Dearest Enemy. Nan Ryan

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СКАЧАТЬ she had learned from her beloved old nursemaid, now deceased. Naturally, all the young belles wanted to know what romantic adventures lay in store for them. The boys were unconcerned about the future, but looked on the palm reading as an opportunity to hold Suzanna's hand.

      Suzanna was totally feminine, yet she had a masculine directness that was captivating. She spoke her mind, was never coy or ambiguous, nor was she particularly diplomatic. While Suzanna took after her deceased father, the lovable, outgoing Lawrence LeGrande, Matthew was more like their mother. He enjoyed a good time as much as the next fellow, but he had no compulsion to race through life as if the world might stop turning should he miss a picnic or party or ball.

      An honor graduate of West Point, Matthew took duty, honor and country seriously. And he felt that his most important duty was to see to it no unprincipled male took advantage of his sister. While he was away at the institute, Matthew had worried about what calamity might befall the trusting Suzanna. A scholar who easily excelled in his studies, Matthew had completed his education at the ripe old age of twenty, and had immediately returned home to take up his post as head of the LeGrande household.

      “For heaven sake, Suzanna,” Matthew said now, looking up as a laughing streak of flaming hair and lilac ruffles dashed past the open library doors. “Isn't it time you displayed a bit more decorum?”

      Suzanna skidded to a stop at the umbrella stand in the foyer. As she reached for a woolen cape and matching bonnet, she said over her shoulder, “Do forgive me, Matt. You see, I'm in an awful hurry and really must fly.” She turned and flashed a smile at her tall, sandy-haired brother, who had stepped out into the foyer.

      “At breakfast you failed to mention you were going out this morning,” Matthew casually commented.

      “Did I? Well, I have a great deal on my mind, what with next week's reception at Stratford House. That's why I'm in such a hurry. I'm on my way now and—”

      “You're planning to be the first guest to arrive?”

      “Don't be silly!” Suzanna said as she tied her bonnet's long grosgrain streamers beneath her chin. “I promised I'd help Mrs. Grayson and Cynthia Ann decide on the decorations and finalize the extensive menu.” She added excitedly, “It's a stellar guest list to be sure. More or less the beginning of our upcoming Washington social season. Why, even Colonel Robert E. Lee and his wife, Mary, are expected at the festivities, did you know that?”

      Matthew nodded. Colonel Lee, a West Point graduate and superintendent at the Point, was home on leave from his regimental duties on the Texas frontier.

      “I'll be very surprised if the colonel attends, Suzanna. You know very well that his dear wife is in poor health and rarely leaves Arlington House and therefore…”

      “Colonel Lee with be at the reception, Matthew,” Suzanna stated emphatically. “He's far too polite and too political to disappoint a hostess as powerful as Jennie Grayson.” She crossed to her brother, stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “After all, the colonel likely plans to—”

      “You have no idea what Lee's plans are,” Matthew interrupted, quickly changing the subject. “Let's discuss our plans. Have you given any thought to what you'll wear this evening?”

      Suzanna stepped back. Her well-arched eyebrows shot up and she looked genuinely puzzled. “This evening? Is there something special about this evening?”

      “Suzanna, you do try my patience. I told you several days ago we have an important dinner guest joining us this evening. I expect you to be here.”

      “Why, I wouldn't miss it for the world,” she said with a shrug of her slender shoulders. “Another unsuspecting candidate for my hand in marriage?”

      Matthew frowned. “Just promise me you'll be home in plenty of time to get properly dressed to receive our guest. And that you'll be on your best behavior. Ty Bellinggrath is a fine man, Suzanna, and—”

      “You can count on me, brother, dear,” Suzanna said with a teasing smirk. “I'll scrub my face and cinch my waist and be on display when he arrives. Then you may point out all my finer qualities as I slowly pirouette for the prospective bridegroom.”

      “Now, Suzanna.”

      “Do me one small favor, Matt. Promise that if I'm not married by the time I reach twenty-five, you will give up and stop bringing young gentlemen here in hopes of marrying me off!”

      For the first time Matthew smiled as he said, “Bellinggrath will be here at seven o'clock, my dear. And so will you.”

      “I shall look forward to a most enjoyable evening,” Suzanna said sarcastically. “Now I really must be going. Poor old Durwood's waiting out in the cold with the carriage.”

      Two

      Suzanna sighed with pleasure as she settled herself comfortably inside the roomy brougham. Old Durwood, in full livery, sat proudly up on the box, handling the pair of matched bays with ease despite his worsening arthritis. The horses were fine specimens, curried to a high gloss, and the gleaming black, silver trimmed carriage had seats of soft burgundy leather.

      With her bonnet off and slapped down on the seat beside her, Suzanna gazed out the window at the natural beauty of her native Virginia. How she loved the broad avenues and the glittering streams. The familiar sights never failed to take her breath away.

      Suzanna was eternally grateful that this was her home, the place where she had been born, the place where she would live all her days. She considered herself fortunate to have had a father who had been so forward thinking and such a brilliant businessman.

      It was true that the late Lawrence LeGrande had inherited a tidy sum from his British ancestors, but he hadn't been content to simply let the cash lie in the safety of a bank vault. Instead he had invested wisely in land and had, over time, accumulated a vast fortune from varied endeavors.

      There were the tobacco fields in northern Virginia, a coastal cotton plantation in South Carolina, indigo crops in northern Georgia and a host of other well-chosen investments in rail and shipping. The holdings were diverse and profitable and afforded the LeGrande family a life of splendid ease in the stately riverside mansion known as Whitehall.

      Suzanna loved her life and her home and prayed that nothing would ever change. She wanted everything to remain just as it was on this crisp autumn morning in October of 1859.

      

      Suzanna was halfway out of the brougham before it came to a full stop in the pebbled drive of Stratford House in the heart of Georgetown. Nonplussed at his young mistress's less than ladylike behavior, old Durwood laid the long leather reins aside and gingerly swung down to the ground.

      “Why you want to act like a boy, Miss Suzanna?” he scolded, taking firm hold of her arm as she jumped from the carriage. “Folk'll be gossipin' 'bout us if you don't behave and…”

      But Suzanna, skirts lifted, bonnet left behind, was already dashing up the front walk, calling Cynthia Ann's name. The dark-haired girl stepped out onto the shaded veranda, spotted Suzanna and came dashing forward to greet her best friend and trusted confidante. The young women threw their arms around each other and embraced as though it had been weeks—not hours—since last they'd seen each other.

      “You'll have lunch with us,” Cynthia Ann stated as they walked into the house, arm in arm. “Then spend all afternoon?”

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