Redeeming Gabriel (26 page)

Leaning against the French door, he watched Camilla’s vivid heart-shaped face as she accepted Duvall’s teasing. Funny, he’d not considered her beautiful the first time he saw her. Now—just the turn of her cheek brought a catch to his breath. He watched her gaze drift away as if she wasn’t really listening. The worry at the back of her expression reminded him of the day of the funeral. He wished he could chase it away.

But it looked as if somebody else had already done so. As he opened the door to reenter the house, Camilla flushed and straightened. Duvall looked amused.

As Gabriel stepped inside the room, Camilla stared at the lieutenant, chin up. “You can’t have really done that.”

Duvall smirked. “It was necessary to maintain the discipline of the troops. We couldn’t let that old man funnel moonshine into the ranks without check.”

Gabriel stood behind Camilla’s shoulder. “What old man?”

Duvall flicked an impatient glance at Gabriel. “Virgil Byrd—the Birdman, as he’s known. Reverend, I’m sure you’ll approve of removing another source of contraband whiskey.”

Camilla knotted her fingers. “Couldn’t you destroy Virgil’s still without taking him to jail?”

Duvall shrugged. “Byrd’s been seen at some deuced odd places at all hours of the night. We suspect his activities may involve rather more than bootlegging.”

Gabriel studied the young lieutenant. If the Rebs had been watching Byrd, then he and Camilla were in trouble, too. “Miss Beaumont, it’s my privilege and responsibility to visit those who are sick and in prison. At the first opportunity, I’ll be happy to ascertain Mr. Byrd’s well-being.”

“Thank you, but—oh, Virgil will be so scared!” Camilla hurried toward the door.

A satisfied smile curved the lieutenant’s mouth.

Gabriel pushed his way through the crowd, following Camilla. As he reached the doorway, Fanny Chambliss stepped into his path. “Reverend Leland—Gabriel, where are you going in such a hurry? You must come and meet my papa.”

Gabriel watched Camilla’s disappearing figure. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Weren’t you asking me just the other day about Papa’s donation to the needy in our town?” Fanny pouted.

Gabriel hesitated. Camilla couldn’t get into trouble in the ten minutes it would take him to get rid of Fanny. He bowed. “Miss Chambliss, I am at your disposal.”

“He’s asleep, Willie.” Through a hole in the roof of the jail Camilla looked down at Virgil, slumped directly below, snoring. How he’d slept through the noise they’d made removing the tiles was a mystery. She moved to slide feetfirst into the hole, and a rain of disintegrated mortar fell into the cell.

Virgil sat up, coughing and brushing at his face. “Missy!”

“Shh! You’ll wake the guard!”

Camilla lowered herself, hung by her hands for a moment, then dropped lightly onto the floor. She brushed at her stinging hands.

Virgil struggled to his feet. “I knowed you’d come.”

“Why didn’t you stay out at Caswell Springs?”

“I was afraid you’d need me.” He touched her shoulder. “It’s gonna be all right. I been trusting in God.”

“It’s not that s—” She swallowed hard. “Oh, Virgil.” His faith was an example she ought to follow.

The filtered starlight was blocked by a dark face peering through the hole in the roof. “Miss Milla! You all right?”

Camilla looked up. “Willie! Do you have the rope ready?”

“Yes’m. Here it comes.”

“Virgil, you first. Once you’re out, go get Candy. I found her wandering around and tied her up behind the newspaper office. Go straight to Caswell Springs and stay there until I come for you.” She shook her finger in his face. “You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Virgil took hold of the thick rope hanging beside his head. It jerked him off his feet and pulled him upward.

Left alone, Camilla began to pray.

Lady paused outside Ezekiel’s study. Confronting him had never been easy, but in these days of war—with resources and tempers stretched thin—she dreaded adding to his worry. Drawing herself up, she rapped smartly on the door with her cane.

An indistinguishable growl was her answer.

“Ezekiel, I need to speak with you.”

“I’m sorry, Lady, but this is not a good time.”

“Oh, pish.” She opened the door.

General Forney, seated at Ezekiel’s desk, immediately got to his feet. Ezekiel stood at the fireplace, puffing away on a cigar.

She wished she had one. “I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” she said without a trace of regret.

