by Linda Swift
"And leave taking," Philip added with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.
"Christ, what a fine mess Abe Lincoln has gotten us into. I feared the controversy in Washington might prove disastrous but until Fort Sumter I had hoped it would not lead to this." He climbed into the carriage after Philip and nodded to the driver to proceed. "Though, I suppose war has been inevitable since the Confederacy was ratified."
Philip nodded. "The nation has no choice but follow the course dictated by honor. And neither do I."
"Your honor is not at stake, little brother," Edward protested. "There is a need for surgeons here, as well as with the soldiers."
"But our president has called for 75,000 volunteers. And not many among them will be trained in medicine as I am."
"Training be damned, Philip," Edward said vehemently. "War is not some romantic adventure that all young men need to experience while they sow their wild oats. It's a cruel, bloody job best done by those less fortunate than you."
"Are you suggesting that I ignore the call to serve for even ninety days?"
"To put it succinctly, yes. There are plenty of young bucks eager to protect the Union."
"And who will protect me from my conscience?"
"Ah, my idealistic little brother." Edward put up his hands in surrender. "Attempting to convince you to take the sensible course of action is as hopeless as trying to change the crusading nature of my beloved wife."
Philip grinned at the mention of his sister-in-law. "And what is my favorite zealot up to now?"
"A damned sight more than she's telling me," Edward shook his head in exasperation as they stopped in front of the Burke mansion.
Philip turned to look at the Greek Revival structure, a monument to his father's success, its dull red brick a sharp contrast against the white ground and bare black limbs of the tall maples that surrounded it. He thought of his mother waiting inside to welcome him. It was good to be home again, even for so brief a time.
Edward bade a temporary farewell to his brother and continued on to the newspaper office, leaving Philip to greet his mother and Dorothea alone. After an effusive welcome from both, he spent the remainder of the day having his new uniform altered to fit his lean frame and repacking his personal belongings for the trip to Washington in the morning.
• ♥ •
Darkness fell early at this time of year on Lake Ontario and all the lights were blazing by the time William and Thomas came home to dinner. As Philip dressed in his new uniform, he tried unsuccessfully to compose his demeanor into some semblance of optimism, but the situation was too grim.
"You're looking mighty fit, sir." Elijah's familiar words as he deftly buttoned the rows of shiny brass buttons failed to lighten Philip's mood.
"I wish I could say I'm looking forward to this grand adventure, Elijah, but truth to tell, I'm dreading it like the very devil."
"Ain't nothing wrong in that, Mistah Philip. A man got better things to do than fightin'—even for a good cause."
"Well spoken, Elijah." Philip stood taller and studied his pier glass reflection. "And I trust it won't be long until this war is over and I'm back where I belong."
"You'll have my prayers for that, Mistah Philip."
Philip grinned at the valet. "Then I can count on it." He turned toward the door, paused, and added, "Don't wait up for me. I may be quite late tonight."
Philip descended the stairs just as Edward and Virginia arrived.
"Oh, how splendid you look, Captain Burke," Virginia cried as she rushed to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him warmly.
Philip thanked her and self-consciously adjusted his coat as he protested, "It is only an honorary rank, you know."
Edward helped his wife remove her cloak and gave their wraps to Parson who stood nearby.
Helen Burke joined them in the hallway and ushered them into the drawing room where Dorothea and her sister were seated on the Turkish sofa beside the blazing fire.
"You remember Katherine Kingsley, Philip," his mother said as she returned to an armless chair facing the sofa.
"Why, yes, of course." His mother had invited Katherine at Christmas but with all the other relatives present, he had exchanged only a few brief words with her. Philip bowed low over the young woman's hand, then greeted Dorothea with a polite kiss on the cheek. He had not known her sister would be here tonight, and would have preferred that she not be, but he supposed this was another of his mother's attempts to find a suitable girl for him to marry. "How nice to see you, Miss Kingsley."
"Katherine, please," she said as she gave him a beguiling smile.
