Souls Aflame

by Patricia Hagan

  After she left, Julie paced up and down the room restlessly. From below, she could hear the sound of music, voices, and now and then muffled giggles and laughter as Opal’s girls led their clients to their rooms. It made her furious to think Derek would confine her to such a place. Just who did he think he was, anyway? She wasn’t his slave!

  If only she could get out, she thought with a fierceness that set her blood to boiling. He’d receive quite a shock if he returned and found her gone. She stamped her foot in disgust. All his words of devotion had merely been an act. He cared for her only because he enjoyed her body and thought her beautiful. He would never love her. Dammit, she had to get out of this place and free Myles so they could be on their way to a new life!

  The windows in her room were sealed. She was on the second floor, and even if she did manage to open one of them, she would break a leg if she jumped. So she would need Garnet’s help. Garnet was interested in money. She had let that be known. But Julie had nothing to pay her with, not even a piece of jewelry!

  It all seemed so futile, and she worried on top of everything else what her fate would be if Derek decided not to return. Would Opal force her to become one of her girls? Things like that happened—women being kept as prostitutes against their will. Was this to be her lot in life?

  The hours dragged by with painful slowness. Now and then Julie slept, only to be awakened by shrill laughter and music. Finally the house was quiet.

  Garnet came the next morning, wearing a bright red wrapper and carrying a tray of eggs and a cup of coffee. “I got up early just to come visit you,” she yawned, but her eyes were shining. “I guess I feel sorry for you.”

  “It was awful last night,” Julie admitted. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “It’s worse on the outside. Have you heard how bad some people are suffering?” And Garnet launched into a description of conditions in the South. Some women were making fans of palmetto, paper, and goose feathers. Starch was being made by soaking wheat bran, grated corn, or sweet potatoes in water until they fermented. Then the surface was skimmed, and the remainder of the solution run through sieves and cloths.

  As Julie picked at the eggs, Garnet rambled on, seemingly just as eager for company as Julie. “They make soap by mixing lye, drained from ashes, with leftover grease. ’Course, country folks been doing that all along, but the fine families are having to do it now too. And some folks are even making shoe polish by mixing soot with lard. And they use twigs to brush their teeth, chewing the twigs at the end to separate them a bit. Some even use hog bristles. Can you imagine?” Garnet wrinkled her nose. “And can you imagine using lard, scented with rose petals, for hair oil?”

  Julie pushed the tray away, her food only half-eaten. Garnet reached for it eagerly and began to eat, talking around the food in her mouth. “Some women fix their hair with combs carved from cow horns. Isn’t that disgusting? And they make hairpins from thorns.”

  Suddenly Julie interrupted her. “Garnet, how old are you?”

  “Fifteen,” she said easily, laughing at Julie’s reaction. “You’d never know it to look at me, would you? I’ve always been big for my age, especially in the places that count.” She winked.

  “But how did you—”

  “Wind up here?” Garnet shrugged. “I didn’t want to stay on the farm. Ma cried, and Pa didn’t care when I left, I was just one less mouth to feed.”

  Neither of them heard the door open, and did not realize Opal had entered the room till she spoke sharply. “Garnet! How many times have I told you to keep your personal life to yourself? Julie is our guest, and she doesn’t want to be bothered with your mindless chattering.”

  “It’s all right, really,” Julie said quickly. “I’m grateful for the company. I’m miserable shut up here all the time.”

  “Are you now?” Opal’s eyes began to shine. “That’s a pity, because there’s no telling when Derek will return. I’ve known him a long time, and he’s very unpredictable. I hate to say this, but he might not even come back.”

  Julie jumped, startled. “I felt that way but what makes you say that?”

  Opal shrugged. “Like I said, he’s unpredictable. Or maybe unreliable is a better description. I can’t tell you how many young girls he’s gone off and left, promising to return.” She smiled a bit shamefacedly. “I must admit I’m one of them.”

  “Y—you?” Julie sputtered. “I—I don’t believe it.”

