Rebel (40 page)

Rose’s kitchen was a disaster, but they were laughing uncontrollably until they both sobered at the sound of Sean suddenly waking and bellowing out in hunger. “I think your son is calling you,” Risa told her.

“Is it safe to go get him?” Alaina inquired.

“Is it safe?” Risa inquired innocently.

“Dare I turn my back, lest there be another barrage?” Alaina demanded.

Risa smiled very slowly. “You’re safe. You’re quite safe from me.” Risa dusted off her hands. “Of course, I understand there’s a widow living outside of Tampa who might not be quite so safe.”

Alaina inhaled so sharply that she breathed in a cloud of flour and began to cough. Risa pounded on her back. “Sorry—I mean, you do know her, I assume, and know about her?”

“Yes, I know her—and you were condemning
me
for being naked in a pool. Well, your dear honorable almost-fiancé was only in that pool because of the widow to whom you now refer.”

“Ah!” Risa said softly, her dark lashes sweeping her floured cheeks. Then she looked to Alaina with a shrug. “It just goes to show you that a woman behaves honorably, as she has been taught all her life—and pays for that nobility. Had I not heeded propriety, I’d probably be married to Ian now.”

“You really did love him,” Alaina said quietly.

“I really did. But I also promise you, as long as you
don’t throw your marriage away, I’m no threat to you. I’m the honorable one, remember?”

Alaina smiled, looking at Risa. “I’m not afraid of Lavinia—the widow Trehorn. She amused Ian, and nothing more.
You
are a threat to me, because he cares about you. He may still be in love with you; I don’t really know.”

Risa stared at her, hands on her hips for a long moment. “You two are married, and you have a beautiful child—with a bloodthirsty scream. Please, go attend to him!”

Alaina smiled. To her amazement, she reached for Risa and gave her a quick hug before hurrying off to clean herself up and tend to Sean. Strangely, she felt that she had found a good friend.

While Risa was decidedly pro-Union, Rose Greenhow was not. She was amazingly truthful about her sympathies for the South, while maintaining wonderfully proper but flirtatious relationships with Union officers, cabinet members, and congressmen. Alaina, who was far more quiet in her convictions, nevertheless enjoyed Rose tremendously.

Yet no matter what friendships she formed in Washington, she wondered how long she could bear to remain, because every day brought new information about the great divide splitting the country. Everywhere, militia groups formed, horses and arms were counted, the United States army began to arrive en masse in Washington, D.C. Despite Ian’s threat—or promise—that he would hunt her and the baby down if she were to leave him, she longed to find a way home—to his family, if need be. Surely, going to her in-laws could not be considered desertion! Besides which, Ian had no right to threaten her, when it was he who had left.

One evening in early April, Alaina was invited to a “casual buffet supper” at Rose Greenhow’s home, and Alaina determined to ask for her wise older friend’s advice, if not assistance. She had been surprised to discover—through Rose herself—that Rose, who was extremely friendly with many high-ranking officers and officials, was also an ardent anti-abolitionist. Rose’s father had been murdered by a black man who had risen against him when Rose was just a child.

Alaina didn’t know exactly what had happened, but Rose had been very young, and she didn’t carry reason in her breast, merely hatred. Many people hated for different reasons; she knew her own hatred for blue uniforms might not be entirely just, but it was there. She recalled a letter from Julian regarding the special legislative session in which Florida had decided on leaving the Union; apparently, one of their neighbors had proclaimed that it was a pity Harriet Beecher Stowe hadn’t died as a child—that way,
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
wouldn’t have been written, and the entire country might not be up in arms!

Rose Greenhow’s strange conflict of feelings seemed to make her all the more an interesting person, and Alaina thought that if she was able to make it back home, she was going to miss Rose. But she
was
going to escape Washington. For home. Soon.

On the night of Rose’s buffet, Alaina dressed carefully, wearing one of the new black mourning dresses she’d had made since the baby’s birth. The neckline was lower than those she had worn lately, and the bodice was laced and closed with a series of tiny buttons. Her sleeves were short, and she’d had a beautiful shawl made that fell gracefully from her arms. She felt in an exceptionally reckless mood that afternoon, and when she reached the Greenhow house, she was glad she had come. The house was filled with laughing men and women, and even if the soldiers were sounding like braggarts, they were all in a high state of excitement—everyone in the country seemed to be waiting, for what, no one was quite sure.

