Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia (42 page)

“And you’d like me to stay out of the way?”

Hunter, who had been staring over her shoulder,
brought his eyes back to hers in obvious surprise. “Yes. I’d prefer that you
stay out of sight.”

“Well, I’m just about to start this book, so
you’ve nothing to fear from me.”

Hunter studied her another moment, nodded his
head, and disappeared out the door.

When Andrea heard the clatter of hooves in the
turnaround a short while later, she could not resist the urge to look out the
balcony door. The sight that greeted her caused the book to fall forgotten from
her hand. She watched in awe as a four–horse team of perfectly matched dappled
grays drew toward the house. Hurrying to the balcony, she leaned over the
railing to get a better look at the steeds and the elegant conveyance that
approached the front door directly beneath her.

“What you doin’, Miz Andrea?” Izzie stood behind
her.

“Oh, Izzie.
Look at that coach-and-four. I simply must see those horses!”

Andrea leaned
farther over the railing, but the team was now hidden from view. She
straightened and turned to Izzie. “And you’re going to help me.”

“Why you want to see some ol’ horse? They’s
horses all over dis place.”

Andrea ignored her, and limped out of the room
to stand at the top of the stairs. She heard greetings being made and saw two
well-dressed men—or the bottom halves of them anyway—following Hunter into his
library. Finally, the door closed.

Andrea motioned excitedly for Izzie. “Come on,”
she said, taking her by the arm and thrusting her down the stairs. “Go down and
make sure no one is about. I’ll run straight through the foyer and go out the
kitchen side.”

“I dunno,” Izzie protested. “Ole Him ’bout as
happy as a buzz saw today. And I don’t wanna go messin’ with no buzz saw.”

“Go on, hurry.” Andrea pushed her again. “I
don’t know how much time I have.”

Izzie crept down the stairs and looked
cautiously both ways, then motioned Andrea to proceed. Just as she reached the
bottom step, the door to Hunter’s study opened. Knowing she would never make it
back up the steps in time, Andrea decided to make a run for it. She limped
after Izzie, who had already skedaddled across the foyer and disappeared.

Andrea took only a few running steps before
colliding with a man hurrying out of the library. The resulting collision was
swiftly followed by the appearance of Hunter, whose fury was evident, though he
somehow managed to control his tone.

“I see you’ve made the acquaintance of my
houseguest,” Hunter said to the man who stared down at Andrea while holding her
securely in his arms.

“Your houseguest?” The man’s gaze swept over
her.

“Yes.” Hunter strode across the foyer and picked
up Andrea’s cane, which had clattered to the floor. “John Paul Clarke, may I
present Miss Andrea Evans.” He thrust the cane at her so she could step away.

John Paul Clarke reluctantly released her and
made a sweeping bow. “I apologize for my haste and clumsiness, Miss Evans. I
had no idea Mr. Hunter had a houseguest. It is indeed a pleasure to make your
acquaintance.”

That the man failed to use Hunter’s military
title when he referred to him did not escape Andrea’s notice. Nor did his
mocking tone of voice elude her. She studied his face, which was strikingly
handsome, yet the soft feel of his arms when he grasped her detracted from the
image.

“John Paul was on his way to get some papers
from his carriage.” Hunter’s tone made it clear to Andrea that he wanted her to
depart the room.

“I’m sorry. I was actually … I mean … it appears
you have a very nice team,” she said to John Paul.

“They are a sight, are they not?” John Paul
strutted over to the window and looked outside as if to remind himself just how
perfect the four horses really were. “Well, come then,” he said, holding out
his arm. “You simply must accompany me to get a better look.”

Andrea glanced at Hunter and saw him scowl as
she linked her arm in the stranger’s. When Victoria cleared her throat from the
stairway to catch everyone’s attention, Andrea was almost certain she heard
Hunter groan.

“Land’s sakes, Alex. How many more beautiful
women are you hiding at Hawthorne?” John Paul asked, as Victoria descended the
stairway.

“Oh, John Paul, stop.” Victoria elbowed Andrea
out of the way, then giggled and kissed him on each cheek. “What are you doing
here?” Then she turned to Hunter. “Why did you not tell me John Paul and his
father were coming?”