  “Oh, it’s true. Derek and I had quite a romance going once, but he went away for so long I knew he wouldn’t be coming back—at least, not for anything permanent. I settled for seeing him whenever he was in town, but I learned a dear lesson. I don’t give my heart—just my love.” She looked at Garnet and the two shared a laugh while Julie looked on, hurt as the realization of what Opal said washed over her.

  “Look, dear, we got off to a bad start.” Opal sat down beside her on the bed and put a friendly arm around her shoulders. “Garnet can tell you I’m really not a bad sort. Now I feel sorry for you. I know what you’re going through. But it isn’t the end of the world.”

  Julie looked at her hopefully. “You’ll let me leave?”

  “Oh, I can’t do that.” Opal shook her head quickly. “If Derek does come back, he’d have my head. No, I can’t let you leave, but I can give you more freedom. Suppose I send Garnet in a little later with a pretty dress for you? You can go downstairs and serve wine and brandy to our clients as they arrive. You can help me be hostess.”

  Julie stood up, lips set angrily. “I’m not going to work for you, Opal.”

  The older woman laughed once more. “Come now, dear. Do you think I would put you to work? Why, you’re too inexperienced. My clients demand the best. But you are lovely, and I thought you might like to mingle and get out of your room. But it’s up to you. If you would rather stay here, then so be it.”

  Julie looked at her suspiciously, then decided no one could make her go to bed with any of the men; and if she was forced, somehow, Derek would find out…if he came back, she thought painfully, bitterly. “All right,” she said finally. “I will do it. Anything is better than being cooped up in this room.”

  Later in the day Garnet appeared with a bright satin dress of sunshine yellow. “It’ll look nice with that black hair of yours,” she bubbled. “I’ve got some yellow velvet rosettes in case you want to tie back your ringlets.”

  An hour later Julie was moving through the parlor, holding a tray from which she served crystal glasses filled with brandy. The men eyed her appreciatively, some with lust, but Opal hovered nearby to make sure they knew Julie was merely a hostess and not one of her girls.

  The parlor began to empty as everyone disappeared upstairs. A few still lingered about, sipping their drinks. Suddenly there was a loud commotion at the door, and Opal rushed to answer the thundering knocks. With a blast of icy wind and gusts of powdery snow, three men burst loudly into the room. Obviously merry from too much to drink, two of them hugged and kissed Opal, and she seemed equally happy to greet them. It was clear to Julie that they knew each other.

  Except for the third man. They all wore the uniforms of officers of some rank, and the one who hung back was tall, attractive, almost regal. But there was something about his eyes, gray and piercing, that made him seem ominous in a way Julie could not define.

  “I haven’t seen you boys in months,” Opal was saying, her voice at once tinkling and fawning. “I thought maybe you’d found another place you liked better.”

  “Not us, you big hunk of sugar cane,” came a cheerful response from one of the two who hugged her. “We’d never run off and leave you.”

  “We’ve been out fighting the goddamn war,” the other one said. “Thank God, it’s gotten so damned cold both sides seem to be holing in for the winter—save for a few diehards skirmishing now and then.”

  “Who’s your friend?” Opal nodded to the other man. “I don’t believe I’ve met him before. Handsome too.” Her eyes flicked over him with int
erest.

  He bowed slightly. “Major Gordon Fox, at your service. Let me say I’ve heard all about you and your establishment, Miss Opal, and I must say you have a fine house. The women are rare jewels of beauty—” his eyes went to Julie, and she glanced away self-consciously.

  Opal noticed his glance and hastened to explain, “She isn’t one of my girls, Major. I’m sorry. And I’ve only got one lovely young thing left besides me. Some of the others should be down before long. We seldom entertain for the entire night, you know.”

  When Julie realized she was about to be left alone with Major Fox, she decided to busy herself by refilling the decanters of brandy from the big bottle in the next room. One of the other girls would be down soon she hoped, and then he would be taken care of.

