“I did,” the woman said, straightening. “He said nothing could be done. I believe the white officers are afraid of the blacks. If you ask me, I think the Colored Troops are out of control and the white officers can no longer keep order.”
“This is most distressing news,” Mother said, shaking her head. “I cannot believe such a violation would go unpunished. To desecrate the grave . . .” Her words faded as she looked to Laura.
“Is there anything we can do, Mrs. Meuly?” Laura asked.
“No. If my Conrad hadn’t succumbed to yellow fever, he would have never allowed this to happen.”
Laura had heard that Mr. Meuly had died earlier in the month while in Brownsville. For that reason alone, Laura was startled that Mrs. Meuly was even allowing herself to be seen in public, but the times had wreaked havoc with traditions. Especially the customs of mourning.
“We are so sorry, my dear,” Mother finally replied, patting the woman’s black-gloved hand. “Do let us know if there is anything we can do to assist you. These are most troubling days. I suppose it shall take a long time to see order reestablished and for life to return to as it once was.”
“This used to be such a wonderful city.” Mrs. Meuly shook her head. “I must go now.”
“Please accept our condolences once again on Conrad’s passing.” Mother leaned forward to give the woman’s cheek a kiss through the veil. “If you need anything, do let us know. You are always welcome to come and stay with us.”
“You are a good friend, Agatha,” the woman said, turning to her daughter. “But I will be well looked after.”
“I cannot understand why the men in charge of this city fail to keep order,” Mother said as they watched Mrs. Meuly and her daughter depart.
“I wonder if it might help were we to speak to Captain Reid,” Laura said thoughtfully. “He seems an admirable man, and he is good friends with General Russell. Perhaps he could convince the general to do something more for Mrs. Meuly.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Mother replied. “I do like Captain Reid, and he seems more than a little sweet on you. Has he given you any indication that he might come to call?”
Laura thought of his comments at the party, but shook her head. “I find him to be attentive, but he hasn’t really shared his thoughts on such matters.”
“Well, I have faith he will. In fact, your father has been approached by several other would-be suitors, but they were not acceptable.”
Laura looked up in surprise. She had been about to eat a shrimp, but instead put the fork down. “What suitors?”
Her mother shrugged. “Mostly older war veterans returning to start their lives anew. Certainly no one who had come to call before the war.”
“Most of them are dead,” Laura admitted. She remembered sadly reading the casualty lists with her mother and sister and commenting on all the families who had lost someone dear.
“Your father is looking out for your best interests, I will say that. He knows that you are of a particular nature, and it will be his job to find a man who will be well matched with your temperament.”
Laura knew her father to be a fair man. He cared a great deal about her happiness, and she was certain he wouldn’t force her into a marriage of convenience. Across the street several men came into view and Laura was surprised to see her future brother-in-law among them. The men darted down the alley so quickly, almost as if they were being pursued, that Laura had no chance to point him out to Mother.
What in the world was Malcolm doing there in the middle of the day? Laura took a sip of tea. Wasn’t he supposed to be working at the flour mill . . . or at least training at such a job?
“Mother, did Carissa ever say if Malcolm likes his job at the mill?”
“No, she doesn’t talk about anything but the wedding. And can you blame her? There is so much to arrange. Goodness, but it makes me question my sense in pushing for a quick wedding.”
“Well, you know my thoughts on that,” Laura declared. “It isn’t too late to reset the date.”
“Oh, it would be a scandal to change dates now—bad luck, too.” Mother shook her head. “No, we will work together and make this the wedding of the year. No matter how bad things have gotten in Texas, we will show our spirit and put on a good face.”
When they finally headed home, Laura handled the small carriage. She loved the feel of driving the horses. There was a certain thrill at possessing so much power in her hands. Upon their arrival, Laura was more than a little pleased to find Brandon’s mount hitched outside the house.
“Oh, I daresay Captain Reid is here,” Laura murmured. “Perhaps I can speak to him about Mrs. Meuly.”
Mother led the way to the front sitting room, and that was where they found Brandon and Laura’s father enjoying a cup of coffee.
“Ladies, we were just discussing you,” Father announced as he and Brandon got to their feet.
“Captain Reid, it is an honor to see you again.” Mother beamed him a smile. “Will you be able to visit for a while?”
“I’m no longer a captain, ma’am, but rather a simple civilian.” He smiled. “I would be honored if you were to call me Brandon.” He gave a slight bow and straightened. “As for your question, that will depend upon Miss Marquardt.”
Laura looked around the room, and not seeing her sister, put her gloved hand to her chest. “Me?”
“You indeed,” Brandon said.
“Why would I have anything to say over whether you stayed to visit?” She looked to her father, who was now smiling. “Have I missed the joke?”
“Not at all,” Brandon said with a chuckle. “I’ve merely come to speak with your father about a most important matter. I have asked if I might call on you—court you.”
Laura felt her heart beat wildly. She suddenly felt dry-mouthed and unable to speak. She couldn’t look away from Brandon’s piercing gaze.
“Well goodness, Mr. Marquardt. Do not keep us in suspense. What did you say?” Mother asked.
