As he eyed the stores they passed, he noticed several things. Mostly that Ada was a beautiful lady, but kept her beauty locked up in that tight bun, stark color dresses and no jewelry. Here, where she wasn’t under a military rule, she dressed more like a lady and he found that appealing, even though it wasn’t easy for her. The dress she wore, and it was the one she wore two days ago, looked like dresses he’d seen before the war and it showed mending. Apparently, she only had two dresses. Her hair was still pulled back, though now the bun was a mess of braids wound up in the back. She wore no earbobs, though he swore he could see holes in her lobes for them. All in all, she looked presentable, but he’d love to see her truly attired in the current styles, so the dressmaker’s shop caught his attention.
The bell above the door rang when they entered. The shop was large, with bolts of material on one side of the room, stacked on tables, with the other half filled with chairs, dressing screens and small tables where pastries sat and tea cups waited. But mostly important—the building was warm, heated with a warming stove placed near the center.
He went to warm his hands and noticed Ada, rubbing hers together, had floated over to the rack of silks. Given any other time, he’d order her a dress or two to have made. A time before the war, when he had thrown all away, simply to escape his heart.
“Good afternoon.”
He glanced up and found the proprietress standing nearby, a grin on her face. She wasn’t a young woman, years of experience etched into her face. But her eyes were warm and welcoming, a sight he hadn’t experienced much since joining the fight.
“Bonjour, madam.” He smiled. “Pardon our interruption of your day, but the cold drove us to seek any warm haven.”
The woman nodded. “Entirely understandable. Welcome to Madame Florissant’s Boutique. Your accent, ‘tis francais, n’est pas?”
He snorted. “Oui, merci beaucoup.”
“We have little of that here, now that the war is continued.” She sighed. Searching the table of accessories, she pulled a gray and navy plaid wool scarf and looped it over his head. “For the cold, monsieur.”
“Ah, merci, but I fail to have anything to pay you with.” The army prison had taken anything he had, failing to return it on his departure, though, that was an unplanned journey. Yet, it still irritated him.
“It is of little concern. I’d like to give it to you, for the cold, of course.”
He nodded. The North wasn’t so cold in nature, he decided. His gaze returned to Ada. She milled through the leather gloves, her fingertips skimming across the tops of them. Again, he noticed the outfit she wore, along with the lines on her face. He wondered what she was thinking, for her jawline was rigid, probably from gritting her teeth, he decided. All around her were silks and laces and ribbons.
“Madame Florissant, may I have a word with you?”
Ada’s nerves were on edge. Shops like this only reminded her of what her decision, to be a doctor and to help the Union Army, had made her give up. The Army needed any trained doctors it could find. The fact she was a woman, though, kept her away from actually doctoring the soldiers, except…
She shook her head. No point on dwelling on what was done.
The gloves displayed on the table were lovely, but not useful in a hospital, nor on the warfront. However, the stack of men’s leather gloves sitting to the right, grabbed her attention. Her patient had bundled for the weather, thanks to Leonard’s butler who’d equipped the man in his employer’s spare coat. It made Ada want to giggle, that Leonard had clothed the Southerner, but she stifled the noise edging up her throat. The wool coat was sorely needed, as was the hat stuck on his head. However, he lacked gloves. His hands looked rather chaffed when she gazed at them, and nothing could make one colder than to lack a hat and gloves. So, while he conversed with the owner, she sneaked a pair of gloves, eying them on size, guessing they’d fit, and nodded to the young attendant that stood in the shadows. Slipping her the money for them, she pushed her purchase into her coat pocket and smiled.
It was then she noticed he was looking straight at her. She flattened her skirt, a nervous habit she’d picked up somewhere. The need to escape the finery made her miss Francois, who stood in her exit route. She ran right into him.
“I take it, my lady, you are warmed enough to continue?”
She nodded, her tongue in her throat. Why did this man, the enemy, make her heart skip a beat?
As they walked out of the shop, a loud commotion across the street flared up. Ada narrowed her gaze to find the source and there it was, plain as day. A marching group of freemen, beating a makeshift drum and chanting to set the slaves free. The scene excited her, for she longed for abolition, until the man politely escorting her, the one who held her elbow, tensed.
“This happen often?” he queried.
She cleared her throat. “A little more, since the war started, I’d gather.”
He growled. “Well, ain’t a sight I’d see down home.”
That made her snort. “No, I’d bet not.”
“You do realize, slavery is a necessary evil, right?”
“No, I don’t. We get along just fine up here, with no men in chains and whips in our belts,” she argued.
His eyes swept over her, as he shook his head. “I’d like to see that, you with a whip and all.” He sighed deeply. “We know it’s not any better than holding an alligator by the tail, and if you all in the North had a more practical solution, we’d be
