Rebel (39 page)

“Stephens argued eloquently against secession,” Ian responded to Mrs. Sanders. “But Stephens is a Georgian.
Apparently he felt obliged to follow his state despite the fact that the vote went against him.”

“Tell me,” Alaina interjected, “which of the Southern states have seceded so far? I’m afraid that I have been so very isolated in the last few weeks!”

“Well, now, you couldn’t have missed South Carolina’s secession!” Jill exclaimed, shaking her head. “Those rabble rousers! Then, hmmm, Mississippi, your own Florida, dear, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana—and Texas! Yes, that’s it—and in the right order. Isn’t it, Ian?”

Alaina felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at Mrs. Sanders, then at Ian. His expression was impassive; there was an edge to his eyes, a cold glitter as he returned her stare. Yes, he had known all this. No, he hadn’t felt it necessary to inform her. She started to move away from him, but a waltz was playing, and before she could protest he excused them and had her out on the floor among the other couples dancing. She stiffened in his arms, staring at him with hot contempt.

“Do I have this correctly? The state of Florida has seceded, and you have done nothing?
Nothing?
”

His cool blue eyes assessed her in turn. “My dear, you do have it correctly. The state of Florida has seceded— and I have done nothing—
nothing.
”

She inhaled sharply. “But Ian—”

“You’ve long known my opinion of secession,” he said curtly, cutting her off.

“But—but what is your intent?” she demanded.

“I have no particular intent at the moment,” he said. It disturbed him—and irritated him—that her anger brought such a flush to her cheeks and such fire to her eyes. More than ever, he wanted to hold her. Drag her against him, tell her that they did not have the force to prevent the winds of war that were beginning to blow.

But she was shaking in his arms. Shaking, because she wouldn’t tolerate his words.

Or his ideals.

“I don’t wish to dance with you,” she said icily.

“What a pity.”

“Ian, let me go,” she told him.

“Alaina—”

She was surely going insane, she thought, because she didn’t want him to let her go. She wanted him to hold
her, and tell her that yes, this was all horrible, it was breaking his heart. But Florida, his state, had seceded, and he was going to be loyal to his state, he was going to resign. And they would go home. To Florida. To the Confederate States of America.

But he wasn’t going to say that.

“You’re a traitor, Ian!” she cried. “A traitor to your state, to your own people.”

“Alaina, stop.”

“No, I can’t stop! Let me go. I don’t want you touching me. Ever.”

“You’re my wife, Alaina—”

She shook her head. “I want to go home!”

“Alaina, you can’t—”

“I’ve got to go. I
am
going home!” she informed him.

He tightened his arms around her. “If you ever walk away from me and humiliate me in public due to your views, I will drag you right back. And if you decide to leave me, my love, you leave your son. If you think you can kidnap him and run to the swamp and hide, remember that I know your state far better than you ever will. If you think you’re going to take my child, be aware that I’ll hunt you down wherever you go, and in the end, I will win. You married me, Alaina. For better or worse. You’re my wife, and I will never allow you to forget that fact.”

She had never heard him speak so coldly. Nor with greater warning and conviction.

“How can you turn your back on your state, your own home?” she demanded furiously.

“I’m not turning my back on Florida; it will always be my home. But I am against secession. There will be war, and it won’t be over in ninety days, though eventually it will end and the North will be victorious, and the hard path will be to see the state back into prosperity when the bleeding is over.”

She shook her head, staring at him as if he had quite clearly lost his mind.

“I won’t walk away from you, but Ian, let go of me! In my eyes, you are a traitor. Don’t touch me!”

He released her then so suddenly that she nearly stumbled back from him.

“They called you a Yankee in South Carolina,” she
reminded him suddenly. “An enemy. That’s what you are. A
Yankee!”
she hissed. “You’re a Yankee, and your wretched army did nothing about my father’s murder.”

“Your father died by accident.”

“Negligence.”

“Be that as it may—”

“You’re a part of their horrid bureaucracy.”

“You’re refusing to see, Alaina—”

“I refuse a Yankee!”

“Ah. But you’re married to a Yankee,” he said politely. Then he bowed briefly to her, turned, and walked away, pausing to smile as someone stopped and spoke to him, answering another man, laughing with a friend. Mrs. Greenhow tapped him on the shoulder and he turned, flashing his handsome smile to her as well, then drawing her out to the dance floor.

Alaina turned in dismay, feeling almost blinded as she blinked back tears of confusion and frustration. She tried to make her way to the door; she had wanted to come here so badly tonight. Now she wanted only to escape.

She wasn’t allowed to walk away from him, but he had managed to walk away quite easily from her.

She tried to escape, but people stopped to speak with her, congratulating her, asking her about Sean. They were kind; they were pleasant, worried that she was warm enough here in the Capital in such wicked winter weather. She smiled; she had to be as easy and nonchalant as her husband.

She made it to the door at last. A maid brought her coat, and she convinced the free black man Ian had hired as their driver to take her home; she was afraid the baby might need her.

That much was true. Her breasts were full, aching, sore. She hoped that Sean was hungry.

When she came in, she could hear Sean fussing, and she hurried upstairs to the bedroom, trying not to let Lilly see the misery in her face. But Lilly shook her head,
tsking
out a warning even as Alaina reached for the baby, taking him into her arms and quickly loosening her gown so that the baby could nurse.

“You’re upset, you’ll upset the little one as well.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I won’t upset the baby.”

Lilly sniffed. “You’re in a tempest—you’ll make sour milk.”

