Free The Lady and the Officer by Mary Ellis Page B

Sacrifices of war affected the young more than others.
    â€œShe’s coming to Richmond? But she’s a Yankee.” A voice spoke from behind them.
    All three Duncans turned with a start. Their maid stood in the doorway, the butler bobbing in the shadows behind her. “Do not eavesdrop on our conversation, Kathleen. And should you accidentally overhear family discussions, kindly keep your opinion to yourself.” This time Clarisa didn’t make an effort to mask her petulance.
    â€œYes, ma’am,” the maid said with little enthusiasm.
    â€œMicah, please ask Esther to expect a guest. Let’s make sure dinners will be special after Mrs. Howard arrives, even if it means reserving this and that from our meals now.”
    â€œEverything will be ready for her arrival.” Micah bowed from the waist and vanished down the hallway.
    The smile Clarisa had for the butler faded as she turned to Kathleen. “Prepare the yellow guest room with fresh linens and place a bouquet on the mantle.”
    The maid nodded, her face now expressionless.
    â€œAnd regarding our guest’s politics or state of residence? Those aren’t your business, Kathleen. Mrs. Howard is my beloved sister’s daughter. She will be afforded every respect and courtesy while she’s in our home. This household shall make her feel welcome. Have I made myself clear?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. If that’s all, I’ll see to that room now.”
    â€œIt is.” Clarisa picked up her glass of claret and downed it in two swallows—something she’d never done before in her life.
    Kathleen marched from the room without bothering with her usual poorly executed curtsey.

    Madeline knocked on the carved door of the imposing mansion too timidly to be heard. She waited, clutching her bag like a refugee from the docks. To her right stood a trellis of riotous yellow roses. On her left loomed a boxwood hedge taller than her. The flagstone walk from the street had been swept clean, while not a weed intruded upon the perfection of the flower beds.
    Much unlike my trampled beds buried beneath a mound of ash and soot.
    Shaking off the painful memory, she lifted her hand and rapped again. Within another minute the door swung open, and she peered into the face of a tall, dignified black man in full livery.
    â€œGood afternoon, madam. May I be of assistance?” He spoke perfect Queen’s English with a slight drawl.
    â€œI’m Madeline Howard. Is Mrs. Duncan at home? I’m her niece from Pennsylvania.”
    â€œCome in, ma’am. The Duncans have been expecting you. Both ladies are in the back garden. I would be happy to show you the way.” He stepped aside so she could enter.
    As he reached for her valise, Madeline saw his nostrils flare. “I apologize for the bag. The cloth still retains the smell of smoke.”
    â€œNo apology necessary, madam. I’ll see that it is properly cleaned. My name is Micah if I may be of assistance to you.”
    Madeline didn’t hear him as she peered around the two-story center hall with a gaping mouth. A round table held a porcelain urn with an enormous arrangement of flowers. Below her feet was a highly-polished marble floor covered with a fringed Persian rug. Every item in the foyer seemed oversized and ornate, including the multifaceted crystal chandelier overhead.
    Micah cleared his throat. “Shall I show you to the garden, or would you prefer to rest in your room?”
    She briefly contemplated the coward’s choice. “Please take me to my aunt.”
    â€œVery good, madam.” The butler led her through a long corridor lined with portraits of ancestors, long dead judging by their garments. At the far end, a set of French doors opened onto a terrace of wrought iron tablesand padded chaise lounges. Huge potted palms and hibiscus lent a tropical feel to the garden.
    Spotting her aunt doing needlework in the shade, Madeline quickly