Chapter Twelve 

Stuart straightened at once and Mallory bounced to her feet, almost dropping the pillow, but she grabbed it and held it in front of what she now realized was quite scanty attire.

Captain Bell’s eyebrows went up and Stuart took a step in front of Mallory. “That will be all, Captain.” He closed the door after the man walked backward out of the room.

“Aunt Medora,” Mallory said shakily, trying to smile. “This is a surprise!”

“No doubt.” The woman’s frowning, sharp gaze went to Stuart. “You must be Logan Wakefield.”

“This is Colonel Stuart Wakefield,” Mallory said breathlessly, and added, “of the Union army.”

Medora looked him up and down. “Out of uniform, Colonel?”

Now minus the vest, he was still wearing the dark blue trousers, white shirt and dark suspenders. He inclined his head toward her. “My coat is across the hall. I was just—”

His eyes went to Mallory but before he could finish Medora said, “It is quite obvious what you were doing. I am appalled, Mallory, to find you here in your bedroom, alone with a man, and in your…unmentionables.”

Mallory looked at her aunt as helplessly as Captain Bell had done. Something about Medora made one feel helpless.

She was a tall woman, neither thin nor heavy. She wore a black dress with a short cape about the shoulders and a black bonnet. Her brother, Mallory’s father, had been a charming though not a handsome man—it was unfortunate that the same face had been bestowed upon his sister. Her eyes were small and acutely observant, her brows thick, her nose—though not prominent—certainly had character, and her mouth was wide over a receding chin.

Her tone seemed to communicate itself to the dog. It stopped wagging its tail and withdrew a dangling red tongue back inside its mouth.

“Am I to understand that you are related to the Wakefields?” Medora had a way of talking with her chin tucked downward so that she looked as though she were peering over a pair of spectacles.

“I am a cousin,” Stuart answered. He attempted to explain. “My men and I have been billeted here in order to investigate a certain matter. I came in here a few moments ago when Mallory called out—she thought an intruder had been in her room.”

The observant eyes landed on Mallory. “My dear niece, how could there be an intruder with soldiers everywhere? Your Captain Bell almost wouldn’t let Mr. Huger and me into the house.”

“Mr. Huger?”

“My man of business. He is downstairs. He kindly insisted on accompanying me from Charleston due to the hazardous nature of the journey. I would have come sooner, my dear, but I did have to wait until the fighting was over. Didn’t you get my letter?”

“Why, no.”

“Never mind.” She turned to Stuart. “What is this matter you are investigating, and why did Mallory think there was an intruder in her room?”

Stuart raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mallory. “I think we should have a talk, Mrs.—”

“Sedgwick. My niece did not introduce us properly.” Her bonnet jerked as she turned back to Mallory. “I suppose she felt disinclined to do so in her undergarments.

“Mallory, you will get dressed at once and I will speak with you both downstairs. In the meantime I will take Ladybird for an outing.”

“I suppose you mean the dog.” Stuart’s lips seemed to be restraining a grin. “A Scottish terrier, isn’t she? If you will permit me I’ll take her outside.”

Medora eyed him distrustfully. “She must be carefully watched. Ladybird can behave rather…unpredictably, at certain times. Are there any male dogs hereabouts?”

Stuart reached out and took the dog, surprising both the dog and Medora. Ladybird gave a muffled grunt, wagged her tail and tried to lick Stuart’s face.

“I’ll see to her, madam, and no, there are no other dogs on the place.”

He left the room before Medora could reply. “Well!” she said finally, and again looked at Mallory. “And you, miss—”

“Aunt Medora, please let me explain. There’s been…trouble.”

“Very well.” Medora cocked her head. “Please do so.”

“I was so tired when I went to bed that I didn’t put on my nightclothes—I just took off my dress. And then I woke and it was just as Stu—as Colonel Wakefield said. I called out—I must have been having a nightmare. He was just across the hall at the time and he came in to see what was wrong.”

“You said you thought someone was in your room.”

“Yes. I thought someone was—was trying to smother me. But I must have dreamed it because there was no one here.”

“And why did you say there has been trouble? What kind of trouble?”

Mallory took a breath. “There’s been a murder. Tonight. Tipper, one of our former slaves, was killed.”

“Killed? How?”

“She was stabbed, with a knife from the kitchen.”

“Stabbed! Who did it?”

“We don’t know. Stuart—Colonel Wakefield—will send for the sheriff in the morning.”

“My dear, if you are familiar enough with the colonel to call him by his first name, do so. And I daresay you are.”

Mallory bristled. “Tonight is the first time I’ve seen him in four years.”

“Ah, so you knew him before!”

A firm knock sounded on the door. It opened and Logan strode quickly into the room. “Mallory, what is all this?” He looked first at Medora and then at Mallory.

His anxious expression changed to one of surprise at her attire, or lack thereof, but before he could speak again Medora placed herself solidly between him and Mallory.

