Chapter 2
The best soldiers are not always warlike.
—Chinese proverb
Major Benton paced the foyer of Confederate president Jefferson Davis’s home, silently rehearsing his proposal. He had no idea why he had been summoned to Richmond, but he intended to use the opportunity to introduce a matter that had been a source of vexation since the day he’d been given his own command.
Agitated as he was, Benton tried to calm his restless nerves. It would do little good to start a heated discussion with the president. He intended to lay out the facts and convince the president of the necessity of knowing the identities of the spies and scouts that operated in his territory. The fact that he had not been entrusted with that information already was an insult, though he consoled himself with the thought that it was a simple oversight.
Pausing for a moment, Benton strained his ears at the sound of voices floating down the staircase from the second floor office. Although Spencer, the president’s butler, had informed him that Davis was concluding a meeting with General Lee, one of the voices from above sounded decidedly feminine. Spencer had since disappeared, so it was impossible to question him about the source.
Impossible. To think that a woman would be granted an interview with the president in that all-important war room upstairs was ridiculous. To suppose that General Lee could spare time from his schedule to be in attendance was simply absurd.
It was only moments more before Benton heard voices moving closer, followed by the distinct sound of rustling silk descending the stairs. He stood erect with anticipation, waiting now for the source of the feminine attire to become visible to him. As the figure descended the final step, he saw her turn to continue a conversation with President Davis. Dressed all in black, complete with a mourning veil pulled back from her face, she smiled over her shoulder as if she and the president had just shared a private joke. General Lee stood at the bottom of the stairs, and took her hand to assist her into the foyer. Turning to acknowledge Lee’s courtesy, the woman caught sight of Benton. The smile disappeared utterly.
“Major Benton! What a pleasant surprise,” General Lee said, following her gaze.
Benton did not hear the general. His eyes were intent on the woman. “You!”
President Davis entered the room and looked gravely from one to the other. “Yes, I understand you’ve met.”
“The only thing I’ve met,” Benton said loudly, “is the business end of a shotgun.”
With great effort he released his gaze from the young woman’s impassive, upturned face and turned his attention to President Davis. “Do you know, sir, who this woman is?”
“Why, yes, I was just getting around to that. Allow me to formally introduce you. Major Benton, I have the honor to present Sarah… Irene… Duvall.”
Benton noticed the obvious and elaborate pause in Davis’s voice between each word of her name and repeated them to himself. Little by little, his befuddled mind began to comprehend the meaning in the woman’s initials. His eyes shot to President Davis, and then to General Lee, who stood quietly beside the woman. Then his face reddened, as annoyance blinded his eye to all things save his anger. “Why was I not told of this sooner? This is an outrage!”
“I know. I apologize. It was an oversight. Sid is here on precisely the same subject.”
“An oversight?” Benton’s eyes targeted the woman whom he now knew had been providing intelligence to him through messages left in a hollow oak tree for the past two months. “She had ample opportunity to inform me!”
Sarah Duvall, meanwhile, stood arrow straight, staring into space as if she realized the encounter was unavoidable but was not one she had been looking forward to. Her expression seemed to convey that she was neither surprised or the least bit concerned about the unexpected encounter with the man whose life she had threatened to end.
General Lee stepped forward. “Those were not her orders, Major. She was told to allow no one to know her true allegiance without written authorization.”
Benton sighed angrily. “Well then I can assure you she followed her orders precisely!” He threw his hands up in disgust and then addressed General Lee. “You expect me to entrust myself and my men to her?”
Lee responded quickly to the intended insult. “Has she not done a commendable job thus far?”
“That is not my point!”
“What exactly is your point, Major?”
“She is a woman!”
“How very observant of you.” Lee smiled broadly while the one about whom they spoke remained silent, raising only a remote, unperturbed eye toward Benton for a moment before gazing over his shoulder again. She seemed completely composed, though she continued to stare at the door as if anxious for the moment she could walk through it.
Benton turned toward General Lee in an obvious effort to ignore her very presence. “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but how can she be expected to understand military tactics and keep secrets?”
Lee blinked, apparently not quite seeing his point. “I can assure you she’s done a commendable job of secrecy thus far. And at great detriment to her own good name, I might add.”
“But this is not woman’s work. You cannot expect me to accept communications from a female. The sex is without stability!”
General Lee glanced heavenward for a moment. “Would you accept them from an officer?” His tone revealed his agitation.
“Of course I would.” Benton’s brow furrowed, insulted by the question.
President Davis nodded toward Lee, who pulled a pad from his coat pocket and began to write. He handed the finished product to the president, who signed it as well.
“I guess it is official,” Davis said, handing it to Sarah.
She glanced at the missive and then began shaking her head. “Sir, I have no desire for such an endorsement.”
She handed it back to Lee, who smiled and handed it to Benton. “Despite Sarah’s misgivings, she is your newest recruit. See that she is treated with the respect and honor she deserves as an officer in your command.”
