silent for a moment. “I … well …before the war, I lived with my cousin Catherine.”

  “Well, what about after the war? You have to have someplace to call home. Certainly you’ve thought about marriage, a home of your own.”

  Andrea laughed that soft, infectious laugh he loved to hear. “I am open to the idea, but I do not have a lot of faith in finding a man who will put up with my…free will, as you call it.”

  “You may have a point there.” He winked to show her he was joking.

  “And what of you?” She gazed skyward again. “You will marry again? Or have you given up on love?”

  He gazed at her, contemplating the question and her bluntness in asking it. “I’ve not thoug
ht about it in quite those terms. Let’s just say I’ve given up on the thought of perpetual and everlasting companionship.”

  She sighed. “I suppose I’m lucky to have never known companionship. I don’t know what it is, so I cannot miss it.”

  Hunter frowned at her rationale and her sudden seriousness. “You’re much too young to think of going through life alone.”

  “I’m nineteen. Almost anyway. Old enough to know that trusting a man enough to marry him would require more courage than is within me.

  Hunter blinked. “Almost? You told me a year ago you were nineteen!”

  “I did not wish you to think me a child,” she said, shrugging.

  He stared at her as he thought back. Then she was only seventeen while eluding him. Just a youth … yet possessing the cunning, courage and commitment of someone much advanced in age. Woman or child? She could scarcely be considered one or the other, yet possessed distinctive elements of both.

  He reflected on her earlier statement. “It does not require courage to love someone and marry.”

  “I didn’t say I could not love a man, nor do I doubt the divinity of the institution. I said I could not trust one. I told you before, Major, it is not in my nature.” Her gaze turned skyward. “Trust is an ability that I have lost or has died, or was left out of me at birth.”

  “You can’t go through life without trusting.”

  “Trusting. Needing. They are one and the same. I prefer to rely on myself, depend on no one, and expect nothing in return.”

  The pain in her voice startled him. “You can’t allow your past to dictate your future.”

  Andrea looked up at him with searching eyes, as if she yearned for him to impart some magical insight upon her. “Do you speak out of sympathy?”

  “I believe I speak out of experience.”

  He watched her gaze slowly drift away to somewhere over his shoulder, then her eyes grew wide with amazement.

  “Major,” she said, pointing behind him, “look.”

  As if on cue, a cock crowed in the distance. Hunter turned to see the first pearly glimmers of light slicing through the darkness in the east. The jagged shapes of trees had already started to materialize against the slightest patch of pink.

  They had talked all night.

  “It wasn’t my intention to keep you so long.” Andrea’s eyes remained focused on the sunrise. “The hours fled so swiftly …” She drew her attention away from the spectacle for a moment to meet his gaze. “But I thank you for the conversation. It was quite…engaging.”

  Hunter knew she meant the remark sincerely and smiled, then wondered why her words had elicited such a response. He generally found conversations with women nothing less than tedious, yet he had just conversed the night away with one. He sighed at his own confusion.

  When he looked back around, the sky had taken on the impression of an artist’s masterpiece, with swirls of deep pink and lavender floating in stratified layers of lacy wonder. He felt he was witnessing a miracle and knew he had never seen the dawning of a new day arrive with such splendor.

  But as magical as the vista in front of him appeared, the beauty that stood beside him was also not without effect. She stood so near he felt her dressing gown touch his leg, and he tensed at the contact.

  “I don’t believe I will ever see its equal.” Andrea’s voice was soft as they stood in the lingering glow of dawn, sharing the spectacle before them.

  Hunter studied her, thinking he should perhaps admit aloud that the beauty of the sun in the painted heavens was nothing compared to that of the one who stood beside him watching its appearance.

  “I’m sure you wish to get some sleep, Commander.” Andrea casually reached for the support of his arm to help her back into the house. When she looked up, her eyes met his and lingered for the breadth of a heartbeat—long enough for Hunter to get the impression he had just witnessed a miracle that had nothing to do with the dawning of a new day.

  He smiled again, dazed, remembering his weariness of a few hours ago that had vanished at the sight of her. Dismissing his confused thoughts, he assisted her back to her room.

  “Good night,” he said, bowing.

  “You mean, good morning, Major.” She smiled broadly.

  He smiled too, then tried to assume his normal detached persona. “I stand corrected. Good morning.”

  After closing the French doors behind him, Hunter could not resist one more contemplative glance eastward. Something had awakened in him with the dawning of this new day. Something vague—yet something so distinct, he knew he would never look at sunrises or full moons the same again.

  Chapter 31

  There is no animal more invincible than a woman, nor fire either, nor any wildcat so ruthless.

