such brilliant shades of red and orange that Hattie feared for a moment that Federal troops, quiet as they’d been, had somehow laid siege to the city, setting it afire. Seeing that it was only the colorful ushering in of a new day, she lay abed, Thom sleeping peacefully at her side, and thought of how there was nowhere she’d rather be at that moment unless of course the whole scene could be transported to a future when the war was over, and she and Thom could dispense with the whispers and subterfuge.
Thom’s sleep last night had been better than any since they’d arrived in Richmond. Hattie rolled toward him, hugging his chest, and felt the deep stirrings she experienced each time they touch. Soon—very soon, she hoped—Thom would be well enough for them to consummate their love. She had little notion of what to expect, but she trusted Thom with all her heart, and she trusted he’d be tender with her.
But that lay in the future. As Thom began to stir, she pushed herself away from him and rose from the bed.
He stretched, and his eyes brightened, watching her dress. “Mrs. Welton, you may well be the only doctoring I need.”
She smiled. “I wish it were so. But perhaps this physician of Lucy’s can get you strong enough to travel.”
His smile dimmed. “I hope her judgment can be trusted.”
“I know you’ve questioned it before,” Hattie said, fastening the top button of her bodice. “But you’ve never said why.”
“I’ve caught her saying more than she should, and to the wrong people.”
She waited for him to explain, but he said nothing more. He seemed protective of Lucy even as he warned of her errors.
“This seems a simple errand,” she said. “She shouldn’t have to say much of anything except that you need doctoring.”
She finished dressing and went downstairs, returning with a mug of chicory coffee and a slice of toast from the dining room for Thom. “Miss Warne left a note at the front desk last night, asking me to see her off at the station. You’ll be all right if I go?”
“Of course,” he said, then sipped from the mug. “If only this illness affected my taste buds. Then it wouldn’t be so hard to pretend this stuff was coffee.”
“The hardships we endure,” she said, brushing his forehead with a kiss.
Downstairs, she asked Eddie to summon a carriage. He procured one in short order, and within minutes, she was on her way to the train station. Even at this early hour, the city thrummed with activity, carts and carriages rattling along the streets while smokestacks from the ironworks spewed black smoke into the sky.
At the station, she asked the driver to wait while she went inside. The depot was busy, with soldiers milling about among the civilians and the air smelling of grime and sweat. At the far end of the waiting area, she spotted the narrow-shouldered figure of Miss Warne in her Rebel disguise. As Hattie approached her, Miss Warne held out a hand, greeting her as if they were acquaintances who’d happened on one another at the station.
Miss Warne suggested they move outside to the platform where her train was scheduled to depart. The morning’s chill lingered there, even among the steaming engines, and Hattie pulled her cloak tight as they retreated to a far corner where they could talk, the train yard rendering their words unintelligible to anyone but them.
“Thank you for coming,” Miss Warne said. To make herself heard above the rattle of engines and the squealing wheels of trains shifting into position, she nearly shouted into Hattie’s ear. “There are some things I wanted to communicate out of earshot of Lucy. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course,” Hattie said, leaning close to be heard. She wondered if Lucy’s days with the Pinkerton Agency might be numbered. Though she knew it was ungracious, the thought gave her some satisfaction.
“The letters Thom brought along—what’s become of them?” Miss Warne asked.
Hattie straightened, squaring her shoulders. “I delivered them.”
“Very good,” Miss Warne said.
“I also called on Luke Blackstone.”
Miss Warne’s gray eyes brightened. “I trust he received you graciously.”
“He did. I told him my father sent me. Which reminds me.” Hattie dug in her purse, extracting the letter she’d penned to her father, having sealed it shut on the way to the station. “I was hoping you could see this to the mail. I felt it only right, under the circumstances, to inform Father of my recent marriage to a man who shares his convictions.”
Miss Warne fingered the envelope, then slipped it in the jacket pocket of her soldier’s uniform. “That should prove useful.” Her lips turned in what passed for a smile. “It sounds as if you’ve turned a liability into an asset.”
