Love and War

'Never make a cavalryman. Too old.'

'He's a superb horseman, Beauty. Strong as any of us.'

Stuart's flashing smile relieved the brief tension, Whiskey helped, too. The three were soon chatting about Fitz's uncle, who had been superintendent at West Point for a time; Lee was scrapping with the Federals in the western reaches of the state.

Charles's glance kept returning to Augusta. She was dancing a gallopade with the same major, who in Charles's jealous imagination had become an exemplar of boring pomposity.

Fitz startled him by saying: 'Handsome little morsel.'

'Know her?'

'Certainly. She's a rich woman — modestly rich, anyway, thanks to her late husband. Her mother's people, the Duncans, are one of the oldest families on the Rappahannock. One of the finest, too.'

'Except for her damned traitorous uncle,' Stuart said. 'He sold out to the Africanizers, just like my father-in- law.'

'But you named your son in honor of old Cooke,' Fitz said.

'Flora's changed the boy's name at my insistence. He's no longer Philip; he's James — now and forever more.' There was ice in Stuart's smile, and the light of the true believer in his eyes. It bothered Charles.

Stuart had other admirers waiting. His departure, though friendly, left Charles with the feeling that rivalries of rank and state now divided them, and they both recognized it. The result was a kind of melancholy, enhanced when the orchestra started a new piece and the major once more claimed a dance from Augusta.

'If she's the one you want, go after her,' Fitz whispered.

'He outranks me.'

'No self-respecting Southerner would consider that an obstacle. Besides' — Fitz's voice went lower still — 'I know that man. He's a fool.' He thumped Charles on the shoulder. 'Go on, Bison, or the night'll be over and you'll have nothing to show for it.'

Wondering why he felt anxious and hesitant, Charles maneuvered his way around the edge of the floor where couples whirled and stirred the air. He caught Augusta watching him — with plea­sure and relief, unless he was imagining things. He quickly planned his strategy, waited till the music ended, then went charging to her side.

'Cousin Augusta! Major, do excuse the interruption — I had no idea I'd see my relative here tonight.'

'Your relative?' the First Virginia officer repeated in a voice that seemed to echo from a barrel. He frowned at his partner. 'You said nothing about relatives in the Palmetto State, Mrs. Barclay.'

'Didn't I? The Duncans have a host of them. And I haven't set eyes on dear Charles for two — it must be three years now. Major Beesley — Captain Main. You will excuse us, Major?' She smiled, taking Charles's arm and turning him away from the scowling Virginian.

'Beastly, did you say?' he whispered. The whiskey was bubbling in him; he felt hot and reacted to the touch of her breast against his sleeve.

'That should be his name. Feathers for brains and feet of lead. I thought I was doomed for the rest of the night.'

'Feathers and lead — that isn't Mr. Pope, is it?'

'No, but you certainly have a good memory.'

'Good enough so I remember not to call you Gus.'

She whacked his hand lightly with her fan. 'Be careful or I'll go back to Beastly.'

'I'll never allow that.' He glanced over his shoulder. 'He's hovering. Let's get some food.'

Charles handed Augusta a cup of punch, then started to fill two small plates. Several girls crowded in beside him. With stagey gestures and exaggerated diction, one was loudly reciting a satiric piece Charles had heard in camp. The Richmond Examiner had originally printed the so-called fable of the orang- outang named Old Abe:

'The orang-outang was chosen king, and this election created a great disturbance and revolution in the Southern states, for the beasts in that part of the country had imported from Africa a large number of black monkeys and had made slaves of them. And Old Abe the orang-outang had declared that this was an indignity offered to his family —'

Augusta said, 'Oh, I'm so sorry,' an instant before she appeared to stumble. She dumped punch all over the speaker's beige silk skirt.

The performer and her friends squealed and fumed. Augusta didn't show her wrath till she had pulled Charles away. 'Witless little fools. I swear, I love the South, but I surely don't love all Southerners. She'd never utter such remarks in my home. I'd take a horsewhip to her. My nigras are fine men.'

Charles carried the plates to a small balcony overlooking the busy street. Augusta sighed. 'I really don't belong at this party. The trip's too long, and most of the company intolerable.' She took a small toast wedge from the plate; the caviar glistened. 'Most,' she said again, gazing up at him; his height made it necessary. 'Why did you come, then?'

'They said they needed a good supply of women. I decided —' she paused — 'it was my patriotic duty to attend. One of my freedmen made the trip with me. Not that I couldn't have driven alone — Why are you smiling?' 'Because you're so damned — uh, blasted —' 'That's all right, I've heard the word damn before.' 'So confident. You have more brass than Jeb Stuart.' 'And it isn't proper in a woman?' 'I didn't say that, did I?' 'Then why take note of it?' 'Because it's — surprising.'

'Is that the best you can do — surprising? How do you really feel about it, Captain?' 'Don't get prickly with me. If you must know, I like it.' She blushed, which stunned him. She stunned him a second time by saying, 'I didn't mean to be prickly. It's a bad habit. As I think I told you when we met, I was never much of a belle, and I don't always conduct myself in the approved manner.' 'Nevertheless, I approve. Wholeheartedly.' 'Thank you, dear sir.' The barrier was up again. Did he unsettle her with his attentions? His own attraction to this pretty but unconventional widow definitely unsettled him.

Yet he wouldn't have left for anything. They stood in shy silence, watching the wagons and foot traffic below. Richmond swarmed with strangers these days, and he had heard that street crime was out of control. Robberies, murders, sexual assaults — The orchestra resumed. 'Will you dance with me, Augusta?'

The way he blurted it, with a slight hoarseness, alarmed her again. Well, we both have reason to be cautious. It's the wrong time and place for anything but light conversations and casual friendships.

She felt soft and exactly right in his arms. He had been so long without a woman, he consciously had to maintain distance between them or she would feel the result of his deprivation. They waltzed past a group of officers; Fitz Lee applauded him in pantomime. They waltzed past Huntoon, who stared; Charles nodded. They waltzed past the First Virginia officer, whom Charles acknowledged by calling out a greeting: 'Major Beastly.'

On they danced, Augusta laughing and limp against him for a moment. He felt her body through their clothing; slight plumpness made the contact more sensual.

With her eager consent, Charles kept her as a partner the rest of the evening, then walked her back to the boardinghouse where she had secured a room. Her freedman had been waiting outside the Spotswood with the buggy, but she had sent him on to sleep. Charles was glad for the extra time alone with her. His train left at three, nearly a whole hour yet.

The presentation saber bumped his leg lightly as they walked. The streets were quiet, empty of all but a few furtive figures or occasional carriages bound home from the ball. In some noisy saloons they passed, crowds of civilians and soldiers still roistered. But no one bothered them; Charles's height and obvious strength deterred that sort of thing. Augusta seemed to like sheltering on his arm.

'I must tell you the truth, Charles,' she said when they reached the dark stoop of the boardinghouse. She took a step up, bringing her eyes level with his. 'This evening we have talked about everything from my crops to General Lee's character, but we've missed the one subject we ought to discuss.'

'What's that?'

'The real reason I traveled so far. I am a patriot, but not that much of a one, thank you.' She drew a breath, as if ready to dive into water. 'I hoped you might be here.'

'I —' Don't entangle yourself. He ignored the inner warning. 'I hoped the same about you.'

'I'm forward, aren't I?'