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

Home > Other > Honor Bound (Shades of Gray Civil War Serial Trilogy Volume II) > Page 25
Honor Bound (Shades of Gray Civil War Serial Trilogy Volume II) Page 25

by Jessica James


  “If you wished to see this room, Miss Evans, you need only have asked,” Hunter said. “You didn’t have to induce Miss Talbert to open the door.”

  Andrea looked at him blankly, and he returned the look with one of such condemnation that it needed no further words.

  Laura stepped forward, looking from one to the other confusedly as if she sensed the tension between them, but was not sure why. “No. It isn’t her fault. I brought her here.”

  “Perhaps. But you don’t know Miss Evans like I do.” Hunter spoke so coldly that even Laura flinched and looked at Andrea, apparently waiting for her to speak up and defend herself.

  Hunter didn’t give her the opportunity. “I did not know you two were acquainted.” Hunter turned his attention to Laura, giving her a cold smile that matched perfectly the cool glint of ice in his eyes.

  “W-we just met tonight.” Laura blinked her eyes innocently as she spoke but glanced nervously at Andrea, as if she was not sure what she had gotten in the middle of.

  Andrea recovered somewhat and tried to help Laura. “We’ve just met, but we discovered we have a lot in common.”

  A few of Hunter’s men had wandered into the room, apparently thinking there was something of importance occurring there.

  “I can’t imagine what you have in common,” Hunter said loudly. “Miss Talbert is a loyal Virginian, and you….” He stopped as if not wishing to finish in front of a crowd.

  Laura flinched and looked at Andrea, apparently waiting for her to speak up and defend herself, to tell the Colonel what a wonderful duty she had performed. But Andrea said nothing, revealed nothing. In silent pride, she gazed over Hunter’s shoulder, her eyes fixed on a spot on the wall as she allowed his insinuation to hang in the air unanswered. Despite her allegiances, the dishonor of such a remark in this room full of gallant men was simply beyond her ability to try to defend.

  “You are a most deceptive man, Colonel.” Andrea finally spoke in a tone low enough so only he and Laura heard her words. “There was a time I had almost thought you a gentleman.”

  Laura attempted to lighten the air. “Come now, Miss Evans,” she said, clapping her hands as if to clear the air of their dark conversation that she didn’t quite understand. “You’ll break the Colonel’s heart with such words.”

  “I am not aware that he possesses one. Now if you will excuse me.” Andrea curtsied politely and nodded toward the others in the room. “Gentlemen.” Her eyes lingered slightly longer on Lieutenant Pierce than on any of the others, and his eyes consumed hers before she swished out the door.

  * * *

  “Pierce!”

  Lieutenant Pierce, who had started to follow Andrea, stopped in his tracks and turned impatiently toward Hunter. “Sir?”

  “Leave her alone.”

  Pierce blinked and looked back over his shoulder toward the disappearing figure, obviously not willing to relinquish her quite so quickly. “But, I …” He turned his back on Hunter and continued to scan the crowd as if the statement was a suggestion that he could heed or disregard at will.

  “That is an order, Lieutenant.”

  Pierce swung back around and stared at Hunter with a look of surprise.

  “Is there something about that order you do not understand?”

  One of the men walked up and patted Pierce on the shoulder. “Calm down, Pierce. This is a party. No sense getting in an uproar over a woman.”

  Pierce shrugged the man off, while others stepped in between the two officers. It was common knowledge that Pierce was hotheaded enough to pick a fight with a man twice his size. It was hoped he would not be foolish enough to pick one with his commanding officer.

  “I believe I understand it perfectly,” he said, saluting Hunter with a feigned display of respect. “And may the best man win.”

  The words had barely left his lips before Hunter stomped over to him, at which time those who had moved forward deemed it prudent to take a few steps back. The looks being discharged by the two men boded ill for eyes and jaws and anything else in range of the fists that were clenched.

  “I have no time to stand in contemplation of who is the better man,” Hunter said from between gritted teeth, “but I expect my order to be followed.”

