Surrender (19 page)

“You’ll come back!” Alaina said softly.

“I belong in the North.”

Alaina shook her head. “We’re all linked. Somehow. I can feel it. You will come back, I can feel it, Risa.”

Maybe. For now she was going home. Home—to Washington. She’d see Angus, whom she adored, and who loved her in return. She was safe, she’d be among her own people, and she could forget a certain Reb captain. And yet …

A terrible sense of emptiness haunted her. She was free, she reminded herself dryly. Free—from her enemy.

Yet she had never felt such a strange imprisoning weight upon her soul in all her life.

F
our weeks later, after a run to Bermuda, the
Lady Varina
, Captain Jerome McKenzie at the helm, defied the Union ships on her tail and made it into port at Charleston. It was one of the hardest runs to make, and despite the fact that he chose dusk to slip past the blockaders, he was seen. The Yanks were swiftly on his tail.

He called out the order to Mr. Douglas to come quickly about and return fire. Against the dying light the cannon fire was brilliant. The first Federal ship on their tail was hit; injured, it listed away. Jerome roared out an order to fire again; guns blazing, he then made for port with all available speed, shouting for a damage report. The element of surprise in his aggressive counterattack had confused the rest of the Feds, and no one else gave chase. The
Lady Varina
had been hit—a blow to her mainmast and upper aft deck. Still, she was soundly built, and had the strength remaining to fly over the water with tremendous speed and head for the safety of the Rebel guns protecting the harbor—and his ship—as they limped the final distance to port.

A crowd had gathered by the time the
Lady Varina
docked; men and women cheered their death-defying deed—and lined up to see what goods they carried.

“We’ve attracted quite a crowd,” Hamlin Douglas warned Jerome, sharp eyes scanning the dock. “Could turn ugly.”

“Come, now!” Dr. David Stewart protested. “These are the good Confederate citizens of Charleston!”

“Good citizens—who are besieged by Yankee gunboats. Good citizens lacking provisions—and luxuries.
It’s the luxuries they grow surly about,” Hamlin said, sadly shaking his head.

“Well, we must remind them, then, that luxuries must be sacrificed for morphine,” Jerome said flatly. Grasping one of the mainmast tie ropes, he crawled halfway up the mast. Using the rope for balance, he cried out to the crowd, sweeping the people a half bow from his towering position. “Ladies, gentlemen! The crew of the
Lady Varina
and I do extend our heartfelt gratitude for your encouragement, support, and prayers. However, we do sail as a Confederate states ship—and ladies, I’m afraid we carry no bonnets or stockings!”

There was a groan from the crowd, and then laughter. A young woman, beautiful and bold in a low-cut evening dress, called out in good humor, “Not a single pair of silk stockings, Captain?”

“Not a single pair, ma’am, yet had I only known that you were coming to greet the ship, I’d have made certain that we brought at least one set!”

“Careful, sir!” cried the young woman’s father. “We’ll be having an engagement here and now!”

Laughter rose again. “Ladies and gentlemen, again, thank you one and all!” Jerome called, then made a leap to the deck. As he landed, he discovered Major Jenson had come aboard. He was a prematurely graying man stationed at Charleston since he had lost a leg fighting with Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia.

He greeted Jerome warmly.

“Captain, seems as if you and your crew are going to have to spend some time in our fair city, seeing as how your ship will have to sit in for repairs.”

“I look forward to it.” Jerome smiled. “I’ve kin in your fair city. My mother hails from this region. We’ve a family home just on the outskirts.”

“Yes … I’ve heard of the place. I’ve met your sister and brother. However, sir, you are aware, your brother is with Lee’s army, and your sister is living in Richmond.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

“But as it happens, my family owns a great deal of property hereabouts. You and your men are welcome to our brand of hospitality on the Battery. There, across
the courtyard, is our family hotel, and we do hope you’ll abide there. As guests of my family, naturally.”

“Sir, I’m not sure that I could accept such generosity for so many—”

“Captain McKenzie, it’s well-known that you don’t fill your hold with bonnets and silk stockings, and many a Reb is alive because you’ve given so little thought to your own gain. It will be our honor if you’ll accept our invitation.” He grinned suddenly. “Besides, we’ve been used as a hospital often enough already!”

