“What state do you represent, Congressman?” I asked Seth, turning my attention away from my mother and her matchmaking ways.
“Call me Seth,” he said, his congenial personality replacing his brusque business persona. “And I’m from South Carolina.”
“Ah.” Why hadn’t I recognized the accent? “South Carolina, the state that finally drew us into the Civil War.”
A slight frown tilted his brow. “I suppose, though that’s not usually people’s first response when I tell them where I’m from.”
“Sorry.” I tried to hide the embarrassment creeping up my neck. Mama often told me not to let one path affect the other, but sometimes it was difficult to separate them. In 1861, all we’d been talking about for days was South Carolina. “I’m sure South Carolina has many fine qualities.”
“Have you been there?”
“I’m afraid not. I’ve spent most of my life in the DC area.”
“Then you’re familiar with the town?”
“Yes.” I smiled. “I know it very well.”
“Would you be willing to give me a personal tour?” He offered me a brilliant smile. “I’ve only been here since January, and I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had the opportunity to sightsee.I know you must be extremely busy, and I hate to ask, but I’m embarrassed to admit that I still need a map to get from the Capitol to the White House.”
I laughed, knowing he was teasing. It would have been almost impossible to get lost since both buildings sat on Pennsylvania Avenue.
“Whenever I admit my inability to someone else, I get treated like a child.” He shook his head, a bit of his humor fading. “I’m already singled out for my lack of experience. I’d hate to ask one of theadultsin the room to give me a tour.”
My laughter continued, though it slowly faded. I couldn’t count how many times I had been treated like a child in my profession. It was a frustrating feeling.
“How about this Saturday?” he asked, his blue eyes alight with hope.
Without realizing it, I let out a heavy breath. My schedule had been so hectic lately that I’d hardly had time to sleep, let alone sightsee. Yet I didn’t have any plans for Saturday, for the first time in months. Perhaps playing tourist would be as close to a vacation as I’d get before the end of the year.
He watched me, waiting. How could I say no to the youngest member of Congress, recently arrived in Washington?
“I would love to show you around the city,” I said.
“Wonderful!” He grinned and then nodded toward the buffet table. “Now, how about we take our chances with that shrimp?”
I laughed, already enjoying his easygoing personality. No wonder he was elected to Congress at a young age.
It was hard not to like Seth Wallace.
4
APRIL 19, 1861
WASHINGTON, DC
The rain had not let up by Friday afternoon, keeping everyone indoors and canceling a garden party I had planned to attend. Instead, I sat in the front parlor of our home on Lafayette Square, trying to stay busy by knitting a pair of socks I would one day give to a soldier. The need for medical and food supplies was going to be great, but I could not begin to act until others were acting, for fear I would change the course of events. Even one little change could have catastrophic ramifications for America.
Joseph entered the parlor with a load of firewood stacked in his arms and fed the fire crackling in the hearth. I set aside my knitting to stretch and extend my cold fingers to the heat.
Papa had walked to the White House earlier, tight-lipped about what was happening with the war effort. He did not speak to me about the spies again, but that didn’t mean I could forget. Everywhere I went, I was aware of the threat. I guarded what I said and who I spoke to with great care, always on the lookout for possible enemies.
“Any news today?” I asked Joseph, who had been running errands for Papa.
Joseph stood and brushed his hands off over the fire to remove the debris that clung to his skin. “Word finally arrived about those soldiers coming through Baltimore.”
For days, we’d been waiting for help from the north, fearing that our enemies might attack at any moment. But the only way into Washington from the north was through Baltimore, which was a Southern-sympathizing city.
“Are they here?”