“My niece is not dressed to receive visitors, sir.”

“I beg your pardon. I kept hearing voices. May I ask who you are, ma’am?”

“I am Medora Sedgwick, Mallory’s aunt. You must be Logan Wakefield. I have come for a visit. I apologize for arriving in the middle of the night, but we did not wish to go all the way into the city and stay at a hotel, only to have to unpack and travel again tomorrow. We left early this morning from a place called Meridian and I can tell you it has been a most grueling journey, especially for Ladybird. I hope you have accommodations.”

“Well, I…certainly. That is, all the bedrooms are taken, but—”

“I will share a room with my niece. However, I have brought my man of business, Mr. Huger.”

Logan seemed to collect himself. “I’m sure that two of the officers can share a room, leaving one for your servant.”

“He is not a servant, sir. He is a banker and a good friend of mine. He will be returning to Charleston in a few days but I shall remain indefinitely. I have come to see to Mallory’s welfare and, if necessary, to take her home with me.”

Logan’s interested gaze moved again toward Mallory but Medora began ushering him to the door. “If you will have my baggage brought up the stairs, Mr. Wakefield, it will be much appreciated.”

“Certainly,” he said again, and without further ado he was in the hall with the door closed.

Mallory couldn’t think of a fate much worse than having to share a bedroom with Aunt Medora, and if Mr. Huger left in a few days who was going to escort Medora back to Charleston? She might be planning to stay for months—for years!

But I won’t be here. I’ll be with Stuart…won’t I?

“Now then,” said Medora, “put on your dress, Mallory, and we shall go downstairs and have a talk with your colonel. I must say I am shocked beyond words about this murder.”

She didn’t look shocked, but Mallory didn’t know her very well. Her visits to Grace Hall had been few and far between, and Mallory had never been to visit her aunt in Charleston. She’d always had the feeling that her father and Medora didn’t get on very well.

Mallory pulled her dress over her head and tried to say civilly, “Why didn’t you take the train, Aunt Medora?”

“Stars above, Mallory! Train tracks are torn up all over the countryside! And such damage and destruction…but of course you are buried out here in the country. I had your letter letting me know you were coming here to live, but how was I to know how suitable these arrangements are? I came as soon as I could.”

A sudden feeling of gratitude came over Mallory. She had been living at near poverty level, after all, and it was self-sacrificing of Medora to come all this way…even if she was overbearing and pompous.

“Thank you, Aunt Medora,” she said sincerely, reaching for the button at the back of her neck and smoothing down her skirt. “It was kind of you to come.”

“It is my duty.” Medora removed her bonnet, revealing gray-streaked black hair pinned severely at the back of her head. “My brother’s child…but I’ve always deplored your name, my dear. What kind of name is Mallory for a girl? It was your mother’s maiden name, of course, but I always thought Elizabeth would have been much more suitable.” She added rather wistfully, “Or Medora.”

Mallory went to the mirror and brushed her hair. Medora stood by the door and opened it, insinuating that she’d waited long enough.

Mallory followed her into the hallway. She carried one of the small lamps with her, lighting their way down the corridor to the first floor where Stuart was coming in with the dog. He set her down and her feet slipped and slid on the scarred but polished floor as she dashed toward Medora.

“There’s my girl!” Medora scooped the dog into her arms and looked at Stuart. “Where have you put Mr. Huger?”

“He’s in the parlor, ma’am,” Stuart said, gesturing, and Medora walked imperiously toward it.

“Mallory,” Stuart said in a low voice, catching her arm, “we’ll talk later. I’m glad your aunt has come to keep an eye on you.” He added, smiling, “I explained to Captain Bell what I was doing in your room. In spite of all, your reputation is still beyond reproach.”

“I think my reputation is the least of my worries!”

They walked into the parlor where Medora was speaking to a very tall and thickset man with a long face and lantern jaw, short, bushy eyebrows, and smooth, dark hair parted in the middle. He appeared to be about the same age as Medora and was dressed in a handsome but wrinkled dark linen suit.

Someone had kept up the fire and the room was brightly lit. Medora turned to Mallory and said, “This is Mr. Victor Huger. Mr. Huger, this is my niece, Miss Holt, and Colonel Wakefield.”

“How do you do.” Victor Huger bowed slightly toward both of them. “I wish to thank you for your hospitality. I regret our arrival was so late.”

He spoke with a rich British accent and Medora said, “Mr. Huger is from Liverpool. His bank has offices in Charleston and Savannah. I am grateful that he has accompanied me on this very arduous journey. Mallory, are there any servants?”

“No, ma’am, but please let me fix you something to eat and drink.”

“Oh, no, it is much too late for that. Mr. Huger, one of the slaves has been murdered tonight.” Medora spoke with a disapproving air as if it were the slave’s fault she had gotten herself murdered.

Mr. Huger, who seemed to have a naturally mournful expression, looked even more so. “A pity, I’m sure,” he said, with the Englishman’s economy of words.

