Atlanta

by Sara Orwig

  “So if I whirl you out onto the balcony, you won’t let me kiss you,” he said lightly, and she saw the sparkle back in his eyes, knowing he was once again teasing her.

  “No, I won’t! And you won’t do that to your best friend either. Or to the child who already calls you Uncle Alaric.”

  “Ah, Claire, you do spoil things. I shall have to find someone to kiss tonight who is willing, single, and more impressed with me.”

  “Indeed, you will!” she exclaimed with a smile. “I imagine there is a roomful of women here who are longing for you to do just that.”

  He grinned as they waltzed. “You’ve been practicing your dancing.”

  “Yes, I’ve been practicing with Michael.”

  He sighed again. “See there. If I were your husband—”

  “But you’re not.”

  “And I see he’s given you something very lovely. The necklace looks beautiful on you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Well, even if you won’t let me whirl you onto the balcony, you can let me make you laugh and hold you a little closer, and give our man of stone something to think about.” Alaric twirled her about and she had to laugh.

  “That’s better. And I shall tell you about the time during the war that Fortune and I stole corsets from a family fleeing Atlanta.”

  “Corsets?” she asked, amused.

  “Yes. I thought it was a box of ears of corn. You see, we had ridden for a whole day without anything to eat, and we saw a entourage of three wagons and two buggies. We robbed them, taking a jug of water, a bottle of brandy, and a large crate they had with the other food. I thought I saw corn husks sticking out of the crate, so we rode off with it. But when we stopped to eat and drink and I pried open the crate, there were three moldy ears of com and a dozen ladies’ corsets!” He glanced toward Fortune. “I’m amazed you haven’t heard about it. For a solid month he called me Captain Corset.”

  She laughed brightly as the music came to an end. Even before they had dropped their arms, Fortune appeared behind Alaric.

  “And now, friend, I’m taking my wife from you before you try to dance her out onto the balcony.”

  “It would serve you right. In fact, I already tried and she wouldn’t allow it. But I won’t stop trying.”

  Their voices were bantering, but she could see the hard edge in Fortune’s expression. Did he care because of any scandal hurting Michael? Or did he care for her?

  Fortune turned to take her into his arms as the music commenced a Viennese waltz. “I’ll have to watch him. He won’t stop trying to take you from me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s being polite and attentive and we’re friends. And even if he really did mean what he says, which he doesn’t, you know I wouldn’t do a thing to wreck what you’ve given me or to lose Michael.”

  Fortune looked down at her. “I know that, but I also know Alaric and he’s half in love with you. He doesn’t understand grief because he’s never experienced it.” Fortune’s gaze lowered to the necklace and then lower, where the lace edge of her dress covered her full curves.

  “You’re very beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Fortune. The necklace is magnificent.”

  “I was talking about you, Claire, not the damned necklace,” he said.

  “I know that.”

  “Alaric can make you laugh.”

  “He told me about the crate of stolen corsets.”

  Then Fortune truly did relax. Laughing outright, he said, “Alaric can get into more impossible situations. He thought he had a crate of corn. My mouth was watering and the women in that family were shrieking and crying when we rode away with that damned crate. We had all their corsets. And there was the time he found us a cave. I’d been shot in the leg—”

  “I didn’t know that!”

  “It was slight, only a scratch, but I had my leg wrapped and I was exhausted and it was raining. He found a cave and I crawled inside—to a nest of snakes. Alaric finds disaster the way a dog sniffs out a coon.”

  She smiled at Fortune and he smiled back at her. “That’s the way I like you, Claire. When you’re smiling. Or in moments of passion.” He pulled her closer to him, bending so his warm breath was on her ear. “And when we get home, I shall take those white flowers out of your hair, one by one.”

  She felt tingles from his breath on her. Looking up, she saw that desire had darkened his eyes. She became lost in his gaze as they swept down the length of the room.

  “I wish,” he said, his voice deeper than usual, “that I could take you home right now. But we need to meet people here and to be seen.”