The general bowed as Ezekiel took the cigar out of his mouth. “Lady! Are you not at the Chambliss ball?”

“Clearly I’m not,” she said tartly. “I wasn’t feeling quite the thing. But I’ve recovered enough to venture down to the kitchen to check on our…guest.”

“How is he?” Ezekiel glanced uneasily at the general, who looked, she thought, a bit conscience-stricken.

“Well enough to eat a good meal and make eyes at your daughter. It’s high time we had him escorted to his rendezvous with the appropriate authorities on Ship Island. Don’t you agree, General?”

Forney pulled at his mustache. “Indeed I do. We shall make arrangements at the first opportunity.”

“Lady, your interference is unnecessary. I know the boy is no direct relation to you, but there is no reason for this heartless—”

Forney tapped the desk. “Beaumont, you may rest easy. The boy will be treated with every consideration.”

Ezekiel started to speak, but something in the general’s intent expression seemed to stay further protest. He walked to the door and bowed to Lady with exaggerated courtesy. “If you’re satisfied, ma’am, the general and I were discussing important business. We’ll not keep you any longer.”

Repressing the urge to poke her son-in-law’s round stomach with the end of her cane, she smiled at Forney. “Thank you, General. I depend on your attention to duty.” She curtsied and quit the office. As soon as she heard the door shut, she headed for Camilla’s room directly above the office.

Gabriel took the Jack and the Beanstalk route to Camilla’s room via the wisteria vine. The urgency of catching her before she went after Byrd outweighed his fear of the damage Fanny Chambliss’s jealous suspicions could cause. Camilla had a good thirty-minute lead on him.

He pushed open the sheers inside the window, then stepped over the window seat, listening to the silence of the room.

The bed gleamed with white lace in the moonlight. As part of his brain conjured up a picture of Camilla in her nightgown, her hair streaming across her shoulders, a different sort of knot developed in his gut. He should make a noise and warn her. Or climb back down the wisteria. If her father should find him here—

“Well, Gabriel, you are certainly one for creative entrances.” A candle flared in the corner, revealing Lady enthroned in Camilla’s chair. She smiled like a pirate. “I suppose I should question your familiarity with my granddaughter’s bedroom.”

He opened his mouth to speak.

“Never mind.” She slashed an imperious gesture. “What are you doing here?”

He glanced at the window. “Where’s Camilla?”

The rocking chair stilled. “She’s not at the party?”

“She left thirty minutes ago. You haven’t seen her?”

“No, I’d only been here a few minutes myself when you arrived.” Lady reached for her cane and struggled to her feet. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story.” Gabriel turned back to the window. “I’ve got to go after her.”

Before he could blink, the cane hooked his ankle. Gabriel found himself flat on his back on the floor, a knife at the end of the cane grazing his temple. “Not so fast,” Lady said calmly. “I want the whole story, if you please.”

He lay silent, reviewing his options.

Lady sighed. “If you hadn’t guessed by now, I am the Camellia. I’m the one who’s been giving you your spying orders. I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Gabriel’s head swam. He’d been chasing all over the United States, not to mention the C.S.A., at the behest of a hundred-pound grandmother who’d been in love with his grandfather.

“Move the cane so I can sit up,” he gasped.

Lady chuckled and retracted the blade.

Gabriel got to his feet. “Does Camilla know who you are?”

“For her safety I’ve kept it from her, though the servants know.” She shrugged. “My sympathies were with the North from the beginning, because of my parents’ antislavery beliefs. I had no control over my husband’s plantation until he died, when I freed the field hands and moved in here with my daughter’s family. Portia, Horace and Willie insisted on following me.”

Gabriel folded his arms. “So you taught Camilla to be abolitionist.”

The old woman snorted. “The subject caused such disruption when the children were small that Ezekiel and I agreed to wait until they were older to discuss it. Events took care of themselves.”

“What do you mean?”

“When Camilla was about fourteen, she went fishing one day when she was supposed to be in school. She happened across a slave woman who had escaped with her baby in a whiskey barrel. The woman was dead, but Camilla and Portia managed to get the baby away.”

“My God.”

“Yes, God was very much in control.” Lady smiled wryly. “Portia came to me. Though I was very angry with her for involving my granddaughter, the damage was done. I could see that if Camilla was to be kept from disaster, I would have to help her.” She shrugged again. “Over the years we’ve developed an unofficial station of the underground railroad. Camilla is quite good at what she does.”

