“Callie, we’ll leave here in ten minutes for supper with Varina. Be ready, please.”
It was Daniel. He had spoken politely. It had also been with an implacable authority.
It was the way he had always spoken, she told herself.
No, something was very different. He had married her. And he expected two out of three. Honor and obey.
Jared suddenly sputtered and coughed. Callie swept him up on her shoulder and stood, walking nervously with him as she patted his back. He let out a startling burp for such a tiny being, and she laughed and sat again, stretching him out on her lap. “Just what can he really expect, my love, eh? He married a Yankee. And really, I haven’t Obeyed’ anyone since Pa …” Her voice trailed away.
She leapt up. Her ten minutes had to be just about up.
She paused, feeling the hard wood beneath her stockinged feet. She still had no shoes.
Well, it was summer; her feet wouldn’t freeze. But there was so much mud and dust in the road.
“Callie!”
He called her from downstairs. Her old shoes were too worn and filthy to possibly be on her feet while she wore this dress. She bit into her lip once, then went flying out of the room.
He was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. His eyes swept over her and he let out a grunt, as if voicing a grudging approval.
“Let’s go. Ben will be taking us in the Lunt’s carriage.” He hesitated. “You could leave Jared with Cissy.”
She shook her head vehemently. “He might—need me,” she said. Actually, that night, she needed Jared. And she hadn’t come from his kind of money. She wasn’t accustomed to leaving her baby behind.
It was a brief ride back to the White House of the Confederacy. Night had come, and the house was lit against it and seemed very beautiful as they approached. There were other carriages arriving, and guests coming on foot. Once again, they came in by the pleasant foyer. Varina, gracious and beautiful, greeted them. This time they moved through that central door into a very gracious parlor.
The women there seemed to dazzle, Callie thought. They all sat so beautifully, or stood with such grace, their hair swept up, their fans moving like hummingbird’s wings against the heat of the night.
They all seemed to know one another. And Daniel.
They flocked around him, talking about the war, demanding to know about this battle or that, then whispering that, of course, they didn’t really want to hear.
They were ladies, after all.
They spoke softly, with lovely, cultured drawls, ignoring Callie at first, then trying very hard to appear well bred and not stare too pointedly once Varina had managed to introduce her as Daniel’s wife.
Callie felt as if her teeth had been permanently glued into a mask, but to Daniel’s credit, he seemed totally unaware of the adulation that had come his way. They were quickly parted, but each time she looked across the room, she found his eyes upon her, cool and speculative.
“Why are you staring so?” she whispered when she had a chance.
“I’m just hoping that no one spills any of the big secrets of the Confederacy while you’re here,” he whispered back.
“How very amusing.”
“It’s not amusing at all. At the moment, it seems that we’re doing a very good job of losing the war without your help.”
He moved on. A blonde caught his arm. She felt a strident pang of jealousy. A dashing young man with a sweeping mustache, dressed in uniform that had surely never seen any duty, struck up a conversation with Callie, assuming that she knew all about Daniel’s Tidewater home. She smiled and murmured now and then, and that seemed enough.
One buxom brunet cooed over the baby, but a moment later Callie heard a whisper behind her back that such an infant should have been left with its nanny. Callie didn’t care as long as Varina seemed so delighted with Jared.
Daniel introduced her to two men in uniform, a Major Tomlinson and a Lieutenant Prosky. When she turned, she heard the major speak to his wife.
“My Lord, but he did find a stunning bride!”
“Find? But that’s just it dear, where did he find her?” his wife replied. “I know nothing of her, or her family. Does anyone know anything about her?”
Callie felt as if her ears were burning. Daniel had been swept away by the lieutenant. She had never felt so very alone, surrounded by so many people.
And all of them Rebs.
The creme de la creme of Rebs, at that!
A soft hand fell on her arm, and she was looking into the warm and beautiful eyes of Varina Davis. “Come, Mrs. Cameron, let me show you the house. The dining room is there, of course, to the left of the foyer. Now, these rooms here you see, the one we’re in and the one to the right, can be separated by those doors. Pocket doors. They’re so very clever, don’t you think? We can break the house up when we’re alone, and open it up like this for such an occasion as tonight. It’s a wonderful house. We were so grateful that the city should give it to us. I’ve enjoyed Richmond and the Virginians tremendously. Jeff was inaugurated in Alabama, of course, but I’ve very much loved this place.”
“It’s very beautiful,” Callie agreed.
Varina smiled. “You’ll like Virginia.”
“I’m not from so very far away,” Callie murmured. “Maryland.”
Varina studied her. Maryland. A state more split than the country itself. It seemed that Varina sensed that Callie had come from a home with Federal leanings, no matter where that home stood. But she didn’t seem to despise her for it. She seemed to understand.
“It is a very hard war,” she said softly. She reached out and stroked Jared’s dark hair, for the baby slept against Callie’s shoulder. “Come, follow me,” she said, leading Callie to a small room that sat straight to the right of the foyer. “If you want privacy with the baby, you must bring him in here. There are a few of Jefferson’s books here and my sewing, and a nice comfortable chair. You will not be disturbed.”
