Julia didn't, either, nor could she possibly imagine it turning into one. Charles's visit was purely a polite social call. There was no need to speculate of anything further.
It is simply good manners, she told herself.
Yet as the appointed hour approached, she grew increasingly nervous. She changed her dress twice.
How long has it been since I have entertained a gentleman caller in the parlor? I hope I will remember the proper etiquette.
She hoped her father would, as well. He had been used to Samuel for so long that he had become accustomed to burying his nose in whatever he was studying then periodically reading its contents aloud for all to hear.
That is all fine and good in relaxed informality but not for a new guest, especially one with such high station as Charles Moffit.
Her fingers trembled as she tried to fasten the pins in her hair. Finally satisfied with the braided bun, she cast one last glance in the looking glass, then went downstairs. It was half past six, so she fluffed the parlor pillows while her mother placed finger sandwiches and glazed tea cakes on a tray in the center of the room. At fifteen till, she put the water on to boil. Ten minutes later, Julia was fidgeting with her gold earbobs while she waited for the doorbell to ring.
Charles Moffit arrived precisely at seven and her father showed him to the parlor.
"Miss Stanton," Charles said with a pleasant smile. "You look lovely this evening."
He kissed her hand and Julia's nervousness now mingled with intrigue. The man was handsome, undeniably so. Any woman would testify to that.
"How very kind of you, Mr. Moffit."
He stood tall and smiled, his sandy-colored hair impeccably in place. "I brought you a gift."
The intrigue was growing. He presented her a hat-size box wrapped in pink paper and tied with white ribbon. The packaging alone was beautiful.
"Oh," Julia said, trying to mask her eagerness with proper decorum. "How thoughtful of you. Won't you sit down?"
Charles nodded pleasantly and sat down on the sofa. Julia moved to a chair beside the tea table while her mother and father claimed positions on the opposite side of the parlor.
"Have you had a pleasant stay here in Baltimore?" Dr. Stanton asked his guest.
"Yes, indeed," Charles answered. "I would like to stay longer but I am afraid that my plantation won't allow it."
"I see," Dr. Stanton said.
By now Julia had unwrapped the paper. Inside the box were twelve perfectly formed, deliciously yellow lemons. "Oh," she gasped, breathing in the citrusy scent. "Mother, look."
She held out the package. Esther was just as delighted. Fresh fruit was always a welcomed gift.
"You are very kind, Mr. Moffit," she said.
"Yes," Julia added. "Thank you."
Charles smiled rather proudly. "They are from our winter conservatory."
"You have an orangery?"
"Yes," he said, still smiling at her. "Rather large, actually."
Julia was impressed. While a few families she knew had small greenhouses, no one had an entire conservatory.
Imagine, she thought, fresh fruit all winter. You could pick whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted it.
"My mother adores lemons," Charles said. "Why, last year, we had lemon trees lining the main staircase for our New Year's Eve ball."
"Is that so?"
"Indeed."
Julia listened with great interest as he told of a gala which made his cousin Dolly's debut pale in comparison.
Plantation owners of southern Maryland as well as statesmen dined, danced and ushered in 1861 with affluence and elegance. The Governor of Maryland and his wife had attended along with the first family of Virginia and several Federal congressmen. One could speculate that Charles Moffit's wealth carried great influence in Annapolis and beyond.
It is not a wealthy profession but it is an honorable one. Samuel's words concerning his teaching ambitions suddenly passed through her mind.
As Charles continued to talk of tobacco holdings and the price of cotton, Julia couldn't help but remember all the evenings spent in this same room with Samuel. Never once was money a subject of discussion. Although her former fiancé was of modest means he was unfailingly generous to everyone they knew.
I would not be surprised if he personally paid for the expenses of that runaway slave.
Her thoughts unnerved her. Here she was visiting with a gentleman and yet she was thinking of Samuel. And thinking of runaways nonetheless! Why, if Charles Moffit knew what I, what my father has been involved in'¦
She could feel the blood draining from her face as a cold wave of fear washed over her. Her father noticed immediately.
"Are you all right, child? You look rather pale."
"It is warm in here," her mother noted. The curtains hung straight and stiff with no breeze to sway them.
Heat now danced across her face. "Yes," Julia said. "I am fine." She tried to hide what she was feeling, doing her best to put on a cheerful face. She opened her fan.
Her father was not convinced. "Do you have a headache?"
"No," she said. "I am fine." The meager breeze generated from her fan was not helping. Julia thought of fanning rapidly but feared it would only draw further attention. Her cheeks were tingling.
Charles was staring at her.
"Your father is right," he said. "You do look pale. Perhaps I should go. I fear I have bored you enough already."