“We’re here on business,” John Paul said,
nodding toward the other man who stood in the doorway of the library. “Horse
business.”

“Oh, please, no.” Victoria waved her hand in the
air. “That’s all you two ever talk about!”

“Well Alex is determined to get his hands on
that stallion of mine.”

Andrea felt a prickle go up her neck and a knot
form in her stomach. Were they discussing Zeus, the gray stallion Hunter had
once mentioned he wished to buy? Her heart lurched at the remembrance of how
his eyes had lit up at the mere mention of the horse. Had she ruined Hunter’s
chance of acquiring the stud he had been trying to purchase for years?

Victoria held her hands over her ears and spoke
in an overly loud voice. “I don’t want to hear another word about horses,
especially not while we’re eating. You did invite them to dinner did you not?”
She threw a probing glance at Hunter.

“You’re, ah, welcome to—”

“We accept!” John Paul took Andrea’s arm again
as if he had accomplished a great victory. “Come now, Miss Evans. Let’s have a
look at that wonderful team of mine.”

* * *

Hunter had wearied of watching John Paul lean
close to Andrea during the entire meal, and decided to put an end to the
private conversation. “It’s been a long afternoon, gentlemen. Miss Evans, would
you like to retire?” He rose from the table and offered his arm, giving her
little chance to refuse.

Andrea gazed
up at him with a forced smile. “I suppose it has been a long day.” She stood
and turned to John Paul. “So very nice to meet you,” she said, offering him her
hand. She nodded in the direction of John Paul’s father. “Mr. Clark, a
pleasure,” she said, before reluctantly accepting Hunter’s arm.

As soon as the dining room door closed, Hunter
leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Bravo my dear. Another marvelous
performance.”

Andrea cocked her head innocently to one side.
“Performance?”

“I dare say anyone who did not know you could
not help but be impressed.” He felt anger swell within him when he thought of
the looks John Paul had thrown her—and the ones she had skillfully returned.

“Does that include you, Major? I had no idea I
was that
impressive
.”

“I believe I said anyone who does not know you.”
He pretended to be completely unaffected by her loveliness, though it was only
with great effort that he drew his eyes away from her when they reached the
bottom of the stairs.

“Did I in some way displease you?”

“No, my dear. You simply play the part of a
devoted Rebel so well that I’m beginning to wonder who the real Andrea Evans
is. In fact, I wonder,” Hunter said, leaning down so his face was just inches
from hers, “if
you
even know anymore.”

Andrea did not answer at first. But the redness
in her cheeks and the expression on her face was sufficient to tell Hunter what
she thought of him.

“Perhaps I find it pleasurable and refreshing to
have a discussion with a
gentleman
. Your behavior today was abhorrent.
You could have at least tried to be civil to your guests.”

“Believe me, Miss Evans, it is an act of
civility that I allow John Paul to step foot in my house.”

Hunter turned away, marking the end of the
conversation. “I’ll call Mattie to assist you up the stairs.”

Chapter
41

“Heaven hath a hand in these events.”

– Richard II, Shakespeare

Andrea
stepped out of the house with a large smile on her face a few days later,
gazing upon the brilliant sunlight beaming down in golden sparkles through the
trees. Halfway down the steps, she noticed a carriage tied to the post in the
turnaround she did not recognize.

She almost passed it by before noticing a young
female slave tied to the back. Noticeably pregnant, the woman was on her knees,
resting from apparently being made to walk a great distance.

Andrea hurried to the young woman’s aid, but the
slave covered her head and lay in the dirt like a dog cowering from the boot of
its master.

“Don’t hit me, missus. Please don’t hit me no
more.”

“I’m not going to hit you. Let me help you up.”

The woman lifted her head, revealing a pair of
brown, frightened, disbelieving eyes. Her look of pain and distrust revived
memories of the revolting spectacles Andrea had witnessed in her childhood. The
reflections lashed her into a fury for the injustices committed then and now.

Before she had time to react further, a shadow
appeared from the front of the carriage. Andrea looked up to see a man of
rotund stature, whose sweaty forehead and pallid skin reminded her of her
father.