  One of the men walked up to Pierce and squeezed his shoulder convincingly. “Come on, Pierce. Let’s go for a walk.”

  Pierce stared Hunter in the eyes for a moment before turning around and departing in disgust. Laura, meanwhile, gave Hunter an unkind look and followed Pierce, while the rest of the men filed out of the room behind them.

  Hunter stood alone, breathing heavily, as he acknowledged that he had not only failed to keep the powder keg away from the flame, but had caused the incendiary spark that ignited the explosion.

  Chapter 51

  Better to slip with foot than tongue.

  – Benjamin Franklin

  Colonel Hunter was livid as he put out the lamps in his office. Whatever revelations she had made tonight had been brought on herself. He had warned her not to come. And anyway, he’d discovered some new revelations of his own tonight that both surprised and intrigued him.

  The approach of Laura’s mother as he prepared to leave the office did nothing to improve Hunter’s mood. Bedecked in a gaudy blue gown that did nothing for her appearance, she cornered him as he was re-locking the door.

  “I dare say, Colonel, I believe my daughter really deserves some credit for your victory last week.”

  “Laura?” Hunter asked, somewhat bemused by the statement. “How so?”

  Mrs. Talbert reburied her face in a glass of wine before speaking, giving Hunter the impression that she was more than a little bit tipsy. In fact, upon closer scrutiny, her red and sunken eyes suggested that she’d absorbed too much alcohol in a much too much short span of time.

  “Well, she’s very secretive about it.” Mrs. Talbert stepped closer and lowered her voice. “But I know she rode over to Hawthorne that day to find you. I can’t help but think she met up with this phantom when she went to find you.”

  The trace of a smile left Hunter’s lips and he grew suddenly very serious.

  “I beg your pardon? She rode to Hawthorne that day? That would have been Wednesday,” he prodded. “No one there mentioned it.”

  “Oh yes, I’m positive,” Mrs. Talbert responded. “She was hoping you would be there so she could warn you of the plot. Those evil Yankees were here bragging about it, don’t you know… thinking we were just weak woman who would do nothing to help save our brave countrymen. They do not know Virginians, do they?”

  Her voice got louder as she spoke, and she ended by taking a large gulp of wine, much of which was left to dribble down the corners of her mouth.

  In her current state, Hunter was not sure whether to take her seriously or not. “Tell me,” he said, putting one hand under his chin as he pondered the possibilities. “How do you suppose this phantom knew of my whereabouts? Obviously, Laura did not.”

  “Well…” Mrs. Talbert leaned closer and whispered as if the Colonel had just asked her opinion on the strategy for a most important raid. “Could it be that the phantom had to rely on, not where you were, but where you were not?”

  Hunter blinked at the logic. It was possible that Laura knew where the enemy was hidden, but did not know where his Command was. “That’s very interesting,” Hunter said as he scanned the crowd for the face of Mrs. Talbert’s daughter. “If you’ll excuse me.” He bowed to the matronly woman and turned to find Laura.

  It took him quite some time to locate the young lady, but he discovered her on the corner of the porch giggling in the lantern light with one of his men.

  “Ah, Miss Talbert, may I have a word.”

  Laura smiled warmly. “Of course, Colonel.” She stepped away from her guest toward a dark corner of the porch, and looked up at him questioningly.

  “Your mother…” Hunter tried to choose his words carefully. “Your mother seems
to think you know something of the phantom rider.”

  Despite the darkness, Hunter saw a flash of fear flicker across Laura’s eyes, and when she spoke, she sounded none too sincere. “Of course not, Colonel. No more than anyone else.”

  “That’s funny.” His tone suggested anything but amusement. “Because your mother tells me you paid a visit to Hawthorne. I believe it was on the same day as the mysterious stranger appeared.”

  Laura blinked a few times as if giving herself time to come up with a suitable response. It took only a glance into his eyes for her to accept the fact that she was trapped, so she did not deny the visit.