“Alaina! How delightful that you’ve come,” Rose told her, greeting her with kisses on both cheeks, then added in a soft whisper, “You do your husband very proud, you know. From senator to soldier, the men find you quite charming, and my lady friends are taken with you as well! Be a love, I need you to help me entertain. There’s a group of young soldiers on the porch who have just been stationed here, and they’re quite lonely, in need of sweet, feminine advice. Let me introduce you.”

Rose led Alaina out the back door where four handsome young soldiers lounged against the railing. At the ladies’ appearance they all quickly straightened. “Boys!”

Rose drawled with her delightful accent, “you are at ease here. I’ve brought you Major Ian McKenzie’s wife to meet, just in case you find yourselves riding with her husband somewhere in the future! Alaina, the boys are all recent graduates of West Point—there you have Charlie Litwin, Harold Penny, William Mony, and Nate Dillon. Gentlemen, Mrs. McKenzie.”

Alaina smiled, acknowledging them all. The men greeted her enthusiastically, caps in their hands. Charlie slicked back his hair nervously.

“Punch, ma’am? I’ll just bring you some punch,” William offered.

“Why, thank you,” Alaina said, smiling. It would have been impossible not to enjoy their attention.

William brought her punch. Harold ushered her to the porch’s largest cushioned rocker. “Well, gentlemen,” she said, lifting her punch cup. “To the future.”

“To the future!” Charlie said.

“Whatever it may be,” Harold added a little glumly.

“You sound upset, sir,” Alaina said.

“I am. I’m from Maryland, ma’am, and I’m not quite sure yet whether I’m North or South.”

“Really?”

William explained. “Harold and I are both from Maryland. Charlie and Nate are Virginians.”

“Ah.”

“Maryland isn’t going to secede. It just isn’t going to happen. Geographically, the North can’t let it happen,” Charlie said.

“But if Maryland chooses—” Alaina began.

“Ma’am, it ain’t always what we choose!” Nate said, and drew a map in the air, explaining what it took to move large groups of men, and how armies worked with cavalry, infantry, artillery, reconnaissance—and spies. Their conversation intrigued Alaina, as did the fact that they seemed so willing to tell her so much. A certain amount of flirting was natural and in order, and after her last encounter with her husband, it felt very good indeed.

“Now, Virginia, ma’am,” Nat was saying, his wheat-colored eyes bright and his manner charming, “is not a brash lady. No, ma’am. She’ll not get hot under the collar, get her dander up—lest some great fight takes place
and she is called to take up arms against her friends. No, sir, she’ll balk like a mule!”

“And if Virginia secedes, Lieutenant Dillon?” Alaina inquired. She was quite comfortable; Rose’s punch had assuredly been spiked with a bit of whiskey. The rocker moved back and forth, the breeze was pleasant. The sun was beginning to set as they talked, the moon to rise. Nate and the others leaned against the railing in a semicircle around her; it was almost as if she was holding court.

“Ma’am, I don’t know. I do love Virginia, mightily. But I know some good men who just can’t see clear to what is happening. Right now, I’m just praying that Virginia stays in the Union. But everybody is preparing for bloodshed. If old Virginia secedes, they lose some of the finest men in all the military.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, smiling at Lieutenant Dillon. Then her smile faded.

There was someone standing in the doorway to the porch, standing very still within the frame and shadowed by the coming of night. Yet she knew the stance and the build.

Ian was there.

Her heart began to tremble. She felt the strangest weakness sweeping over her.

She blinked quickly, thinking the twilight was playing tricks on her. But it was Ian, and she wondered just how long he had been standing there watching her. Listening to her conversation.

“Ian!” she gasped.

“Hello, my love,” he murmured, moving into the misty light of the early evening.

Lieutenant Dillon sprang to attention, the other young men following his lead. “Sir, Major, sir!” he said.

“Sir, Lieutenant, sirs, all of you—at ease,” Ian teased lightly in return, his smile crooked as he strode to stand behind Alaina’s chair. She tried to rise; his hands upon her shoulders kept her down, and he leaned to kiss her quickly on the cheek. She felt herself stiffen against his touch, despite the fact that her heart continued to pound wildly.