  She wondered why he frightened her. There was something about the way he looked at her, that first moment—his steely gaze. She was behaving childishly, and she silently admonished herself. But that did not assuage the ominous feeling that was tingling up and down her spine.

  “You’re spilling some of that, lovely lady.”

  Julie turned so quickly that she dropped the crystal glass she was holding. It hit the thick rug, but the stem broke. She started to bend to pick it up, but he was already across the room retrieving the pieces for her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He smiled warmly. “I was lonely out there and thought perhaps you and I could keep each other company.”

  “I—I don’t really mingle with the guests,” she stammered, trembling involuntarily.

  He noticed, tilting his head to one side and raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “You’re afraid of me. Why? Have I done something to offend you? I don’t see how I could have—”

  “No, no, it isn’t that.” She hated the way her voice was so squeaky and nervous. “I don’t like being here, you see, and I’m not used to all this, and—”

  “I see.” He reached over to take her hand and drew her into the parlor, before the fireplace. She followed, knowing she could do nothing else except make a scene, and that would be ridiculous. After all, he hadn’t really done anything that should make her react in such a fashion.

  “Your hands are cold. You stay here by the fire and warm yourself. That’s quite a snowstorm we’re having out there. I suppose that’s why my friends filled themselves with spirits, thinking they could warm their insides against the weather.” He laughed, and it was a nice sound. “They’ll regret it in the morning. I learned my lesson about over-imbibing as a youth. I know my limitations. Every man should, you know.”

  “I—I suppose,” she murmured, feeling foolish but not knowing what other comment to make.

  He sat down at the hearth, and his scabbard scraped uncomfortably on the ground. He rose and began to unfasten it from his side. “Would it seem terribly improper for you to at least tell me your name?” he asked.

  “I suppose not,” she answered, then told him as she admired his uniform. The coat was gray, with gold cord curling from the elbows to blend into a wide cuff. The stand-up collar bore one star on each side, denoting his rank of major. His belt was black, edged in gold to match the double row of brass buttons down the front of his coat, each engraved with the initials of the Confederate States of America: CSA. The trousers were blue, the shade of the berries that grew in the woods near Rose Hill, and there was a gold stripe down the outside of each leg.

  “You’re staring at my uniform,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” She shook her head, flustered, and wished she had just stayed in her room. Then she quickly said, “May I get you a glass of wine? I’m not a very good hostess, I’m afraid.”

  He accepted, and when she returned, she took her place beside him, folding her arms about her knees to listen as he told her a bit about the war. She lost track of time, urging him to continue talking, asking questions now and then. Suddenly the sound of laughter from above made them turn their gaze toward the stairway. Opal was coming down with one of the two men who had come in with the major. Julie heard her call him by his name, Jarrett.

  They reached the bottom step, and Opal looked at Major Fox and Julie with a secretive smile on her lips. “I hope you two got along well?”

  “Yes, quite.” Major Fox got to his feet. “I find Julie’s company quite charming.”

  “Well, if you care to wait awhile longer for one of the other girls—”

  “No, we’d best be getting back.”

  Opal turned to Jarrett. “And how long before I’ll see you again?”

  “Hard to say,” he replied. “We never know when we can get leave. They’re bringing in more and more of those Yankee bastards every day, and the guards are griping about where to put them. We’re stacking them on top of each other.”

  “That place is terrible, I hear,” Opal clucked sympathetically.

  “Well, prisons usually are,” he agreed.

  Julie’s eyes widened as she gasped, “Are you speaking of Libby Prison? You’re there…with the prisoners?” The words erupted from the depths of her anguished heart.

  Jarrett laughed, but Gordon Fox was watching her in silent rumination.

  “We’re in no danger,” Jarrett said, pulling on his woolen greatcoat. “Those Yankees know our men would just as soon shoot them as look at them—and often do.”

  Julie made a whimpering sound as she turned away. Gordon moved quickly to grasp her elbow. “Has something distressed you, my dear? You seem upset.”

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I just have a headache, that’s all. Excuse me.”

