The Wicked North (Hearts Touched By Fire Book 1) (5 page)

“Gentlemen,” he said, handing each a cigar. “To us, the Class of ’54!”

“Huzzah!” Jack and Charles both exclaimed, accepting their cigars.

“Charles!” A distant yell. The men turned to find Caroline Silvers heading toward them, followed by her sister and parents.

Stuart backed away, and Jack wanted to join him.

Charles handed Jack his lit cigar and wrapped his arms around his sister, swinging her around in a circle.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” he looked up at his family. “All of you.”

“Congratulations, my boy,” the elder Silvers stated, grasping his son’s hand and shaking it.

“Oh, Charles, I’m so happy for you,” his mother said, leaning to kiss his cheek.

Jack watched Emma. She stood back a bit. His eyes roved over her, drinking in the beauty she had become. Her auburn hair still retained copper highlights, her brown eyes were warm when she hugged Charles. She had grown a good six inches, he guessed, taller than her sister but still shorter than he and Charles.

When she turned to offer him her hand in congratulations, he saw her face had become more angular, with high cheekbones and freckles sprinkled across her nose. Her full, heart-shaped lips beckoned to him. Lips he so wanted to kiss…

“Congratulations, Mr. Fontaine,” she said flatly, extending her hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured, fighting the urge to bring her hand to his lips. Off to the side, he saw Caroline frown at him.

“He’s Brevet Second Lieutenant, Emma,” Charles corrected her.

Emma scrutinized Jack. “Really?” They stood for a minute, neither moving. Her hand in his, their eyes locked.

“Jack!” Another feminine voice called to him. He recognized it, and the spell between him and Emma broke. He released her hand reluctantly.

Emma quickly turned back to her family, who were deep in discussion.

He hated that she had dismissed him so quickly.

But deeply inhaling, he turned to find his mother, his sister Cerisa and older brother, Francois. “Mama,” he greeted her with a smile.

“My dear Jack,” she said, kissing his cheek.

“Brother,” Francois said, extending his hand, a smile across his Creole face. Dark-haired with pale blue eyes, Francois looked like their father, Pierre Fontaine. His brother had followed their father in the family business, which was a relief to Jack. He couldn’t abide his father’s rules and rigid, old-fashioned beliefs, nor did he want anything to do with the family business. Jack had hated his father ever since the man had insisted he learn some of the family’s “business practices.” To avoid his father, he had attended West Point. His refusal to obey his father’s commands and his break from family tradition had alienated the two men. Jack’s distance from his family for the last four years had been a relief. He’d rather deal with the Army than his father.

“Father?” Jack asked tentatively, trying to conceal his hope that Pierre had not come.

His mother, Marie, shook her head. “Jack, you know he’s too tied up in contracts to take this long a journey.” She smiled at him warmly, trying to convey by her expression that he should not be angry—or happy—because of his father’s absence.

Jack smiled at her, taking her hands in his. “Of course, I understand. I’m so glad you are here.” Pierre hadn’t come because he believed Jack had refused his efforts to have him stationed closer to home. Jack couldn’t help but laugh inwardly. His father must have finally realized he couldn’t control his son any longer. Or so Jack prayed.

War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it.

The crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

—
Union General William Tecumseh Sherman

Chapter Five

July 1854

Windswept and Galahad flew up the dry dirt drive toward Rose Hill, dust clouding them and their riders on the last leg of the journey from West Point. As the two horses closed in, both riders pulled on their reins, sitting back in the saddles.

“I got you on that one, Jack,” Charles cried triumphantly, throwing his leg over the saddle horn and jumping to the ground.

Jack gave his friend a wry grin and laughed. “Yes, I do believe you won—this time.”

Charles grinned in return as he threw both horses’ reins to the slave who waited at the front of the house for them. Jack trailed Charles as he threw the front doors open. “Momma! Momma where are you?”

