Two more women slipped out of bed to join them at the window. “That one at the fence is from Richmond,” Ludmila said. “I’ve never seen a man fill out a uniform so well.”
The four of them watched the guards, speculating on their marital status and wondering what Caroline might expect for a late birthday present. She sincerely hoped it would not involve a navy serenade, for she didn’t want anyone getting into trouble over this, and Nathaniel wasn’t in a joking mood.
“Maybe whoever’s sending the presents already works in the White House,” one of the maids suggested. “It could be a secret admirer. Who could it be?”
“Mr. Cortelyou?” Betsy asked.
“Yuck,” Ludmila whispered. “Can you imagine kissing a man with a mustache like that?”
“Stop.” Caroline giggled. “I have to work with him every day. Please don’t plant such images in my mind.”
“I wouldn’t mind working with Mr. Cortelyou,” Betsy said. “I like a man with a fine mustache.”
That triggered a discussion of whether George was kissable or not. Caroline definitely thought not, but Betsy began pointing out each guard as they crossed the lawn during their rounds, speculating on their eligibility.
“What about the head guard? Mr. Trask?” Ludmila asked. “Would he be good for kissing?”
It was a good thing it was dark so they couldn’t see Caroline flush. No one asked her opinion, but all three women agreed Mr. Trask was too straitlaced to kiss.
Caroline secretly disagreed. The kiss they’d shared on the back steps during the state dinner had been the most tenderly romantic moment of her life. She contributed nothing to the speculation, but this midnight huddle by the window was fun. It made her wish she’d had sisters.
It was after one o’clock when exhaustion prompted her to surrender and crawl into bed, for she had a long day tomorrow. If some sort of birthday present was truly coming, it would arrive whether she watched at the window or not.
The next morning she rose at the same time as the kitchen maids, pulling on a dress and finger-combing her hair. She could style it properly later, but for now she needed to know if anything had mysteriously arrived overnight.
Nathaniel sat at the kitchen table, looking tired as he nursed a cup of coffee. She made a quick survey of the room, noting the bowls of eggs and a mound of oranges delivered for this morning’s breakfast.
“Well?” she asked a little breathlessly.
“Nothing.” He looked half annoyed, as though it was her fault he’d chosen to stay up all night.
A trickle of disappointment tugged, even though the absence of an overnight incursion was surely for the best. She didn’t want anyone getting into trouble on her behalf, but a tiny piece of her longed for a hint that Luke’s sense of mischief was still alive.
“I’m sorry you went to such trouble for nothing,” she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“It wasn’t for nothing. I suspect those patrolling guards prevented another infestation of artichokes or whatever your brother had planned. Besides, the 15th has only just begun. I’ll have my men patrolling tonight as well.”
He didn’t sound happy about it, but that was his problem, not hers. Her entire morning was spent with Ida, discussing the food to be served at the inaugural ball. Then she met with the head of the Marine band to discuss music to be played during the parade and festivities. Then an officer from the Department of the Interior wanted to confirm the route of the inaugural parade.
Throughout it all, she wondered if a gift had been delivered, but there was no sign of anything.
At dinner, the staff dining room was crowded due to Nathaniel’s additional security guards. To call this space a dining room was a stretch. It was merely an open area on the far side of the kitchen with four tables, each large enough for six people. Staff came down at odd hours to serve themselves from the sideboard filled with food warmers. It was always an odd mix, as upstairs ushers wearing formal suits dined alongside the cleaning staff and gardeners.
The extra policemen took an entire table, while Betsy and Ludmila stole glances from the neighboring table. Such excitement over six young men! Hopefully tomorrow Nathaniel could ease up, and life would return to normal. As it was, he lookedtired as he sat beside Sullivan, finalizing the patrol schedule for the evening.
Caroline felt his eyes on her as she walked to the sideboard and filled a plate with green beans and a slice of ham. She scanned the room, looking for a spot to sit. Sullivan noticed and slid over on the bench, leaving her just enough space on the end.
The hallway clock struck six o’clock, and three of the guards vacated their seats as they headed out to patrol. It was a good thing, for George had just arrived. Finally! It was odd to go an entire day without seeing him before dinner.
“Busy day?” she asked as he sat at the neighboring table.
He nodded. “The president and I were over at Treasury. The budget was just delivered, and it’s always a monster.”
That went without saying. The budget was compiled by the House of Representatives and was responsible for the entirety of federal spending for the coming year, and the president needed to know precisely what he had to work with.
“How many pages this year?” she asked.
“Over a hundred,” George grumbled. “Someday the government needs to get organized. The president ought to be able to allocate funding as he sees fit, but just try wresting that power out of Congress. Humph! Instead, we’ve got dozens of agencies throwing their demands at Congress, where it all gets printed up, and the money is supposed to magically appear on the fifteenth of November. I have no idea how we’ll pay for everything.”
