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

their beauty all the more after the degradation they’d witnessed. In the twenty-first century, half-million-dollar row homes were crammed together in their places. Though still a beautiful street, it didn’t have the charm and elegance the street possessed in the nineteenth century.

“One of my reference books mentioned that during the evacuation—” Jack said, but Charlotte interrupted him.

“What? I’m sorry,” she said. “I was distracted. What were you saying?”

He frowned back with a look of puzzlement. “Pay attention. Stop woolgathering. I thought you wanted to hear my plan.”

She might have laughed if she’d been in the mood for irony. After waiting with bated breath for two days to hear his plan, her mind took a break for a very few seconds to appreciate the scenery, so naturally he chose this particular time for his big reveal. She lifted one eyebrow at him. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

He glanced at her with a wry half smile. “Are you sure?”

She replied with a small grunt of amusement.

“Okay, here’s the gist of it. During the evacuation, there was a confrontation with the crowd, and three of Miss Van Lew’s cohorts slipped away undetected.”

“Then Braham needs to be with them. Wait a second.” She snapped her fingers repeatedly as she attempted to draw something from memory. “There are no horses, wagons, or trains in Richmond at the present, right? So, there’s no way to carry wounded prisoners. If a prisoner can’t walk, he won’t be evacuated. Doctor Mallory has to get inside the prison to get a message to Braham to get in line with the Van Lew people and slip away with them.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

She snorted.

Jack dug a knuckle hard between his brows, as if he were trying to press a headache into submission. “We’ll find another way.”

She was fired up, suddenly feeling quite herself, although there was a faint echo of constant, underlying fear. “I want to do this.”

“What we want,” he began in a voice inflexible as a stone, “isn’t always good for us.”

“Good God, Jack, stop acting like a parent and be my partner in this.”

“When you were in high school and college, I was your only parent. It’s hard to break old habits, especially when it concerns your well-being.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Let’s wait and see if Miss Van Lew has any better suggestions.”

Their walk up the street took them alongside the Van Lews’ three-story white residence. The house took up an entire city block and sat at the top of the elegant Church Hill neighborhood. From the side street they could see the rear of the house, an imposing two-story Doric piazza overlooking elaborate gardens. Magnolia trees, hedges of privet, and box bushes wreathed the house and fell gently in a series of terraces down the hill toward the river.

“It’s gorgeous,” Charlotte said. “Old black and white pictures don’t do it justice. Why in the world did they have to tear it down?”

A wistful, reflective smile crossed his face. “The city condemned the building in 1911. Folks thought it was haunted.”

“Now I’ve seen all this,” she said with a sweep of her arm, “I realize how much of historical Richmond will be lost to the future.”

Jack pointed to St. John’s Episcopal Church on the corner across the street from the mansion. “The church hasn’t changed much.”

“It’s such a waste the Van Lew mansion didn’t survive as well. Maybe we can find a way to save it.”

He gave her a narrow-eyed disapproving glance. “Are you suggesting we change history?”

She gave him the faintest of shrugs. “What harm would it do?”

“What harm? Seriously? If you make a small change for Van Lew—”

“I know,” she said, flapping her hand. “If we do it once, we’ll do it again for the next person who needs a different outcome.”

“Exactly.” Jack opened the whitewashed wrought iron gate leading to the mansion’s front door. They ascended the left curve of the double staircase, up to the dwarf portico facing Grace Street. “Are you ready?”

She patted down and smoothed the front of her riding dress, then tucked loose curls back under her hat, wanting to be presentable when she met one of Richmond’s most famous nineteenth-century personalities. “Historical people are challenging, because you might slip up and tell them something they shouldn’t know.”

Jack lifted the door knocker and struck the ornate plate fitted to the door twice. “I have the same problem with the Booth article. I keep interjecting the future.”

Charlotte glanced into the side windows. “Someone’s coming.” She patted her buttons to be sure all were tightly secured, then tugged on the hem of her jacket. “When will you finish it?”

“Be still. You’re a fidgety butt.”

A servant dressed in splendid livery answered the door.

Jack leaned slightly toward Charlotte and whispered, “To answer your question, I don’t know if I will.”

The servant inquired politely, “How may I help you?”

“We’d like to see Miss Van Lew on a business matter,” Jack said.

They were invited into a massive entryway furnished as elegantly as any grand home in twenty-first century Richmond. A massive cut-glass chandelier hovered over the marble floor. Set in motion by the breeze coming through the door, the crystal teardrops tinkled faintly. Oil paintings lined the walls, stretching back into the heart of the house.

They were shown into a spacious front drawing room. Large open windows were covered with lace curtains blowing gently in a breeze carrying the fragrances of roses and jasmine. Charlotte paced along the room’s perimeter, taking in every detail of the furniture, porcelain vases, and an exquisite classical sofa upholstered in a burgundy…something…with matching silk tufts. She ran her hand over the fabric. Harrateen, probably.

Several comfortable wing chairs were scatted about, some with books lying open on their seats. She flipped one of the books over to read the title. Jane Eyre. Amused, she returned the book to its original position on the chair. This room was comfortable, luxurious, and well used by the family.

Jack gave her a slightly reproachful look. “You’re bugging