The others exchanged greetings, then Virginia inquired, "Where are Father Burke and Thomas? Surely not working later than Edward and me?"
"No, dear," Helen told her, "at least, not at the foundry, but they are still poring over contracts in the library."
"It should prove a profitable war, for the Burke family," Edward observed drily as he leaned one arm against the white marble mantel and stared into the flames.
"Don't be cynical, Edward," Helen said with a disapproving look. "It is a terrible thing that is happening, and we can only hope and pray that the foolish Confederate leaders will soon come to their senses and Philip will be home long before his three-month enlistment is over."
"It's going to be a long war, Mother. The South is convinced of their right to own slaves and the North is equally convinced of their obligation to free them."
"Edward, you make it all sound so simplistic, but you know it is much more complex than that. There's states' rights and the question of the territories and—"
"Please, Virginia, let's save the editorial for tomorrow's newspaper and enjoy a sociable chat with Dorothea and her charming sister." He took a chair near the sofa and addressed Katherine. "Have you had a pleasant year in the classroom, Miss Kingsley?"
"A very good year, Mister Burke, but I'm looking forward to the end of school so that I may join my sister and the other ladies of Oswego who are volunteering their services for the war effort."
"This was your first year to teach, wasn't it?" Edward continued, again steering the conversation away from her reference to the war.
Philip studied Katherine Kingsley's profile as she spoke with his brother. Her hair was the same pale brown as Dorothea's but arranged more stylishly and her dress of rose-colored silk was modestly cut, but fashionable. She was from one of Oswego's best families and well-educated. Perhaps his mother had made the right decision in asking her to come tonight.
An unfamiliar maid announced dinner, and Philip turned to Virginia and asked in an undertone, "What happened to Lucy?"
"Oh, Lucy has...moved on," Virginia answered softly.
"And this is your latest protégé?"
"My contribution to the war effort, dear Philip," she whispered with a sly smile.
Then William and Thomas joined them to escort their respective wives to dinner. Edward claimed Virginia, and Philip offered his arm to Katherine and they went into the dining room. The meal was befitting of the occasion, succulent roast of lamb with all the accompaniments, a bottle of aged wine, and for dessert Philip's favorite plum pudding with run-and-raisin sauce.
William paid special attention to Katherine who was seated on his left and she responded to his courteous overtures with an air of complete confidence. Philip, watching from the other side of the table, was aware of how much at ease she seemed. His impression of Miss Katherine Kingsley was becoming more favorable by the minute.
"Little brother, you had better stop wool gathering and learn to stay alert or you'll be cannon fodder for the first Confederate soldier who gets you in his sights."
"Edward," Virginia scolded, "don't even joke about such a thing."
With Philip's attention, Thomas repeated his question. "I was asking if you have any idea where you'll be going?"
"To Washington for assignment to a regiment, and after that I don't know."
"I would surmise that McDowell will march on Rich
mond," William said, "so you'll likely remain in the area."
"Please, I don't want to talk about the war tonight," Helen said. "Can't we just pretend for this last evening while Philip is here that all is as it should be?"
The family acquiesced to Helen's wishes and the talk turned to trivial matters, but it took great effort to avoid any mention of the event that was on all their minds since every other subject led back to it in some way.
As they finished dinner and the ladies retired to the drawing room for demitasse, Helen spoke to her husband and sons. "Please don't linger in the library. I want to hear Philip play tonight, and Katherine has agreed to sing for us."
Another pleasant surprise, Philip thought, as the men adjourned to the library where William passed out his best cigars while Parson served glasses of whiskey and soda. Dorothea's sister was proving to be full of surprises tonight.
"It's not too late to change your mind, Philip." William looked hopefully at his youngest son.
"I'm sorry, Father, but my choice has been made."
William lifted his glass. "Then here's to your safe and speedy return."
"And to a victorious war," Edward added.
"Hear, hear," the others chimed in.
