Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia (19 page)

Hunter did not answer until he had climbed up
beside her. Then he glanced down at her as if the word
pleasure
was
foreign to his ears. “Business.” His tone conveyed she would hear no more about
the purpose or significance of his presence in Richmond. “And what about you?”
He slapped the horse with the reins.

Andrea looked up at him confused.

“Business or pleasure? This is not a part of
Richmond where I would expect to see you.”

“I-I was just visiting a friend.” Andrea
realized Hunter could have been watching her. For all she knew, he had been
following her. She remembered Daniel’s words about his brother. He would wait
until the time is right …

“Without an escort? Have you no regard for your
reputation?”

Andrea tried to make her voice sound cordial.
“Do you regard all women with suspicion, Captain? Or just me?”

“Why must you think I regard you with suspicion,
Miss Marlow?” He gave a laugh that sounded forced. “Could it be because you
seem to have fallen from the sky into Richmond with no one to vouch for your
reputation other than your aunt, whose background is not above suspicion
itself? Or because I find you walking through Richmond in a suspicious area of
town without an escort? Or because—” Hunter paused and looked down at her hand.
“Because you wear the ring of a dead Federal officer. Shall I go on?”

Andrea looked up at his face in surprise and
then down at her hand. Mechanically her gaze shifted to Hunter’s right hand,
where she saw a ring almost identical to the one she wore. Now she knew the
reason for his sudden callousness. What she didn’t know was how she would weave
her way out of this web of deceit.

“Daniel gave me this, uh, right before he died.”
She took a deep breath while twisting the ring. “He … that is, we—”

“I find it a bit odd that a loyal citizen of the
South would continue to honor the memory of a Union officer.” Hunter’s hands
clenched the reins more tightly. “Perhaps you view it as a trophy? My brother
was a good man, despite the color of the uniform he wore. He did not deserve to
be used in a game of deceit.”

Andrea took a sharp breath, realizing that
Hunter believed she had used Daniel to gather information for the Confederacy.
She wasn’t sure how to respond. Though relieved to hear that Hunter believed
she was a loyal Southerner, she did not wish him to think she dishonored
Daniel. “It’s just that … well … Daniel was a friend before he was an enemy.”

Hunter glanced over at her with a confused look
on his face. “So how is it that you knew Daniel? You never had the chance to
tell me.”

Although his voice sounded gentler now, Andrea
knew it was a ploy. Things were not adding up in his mind.

“Well, how did you happen to be brothers? You
never had the chance to tell me.”

Hunter glanced down at her with a look of
annoyance. “Do you always answer a question with a question?

“Does it seem like I do?” Andrea grinned at her
joke, though it was obvious Hunter did not share in the amusement.

“My father, Joseph Hunter, died when I was
young. My mother remarried James Delaney and I got a baby brother, Daniel.
Satisfied?”

“You were close?” Andrea heard the unmistakable
sadness in his voice.

“My mother and James were about as fond of
children as they were of learning how to be horse breeders. They left Hawthorne
to be closer to his family in New York when I was ten, leaving us with our
grandfather.”

So that’s why Daniel fought for the Union,
Andrea thought. His father’s family was from the North.

“Anyway, my grandfather knew I would eventually
take over Hawthorne, and raised us until he died. I was eighteen, then. Daniel
was twelve.”

“So
you
raised Daniel.”

He shrugged. “I did what I could.”

Andrea stared at the ring on her finger. “He
never told me you were brothers, but I could tell he respected you greatly …
admired you.”

“The feeling was mutual.” Glancing sideways at
her, he must have seen her staring at his ring. “It says: “
Dare All for
Sacred Honor
.”

“My grandfather had them each made.” He cleared
his throat in such a way then that Andrea knew he was getting ready to change
the subject. She instinctively braced herself.

“I’ve often wondered what Daniel meant when he
insisted there were things I did not know.”

His voice sounded casual, yet Andrea’s heart
pounded in her ears. Hunter had obviously replayed the scene in Fredericksburg
over in his mind and was not satisfied with the end result. “Who … who can
know? He was in a great deal of pain. Perhaps he did not know what he was
saying.”

