Twenty-Five

 

With the seizure of Fort Fisher in January and Fort Sumter in February, the business of blockade running died. As the activity which had fueled the prosperity of Nassau ended, the island town underwent a speedy and inevitable change.

The hotel that had once housed the captains of the fast steamers and their crews was quiet. A few residents remained there, but the ballroom was silent and the dining room no longer reverberated into the night with the shouts of drunken sailors and gamblers.

Tommy kept Lily informed of the changes, and it seemed that every day he had news of a new departure. The new serenity of the island seemed to agree with him.

He took up fishing, an activity he had disdained for years, and he provided the household with fresh fish every day. Uncle Tommy, a fisherman.

Shops closed; the merchants who had come to Nassau to make a quick profit were gone with the blockade runners. Those who remained had been there for years and would be there for years to come. Their profits were not so great any longer, but they earned enough to get by. That was all they had been looking for when they’d settled on the island of New Providence, in the town of Nassau.

Lily stayed in her white house, as reclusive as Captain Sherwood had been. She had Cora and Tommy with her and the ocean outside her window, and she told herself again and again that she needed nothing else.

The climate in Nassau was always mild, but Lily knew that March meant a promise of spring for Quint. She had followed the progress of the war closely through newspapers that were weeks old before she saw them, and she couldn’t stop herself from wondering, as she read of battle after battle, if Quint had been there.

She’d had no word from him, not a single letter in the five months they’d been apart. Neither had she attempted to send a message to him. The temptation to tell him that she carried his child would have been too great, had she put pen to paper.

She sat in the parlor, where she and Quint had played chess. She rested on the serpentine-backed loveseat where he had held her hand and kissed her and asked her to run away with him, and she laid her hands over her swollen belly as she remembered.

Life since her return to Nassau had been so quiet that when she heard someone knocking at the front door, she started, and her heart skipped a beat. Her first thought was that it might be Quint, though she knew he wouldn’t knock so timidly. Besides, the war wasn’t over, and she didn’t expect to hear from him until all his battles had been fought and all his ghosts put to rest.

If she heard from him even then. If he still wanted her.

Cora led the visitor into the parlor, and Lily rose awkwardly. She couldn’t have been more surprised, even if it had been Quint.

“Mrs. Slocum.” Lily remained standing in front of the loveseat, her hands resting on her belly, her head cocked to one side as Cora backed out of the room.

Eleanor Slocum was dressed in a silver-gray gown; it was the first time Lily had seen the widow in anything but black. Her mourning was over, then, Lily decided, though Mrs. Slocum looked anything but cheerful with her high-necked gown and that dark hair pulled back into a severe bun.

“Mrs. Tyler,” Eleanor Slocum returned the greeting solemnly. She tried to hide it, but there was surprise in her eyes as she stared at Lily’s distended midsection that was covered with draping green calico.

Lily felt the blood drain from her face. “How did you know?” She had told no one but Cora and Tommy that she and Quint had been married. No one else on the island knew. Captain Dennison had left the island for good in January, taking Roger and the rest of Lily’s crew with him. They had sworn not to tell.

“I received a letter from Quintin several months ago, through a mutual friend.” Mrs. Slocum regained her composure and moved with slow, graceful steps to stand near Lily.

Lily offered her guest a chair and returned ponderously to her own seat. Quint had found the time to send a letter to Eleanor Slocum, but not to her. That fact told her all she needed to know.

“What brings you here, Mrs. Slocum?” Lily felt huge and clumsy next to the elegant woman who lowered herself into the chair like a queen taking her throne. Suddenly her stomach seemed larger than before, grotesque even, and her hair too untidy, her dress too plain.

“I’m leaving the island this afternoon,” Eleanor Slocum explained indifferently. “I wanted to see you before I departed. The truth is, I should have left weeks ago, but…. ” She faltered, and her lips trembled slightly. “I don’t really know where I’m going.”

Lily frowned at the woman’s reticence. “Your family?”

“Disowned me when I married Henry Slocum.” A sad smile, but the composure was once again intact. “But that’s a long and very boring story.”

Lily wondered how close Eleanor Slocum and Quint really were. He’d said that his relationship with the widow had been one of friendship only, but had that been a lie? One of many? He’d written her a letter, and Lily was as jealous of that fact as of anything else.

