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

to tell.” God, she hated lying, and yet here she was, at it again. “My father trained at a medical college in New York, and I assisted him for a number of years, learning as much from him as possible.”

“Where is he now?”

She held Gordon’s gaze a moment. Then her eyes dropped before saying, “He’s attached to the Second Corps Army of Northern Virginia.”

Gordon’s upper body stiffened.

“I told you I’m a Unionist,” she added quickly. “The split with my father has been difficult.”

He set his teacup on the serving tray. “Your story is not unique. The war has torn apart families in the North and South—brothers, fathers, and sons fighting on opposite sides.”

“At least Jack didn’t join the cause.”

Gordon’s head tilted curiously. A faint gleam of something indefinable appeared in his eyes. “How has he stayed out of the conflict?”

A liar’s edge of discomfort crawled up her back to the base of her neck, tingling and twitching. She glanced down at her hands, avoiding Gordon’s eyes. “Jack is a journalist. He’s been at most major battles.” Once she regained a grip on her composure, she looked up at the colonel again. “He’s a brilliant writer. He’s visiting newspapers today, as a matter of fact. Maybe one of them will be interested in buying his dispatches. One day, I believe he’ll write a novel of lasting importance.”

“You have confidence in him.”

“As he does in me,” she said.

Gordon tapped his finger against his chin. “Jack Mallory. I don’t think I’ve read anything he’s written.”

“Bylines aren’t published so you wouldn’t recognize his name.”

“I’d like to read one of his dispatches. Maybe I can introduce him to a few editors. I know several. A recommendation might help him sell a piece.”

She gave him a sweet smile. “I’m sure Jack would appreciate your help, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Gordon took her hand. His palms were sweaty and callused. “If you’re serious about working in a hospital, I’ll see what arrangements I can make.”

“You’re more than generous, and I am very appreciative.” She withdrew her hand to pick up her teacup.

“I can get you in to see the right people, but you would have to prove you have the skills you claim to have. I can’t speak to that.”

“You came to my rescue yesterday, and today have made offers to assist both Jack and me. Our abandonment on the street was very fortuitous.”

He gave a light laugh of false modesty. “I do what I can.”

They both sipped their tea. She felt a question or statement hovering in the air between them. Could it be about Braham? She set her cup in its saucer. Not one to shy away from controversy, she asked, “What about my cousin?”

“Oh, well, yes, I asked Secretary of War Stanton about him.”

“And?” Her voice climbed a notch in anticipation.

“He wanted to know why I asking. I told him Braham’s cousin from Richmond was in town looking for him. He said he found it very curious and didn’t have any information he could pass along. However, as I was leaving, Secretary of State Seward stopped me and extended an invitation to a small dinner party at his home this Friday. Would you like to accompany me?”

“He lives on the other side of the park, does he not?” she asked.

“Near the corner of Pennsylvania and Madison Place.”

“May I send you my reply tomorrow?”

He gave her a half grin. “If the answer is yes, tomorrow will be fine.”

For a moment, she didn’t reply. Then she said, “I’d like to mention it to Jack first, to be sure he hasn’t committed us to another engagement.”

The case clock in the corner struck four.

“I must be going,” Gordon said, standing. “I have a five o’clock appointment. Tomorrow I’ll call on Doctor Letterman at the Medical Department and inquire as to a position which might be appropriate for a woman with your qualifications.”

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “And I look forward to hearing from you.”

Charlotte stood at the window scrubbing her hand to get rid of the sensation of his lips. She had painted herself into a corner. Lincoln and Stanton had sent her father to rescue Braham. Now she showed up claiming to be his cousin and wanting to know his whereabouts.

Good God, what was she doing? Playing with history. Playing with people’s lives.

Life was much simpler when all she had to worry about besides her patients, teaching, and piles of medical records, was whether she was going to get another speeding ticket.

36

Washington City—February 1865

Jack stood in the doorway to Charlotte’s bedroom, twirling his pocket watch by its long silver chain. “Big date?”

“I’m going with Gordon to Ford’s Theatre to see the comedian J. S. Clarke. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I do want to see the production.”

Jack leaned against the doorframe and pocketed his watch. “I would have taken you.”

“I know.” She removed her grandmother’s cameo from its secret hiding place in her knitting basket and pinned it at the center of the low, square bodice of her blue silk dinner dress. “I don’t want to complain, though. Getting me a job at the hospital racked up lots of points for him. And he can be quite charming when he’s not in pain or doped up on medication. Then he’s unpredictable.”

“Do you think he’s dangerous?”

She swirled from side to side, checking her reflection in the long mirror. “He can be aggressive, but when I’m firm, he backs off. The trouble is I never know which personality is going to show up.”

“A real Jekyll and Hyde. Now you’ve told me, I’m not sure I like the idea of you going out with him.”

“He’s got connections and knows all the movers and shakers in Washington. I don’t think we’d get invitations to important dinner parties and balls without him. Although none of them have led to a smidgeon of information about Braham.”

“Stop seeing him, then. You don’t care about the parties, and