On to Richmond (52 page)

             
When the music stopped, he said nothing, just watched her quietly.  When it started up again, almost immediately he swept her once more onto the floor.  They were one as they glided from one dance to the other.  Carrie had no need to talk.  She didn’t want to break the magic.  She didn’t want reality to dash her hopes one more time.  She was giving herself a Christmas present. 

             
Finally the music died away.  They had completely ignored the call to the supper table.  All around them they could hear guests calling for their wraps and carriages. 

             
Carrie, breathing hard, stepped back. 

             
Robert stepped back as well but didn’t release his hold on her shoulders.  Finally he spoke, his voice registering an intensity she had never heard.  “I would like to talk to you.  May I come by tomorrow morning?”

             
Carrie nodded.  The magic of the evening still had her in its grip.  Perhaps it would continue. 

             
Robert continued to watch her, and then his mouth tightened with frustration.  He took her hand and led her through the throng of people. 

             
Carrie followed willingly. 

             
Robert pushed open the door to the study and pulled her into the dimly lit room, cozy from the heat of the flickering fire.  Still not speaking, he led her to the large window overlooking the city.  They stood silently for a few moments as they watched sparse snowflakes dance in the lights along the street. 

             
Finally Robert turned her to face him and gazed down at her.  “I’ve missed you, Carrie.”

             
Carrie met his eyes.  “And I’ve missed you, Robert.”  She knew her face was saying much more.  She didn’t care. 

             
Robert continued to stare at her and was obviously unsure of what to say.  Carrie sympathized with him.  What was there to say?  She had turned down his proposal of marriage.  It would be insane to deny the magic that still pulsed between them, but it hadn’t been enough before.  Why should it be now?

             
A sudden spark from the fire exploded and shot up the chimney.  Robert glanced toward the fire and then seemed to make up his mind.  Drawing her toward him gently, he watched her closely.

             
Carrie did not resist.  The magic of the evening held her captive.  She closed her eyes and leaned forward slightly as Robert’s lips claimed hers tenderly.  Her whole body trembled as his hold on her tightened.  His lips sent trails of fire down her spine.  She could no more control her response to him than she could control what was happening in her country.  She shuddered slightly as her arms reached up to encircle his neck and her lips sent their own message. 

             
A sudden noise in the hallway startled them.  They drew apart simultaneously and then just looked at each other.  Carrie fought to control her trembling.  She knew she needed to regain control before someone walked in on them.  The sound of footsteps heading toward the study said that would be soon. 

             
Robert bowed and moved away, still holding her with his eyes.  “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said gravely.  Then he turned and walked away. 

Carrie turned away from the window in disappointment.

              Thomas watched her from his window chair.  “He’ll be here,” he said comfortingly.  “Something must be holding him up.”

             
Carrie shook her head.  “It’s almost noon.  He must have changed his mind about coming.”  She tried to hide the bitter disappointment in her voice.  She turned and took a seat far from the window.  She had been silly to hope again.  Silly to lie awake most of the night, dreaming things would have changed.  Silly to dance each dance over and over in her mind.   Silly to relive their magical kiss.

             
Determinedly, she brought her thoughts back to the room.  “I’ve had a wonderful Christmas with you, Father.  Thank you so much.”  The clock struck noon, and she rose to head for the stairs.  “We will have to leave soon if we want to get all our visiting done.  I will get my wraps.”

             
Thomas played along.  “The Clays are expecting us for dinner around five o’clock.  We should have plenty of time to make all our stops.” 

             
Carrie nodded and moved toward the stairs.  Just then there was a sharp rap on the door.  Carrie started and then held her breath as Micah came from the back to answer it.  She had not heard a carriage.  Hope began to flutter once more.

             
“I have a message for Miss Carrie Cromwell,” a strange voice said.

             
Carrie moved to the door.  “Thank you, Micah.”  Then she turned to the young boy in uniform standing before her, his face intense with his mission.  “I am Carrie Cromwell.  What can I do for you?”

             
The boy looked at her admiringly and then held out a thin envelope.  “Lieutenant Borden asked me to deliver this,” he said.  He hesitated a moment and then blurted out, “He said the prettiest girl in Richmond would be the one to claim it.  He was right!”  Then he flushed crimson.