“Your letter from Quint... is he all right?” Lily hated to have to ask, but not as much as she needed to know.

“Last I heard, he was just fine.”

“You’ve heard from him... more than once?”

“Three times.” Eleanor Slocum’s eyes were on Lily’s face. “The first letter explained some of what happened, Captain.” She smiled as she said the word aloud. “Then there were two letters which consisted of four words. ‘Is she still there?’ ”

Lily felt a rush of relief. He hadn’t forgotten her. “And your response?”

Eleanor Slocum lifted a finely arched brow. “I responded in kind, with a single word. Yes. I’m surprised he didn’t ask about your health, considering your condition.”

“He doesn’t know, and I’d prefer to keep it that way,” Lily said curtly.

“Is it his child?”

Lily felt her face grow warm. “Of course it’s his child!”

“Then why on earth—forgive me, Mrs. Tyler. I didn’t mean to pry into your personal affairs.”

Lily glared at the woman, and her imagination ran wild. Quint and Eleanor Slocum in her little cottage. Quint and the attractive widow together, back in the States.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Tyler?” Eleanor Slocum leaned forward, a concerned frown on her face. “You’ve gone quite pale.”

Lily stared into the widow’s dark eyes, searching for the truth. “What is your relationship with my husband, Mrs. Slocum?”

“I cursed Quintin Tyler as a fool for becoming so besotted with Lily Radford, the Captain’s mistress.” Eleanor Slocum smiled. “But it seems he wasn’t the only one bedeviled.”

Lily waited silently for her answer.

“Purely business, Mrs. Tyler.”

Lily released the breath she had been holding. Eleanor Slocum was telling the truth, she was certain. “So, you’re a spy as well?”

“I was. There’s no need for me to be involved in such activities any longer. The war is almost over, Mrs. Tyler.” There was sad relief in her voice. “Too late for me. Perhaps not too late for you.”

Lily laid her hands over her belly, unconsciously caressing her baby. “I hope that’s true.”

“You’re very lucky,” Mrs. Slocum said wistfully. “You have that baby, no matter what happens. I wish that I... that Henry and I... but we’d been married only a year when he was taken from me. He joined as soon as the war began. Two years later he was dead. My mother cursed me for a fool, because I waited for love. Love, she said, was for poor white trash, not for the aristocracy of the South.”

There was a sad, mocking tone in her husky voice. “I was nearly thirty when I met Henry and we married. My mother was mortified. A Yankee!” She smiled poignantly. “If I’d had a baby to hold, perhaps I wouldn’t have been so lost, so angry when he died.”

“I’m very sorry.” Lily’s voice was little more than a whisper. A year ago she wouldn’t have understood, but now she understood all too well. What if she had found Quint in peacetime, and they had planned a future together only to have it ripped away?

“Perhaps, since I’ve bared my soul to you in a most ungracious fashion, you will share with me the reason you haven’t told Quintin that he is about to become a father.” She sounded a bit sheepish about her request, and she was blushing just a little. Lily was certain that was rare for the composed widow.

Lily sighed deeply. She had wondered a thousand times if she’d made the right decision in not telling Quint about the baby. “I love Quint very much, Mrs. Slocum. But we came together in uncertain times, on opposite sides of this conflict. Sometimes I wonder if his feelings for me were real or a mirage. When this is all over, when the war comes to an end, I’ll know. If Quint comes to me, I’ll know. If he doesn’t…. ” Lily shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant. “If he doesn’t, then it was all a fancy and I’ll have to get on with my life as best I can.”

She lifted her eyes to Eleanor Slocum and buried the emotions that roiled inside her. “I won’t trap Quint with a baby. I’ll love him for the rest of my life, but I won’t hold him that way. You know how damned noble he can be.”

The widow smiled. “I’m beginning to see what Quintin saw in you. There was a time when I wondered, but you’re not the witless girl you pretended to be. He saw through that, you know.”

“I know.”

“If you and I weren’t enemies, Mrs. Tyler, we might have been friends.”

Lily smiled sadly, but her smile faded as she laid a hand over her stomach.

“Are you all right?”

