by Linda Swift
"Engaged?" Devon repeated the word slowly. "Engaged?"
"Oh, Clarissa, now see what you've done." Angeline looked stricken. "I was going to tell you, Devon, but I didn't want to hurt you and—"
"Didn't want to hurt me?" Devon's voice trembled.
"Well, it happened a long time ago and I don't love him the way I—"
"That's enough, Angeline." Clarissa looked at Devon O'Conner. "My sister is quite upset and obviously confused. I think we had better discuss this later."
Devon looked at her as though not seeing her at all. "Thank you, Mrs. Wakefield, for telling me how things are. There's nothing else to discuss." He turned and limped toward the dining room.
Angeline stifled a sob and ran up the stairs, and just as Clarissa was debating whether to follow or give her sister a chance to calm down before they talked, the matter was decided for her.
"Clarissa, I hoped I'd find you here." Josiah Wakefield stood just inside the front door looking disheveled and out of breath. "Now maybe I can get to the bottom of this—this mess. What are you doing here, and where is Napoleon?"
"Napoleon? Didn't he return to Fleur-de-Lis last night?" Had something happened to the carriage driver on the way back?
"Return? I wasn't even aware he'd left. At least, not until I found my carriage outside a moment ago and then found you here. What do you know about this, Clarissa?"
Taking a deep breath, she told as much of the truth as she dared. "Father Wakefield, I needed to return to Whitehaven. As you know, my sister was here alone. Malcolm and I quarreled about my coming back and I—I just sent for the carriage and ordered Napoleon to bring me here. I don't know what happened after that. I thought he was going back to Fleur-de-Lis."
"More likely he's run away. I've been half-expecting this for some time. He's smarter than most of the others and he may have gotten ideas from being given so much freedom working here in the hospital."
"I could ask Polly if she knows anything, Father Burke."
"Polly? What has she got to do with it?"
"Well, she was in the carriage last night and he may have said some—"
"Polly was in the carriage? Why isn't she at Fleur-de-Lis with Robert?"
"Because..." Clarissa hesitated, knowing this admission might stretch Josiah's patience to breaking, "I brought Robert back with me."
"Here?" Josiah thundered.
Clarissa faced her father-in-law with a determined expression. "Yes. Robert misses me, and I miss my son. And Polly can take care of him just as well at Whitehaven."
Staring at his daughter-in-law, Josiah noticed her face for the first time. "Clarissa, what on earth happened to you?"
"I—we encountered soldiers last night."
"My God, you could have been killed. My grandson could be dead." Josiah looked stricken. "My dear, you must let me take him back to Fleur-de-Lis where he'll be safe."
"He's already here, Father Wakefield," Clarissa said with determination. "And I promise not to let him leave the house again."
"But the Union could invade the city and—"
"And if that should happen, I promise I'll send Robert and Polly back to Fleur-de-Lis before the battle."
"If Malcolm had known that his son had been taken away I don't think he would have left for Virginia this morning." He looked at her and shook his head. "And I scarcely know what to do with his headstrong wife in his absence. I am torn between wanting what is best for you and your sister and what is needed by the Confederacy."
"Why, Father Wakefield," Clarissa took a step toward Josiah and touched his arm, "there can be no question that our worthy cause must come first."
"You are very persuasive, my dear." Josiah put an arm around her. "Come, let's find Captain Burke and break the news to him that Napoleon is gone."
Clarissa followed Josiah toward the library, trying to sort out all that had happened. Her sister had fallen in love with an unsuitable Irishman, a valuable slave was missing, she had defied her husband, endangered her son, and told enough lies to send her to hell. And everything that had happened could be blamed on her own impulsive actions that began when she first looked into the depths of Philip Burke's blue eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Oswego, July 1863
Virginia read the letter a second time, then lowered it and scrutinized the bedraggled slave who stood before her in the office of the Oswego Daily News.
"And how did you come by such a fine recommendation from my brother-in-law, Napoleon?"
He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his lanky frame swaying slightly as he moved. "I done work for the Cap'ain, ma'am."
"What kind of work?"
"Work for him and Miss Clarissa in the hospital, ma'am."
"Such as?" Virginia persisted.
"Taking stuff to the wash house and emptying the, uh, waste and...burying the...body parts the Cap'ain cut off—"
Virginia waved her hands to stop the words. "I see." She drew her brows together thoughtfully. "And who is this Miss Clarissa you spoke of?"
"She the nurse heps Cap'ain Burke."
"I see," Virginia said again. She looked at the tall young man, meeting his dark, intelligent eyes before he quickly lowered his head. "And what did you do before the war—before you worked in the hospital?"
"I drove the carriage for Masta Wakefield, ma'am. He be the one owns Whitehaven."
"You can handle horses, then?"
"Yes'um."
Virginia smiled. "Well, Napoleon, I think you've got yourself a job. How would you like to drive a carriage for me?"
"Jes fine, ma'am."
"Now I want you to go to my house—I'll send one of our helpers here to show you the way—and take this note and another I'm going to write for you. My housekeeper will feed you and get you some suitable clothes. Then, I want you to rest, because we'll be going to New York City as soon as I can get ready."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"The thanks go to Captain Burke." Virginia quickly scrawled the note and dispatched the slave and helper to her home. As she closed the back door after their departure, Edward came in the front.