  “Of course,” he nodded as she hurried up the stairs. “I will see you again.”

  But she did not respond as she ran as fast as she dared, blinking back tears. It all seemed so hopeless, so futile. Myles was so near…yet so far.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Opal Bordine frowned as Major Fox swung his booted feet up to prop them on the cherrywood desk. He took out a cheroot and wet it with his tongue before lighting it, ignoring the way she wrinkled her nose in distaste. He lit it, inhaled, and watched the bluish-gray smoke swirl upward.

  “Major Fox,” Opal exploded, “you are trying my patience. It’s enough that you have come here almost every night for two weeks, drinking my brandy and taking up the time of my hostess, all without remuneration to me, but now you have the nerve to demand my time as well. Get to the point of your visit, please.”

  “If you wish to be paid for your brandy, I will be happy to oblige,” he remarked coldly. “As for remuneration for time spent, Miss Marshal has not offered her, uh, services to me…” he paused to smile, then added, “…nor have I requested them.”

  “Get to the point,” she repeated.

  He regarded her coolly, then said, “What I’m about to tell you is quite confidential, and should you reveal anything I say, you will be dealt with severely.”

  She gasped. “Are you threatening me?”

  He shrugged. “Take it as you wish.” He drew on the cheroot, then removed it from his lips and turned it around in his fingertips, staring at the red, glowing tip. Finally, when he was confident that Opal was sufficiently intimidated, he continued. “I am a member of the Intelligence Department of the Confederate Army. Part of my job is to ferret out what I consider suspicious situations that might be a detriment to the security of the Confederacy.”

  She was unnerved, and he knew it, as she asked in a shrill voice, “Well, what has that got to do with me and my establishment?”

  “I consider the fact that a beautiful young woman is being boarded here, by a man you will not name, to be highly suspicious. Miss Marshal is obviously a woman of intelligence and good breeding, so why would any man want her kept here? For what reason?”

  He lowered his feet so quickly that they hit the floor with a loud thud and Opal jumped, startled. Leaning forward, his eyes stormy, he pointed the cheroot at her as he ground out the words: “I intend to have the whole story—now!”

  “I—I don’t know
why he left her here,” Opal stammered. “I mean, he didn’t give a reason, just said to make sure she didn’t run away. He said he’d pay me well when he returned. I thought he’d be back before now. So did she. That’s all I know.”

  “You know his name,” he snapped. “You must also have your own opinion as to why he left her.”

  She began to shuffle papers on her desk nervously.

  “You’re wasting my time. You would save both of us a great deal of inconvenience if you would cooperate.” He leaned back in his chair. “Would you care to go to my headquarters and be questioned there?”

  “No, no!” She slapped her palms down on the desk. “All right. I’ll tell you everything I know about him. His name is Derek Arnhardt, and he’s a blockade runner. He went to Wilmington to get money. I overheard him telling Julie something about that. As for why he’s afraid she’ll run away, I only know what she confided to one of my girls, that her brother is in Libby Prison, and Derek has gone to get money to hire men to get her brother out. He’s afraid she’ll try it without him, because she’s so desperate.

  “Please,” she begged, “don’t let anyone know what I’ve told you. Derek can be quite mean, and he would be very angry if he knew I had told you all this.”

  Major Fox smiled slowly. “You can be assured that our conversation will be kept confidential.”

  He rose, nodded a curt goodbye, and left.

  He returned that evening. He watched Julie’s every move, as usual. He found in her an ethereal charm, a beauty to behold with her shining black hair and shamrock eyes framed by thick lashes. She was what he wanted, all right, and while he felt she was quite vulnerable, he also had the feeling that she could be quite beguiling when properly motivated.

  Julie Marshal would serve his purpose well.

  Finally the room was empty except for the two of them. Julie, perplexed as to why he continued to visit nightly without engaging one of Opal’s girls for a few hours of sensual pleasure and frolic, faked a yawn and murmured, “I am quite tired tonight, Major. Would you excuse me if I retired for the evening?”