Hattie’s chest swelled with pride. “That was my intention. As it turns out, Dr. Blackstone is acquainted not only with Father but also with the overseer at my grandfather’s…”
Her voice trailed off as a uniformed soldier passed, tipping his cap at the person he took for a fellow soldier. Mindful of her disguise, Miss Warne nodded, acknowledging the greeting, but kept her cap on.
“You were saying?” Miss Warne said when the soldier was gone.
“My grandfather’s plantation is in Louisiana, not far from Vicksburg, just south of Milliken’s Bend, near the river.” Though the stranger seemed out of earshot, Hattie made her voice light and carefree, as if this were mere nattering to pass the time. “It seems Dr. Blackstone and Father have a mutual acquaintance in Isaac Scarfton, my grandfather’s overseer. He hails from the North, but his loyalties are with the South.” A train whistle blew, sharp and shrill. Hattie drew closer still to Miss Warne, her lips close to her ear. “Dr. Blackstone indicated that Mr. Scarfton is the one passing General Grant’s battle plans to his enemies.”
Miss Warne’s brow furrowed. “I’ll see that gets passed along.” She reached in her pocket and extracted a roll of dollar bills, which she pressed into Hattie’s hand. “It isn’t much, but it should see the three of you through to Baltimore. Don’t tarry, Hattie. You all need to leave here as soon as you can.”
“We will,” Hattie said. “Thank you.”
She started to slip the cash into her handbag, but Miss Warne grabbed her wrist. “Keep it on your person.”
Hattie wondered what sort of dire circumstances Miss Warne was envisioning, that Hattie might lose access to her belongings, but the whistle blew again, and there was no time to ask. From the northbound train, a conductor cried, “All aboard!”
Miss Warne squeezed Hattie’s hand. “Until we meet again,” she said.
~ ~ ~
On the way back to the hotel, Hattie basked in the glow of her accomplishments. She’d conveyed to Miss Warne the information she’d acquired from Dr. Blackstone. In turn, that should turn attention on her grandfather’s overseer Isaac Scarfton, a weasel-faced man who was an ogre with the enslaved people of the plantation. What consequences he’d suffer, she didn’t know, but at the very least, General Grant’s plans would no longer be compromised.
All that remained was to get Thom out of Richmond. His bright manner this morning had encouraged her. Perhaps it would be only a few days before he was well enough to travel. She thought of the other good the two of them might do, teamed as husband and wife. Maybe they could even persuade Mr. Pinkerton to send them to Canada, where with any luck she could track down George.
Brightened by these prospects, she left the carriage and entered the hotel. Though the morning’s red sunrise had portended a storm, the sky’s only clouds were well in the distance, and the winter sun shone brightly if not warmly. Her steps felt light as she climbed the stairs. Only weeks before, her future had seemed far from certain. Now, she’d at least turned one part of her past in her favor.
When she reached the door to their room, she again found it unlocked. Lucy, she thought, with a twinge of annoyance. Couldn’t she have let Thom rest? Then she remembered Lucy’s plan to fetch a doctor. As she went in, she saw there was indeed a man at Thom’s bedside, his back to her.
As she shut the door, he folded his stethoscope and slid it into the pocket of his dark coat. Noting his stature and the way he carried his shoulders, slightly slumped, Hattie froze in place. Standing at the end of the bed, Lucy smiled.
“There you are, Hattie. I fetched Dr. Lucas, just as I said I would. He says with the right treatments, Thom will be good as new in no time.”
The man turned to face Hattie. The pale blue eyes and the sandy hair, graying at the temples, were all too familiar.
Her stomach sank. He held out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Welton.”
She shook his hand, her grip limp, her fingers clammy. So this was how he intended to play it, as if they’d never met. “The pleasure is mine,” she said in a voice that seemed to belong to someone else.
“There aren’t many like Dr. Lucas in Richmond, tending to friends of the Union,” Lucy said proudly. “I was lucky to find him, as he has only just returned to the city.”
Dr. Blackstone to his Rebel friends, Dr. Lucas to the Federals. Why hadn’t Hattie thought to press Lucy for details on the doctor that she swore had come highly recommended?
“You know how women can be, Dr. Lucas,” Thom said. “Fussing over a man when all he needs is a bit of rest.”