Benton looked down at the paper and scanned it quickly.
In light of her conduct and attention to her country’s interests, Sarah Irene Duvall is hereby promoted to a lieutenancy in the command of Major Douglas A. Benton, a position she shall hold as long as the Confederate states are in need of her services.
“This is preposterous!”
“It is done. I suggest you shake hands and make up.” President Davis’s tone was grave and serious.
Benton sighed heavily, as he gazed incredulously at the two men in the room. Without bothering to hide a look of complete indignation, he reluctantly offered his hand to the woman standing between them. When Sarah Duvall hesitantly accepted, Benton took note of her small and delicate fingers, the type that indicate the prospect of a gentle, tender touch. Yet he knew the woman’s distant, noncommittal attitude provided a more genuine indication of the catlike hostility that represented her true character.
“There are now only four people who know Sarah’s true allegiance, and they are standing in this room,” Lee said soberly. “I need not tell you the necessity of keeping it that way.”
Benton’s eyes went to Sarah’s as he thought back upon the unexpected meeting with her brother. It appeared she was thinking the same thing, for the blue in them turned a mournful gray, the color of a desolate cemetery stone. Otherwise, her dark, secretive face was set with, what he was beginning to learn, was her normal state of detached calm. She was indeed as unyielding and emotionless as a piece of granite.
Disregarding the look, Benton released her hand and turned again to President Davis. “She is paid handsomely, I presume.” His tone and his expression indicated he thought the money could be better used in other pursuits, but he soon found out that gold was not on par with her patriotism.
Sarah Duvall drew back at his words and spoke to him for the first time. “I render a service, sir. I do not sell it! Her cheeks flamed now. “And I am so
rry that you are so little acquainted with my character as to suppose my honor is for sale at any price.”
“Not all soldiers carry arms.” General Lee interrupted in a low, stern voice, indicating he thought Benton had gone far enough. “Information found and received is worth one thousand slain.”
Benton sighed heavily as he looked at the faces in the room. It appeared nothing could be gained by continuing to argue with this foe—any more than could be gained by arguing with any woman for that matter. “Despite my better judgment, it appears I will have to accept the circumstances thrust upon me.” He shifted his scowling gaze to the woman standing before him. “But I will accept this charade only so long as the information remains reliable.”
President Davis and General Lee exhaled simultaneously at the comment, while Sarah’s cheeks glowed again. “Thank you, Major.” Her clenched teeth and trembling voice revealed for the first time how hard she was trying to keep her composure in front of a man she knew would never think of her as anything more than an object with which to flirt. “And now that we have been officially introduced, I hope we can continue to keep our distance.”
Turning to the president and General Lee, she nodded. “I’m afraid I have a train to catch. Good evening, gentlemen.” She lowered her veil to cover her face and then turned to acknowledge Benton. “And Major Benton.”
Benton did not know if she was paying him a complement by singling him out for special attention or insulting him by not including him with the gentlemen—and so he followed her to the door to find out. “If I am to be your commanding officer, I must insist on some degree of respect.” He looked at her hard, making it clear she was not part of his unit with his consent, let alone his approval.
“And shall you give that which you request to receive?” When he did not answer, she moved a step closer and talked in a low voice. “Let us understand each other, Major. I am not here to express insincere salutations of politeness or false professions of friendship. I am here to perform a duty, however unpleasant that duty may be.”
Again, Benton could not tell from her expressionless face if the duty itself or the person with whom she was conversing caused the unpleasantness. “It appears we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.” Benton studied her face as he talked and made an effort to sound conciliatory, though he knew his countenance probably did not hide the fact that he thought the whole affair entirely her fault.
Sarah spoke while casually adjusting her veil. “I find that first impressions are seldom erroneous. Good day, sir.”
As Spencer appeared and opened the door, Benton grabbed her arm. He was not one to let a mere woman have the last word or appear to get the upper hand. He grinned flirtatiously, knowing well the effect of his smile on the opposite sex. “May I have the honor of saying before you depart that I have no doubt you will perform your duties admirably. In fact, your superb acting skills almost lead me to believe that you dislike me intensely.” He laughed softly at the idea of a woman disliking him.
Sarah flashed a smile as well, and looked him directly in the eye. “You exaggerate my abilities, Major, and would therefore perhaps be surprised to know how very little acting is involved. Good day.”
* * *
“It appears she is immune to your charms, Major Benton.” General Lee patted him on the shoulder when Benton returned.
“My charms have no effect on stone.” Benton, surprised and confused by the actions of one Sarah Duvall, turned and stared sullenly out the window. It annoyed him that despite his best efforts to enchant her, she had remained either unconscious of the endeavor—or indifferent.
“I believe you judge her wrongly,” Lee continued. “You know as well as anyone that traveling through that section of Virginia is more dangerous than ever now. She lives friendless in an enemy land at the peril of her own life. You must do what you can to protect her without divulging her true allegiance.”
