“The hotel, Dobie. Go to the hotel. There will be officers there. Maybe they know what happened. And hurry. I…” Elizabeth couldn’t put her fear into words, and Dobie, thankfully, didn’t wait.
Chapter Seventeen
An exhausted Dobie returned midmorning. He shook his head at Elizabeth’s questions. “Nothing,” he said in a flat voice. “No one saw her, and I couldn’t find out where she had gotten the news.”
Elizabeth offered him a cup of coffee and some of the leftovers that Rutha had packed for them. Dobie ate, and Elizabeth paced.
“Dobie, I need to go to work. It’s not only that I worry about keeping my job, but perhaps there I could find out some news. Would you watch Nicole?”
“I reckon I can.”
An idea began to form, but she wasn’t ready to share it with him. “I may be late returning this afternoon. I have someone to see who may be able to help us find out what happened to Naomi.”
At work, after she made her late excuse and was docked the time, Elizabeth learned that the smallpox was worse. To her disappointment, Jenna was not there, nor did she appear.
She smiled with those women who had been reunited with family members and commiserated with those who had not.
When Mrs. Marstand came to collect her finished stack of signed notes the first time, Elizabeth paid no attention to her recounting them again before she moved away. But the second time it happened, she questioned her about what was wrong.
“Over a hundred notes were discovered missing on Christmas Eve. With everyone in a rush to get to their families, only a few of us stayed to make a final count.”
“But surely you don’t believe—”
“I have my instructions, Elizabeth, and no one is above suspicion. The stolen notes could be used to create forgeries, weakening our Treasury. The theft could also be by someone who was in desperate need and wanted to make the holiday an occasion of joy. I do not know.”
But Elizabeth noticed that the woman glared more than once at Jenna’s empty chair. It firmed her decision to visit the hotel where Jenna had a room. After all, the woman could be ill. But she knew that was a flimsy excuse.
The streets were crowded, and on corners anger rode in men’s and women’s voices as they damned Lincoln’s coming proclamation to free the slaves. News spread quickly that a parade would be held in celebration for the Negroes in Yankee-held Norfolk. And as she hurried along, she heard the pride rise in voices that shouted what President Davis’s answer would be: hang any Yankee officer captured as high as John Brown, and in the next battle, an order for no prisoners to be taken.
There were arguments about whether England and France would take the South’s side, rumors that the North was ready to sue for peace. But others discounted this gossip, stating that the Northern armies were still in Virginia, near Suffolk, where they marched toward Petersburg but turned back when a spy who declared they could take the city was not believed. The Yankees were still camped opposite Fredericksburg, and even as some mentioned a great victory in Tennessee that General Bragg had won, others countered that, as usual, it would lead to nothing.
And Elizabeth wondered where Colter was.
By the time she reached the hotel, Elizabeth was aching, for the bitter cold of winter was making itself felt. The lobby was warm and filled with a milling group of men and women. She had to wait her turn to question the harried desk clerk.
“Mrs. Hugh Morgan, could you tell me if she is in her room?” Elizabeth clasped her reticule tight as he turned to survey the rows of neatly numbered boxes behind him.
“Sorry, ma’am, her key is here.”
“May I wait in—”
“You’re welcome,” he rudely cut her off, turning to the next gentleman in line. “May I help you, sir?”
About to demand his attention, Elizabeth changed her mind. She found a place in the far corner where she could watch the comings and goings of people through the lobby doors and listened to snatches of conversations that reflected much of the talk she had heard on the way here. When the light outside began to fade, she knew she could not wait any longer. As it was, she would need to hurry to be home before dark.
She approached the clerk again, asking for a pen and paper, intending to leave a note for Jenna. After several false starts, she crumpled the paper and left.
By the time she arrived home she was dispirited, but Dobie offered a bit of hope when he announced that he would go down to the rail station again.
Nicole added prayers for Naomi to her bedtime ritual, and Elizabeth managed to tell her a story before she went to sleep.
For herself, she paced and sat and paced again, all the while thinking of what Mrs. Marstand had told her. She knew that Jenna was the thief, but Elizabeth hated to make the accusation. Once again, she thought of Colter and his friendship for Hugh. But there was no way to rationalize the harm Jenna could do if she was forging treasury notes.
Elizabeth had thought often of turning back time; now, she only wished she had told Colter of her suspicions regarding Jenna.
By the time a discouraged Dobie returned, it was long past midnight. He sought his bed, as she did hers, each hoping that tomorrow would bring word about Naomi.
Jenna’s place remained empty, and when Elizabeth noted that yet another woman’s chair was unfilled as the day wore on, she was told the woman’s son was injured in a fight that had broken out between soldiers and those they called “bombproofs.” The son was one of many young men who filled Richmond, kept out of the war by influence or purchase of a detail. They had earned the contempt of many. With reports of winter snows blanketing the hills of Virginia, tempers were hot. Their soldiers were ill clad to bear the cold.
As she worked, enduring the repeat of yesterday’s recounting of notes by Mrs. Marstand, Elizabeth’s thoughts strayed from concern over Naomi to worry about Colter. She touched her earrings, renewing her faith that he would be safe and warm somewhere and assured that she thought constantly of him.