“Thank you,” Callie told her. She hesitated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I don’t—have a nanny. He has always been with me.”
“That’s very special,” Varina said. “Children are precious. Perhaps we forget that too often.” She smiled, and started to lead the way back. When they returned to the main parlor, Callie was immediately struck by the tall thin man with the haggard face standing by the mantle, conversing with the major. His hair was graying, but he stood with a striking dignity. There were heavy lines about his eyes, and he appeared a man wearied by a great sorrow. He listened to the major, but as his eyes caught Varina’s across the room, it seemed that the weariness he wore like a heavy cloak was somewhat lightened. He smiled vaguely. His gaze rested upon Callie, and his brows arched.
Varina caught her hand. “Come, you must meet my husband, Mrs. Cameron.”
Her palms went wet; Callie nearly pulled back. She had just married Daniel, and now she was about to meet the president of the Confederate States.
How could she ever explain it to her brothers?
But there was nothing that she could do—short of shouting out that she was a Yankee and probably finding herself facing half a dozen swords. She had to go forward.
But Lord, how had she wound up here, a very part and parcel of the beating heart of the Confederacy.
“Daniel’s wife, my love,” Varina said. “Mrs. Cameron, my husband, President Davis.”
She extended her hand. Very much the gentleman, the president leaned over it with all gallantry. “Mrs. Cameron. You grace us with your presence.”
And that was it. Dinner was announced, and now Daniel’s hand was on her arm again. In the large dining room, they were seated across from one another. Despite efforts for the conversation to be led along light lines, there could be no conversation that did not include the war.
The gentleman to Callie’s left complained about inflation. But the president, helping himself to meat from a platter, did not seem to hear the words. “There have been cavalry skirmishes
all the way down, Daniel,” he said. “Lee brought the bulk of the army over the Potomac on the fourteenth. Meade is following, so I am told. But he failed as those men always failed—he has not managed any assault on our main army.”
“Lee is a wily commander, sir.”
“Were it only that all my commanders were so able.”
“Yessir.”
Davis set his fork down. “Dear Lord, but we are in dark days now. This horrid battle … Gettysburg. And the loss of Vicksburg.”
“They can’t break our spirit!” Varina said softly from the other end of the table.
He lifted his wine goblet to her. “No, they cannot break our spirit,” he agreed. He looked to Daniel again. “Nor can those northern fellows best our brave fighting men, like our fine Colonel Cameron. Sir, you will be back with your unit as soon as possible, won’t you?”
Callie was startled to sense the slightest hesitation on Daniel’s part. Perhaps she had imagined if.
Yet when Daniel spoke, she thought there was a deep weariness in his voice, despite the words. “Yessir. I shall be back as soon as possible.” His eyes, deep, brooding, touched Callie’s across the table. Yes, he would be gone. Soon. And she would be free of him.
Except for her vows.
“To our brave boys in fine butternut and gray!” someone called out.
The guests stood. Wine glasses clinked.
Callie took that opportunity to flee, excusing herself swiftly to Varina, finding the sanctity of the sewing room where she could be alone.
Yes, Daniel would be gone.
It was truly a world gone mad. She closed her eyes, rocking with Jared. It hadn’t been so long ago that she had lived on a little farm and had wanted nothing more than to stay there, with the mountains always in view, for all of her life. Day in and day out, her cares had been the same. She had buried her loved ones, her grief sustained by the firm belief that they had died for something that she believed in deeply—the sanctity of the Union and freedom for all men. A freedom promised in the Constitution of a great nation, but a freedom not yet realized. Still, it had been a simple life.
Now here she was, in silk and taffeta, married to the enemy. And dining with the president of the enemy nation.
She swallowed hard, then pressed her hand against her hot cheeks. She could not stay here forever.
Daniel might well believe she was tearing apart the president’s house in search of some vital information.
Jared slept. She rose with him and started out of the little room.
The pocket doors to the right side of the parlor had been pulled over. She could dimly hear the voices still coming from the dining room.
She wasn’t alone.
She stopped short, seeing the tall, lean president of the Confederacy slouched by the mantle, his forehead in his hands. Etched into his face was a look of such utter misery that Callie could not help but find a burst of pity swelling within her heart.
He sensed her there and turned.
“I’m—I’m so sorry,” she murmured swiftly. “Mrs. Jefferson said that I might use her sewing room. Well, it’s your room, too, of course.” She sounded so very awkward. “I’m sorry. I’ve intruded terribly, and I did not mean to do so.”
He watched her gravely, then a slow, sad smile touched his lips. “You are welcome here in this house, Mrs. Cameron. Wherever it is that you choose to be.”
“But I have disturbed you. I—I’m sorry,” she said again. “The look on your face …”
“You mustn’t worry so. I was merely thinking of the men.”
“The men?”
“Those who have died. So many. I read the death lists and I see so many friends have gone on.” His gaze met hers suddenly. “From both sides, Mrs. Cameron. The men I fight are often the men with whom I worked for years and years before this all began.”
“The lists of the dead hurt us ail.”
“They must, Mrs. Cameron. Have you still kin in the Union army?”