“An unpleasant proposition for both of us,” Benton muttered.
“My heavens, man.” President Davis wagged his finger at him. “You can’t deny how much her information has benefited your reputation. Scarcely is a campaign designed or a strategy conceived within the Federal ranks when it not borne to you. You are probably better informed than Lincoln himself on the enemy’s plans for movement in that region.”
“I don’t see why you continue to resist,” Lee said, continuing the conversation. “It is not hard to trace the source of the majority of your victories back to the intelligence she provided you.”
“I resist for the obvious reason,” Benton interrupted. “She is a woman.”
Davis gave Benton an inscrutable stare. “You may as well accept the circumstances as they are, Major. You were given an independent command, the envy of every Confederate officer on the field, as a means to provide protection in that region.”
Benton whirled around. “I was given my own command because of her?
“You have your orders, Major Benton.” Lee brought the conversation to an end. “You are to continue harassing the enemy as you have been doing, but every attempt must be made to afford Mrs. Duvall protection. She can be a great asset to you.”
“Mrs. Duvall?”
“You may have judged from her dress that Mrs. Duvall is a widow,” Lee answered abruptly. “The circumstances of her matrimonial state will no doubt be revealed to you in time. For now, you have a command to which you need to return. I assume your visit has been settled to your approval.”
“Yes, of course,” Benton said, though his tone reflected no such endorsement. Replacing the hat on his head, he bowed to both men and disappeared out the door.
* * *
General Lee signed heavily as he paced. “I hope we’ve made the right decision.”
President Davis stared out the window at the light rain that had begun to fall, and considered the statement. He knew what Lee meant. Benton was not like most officers—or most men, for that matter. Young for an officer of his rank, he was a great favorite among the ladies—especially, but not limited to, those who were seeking a husband. With his splendid height and rugged good looks, he was recognized wherever he went, and his gift of charm made him welcome.
Yet the man had another side that was equally as remarkable. Within mere months of starting his military career, he had been acknowledged as a true leader by General J. E. B. Stuart and had been given his own command. The fact that he was just twenty-nine years of age enhanced the value of the compliment and had won him unbounded admiration.
Seizing on the opportunity, Benton had taken a group of common citizens and soldiers, and turned them into one of the most feared cavalry units in the Confederacy. No one planned their battles more judiciously, and no individual could bear upon the enemy the terror now wrought by Benton’s name. When he chose the ground for a fight, one could be sure his men could hold it as long as they cared to and could withdraw safely whenever they liked. He had collected a trail of successful exploits that more than proved his courage and alacrity on the field, so that within less than a year, he had come to be pursued by two groups of men: those who wanted to serve under him—and those who wanted to kill him.
But could he be reined in enough to use the valuable services of Sarah Duvall? In her own quiet way, Sarah was as stubborn and unyielding as he—a fact made obvious by their brief meeting today. Davis could recall nothing to indicate concession or compromise in either’s tone or manner.
General Lee smiled and patted Davis on the back as if reading his mind. “Don’t worry. He has yet to discover the strength and spirit she possesses.”
“Yes, I know,” Davis replied thoughtfully. “And it may prove interesting to watch him bow to someone other than himself.”
Chapter 3
Joan of Arc with fierce intent,
Has oft o’er southern saddle bent,
To guide the hero o’er the plain,
And help to victory with her rein.
—“Dedication,” a poem by General J. E. B. Stuart, 1864
November 1862
Dusty from hard riding and weary with fatigue, Benton loosened the collar of his shirt and unbuttoned his coat the moment he entered his chamber. Although he’d been back at his post for almost four months now, the news that he’d been given an independent command primarily for the purpose of protecting a woman continued to consume his thoughts and annoy him.
He cringed at the thought of his men discovering this fact, and though he was familiar enough with the integrity of the president and General Lee to know they would not divulge the truth, the same could not be said of Sarah Duvall.
He removed his coat with a violent shrug and carelessly threw the garment across a chair. As grateful as he was for the appointment to his own command, the new responsibility was now as much a burden as an honor.
“’Scuse, me. Sir?
Benton turned at the sound of his aide’s voice. “Yes, Hancock, what is it? Make it quick. I know it’s early, but don’t let anyone disturb me until sunup.”
“Well, sir, there’s someone here to see you—”
“Tell him I’ll see him first thing in the morning.”
“Sir, he says it’s imperative that he speaks to you…uh, now.”
Benton took a step forward, and the aide took a step back. “All right, send him in! I’ll get rid of him myself.” He turned his back to the door and proceeded to unclasp his shirt. Just as he was getting ready to kick off his boots, he heard the door open and close.
“Perhaps you could wait to do that until our interview is complete,” someone with a hushed, familiar voice said from behind him.
Above and Beyond Page 2