Before she left work, Elizabeth asked Mrs. Marstand if she had word from Jenna.
“No. I believe she mentioned visiting a friend’s family for the holiday, but I cannot recall if she mentioned where.”
Far from reassured, Elizabeth once again visited the hotel. When informed that Jenna’s key was still in her box, she demanded that the clerk accompany her to Jenna’s room, expressing her fear that she might be ill and no one aware of it.
With less than gracious manner, he led the way.
Elizabeth tapped her foot impatiently while he knocked repeatedly, but when he moved from the door without attempting to open it, she grabbed the key from his hand.
“Ma’am, I cannot allow—”
“If Mrs. Morgan is ill and in bed, your presence will be most improper. Mine will not.”
The room was small and the light dim. Elizabeth barely glanced at the unmade bed. She opened the wardrobe and was surprised to see that Jenna’s clothes filled it. A quick check of the bureau drawers showed them to contain all that was proper. It was obvious that Elizabeth had been wrong in her belief that Jenna had left the city and did not intend to return.
The clerk’s impatience allowed her no more time, and reluctantly Elizabeth returned the key and watched him lock the door.
That night followed a repeat of the last, with Dobie returning after midnight again without a clue to where Naomi had gone.
New Year’s Day they rode out together to visit with Emily, where Elizabeth explained all that had happened and confessed her suspicions about Jenna.
“I can understand your desire to protect Colter and Hugh, Elizabeth,” Emily said when she was done, “but in this case, you might consider your own association with her. I know you are guiltless, but would this Mrs. Marstand believe that?”
“Why wouldn’t she? I’ve never given anyone cause to think I…” Elizabeth stopped herself and remembered the first week of Jenna’s working with her. How many times had she covered up the mistakes Jenna made? Didn�
��t she know of Jenna’s disposing of ruined notes? If they ever were ruined.
“Yes, my dear, I believe your thoughts are following mine.”
“Emily, what am I going to do? Without Jenna I cannot prove my innocence.”
“Perhaps adopting a wait-and-see position would be best for now. When Jenna returns, and by indication of her belongings in the hotel room she must, you should consider a direct confrontation. My dear, no one need know the outcome but yourself. And by then you may feel ready to make a decision.”
As far as a temporary solution went, Elizabeth knew she had no alternative.
The days of early January dragged for her. The winter was bitter with rain and cold, and Nicole, house-bound, had nearly driven Dobie to the end of his patience. Elizabeth missed the warm companionship of Naomi, needed Colter and faced each day as if it were the one that would snap her own temper.
General Lee came to the city, and once again the Yankees, under General Burnside, began to stir in their camps across the river.
Elizabeth did not bother to listen to the rumors that there was a falling out between the Confederate generals Longstreet and Jackson. She feared the news that followed a few days later of the Yankees trying to move down river. There were more than sighs of relief when it was learned that the wagons and guns the Yankees attempted to move had mired in the mud.
And still no word came from Colter.
Nor did Jenna return.
The house remained empty of Naomi’s warm presence. As if her nerves were not strung tight enough, Elizabeth faced yet another blow. Dobie had been ordered to return to active duty.
“It’s my own fault. All this questioning about Naomi brought the wrong kind of attention to me. I’ve been ordered to help the construction of more defensive positions outside the city.”
Elizabeth merely nodded and listened to his brief explanation of how Colter had rescued him from serving time in a guardhouse. And while he regretted having to leave her before the colonel returned and made other arrangements, he was a soldier who had to follow orders.
“When do you report, Dobie?”
“Tomorrow. But if it’s any help, I won’t go until you return from work.”
“Won’t that cause trouble for you?”
“No, ma’am. And it will give you time to tell them at work. Maybe then we’ll have heard from Naomi.”
Elizabeth no longer held on to that hope, but Dobie didn’t deserve to carry her burden. “You mustn’t worry about us. I’ll return to Emily’s.”
“Now, you know the colonel—”
“Dobie,” she interrupted, “as you mentioned, the colonel isn’t here. I cannot support myself and my child unless I work. We’ll be safe. I know we will.”
Elizabeth packed their belongings that night. Dobie promised to get a message to Josh to bring the wagon for them.
Elizabeth had one last chore to do. She sat down to pen two notes to Colter. But as she began to write, her fear and yearning to see him became an emotional outpouring that quickly covered several sheets of paper. When she was done, her hand was trembling, her fingers curled stiff around the steel pen, and she had nearly used up her ink supply.
Without reading it over, she tore the sheets into bits and began again, this time ordering her thoughts to be brief.
My dearest Colter, the extent of Andre’s wounds are not known, but Naomi has gone somewhere to fetch him. I have returned to Emily, since Dobie is recalled to duty and I have had no word from Naomi. We have missed you.
There was temptation to add more, but in the end she merely signed her name.
She copied this onto a fresh sheet, folded them both and set one on the mantel in the drawing room, the other in her reticule to be delivered to his hotel room.
Morning came far too quickly, but she stole a bit of Nicole’s excitement that they were going back to Miss Emily to carry her through the day.