“Ah, but their intentions are for the best.” The doctor reached for a black satchel set near the foot of the bed. “Let’s proceed with the leeches, Mr. Welton.”
Hattie stepped close, her thigh brushing the mattress. “That won’t be necessary, Dr. Lucas,” she said coolly.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Hattie,” Lucy said. “The doctor says Thom needs leeching and emetics if he’s to recover.
“Though I can’t say I’m looking forward to the prospect of either treatment,” Thom said.
Hattie folded her arms across her chest. “We appreciate you coming, Dr. Lucas. But we have no further need of your services.”
“Hattie Logan!” Lucy said. “You seem determined to send Thom to the grave.”
“Welton,” Hattie said, her eyes fixed on the doctor.
“I won’t stand for it,” Lucy said. “Dr. Lucas, proceed with your treatments.”
Thom clasped Hattie’s hand. “Darling, if it truly disturbs you—”
“It does.”
The doctor smiled, showing a row of bright teeth. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Hattie kept her gaze on him as he left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
Now it was Lucy crossing her arms over her bosom. “You really can’t bear the thought of me—”
“Hush,” Hattie hissed. “We’ve got to get out of here, now.”
“But why?” Lucy demanded.
“Dr. Lucas isn’t how you know him, is it Hattie?” Thom whispered.
Shaking her head, Hattie went to the closet and began stuffing clothes into her bag and Thom’s. “Help me, Lucy.”
Lucy stayed where she was. “Not until you explain what’s going on.”
“Dr. Lucas, with Union sympathies,” she said, “is known among those favoring the South as Dr. Luke Blackstone. He’s engaged in plots to smuggle goods and pass secrets that benefit the Rebels.”
Lucy’s face blanched. “But I didn’t…I had it on good information…”
With some effort, Thom raised his head from his pillows. “You went on your own to see Luke Blackstone, Hattie?”
“Yes.” She folded a pair of Thom’s trousers and added them to the bag. “I knew you wouldn’t leave until we learned what he’s up to.”
“But how did you know he was up to anything?” Lucy asked.
“An intercepted letter,” Hattie said. “I tracked him down at a cottage outside of Richmond. Believing me friendly to the cause, he confirmed suspicions about a spy passing Union secrets near Vicksburg. I conveyed that information to Miss Warne before she left this morning so she could pass it along through the proper channels.”
Thom struggled to a sitting position, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed “Knowing that could change everything for General Grant.”
“I hope so,” Hattie said. “But now Blackstone knows I was only feigning Rebel sympathies when I called on him yesterday.”
Lucy wrang her hands. “What do we do?”
“Well, we can’t stay here, that’s for certain.” Hattie stashed a folded dress in the travel bag.
“There must be a train leaving soon,” Lucy said. “I’ll get my things and meet you at the station.”
“The station’s the first place they’ll look,” Hattie said.
“I understand Elizabeth Van Lew has secreted fugitives in her home,” Thom said.
“She may have been arrested,” Hattie reminded him.
“She has a brother living there,” Thom said. “Perhaps he can help.”
“Can Eddie be trusted to arrange for a driver who won’t divulge where he’s taken us?” Hattie asked.
Thom smiled weakly. “A few coins may buy their silence.”
“I wish we had time to disguise ourselves,” Hattie said, thinking of the stories she’d heard of Miss Warne’s many disguises.
“You and Lucy go on without me,” Thom said. “You two won’t be as easily recognized as me.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Hattie said. “You can barely walk.”
“Then I’ll dodder along as Mr. Lincoln did, making his way through Baltimore in the middle of the night.”
“It’s hardly the middle of the night,” Lucy said crossly.
“Your chances would be better if we laid a shawl over you, hiding your face as best we can.” Hattie dug in her bag for the black shawl she’d packed. She arranged it around Thom’s shoulders, then tugged at the edges to shroud his face.
“A good effect,” she said. “With the weight you’ve lost, we could almost pass you off as Mr. Lincoln.”
“As if that would help,” Lucy grumbled.
Thom shook his head, displacing the shawl. “I see why Mr. Lincoln felt humiliated in this get-up. Bring my pants and shirt.”