When the toast was finished, they smoked and drank and talked of the role the foundry would play in the days to come, then they rejoined the ladies for a songfest.
Too soon the clock in the hallway was striking eleven, and the guests were taking their leave. As Philip held Katherine's cape, he said softly, "I enjoyed your performance tonight."
She smiled up at him with obvious pleasure. "And I enjoyed yours, as well."
"May I write to you, Katherine?" he asked in a low voice.
"I would like that very much," she told him, "and I promise to answer." Edward and Virginia had already taken their leave, and Thomas and Dorothea waited on the stoop. Katherine reached out her hand impulsively and touched Philip's arm. "I shall pray for your safe return."
He covered her hand with his. "Thank you, Katherine." He brought it to his lips, inhaling the scent of heather. "Goodbye, till we meet again."
Watching his brother assist the two women into their carriage, Philip wished that he was staying in Oswego, starting his practice of medicine, and beginning a courtship of the lovely woman he was just beginning to know.
• ♥ •
Chattanooga, April 1861
Clarissa sat on the wide veranda overlooking the greening lawn that sloped toward the banks of the Tennessee River. Spring came earlier to East Tennessee than to Kentucky, she observed, savoring the scent of lilacs in the faint breeze that riffled the edges of the dimity baby dress she was stitching. Clarissa yawned and glanced again at the gazebo which stood between the house and river, covered with blooming wisteria vines that almost hid its occupants from view. She would have much preferred a nap this afternoon but when Nathan Forsythe had requested to speak with her sister, propriety had required her to act as chaperone instead.
It was not quite four months since Angeline had come to stay at Whitehaven and Nathan had been her most ardent suitor, having little serious competition after his cousin returned to West Point. But all that changed when Talmage came home two days ago following the incident at Fort Sumter. Clarissa sighed regretfully. Everything was changing now that the Confederate States of America had been created and Tennessee was on the verge of seceding from the Union. She put aside her sewing, leaned her head against the high-backed rocker, and closed her eyes. The nausea she felt in the early days of pregnancy had finally passed as Polly had promised, but her lethargy had worsened.
"Clarissa?"
Her sister's voice penetrated Clarissa's light sleep and she sat up quickly. "Oh, I must have dozed." She looked at Angeline standing beside her chair alone. "Did Nathan leave?"
"Yes, he had to go home and change for the party tonight, but he's asked me to go with him tonight," she closed her parasol that matched her pink polka dotted dress, "if you and Malcolm will accompany us, of course." She suddenly looked worried. "I should have asked before I said yes but I—"
"It's all right," Clarissa assured her. "I'll be happy to ride to Rossville in Nathan's carriage."
"But will Malcolm—"
"Malcolm has been there since early morning and he won't be coming back until after the party." Clarissa picked up her sewing and took a few careful stitches.
"Sister," Angeline touched her sister's hand to get her full attention. "Nathan has asked me to marry him."
Clarissa's needle stilled, and she looked up into Angeline's triumphant face. "Why, that's wonderful." She hesitated, then added, "If this is what you want."
"Of course it is." Angeline smiled. "And we intend to announce our engagement tonight, with your approval. We'll send a letter to Father tomorrow asking for his permission to make it official but—"
"You have my approval, Angeline, and our father's as well, I'm quite certain."
"Oh, I wish Father and Matilda could be here. I'm sure it would make them very happy."
Clarissa, much wiser and more cautious than she was a year earlier, continued her gentle probing. "But will it make you happy?"
"Why, sister, this is what we both hoped for when I came to stay with you." She did a fast pirouette. "Nathan Forsythe is the catch of Chattanooga, and just think, I'm the lucky girl who has caught him."
Clarissa rose, laughing, and embraced her sister. "Well, he's the lucky one. There's not a more beautiful belle in this city. And you could have your pick of any of the eligible young men around. I've noticed that Talmage has renewed his attentions to you since he arrived. Are you sure you aren't being hasty in accepting the first proposal you receive?"