  “Yes, I did ride to Hawthorne. B-but I did not run into any phantom. My goodness, that’s silly.” She gave him a big, innocent smile and tried to walk past him. “May I get back to my hostess duties?”

  Hunter let her walk a few steps before speaking again. “If you were at Hawthorne that day then you lied about having not met my houseguest, Miss Evans, before tonight. Isn’t that right?” he countered.

  Hunter watched her stop, bite her top lip nervously, and then swallow hard. She remained silent for a few long moments, apparently trying to decide how much he knew. Ultimately, she came to the conclusion that her entanglement in the affair was too deep to try to deceive him.

  “I cannot tell—bound by a promise as I am.” She wrung her hands as she spoke and then turned and grabbed his arm in desperation. “Please, don’t make me break a pledge.”

  “You’re admitting that you met Miss Evans before tonight.” Hunter was not impressed in the least with the assertion of a vow.

  Laura placed both hands over her face like a child, as if by blocking his intimidating eyes from her sight, she could make him go away.

  Then, slowly…very slowly, she nodded her head.

  When she opened them again, Hunter was gone.

  Chapter 52

  I must say they acted like gentlemen. I would rather have forty thousand rebels quartered on my premises than one thousand union troops.

  – Pennsylvania farmer

  Andrea kept walking. She limped out the door, breathing in gasps at the exertion and the pain shooting through her leg.

  That room! This house! She had no idea what she’d been getting into. Yet Hunter had known—and all along. How dare he stand there so patronizingly, knowing she recognized the room and the memories it wrought. Blast him! And his men! And the whole dad-blamed war!

  By the time Andrea came back to her senses, she had passed the gate of the estate. She did not care. If she stopped walking, she feared she would explode. The throbbing of nerve endings in her leg felt excruciating, but she was too angry to acknowledge it.

  From out of nowhere, she heard the sound of a wagon coming up behind her, and then a voice. “May I take you somewhere, Miss Evans?”

  She glanced up at Major Carter and walked faster. “I do not care for a ride, thank you.”

  Carter urged the horses forward, then pulled them across the road in front of her. “I can be as stubborn as the next person,” he said. “Git in.”

  Andrea stopped, but only for a moment. In her rage, she struck the side of the wagon with her cane. “Move this blasted rig out of my way!”

  The officer sighed, got down from his seat, and grabbed the cane from her hand. Tossing it into the back, he held her arms by her side. “You can get in by yourself, young lady, or I can help you.” His tone let her know it was useless to argue.

  Flipping her nose in the air and struggling free from his grasp, Andrea clumsily climbed aboard. Carter took his seat, picked up the reins, and clucked to the horses.

  They had ridden quite a while in silence before Carter finally glanced over at her and spoke. “You’re not very talkative.”

  “I only speak when I have something to say.” Andrea turned her head away and stared out into the darkness.

  Carter popped the cigar back into his mouth and spoke with it clenched between his teeth. “Interestin’ trait for a woman.”

  The remark would normally have angered Andrea, but tonight her mind was a million miles away. She stared at the moon as she attempted to keep her thoughts from wandering back to what had just transpired.

  “If the Colonel seemed a little discourteous tonight, it can easily be accounted for.” Carter moved the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “His promotion brings new responsibilities…He has more to worry about than just a phantom rider.”

  The way he said the words made Andrea wonder just what he was trying to say, and how much he knew. The more she thought about it, the more agitated she became. “How ironic that I have only just come to learn that I live in the same household with a man who is worshipped in Virginia only slightly less than the Lord.”

  “Yup. He may not be the Almighty, but he’s a darn close relative.”

  “Oh, please,” Andrea spat. “I did not accept this ride to hear about the intrepid hero of Hawthorne. And please don’t talk about the honor and virtue of a man who enjoys the spoils of war almost as much as the blood that flows in its procurement.”

  “Whoa, boys.” Carter pulled the horses to a sudden stop and turned to her. “You are misinformed on that count, young lady. The Colonel does not, nor has he ever, shared in the partaking of the spoils of war. The men are permitted to take what they need, the rest is forwarded to the Confederate government. The Colonel has never taken so much as a spoonful of coffee without paying its full price.” He turned back to the horses and snapped the reins.