“Oh, Lilly, please.”

“Now, you knew that it would happen, that Florida would secede. It has happened. What goes on in the world isn’t your concern. You’re a married woman. You support your man.”

“He’s a blind man!” Alaina hissed.

Sean began to cry. Lilly was right; she was upsetting the baby. She had to calm down.

“Shhh, shhh!” she whispered, rocking back and forth with Sean. She laid him down on her bed, struggling to get her clothing off. “Lilly, please. Just help me get out of this and into a nightgown—the beige one with the buttons down the front.”

Lilly sniffed and helped her.

“Thanks,” she told Lilly. “I’m fine now—I—I’d like to be alone with him.”

“You remember what I say,” Lilly warned.

Alaina wanted to remind Lilly that she was a servant, except that of course she was much more, and Alaina didn’t particularly want to make an enemy out of Lilly. Lying next to Sean, she closed her eyes, wishing she could find some rest from the misery that plagued her. But there was just so much she could endure! The United States army hadn’t done a thing yet to chastise the men who had killed her father. She couldn’t possibly support that same army now when her home state had decided that Florida would have no more of it!

She lay awake, nervously looking toward the door, wondering if Ian would come barging in, furious that she had left him at a party she had insisted that they attend.

But Ian didn’t come to her room.

She heard him come home about midnight.

And she heard him ride out again less than an hour later.

And she lay in tortured silence then, remembering that she had commanded that he not touch her.

And she knew that there were those who did not mind his touch at all.

A
braham Lincoln was sworn in as president of the United States of America on March 4, 1861.

Ian wasn’t in the city for the inauguration.

Alaina didn’t see him after she left Rose Greenhow’s party; Lilly told her later that she had still been sleeping when he had come up in the morning, spent time with Sean, and then departed. He had left her a note; he had gone “to fulfill my orders,” and he assumed he’d be back within a month. She wondered if he had asked for orders that would send him away.

She wondered if he had decided he really didn’t want a wife after all.

But he did want his child.

She considered leaving Washington herself, making arrangements to travel home. But he had said that he would come after her. And she knew that he would. He might not want her, but he did want Sean.

And so, for the time, she waited. And watched. And read the newspapers, and the various letters she received from Ian’s family.

By the middle of March, the Confederate states had taken over most of the military bases and strongholds within their borders. Fort Sumter, in Charleston Harbor, remained in Union hands, as did Fort Pickens, and the forts at Key West and the Dry Tortugas. Alaina wondered if Ian had been sent to Fort Taylor at Key West, a place where he had often been based in better times. He had left her no information at all, which he had surely seen as for the best, but which made her believe that he was already involved in military operations against his own homeland.

So she waited, watching, as forces brought the North and South swiftly toward war. General Beauregard—late
of the United States army and a Mexican War hero— had fortified Charleston Harbor. At Fort Sumter, Major Anderson pleaded for reinforcements to keep his men in rations as he awaited further orders. Every day, he faced the armaments Beauregard had amassed on the harbor.

In the midst of all this, Alaina was glad to know that though Ian was not in Washington, Risa Magee was.

As was Mrs. Greenhow. Alaina found herself invited to luncheons and teas at the woman’s house, and she was glad to go. Mrs. Greenhow was fascinating. So were the people who came her way. And in her household, men talked excitedly about the preparations for war. Men talked about troops and brigades, and the numbers and expertise of certain men as sharpshooters, engineers, and more. Mrs. Greenhow never appeared bored at their talk of warfare. She raptly listened to all they had to say.

It was strange, for Alaina knew Mrs. Greenhow remained in deep pain for her daughter Gertrude. She had two older married daughters, and a little namesake Rose, who lived with her now, and was the delight of her life. Rose Greenhow seemed to appreciate the good friends and family who supported her against her loss. She showed Alaina her daughter’s room one day; Rose had not changed a thing since the day her daughter had died. She handled her grief very well, fighting it with living. Alaina admired her very much and felt her love for Sean Michael grow ever fiercer. She learned that though it had been agony to lose her father, there would be no pain on earth like that of losing a child.

The days passed.

Ian’s cousin Sydney wrote her that the situation in Charleston was growing extremely grave and that it seemed something would happen very soon. She was anxious to go home to Florida and begged Alaina to keep her informed of all the news from the Capital of the old U.S..

Alaina also received a letter from Jen—written under circumstances that greatly aggravated Alaina, for she discovered that Ian had been to her home in the
Confederacy
while she had been left behind in Washington. “How odd!” Jen wrote.

The letter had been written several weeks before Alaina received it, which left her feeling more frustrated than ever. She didn’t want to be here. Her heart was in the South. She longed to see Belamar again, to run on the beach. Spring was coming to D.C., but not quickly enough for Alaina. She belonged in the Far South.

While the nation crumbled, Sean thrived. Alaina delighted in him, and learned to maintain her sanity in
Washington—all the while growing increasingly furious with her husband’s absence. She was restless, brooding over the newspapers, wondering where Ian was—and what would happen. Thank God for Rose—and even Risa, whom she saw occasionally at Rose’s home. Risa had a gift for matter-of-factness, and whatever resentment she bore toward Alaina was open, and often tempered by her quick humor. One afternoon the two of them determined to make cookies as guests at Rose’s house. Quite accidentally, Alaina had let slip a cup of flour, and it had spilled all over Risa’s dress. Risa, in turn, had set down a bowl very heavily, and the flour naturally floated over Alaina. After that, they both picked up the flour—and let fly.