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

his eyes had cooled, although it was still there, humming beneath the surface, dangerous and deadly.

“Stay away from the bastard. If he hits ye again, he’ll inflict serious damage. Don’t give him an opportunity.”

She pulled her arm from Braham’s grasp. “I’ll make the promise to you if you’ll make the same one to me. Stay away from the bastard.”

46

Georgetown, February 1865

Amber sunlight poked through a scrim of dirty clouds while the temperature hovered in the mid-forties, a beautiful day for a ride. The Georgetown house, located at the edge of the city limits, was only a mile and half away. It wasn’t unusual for those who resided in the city to summer in a house a mile or two away to get away from the city’s breezeless heat.

Charlotte had learned to ride sidesaddle during her early reenactment days. Her confidence had grown over the years, and now she rode comfortably both sidesaddle and astride. Today, since she was wearing a riding habit instead of her Confederate uniform, she rode sidesaddle on Scarlett Belle, Braham’s chestnut Morgan. The hardest part of riding in a Victorian-era costume, she had discovered, was getting enough air while cinched into a tight corset. She had once come close to fainting, so now she carefully monitored her breathing. Shortness of breath was inconvenient, but her real fear was falling off with her dress tangled in the saddle. Breaking her neck or being dragged to her death seemed equally gruesome.

Braham led the way, weaving around wagons, marching troops, and walking wounded who trudged along muddy Pennsylvania Avenue. Charlotte had difficulty not stopping. She was torn between being at the hospital to receive them and spending the day with Braham and Jack. Twice, she reined in her horse so she could talk to glassy-eyed soldiers. The odor of their sweat and blood saturated her nostrils, but she ignored the smell, more concerned with their welfare than her own selfish comfort.

“It’s not so bad, ma’am. I can still walk,” said a young man wearing a bloody sling.

Another soldier said, “We got food, we got medicine. We don’t need much more ’cept for the war to end.”

A man on crutches shouldered his way into the small group gathered around her. “If you get a chance, tell Mr. Lincoln we’ll fight as long as it takes, but we sure do want to go home.”

The flood of wounded pouring into the city continued even as Braham led her and Jack across Rock Creek and onto Bridge Street. Had the gates of hell opened and spit out all the ragged and war-weary men in the Union Army? She would not be back at the hospital until morning, so until then she had only a smile or kind word to offer those who looked her way.

Braham turned up Thirtieth Street and left the war traffic behind as they entered Georgetown’s more dignified streets. While they rode past the red-brick houses, he and Jack discussed the city’s defenses, and the animated conversation between the two devilishly handsome men attracted stares from well-dressed ladies wearing fancy hats and riding by in open carriages.

Charlotte paid attention to details, often picking up on inconsistencies between a patient’s reported history and symptoms attributable to specific diseases. She was kicking herself now for ignoring Gordon’s obvious symptoms. She had dismissed behaviors which normally would have triggered concerns about drug addiction, post-traumatic stress disorder, and abusive personality. She now was convinced Gordon suffered from all three.

She glanced over at Braham. He was quite a sight in his Cavalry uniform, sitting tall in his saddle, his chiseled features shadowed beneath a dark slouch hat, his well-trained mount responsive to the slightest shift of his weight. Her thoughts spiraled back to the moment he cupped her head in his large, gentle hands and kissed her.

She moaned.

He turned in her direction. “Did ye say something?”

She shook her head trying to shake off last night’s sensual memories. He reached for her gloved hand and fondled her fingers.

“Does yer wee toe hurt?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. If she had stuck her toe in his face, he would have lavished the foot with affection. Someday she’d have to tell him she kicked the damn door stopper, not Gordon’s ass, but for right now he needed to believe she could defend herself.

He straightened in the saddle, winking roguishly. “After luncheon, ye can rest. Ye didn’t sleep much last night.”

She replied with a simple eyebrow arch before saying, “You didn’t either. Maybe you need to rest, too.”

He smiled. “I’ve arranged for Jack to meet the daughter of my neighbor. I think he’ll find her enchanting.”

“Did you know this, Jack?”

Her brother turned in his saddle, free and easy. “Know what?”

“Braham has a woman for you to meet.”

Jack gave an easy lift to his eyebrows, widening his eyes. “Why do you think I’m out in front trying to hurry this party along?”

“Is Braham trying to pass off a homely young lady to occupy your afternoon?”

Jack turned his stallion to align his mount with hers so their horses were trotting side by side. “I asked him, and he assured me she’s the most popular young lady this season, and I’d find her charming.”

She gave her brother a frank, assessing look. “And Braham doesn’t find her charming? Is that why he’s introducing her to you?”

“He assured me he’s not interested.”

She thought a minute then said to Braham. “Are you sure introducing the famously rascally Jack Mallory to your neighbor’s innocent young daughter is wise?”

Braham shifted in his saddle. “The lassie’s parents will be close by. But I’m mindful of Jack’s reputation. I was in town for only an hour last night when I heard the first of several rumors concerning yer brother. He’s an object of much discussion and speculation. At least a dozen fathers asked me if I would vouch for his character since their daughters wouldn’t stop giggling about him.”

She gave Braham a fixed stare. “And did you?”

Braham’s look jumped from Jack to Charlotte. “Without the slightest