  Andrea blinked in the darkness. Hunter had never disputed the allegation when she had accused him of taking plunder. He allowed her to think the worst, probably with the assumption she would not believe him anyway.

  “Despite your hostility toward the Colonel, I think you’re probably a remarkable young lady.”

  Andrea laughed outright at the comment, but knew the sound carried no humor. “There are those who would take issue that I’m a lady at all.” She looked gloomily at the house as they pulled up to it, her wistful gaze apparently not escaping Carter.

  “I believe you’re probably mistaken on that point, too,” he said, helping her down from the seat.

  Andrea held onto his arm a moment and looked up into his face. Browned by sun and aged by weather, he possessed a countenance that obviously masked more than it expressed, yet was somehow profoundly handsome. “You are returning to the party?”

  “Nope. I owe you a debt of gratitude for giving me the opportunity to escape.” He laughed while turning to retrieve her cane from the back.

  “But Fannie will be so disappointed,” Andrea said without thinking. “I would be distressed to think that I am the cause.”

  Carter whirled around rather suddenly for his usual slow and deliberate demeanor. “Fannie Madison?” He lowered his voice then and tried to appear calm. “Now why would the most beautiful woman still at the party be disappointed if I don’t return?”

  Andrea saw in his eyes the same light she had seen in Fannie’s. “I just believe she would.”

  “She told you that?” His dark eyes probed hers in the moonlight.

  “I dare not divulge what was said in a private conversation, Major Carter,” she replied coyly, “but I believe you would not be disappointed if you were to return.”

  Carter was silent for a moment as he studied her. “I think perhaps I will take your advice, Miss Evans. After all, the night is still young.”

  After leaping into his seat, he gave her one last nod before whipping the horses out the lane at a speed, Andrea concluded, was neither safe nor necessary for a wagon not under heavy fire or in imminent danger of capture by enemy forces.

  Smiling, Andrea stood at the bottom of the porch as she watched the wagon disappear. But the smile turned into a frown when the sound of hoof beats did not fade away. The noise from the departing wagon overlapped with the sound of a single horse galloping over the bridge. It did not take Andrea long to recognize the rider. S
he started up the steps with more haste as he reined his horse to a stop.

  “Miss Evans,” Hunter said, dismounting.

  Andrea continued to the door, talking over her shoulder. “Is the celebration over already?

  “No, the party will no doubt continue until dawn.” Hunter tied his horse to the hitching post and glanced up at her. “The mysterious phantom rider has the whole territory singing his praises.”

  Andrea laughed, trying to appear indifferent, though the way he’d said the words sent a chill up her spine. Does he know something?

  “You sound jealous, Colonel, but you needn’t be. Myths and legends are often more intriguing to the populace than reality.” She intended to make a hasty retreat into the house, but before she could open the door he was directly behind her.

  “Not so.” He stood so close behind her that she could feel his words on the back of her neck. “I find reality much more intriguing.”

  Andrea turned and faced him, searching his eyes for what he knew. What she saw was his eyes, searching the same from hers.

  Deciding that he was merely testing the waters, she took a lighthearted approach. “But sir, reality has its limits—whereas the imagination is boundless.”

  “True. But I’ve come to the conclusion that the phantom cannot be a figment of everyone’s imagination.” He continued to probe her eyes for answers. “What do you think?”

  Andrea could not think of anything but the two unwavering eyes staring into hers. He seemed to be waiting for her to admit something that he surely had no proof was true. “I think that …” She found herself having to take a breath in mid-sentence. “I think that sometimes…even reality is not as it would seem, Colonel Hunter.”

  She let out her breath, hoping that vague statement would suffice. Why is he looking at me like that?

  “Reality with you, Miss Evans,” he countered, using her formal title as she had used his, and trapping her between his arms as he leaned them against the door, “is never as it seems.”

 

‹ Prev