Read The Rebel Spy Online

Authors: April London

Tags: #Historical

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BOOK: The Rebel Spy
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James sucked in a breath and nodded. “You have my word.”

Tears dripped down her face and onto James’s hands.

“Tam?” Davis pressed her for an answer.

She was left without a choice. “Promise me, Davey, you’ll read to her every night. Tuck her in.”

“I’ll even ask Ma to start teaching her letters,” Davis whispered.

“I’ll pack her things.” Tamsyn pulled her hands away and covered her face, muffling the sobs that shook her shoulders.

Chapter Eleven

Friday, April 21, 1865

“We were lucky.” James folded the ticket and slid it into the pocket inside his jacket. They stood on the station platform waiting for the man to bring their luggage off the train.

He really does look handsome in his uniform.
The image of him naked in the creek flashed in her mind and she bit back a smile.
Handsome out of it too.

“How so?” For the last two days she’d been in close quarters with the man. On the train they’d laughed and talked well into the night.

“You haven’t travelled much by train, have you?”

The Boston train station was packed with people who scurried by, bumping into one another without much thought.

“No.” She smoothed her hand over the dress. In Philadelphia there’d been a wait before changing trains. James had taken her shopping.

Tamsyn smoothed the dress again. He’d insisted she needed new gowns.
Needed.

They’d put Davis and Elizabeth on a train to Johnson City early on Wednesday morning. Elizabeth had merrily kissed her mother’s cheek and bid her goodbye.

Tamsyn stood on the platform crying long after the train had gone. James promised her again he’d arrange to have her on the first train he could manage.

The first leg of their trip to Boston left Lynchburg just before noon on the same day.

“Are you sure, James, your family won’t mind?” She’d asked the question a dozen times already but she needed to hear him reassure her again.

“James! James Steele!”

Both of them turned.

“Lars.” James grinned.

The family resemblance was uncanny.

A tall man made his way through the crowd. He sported the same black hair, cut much shorter, and the same squared jaw. He wore a small moustache that Tamsyn thought gave him the look of a scoundrel.

“My message was received.” James stuck out his hand. His brother ignored his hand and wrapped James in a hug.

“Your message was received.” His brother grinned back. “Mother is in a tizzy waiting for you at home. I thought we’d have to call the doctor for a sedative last night. Now, who do we have here?”

“Lars, this is Tamsyn Moody.” James offered the introduction with haste. “Tamsyn, my brother, Lawrence Steele.”

Lars inclined his head at her.

“I think James should have been less vague in his message when he mentioned bringing a guest.” Lars lifted an eyebrow at James.

“The man is here with the luggage.” James ignored his brother. “Let’s be on our way.”

Lars offered the man a few coins to follow them to the coach where a driver waited.

“James, is there a problem?”

“Not at all.” He helped her inside.

She sat on the plush seat.

Lars could be heard speaking to the driver before he joined them inside. “Mother is already planning your welcome home dinner party.”

The horse drawn coach jerked to a start. James groaned. “Are Mother and Father well?” James ran his hand through his hair.

“They are.” Lars nodded. “Parkman and Billy are eager for you to get home.”

“My nephews,” James offered. “They were babies when I left.”

“Parkman is eight and Billy is six.” Lars smiled when she tried to hide her yawn behind her hand.

“Have you and Hester added to the family?” James asked.

“No.” Lars looked at Tamsyn and ignored his brother. “I’d like to know how you came to be in my brother’s company.”

“Circumstances at Appomattox brought her under my…” James struggled for the right word. “Protection.”

Lars lifted a dark eyebrow, and she bit her bottom lip.

“I’ll explain in detail later, Lars.” James shifted in the seat and ran his hand through his hair again.

“It must be a good story.” Lars’ eyes twinkled. “Perhaps one for everyone to hear at dinner.”

The coach turned onto a residential street and jerked to a stop. “We’re there,” James said.

“The coach driver’s son is learning the ropes.” Lars grunted. “If I’d known more about your guest, James, I’d have asked for a smoother driver.”

Lars opened the door. The wave of voices crushed in around them. Lars moved out of the coach first.

James leaned forward and pressed the back of his hand against her knee. “Everything will work out,” he offered before following his brother out.