  “Did you meet the man who works at Wenger Ironworks?”

  “Yes, I did. He knows I’m just starting out, and he paid little attention to me. I don’t think he expects any real competition.”

  “Then he’s a foolish man,” she said, looking at the crowd, knowing Atlanta would always be a special city to her because she would associate it with Fortune and her marriage. “This is a marvelous city. I’ve been in so many, but this is different.”

  “When Cal and Sophia get here, I want to have our first party. Before that, though, I have to get my mill running.”

  “And I’m sure you have shamelessly talked about your Confederate major relative.”

  He grinned. “Of course, I have. But it depends upon the company I’m in. There are Union soldiers here as well. Atlanta is a thriving industrial city.”

  “It won’t matter to the women whether you were a Yankee or a Reb.”

  He grinned. “Southern women don’t forget. It will matter, but time will help.”

  “I don’t mind that you were a Yankee.”

  “That’s because you ran away from the South, and you weren’t here during the war. And thank heavens you did. If I had thought Michael was in a southern town, suffering from that damned war …” His voice trailed away, and he looked down at her. “You’re dancing well, Claire.”

  “I’ve been practicing.”

  “Damnation, Alaric—”

  She laughed. “No! Michael and I have been dancing.”

  “You and Michael?” Fortune asked, his brows arching. “You should have told me. I would have practiced with you.”

  “You’re so busy and you’ve been giving a lot of your time to me this past week when I know you need to work.”

  “Not many women would view it that way.”

  “You don’t know many women who have had to support a child on their own.”

  “No, but I could have taken the time to practice with you.” He tilted his head and smiled, and she felt a flutter, wishing he weren’t solemn so much of the time. “Then Michael will be a marvel on the dance floor by the time he’d old enough to attend parties.”

  “He’ll probably forget. He was a mighty reluctant partner.”

  Fortune laughed, giving her waist a squeeze. “You probably haven’t noticed, but I’m getting looks of envy from just about every man in this room.”

  “That’s absurd, Fortune, but it’s nice of you to say so.”

  He merely shook his head. Pulling her slightly closer, they continued to dance, their steps matching as if they had danced together for years. Her hand rested lightly on his broad shoulder, and she nudged it higher until her fingertips touched the nape of his neck. His eyes narrowed, and she wondered if he felt the same stir of desire that she did. She felt light and giddy, as if she were skipping on air instead of over a ballroom floor.

  Later in the evening, while Fortune was engrossed in conversation with two men who owned textile mills, Alaric appeared at her side.

  “May I have this dance?” he asked, tugging on her arm. She glanced up at Fortune, who was talking about his mill, and she nodded to Alaric. They moved to the dance floor, and he turned her into his arms. “At last I can dance with you again!”

  “Alaric, you have to stop flirting!”

  “Your husband is buried in iron and too busy to notice what I do, so let me have my fun, Clai
re. Besides, someday—”

  “No!” she exclaimed lightly, smiling at him. “No somedays. Now stop flirting or we stop dancing.”

  “That’s absolutely impossible for me!” he answered with a grin, and she had to laugh. “When my feet move and I hold a beautiful woman in my arms, I flirt. It’s like stretching when you wake up in the morning—natural and necessary.”

  She laughed and glanced around. “I know you know all the gossip. I’ve met so many people, and I can’t remember anybody’s names. Even their faces are a blur.”

  “Very well. To your right is Egidius Fechter, one of the owners of the City Brewery. That’s certainly a fellow to remember. Next to him is Letitia Barnard, who knows everyone in town. Then you have your carpetbaggers, like Rufus Bullock, a Radical Republican. He’s thick with General John Pope, who runs this military district—you do realize Georgia is under military rule.” She nodded, and he went on, “Bullock has a friend, Hannibal Kimball, who’s just constructed the opera house that the military wants to requisition for the state capital.…”

  When the music ended, a man approached them. “Alaric, I haven’t been introduced to my competitor’s wife,” he said in a deep voice.