"Of course not," Julia said. She chuckled pleasantly though it was not without effort. Her fears told her that he was leaving because he knew of the abolitionist bent of the household and he planned to report them to the proper authorities.
"I have enjoyed your visit."
Charles smiled. "I have, as well."
From the corner of her eye she saw her father rise to his feet, an unspoken indication that the evening should indeed end.
Julia stood. So did Charles. He thanked her parents for their hospitality.
"I do hope that the next time you are in Annapolis you will pay me a visit."
"Thank you," Dr. Stanton said. "Please give our regards to your family."
"I will be happy to do so."
Julia walked with Charles to the foyer. She thanked him again for the lemons.
"They will make a wonderful supply of lemonade," she said.
He smiled at her, a look that told her reporting her family was the last thing on his mind. Her nervousness eased somewhat.
"I hope you will enjoy them and I do hope you feel better."
"Thank you."
He shifted his topper from one hand to another. "Perhaps I am bold in asking this so soon," he said, "but may I have your permission to write?"
Julia was completely surprised. Charles was making his intentions known and they went far beyond polite social calls. Part of her was delighted by the request. The other part was downright scared.
"I shall have to consider that," she said guardedly.
He smiled once more. "I would appreciate it if you would."
He had apparently taken her answer as a challenge and looked as though he would enjoy such a thing. He placed his hat on his head.
"Good night, then," he said.
"Good night."
Julia shut the door behind him, her face still afire from the evening's conversation. Gracious sakes! What am I to do now?
Chapter Thirteen
"He asked for permission to write you?"
Sally's eyes were wide with surprise as Julia detailed the previous evening's social call while they visited in the kitchen. The beautiful lemons lay s
cattered across the table.
"Yes," Julia said. "He is returning to Annapolis tomorrow or perhaps the following day. I don't remember exactly."
"What did you say to him?"
"I told him that I would consider it."
"You aren't serious about that, are you?"
Julia laid aside the lemon she was slicing and looked at Sally. There was no question where her friend stood on this issue. Sally still held hope that Samuel would win out, apparently as strongly as she prayed Edward would return from the war to claim her.
"Sally, I told you before. It isn't going to work with me and Samuel."
Her face showed her disappointment. "I know but I had hoped you would change your mind. He is a good man, Julia."
"No. He is a dangerous one."
"What?"
Julia immediately regretted the comment. It would lead to questions she could not or promised she would not explain. "Just forget I said that."
Sally stared at Julia for a few seconds, her silence an invitation to further explain. Her confused expression then shifted to a knowing one.
"He has joined the abolitionists, hasn't he?"
Julia looked at her but still said nothing.
"I knew there was something that you weren't telling me. I could see it in your eyes every time his name came up."
"I am sorry. It isn't as though I am intentionally keeping something from you. I would tell you if I could but'"
"Say no more. If you are bound by a confidence then I understand."
Julia sighed. "Thank you." She went back to the lemons.
"Let me ask you this, though. How difficult is it going to be guarding one man's secrets while corresponding with another?"
Gracious. She laid aside her knife. If Sally doesn't have the gift of coming right to the point then I don't know who does. Julia had considered that very same argument herself, which was the exact reason she had not given Charles Moffit permission to write when he asked her.
There was already a risk to her family because of Edward's enlistment. Every day Baltimore's leadership moved closer to the ranks of Federal support, at least in name. If the measures continued, entire neighborhoods, including her own, could be rounded up and charged with treason.
Then there was Samuel, who held to the Union but decided which laws he would and would not obey. She could add her father to that list, as well, now and if I were to add a slave-holding planter with powerful friends into the mix'¦
Julia shuddered.
"I am not certain I intend on corresponding with him," she told Sally. "At least not at this point."
"You don't like him?" Sally said. The hopeful tone in her voice was quite obvious.
Julia had to be completely honest. "In some ways I do."
"Well," Sally conceded. "I can understand that. He is handsome, at least when compared to Mr. Meriwether."
"At least we agree on that."
They both laughed.
"In all seriousness, though," Sally then said. "I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't be happy with a man like that."
"You say that because you are still voting for Samuel."
Sally grinned. "Call me a fool."
"Or the friend of one," Julia quipped. She tossed the lemons into a pot of hot water then reached for a cone of sugar. "Will you continue to serve at the bread table?"
"Do you mind?"
"Of course not. I only want you to be safe."
"I don't leave the churchyard," Sally promised, "and neither does your mother."
Julia breathed deeply. She then asked what she desperately longed to know. "Have you seen Elijah and Elisha?"
"From a distance. Sam still takes them a slice of bread each afternoon."
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth but Julia kept it from showing. "Have there been any more soldiers?"
"None whatsoever."
