"Some —" Cooper gulped half of the claret, dribbling dark drops on his already-stained shirt bosom "— some in this town drink real coffee and write with real ink. Some can pay for those things." He stared at his brother. "Our sister, for one."
"Is that right?" Madeline said with forced lightness. Cooper's stare was sullen, his speech slurred. Something ugly was in the air.
"I'll grant you Ashton lives in a fine house," Orry said. "And on the few occasions when I've seen her on the street, she's always been handsomely dressed — Worth of Paris or something equivalent. I can't imagine how she affords it on Huntoon's salary. Most clerks in the government make a pittance."
Cooper drew a long, raspy breath. Judith clenched her hands beneath the table. The shout of a water seller reached them through open front windows, then the creak of his wagon. "I can tell you how they afford luxuries, Orry. They're profiteers."
Madeline's mouth formed a little o. Orry put down the fork with greens. "That's a serious accusation."
"I was on her ship, God damn it!"
"Dear," Judith began, "perhaps we'd better —"
"It's time they knew."
"What ship do you mean?" Orry said. "The blockade-runner that went down? The one you —?"
"Yes, I mean Water Witch. Ashton and her husband owned a substantial interest in it. The owners issued standing orders for the skipper to run the blockade at all hazards. We did, and I lost my son."
He shoved back hair hanging over his forehead, and in the midst of all the shocks, Madeline noticed for the first time that Cooper was going gray. "For Christ's sake, Orry, either pour the wine or pass it here."
Noticeably upset, Orry filled Cooper's glass again. "Who else knows about Ashton and James?"
"The other owners, I suppose. I never heard their names. The only man on the ship who seemed privy to the information was the skipper, Ballantyne, and he went down like —" Cooper's face wrenched. The memory was too hard to articulate.
He drank. Stared at the flame of the candle in front of him. "I'd like to kill her," he said, bringing the empty goblet down so hard the stem snapped.
Everyone stared. "Excuse me," Cooper said, bolting from his chair. It fell backward with a crash. He flung out his hand to prevent a collision with the wall and lurched to the parlor. He managed to reach the settee before he passed out.
They heard a rain shower starting. A sudden breeze set the candle flames in motion. Judith again apologized for Cooper's behavior. Stricken, Orry said apology was unnecessary. "But I hope he didn't mean that last remark."
"I'm sure he didn't. The loss of Judah was grievous for both of us, but it seems to have done special damage to him."
Orry sighed. "All his life he's expected the world to be better than it is. People with that kind of idealism get hurt worst of all. I hope he won't do anything rash, Judith. Ashton has already failed at the one thing she wanted most in Richmond — to belong to the best circles. I expect punishment for the profiteering will find her eventually. If he tries to judge and sentence her" — he glanced over his shoulder at the sad scarecrow figure on the settee — "he'll only harm himself."
The wind gusted, lifting the parlor curtains, stirring the gray-streaked hair on Cooper's forehead. Judith said, "I try to tell him that. It does no good. He's drinking heavily, as you surely noticed. I fear what he might do sometime when he's had too much."
Softly said, the words put dread into Orry. The three sat in silence, listening to the rain come down on the roof and the ruins of the evening.
Copies of the Richmond Enquirer reached the Winder Building every week. One issue, which George read with mingled curiosity and sadness, contained several long articles describing Jackson's funeral. On an inside page was a list of high-ranking military officers who had marched in the procession. Among the names he discovered that of his best friend.
"There it is — Colonel Orry Main," he said to Constance, showing her the paper that night. "He's listed with others from the War Department."
"Does that mean he's in Richmond?"
"I assume so. Whatever he's doing, I'm sure it's more important than interviewing lunatics and reading the fine print in contracts."
With a touch of regret, she said, "Your guilt's getting the best of you again."
He folded the paper. "Yes, it is. Daily."
Homer stepped into the dining room, pausing beside the open-fronted cabinet that contained Ashton's fine blue jasperware. Water Witch had brought the set from Britain on her penultimate voyage.
Huntoon took off his spectacles. "Mr. Main? Which one? Orry?"
As always, it was Ashton to whom the elderly Negro addressed the reply. "No. The other one."
"Cooper? Why, James, I had no idea he was in Richmond."
Thunder boomed in the northwest; bluish light glittered throughout the downstairs. It was June, muggy, the town astir with rumors of an impending invasion of the North by General Lee.
"He is here, he is very definitely here," said a thick voice from the shadows outside the dining room. Into the doorway stepped a frightening figure — Cooper, right enough, but aged since Ashton had last seen him. Horribly aged and gray. His cheeks had a waxy pallor, and his whiskey stench rolled over the table like a wave, submerging the aroma of the bowl of fresh flowers in the center. "He's here and anxious to see how his dear sister and her husband are enjoying their newfound wealth."
"Cooper dear —" Ashton began, sensing danger, trying to turn it aside with a treacly smile. Cooper refused to let her say more.
"Very fine house you have. Splendid furnishings. Treasury salaries must be larger than those in the Navy Department. Must be enormous."
Trembling, Huntoon clutched the arms of his chair. With a laconic hand, Cooper reached toward the open shelves. Ashton's fist clenched when he plucked out one of the delicately shaded blue plates.
"Lovely stuff, this. Surely you didn't buy it locally. Did it come in on a blockade-runner? In place of guns and ammunition for the army, perhaps —?"
He threw the plate down with great force. Splinters of the white Greek figure embossed in the center rebounded into the light. One struck the back of Huntoon's hand. He muttered a protest no one heard.
Ashton said, "Brother dear, I am at a loss to explain your visit or your churlish behavior. Furthermore, while you're as disagreeable as you ever were, I am astounded to hear what sounds like patriotic maundering. You used to scorn James when he gave speeches in support of secession or states' rights. But here you are, sounding like the hottest partisan of Mr. Davis."
She forced a smile, hoping to hide the fear inside. She didn't know this man. She was in the presence of a lunatic whose intentions she could not guess. Without reacting, she saw Homer edging toward Cooper behind his right shoulder. Good.
Ashton placed her elbows on the table and cushioned her chin on her hands. Her smile became a sneer. "When did this remarkable transformation to patriot occur, may I ask?"
"It occurred," Cooper said above the muttering storm, "shortly after my son drowned."
Ashton's control melted into astonishment. "Judah — drowned? Oh, Cooper, how perfectly —"
"We were aboard Water Witch. Nearing Wilmington. The moon was out, the Union blockading squadron present in force. I pleaded with Captain Ballantyne not to risk the run, but he insisted. The owners had issued orders. Maximum risk for maximum earnings."
Ashton's hand fell forward. Her skin felt as if it were frozen.
"You know the rest, Ashton. My son was sacrificed to your intense devotion to the cause —"
"Stop him, Homer," she screamed as Cooper moved. Huntoon started to rise from his chair. Cooper struck the side of his head and knocked his glasses off.