Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [147]
“They say there are all sorts of spies living among us,” one of the generals’ wives confided. “They even come to gatherings like this one. They hear every word our leaders speak in private and take it straight to the enemy. And they do it for money—can you imagine?”
“That’s what upset my Lewis so much—the way those people deceived us all. Mr. Webster worked side-by-side with him. His wife even wore a secession badge. They worshipped with us at church, worked in the hospitals—and all this time they’ve been lying to us.”
“I think they should both hang,” the general’s wife said. “Their treachery not only cost the lives of our men on the battlefield, but it put all of us at terrible risk. If the Yankees were to take Richmond, heaven only knows what they would do to us.”
Mrs. St. John shuddered. “God will repay them for their deeds.”
I stared at the floor, terrified to meet anyone’s gaze, certain that these women would see me for what I was. Fear of being caught, of being hung for treason, vibrated through me. I wanted this party to end. I wanted nothing to do with passing information to Mr. Ferguson, to Robert, or to the Yankees. I couldn’t remember why I had ever decided to do such a thing in the first place. I glanced up to see if anyone had noticed my anxiety, and I saw Tessie standing a few feet away. I could tell that she wanted to speak with me, but she hadn’t wanted to interrupt. I thanked God for the timely escape.
“Excuse me please, ladies. I believe my servant needs me.” I hoped my voice sounded normal.
I clung to Tessie’s arm as we walked into the dining room. At first she didn’t notice anything wrong with me or realize that I was hanging on to her for support.
“Esther’s wondering when you want us to serve the coffee and dessert,” she began. Then she looked at me for the first time. “What’s wrong, honey? You looking like you about to faint. You need smelling salts?”
“The women were talking about those two spies who were caught . . . the Websters.” My heart pounded against my corset stays. “I . . . I don’t think I can do this, Tessie. What Robert asked me to do is too hard.”
She rested her hands on my bare shoulders, steadying me, reassuring me. “No one saying you have to, honey. And no one blaming you if you can’t. Seems like you done plenty already.”
“Thanks.” I saw Tessie’s love for me in her warm brown eyes and felt my strength slowly returning.
All of a sudden Tessie gave a little gasp of surprise. A look crossed her face that I’d never seen before, a look of wonder and inexpressible joy.
“What is it, Tessie? Tell me.”
In an instant, panic replaced her joy. When she rested her hand against her stomach protectively, I knew. Josiah had gone back to the war with Jonathan last November, five months ago.
“You’re going to have a baby, aren’t you?” I said.
Tessie nodded fearfully. I smiled and pulled her into my arms. “It’s all right, Tessie. I’m happy for you.” I felt the tension leave her as she hugged me in return.
“Let me see you,” I said when we finally separated. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed before. Tessie’s slender, hourglass figure was fuller, the waistband of her skirt an inch higher. And a quiet joy overspread her face.
“I felt the baby move just now,” she said shyly. “Ain’t no feeling like that in the whole world. Ain’t no way to describe what it feels like to have him kicking . . . and knowing there’s a life inside there. He’s part of me, part of Josiah, yet he his own person. You’ll see for yourself, someday, with Massa Charles’ baby.”
Life. A new child. Life was going to go on, to triumph even in the middle of all the suffering and death. At that moment I wanted the war to end more than I ever had before. I wanted Charles to come home to me, safe and alive. I wanted to create a new life that would be his and mine and yet its own.
And I wanted Tessie’s child to be born a free person, free from the fear and uncertainty his parents lived with. I remembered why I was doing this, why I was risking my life to help my nation’s enemies.