In her early thirties, she was striking in appearance. Her auburn hair was pulled softly back from her face and fell in lustrous curls over the nape of her neck. Setting off its coppery hues were a pair of slanted eyes, almost as green as her fashionable Zouave jacket. On any other woman her full bottom lip would have been obtrusive, but on her it was sensual.
Although Veronica was considered a great beauty, her thin nose was a bit too long, her features too angular for true beauty. No man, however, seemed to notice. She had wit, intelligence, and the intriguing quality of watching those around her with an amused eye while she waited to see what life had in store.
She eased toward the doors at the back of the church, where the Reverend Cogdell was greeting his flock as they filed out. "Ah, Mrs. Gamble. How pleasant to have you with us this morning. I don't believe you've met Miss Dorthea Calhoun. And this is Mr. Cain of Risen Glory. Where has Katharine Louise gone? I wanted you to meet her, too."
Veronica Gamble had no interest in either Miss Dorthea Calhoun or anyone named Katharine Louise. But she was very much interested in the dazzling man who stood next to the pastor, and she gracefully inclined her head. "I've heard a great deal about you, Mr. Cain. Somehow I'd expected horns."
Rawlins Cogdell winced, but Cain laughed. "I wish I'd been as fortunate to have heard of you."
Veronica slipped her gloved hand into the crook of his arm. "The matter is easily remedied."
Kit had heard Cain's laughter, but she ignored it to focus her attention on Brandon. His regular features were even more attractive than she'd remembered, and the stray lock of straight brown hair that tumbled over his forehead as he talked was endearing.
He couldn't have been more different from Cain. Brandon was polite where Cain was rude. And she didn't have to worry about him mocking her. He was every inch a Southern gentleman.
She studied his mouth. What would it feel like to kiss it? Very exciting, she was certain. Much more pleasant than Cain's assault the day she'd arrived.
An assault she'd done nothing to stop.
"I've thought about you quite often since we met in New York," Brandon said.
"I'm flattered."
"Would you like to ride with me tomorrow? The bank closes at three. I could be at Risen Glory within the hour."
Kit gazed up at him through her lashes, an effect she'd practiced to perfection. "I'd enjoy riding with you, Mr. Parsell."
"Until tomorrow, then."
With a smile, she turned away to acknowledge several young men who'd been patiently waiting for a chance to speak with her.
As they vied for her attention, she noticed Cain deep in conversation with an attractive auburn-haired woman. Something about the attentive way the woman was gazing up at him grated on Kit. She wished he'd glance in her direction so he could see her so well surrounded by masculine company. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to notice.
Miss Dolly had been engaged in animated conversation with the Reverend Cogdell and his wife, Mary, who was her distant relative and the one who'd recommended her as a chaperone. Kit realized the Cogdells were looking increasingly bewildered. She hastily excused herself and hurried to Miss Dolly's side.
"Are you ready to leave, Miss Dolly?"
"Why, yes, darlin'. I haven't seen the Reverend Cogdell and his dear wife, Mary, in years. What a joyous reunion, hampered only by the recent events at Bull Run. Oh, but that's old folk's conversation, darlin'. Nothin' for you to worry your pretty young head about."
Cain must have sensed disaster, too, for he materialized at Kit's side. "Miss Calhoun, the carriage is waiting for us."
"Why, thank you, General-" Miss Dolly gasped and pressed her fingers to her mouth. "I-I mean Major, of course. Silly me." With her ribbons all aflutter, she scampered toward the carriage.
The Reverend Cogdell and his wife stared after her in open-mouthed astonishment.
"She thinks I'm General Lee living in disguise at Risen Glory," Cain said bluntly.
Rawlins Cogdell began to wring his pale, thin hands in agitation. "Major Cain, Katharine, I do apologize. When my wife recommended Dolly Calhoun for the post of chaperone, we had no idea-Oh, dear, this will never do."
Mary Cogdell's small brown eyes were filled with remorse. "This is all my fault. We'd heard she was nearly destitute, but we had no idea she was feebleminded."
Kit opened her mouth to protest, but Cain cut her off. "You needn't worry about Miss Calhoun. She's settling in comfortably."
"But Katharine can't possibly stay at Risen Glory with you under these circumstances," the minister protested. "Dolly Calhoun is hardly a proper chaperone. Why, she must have spoken to a dozen people today. By this afternoon everyone in the county will know about her. This won't do. It won't do at all. The gossip will be dreadful, Mr. Cain. You're far too young a man-"
"Kit is my ward," he said.
"Nonetheless, there's no blood bond between you."
Mary Cogdell gripped her prayer book. "Katharine, you're an innocent young woman, so I'm sure it hasn't occurred to you how this will look to others. You simply can't stay at Risen Glory."
"I appreciate your concern," Kit replied, "but I've been away from my home for three years, and I don't intend to leave again so quickly."
Mary Cogdell looked at her husband helplessly.
"I assure you that Miss Dolly is a stickler for the proprieties," Cain surprised her by saying. "You should have seen her fussing over Kit this morning."
"Still…"
Cain inclined his head. "If you'll excuse us, Reverend Cogdell, Mrs. Cogdell. Please don't trouble yourself any further." He took Kit's arm and led her toward the carriage, where Miss Dolly was already waiting.
Rawlins Cogdell and his wife watched the carriage drive away. "There's going to be trouble there," the minister said. "I can feel it in my bones."
Kit heard the crunch of gravel and knew Brandon had arrived. She rushed to the cheval glass to check her reflection and saw a proper young lady in a riding habit gazing back at her. There were no boy's clothes for her today, and no Temptation, either. She'd resigned herself to a sidesaddle and poor Lady.
That morning, while the sky was still the pale, soft pink of the underside of a seashell, she'd raced across the fields on Temptation. The wild, exhilarating ride was much different from what she could expect this afternoon.
She had to admit her new riding habit was flattering, no matter how much she disliked the idea of wearing it. Made of crimson broadcloth trimmed in black braid, the jacket fit her snugly in the bodice and accented her waist. The full skirt fell in graceful folds to the hem, which was decorated with a deep border of black braid in a swirling pattern that looked like a chain of script L's.
She checked to make certain there were no hanging threads or hooks that had escaped her notice. The four black frogs that held together the front of the jacket were all fastened, and her hat was on straight. It was black, a feminine version of a man's stovepipe, but with a lower, softer crown and a wisp of crimson veiling trailing from the back. She'd fastened her hair in a neat bun at the nape of her neck and even polished her boots.
Satisfied that she looked her best, she snatched up her riding crop and left the room, giving no thought at all to the black kid riding gloves lying in her glove box. When she reached the hallway, she heard voices coming from the piazza. To her consternation, she saw Cain standing in the drive talking to Brandon.
Once again she was struck by the contrast between the two men. Cain was much bigger, but that wasn't all that set them apart. Brandon was properly dressed in hat, coat, and trousers, with a bottle-green four-in-hand showing above the top of his vest. The clothes were old and no longer of the most fashionable cut, but they were neatly pressed, and he wore them well.