LITMIR.BIZ

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happy news, Missus Cresta Leigh thought, Oh my god. Now I have to put on those damned hoops. Suggesting to the gallant officer she needed some time alone that afternoon, Cresta experimented. Her two best ballgowns had to be worn with the hoops and the corset. She resigned herself to torture for the evening so far as the corset was concerned, but she was not going to submit to the Iron Maiden for the correct placement of the petticoats. Imagine a lampshade on strings tied around your waist with petticoats over the top and then dream about not being able to sit down. What did these women do at balls or parties? Stand up all night?

      The gown would be the blue silk. It was subtly striped, lace on the upper bodice and at the sleeves. The neckline was fairly low, and she knew the corset was going to give her more cleavage than she’d like. Well, she was supposed to be a widow, not a virgin. The back of the gown had gathers that literally made her rear look like a whale but that was the fashion. Had she donned the petticoat hoops, she’d have looked like the Queen Mary. Hair? The blue tiara. It looked as though composed of diamonds except they were blue and were not precious. Formal. The tiara would be appropriate. She seemed to remember that gloves would not be appropriate with this look since dinner had to be eaten—but a bracelet and fan would be acceptable. There were so many rules to remember, and she had probably made a mistake on that first informal supper with the Colonel because she’d worn gloves, had to take them off and keep track of them all evening.

      When Cresta was finally ready, she walked down the central staircase to the formal vestibule, trying to be calm. She wore the blue silk gown with the fabric gathers in back. On her feet were watered silk dancing shoes, a wide bracelet graced her left wrist, a fan attached to the wrist by a small cord. Red hair was heaped carefully on top of her head, and the blue tiara twinkled. The shoulders of the gown were brief, and décolletage on view revealed a bit of cleavage. She was a little nervous since she had not appeared like this in public before, but gentlemen she passed along the way were giving her discreet glances of approval.

      Myles had changed into his formal officer’s uniform, which was comprised of navy-blue jacket with a double row of seven brass buttons each down the front, high collar accented with gold trim. Across the chest of the jacket were draped two gold Aiguillettes with waffle cords. Two medals were pinned to the frock coat on the left side of the chest; around his waist, a yellow silken sash with ends falling to the left trouser leg. He wore a belt over the sash, and his Cavalry sword rode at his left hip. The blue military trousers were adorned with single gold stripes down the legs. Rather than the epaulettes Cresta had previously seen, this evening, he was wearing gold shoulder boards; for insignia, each with one silver oak leaf, the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.

      In short, he looked regally magnificent, and his smile of welcome pretty much said the same thing about her. A handsome couple who were then escorted into the elegant Grand Saloon and directly to the Captain’s table. Of course, other seated ladies and gentlemen watched the procession with interest. Once at the table, the Captain rose, and the maître d’ intoned, “Captain Haynes? May I present Lieutenant Colonel Myles Keogh and his companion, Missus Cresta Leigh.”

      Everyone nodded congenially, and the other male guests at the table rose for introductions. Mr. Aloysius O’drette, legal representative for the New York firm, Mason and Mason. His companion was the society matron, Missus Antoinette MacRae. The man dressed in the formal uniform of a US Army Second Lieutenant was introduced as Gaylen Jefferson, 154th New York Infantry, with his wife, the lovely Missus Cordelia Jefferson. Finally, a jolly-looking rascal wearing a green frock coat, patterned scarf, sporting a long and expertly oiled handlebar moustache. As he was introduced as an entertainer known as Master of Illusion, the man gave Cresta a wicked glance and twirled one end of his moustache, saying, “How do you do, young lady? Lieutenant Colonel?”

      The Master of Illusion lamented he had no lady companion at present but was looking to correct that situation once the games room was opened. It was well-known among the single gentlemen on board that the games room, ostensibly designed for men to drink, smoke, and play cards, welcomed the company of a small cadre of ladies who entertained, sang, danced, offered companionship…all on the up and up, you know (wink wink). These ladies were rarely seen up on decks during the day. Cresta thought the scoundrel was most likely a card shark and probably adept at relieving gentlemen of their wallets without their knowledge.

      As everyone smiled and nodded and gentlemen resettled, Cresta and Myles seated, the waiter hurried over with a tray of filled champagne flutes for the ladies and glasses of whiskey for the gentlemen. The Master of Illusion offered the first toast to the Captain; there would be many more as the evening progressed.

      After initial toasts to the captain’s health and safe passage, Keogh turned to the man seated next to him, Second Lieutenant Gaylen Jefferson.

      “Did I hear correctly that you are attached to the one hundred fifty-fourth Infantry out of New York? Were you at Gettysburg, sir?”

      When Jefferson confirmed the fact, Myles grinned and slapped him on the back.

      “Were you with the unit trapped in the brickyard by the Rebs?”

      Jefferson turned excitedly. “I was! That was old John Kuhn’s brickyard. Those Rebs had us pinned down in there. I heard the mortality rate in our unit was over seventy percent.”

      “I was on General John Buford’s staff!”

      “So you were the boys in the Cavalry who held the line against the Rebs and gave us time to fall back! You covered us all the way to Seminary Ridge!”

      The two soldiers proceeded to forget anyone else was on the ship, let alone at the table. Keogh and Jefferson told a story about how General Buford knew the Confederates managed to get north of Gettysburg and that it wouldn’t long until a battle was joined. Not just Confederates but General Lee and the entire Army of Northern Virginia. Buford knew higher ground was easier to defend, so he ordered his cavalry to hold the Rebs back in hopes reinforcements in the way of Generals Howard and Reynolds’ First Corps would arrive in time. The order was to cover any Union men and make an orderly fall back to Seminary Ridge where they would have a chance. Once on the ridge, Rebs were coming at them from everywhere, but the Yanks dug in. During the night, the Cavalry dismounted and fought side by side with the Infantry all night long, the fighting so intense it was hand-to-hand. On the morning of July 1, Howard and Reynolds did arrive, and Buford was able to take his exhausted, hungry cavalrymen on to Taneytown for some rest.

      “You were out of the thick of it after that? Well sir, I cannot tell you how grateful those of us who survived were to see you horse-boys. You did a remarkable job under difficult circumstances.”

      Keogh raised his glass. “To those we have lost. May they be remembered.”

      Missus MacRae giggled. “All this talk of battles and charges! My goodness, it’s so exciting! I think military men are so gallant and heroic.” Realizing what she’d said, the woman simpered at her escort and corrected, “Next to handsome lawyers, that is!” O’drette did not smile. Replete with whiskey, the lawyer leaned back in his chair and fixed Keogh with a gaze.

      “Cavalry officers. Heroic, honorable, noble. Isn’t that right, Lieutenant Colonel?”

      Suddenly on edge and alert, Keogh raised his glass of whiskey. “That is what I understand, Mister O’drette.”

      “Strange.” O’drette looked around the table. “Strange that such an honorable, upright-ranking senior office would risk the reputation of an…innocent young widow.”

      Cresta was suddenly drawn into the conversation and wished very much she were someplace else. As it was, she put a discreet hand on Keogh’s arm and squeezed, warning him to behave. Too late. The Lieutenant Colonel tensed, put down his glass, and demanded O’drette make himself plain.

      “All right. I’m surprised you wish your…companion to remain. I believe the other night I saw you, Lieutenant Colonel, making for your own cabin after leaving a certain Apartment A-14 with your boots and uniform jacket in hand. Sir, I believe it was around daybreak?”

      As Keogh stood, so did Cresta. She intentionally put just an extra hint of Southern into her voice.

      “Now,

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