He stopped at the double doors to the right and opened them. Feminine laughter drifted out as Jack’s friend walked right in.

“Charlie, we didn’t think you’d be home till tomorrow.”

Jack slowly entered the front parlor as Charles hugged his mother. His gaze went to the other person in the room, Emma. She sat on the settee, a book in her hand, smiling at her brother. Jack was drawn to her smile, and his mouth twitched. Her hair was pinned up, swept back, and held by tortoise combs, giving him a clear view of her lovely neck. The cream-colored gown striped with yellow made her bronze hair and the freckles on her nose most appealing. Her sister had written to him, but why hadn’t Emma sent him a letter? At the very least, to answer the one he sent her.

“Charles?” The shrill voice came from the hall.

Charles turned. “Sis!” He opened his arms and Caroline hiked her skirts, running toward him.

“Caroline, control yourself,” Margaret Silvers’ voice was low, reprimanding her daughter for her outrageous behavior, but to no avail. Charles picked up his sister and twirled her around.

When Caroline’s feet touch the floor again, she turned toward Jack. “Mr. Fontaine, how nice to see you again.” She held out her hand for him to kiss as she grinned.

Jack smiled as he drew her hand to his lips. “Miss Silvers.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emma roll her eyes. As Caroline fluttered her eyes at him, he released her hand and turned toward Emma.

“Miss Silvers,” he greeted as he also drew her hand to his lips.

She regarded him. “Mr. Fontaine.”

“Mother, when’s dinner?” Leave it to Charles to want food right away.

“We shall eat now,” Margaret said, offering her arm to her son. Caroline took his other arm and chattered constantly.

Jack looked at Emma, offering his arm to her.

It was obvious that Emma’s contempt for Caroline’s behavior hadn’t tempered. Maybe it was even a bit more evident now that she was older. It made Jack smile wider.

#

Dinner at the Silvers’ was a lively affair. Caroline’s and Charles’ voices grew louder as each course was served. And when John Henry joined in, his deep booming voice caused Caroline to talk louder still. It was the most animated time Jack had spent in ages. Not that the mess hall at The Point was quiet, but the cadets droned in comparison to this bright and noisy exchange. If he had gone home, the meal would have been painfully quiet and long, the friction between him and his father intensifying between courses. But dinner with the Silvers was entertaining.

Emma, though, hadn’t joined the conversation. It took her brother several tries to get her involved, but her voice was stern, almost as though everyone was bothering her. During the meal, her manners were impeccable—delicately holding her fork and taking small bites. When her mouth closed around the tines, it lit a fire deep inside him. And when she swallowed a piece of meat, his mouth went dry. He shifted in his chair. The Army had better assign him soon.

#

After dinner, some neighbors arrived. Emma sighed as she fiddled with the folds on her skirt. She’d have to spend even more time around Jack. Her gaze lingered on him for too long. No doubt Caroline would be on her about “staring” at Jack even though she knew Caroline wanted all his attention for herself. His and about half the county’s.

Thank heavens Billy arrived, along with the Anderson twins and Abigail Somerton. The twins were a delight. Timothy and Edward Anderson were tall and handsome. Their height was not as impressive as Jack’s, nor did they have his charisma, but they were good natured, always in a festive mood. They were also Charles’ friends, hailing from the Anderson farm just down the lane. Cotton growers, like the Silvers. Abigail Somerton was Caroline’s age, a stunning redhead whose personality fit the stereotype—fun, outgoing and short tempered.

In the glow of the candlelit room, Emma marveled at how Billy had grown. A year older than Caroline, he tended to his father’s farm with the hope that he’d inherit it when the elder Lawrence passed. All those years working outside with horses had made him tan and muscular. His attentions were on Emma most of the time, and he was always there for her when her sister ranted on and on about any issue that she didn’t like.