“Well, then. Thank you. But if my ship is to be laid up for any amount of time, I think my men and I will find other accommodations.”

“Sir, the railroads can take you straight to Richmond, if you’ve a mind. But now, edging up toward enemy territory, you might want to have a care.”

“How’s that?”

Jenson grinned. “Why, sir, you are the talk of the Northern papers.”

Jerome frowned. “Why?”

Jenson’s grin deepened. “Come along, sir. We’ll have supper, and arrange your transportation. And I’ll show you what they’re saying.”

Jenson’s family was indeed well off. An hour later Jerome and the major, a few fellow officers, and some townsfolk, including the stocking-seeking beauty—a charming flirt—gathered around the cherrywood table in the elegant dining room of a waterfront town house. A snowy cloth covered the table, the china plate was from England, the silver heavy and embossed. The wine was served in the finest hand-cut crystal.

The meal was whitefish, expertly prepared, along with an early summer harvest of vegetables. They did well enough on board ship, thanks to Evan Dieter’s culinary expertise, but Jenson’s Madeira was excellent, his whiskey even better, and the food was flavorful and fresh. Still, Jerome hadn’t discovered just what was being said about him in Northern newspapers, and he didn’t find out until the men had retired to the den for brandy and cigars. “Major Jenson,” Jerome said, seated with a cigar and
snifter, “I spend a lot of time at sea, out of communication. May I see these papers you mentioned?”

“Why, Captain, naturally.” He winked, and pulled a pile of papers off his desk. “Here’s the Washington paper … and one from New York … and Boston. Harpers is right here.”

Jerome accepted the stack, looking over the articles. He was stunned to have received so much attention, then infuriated.

General Angus Magee had been astoundingly vocal after discovering his daughter’s disappearance from St. Augustine. He accused the Southern navy men of being barbarians. He called Jerome “a savage pirate, and no true gentleman of any nation.” Any righteous father, North or South, should shoot him on sight.

He set the papers down, seeing red.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have shown you,” Major Jenson said unhappily. “Most of us find the stories more amusing than anything else.”

“Indeed!” thundered Pierce Thompson, the gentleman with the beautiful daughter. “What was his young lady doing floating out in enemy waters? No self-respecting man would allow his daughter to run wild like that.”

Jerome tried to smile in return to his ardent defender. “Ah, well—the New York papers mention my father’s Seminole blood, which, according to the paper, explains why I am such a barbaric savage,” he said dryly.

“Any military man knows you had no choice in the matter,” Jenson said matter-of-factly.

Thompson laughed softly. “And, sir, if I may tell you, the story has captivated the ladies. They are not at all appalled as chaste young women should be—they are all eager to be swept away to sea!”

Jerome kept smiling. Teeth clenched.

“Why, not even the young lady’s own article did a thing to convince your countrymen you were anything but right and gallant.”

“The young lady’s own article?”

“Yes, in the Tribune … there! So sorry—I forgot to give you that one.”

Jerome kept his temper and accepted the paper. The reporter had apparently caught up with Risa Magee in
Richmond. It seemed the young reporter had become instantly enamored of Risa—he raved about her beauty, courage, and capabilities as “she sat her horse with fluid grace, eager to be reunited with the general, her father, after her terrifying excursion out to sea with a Southern savage.” Naturally, she had been swept away against her will and cruelly imprisoned. She prayed earnestly that God would stand for the Federal forces fighting His battles—and that naturally, God would smite her cruel enemy. She said nothing about being seduced—forcefully or otherwise. Every other paper hinted at ravishment.

He set the paper down, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

“Sir, you’ve now acquired a reputation that does keep the ladies intrigued!” Trilby Harris, a captain of artillery told him enviously.

“But then again, they do say old Angus is out for blood,” Jenson told him, still amused.

“You know ‘old’ Angus?” Jerome asked him.

Jenson nodded. “Served with him, cavalry, right up until I resigned my commission with the United States Army to come home and serve my own state. He’s a fine old gentleman—but he sure does dote on his daughter. Then again, so did every man-jack one of us, sir. Miss Risa is a fine lady. Stunning woman, absolutely stunning. Independent, assured, and uncommonly smart. Why, the men would be spouting off sometimes, and Risa would step in and quietly point out where we were all a group of complete asses! I was halfway in love with her, along with so many other men, except that, before the war, well, we all thought that there was going to be an engagement between her and Ian Mc—” He broke off awkwardly.

