Mary Schaller - Beloved Enemy

As the music began, Julia saw her sister for the first time that evening. Carolyn was in the center of the room in the arms of an officer wearing bright red Turkish trousers. The man was practically galloping her down the length of the dance floor.

Leaning down, Rob observed, “Now there is a pretty minx who will leave many a broken heart in her wake.” He nodded toward Carolyn. “She’s a candidate for ruination.”

Julia gulped. “I fear you are right. That’s my sister.”

Rob groaned. Then he turned to her with apology in his chocolate-brown eyes. “Forgive me again, Mistress Cobweb. It is the knavish spirit within me. Is your sister named Peaseblossom for the color of her gown?” he added in a rush.

Julia knew her mother would swoon if she saw Carolyn just now. To the major’s anxious look, she remarked, “No, we left Peaseblossom at home to grow some more. That is Mustardseed, so called because she will indeed add a great deal of spice to life.”

Finally, Rob smiled at her just as he had done earlier in the supper room. Hoping that their awkward episode was behind them, Julia returned his smile. Then she glanced back at the dance floor.

“Hellfire!” she gasped with horror under her breath.

As Carolyn’s partner whirled her faster, her sister’s mask slipped down to her neck, revealing her identity for all the world to see!

Across the room, Melinda Winstead stared at the petite blonde in the blue gown who had skittered to a stop in the middle of the dance floor. Within the blink of an eye, the girl pulled up her mask again, but it was too late. Melinda had gotten a good enough look to know that the lively flirt in the arms of a New York Zouave was none other than that brat, Carolyn Chandler.

“What a brazen little hussy!” Melinda hissed, as she watched Carolyn attract all sorts of admiring glances from half the men in the room. She couldn’t have come here alone.

Melinda scanned the other dancers, then her gaze roved over the crowd on the sidelines. She paused when she saw a slim woman in a green gown with that unmistakable auburn hair—and wearing an exact copy of Carolyn’s mask. Melinda snorted through her nose. Julia Chandler! How dare those Secessionists presume to come to her ball! Melinda’s outrage grew even more livid when she noticed that Julia was in the company of an absolutely gorgeous major—easily the handsomest man at the party.

Turning on her heel, Melinda dashed through her guests and crossed the hall to the library where she knew her father entertained some of the older men with bourbon and risqué stories. As she hoped, George Winstead stood at ease with his back to the crackling fire in the center of the book-lined room. Cigar smoke tinted the air blue.

Barely acknowledging the surprised stares of her father’s cronies, Melinda demanded the attention of her frowning parent. She paid no mind to his understandable displeasure at her intrusion into his male sanctum.

“Papa, you must come quickly!” She grabbed him by his arm.

George put down his whiskey glass on the blotter of his polished mahogany desktop. “Here now, young lady. What has happened? Is there a row brewing?” Though his tone was mild, his words held a sharp bite.

Melinda gave him another tug. “Not yet, but there soon will be. Papa, you must come now.”

Giving his hasty apologies to his surprised friends, George allowed her to drag him across to the reception room. His frown deepened when he saw nothing to warrant Melinda’s ill manners. She wanted to stamp her foot with frustration at his obtuseness.

She pointed to Carolyn who had finished romping on the dance floor and now fanned herself on the sidelines to the pleasure of her grinning partner. “Over there, Papa! See her? That’s Carolyn Chandler. She had the brass to come to our house uninvited, and unwanted, too.”

Then she directed her father’s attention to Julia, who crossed the room to join her sister. That too-handsome major followed her like a puppy dog. Disgusting! “And there’s that horrid Julia Chandler. I’m surprised that she could bear to leave her precious books. Their presence insults our family, Papa. Evict them at once!”

George merely patted his daughter’s arm, and shushed her as if she were a four-year-old crying for more ice cream. “Hush up, Melinda,” he said in her ear. “I will do no such thing. How they got in here, I cannot imagine, but since they are under our roof, I will not be inhospitable.”

Melinda gasped as if her father had just doused her with cold water. “Those Chandlers are nothing but trashy Confederates. How can you—?”

George squeezed her arm in a viselike grip. “See here, missy! Dr. Chandler did me the good service of bringing you into this world eighteen years ago. I don’t hold with his sentiments, but he’s a good man at heart, despite his shrew of a wife. Don’t forget that his daughters were once your playmates when you children were in short frocks.”

Melinda pulled herself away from him and rubbed her arm where her skin bore the red imprints of his fingers. “Julia is so puffed up with her book-learning that it makes me want to scream, and her little sister is a brat, plain and simple. They are wrecking our lovely party.” Several nearby guests stopped their conversations and stared at the father and daughter, but Melinda didn’t care.

George whispered in her ear. “Lower your voice or I will send you to your room for the rest of the evening, Miss Winstead. I will not have you cause a scene, especially when none is necessary. The Chandler girls are behaving themselves much better than you, and I see no harm in allowing them a little fun in their lives. Julia hasn’t been out in society since Frank Shaffer died, and little Carolyn not at all.”

He chuckled. “Though I can see that Carolyn has done some growing since the war began. Behave yourself, Melinda, and pay them no mind. They will be gone soon enough, I expect, and there will be an end to the matter. I have paid a great deal of money so that you could enjoy the company of your friends tonight. Now do it and leave me in peace with mine.” With that, he returned to the library.

Melinda’s cheeks burned under her father’s admonishment. He had no right to speak to her that way. Mama would have understood her feelings completely. She certainly wouldn’t want any Confederates under her roof, even if they were former friends. Melinda realized that she had miscalculated which parent she should have approached. She knew without looking, that Papa was speaking to Mama even now, telling her about their uninvited guests and his decision to let them be.

Very well, Melinda decided. She wouldn’t attempt to throw out the Chandlers herself, but that didn’t mean she had to overlook their atrocious lapse in manners. Pasting on her best smile, she swept her way over to Julia and her escort. By the time she reached them, Carolyn had returned to the dance floor with yet another swain. Melinda burned with jealousy. These chits would pay, she vowed.

“Good evening, Julia,” she purred, coming up behind the older girl. It gave her satisfaction to see Julia jump at her name.

The young woman slowly turned around as did the man beside her. Seeing him at closer quarters, Melinda was momentarily distracted from her mission. He had the most beautiful dark brown hair with a curl that dropped over his forehead in an appealing way. Strong jaw, high cheekbones and very, very seductive eyes behind that mask. He was too delicious by a country mile.

Giving herself a shake, Melinda returned to Julia. “What a surprise to see you here—in our house!” she continued in sugar-sweet tones. “I can’t imagine how you got invited, can you, Julia?” She cast a quick smile at the silent man. “Tell me, Major, did you come to our party tonight without a proper invitation?”