“I told him I would happily allow him to court Laura. He is a decorated war hero and he’s convinced me of his intentions to treat our daughter in an admirable manner. However, I told him the final approval would have to come from Laura herself. I will not have a suitor imposed upon my daughter.”
At this everyone turned in unison to Laura. She saw the question in each person’s eyes and might have laughed had it not been such an important moment. “I would . . . would be glad to receive the captain.”
“Brandon,” he said firmly.
“Brandon.” She murmured the name as if trying it on for size.
“Then let us celebrate,” Father declared. “Call for Esther to serve us under the canopy.”
Mother nodded and hurried from the room, while Father turned to Laura. “I have no doubt you will conduct your courtship in an honorable manner.” He kissed her forehead. “I will see you both outside.”
Once he was gone, Laura was very conscious that she was alone with Brandon. She gazed at him, still not quite believing what had just happened.
“You look as though you’ve just seen a ghost,” Brandon said with a grin. “Have I troubled you?”
“You know you have not,” she answered quickly. “I am surprised, however. I thought you might have . . . well . . . spoken to me about such a matter first. You had no way of knowing if I would agree to such a thing.”
“Didn’t I?” he asked, sounding amused.
Laura felt her face grow hot. Goodness, but this man could fluster her in a way no other had. He seemed to know what she was thinking before she could even rationalize it for herself.
Brandon reached out and took hold of her hands. “Don’t be embarrassed. I love that you wear your feelings so obviously. I find it most refreshing.” He leaned over and kissed the back of her gloved hands before offering her a devilish smile. “I’m also quite captivated by your beauty, Miss Marquardt.”
“Laura,” she whispered. “If I am to call you Brandon, you must call me
Laura.”
He nodded. “I would very much like that . . . Laura.”
Carissa sat up in bed at Laura’s announcement later that night. “Oh, this is wonderful news. I had hoped you might find a beau and now you have. And Brandon is so very dashing.” She clapped her hands together. “And he is to be my brother!”
Laura shook her head. “You’re putting the cart before the horse, Carissa. He has only asked to court me—not to marry me.”
“Oh, pshaw. He’s merely following protocol. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a gentleman. Besides, no one asks to court a woman unless he’s serious.” Carissa sat back against a mound of pillows and sighed. “It would be wonderful if we were to have double wedding. I would love sharing that day with you. Oh, wouldn’t it be grand?”
Laura continued pulling pins from her hair and ignored her sister’s prattling. Carissa was always given to daydreams. It was a part of her girlish spirit. Taking up her brush, Laura began combing through her long, thick hair. It fell below her waist and had never been cut. Over the years, she had sometimes wished her hair had been lighter—more golden like Carissa’s, but now she was completely content with her warm brown tones.
“I’ll bet Mother was beside herself with joy,” Carissa declared. “She has often said that she feared the war would leave us both spinsters and deprive her of grandchildren. Now she will have everything that she desires.”
“As I said, you are getting well ahead of yourself.” Laura put aside the brush and stood to undress. “Are you feeling better? Would you be up to visiting Mr. May’s shop tomorrow? He has some beautiful lace put aside for you. Mother thinks it would make a lovely veil.”
“I should be just fine,” Carissa said, patting her stomach. “The cramping has improved. I should be perfectly well on the morrow.”
Laura nodded. “Then I shall drive you myself. Mother was nearly beside herself from the stress of the day. It didn’t help that Mrs. Meuly shared her awful news. Her house was devastated by some of the colored troops.”
“No! How awful. But why would they do such a thing?”
“It seems there has been much looting and pillaging. When I mentioned it to Brandon, he was more than a little distressed to hear of it. Apparently the army is seeking to find the culprits and stop such madness, but they are limited by how much time they can spend on such matters.”
“Still, that is completely uncalled for. The Meulys were Unionists. They shouldn’t meet with harm by the troops.”
“I agree. My hope is that Brandon can figure out some way to help. It’s a sorry day when widows and orphans have to fear their very protectors.”
8
Stand still, you ninny, or Mrs. Demarist will stick a pin in you,” Laura rebuked. Her sister’s wedding dress fitting was turning into something of a circus.
“I want to see how it looks,” Carissa complained, straining to see her reflection in the cheval mirror.
“Wait until she’s done pinning the hem and then you can.”
Laura knew her sister’s impatience was starting to get on the older woman’s nerves. Mrs. Demarist, a determined perfectionist, moved with painstakingly slow attention to detail. Often she would stop and eye the hem of the gown, then redo a section until she had it just right.
“You are going to make a beautiful bride,” Laura said, smiling at Carissa.
“I can hardly believe the wedding is only a month away. Less than that, in fact. Today is the tenth and we will marry on the ninth of September.” Carissa gave a little sigh. “I’m so happy.”
Laura thought perhaps by mentioning the day’s date, Carissa might remember it was in fact Laura’s twenty-second birthday. But there was no forthcoming comment. The girl was clearly consumed by thoughts of her upcoming nuptials. During the war, it was easy to understand forgetting such personal celebrations, but Laura had been surprised when no one had even mentioned her birthday at breakfast. She was trying not to be angry about it; after all, it wasn’t like she expected presents or a lavish party.
