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

afraid she was, he’d write himself into her role. While it would certainly create tension in the story he was writing, it wouldn’t do much for the one they were living. He had limited tolerance for sickness and injuries.

“They arrest women for posing as men,” Elizabeth said.

Charlotte glanced down at her tightly laced fingers and deliberately untangled them. Placing her hands on her thighs, she straightened her spine and got to her feet. She had no desire to be incarcerated, but she couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

“If I’m discovered, you’ll have two to rescue tomorrow night.”

Jack set his glass on the table with enough force to put a fine-line crack in the crystal. “Don’t be flippant.”

Charlotte got in his face. “Then support me.”

He picked up another glass from the serving tray and splashed whisky into it. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I can’t.”

She snagged fistfuls of his jacket and held on tight. The keening of the wind outside the windows whooshed into her heart, illuminating the one thing in the world she was most afraid of—losing Jack. If that was her biggest fear, then she now understood the monster crushing him. She relaxed her hands and smoothed the creases she had caused with her tenacious grip.

“I’ll go to the prison late tomorrow afternoon, and if I’m discovered, which is highly unlikely, the longest I could be incarcerated is a couple of hours. But,” she said with her mouth twitching in an attempted smile, “if doing this will cause you to stroke out from worry, I won’t.”

He hugged her, resting his chin on top of her head, his galloping heart thumping against her cheek. Her body tensed, except for her quivering chin, as she waited interminable seconds for the answer she expected him to give.

“I won’t stroke out, but I can’t promise I won’t go barging in after you if you’re not back in a reasonable amount of time.” He held her at arm’s length. His eyes bored into her with the precision of a diamond bit. “And my definition of reasonable is within the hour. Understood?”

Superficially, peace between the Mallory siblings was restored, but for the next forty-eight hours the embers of uneasiness would continue to flare.

52

Richmond, Virginia, April 1, 1865

Charlotte threw back the covers and got up slowly. After a night of fitful sleep, she was stiff and achy. She needed an easy walk and a long stretch. Dressing quickly, she slipped out onto the back portico where a mélange of heady scents, flower fragrances, and freshly turned earth wafted around her.

Hoping to enjoy a few minutes of peace before the household began to stir, she strolled barefoot around the terraces and breathed in the delicious scents of spring. Wisteria was blooming in big blue and lavender clumps on the side of the house, and beyond the garden full of dogwood blooms and fruit blossoms, a soft mist lifted over the James River. A brilliant sun inched its way up through the golden hues of a still and lovely dawn. The same smells, the same flowers, the same exquisite sunrise had not changed in a hundred and fifty years.

The first Sunday in April was Communion Sunday in Richmond. That hadn’t changed either. Charlotte, Jack, and Elizabeth planned to attend worship service at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. The siblings, unashamedly, had an ulterior motive. They wanted premium seating to observe one of the last memorable days of the Confederacy unfold.

When Charlotte reentered the house, with her bare feet making soft pats on the hardwood floor, she found Elizabeth preparing to go out. “Do you still plan to attend church services? If you’ll give me a minute to find my shoes, I’ll go with you.”

Elizabeth tied her bonnet strings. “I’m going to Capitol Square for news first.”

Charlotte laced up her shoes and jotted a note for Jack to meet them in front of the church at eleven. A few minutes later the women headed down the sidewalk to find out what was happening in the city.

Warm breezes and the morning’s exquisite beauty belied the anxiety rippling through the crowd milling around the War Department and post office. Everyone in Richmond was desperate for news from Petersburg. Charlotte knew the Union Army had breached the Confederate trenches in front of the city and the end of the war was at hand, but she couldn’t tell the crowd what they desperately wanted to know. Instead, she scanned the panicked faces and for some odd reason remembered a line from The Tempest. Hell is empty. And all the Devils are here.

At eleven o’clock the peal of church bells signaled the start of services. Charlotte and Elizabeth met Jack at the corner of Grace and Ninth Streets.

“Did you hear any news?” Elizabeth asked.

Jack edged the women away from a group of men who had gathered in front of a park bench to discuss what would happen to Richmond if Petersburg fell.

“The Union breached the line in front of Petersburg. It’s only a matter of time now,” he said.

Elizabeth’s pensive smile was shadowed at the corners. “If Petersburg is lost, Richmond will be evacuated, exactly as you predicted yesterday.”

Charlotte took Elizabeth’s arm. “Come on, let’s go inside. More news should be available by the time the service is over.” Together they climbed the stone steps, past the columns, and strolled into the building. Charlotte had attended services here as a child, but on this Sunday she wasn’t remembering her past. She was reflecting on what would happen by the end of the day, and how it would impact the citizens of Richmond.

Jack escorted them to a seat on the back row of the elegantly simple church, where they could observe everyone entering and leaving. Charlotte was only interested in the comings and goings of one person—President Jefferson Davis. Within minutes of taking her seat, she saw him, dressed in an immaculate gray uniform and carrying his hat. His pale face showed no sign of emotion, leaving her to wonder what he