“He’s kicking.” Lily held her hands over her taut belly, wondering how on earth she was going to get any bigger. By her calculations, she had almost two months to go.

Eleanor Slocum rose from her seat, rising like a silver-gray cloud. She floated across the floor to stand before Lily, and to look down at her stomach. There was such a look of longing in the widow’s eyes that it broke Lily’s heart.

Lily reached out and took Eleanor Slocum’s hands. Without thinking, she placed the woman’s hands over her belly, and they waited silently. Then the baby moved again, and Eleanor’s gloomy look changed to one of wonder.

“I think that’s an elbow,” Lily whispered.

They stood in that position, Lily seated on the loveseat, Eleanor Slocum bent over her with her hands pressed lightly to Lily’s distended midsection, Lily’s hands over the widow’s, for several minutes. It was as if time were suspended, and the soft light that danced through the window lit Eleanor Slocum’s face. Lily saw hope beneath the sorrow and felt a wave of serenity wash over her.

And then the spell was broken, and Eleanor Slocum pulled away as Lily lifted her hands.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Tyler.” The widow actually blushed a bright red. “That was most improper of me.”

Lily smiled. “I’ve never cared much for what was proper and what was not, Mrs. Slocum. I don’t intend to start at this late date.”

Eleanor Slocum turned to leave, composed once more.

“Well,” she said in a surprisingly strong voice. “I’ve seen what I came to see, Mrs. Tyler, though I must admit you’ve managed to surprise me.”

Her back was ramrod straight, her shoulders thrust back as she walked away from Lily.

“Mrs. Slocum.” Lily rose slowly, one hand on the arm of the loveseat, one on her belly. “If you see Quint…. ”

Eleanor Slocum spun around, and her appearance was calm once more. But Lily saw fire in her eyes. “I won’t say a word to anyone, Mrs. Tyler. Your secret is safe with me. But when Quintin Tyler comes for you—and he will come for you—hold onto him for dear life. Don’t ever let him go.”

Lily felt a grain of hope when she heard the widow’s confident words. At least one of them was certain of Quint’s intentions.

“If he does come for me, you can be assured that I won’t ever let him out of my sight again.”

“If, if, if.” Eleanor Slocum waved a delicate hand in the air. “Really, Mrs. Tyler, insecurity does not become you.”

With that, Eleanor Slocum turned on her heel in a swirl of silver gray and marched through the door. Lily heard the front door open and close, then heard the widow’s retreating footsteps on the walkway.

“I’m not insecure,” Lily whispered to the empty room. “I’m just... practical.”

 

Quint sat his bay and surveyed the line of soldiers snaking along the road ahead of him. It would soon be over. Richmond, the capital of the Confederacy, would soon be in Union hands. The Rebs they’d been fighting were hungry, and poorly clothed and armed. They were an army on its last legs.

There was a customary frown on his bearded face. He’d tried to leave Lily behind, but she was always with him... in battle and in times like this, when his thoughts turned to the future.

He reached into the pocket of his uniform jacket and withdrew the sheet of paper that had been folded and refolded a hundred times or more. He looked down at the single word, written in a well-formed script of sweeping letters.

Yes.

The ache in his heart longed for more. Was she well? Did she think of him at all? Why did she remain on the island when the venture that had taken her there had ended?

Still, the single word told him all he needed to know. Lily was there.

“Captain Tyler.” His name and the pounding of quickly approaching hoof beats roused him from his reverie, and he returned the letter to his pocket.

The private who drew up beside him handed over a plain envelope. “From Colonel Fairfax, Captain,” the young private said as he placed the envelope into Quint’s hand.

Quint dismissed the soldier and looked down at the missive. What now? He’d done his part for the secret service, and wanted no more of it.

He tore open the envelope and whipped out the single sheet of paper. Quint’s grimace turned into a wry smile as he recognized Eleanor Slocum’s handwriting.

Yes, yes, and yes, you fool. I hope you make a better husband than you did a spy.

There was no signature, but the sweeping penmanship was unmistakable. Did this mean what he thought, what he hoped it meant? Was Lily waiting for him?

He folded the letter neatly and placed it in his pocket with the others.

Yes, yes, and yes.