“I do not believe I’ve had the honor,” he said.

Andrea refused to accept the extended hand.
“Have you no sense? No decency?”

“I beg your pardon.” He grabbed her arm. “Do you
know who you’re speaking to?”

“Remove your foul hands from me!” Andrea
struggled free from his grasp. “Or I’ll—”

“Miss Evans!” Hunter strode out of the house
seeking the cause of the commotion.

“Please control your wife,” the man said,
brushing off his coat like he had touched something offensive. “I’ve half a
mind to call off the deal.”

“She’s not my wife, and I wouldn’t attempt to
control her if she were,” Hunter said with a hint of anger in his own voice
now.

Andrea shot him a look of surprise. “What deal
have you made?”

“Mr. Potts has offered to purchase the two
blooded bays.” Hunter’s gaze shifted from Andrea to the slave girl behind the
carriage, apparently seeing her for the first time.

“You cannot possibly sell horses to someone who
treats property like this.” Andrea’s hand trembled as she pointed toward the
man. “
This
is what is wrong with the South!”

The slave looked up curiously.

Hunter took a step toward Andrea and spoke in a
gentle voice. “It’s none of our business.”

“None of our business?” Andrea hit her cane on
the ground and turned to face the man. “I’ll not turn my back on evil! How much
for her?”

“She’s not for sale,” Potts answered. “She’s
leaving with me and staying where she is.”

Andrea took a step forward. “And you’ll walk
over my prostrate form to accomplish it!”

“I said she’s not for sale. I just purchased
her, and need to make sure she knows who is master before I get her home.”
Potts brushed some imaginary dirt from his coat sleeve.

“Who is master?” Andrea spat the words. “You’re
nothing but a—”

“How much?” Hunter quickly interrupted.

Potts rubbed
his chin while making a grunting sound. “Well now, you can see she’s with
child. I’d say the two of them are worth fifteen hundred dollars.”

“You told me earlier you’d bought a negress for
eight hundred dollars. I’ll give you eight fifty, and the deal with the horses
is off.”

The man scoffed at the offer. “You jest. You’re
going to allow this . . .” his gaze swept over Andrea, “this slave lover to—”

Hunter rushed toward Potts, grabbed him by the
throat, and threw him against the coach with such force that the man’s feet
left the ground. “It’s for men like you that men like me are forced to shed
their blood in defense of this country.” Hunter’s face was but inches away from
that of the trembling slave owner. “If you’d like to leave this estate in one
piece, I’d urge you to consider my proposal.”

Andrea saw the strength in Hunter’s one arm, and
was both petrified and enthralled. When Potts responded with a nod, Hunter
released his grip, causing the man to fall against the coach gasping for
breath. Andrea gave Hunter no time to change his mind. She rushed to untie the
slave.

“What’s your name?” Andrea asked bending over
her.

The woman looked up with bewildered eyes.
“Gabriella,” she finally said in a whispered voice.

“Miss Evans!” Hunter’s voice was stern. “Mattie
will take care of her. I’d like to speak with you.” He turned and strode toward
the house without a backward glance.

* * *

Andrea stormed into the library to find Hunter
at the window, standing with his back to her. She could see from his stance he
was agitated.

“When I started this day,” he said, turning and
looking into her eyes, “I thought I had two horses sold—and at a very good
price I might add.”

Andrea looked away from his piercing gaze.

“Now, I find my purse empty of eight hundred and
fifty dollars. I am still in possession of two horses for which I have no use.
And will soon have, not one, but two more mouths to feed!”

“I’m sorry if I displeased you.” Andrea sounded
sincere, yet she revealed no remorse.

“This estate is not a sanctuary for your
menagerie of injured horses and abused slaves. I have a responsibility to feed
and clothe those already here. I have more than two hundred head of horses that
need my attention—”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Hold your tongue, Miss Evans.” His voice grew
noticeably louder. “That is not the point.”

Andrea stared at the floor, while twisting the
ring on her finger. She could tell Hunter had reached his limit.

“I did not mean to interfere.”

“You did not mean to interfere?” Hunter
bellowed. “Then what did you mean?”