The Sapphire Brooch Katherine Logan (best beach reads TXT) 📖

her eyes were drawn to his lips, parted and full. “As long as you don’t let him talk you into another assignment right away.”

“I’ve promised ye a few uninterrupted days in Georgetown. I won’t let him have those. They’re for us.” Braham’s eyes were dancing now, and she felt suddenly sheepish, and at the same time melting with desire.

64

En Route to Washington City, April 1865

When the president decided to remain in City Point, Braham booked the second leg of their return trip to Washington on the only other steamer available, the Thomas Powell, a ship loaded with some three hundred wounded soldiers. Charlotte volunteered her assistance, explaining to the surgeon in charge she had worked in a Washington hospital. When he asked her for references, she told him she didn’t have any with her. Braham intervened and told the supervising doctor two of Charlotte’s references were President Lincoln and General Grant. It proved to be her ticket to surgery, where she spent most of the day. She found some irony in treating wounded who were chiefly from Sheridan’s Cavalry. If “Little Phil” made an appearance to check on his men, she wasn’t sure what she would say other than thanking him for threatening her. No, she would simply smile and say it was nice to see him, and he’d likely wonder who in the world she was.

By the time the ship arrived in Washington she was exhausted, but glad to be back. Mostly she was looking forward to Braham’s promised getaway. He had strolled past her several times during the day, and each time he’d kept his eyes fixed on hers for several beats before moving on. His glances were titillating, and desire for him flooded her every time, turning her disposition from focused to wanton with only a lift of his brow.

Neither of them had mentioned their plans to Jack, and while she didn’t think he would care or be surprised, she was still a bit anxious about telling him. Would he scold her and say getting involved with Braham was the same as dating an unavailable and sure-to-break-your-heart married man? If so, he could save his breath, his energy, and later, his I told you so’s.

Braham hired a barouche to take them to the townhouse. Since the air was balmy, the driver lowered the collapsible hood. She and Braham shared the seat facing the driver, while Jack and Gaylord shared the rear-facing seat. Each twist and turn of the vehicle jostled her and Braham into closer physical contact. Each time her arm brushed his, the touch was erotically charged. Tingling excitement saturated her, burning hot and promising.

Braham whistled and twitched his long, slender fingers against his thigh as if playing the finger buttons on a trumpet to the beat of the tune blowing through his lips. Of course, it made her think of kissing. Wanton. She was becoming a wanton, and she loved the sensation. She couldn’t take her eyes off his hand, imagining the pads of his fingers stroking her in sensitive places. She touched her mouth, the cool, smooth skin of her lips, thinking about what an excellent kisser he was. Or maybe they were excellent kissers together.

The sun suddenly broke out from behind a rain cloud, and she had to shield her eyes against its brilliance. It was then she noticed the bunting and flags draped around the harbor, which brought her lusting to an abrupt halt. “There seems to be a national festival taking place. If the fall of Richmond causes this kind of a celebration, what will happen when Lee surrenders?”

Jack had his notebook and pencil in hand, jotting down observations. “The city will go nuts.”

The driver took them past the throngs gathered in the Capitol grounds, all clearly enjoying the bands and festive atmosphere. The men sported ivory-headed canes and women carried gay parasols, which were twirling in the breeze. On crowded Pennsylvania Avenue patriotic mottoes embellished the State Department, flags smothered the War Department, and the Navy had hung up a large model of a full-rigged ship. After the fires and smoke in Richmond, Washington’s charged atmosphere made Charlotte imagine Glinda, the Good Witch from Oz, was waving her wand to banish the unsettling power of Charlotte’s horrifying memories.

The carriage stopped in front of the War Department building, and Gaylord hopped out, but before the driver snapped the reins, Gaylord passed a note to Braham. Braham unfolded the paper, read it, and handed it back. His face took on a set and absent look, as though he had forgotten where he was.

Gaylord thumped the side of the vehicle, signaling the driver. They pulled away, heading around the corner to the townhouse. The carriage parked, and Braham helped Charlotte down. Her eyes rested on the paneled front door. A warm, cozy feeling of being home settled in the recesses of her heart, similar to what she experienced every time she drove up the plantation’s driveway. How odd to realize she had become so attached to this house. But was it really the house, or the man who lived here?

Edward, dressed in his neatly pressed day livery, opened the front door with a flourish. “Welcome home, sir.”

Braham handed over his hat. “How’s the household, Edward?”

Edward closed the door after accepting Jack’s hat. “Fine, sir. And welcome back, Mr. Mallory and Miss Charlotte. Hasn’t been the same here since you left.”

Charlotte swept off her cape and handed it to the butler. “Thank you, Edward. Have you been out to enjoy the festivities?”

“Yes, ma’am. I was out earlier this morning. Fine day in Washington. Just fine.”

Braham shook his head briefly, as if dispelling some thought, and said, “I’d like a bath and a light meal. See to my guests. I’ll be in the study.”

She met Jack’s eyes straight on, and they stood there in puzzled silence, looking at each other. Charlotte’s eyes widened. What was going on? Other than raise his brow, Jack didn’t answer her unvoiced question. He didn’t know