             
Carrie smiled gently and reached out to take the envelope.  Already, her hopes were withering.  “Thank you,” she said graciously.  “And Merry Christmas.”  Then she closed the door, stood in the entryway, and stared at the letter. 

             
“What is it?” Thomas called.

             
Carrie walked woodenly into the parlor.  “A note from Robert.”   Her father said nothing, but she knew he was waiting.  Slowly she tore open the envelope and pulled out the single sheet. 

             
My dear Carrie,

             
              It is with great disappointment and sorrow that I write this letter.  I have been called away to join Jackson on the front.  I am leaving early in the morning.  My heart longs to talk with you, but I’m afraid that is impossible.  Thank you for a wonderful evening of magic.  I will carry you in my heart.  Merry Christmas.

             
                                                                                    Love,

             
                                                                                    Robert

             
Carrie read the first three sentences out loud to her father and then carefully folded the letter and put it in her pocket.  “I believe I hear the carriage being called.  We’d best be on our way.”

It wasn’t until late that night that Carrie let the tears come that had been choking her throat all day long.  Somehow she had managed to hold them back all day
while she smiled brightly as they visited from house to house.  The effort had left her exhausted.  After kissing her father goodnight, she had escaped to her room.  Too exhausted to prepare for sleep, she had fallen across her bed.  It had taken only moments for the hot tears to push past the barriers she had erected.  Finally, too drained to even cry any more, she lay quietly on her bed, her heart squeezed with pain. 

             
She heard the clock chiming midnight before she moved again.  She walked over to the desk in her room and found a piece of paper and pen.  She began to write. 

             
Dear Robert,

             
I have a confession to make.  I love you with all my heart.  In spite of the fact you have hatred and anger in your heart toward the black people I love so much - I love you.  I have tried not to.  I have told myself that I didn’t.  But the truth is inescapable.  You are the only man who has ever captured my heart, and I will love you forever. 

             
I am convinced, however, that marriage between us would never work.  The tensions and misunderstandings would someday destroy the love that burns so brightly between us now.  I could not stand that.  I would rather endure the pain I am suffering now than watch that happen.  My heart could not stand it.

             
I have searched my heart deeply tonight.  And I have come to accept the truth.  I merely thought I had let you go.  I didn’t really.  I was sure you would change your mind - that your heart would change and we could be together.  I have been living my life - but not as fully as I should because I have been waiting for you.  I cannot continue to live that way. 

             
I have reached a decision tonight.  Once again I have completely given you up.  It is the only way I can live.  Given enough time, I am sure my heart will move past its love for you.  I love you too much to continue seeing you.  Please do not make any attempts to communicate with me.  If you love me, you will heed my wishes.

             
I hope for you a wonderful life.

             
                                                                      Love,

             
                                                                      Carrie

              Carrie wiped the tears away from her eyes as she finished the letter and carefully sealed and addressed the envelope.  Unbidden, a picture of Robert on the front, suffering cold and fatigue, sprang to her mind.  For several long minutes, she held the letter in her hand and stared it. 

             
Then she stood and moved toward the crackling fire that still flickered in her fireplace.  Kneeling, she held the letter to the flames and then stepped back as the letter that had poured from her heart crumbled into ashes.

             
Then she prepared for bed and fell into a troubled sleep. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

             
January 1, 1862 dawned clear and unseasonably mild in Winchester, Virginia. 

             
Robert took deep breaths of the fresh morning air and stretched as he came out of his tent.  All around him there was movement as the eighty-five hundred men Jackson had mustered for his winter campaign prepared for the march to come that day.  Spirits were high, and confidence was strong that their campaign to take control of the western portion of Virginia would be successful. 

             
Robert splashed water onto his face to wake himself up and then moved over to the cooking fires.  It took him only a few minutes to cook a piece of beef on the tip of his sword.  Hardtack and a cup of coffee finished his breakfast.  As he ate, he pondered what was to come. 

             
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” a voice said cheerfully. 

             
“Good morning, Hobbs.”  Robert had been pleased to discover Private Hobbs had been assigned to his regiment.  His wounds were completely healed, and he was still as dedicated to the cause as ever.  He had proudly informed Robert that he had signed up for the duration of the war.

             
“Hey, look, Lieutenant.  I won the contest this morning.  I got me three!”  Hobbs lifted his coffee for him to inspect it.