“A man who still loves his wife.” Thea smiled. “How romantic.”
Devon fought to smother his scowl. There was nothing romantic about death and grieving. This girl was as shallow as a slipper. “But eventually, I determined that a man of any conscience couldn’t stay out of this war forever.” That part was true. “I figured that if Isabella were still alive, she’d understand.”
“Oh, I’m sure she would.” Mrs. LeBeau moved her jeweled hand across the lace tablecloth as if she might actually touch him but stopped short.
Devon shifted in his chair. Too much talk of Isabella. Too many raw emotions. “After Belknap, I decided that if I was going to fight, I was going to do it on my own terms.” Devon picked up his knife. “I evaded the colonel’s clutches and made my way east. A few months later, I enlisted in the Third Texas Cavalry from Marshall.” He stabbed his fork in a slice of chicken and prayed they didn’t have friends or family anywhere near Marshall. “Like too many others, I thought we’d whip the Yankees in a few more months.”
LeBeau puffed out his chest. “If the generals had done rightby our men, we’d have whipped those factory-boy bluecoats in less than a year.” His voice rose. “But with leaders like Pemberton, handing over Vicksburg without a full fight, it’s no wonder we haven’t defeated them yet.”
“You weren’t at Vicksburg, were you, Lieutenant?” Thea batted her eyelashes.
Flickering light from the chandelier cast shadows on the cherry-bramble wallpaper.
“No, Miss LeBeau. But I saw some of those men. Nothing more than scarecrows after the siege.” Or so he’d heard. “I was wounded in a fight around Jackson, Mississippi, shortly after that.” He tapped a finger to his eyepatch. Best paint a quick picture for them before they had a chance to ask too many questions. He had no idea how complete the information was from the deserter-turned-Yankee he’d questioned in Brownsville. “I got left behind when the Yanks retook the city. Managed to get a parole by the time I was well enough to leave the hospital. Reckon they didn’t want to bother shipping me north. Probably doubted I’d be fit for service.”
“You poor man.” Thea opened her fan and fluttered it in front of her face.
Devon’s cheeks heated.
“So you came back home to Texas?” Mrs. LeBeau scooped a spoonful of squash.
“Yes, ma’am. Until I could recover. Had a hankering to see my sister in Brownsville. But the Yankees invaded before I got within fifty miles of the city. Been drifting north since then.”
LeBeau held up his brandy snifter toward a butler who stood at attention by the walnut sideboard. “What about your family? Doesn’t your father have a plantation up north near the Trinity River?”
“Stepfather.” An edge crept into Devon’s voice.
LeBeau’s eyebrows arched.
Devon swiped a napkin over his mouth. “He and I don’texactly see eye to eye. I’m in no hurry to visit him. I was hoping you might need a hand, or perhaps you could be a reference for me in Columbus or Alleyton. I’m looking for a temporary position before I head back across the Mississippi to find my regiment?—”
“Papa you need all kinds of help.” Thea leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Owens can’t manage anything right. You said so?—”
“Not a topic for the ladies.” LeBeau swished his newly poured brandy in his snifter and gave Thea a stare that managed to shut even her mouth. “We’ll discuss it after dinner, Reynolds. I’m sure something can be arranged.”
Thea beamed in Devon’s direction.
He shifted his gaze back to her father. “Thank you, sir.” His skin itched beneath the eyepatch. Too many more looks from Thea, and he’d feel as if he’d just bathed in a patch of poison ivy. But wars weren’t won by bullets alone. He pressed his hands on the table.
“You must tell us about your plantation.” Thea wrapped an auburn curl around her index finger. “I’d love to hear about your home.”
River Place was no home of his. Devon sat back in the fine cherry straight-back chair. What kind of dinner was Morning Fawn having? Did they bother sending a tray up to her? Surely, they wouldn’t really lock her in the attic and dose her with laudanum. “Will Miss Logan be joining us for dessert?”
Thea snorted.
LeBeau’s fork clunked on the table. “I’m afraid she won’t be down for meals for a few days. Once she gets herself worked up into one of her tirades, it can take a while to settle her down.”
Worked up? Morning Fawn had been calm enough as she’d marched into the house. Silently fuming, no doubt. Most likely ready to break away at the first opportunity. But to keep her upstairs for days? Like keeping a cougar in a barn. “I apologizeonce again if I did her any injury when I pulled her from her horse.”
“We should be apologizing to you, Lieutenant.” Thea’s thin lips didn’t quite hide the traces of her sneer. “I’m surprised she didn’t try to claw your face. You should have seen her the times she tried to escape when she was first brought here. She’s rather tame now compared to then.”
“Thea.” Mrs. LeBeau fidgeted with her napkin. “You’ll have our guest thinking Beth is uncivilized.”
“Isn’t she?” She gave her mother a pointed look. “I’m only?—”
“You ladies forget. Lieutenant Reynolds helped rescue Beth from the Comanches.” LeBeau fingered his watch fob.
“Oh, I bet you could tell us stories, Lieutenant.” Thea squirmed in her chair, probably salivating at the possibility. “What was it like when you first grabbed her? Did you have to use a gun? Did you kill any Comanches?”
