"No, sir, I do not. A dear relative of mine, an aide to General Rosecrans, was slain at Murfreesboro not sixty days ago. There were no remains fit to be returned to his wife and little ones. His body was foully mutilated by those who slew him. Certain parts were —"
He stopped, clearing his throat; he knew he had overstepped.
But not so far as Virgilia was concerned. The man excited her as few had since her acquaintance with the visionary John Brown. She led the visitors through the ward in a curious light-headed state, her mind functioning well enough for her to describe each case, yet a part of it reserved for exhilarated contemplation of the congressman. Did he possibly find her as attractive as she found him?
Unwittingly, she lengthened her description of each patient's diagnosis, until Turner started to tap his foot. When that did no good, he pulled out a large gold watch. "I am afraid we shall have to hurry along, Miss Hazard. We are due to inspect the quartermaster's stores."
"Certainly, Mr. Turner." She hesitated, then reminded herself that if Stout walked out unaware of her reaction to him, she might never see him again. "I wonder if I first might have a moment to speak privately with the congressman? This hospital has certain urgent needs. Perhaps he could help with them."
She knew it was flimsy, but she could think of nothing better. Turner and the balloon-shaped female suspected her game and exchanged sharp looks; propriety was being outraged here. Congressman Stout rolled his hat brim in white fingers, unsmiling except in his dark eyes. He understood, too.
Virgilia turned and walked away. The visitors moved in the opposite direction, one grumbling. Stout followed her. Feeling that she must be scarlet, she halted between two beds in which the patients were asleep. No one could hear when she turned and whispered to Stout.
"I lied a moment ago. Our needs are well supplied."
His eyes drifted to her breasts, then upward again. With his back to the others, he permitted himself a smile. "I thought that might be the happy circumstance. Hoped so, to be truthful."
"I —" She hardly believed it was Virgilia Hazard searching for the words, but it was the new Virgilia, conceived the night Brett came to her and brushed her hair. "— I merely wished to express admiration for your remarks about the enemy. I share your bathing of the South, and I can't tolerate the prospect of a soft peace of the kind Mr. Lincoln advocates."
Stout's lips compressed. "There will be no soft peace if certain of us in Congress have our way." He bent forward, his voice as magnificent as the low registers of a pipe organ. "If you have occasion to visit Washington, it would be pleasant to exchange views on the subject at greater length."
"I — would enjoy that, Congressman. I can understand your passion for prosecuting the war, since you had a relative tortured by the enemy."
"My wife's older brother."
He said it and let it hang between them. She felt as if he had hit her. From the slight curl of his mouth and the expression in his eyes, she knew the revelation was not accidental.
"Your —?"
"Wife," he repeated. "Since we came from Muncie, she has been preoccupied with female society — humanitarian committees, that type of thing. I accompany her in public only when some obligation demands it. I say all this to indicate we have little in common."
"Except a marriage certificate."
"That is rather stiff-necked, Miss Hazard. I am not a man given to falsehoods — except when addressing constituents." The effort to produce a smile failed. "Please, don't be angry. I find you exceedingly attractive. I merely wanted to be candid. If I lied and you found out, you'd think the worse of me."
Her head began to hurt. A queasy conviction came over her that he had said all this before. It had a practiced smoothness.
"My marriage should not be an obstacle to our meeting discreetly for a meal and some stimulating conversation."
She took a step backward. "I'm afraid it definitely is an obstacle."
He frowned. "My dear Miss Hazard, don't let foolish prudery —"
"You must excuse me, Congressman." She spun and walked away.
Virgilia was furious because she had let her emotions betray her — take her by surprise and humiliate her. She had felt a physical desire for the man stronger than any she had experienced since Grady died. The desire was all the sharper because Stout was a person of power and influence.
The image of his eyes, the memories of his reverberating voice brought a look of pain to her face as she crashed through the swing doors at the end of the ward.
"Damn him, damn him, damn him for being married."
69
The taproom was unsavory and in a bad location, down on Q Street near Greenleaf's Point. The place teemed with boisterous officers from the arsenal, goatish civilians, loitering thugs, and prostitutes — white, black, even a Chinese. Jasper Dills had gone there with enormous reluctance and only because a meeting could not be held in his usual, respectable haunts. He was, after all, responding to an appeal from an army deserter.
Dills's driver, who carried a concealed pistol, waited at the copper-clad bar, which helped to relieve the little lawyer's anxiety. One couldn't be too careful in Washington. Even these once-remote warrens of the island swarmed with new inhabitants — speculators, white refugees who had tossed loyalty aside and fled the war-blasted counties of northern Virginia, contrabands of every age and hue. Dills would never risk himself in such surroundings if it weren't for the stipend.
Across the table, Bent said, "I am desperate, Mr. Dills. I have no means of supporting myself."
Dills tapped manicured nails against his glass of mineral water. "Your somewhat incoherent letter managed to make that clear. I'll speak straightforwardly, and I expect you to heed every word. If I make the arrangements — if I write the note I have in mind — you must not place me at risk. You must deal with the gentleman to whom I propose to introduce you as if the past didn't exist. You must wipe from your mind your difficulties at West Point. Your fancied grievances —"
Bent struck the table. "They are not fancied."
"Do that once more," Dills whispered, "and I will get up and leave."
Shaking, Bent covered his eyes. What a contemptible hulk he was, the lawyer thought. "Please, Mr. Dills — I'm sorry. I can overlook the past."
"You'd better. Because of your actions in New Orleans, no legitimate avenues are open to you. This one is marginal at best."
"How — how did you hear about New Orleans?"
"I have ways. I maintain an interest in your career. It isn't material to our discussion. Now, down to cases. You assure me that, so far as you know, you've never met the gentleman under discussion?"
"No."
"But he is probably familiar with your real name. For that reason, and also because he has access to military records, we must outfit you with another. Let's call it your nom de guerre." The conceit produced a cool smile, the lawyer's first during this encounter.
Nom de guerre. Wonderfully fitting, Bent thought. He was still fighting a war, this one for survival, for life itself.
A tawny whore stroked Dills's shoulder. He lifted her hand and flung it off. She glared and waggled away to someone else. Dills sipped his mineral water.
Then he asked, "What name shall I use?"
Bent fingered his jowl. "Something from Ohio? What about Dayton? Ezra Dayton."
"Bland enough," Dills responded, shrugging. "You will have to go to the War Department for the initial meeting. Can you do that?"
"Is there no other —?" He stopped, seeing Dills's hard stare. "Yes, I'm sure I can."
Dills wasn't, but he said, "Very well. Before your late disappearance from the military rolls, you earned something of a reputation for brutality — Oh, don't gasp and feign innocence. I've seen copies of your records. In this instance, that unpleasant propensity works to your advantage. Write the address of your rooming house on this piece of paper. Tomorrow I'll send a messenger with an envelope addressed to Ezra Dayton, Esquire. The envelope will contain a second, sealed one, which you must not open. That will be my note of introduction, recommending you for employment by the secretary's aide for domestic security, Stanley Hazard."