attention they lavished on Emily, but she wished to be anywhere but here with these vapid Southernaristocrats. Only when the conversation turned to the Gray Wraith did her interest pique.
“You’ll be happy to learn, Miss Harrison, being a Unionist, that the Gray Wraith never harms a hair on a Yankee head,” said the older of the two men. “Why, he doesn’t even carry a firearm.” He nodded his head, revealing a shiny, bald patch of scalp.
“He does carry a saber, but I understand he uses it solely to sever the purse strings of rich businessmen,” the younger of the pair added to the great entertainment of all. “More wine, Miss Harrison?”
“No, thank you. I don’t imbibe. And I fail to comprehend how being a thief is a noble occupation, gentlemen.” Emily kept her voice low with great effort.
“Ah, the difference is that our mysterious Wraith steals food only to feed a hungry army, medicine for the wounded in field hospitals, and clothing to keep our boys in the Shenandoah warm.”
“I understand he also steals money from the Federal Army payrolls.” Emily’s voice rose in agitation despite her desire not to embarrass the Benningtons at their dinner party.
But her table companions didn’t seem to take exception. “True enough, Miss Harrison, but your Federal Treasury contains much placed there by Southern planters. You can’t really blame the man for wishing to redistribute the funds more equitably,” the man concluded. Everyone within earshot nodded their well-coifed heads in agreement. Several began relaying stories they had heard of the Wraith’s exploits. Everyone but Emily, that is. Red-faced and cross, she sipped her grape juice in an effort to curb her tongue. Even though she refused the constant offer of spirits, she found herself growing light headed before the main course was finally served. Then, thankfully, the political conversation changed over to polite compliments regarding the fare.
Emily picked at the undercooked rib of beef—meat so rare it was still bloody—and enjoyed only the side dishes. The spiced apples and baked squash reminded her of home. Inside, she seethed over the blithe remarks about a cavalier thief. How dare they turn his sinful behavior into a crusadelike cause? Women who idolized the Wraith werepure fools. If I knew the man’s identity, I would expose him to the authorities, she mused. He wouldn’t look so noble swinging at the end of a noose like a common thief. Reaching for her flute, she swallowed a hearty mouthful before realizing someone had refilled her empty glass with red wine. The wine roiled bitterly in her stomach, yet she dared not excuse herself from the table. Drinking spirits…thank goodness my mother isn’t here to see this.
“I can’t blame you one bit, Porter. Selling Bennington Plantation to an Ohio horse breeder is probably the wisest thing you can do at this point. Since Virginia seceded, conditions have worsened in this area for the planter. Why, there’s even talk among the rabble that these western counties should break from Virginia. Could you imagine such an idea? Nothing will come of it, of course, but men of our class will be more welcome in the East than here. Although I must say, the town of Parkersburg will be sorry to see your medical practice go.” The elderly man’s booming voice cut through Emily’s reverie. Her head snapped around in attention.
“Yes, the Ohioan offered a fair price. I haven’t been able to turn a profit since inheriting the plantation from my father, so I thought I should sell.” Dr. Bennington leaned back in his chair. “I am a physician and not much of a gentlemen farmer.”
“That’s due to your generous nature, Porter. You don’t press anyone to pay for your services. I heard you let your people keep the profits from their businesses,” drawled an overly made-up woman. “You are too kind for your own good.” She dragged out each word for emphasis without taking her eyes off Mrs.
“You’ll be happy to learn, Miss Harrison, being a Unionist, that the Gray Wraith never harms a hair on a Yankee head,” said the older of the two men. “Why, he doesn’t even carry a firearm.” He nodded his head, revealing a shiny, bald patch of scalp.
“He does carry a saber, but I understand he uses it solely to sever the purse strings of rich businessmen,” the younger of the pair added to the great entertainment of all. “More wine, Miss Harrison?”
“No, thank you. I don’t imbibe. And I fail to comprehend how being a thief is a noble occupation, gentlemen.” Emily kept her voice low with great effort.
“Ah, the difference is that our mysterious Wraith steals food only to feed a hungry army, medicine for the wounded in field hospitals, and clothing to keep our boys in the Shenandoah warm.”
“I understand he also steals money from the Federal Army payrolls.” Emily’s voice rose in agitation despite her desire not to embarrass the Benningtons at their dinner party.
But her table companions didn’t seem to take exception. “True enough, Miss Harrison, but your Federal Treasury contains much placed there by Southern planters. You can’t really blame the man for wishing to redistribute the funds more equitably,” the man concluded. Everyone within earshot nodded their well-coifed heads in agreement. Several began relaying stories they had heard of the Wraith’s exploits. Everyone but Emily, that is. Red-faced and cross, she sipped her grape juice in an effort to curb her tongue. Even though she refused the constant offer of spirits, she found herself growing light headed before the main course was finally served. Then, thankfully, the political conversation changed over to polite compliments regarding the fare.
Emily picked at the undercooked rib of beef—meat so rare it was still bloody—and enjoyed only the side dishes. The spiced apples and baked squash reminded her of home. Inside, she seethed over the blithe remarks about a cavalier thief. How dare they turn his sinful behavior into a crusadelike cause? Women who idolized the Wraith werepure fools. If I knew the man’s identity, I would expose him to the authorities, she mused. He wouldn’t look so noble swinging at the end of a noose like a common thief. Reaching for her flute, she swallowed a hearty mouthful before realizing someone had refilled her empty glass with red wine. The wine roiled bitterly in her stomach, yet she dared not excuse herself from the table. Drinking spirits…thank goodness my mother isn’t here to see this.
“I can’t blame you one bit, Porter. Selling Bennington Plantation to an Ohio horse breeder is probably the wisest thing you can do at this point. Since Virginia seceded, conditions have worsened in this area for the planter. Why, there’s even talk among the rabble that these western counties should break from Virginia. Could you imagine such an idea? Nothing will come of it, of course, but men of our class will be more welcome in the East than here. Although I must say, the town of Parkersburg will be sorry to see your medical practice go.” The elderly man’s booming voice cut through Emily’s reverie. Her head snapped around in attention.
“Yes, the Ohioan offered a fair price. I haven’t been able to turn a profit since inheriting the plantation from my father, so I thought I should sell.” Dr. Bennington leaned back in his chair. “I am a physician and not much of a gentlemen farmer.”
“That’s due to your generous nature, Porter. You don’t press anyone to pay for your services. I heard you let your people keep the profits from their businesses,” drawled an overly made-up woman. “You are too kind for your own good.” She dragged out each word for emphasis without taking her eyes off Mrs.
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