It was only the presence of others that kept her manner calm, her voice level, as she spoke to him. “What
a… surprise,” she murmured. “When did you return to Washington?”

“Quite recently.”

“And you came straight here!” she exclaimed, her tone so light that the edge to it was barely discernible. “The perfect officer and gentleman, seeking the company and enlightenment of his fellow officers even before seeing to the welfare of his own wife and son.”

“But I’ve found my wife here—how very fortunate,” Ian responded smoothly. “It’s so good to see that you haven’t pined away during my absence. It’s a relief to see you entertained by Union fighting men, and it seems you admire the Union uniform when worn by these young men. Ah, but then again, gentlemen! You must learn to take greater care in the company of Southerners! My wife is a Floridian—she could be seeking military secrets from the lot of you.”

Lieutenant Dillon, who had appeared very nervous and uncomfortable, laughed—apparently finding himself at ease at last since Major McKenzie joked with him so.

“But, sir! She’s your wife.”

“Indeed,” Ian murmured. “Well, gentlemen, I thank you for entertaining my wife, and I bid you good night. Alaina, my love, I must admit, I am weary, and ready for my home.”

Alaina longed to say that he’d been getting about on his own quite well for some time now—he was welcome to continue doing so. But the pressure he applied to her shoulder was such that she could let out a shriek or rise, and she chose to rise.

Ian was in a foul humor indeed, for he was very nearly brusque with Rose Greenhow when they said good night, and he didn’t have a single thing to say to her when he set Alaina into her carriage. He didn’t join her, but rode behind the conveyance to the house. Alaina didn’t wait for anyone to help her out; she opened the door, set down the step, and exited the carriage quickly, hurrying into the house. In the foyer, Alaina found Lilly waiting. “Major McKenzie is home, directly behind me, Lilly, if you would see to him.”

She ran up the stairs to her room then, closing the door, leaning against it, gasping for breath. After a moment
she went to the crib where Sean slept, and saw that he was not in his little bed.

“Oh, my God!” she cried in sheer panic. She spun around, racing back to her door, but it opened just as she reached it, and she plowed straight into Ian. She brought her hands up against his chest, striking him wildly with her fists. “Where is he? Where is the baby? You—”

He caught her wrists, stopping her. “Safe,” he said flatly.

She wrenched free of him, backing away, so very afraid of his touch. “But you’ve taken him.”

A deep, dangerous look in his eyes stopped her cold.

Despite her firmest resolve, she found herself shaking. “I had no idea where you were. You chose to leave without saying a word to me. It’s true, I meant to leave, before it became impossible to do so. I waited here a long time.”

“Other women wait.”

“Other women’s husbands have the good sense to be loyal to their home state! I was just going to go to your parents’ home.”

“Were you?” he inquired skeptically.

She moistened her lips, painfully aware of her growing fear. He’d been gone a long time. He was leaner. Stronger. Meaner, she thought. Far more ruthless than ever. Solid as steel, as inflexible as rock. Hotter than fire.

“What difference does it make? I want nothing to do with you, Ian. I told you, if you must persist in being a traitor, I don’t want you touching me. Now, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I want my son.”

She lifted her chin and started to stride past him. He caught her arm, swinging her back before him.

“Oh, no, Alaina, I don’t think so. You’re not walking out of this room now.”

“The hell I’m not!” she said, furious, shaking. She started past him again, this time trying to circle around him for her freedom. It was a futile effort. One long step brought him to her.

“Ian, I—”

She broke off with a shriek, for she found herself lifted and thrown down on her bed. Before she could
draw breath, he had pounced upon her like a jungle cat and straddled hard and furious atop her.

“You aren’t going anywhere. Not today.”

“I despise you in that uniform!” she cried out.

“Ah, but what a little hypocrite you are, my love! I come home after endless weeks on duty to find you laughing away, the loveliest little belle in all D.C.—flirting with a circle of young men in uniforms of the United States army. Would flirting describe the situation? Hmm… yes, I think so. But to what end—when you so despise those uniforms?”

“Mrs. Greenhow asked me to help entertain her company,” Alaina said, grating her teeth. His eyes flashed cobalt fire. His thighs were tight about her hips, strong, warm. His hands pinned her wrists to either side of her head, and she wanted very desperately to hate him.