Mrs. Demarist finally had the hem pinned in place and stood back, eyeing her creation. “The bodice is a little loose, but I can easily adjust that,” she commented. Pulling up a little pad of paper that hung from her chatelaine, she jotted a note to herself.
Carissa was now in front of the mirror trying to eye her wedding dress from all sides. “It’s everything I had hoped for. I look like a princess.” She giggled and gave a turn and watched herself in the mirror. “I can scarcely wait another month.”
“But you must,” Laura said. “And you should be waiting longer than that. Getting married so quickly will only cause the gossips to talk about you.”
“I don’t mind that. At least they’re thinking about me,” Carissa declared.
Laura shook her head. “Let’s get you out of the dress so that Mrs. Demarist can get back to work.”
The fitting had already taken three hours, and Laura was more than a little anxious to get back home. Brandon had arranged to call on her that afternoon, and she still wanted time to freshen up and change into something more appealing.
She glanced down at her simple gown of dark blue. The skirt had been cut down a bit to draw it in and lessen the fullness. The style seemed to be changing from hoops and crinolines to bustles and stiffened hems, and those with the means were busy having gowns altered whenever possible. Mrs. Demarist’s talent for remaking a gown was quite well-known, and Laura had her to thank for the perfectly fitted walking dress.
Once the girls returned home, Laura quickly made her way upstairs and had Carlita fill the small copper bathing tub with tepid water. Laura would have liked to have stayed in the water for a long soak if the fitting had not taken so long. Instead, she hurriedly bathed and allowed Carlita to help her dress.
“This gown is good for you,” Carlita said, easing the sprigged cotton dress over Laura’s head. “It make you look so beautiful.” She smoothed the folds of material into place, and then did up the buttons in back.
“Thank you for suggesting it,” Laura replied, “and for your compliment. I’m quite a nervous wreck today. I suppose that given the fact that I’m about to embark on a new adventure with Captain—I mean Mr. Reid, it is to be expected. Nevertheless, I really want to enjoy myself. Instead, I feel like a hundred butterflies are flittering about in my stomach.”
Carlita giggled. “My sister would say she have cats fighting inside. But you no look nervous at all.” She finished with the buttons and Laura turned.
“What shall we do with my hair?”
The little Mexican maid considered this question for a moment, then said, “I get a hot iron, and we make beautiful curls. We pin them to fall down your back.” When Carlita hurried from the room, Laura took a moment to really study herself in the mirror.
Despite her birthday having been forgotten, Laura had to admit she looked happy. “Perhaps because I am,” she told her reflection.
She took a seat at the vanity and picked up her fan. The day was miserably warm, and they were in desperate need of rain. What few storms they’d had that summer had been brief and had done little to resolve the drought they were suffering.
“Here we are,” Carlita declared, holding up the iron in one hand.
It was only then that it dawned on Laura that they would need to lay a fire if they were to use the iron.
“Oh bother,” she said, looking to Carlita. “Let’s forget about it. I have no desire to suffer a heatstroke, but if we start a fire, I most certainly will.”
Carlita frowned. “I did not think.” She shrugged and put the iron aside. “I will make for you a special style.” She picked up the brush and immediately set to work.
Laura had no idea what Carlita had in mind, but once the little maid stepped back, Laura gasped in pleasure. “It’s perfect. Thank you!”
She touched her hand to the small braided coil atop her head. From this a wave of hair bounded down from the center to the middle of her back. “It looks very German,”
she told Carlita. “They often use braiding to decorate their hair.”
The chiming of the clock let Laura know it was time for Brandon’s arrival. She got to her feet and snapped shut her fan. She had just opened her bedroom door when she heard voices coming from somewhere downstairs. It was Brandon speaking with the butler.
“He’s already here!” Her heart skipped a beat as it picked up its pace. This was to be their first official outing, and Laura could only pray that it would be as wonderful as she had already imagined it.
Brandon was seated in the front parlor to await Laura’s arrival. He had borrowed a small phaeton with the idea of taking a leisurely drive with her. With the top down, the couple would be visible for all to see and hopefully there would be no need for an accompanying chaperone. Of course, the vehicle was often considered quite dangerous and rather risky due to its large wheels and ability for speed, but Brandon felt confident he could handle the spirited team.
Laura entered the room with a radiant smile. She was wearing a white dress with touches of green and pink, where the patterns of leaves and flowers were clustered. She looked so small and delicate that when she extended her gloved hand, Brandon worried about gripping her too hard as he claimed her fingers.
“Miss Marquardt, you do look most beautiful.”
She blushed. “Thank you. You are most kind.”
Brandon released her hand. “I thought a drive might be fun. Do you suppose your parents would object? I have already put the hood back on the phaeton, and we will be quite visible.”
“I do not believe they would refuse us. My mother and sister are making calls, but my father is in his office. Why don’t we ask him to make certain?”
Brandon nodded. “I would be glad to do so.”
He allowed Laura to lead the way. Mr. Marquardt sat behind a large oak desk, poring over several charts that appeared to be of the Corpus Christi Bay.
“Mr. Reid. How good to see you again.”
Touching the Sky Page 7