Before she began to work, Elizabeth secured permission to leave early, thankful that Mrs. Marstand appeared far too distracted to question her. But she didn’t forget to remind her that she would forfeit her pay.
Elizabeth worked quickly and quietly, constantly watching the slow crawling hands of the clock. Now that she had made her decision, she was anxious to have it done.
The cold bit through her cloak as she began her walk. Broadsides littered the streets, and while waiting for a lumbering wagon to pass so she could cross the street, she glanced down to read the glaring black headline proclaiming Freedom to Slaves! Across another, someone had scrawled Never! Elizabeth shivered more from the sentiment than the cold. Her family had not owned slaves; their small shipping concern had offered a comfortable support for all of them. After her father’s death, her half-brothers had taken over the three cargo ships. One had been lost at sea, taking her brother’s life, the other she believed had been confiscated by the Union forces, and the fate of the third had never been revealed to her.
Once again a series of shivers attacked her. Alma had seen to the disposition of the third ship, just as she had stepped in to sell their home. Caught by grief and forced to make hurried decisions, Elizabeth had never once questioned Alma after she agreed to marry James.
She walked around the outskirts of Capitol Square, where gentlemen were gathered in groups discussing the latest news from General Lee. Flour now being sold for almost seventy dollars. Voices rose in protest over scandalously high prices. Yet another group spoke loudly about the chance for profit in blockading or speculating in tobacco; one man bragged of his earning fifteen thousand dollars by margining a purchase of five thousand pounds.
Elizabeth took all this in but kept herself removed from the news.
Heated arguments erupted over President Davis’s desire to be given the same powers that Lincoln had. He wanted the courts to grant him the right to suspend the writ of habeas corpus. But if the men who shouted about states’ rights had their way, she knew he would never be granted this or any other power that could centralize his government.
With all this talk it surprised her to see women with their wide skirts taking a leisurely promenade, or little children being cared for by their nurses. Elizabeth continued on her way, avoiding the residential streets that had white banners flying to show there was smallpox.
When she finally reached the hotel, she straightened her shoulders, lifted her head high and stepped inside. She was thankful the lobby was empty, for she had not forgotten the curious looks she received as an unescorted woman. The clerk behind the counter was not the same man who had been there previously. When she approached him he was busy reading The Richmond Dispatch.
“I would like to leave a message for Colonel Saxton.”
He held out his hand without glancing up from his paper.
“No, I do not wish this to be left in his box. I want his room number,” Elizabeth explained.
“You and everyone else,” he muttered in a bored voice. “Third floor, left hall, corner room.”
Elizabeth puzzled over his remark. Who else had asked for Colter? She couldn’t question him, but thought, strangely, of Jenna. “Is Mrs. Hugh Morgan’s key still in her box?”
Annoyance marked his face as he closed the paper, a finger holding his place, to glance behind him. “Gone.”
“Thank you.” The words were sharp and curt, but she doubted that he heard her, for he was already engrossed in his reading as she headed for the stairs.
There was no one about but a maid on the third floor. Elizabeth saw the woman stop to watch her as she made her way down the hall to Colter’s room.
She ignored her own embarrassment at what the woman likely thought. She knew she was not keeping an assignation. She took the folded note from her reticule and bent to slip it under the door. From inside, she heard the sound of a drawer close.
She froze for a moment, glancing back down the hall, but the maid was gone. Slowly she straightened, her breath trapped inside for a second then rushing out just as her heartbeat increased.
&
nbsp; Had Colter returned? Was he inside the room?
She did not understand the sudden caution that beset her. Instead of calling out or knocking, she reached for the doorknob and turned it, lifting the inside latch. The tiny sound was loud to her ears and she knew, although she had yet to open the door, that whoever was inside was not Colter. All movement had ceased.
Thievery was not unheard of, and Colter had been away for weeks. She summoned enough courage to partially open the door.
The heavy draperies had been drawn tight across the windows, leaving the room in darkness. But the scent of a recently snuffed candle wafted out on a draft of air to her. She took a step through the doorway and stopped, allowing her vision time to adjust to the dark. A four-poster bed without a canopy took up the far wall. The vague outline of a large wardrobe against the wall to her right caught her attention for a moment. The doors were closed, but she eyed it suspiciously, thinking it would make an excellent hiding place, being one of Nicole’s favorites when they played.
Elizabeth pushed the door to the room open slowly until it met the wall behind it. She sighed softly, thankful no one was hiding behind it to jump out at her. She took two small steps into the room and slowly made a turn, seeing a bureau and a writing desk, which was set between the windows. One of the drawers was partially opened.
Caution thrown aside, she went to the desk and opened the drawer. Someone had been searching. The papers were shoved in a haphazard manner that Colter, she knew as well as she knew herself, would never allow. Even the top of the desk was littered with post, some of it opened.
Anger replaced fear. Colter’s mail should have been held in his box until he returned to claim it.
The thought of her own emotional outpouring, had she not torn it up and rewritten it, being read by a stranger brought a churn of nausea. With shaking fingers, she reached for the drapery behind the desk and yanked it open. Gray light filtered into the room.
The soft click of the latch closing behind her made her spin around.
A Corner of Heaven Page 19