  “We can remedy that. Claire, this is Clarence Hoagland. Clarence, this is Mrs. Fortune O’Brien.”

  “I’m happy to meet you,” he said as she looked up at a tall brown-haired man with dark brown eyes. “May I have a dance?” he asked, glancing at Alaric.

  “Yes, you may,” she answered. “Thank you, Alaric.”

  He smiled. “I claim the next dance, though.”

  As Clarence Hoagland took her hand, she felt a faint touch of repulsion, wondering at her reaction because he seemed polite and he was an attractive man. She realized her years of avoiding men had made her wary of any that she didn’t feel comfortable around.

  The music began and she gazed at the crowd, at a loss for conversation.

  “Your husband is going into competition with his former father-in-law.”

  “I’m surprised that people know of the relationship.”

  “They know. Trevor Wenger wants his grandchild, and he’s not happy with the man who is keeping them separated. I hope your husband is ready for a battle in business because he’s going to get one.” Hoagland smiled at her. “This concerns you little, though, and I didn’t ask you to dance to discuss iron. I’ve worked for Trevor for a long time now, and he talks to me. I know what the situation is between you and your husband.”

  Surprised, she tilted her head to study him, wondering how much gossip was going around town about Fortune and her. “What situation?”

  He smiled. “Anyone who knows Trevor Wenger very well knows that his daughter met a Yankee when Marilee was visiting Trevor’s sister in Baltimore. And they know that Marilee married the Yankee against her father’s wishes. It’s common knowledge that a young woman took his grandchild when Marilee died and that he’s been searching for the grandchild for all these years. He was shocked to learn that Colonel O’Brien married you. I’m shocked that you married him.”

  “Why would that shock you?” she asked, disliking Clarence Hoagland more by the minute. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Because he obviously doesn’t love you, although he’s putting up a good front tonight. He did it to keep you as a mother to his son, to get a stronger hold on Michael so Trevor can’t take him. But you’re a beautiful woman,” he said, his voice lowering as his arm tightened around her. “You could have waited for a man who loved you.”

  She bit back an angry retort, forcing a smile as she gazed up at him. “Sir, you might be badly mistaken about what my husband and I feel for each other.”

  His brows drew together in a slight frown as he studied her. He shrugged. “Maybe I misjudged, but he doesn’t act like a man in the first months of being married.”

  “And you think I don’t act like a woman in the first months of being married?” she countered, smiling at him.

  He laughed. “Perhaps I’m wrong. Of course, the man is incredibly well fixed with Trevor’s sister’s money, so I can see why you would be attracted to him.”

  She laughed, hoping her annoyance with him didn’t show. Wishing the waltz were over, she happened to see Alaric standing on the sidelines watching her. He winked at her and she smiled at him.

  “That’s the man who acts as if he’s in love with you.”

  “I think if you watch Alaric more closely, you’ll find he’s that way with every female in the room.”

  “Only the beautiful ones, I’m sure. And I don’t care about him because I have a beautiful woman in my arms.”

  She was thankful when the music ended. Alaric appeared at once to claim her.

  “Thank you,” she said perfunctorily to Clarence.

  “It was my pleasure, Mrs. O’Brien.”

  He turned away, and Alaric took her hand, moving with her as the music commenced again.

  “All of Atlanta knows about Fortune and Michael and me,” she said. “I hadn’t realized—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. The only people who know anything are the ones close to Fortune or close to Wenger. What did Hoagland say to you?”

  “He said he knows we didn’t marry for love. He said he could see why I would want Fortune because he’s quite wealthy.”

  “Damn the man!”

  As they whirled about the room, Claire spotted Fortune in conversation, his head tilted as he listened to a short, portly man. But he was looking straight at her, and she wished it was Fortune who had caught her attention and winked at her instead of Alaric. Fortune nodded his head and said something to the man, but his gaze remained steadily on her.

