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door in Jack’s face, and hurried to his office, where she ransacked his papers, determined to find the pass and tear it to shreds.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked.

“I’m going to tear it up.”

Jack threw himself down into the chair, and it creak under his weight. “Sit down and get a grip. You’re being irrational. I haven’t seen you like this since…I’ve never seen you like this. What’s going on with you? This isn’t about going to Richmond, is it?”

She dropped into the chair across the desk from him. “You live in a pretend world where heroes always win and lovers find their happily-ever-after, but it’s not the real world, Jack. Heroes die and people live sad, incomplete lives.”

“What does this have to do with rescuing Braham?”

She glanced down at her hands and bit her lower lip, sorting through her jumbled thoughts. Then she glanced up to find him looking at her, a slight smile hidden in the corner of his mouth. “We’re not heroes, Jack, and we don’t have to pretend we are.”

“Is that what happened at Cedar Creek? Were you trying to be a hero?”

She wasn’t sure what to say, so she said nothing.

“You play it safe every day, sis. Yet all your patients and their families see you as their hero. The one time you do something you believe is truly heroic, not only did you almost die, but the plantation was threatened and you were forced into an even more dangerous situation.

“You saved Braham once and, as a result, you’re here now trying to keep him from changing history. We can leave him in Richmond and let him die, and then go home confident in the conviction we’ve made history safe again. Is that what you want?”

“Damn you.” She swiped her hand across the desk, sending a stack of books to the floor. “No. I don’t want him to die.”

“I don’t either. Somehow, I’m going to rescue him.”

“Even knowing what’s about to happen in Richmond, the fire, the devastation, the danger?” She was scared, but not for herself alone. The two men she loved could be taken from her in an instant. Her mother had lost the man she loved and had grieved for him for the rest of her short life.

Jack drilled her with a look of mild exasperation. “I don’t know why the brooch was sent to you, but it was, and subsequently Braham’s life was saved. Call it Fate, call it the work of the Cosmos, call it God working in mysterious ways. Something bigger than both of us is happening here. You once described me as a hound dog on the scent of a story…” His voice trailed away and worry clouded his eyes. “You probably got it right, sis. But there’s one thing I know for sure: I will see this though, with or without you.”

Her heart accelerated, thudding in her chest. “Where I go, you go. Where you go, I go. We’re in this together. If trouble comes, we can leave on a whisper, but we can’t if we’re separated.” The crutch supporting the weight of her resolve to be brave splintered into pieces, and tears hovered very near the surface.

Edward came to the library door dressed in his evening livery, smelling of sandalwood and wax, and calmly announced, “Mr. Gaylord is here.”

Braham’s retainer. Charlotte raised her eyebrows at Jack.

“Give us five minutes then send him in,” Jack said. The fire had burned down and the room held a chill. He tossed in more kindling and poked at the dying embers.

For a moment Charlotte thought she had stopped breathing, though her chest continued to rise and fall. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, wiping away any telltale gleam of moisture, composing herself quickly.

Jack set down the poker, squared his shoulders, and conjured a smile.

The short, stocky man with a weatherworn face who had escorted Charlotte to Richmond months earlier entered the room. “Mr. Mallory, Doctor Mallory. I’ll get right to the point. Major McCabe has been working undercover in Richmond. Last night, he was rounded up with other sympathizers and incarcerated in Castle Thunder. The major’s instructions were to notify you immediately if anything happened to him while you were still in the city.”

Jack sat on the edge of the desk, twisting the family signet ring around and around the knuckle on the third finger of his left hand. “I heard the news a couple of hours ago. Charlotte and I have been discussing what to do.”

Gaylord’s dark brows went up. “If you intend to attempt a rescue, I’ll see you through the lines and provide an introduction to Miss Van Lew. She’s quite resourceful.”

“A Southern lady or Yankee spy?” Charlotte quoted the opposing labels from a book she’d read about the lady patriot. “How soon can you be ready to leave, Gaylord?”

He lifted a watch fob from his waistcoat, pursing his lips and frowning in thought. The fingers of his right hand twitched as if he were mentally counting. Finally he cleared his throat and said, “It’ll take three hours to gather supplies and make necessary arrangements.”

“Will we travel by horseback or boat?” Charlotte asked, doing her own calculations as to how long it would take her to pack.

“Time is of the essence. I’ll arrange passage on the fastest ship available.”

“How much money will you need?” Jack asked.

Gaylord waved his hand in a shooing motion. “I have access to sufficient funds.” He then addressed Charlotte. “Since you have the propensity for dressing in men’s clothing, I suggest you travel in disguise, at least until we reach Richmond. There you’ll be safer dressed as yourself. I’ll arrange for the necessary work papers for you, Mr. Mallory, or else you’ll be conscripted and sent to the front lines to guard the city.”

Charlotte exhaled a thin stream of air. “Did you know I was a woman when you guided me to Richmond last October?”

One corner of Gaylord’s mouth curled wryly. “Not at first, but within a few hours of City

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