“Between her and my cousin?”

“Yes,” Jenson said. “But apparently, they were just good friends.” He sighed. “If I could only go back! She’s a woman to warm a man’s dreams! Her eyes, sir … pools of purest blue heaven! She’s a classic beauty—”

“Indeed,” Jerome muttered.

Jenson lifted his glass. “Wish I’d been in your position, sir!”

Jerome didn’t have a chance to reply because Jenson’s maiden aunt burst through the doors, daring to disturb the men. “Gentlemen! We do hope you are enjoying your cigars, but it’s so seldom that we ladies have so many handsome men about. If you’ll be kind enough to join us for some dancing, we’ve found some fellows to oblige us with some music!”

“Ladies, our pleasure!” Trilby cried enthusiastically.

Jerome stood slowly, flexing and unflexing his fingers. He didn’t seem to really hear what was being said; he went through all the right motions on instinct and training alone.

It was Matt and Michael from his ship who provided the music, some dance tunes, and a lot of old Irish ballads. Naturally, they played “Dixie,” “Loralee,” and other haunting songs.

Jerome noted wryly that his “savage” reputation had indeed enhanced his popularity. He was surrounded by the ladies through the evening, and amazingly, even with doting parents nearby, he found himself more than subtly propositioned a number of times. It was, however, the beautiful brunette, Janine, Pierce Thompson’s daughter, who lured him most boldly.

The hour was growing late; they danced out onto the porch, overlooking the beauty of the Battery. Sky and sea were blue, deep but different shades.

“It’s a long and bitter war, Captain,” Janine told him, dancing close, her fingers playing with his hair at his nape, her hazel eyes wide on his. “It makes life far different than I had ever imagined.”

“True enough,” he agreed.

“I remember when it was all play,” she mused. “When I didn’t know whether to marry Lawrence Danson, William Rufus, or Sydney Malone. I wasn’t sure who would be the richest, the kindest, and the most powerful politically. Now it doesn’t matter in the least. William died at Manassas, Lawrence died at Shiloh, and Sydney was just killed at a place called Seven Pines.”

“I’m deeply sorry,” Jerome told her.

“I’m very lonely,” she told him.

At that moment her father arrived on the porch, and managed to cut in most opportunely on their dance.

Though he was heading out first thing in the morning to visit his sister, Sydney, and search the Virginia battlefields for his brother, Brent, he was to stay that night in Major Jenson’s fine Battery house. He lay in bed, naked, staring at the ceiling, when she arrived, slipping in by the balcony window. She wore silk and approached him hesitantly at first, then more brazenly, sitting by his side. She was feminine and alluring, and the sheet covering him tented as he instinctively rose to the occasion. But when she bent to him, offering an awkward kiss, he caught her arms and set her back. He desired her because she was there and he had liked her, but there was something wrong. He didn’t intend to get into a habit of deflowering decent young ladies. And it was more than that as well. The passion that had driven him to Risa Magee was lacking. He was tempted to make love to Janine just to force himself to feel that passion, yet he did not.

“I know you want me,” she whispered, and touched him, stroking the extent of his arousal.

Again, he set her away. “And one day, when the war is over, you’ll want the right man,” he told her firmly. And he rose then, heedless of his nakedness, seeing her back to the balcony door.

“I may not be so innocent as I appear!” she whispered, and there were tears in her eyes.

“And I may not be quite so jaded as I appear,” he told her gently. He kissed her forehead. “Go to bed. Your own bed.”

With a sigh and a shiver, her eyes sweeping over the length of him, she at last bid him good night. When she was gone, he remained. The breeze on the dark balcony was cool against his nakedness. He gave himself a shake at last. He’d gone daft. A beautiful woman had thrown herself at him—and he’d sent her away.

He lay back down. Perhaps he hadn’t been all that magnanimous. Perhaps he’d simply grown leery of so-called decent women. The only honorable women might be those who charged for their services.

He’d always taken great care with his relationships. Leaving the innocents alone—innocents! Like the general’s daughter who had so defamed him in print that his
name was now known across the whole of the countryside, North and South.