  “Stop looking at him as if you can’t wait for him to come dance. Do me the grace to smile, or half the women in here will think I’m losing my charm.”

  Claire laughed, looking up at him. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any loss of esteem!”

  He smiled in return. “That’s much better. I shall have to think of something else to make you laugh. Let’s see, there aren’t many funny tales about your husband. About the only thing amusing me is that he is persisting in wanting me to work at the mill.”

  “Why is that amusing?”

  “I don’t feel cut out for that type of life. My father is a merchant, and he wants me to come back home to Philadelphia and learn the business.”

  “Fortune wouldn’t make you an offer if he didn’t feel he needed you. You know it isn’t out of friendship.”

  “No, I know that. Working with steel is exactly where a fellow like Fortune belongs—but I won’t get into that again,” he said with a sigh. His features became serious. “Claire, if you ever need a friend, I’ll always be there. You can ask for my help any time. You’re married to a man who can be harsh and unyielding when he makes up his mind about something. You haven’t crossed him since you exchanged vows, but if you ever do, you may need a friend. Don’t hesitate.”

  “Thank you, Alaric,” she answered. “I’ve never had a good friend.”

  “Dammit, you’ve never had anyone you could turn to. If you’d just give me a chance—”

  “Alaric, I have Fortune and I have Michael. I would never give up Michael. Never!” she stated emphatically, knowing it was not only true, but it was an explanation Alaric couldn’t argue against.

  “My charm is failing me like petunias beneath a blazing August sun. Ah, Claire, what you do to a man’s pride!”

  “You started this,” she answered, smiling at him. “And I know your pride will revive like petunias in a rain shower—”

  “I’m claiming my wife, you scoundrel” came Fortune’s voice, and they turned to face him. He smiled and took her hand from Alaric, pulling her toward him. “Go away, Alaric,” he said kindly.

  Alaric flashed a brilliant smile. “This may ruin my reputation with the ladies completely.”

  “Check and see if it has,” Fortune said negligently. He steered her away into the middle of the floor. “I got lo
st in mill talk.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “It was something I needed to do. I saw Hoagland dancing with you.”

  “He knows all about me from Trevor Wenger. They’re going to give you competition.”

  With a grim set to his jaw, Fortune looked over her head. “And I intend to give them competition very soon. And what do you mean, he knows all about you?”

  She thought about what Hoagland had said and shivered, unaware she had done so until she realized Fortune was watching her closely. “Did he do something he shouldn’t have?” he asked in that tone of voice that brought a chill to her.

  “No. I just didn’t like the man and don’t want him around me or touching me. I’m that way about most men. A woman traveling alone with a baby is vulnerable, and I developed this intense repugnance to men I don’t want around me.”

  “I’m glad,” Fortune said wryly. “I’d hate to think you liked their touching you.” Suddenly he perked up with an idea. “We’re newlyweds, so that should give us an excuse to leave early.”

  “Or start all kinds of wild speculation with people who know the truth.”

  “Let them wonder. You can watch Alaric’s eyebrows touch his hairline.”

  She smiled up at Fortune, who grinned in return. “It’s been a wonderful party, Fortune.”

  “I’m glad. Let’s go home, Claire.”

  How she wished he meant it with all his heart! Yet she knew he would kiss her when they reached home, and the prospect speeded her eagerness to go. They moved through the crowd to thank the Meadows, and it took Fortune another half hour to tell people good-bye.

  The night had cooled, and the air was refreshing as the team of matched blacks moved along briskly. Claire rode beside him, nestled against his side. The closer they came to their home, the more her awareness of him grew.

  When they went upstairs, he took her hand to walk to their large bedroom, where he closed the door. One small lamp burned and her new sheer batiste gown was laid out on the turned-down bed.

  Fortune slipped off his coat and tossed it aside. Her pulse began to drum as she watched him unfasten his cravat and drop it. His eyes pinned hers, sending her pulse jumping another notch. That smoldering look left no doubt he wanted her. He stretched out his long arms to draw her to him.