How did he know? She was certain that Daniel had not announced her status.
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“It is very hard to pray for men, Mrs. Cameron, when the ones you love might well face one another. Daniel must face his own brother. And now, perhaps, he will face your kin too. My heart is with you, Mrs. Cameron.”
“Thank you,” she said swiftly. He was gentle and kind. She didn’t want him to be so. She wanted him to be stiff and cold, the president that the northerners so frequently mocked. She didn’t want to like him, or feel this empathy with him. “I am sorry that I disturbed you,” she said. “The baby—”
“Yes. What a lovely thing to see him with you. May I?”
To her amazement, he reached for the baby. Callie hesitated, then walked across the room. Davis took the child from her gently. Jared didn’t protest. He stared up at the tall man in black.
“He’s a very beautiful child, Mrs. Cameron. My congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
A curious, small bubbling sound of laughter came to them. Callie swirled around. From the hallway, where there was a beautiful winding stairway to the upper floors, there was movement.
“Who’s there?” The president demanded. He sounded very stern.
But his voice didn’t bother the pretty child who suddenly appeared. She stepped out, her eyes alight, her hands behind her back.
She was in a long white nightgown, and she looked very demure at first, then she pelted across the room to come to a swift halt in front of the president.
“Margaret, my eldest,” he explained to Callie, and his face softened tremendously, even as he tried again to be stern.
“Young lady, you are supposed to be in bed.” His voice was meant to be stern. It was not quite so hard as it might have been, and Margaret, who knew very well she should have been in bed, lowered her lashes, then gave him a beautiful, imploring smile.
“But, Father, what a lovely baby! May I see him?”
“You must ask Mrs. Cameron.” Davis said. Callie could not help but think that here was a man, a very powerful and important man, and like all others, North and South, he was blessed or cursed with an Achilles’ heel where his children were concerned.
Margaret had wonderful, deep eyes. She was as charming as her mother as she turned to Callie. “May I, Mrs. Cameron? Just peek at him, please?”
Callie smiled. “Of course.”
Davis went down on a knee, holding Jared. Margaret touched his cheek, and the baby offered up a coo. “I’m very good with babies, Mrs. Cameron. Truly, I am. I am the eldest, you see.”
“And now, back to bed! Before your mother catches us!” Davis said, rising with the baby.
Margaret gave him an impish grin, and turned to flee back toward the stairway. She paused before she reached it, turned and bowed very prettily to Callie. She disappeared once again.
“Perhaps I haven’t a heavy enough hand,” Davis mused.
“She’s a lovely girl, sir.”
“Thank you.” He crossed the room, returning the baby to Callie. “Perhaps we had best return. My wife will be worried for my state of mind. And your husband will be worried, for surely he must worry every time you are out of his sight.”
Yes, that was probably true enough, Callie thought wryly. Daniel would be worried about the state of his beloved Confederacy.
The president took her elbow to lead her back to the dining room.
“I am sorry that you must find yourself here, dear, in enemy territory. It is so very complex, this war. My enemies are so often my friends. Perhaps, eventually, you will be more a Virginian than anything else. What ever, you must not think yourself an enemy to this house. Come visit when you may, and know that the door will be open to you.”
“Thank you!” Callie said. They had reached the dining room, and Daniel’s eyes were on the doorway, as they must have been since she had first left the room.
Those sharp blue eyes narrowed the moment he saw her entering upon Davis’ arm.
/> He stood up, walking around the table to seat Callie himself. He stared at her, in question, in warning.
She smiled demurely and dinner continued.
It was a subdued night, because of the battle losses. And because Meade, with his whole army, was moving after Lee’s. Sluggishly, perhaps, but still, the Union army would be raping the Virginia countryside once again. Virginia herself was now already long split, with the western counties having voted to join the Union and the Union now having taken them on as a state. Some said that especially in Harpers Ferry, the people had voted to secede from Virginia and the Confederacy because there had been Yankees all around with rifles, watching the voting.
No one really knew.
But it seemed the South had reached a darkest hour, and that was evident tonight.
Yet it was equally evident, Callie thought, that no essence of their spirit was dead. These people were proud, they were honorable. She felt, as she sometimes did with Daniel, that intangible thing they were fighting for. It held them together against loss. It—along with the talent of their generals—kept them strong in battle when the northern numbers should have been overwhelming. It sustained them against loss.
And she thought, it would hold them together as a people when this great conflict was long over.
Despite the losses now coming the Rebel way, victory might still be theirs. Not so much on the battlefront, but in the political arena.
The war had changed dinner conversation. No one suggested that the present situation not be discussed in front of the ladies.
And so Callie listened to the talk and speculation.
McClellan, Little Mac, the general who had so often infuriated Lincoln by refusing to move against Lee, was moving now—into the political arena. If he were elected president of the United States, he wanted to sue for a negotiated peace.
But the elections were still a year off.
Lincoln now had a few great victories behind him.
The South would rise again.
The South would always rise again.
Callie looked up. Daniel’s eyes were steadily upon her.
“Tell us, what do you think, Mrs. Cameron?”