Stuart said, “Logan and the driver are trying to unload the trunks. I’ll go and help them.”

Trunks! Mallory thought, dismayed. Medora had obviously come with a lengthy stay in mind. She left her aunt and Mr. Huger talking to each other and went onto the porch.

Moonlight shone down on the coach and two horses. There were three trunks and a number of bags sitting below the porch. Logan and Stuart picked up one of the larger trunks and started up the steps.

The driver climbed back to his seat. Logan turned to say, “You’re welcome to stay the rest of the night. We have rooms on the third floor.”

“No thanks, Reb,” the driver said cheerfully. “I’ll find a place in town closer to my own sympathies. Good night to you.” The horses started forward and the coach jerked and disappeared down the lane.

“Another Yankee,” Logan said, struggling with his end of the trunk. “I reckon I should have asked your permission before inviting him to stay.”

“It’s your house,” Stuart said shortly.

Mallory held the door open for them as they maneuvered the trunk inside and set it on the floor in the foyer. Logan looked reproachfully at the twisting stairs.

“Let’s wait until tomorrow to take them up. We can get Boyce and Henry to help. It might be easier to use the back stairs.”

Stuart turned to go back outside. Logan followed and Mallory watched them in the ghostly light. She looked out over the grounds and in the distance saw the light in Tipper’s cabin. She shivered and crossed her arms.

“Go in the house, Mallory,” Logan said. “Just leave the door open.”

“I’m all right. It’s letting in cold air.”

She opened and closed the door for them and soon all the baggage was inside. Logan went into the dining room, saying, “Come with me, Mallory.”

Mallory raised her eyebrows but followed Logan into the dining room. He went at once to the sideboard, opened a small door, and withdrew a bottle of whiskey. He poured some into a glass and offered it to her.

“Drink some of this. It’ll warm you.”

She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

Logan drank it himself, eyeing her over the glass. “What is your aunt doing here?”

“I don’t know. She just…showed up.”

“Quite a coincidence arriving here tonight after what’s happened.”

“Logan! You don’t think my aunt had anything to do with—with Tipper!”

“No,” he said slowly, “but it’s strange all the same.”

“Why, she didn’t even know Tipper. It’s absurd. Do you think she came here and murdered Tipper and has been hiding out in the woods all night with a driver and Mr. Huger along for company?”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic, Mallory,” he said, with a flash of irritation. “I didn’t say that. I only said—never mind.” He set down his glass with a sharp clink and took her arms in his hands.

“Mallory, this thing about Stuart. You can’t mean it. You don’t know him. You met him once, four years ago. War changes a man. You can’t begin to know…”

“Logan, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I feel a responsibility toward you, Mallory. And I love you. Did I tell you that today? Maybe I’m not as romantic as Stuart, maybe I can’t play the da—the piano! But I can take care of you. You won’t have to leave here. You love this house and your own land adjoins it.

“Besides, you can’t possibly love Stuart! It’s something that just came over you when you saw him again. You thought you loved him once, but that’s over. I can forgive you for that—and forget. As you must forget.”

“Logan, it’s no use—”

He gave her a shake and her long, unbound hair fell over one shoulder. “You must be sensible, Mallory. He’s my cousin, but I can’t say that I know him. Not now. He’s a stranger to me, and to y—”

“Take your hands off of her.”

Logan’s head jerked upward. Stuart stood in the doorway with a look on his face that made him, just then, truly a stranger.

Logan returned his stare defiantly. Mallory felt his hands tighten on her arms.

“She’s engaged to me, Stuart! You had no right—”

“I had a right to ask her how she felt. I’ve loved her since the night I met her and I had reason to believe she once felt the same about me.”

Logan released Mallory but his fists clenched. “You should have done something about it then, and not waited until she belonged to someone else!”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Mallory said, with a dignity that would have gone far toward rectifying her earlier behavior in the eyes of Miss McKay. She looked at Stuart and added, “I am not engaged to anyone.” She walked toward the doorway and waited until Stuart moved so that she could pass.

She paused in the foyer. She didn’t want to go to her room and she didn’t want to go into the parlor to face Aunt Medora. She was tired and confused and full of a sense of horror.

There was silence behind her and she thought that Logan and Stuart must be staring each other down, but then Stuart was beside her, saying, “Your aunt wanted to speak with us, Mallory.”

He waited until she set her shoulders and turned to walk into the parlor. Stuart followed her, then Logan. Medora had seated herself on the sofa and was watching Ladybird busily explore the room. Mr. Huger sat in a chair that seemed barely able to support his thick and extraordinarily tall body.

Stuart and Logan remained standing as Mallory seated herself on the settee. At that moment Brooke swept into the room wearing the same low-cut gown she’d worn earlier. Her black hair had been pinned loosely on top of her head.

Mr. Huger, with surprising lightness, stood up.

“I simply can’t go back to sleep,” she announced. “What is happening, Logan, and who are these people?”