The voices ground to a halt, and James’s hand appeared, ready to assist her out of the coach. She took a deep breath and grasped his hand. Clutching her skirts with one hand, Tamsyn descended the step with care and looked up. A large brick town home towered in front of them.

The group ceased talking. She pressed closer to James for support.

“May I present Tamsyn Moody.” He squeezed her hand.

She forced a tight smile while the members of the Steele family gave her a very hard once-over. Her gaze stopped to rest on the strawberry blonde head of a girl in the back of the group.

Tamsyn followed James’s broad uniform-clad shoulders into the house. She fought the urge to reach out to him and smoothed the front of her dress once more.

“You’ll stain it if you aren’t careful,” the girl with the strawberry blonde hair whispered from behind her.

Tamsyn turned and the girl smiled at her. “I’m Abigail.”

The younger sister.

James had gone over the various members of his family during the train ride.

“Thank you.” Tamsyn returned her bright smile and reached to tidy her hair. She’d been surprised by her bright appearance amongst all the dark hair.

“It looks nice.” Abigail moved closer to Tamsyn when the family stopped in the foyer.

“Have all the trunks sent to my room,” James told the butler who held the door for them.

“James, I tidied up the room on the end for your guest,” Mrs. Steele called over her shoulder from the dining room.

“Thank you, Mother,” James said.

“Lawrence,” a tall woman called from the top of the stairs. Only the bottom half of a very dark dress was visible. “The boys would like for you to tuck them in.”

“Coming, Hester.” Lars smiled and excused himself.

“Won’t the boys join us for dinner?” James asked.

“Hester fed them earlier.” Abigail smiled at her brother from next to Tamsyn.

“Abby.” James reached out to hug his younger sister. “You’ve turned into a beautiful young woman.”

Abigail blushed under her brother’s attention.

“Come along,” Mrs. Steele called from the dining room where the staff was already setting dinner on the table.

“Yes, Mother.” James offered Tamsyn and Abigail each an arm. “Shall we? I’ll be flanked by the most beautiful women in the Boston.”

“You better hope Hester doesn’t overhear you.” Abigail giggled.

Tamsyn allowed James to lead her into the dining room. The room glowed in the soft candlelight. Her gaze rolled over the silver lining the table and she drew in a sharp breath.

“Are you all right, Tamsyn?” James asked.

“Um.” Tamsyn wasn’t certain why the silver shocked her. It was a common silver setting.

James pulled out her chair. He touched her waist before he moved to seat her. “What is it?” he asked softly.

“The silver.” Tamsyn ducked her head. “It’s the same as my mother’s.”

“Ah.” James smiled and moved aside while Tamsyn settled into the cushioned chair.

“James, I must confess, we are a bit shocked.You should have been more clear in your telegram about your guest. We thought it might be George.” Mr. Steele smiled.

Lars sauntered into the room, a tall, thin woman sharp on his heels. “Abby hoped it was George, anyway. Mrs. Moody, allow me to introduce my wife, Hester Steele.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Tamsyn inclined her head and smiled.

Hester’s lip curled upward, her teeth visible with her snarling smile. Her eyes narrowed and Lars urged her to her seat while a creamy clam chowder was poured into their bowls by a petite maid.

“I didn’t have much time when I jotted the message down. I apologize.” James smiled at his mother.

“Very well. Robert sends his best.” Mrs. Steele picked her spoon and it seemed to signal to everyone else so dinner could begin.

Tamsyn tasted the chowder while the conversation carried forward around her. She sipped, trying to recall every lesson on dinner etiquette her mother had taught her.

James’s leg pressed against hers under the table. The family talked about Robert, the sole Steele missing from the household.

“Did you whip the dirty rebels into submission, James?”

The question caused Tamsyn to jerked her head up. Hester tossed her a smug look across the table and the other’s fell silent.

“Hester, dear, I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner conversation.” Lars coughed and reached for his wine.

“But they are dirty, are they not, James?” Hester pressed forward. “Everyone in town says they don’t bathe and very few of them can read.”

“James.” Mrs. Steele ignored her daughter-in-law’s comments. “I’ve planned a dinner party for Wednesday evening.”

“Mother, you shouldn’t have.” James pushed his bowl away.