Oh Lord, thank You, Julia prayed. Please let it continue this way. Please keep Elijah and Elisha safe. Watch over us all.
"
By that evening Julia was seated in her father's study with her needles clicking. Her mother was playing hymns on the piano in the parlor and her father was reading one of his medical journals. About eight or so a knock sounded at the front door. Julia glanced up as her father went to answer it. She continued with her yarn.
I wonder just how many pairs of socks we have finished. I shall have to ask the girls.
Men's voices caught her attention. They were unfamiliar and harsh. She put down her knitting and peeked into the foyer. She couldn't see who her father was speaking to but she could tell by his tone that he was clearly agitated.
"What on earth for?" she heard him ask.
Who is at the door?
Curiosity got the better of her and she stepped into the foyer. To her horror there were four Federal soldiers standing on her doorstep. Each was carrying a weapon. One of them, a young corporal, was holding a pair of handcuffs.
Just then, her mother walked in from the parlor. "Thomas, what is it?" Her face drained of all color as soon as she saw the men in blue.
"It is all right, Esther," her husband said. "There has been a misunderstanding, that's all."
He looked back at the corporal. "And what are you charging me with?"
"With all due respect, sir, I do not have to present that information to you at this time."
"Oh, yes you do, young man. This is the United States of America and here we have such a thing as habeas corpus."
"Sir, the writ of habeas corpus has been suspended within the state of Maryland."
"What?"
"Now if you'll come with me'¦"
Julia was lost on the legal formalities but she knew wrong when she saw it. The men were arresting her father without formal charges. A mixture of shock and rage emboldened her. "Father, no! Don't go with them. They can't do this! It's wrong!"
The corporal puffed out his chest like a redheaded rooster. "Sir, I advise you to come peacefully."
Dr. Stanton turned to look at his daughter. "Stay where you are." He laid his hands behind his back. The corporal immediately snapped on the cuffs.
Anger gave way to fear. "No!" Julia and her mother screamed at the same time.
Her thoughts flew as fast as her heart. They know about the runaway slave. That is why they are arresting him!
She was unable to move but her mother ran toward her father. She threw her arms around him. "Thomas! Thomas!"
"It is all right, Esther," he said calmly. "This is just a misunderstanding. I will be home soon. Don't worry."
Julia watched in horror as one of the soldiers tore her mother away from him. The remaining men in blue led her father down the front steps. Knees shaking, heart quaking, Julia moved to the doorway. Neighbors were peering from their windows to see what was going on.
Do something! she wanted to scream. Where are all your guns now? Where is all your talk of honor?
A black carriage was waiting on the street. Two more soldiers stood sentry with the horses. Julia stared at them. Her eyesight was getting fuzzy. She feared she was going to faint so she steadied herself against the door frame.
Her father called back over his shoulder. "Find Mr. Davis. Tell him what has happened. He will straighten things out."
William Davis was Emily's father. He was a lawyer. Julia promised she would find him. "We'll go straightaway."
By now her mother was in tears. She, too, stood in the doorway, calling out to the corporal. "Where are you taking h
im?"
The man at least had the decency to answer. "All political prisoners are held at Fort McHenry until further notice."
The soldiers opened the carriage door. They forced Thomas Stanton inside. He stuck his head back out at the last second. "I will be home soon," he promised.
The corporal shut the carriage door. The horses scurried off at command, leaving Julia and her mother alone on the front porch.
"Lord, help us," Esther said.
Lost in disbelief, Julia raked her fingers through her hair. She stood there for several seconds, staring after the carriage until her mother brought her to her senses.
"Go find Lewis!" she said. "Ask him to find Mr. Davis."
"Yes, of course!"
Julia ran to the stable. "Lewis! Lewis!" Where is he? "Lewis! It's important!"
Lewis was nowhere to be found. The carriage and mare were both gone.
Her mind was racing, her hands trembling. Did he get scared? Did he run off when he saw the soldiers? Will he come back?
She knew she couldn't waste time wondering. She had to find another way. Immediately she thought of Samuel. Her pride slammed the door on that idea.
No. I won't go to him. This is all his fault. If he hadn't involved us in his scheme, none of this would be happening.
She ran back to the house. Her mother was standing in the foyer, a lost look on her face.
"Lewis isn't in the stable," Julia told her.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know!" She grabbed her shawl from the peg rack and threw it around her shoulders. "I'll fetch Mr. Davis."
Her mother shook her head. "It is getting dark and it isn't safe to be out on the streets come nightfall."
Especially not with all the soldiers, Julia thought. A wave of nausea rolled through her. Fear or not, she knew she had to go. She had promised her father that she would.
"I will be back as quickly as I can. If Lewis comes back, ask him to find me."
Her Rebel Heart Page 16