"Virginia, darling," he came to kiss her, and together, they walked toward their private office. "I'm sorry that took so long but the soldiers who have come back from Gettysburg had little new to tell me that we haven't already written about."
"That's quite all right, Edward. I'm sure you've gotten the best information possible for our editorial tomorrow." She sat down to avoid the impression of being anxious to rush away and said casually. "But now that you're here, I think I'll be going back home to pack my things."
"Pack?" Edward looked at her blankly.
"For my trip to the city."
"New York?" Edward frowned. I know we discussed the possibility, but I thought we'd agreed it was out of the question."
"For you, yes. But not for me."
"Virginia, it wouldn't be safe for a woman alone to go into that inferno."
"I won't be alone. I've hired a new carriage driver. A strong, young black man who is quite capable of protecting me." She stood and gathered her things."
"You hired a driver? When? Who?"
"His name is Napoleon. And your bother Philip sent him to me."
"Philip? He's a runaway slave, then?" Edward looked worried.
"Napoleon assisted Philip at the hospital in Chattanooga where he's been practicing." They never referred to the fact that he was a prisoner when they spoke of him.
"But the protesters are killing every Negro they can find, Virginia."
"Including babies in a Negro orphanage. And with Greeley's Tribune office burned down, who's going to report all this?" she gave her husband a triumphant smile. "We are, that's who."
"Then I'll come with you."
"Philip, darling, you know we can't both go. And I'm the one who feels most strongly about this, so I'm the one who should write the stories. And you must stay here to print them, don't you see?" She slipped her arms around his n
eck and looked up into his eyes beseechingly.
"I should forbid you to do this, but how can I when you look at me that way?" He bent to kiss her, then continued. "But I'd feel better if you weren't alone."
"Then I'll take Katherine. It would do her good to get away. Dorothea says since school is out, she has practically taken to her bed grieving over Philip."
"Poor girl." Edward nodded. "And I'm sure she would go with you if you appeal to her patriotism."
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. The mystery of Philip's strange behavior is solved."
"You mean his insane decision of throwing over Katherine or refusing the exchange Father worked so long to arrange?"
"Both. And it is as I suspected. Another woman."
"A woman?" Edward's expression mirrored his surprise.
Virginia nodded grimly. "A woman named Clarissa who is his nurse at Whitehaven. I pieced it all together from the slave he sent to us."
"My God." Edward gave a long whistle. "I should have known only a woman could have caused this much trouble."
"Edward," Virginia chided.
"And she would have to be a daughter of the Confederacy, wouldn't she?" Edward mused.
"I believe so, or why wouldn't he have come home and brought her with him?"
"My poor little brother." Edward moaned. "How foolish of him to fall in love with a woman we can never accept."
He crossed to the doorway and pulled his wife into a long embrace, then reluctantly said goodbye. Hastily putting on her bonnet, Virginia hurried away toward the Kingsley house, her mind already on the heart-wrenching stories she would write of the New York riots.
• ♥ •
Chattanooga, July 1863
Every window at Whitehaven was open to take advantage of any breeze that might blow off the river but the city, enclosed on all sides by mountains, remained oppressive in the summer heat. Even in the early morning, Clarissa’s body was damp with a fine sheen of moisture which made the struggle to close her chemise doubly difficult.
At first, when she had missed her monthly time, she’d blamed it on the recent turmoil in her life. And even when the morning sickness came, she told herself that it was due to resuming the sordid tasks Napoleon had been doing for the hospital before he ran away. Fearing the loss of yet another valuable slave, Josiah had refused to replace their helper. Perhaps he would have felt differently if he’d known his daughter-in-law was carrying another child, but she vowed to keep the fact a secret as long as possible for he would certainly demand that she return to Fleur-de-Lis and she would rather go to hell.
She pulled on her pantalets and fastened them, thankful, at least, that she was long-waisted and had little extra weight. It would be easier to continue hiding her condition if she wore crinolines, but since both she and Angeline had discarded them long ago, to wear one now would only draw more attention to her body. They had also abandoned tight-laced corsets in favor of the freedom needed in their work, and for that, she was also thankful. And Polly had sewed loose aprons for her, which protected her gowns and also served to hide the slight swelling in her abdomen.
Polly and Robert were just going down the stairs when Clarissa left her room, and she bent to kiss her son whose second birthday was only a week away.
"Seem like this heat never gonna break," Polly complained. "What we need is a bad storm."
"Don’t say that, Polly. It really would be bad for General Bragg’s troops marching back from Shelbyville. They have enough trouble as it is."
"And we’ll have troubles, too, when they git here and them soldiers are everywhere disturbin’ folks."
"Why, Polly, how unpatriotic you sound. We should welcome our fighting men and try to do everything we can to make their lives better while they’re here."
Angeline joined them at the bottom of the stairs, giving them a polite but listless greeting. The relationship between the two sisters had remained strained since the day Clarissa had returned from Fleur-de-Lis, which had also coincided with Devon O’Conner’s departure.