“I can’t believe you would let her—”

“Gabriel, have you yet succeeded in preventing Camilla from doing what seems right to her?”

He had to smile. “You should have told me long ago who you are.”

“It’s a complicated situation. I met Farragut years before hostilities broke out. Afterwards, I saw that I was in a position to provide intelligence. Women hear things that men don’t realize is useful. I got word to Farragut, and he agreed that I might help. I’ve gradually taken on more responsibility. But—as you know, trust has to be earned.”

“Working blind is not my idea of effective intelligence. I’ve wasted enough time here.” Gabriel edged toward the window, steering clear of that lethal cane. “The Rebs caught the Birdman selling liquor to the enlisted men, and Camilla seems to have gone to his rescue.”

Lady sat down hard on the window seat. “I just overhead a conversation between my son-in-law and the general. The silver shipment that came in this week wasn’t for cotton. There’s been a trade for the torpedo boat, and Forney is having the vessel moved from Mobile to Charleston.”

“When?”

“Tonight. Union forces are crossing the line into Mississippi and will be in Pass Christian later today.” Lady shook her head. “Forney’s afraid if they don’t move the vessel now it will be confiscated.”

“The Federals are in Mississippi? I suppose that’s why Forney’s men left the ball early.”

“I’m sure. Which means there will be military personnel all over town tonight. You’ve got to stop Camilla.”

“Precisely. So if you don’t mind…”

Lady moved aside. Gabriel climbed out the window and found a foothold on the vine. Camilla’s lead was now close to an hour. It would be a miracle if he caught her before she walked into trouble.

Chapter Twenty-One

C
amilla rubbed her arms as she waited for Willie to drop the rope. The cell made her skin crawl. No windows, a heavy oak door braced with iron bars, smelly earth floor. She kept her face turned up to the hole in the roof.

The Lord is my light and my salvation,
she reminded herself, craning her neck to see the stars.

At last she heard a scraping sound, then the rope fell, brushing her shoulder. “Willie?” When he grunted in response, she grabbed the lifeline. “I’ve got it. Pull me up.”

With a small jerk she was on her way up. She scratched her face coming out of the hole, and the rope burned her hands, but the feel of moist open air was a blessing. She lay for a moment with her cheek against the shingles, her legs still dangling inside the jail.

She took a breath and looked around for Willie. There was a big figure crouched beside her, his face shadowed by his hat.

“Miss Beaumont. How charming to meet you here.” The hat tipped back, and Gabriel’s teeth gleamed white in the darkness. “I believe you owe me a dance.”

She pulled herself out onto the roof. “You’re worse than a wagon dog following me around.”

He clicked his tongue. “You wound me. A little gratitude wouldn’t be out of place.”

Sitting up, she jerked the rope out of his hands and began to coil it around her arm. “How’d you know where to find me?”

“Ah. See, that’s where observation pays off. I asked myself, ‘Reverend Leland, if you were a brave but hare-brained little girl who wanted to commit an act of treason, what would you do?’” He tilted his head and deepened his voice in self-mockery. “‘Why, I believe I would go home, change into my brother’s clothes and talk one of my servants—who happens to possess as little sense as I do—into assisting me.’” He returned to his natural voice. “And bless me, Miss Beaumont, if you haven’t done just that.” He sat balanced on his haunches as comfortably as if he were drinking tea in Lady’s pink parlor.

Scoundrel. “Where’s Willie?”

“I sent him on with Byrd.” Gabriel took the heavy rope off her shoulder and proceeded to undo her work. He efficiently tied one end to a stovepipe poking out of the roof, then tossed the other over the edge. “Told him I would get you out of here safely.”

Of course Willie would obey
him
instead of Camilla. With a sigh, she pulled the roofing slates back across the hole. “I can get myself home.”

“You’re not going home.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Camilla, the omnipresent Lieutenant Duvall will know exactly who deprived him of his prisoner. Why do you think he told you about it? Since you took the bait and managed to get here before I could stop you, the only recourse is sending you to Union territory.”

She struggled to keep her voice down. “Are you mad? I’m not leaving my home and everybody I—”