“Yes, indeed,” Hunter said, as he turned his
head and stared at her. “Who can know?”

Andrea looked
away and did not speak. She could not. The man beside her was back to that
hostile, aloof composure that concealed his every thought. A more overbearing
and intimidating man she had never encountered.

“You still haven’t told me how you met him.”

Andrea tried to hold her hands steady. She
vaguely remembered Daniel telling her he had spent some time in Richmond. “I
met Daniel here … in Richmond a few years ago,” she said. “I went to school
here. And then when I decided to come South, I—”

“Used him,” Hunter answered disdainfully.

Andrea’s breath caught in her throat, and both
of her hands turned to fists. She did not speak for fear of saying something
she would regret. It seemed to her the horse moved in slow motion, else the
street grew longer, or time stood still. Out of boredom from the lack of
conversation, her gaze drifted over to Hunter’s strong hands as they expertly
held the reins, then to his well-muscled forearms disappearing into coat
sleeves. She shuddered at the power they conveyed and looked away.

“Are you chilled, Miss Marlow?”

Expecting to see a look of mockery when she
glanced up at his face, Andrea was surprised to find that ridicule was
apparently not his intent. He appeared honestly concerned, his gray eyes soft
and sympathetic.

“No, I’m … I’m fine.” Andrea stuttered the
words, wondering why his considerate side caused her heart to beat more
tumultuously than his callous one had.

The two rode in silence for what seemed like
hours to Andrea, though it was but the distance of two blocks.

“This is it, is it not?” Hunter pointed with his
eyes and turned toward the side of the street.

Andrea nodded but did not bother to respond nor
ask how he knew. Instead, she practically leaped from her seat before he even
pulled the horse to a halt.

“Perhaps we can have a more lengthy discussion
in the future, Miss Marlow.” He leaned over and placed his hand on her arm
before she could fully make her escape. “I’m in town a few days.”

“The ride was quite lovely.” Andrea averted her
eyes, not wanting him to see the fear she knew must be reflected there. “I
thank you for the escort.”

“Are you trying to change the subject, Miss
Marlow?”

“Does it seem
like I am?” His reaction was as she predicted. He scowled
and shook his head, then flicked the reins on the
horse’s back and drove away.

Andrea’s smile faded as she turned toward the
house. She had to leave Richmond!

And soon!

Chapter
18

“Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to
deceive.”

– Sir Walter Scott

Captain Hunter cursed without looking up from
the map he studied when Private Malone knocked and stuck his head in the door.

“Sorry, sir, but you said you wanted to see
anyone the pickets stopped from now on.”

“What do you have?” Hunter snapped from behind
his desk.

“Just a young boy traveling alone. Says he’s
lost, what with the weather. We can send him on his way if you like.”

Hunter felt
inclined to do just that. A soupy mix of fog had moved in, making it impossible
to see three feet in any direction. An interrogation would likely not be worth the
interruption. “Where did he say he was heading?”

“Uh, he didn’t quite say.” Malone paused as if
gauging Hunter’s reaction. “He wants to know by what authority we halted and
questioned him. Says he shouldn’t need a pass nor answer to people while traveling
in his own country.”

“Is that so?” Hunter looked up for the first
time. “Well, I would be delighted, and indeed it is my duty, to enlighten him
that he is traveling in
my
country now. By all means, send him up.”

By the time word passed down to the pickets,
more than a few minutes had passed. Hunter resumed reading a captured dispatch,
comparing its contents to former notations he had placed on a map.

Malone brought the boy in, saluted, and made a
hasty retreat. Hunter did not realize another person was in the room until he
looked up from his communication and saw the youth staring at a large map on
the wall. When their eyes finally met, the moment of recognition was
simultaneous. The boy looked instantly down, and Hunter let out an oath.