“She’s invited
everyone.
” Hester smirked, her faded blue eyes focused on the bowl in front of her.

“I wanted to officially welcome you back home.” Mrs. Steele smiled. “I didn’t imagine you might not be ready for it. I’d cancel but I sent the invitations out yesterday.”

“Ms. Moody.” Mr. Steele smiled down the table at her. “How did you come to meet our James?”

Tamsyn’s breath caught and she turned to James. They fell silent as a pastry dessert was served and coffee poured.

“Yes, Ms. Moody, tell us.” Lars’ eyes sparkled with humor once the help slipped out of the room.

“James was there when I needed someone.” She wasn’t sure how much to tell them. “I was attacked in the forest and he rode to my rescue.” She offered a smile.

“One of your own attacked you?” Hester pressed.

James groaned with pleasure. “Mother, the coffee is wonderful.”

Tamsyn sipped her coffee. The strong flavor washed over her with a jolt. “It is very good,” she admitted.

“Mother makes her own blend,” James bragged. “She ruined me for other coffee.”

Tamsyn hurried to cover her mouth, losing her battle with the yawn trying to come out for the last few minutes.

Mrs. Steele rang a small bell by her side and the help appeared, ready to clear the dishes away.

“James, will you join us in the study?” Mr. Steele rose from his chair.

“In a moment.” James nodded and stood. “I’ll show Tamsyn to her room first.”

James pressed his hand against her lower back, guiding her back into the foyer where the stairs led up.

“How far away will you be?” she asked as they ascended the stairs.

“Just downstairs, in the study.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I meant, tonight,” she clarified in a hushed tone. They reached the landing at the top and James turned her to face him. She kept her face down, heat rushing up her cheeks, shocked by her own boldness.

He lifted her chin with his finger. “Just down the hall. You need only to call out if you need me.” He dipped his head, pressing a light kiss on her lips. “Have I mentioned how stunning you look in this dress?”

Desire raced along her spine. She moved closer to him. A sharp gasp pulled them from their intimate moment.

Hester stood on the top step. Her mouth agape. She turned and fled back down the stairs.

“She doesn’t like me,” Tamsyn whispered.

“Hester doesn’t like anyone.” He pushed open the first door. “This is my room. You’re just down the hall, across from Abby.”

She followed him down the darkened hall to another door. He held it open and she stepped inside. An oil lamp illuminated the tiny guest room.

“She thought you were George. This is the room he always takes. If it’s too small, I can arrange for—”

“No.” Tamsyn smiled. “This is fine.”

****

“She’s nice.”

He turned to find his sister at the top of the stairs. “I’m glad you think so.”

Abigail placed a kiss on his cheek and continued down the hall toward her room. He recalled Abby had been a short, chunky girl of twelve when he left.

He hurried down the stairs. His mother’s soft voice floated from the kitchens where she discussed the next day’s menu with the cook.

Mary Steele smiled at him in the doorway and beckoned him forward, bidding goodnight to the cook. “I’m so glad you’re home, James.” Mrs. Steele hugged her son.

He returned her hug. “I’m glad to be home, Mother.”

Her hair had gone entirely gray in his absence. “She’s a lovely girl.” She sliced her son a look from the corner of her eye and slipped her hand into his elbow.

He walked with her toward the back of the house where the master bedrooms were located on the first floor. She waited for him to speak.

“She is. General Grant asked I keep her close for a time to ensure her safety. Good night, Mother.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

She nodded. “Tell your father not to be too long.”

James stepped across the hall and into the parlor where he’d gathered with his father and brother for years for a glass of scotch and cigars before retiring for the night.

“Hester…”

“I saw them!”

He stopped short in the open doorway. Hester stood with her hands on her hips in front of her husband. Her face blotted with anger. Hester’s eyes widened when her gaze landed on him in the doorway and then narrowed. She straightened and shot her husband a sharp glare. “Do something,” she ordered Lars before stalking from the room. Lars let out a heavy sigh and walked to the dark cabinet in the corner of the room.

“Damn, why is Hester so pissy tonight?” Robert slid into the room. The youngest Steele man had only recently begun to join his father and brothers for a drink and smoke at night.

BOOK: The Rebel Spy
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