Clarissa had tried to appeal to her sister’s good sense, loyalty to the Confederacy, duty to her fiancé, and every other reason she could dredge up for putting the attractive Irishman out of her thoughts, but Angeline remained tight-lipped and somber. She had lost weight, Clarissa noted with continued concern, and her maize-colored challis dress and sallow complexion were well-matched.
"Good morning, sister," Clarissa said cheerfully. "Do you think we might take the soldiers who are able out on the lawn for a picnic at lunch? Luke could help us. It should be cooler than inside, and we could spread the table in the gazebo."
Angeline winced at Clarissa’s last word and shook her head. "It’s much too hot, I think." She passed them wearily and went into the kitchen.
"That girl gonna grieve herself to death," Polly mumbled under her breath and gave Clarissa an accusing look.
"Well, I can’t help—"
"Clarissa, my dear." Josiah Wakefield came striding into the front hallway and Robert ran toward him and was swept high into the air. "And here’s my little man. Give your old grandfather a big hug. There, that’s the boy." He set him down and continued talking as if only to the child. "I’ve had a letter from your papa just this morning."
"Papa?" Robert repeated.
"Yes, Robert. And he sends you his love."
Josiah’s eyes sought Clarissa’s before he continued. Malcolm had not written to Clarissa since learning of her return to Whitehaven and she wondered if his father knew this, but the subject had never been mentioned between them.
"Lee’s Army is still in retreat. He said they’ve left the Shenandoah Valley and should be in Richmond soon." Josiah shook his head regretfully. "The Gettysburg Campaign has failed. And so close on the heels of our loss of Vicksburg; we are in deep trouble, indeed."
"And General Bragg retreating, too."
"Yes," Josiah agreed, "and that is what concerns me most of all. Rosecrans is sure to pursue him as soon as he gathers reinforcements. This area is predicted to be the next major campaign of the war, so I think it is time for you and the others to come to Fleur-de-Lis."
"But Father Wakefield, our Confederacy has never needed the hospital at Whitehaven as much as it will when that happens," Clarissa protested. "You know we can’t leave now."
"Then I should take Robert back to assure his safety."
"Not yet. Next week is his birthday. Let’s wait and see what happens after that. You know it will take weeks to get the armies in position for battle and I promise to send him at the first sign of trouble."
"I’m not convinced of your wisdom in this, Clarissa," Josiah turned toward the door, "but I suppose a little longer won’t matter." He bent for Robert’s goodbye hug.
"Can you come for Robert’s birthday, Father Wakefield?" Clarissa called after him as he hurried toward his carriage.
"Wouldn’t miss it," he answered as his new driver opened the door for him and assisted him inside.
Clarissa took Robert’s hand and hurried to catch up with Polly who was walking slowly toward the kitchen.
"Polly," Philip called when he saw her pass the library door alone.
"Yes, suh?" She hesitated, looking uncertain.
"I just wanted to let you know that I’ve heard from my sister-in-law in New York, and the...cargo I sent her arrived safely."
Polly closed her eyes and said prayerfully. "Praise be to glory."
Clarissa and her son caught up with Polly at that moment. She looked curiously from Philip to her slave, wondering what they had been talking about but not wanting to ask.
"Please take Robert and give him breakfast now." She knelt to kiss him before she relinquished his hand to Polly.
"Good morning, Mrs. Wakefield, Robert," Philip said, and smiled at the little boy.
"Say good morning to Captain Burke, Robert."
"Good mor’ing, suh." Robert returned the captain’s smile and walked away with Polly.
"There’s no surgery to b
e done today. Perhaps you and your sister would like to spend the afternoon with your friends?" He waited for a moment, and when she didn’t answer, he added. "I think Miss Giles could do with a little diversion since she seems to be in a constant state of melancholy."
"We have no friends left in the city, Captain Burke. They’ve all gone to visit relatives or to their summer homes on Lookout Mountain."
"I see."
"And as for the other, I’m afraid it would take more than an afternoon of pleasure to get rid of my sister’s melancholy. She is still pining for that incorrigible Irishman who took advantage of her while I was away."
"I don’t think Devon O’Conner compromised your sister, unless falling in love with her was wrong."
"He had no right to do that," Clarissa said vehemently.
"We don’t chose those whom we will love, Mrs. Wakefield." Philip’s deep blue eyes met hers and neither could look away. Clarissa lost all awareness of the sounds around them as the pounding of her heart grew to fill her head. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came. She ran her tongue over her trembling lip and Philip drew his breath in sharply, but still neither of them broke the spell.
Finally, she found her way out of the inertia that had paralyzed her and whispered, "And we don’t always love those whom we should, Captain." Then she walked away.
• ♥ •
Chattanooga, September, 1863
"I wish that man would make up his mind," Polly complained as she unpacked Robert's things for the second time. "First he order us to go, then he tell us stay, then go, then stay."
"Well, it did seem wise to send Robert to a safer place when General Bragg's men moved out of the city last week."
"It beats me why all them soldiers stay here since summer, eating all the food hereabouts and clutterin’ up the streets, and when the Yankees come, they run like cowards."