“A little humility never hurt anyone,” Hattie said, but she brought him the only trousers and shirt she hadn’t yet packed.
Thom fumbled with the buttons of his bedclothes. Hattie knew he was trying to hurry, but his fingers were so swollen. “Let me help,” she said, and he didn’t object as she undid the buttons.
“Aren’t you the cozy couple?” Lucy said, turning to the window as Hattie helped him dress.
This was hardly the time for petty jealousies, Hattie thought as she laced up Thom’s boots. “Now take my arm,” Hattie said when she’d finished. “Lucy, come take his other arm.”
“I can stand on my own,” Thom objected.
“Your legs are bound to be wobbly,” Hattie said.
“You do know how to make a man feel small,” Thom complained, but he allowed their assistance.
Standing, Thom was indeed unsteady on his feet, but he shook free of their hold. “Let me walk a few laps about the room,” he said. “I need to think.”
“About what?” Lucy asked as he took one shaky step and then another toward the window.
“About what we do if someone intercepts us.”
“We have the letter Lucy brought,” Hattie said. “The one that urges you not to go north again because the Federals have fingered you as a Rebel spy.”
Thom nodded. “You have the letter, Lucy?”
“In my handbag,” she said.
“Good. If anyone stops us, let Hattie and I do the talking,” he said.
Lucy pressed her lips firmly together, clearly unhappy with this directive. At the same time, fear showed in her eyes. Spy work had been only a game for her, Hattie realized, a venturesome diversion. Now that they were in real trouble, her charm and chatter were of little use.
Thom steadied himself on the windowsill, then turned to face them. “I’m ready.”
“You’re certain?” Hattie said.
He nodded, and they set out from the room and down the hall. At the stairs, they met the Rebel officer Hattie had seen going into the room next door. He tipped his hat to Thom. “Good day, Mr. Welton. I see you’re feeling better.”
Hattie tried not to show her surprise at the officer’s addressing Thom by name. “How could I not be feeling better, Captain McCafferty, with these two lovely escorts?” He swayed a bit, and Hattie took hold of his arm. “My wife, Hattie, and my sister, Lucy, visiting from Baltimore.”
“Ah, you’ve come across the Potomac,” the captain said.
“Yes,” Hattie said. “Quite the journey these days.”
The captain smiled. “We hope that soon those inconveniences will be a thing of the past, once our troops take Washington. I assume you ladies have reported to the military governor, General Winder?”
“Oh, but we’ve never had—” Lucy began.
“Never had the pleasure of meeting General Winder,” Hattie interrupted. “But we’d be pleased to speak with him now that we know passes are required.”
“He’ll find their papers in order,” Thom said.
“I’m sure he will,” said the captain. “Just a formality, you know. If you like, I can make the proper introductions, as I’ve heard you’re not in the best of health.”
“A bit of ague is all,” Thom said, though his gaunt face betrayed him.
“Ladies, if you’ll proceed to the general’s headquarters, I’ll meet you there straightaway,” the captain said. “We’ll have no problem getting your paperwork in order.”
He proceeded down the hall to his room. Only when Hattie heard the rattle of his key in the door did she let out the breath she’d been holding.
“Damn it all,” Thom muttered. “We can’t risk going to Miss Van Lew now. Not if he’s going to be waiting for you two to show up at General Winder’s headquarters.”
“We’ll proceed there straightaway,” Hattie said, keeping her voice low. “When we’ve got our papers, we can plan our escape. Lucy, you know what to say?”
“I – I think so,” Lucy whispered. “I’ve brought a letter for my brother, warning him not to come north, because the Federals aim to arrest him for spying.”
“A letter from whom?” Thom said.
“From Mr. Pink—”
“From the Confederate officer to whom Mr. Welton reports,” Hattie interrupted. “You must under no circumstances mention any names.”
Lucy straightened. “I know. I just forgot.”
“I’d best go with you,” Thom said.
“No,” said Hattie. “That would only raise suspicions, given your condition. Get back to the room. You look white as a sheet.”
Thom shook his head. “I don’t know how I managed to wed such a stubborn woman.”
“I never represented myself as anything different,” Hattie said. “Now go.”