  – Lysistrata

  Andrea made her way down the stairs, her thoughts a million miles away. She had last seen Major Hunter more than a week ago, but suddenly couldn’t get him off her mind. Had something happened to him that caused these unexpected reveries? Or did a sixth sense tell her he was on his way back to Hawthorne and she would see him soon?

  The thought caused her to unconsciously reach up to touch her neatly braided hair and smile.

  “Adrian. I see you’re improving, dear.”

  Andrea lifted her gaze to find Victoria staring at her from the bottom of the stairs. “You will be leaving soon, I suppose.”

  Andrea had tried to avoid an encounter with Hunter’s haughty houseguest ever since Victoria returned from her trip to visit friends. But despite her best efforts, it appeared a confrontation could no longer be avoided.

  “It’s Andrea. And I will leave when I am ready, thank you.” Andrea continued down the stairs with her shoulders back, trying to appear unruffled and composed. “I have attempted to mind my own business, Miss Hamilton. I hope you will do the same.”

  Victoria took two steps up and one to the side, which completely blocked Andrea’s path and somewhat took her aback. Never before had Victoria so much as nodded in her direction, let alone attempted a conversation.

  “But I feel badly that you have been placed in this uncomfortable position…it being the chief of the world’s evils.”

  Victoria’s tone now sounded more conciliatory, but Andrea knew there must be a deeper meaning. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

  “The odious third party, my dear!”

  A rush of emotion swept through Andrea, but she successfully suppressed the urge to respond. Instead, she moved sideways to avoid the obstruction and tried to continue on her way. Victoria, however, put her hand on the bannister rail and once again blocked Andrea’s path.

  “Very well. We’ll play it your way. How much do you want?” Victoria’s voice was visibly strained, and the look on her face appeared dark and vengeful.

  “How much what?”

  “How much money will it take for you to leave here?”

  Andrea laughed, thinking she was joking.

  “Do you think I don’t notice how you look at him? How you flirt with him?” Victoria’s voice was now so shrill and grating that Andrea knew she was not joking. “Oh yes, I see how you detain him!”

  The words caused Andrea pause as she tried to recall ever having given the impression that she had any romantic interest in Captain Hunter. The thought was so absurd that she merely shook her head. Victoria apparently needed someone to blame for Hunter’s detachment and obvious lack of interest in her.

  Victoria took Andrea’s silence for acceptance of her version of events. “I just want to make sure you understand how…awkward this is for us.” The condescension dripped from her tongue. “We…Alex and I…have a longstanding relationship.”

  “Is Major Hunter aware of it? Because I’ve never heard it mentioned.” Andrea nodded her head and smiled. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” She picked up her skirts to proceed, but Victoria reached out and grabbed her by the arm. “This is a mistake. It has to be. Alex wo
uld never allow a complete stranger in his home. It’s not like him.”

  Andrea did not struggle. She merely leaned closer and looked the older woman in the eyes. “The mistake is that you have confused my tolerance at being in your company for approval. But let me be clear, if you do not remove your claws from me, I will break them.”

  Victoria recoiled quickly and abandoned her act of sweetness. “You are being unfair and inconsiderate. At the very least, I believe we should exchange bed chambers.” She fiddled with the lace of her sleeve as she spoke. “It is not reasonable or practical for me to be on the opposite side of the house.”

  Andrea felt the blood rush to her cheeks at the insinuation. “Pray do not disgrace yourself beyond remedy, Miss Hamilton…if indeed that has not already occurred.”

  Victoria reacted with a shriek and wagged her finger in Andrea’s face. “You have no ideah how to speak to a lady, let alone be one!”

  With self-control she was not even aware she possessed, Andrea merely smiled. “If that were true Miss Hamilton, you would not be trying so hard to get me to leave.”

  “Why you brazen—” Victoria stopped in mid-sentence. “I see what you are doing. I’m not stupid, you know!”

  “I suppose I will be forced to take your word on that.” Andrea tilted her head and studied the woman intently. “Though you must realize that reality weighs heavily against you.”

  “You little Maryland magpie. How darah you speak to me that way. Look at you! No hoops, no shoes half the time, your hair all wind-blown. I don’t understand why Alex—”

  “Miss Hamilton,” Andrea interrupted, her temper wearing thin. “Please don’t waste your breath barking at me. I have no fear of dogs. Even distempered ones. Kindly step aside.”

  Victoria’s eyes opened so wide, Andrea thought for a moment they might never return their normal size. “You cannot speak to me that way. I will not allow it!”

  “It appears I already have,” Andrea responded with a defiant tilt of her chin. Then she lifted her cane and held it in front of Victoria’s face. “If you do not step aside of your own free will, you will not only see this, you will have the occasion to feel it.”