The Sapphire Brooch by Katherine Logan (best novels to read to improve english .txt) π

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- Author: Katherine Logan
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The physically demanding horseback trip from City Point had taken them across rivers, over rugged terrain, and through forested regions. Since both armies patrolled the area, they had maintained silence throughout the twenty-five mile trek. The possibility of ambush at every blind bend kept her braced for an attack. By the end of the journey her fear was locked in her shoulders and neck, and she winced when she twisted to stretch the tight band of knotted, strained muscles.
βWho lives here?β she asked.
Gaylord threw his saddlebags over his shoulder. βNo one now.β He uncinched the saddle. βWeβre leaving the horses here. Theyβll be confiscated if we ride them into the city.β
βWhatβs to stop someone from stealing them from an abandoned farm?β
βSoon as we leave, theyβll be taken to a safe pasture.β
Leaves crunched underfoot while they hiked in the shelter of the tree line. As hot as the wool uniform often was, tonight she was thankful for the warmth it provided and that Gaylord allowed her to wear it.
Gaylord followed an invisible path. More than once, when she was convinced theyβd reached an impenetrable thicket, an opening appeared. Not even breadcrumbs would help her find her way back. The arduous trek ended at a dirt road on the north side of Richmond.
βWhat now?β she asked.
βWe wait.β
While they waited in the shadows, Charlotte leaned against a tree and closed her eyes. She had learned as a resident to grab sleep when she could, and she quickly dozed off.
Gaylord woke her, whispering her name. βDoctor Mallory. Wake up. Your contact is here.β
βOh.β She got up, stretched, and yawned.
The carriage door swung open as if it had been kicked. If she had been nearby, it would have knocked her to the ground.
βGood luck,β Gaylord said before disappearing back into the trees.
The little man hadnβt been good company, but he was an excellent guide, and she had become comfortable traveling with him. Now the fear sheβd held at bay during their day-long ride to Richmond came back in a rush.
She peered inside the carriageβs window. Moonlight barely illuminated the street, much less the inside of a carriage, but she was able to discern the shadowy outline of a man in there.
βYour patient doesnβt have much time. Please get in,β the man said.
Was she really expected to get into a dark carriage with a man she didnβt know? Yes, and hadnβt she spent the day traveling through Virginia with a man she didnβt know? She took a shaky breath to silence the warning bells clanging in her head. How many more hurdles would she have to jump before she could go home?
Reluctantly, she climbed inside and sat opposite a man with dark curly hair and muttonchops. He rapped the ceiling with a walking stick. The driver snapped the reins and drove down Broad Street.
βHave you met Doctor McCaw?β he asked.
βNo. Although Iβm familiar with the work heβs done at Chimborazo.β He and her six-times-great-grandfather were contemporaries but, thankfully, they had never met.
βWe play chess regularly,β the man said.
Charlotte calmly rested steady hands on her thighs, but inside she was one big monster knot. βYour friendly game could yield valuable information for the underground. Iβm sure Doctor McCaw hears soldiers discuss tactical options. Information the Union would find useful.β
The chess-playing spy leaned forward, lacing his fingers on the top of the cane. βI told my colleagues it was a mistake to trust you, but no one would listen.β
βYou have nothing to fear from me. Iβm on your side.β
He frowned, his dark eyes narrowed. βPshaw. I know your family, Doctor Mallory, and there isnβt a Unionist among them. I pray for all our sakes youβre telling the truth.β
She hoped he didnβt ask how she was related, because she hadnβt had time to invent a satisfactory answer, and fumbling for one would only make him doubt her more.
βWhen we get to Chimborazo, Iβll go in to see McCaw. Major McCabe is in the ward closest to his office. My informant told me earlier today he wouldnβt survive the night. He might already be dead.β
βThen why am I going in there?β
βIf McCabe has talked, weβre all in danger. I could be walking into a trap tonight. We need to know. Grant needs to know.β
βWhy is he in Chimborazo and not in a prison hospital?β
βHe was shot while trying to escape custody. It was the closest hospital.β
Which confirmed what Lincoln had told her.
The carriage drove along the road at the base of the camp then crossed the bridge at the back of the compound. A sentry came to the carriage door.
βEvening, Mr. Parker. Is it chess night?β
βIβve come to beat McCaw again. Is he in his office?β
The sentry opened the door and glanced inside. Charlotte nodded. βWho you got with you?β
Parker pointed with his walking stick. βA surgeon from General Leeβs headquarters. Saved him a long walk from town.β
βYour lucky night, hey?β the sentry said. He closed the door and rapped on the side of the carriage. The driver continued up the hill toward the compound.
Her companion fixed her with a piercing look, and a hot numbness swept over her face. βWeβre both playing a dangerous game. I pray youβre not here to entrap us.β
It was, indeed, the most dangerous game sheβd ever played, and one not of her choosing. But even given the choice, she would never have taken such a risk.
The carriage stopped in front of Laughton House, now serving as headquarters, which included the offices of the surgeon-in-chief, the surgeons-in-charge, and other necessary offices of the post. Immediately to the south were the hospital wards.
Mr. Parker straightened a perfectly straight cravat. βAre you ready?β
She nodded. Her pulse, which had been beating quickly, had settled down to near normal. Under the circumstances, it was the
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