Emma pasted a smile on her lips. With her parents occupied, the younger generation had found a way to amuse themselves—parlor games. Emma, at seventeen, now was old enough to play them too. Standing there, she felt her legs begin to shake. Caroline had taught her how to play, but Emma worried that she wasn’t talented enough. That’s why she lost so often. Her hands felt clammy. She hoped her sister would keep her cruel, vulgar remarks to herself and not embarrass Emma about her inexperience.

Perhaps Jack would distract Caroline, making her forget about her sister. With a sigh of resignation, she wondered whether it was possible for him to get any better looking. In his black jacket, white shirt, sapphire blue waistcoat and black trousers, he was dashing. His broad shoulders, narrow waist and corded legs could hold any woman’s attention. His dark brown hair was slightly tussled, and those green eyes glowed in the firelight. Emma stifled the excitement growing in her because of his presence.

“Now’s the time we’ve been waiting for,” the elder Silvers girl said. Her tone conspiratorial, she lowered her voice. “We all have forfeits to redeem. How shall we begin?”

Emma remained quiet. She had lost the game five times already, hence she had five forfeits. Caroline told her forfeits were the best part of the evening because for them to be satisfied, it usually involved kissing the men. Her stomach twisted in anticipation. Jack was here. He was part of the reason she lost the first three rounds in the conundrum game. But if Caroline picked that game, Emma would have to share his lips. No, she wouldn’t do that. Emma opened her mouth to suggest a way to pay off the forfeits, but she found herself speechless. Kissing couldn’t be that vulgar, could it?

Jack’s eyes roved over her. His grin turned wicked when it reached the bodice of her pink and white silk gown. His eyes sparkled like emeralds.

“I suggest,” Caroline began. “That we must kiss each corner of the room.”

Abigail squealed. The men nodded. A tingle reached down Emma’s spine. A kissing game. She was excited and frightened at the same time. Biting her lower lip, she watched her sister place Billy in one corner, Edward and Timothy in the next two corners and Jack in the last. They were the “corners” to be kissed in exchange for a forfeit.

Charles clapped his hands. “I do believe I shall forego kissing the corners.” He laughed.

“No, Charles, you shall be our north star and stand here,” Caroline stated, placing him in the center of the room. She smiled, pleased with herself.

Emma twisted the ribbon handle of her fan. Her forfeits numbered the highest in the room. Her sister stared at her. Would she make her leave? This game was meant for Caroline to kiss the Andersons and Jack. Emma lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders as she returned Caroline’s stare. She would not leave just for her sister.

Caroline’s lips pursed, and Emma heard the muffled stomp of her sister’s foot, but when she wouldn’t back down, Caroline sighed. Loud enough to be heard. So ill mannered, Emma thought, grinning. She won the right to stay.

Abigail went first. She started with Timothy. Caroline cheered her on, and when their lips met for a quick kiss, Caroline turned to Emma. “I know you’re still a baby. This is your first experience with men. Just go up to them and give them one of your sweet baby kisses on their cheeks, you hear me?”

Emma’s lips twitched. Order her around, would she? As always, Caroline wanted to be the center of attention. These last few months, her self-centeredness had grown. Of course, Emma had turned of age, her own debut not far away. If Caroline didn’t get a man soon, Emma might surpass her. What a pleasant thought, though now, Caroline was first and trying to remain there. Emma smiled. “Yes, sister.”

Caroline’s eyes twinkled, and she grinned from ear to ear. “Wonderful. Now do be careful. Men often try to get more.” She giggled and turned to go to Timothy.

Emma stood, waiting for her turn. She was in a good mood for her first time playing parlor games, and, despite her nerves now, she was determined to stay that way. How dare Caroline ruin it for her?

Abigail walked to her third corner, where Jack stood. Caroline stretched and gave Edward a kiss after he taunted her for trying to steal one. Both of them laughed at his accusation.

A knot tied in Emma’s stomach as she slowly walked to Timothy.

“Do I get to be the first you kiss, Miss Emma?” He gave her a lopsided grin.