Hunter continued to stare at the figure,
blinking as he tried to allow his brain to catch up to what his eyes were
seeing. There could be no mistake. The youth looked identical to the one he had
seen from across the stream almost a year earlier. But now he was close enough
to recognize the green, almond-shaped eyes and feminine lips, the same ones he
had last seen just three months ago in Richmond.

“So.” He
stood up and crossed his arms, glowering at her. She remained stoically still,
looking him squarely in the eyes, doing a good job of not betraying the terror
he sensed she felt. Hunter walked around her slowly, trying to figure out how
this supposed Southern aristocrat had fooled him and so many others. “It
appears I finally have the opportunity to meet the war’s most famous gadfly.”

“I was under the assumption that honor belonged
to you.”

Hunter looked at her severely for a moment, then
continued, his voice losing its casual tone. “Where are you going ? What is
your business here?”

“I am going—” Hunter watched her eyes flick up
to his and then to the floor. He could tell she had been considering telling an
outright lie and thought better of it. “I’m going to visit my cousin north of
here.”

“Dressed as a boy?”

She shrugged and met his stare with a
corresponding look of defiance. “I’ve grown tired of Richmond. And I … I have
no escort.”

“You have no escort, so you dressed as a boy,”
Hunter rubbed his chin. “I don’t believe that’s an option most women would
choose.”

“Your memory is short, Captain. I believe I told
you before, I am not like most women.”

“As to the former, unfortunately for you, it is
not,” he answered. “And as for the latter, yes, I believe we are quite in
agreement on that point.”

 Despair, disappointment, and even a little
humiliation, showed clearly on her face. Hunter swept his eyes over the image
of her ragged and well-worn clothes. His mind drifted back to the ball in
Richmond, then to Fredericksburg and his brother’s final devotional words to
her.

“Would you
care to extend me the courtesy of telling me your real name?”

“I have no desire to extend that courtesy, nor
is it my duty or obligation to do so.” She turned her back on him and began to
rudely tap her toe.

“Well, I
guess I can call you Maryann. You are accustomed to that name, are you not?”
The room filled with silence. “Or do you prefer Miss Marlow?”

She turned back toward him. “My name is Andrew
Sinclair.”

Hunter noticed her voice did not betray that her
legs trembled beneath her, but her next statement confirmed that she felt them.
“Do you mind if I sit?” She did not wait for an answer, but found the composure
to lower herself into the chair in front of his desk as elegantly as a queen
takes her place on the throne.

Hunter
muttered under his breath, and proceeded to sit down as well. “I suppose you
are proud of your deceit, Miss Marlow. You almost got away with it.”

She gazed over his head into the space beyond,
refusing to look into his eyes. “Like I told you, it’s Sinclair, so I’m not
sure I know what you mean.” She sat arrow straight, her hands folded gracefully
on her lap as if she were a lady of distinction attending a tea party, not a
spy being questioned by a Confederate officer.

“Oh, stop
this game. You know what I mean.” Hunter banged his fist on the desk. When he
failed to get a reaction, he took a deep breath to get his emotions back under
control. “Are you a citizen or soldier spy? To whom do you report?”

She leaned forward in her chair. “I’m afraid I
decline to answer, and I can’t believe an officer would insult me by asking
it.” She stood and turned her back to him.

“You
evidently don’t have the good sense to realize how much trouble you are in,”
Hunter said as he walked around his desk to stand in front of her. “Nor how
much trouble you have caused the Confederacy.”

“You flatter me once again, sir,” she responded.
“A compliment from a foe is worth a dozen from a friend.”

Hunter frowned and paced the room, his hands
clenched behind his back.  “Miss, you may be under the illusion that this is a
game, but you are being interrogated by an officer. And if your friends have
not advised you of the necessity of discretion, then perhaps, out of
consideration for your youth and inexperience, I should. I would not even have
requested this interview had you not given my pickets trouble with your impudence.”

Hunter paused for a moment, regarding the girl’s
calm, proud features in silent amazement before proceeding. “You’re a little
young for this type of service, are you not? Since when is it the habit of the
Yanks to use young ladies for special service details?”