"Quite sure." Angeline looked serious. "Talmage is very nice and I believe he would make a fine husband, but Nathan's prospects are more promising, and that's important to me."
"You make it sound as if you're offering yourself to the highest bidder," Clarissa said sadly.
"Didn't you?" Angeline asked softly, then without waiting for an answer, she asked another question. "Would it be all right if I wear your plum silk gown tonight?"
"Of course," Clarissa said quickly and gestured to her mid-section. "I don’t think I’ll be wearing it again for several months since Polly couldn’t find any way to let out the seams. And you must wear our mother’s brooch with it, too."
"And could I borrow Polly to fix my hair since Betsy always burns my neck with the curling iron?"
Clarissa agreed and after an effusive hug, Angeline went inside to find Polly and her own maid and begin preparations for the evening. Looking after her with a pensive expression, Clarissa thought about what her younger sister had said. She had agreed to marry Malcolm Wakefield because he was wealthy as well as handsome. And although she’d hoped Angeline would favor Talmage so that her sister could continue living at Whitehaven, perhaps it was best that she marry the Forsythe heir and become mistress of Cedarhurst in time. As Angeline had reminded her, this was the culmination of their efforts and she should feel pleased that everything had worked out so well. After all, since their father’s debts had left them practically penniless, the Giles girls were fortunate to have been given their mother’s beauty and the opportunity to use it to make suitable marriages. Wasn’t that enough without expecting to be happy as well?
• ♥ •
Rossville, Georgia, April 1861
Lights blazed from every window at Fleur-de-Lis as the carriage rolled to a stop in the circular driveway. Nathan and a liveried servant assisted Clarissa and Angeline as they stepped down, then Nathan offered an arm to each and escorted them to the massive front door where Lydia and Sylvester were greeting their arriving guests.
"Clarissa, I'm so glad you could come." Lydia's eyes swept over her brother's wife, lingering at the slight protrusion of her abdomen which was barely visible beneath the cleverly arranged folds of fawn-colored taffeta. "You're looking well."
Clarissa forced a bright smile as she leaned f
orward to kiss the proffered cheek of her hostess. "I'm feeling well, thank you." "And Nathan, how handsome you are in uniform." Lydia reached out a slender hand to touch his well-tailored butternut coat, then flashed a quick smile toward Angeline and turned to greet the people behind them.
The drawing room was already crowded with people whose voices blended with the sound of music coming from the ballroom on the opposite side of the hallway. Leaving their wraps with a servant in the foyer, they were soon surrounded by friends and family. Clarissa's eyes searched the room for Malcolm, finally spotting him sprawled on a loveseat near the piano, his hair disheveled and jacket open. It was obvious even from so far away that he had been celebrating before the party began.
With a sigh of resignation, Clarissa made her way toward her husband, revulsion causing her to walk slowly as she wove her way between the maze of fancy hoop skirts.
"Malcolm?" she said softly with a forced smile.
He looked at her indifferently. "Well, if it isn't my beautiful wife." He drew his eyebrows into a scowl. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to honor the Confederacy and those who are going to Richmond."
"Your first concern should be the child you are carrying." He sat up straighter. "So take care you do nothing to harm the Wakefield heir apparent."
Clarissa was saved from replying by Josiah Wakefield who raised his voice at that moment, calling for attention. When a muted hush fell on those present, he continued.
"My daughter Lydia asked me to welcome all of you to Fleur-de-Lis this evening on behalf of the Townsend, Forsythe, and Wakefield families. As all of you are aware, we're here to show our support for the Confederate States of America to which we'll surely soon belong." A cheer rose from those gathered together and then they fell silent again. "We are also here this evening to recognize some of our state's finest young men who have volunteered their service for the Confederate cause. I am proud to name my sons Malcolm and Talmage, my son-in-law Sylvester Townsend, and my nephew Nathan Forsythe among those who have answered the call to arms and will be departing for Richmond at daybreak with the four new slaves I have purchased to accompany them."
