Emma Barry Read Free Page B

intemperateness and his outward capitulation. It’s a contradiction too great for one man to bear.” Margaret realized she was close to shouting. She had also said too much.
    She swallowed and added more quietly, “We fought about everything. John Brown in particular.”
    She paused to laugh. Not with mirth but anxiety. The country had become an angry, distrustful, and immoderate place in the two years since her break with Theo. Following the radical abolitionist John Brown’s hanging and President Lincoln’s election, many of the southern states had departed the Union in a terrible drumbeat, one after another. Shots had been fired on Fort Sumter in April, and forces were now gathering in Washington City, for what she knew not. Tides of uncertainty and fear soaked the land. The violence she had abhorred at Harper’s Ferry seemed poised to drown them all.
    Finally, she turned back to the girl and finished her tale. “He felt I nagged him. That together we would know no peace. And so we parted.”
    The words, and everything they represented, hung in the air for a moment. Rebecca asked, “That’s why you’ve stayed so long at the seminary? Was there never anyone else?”
    Margaret’s hands swept up to press against her forehead. “I never expected there to be anyone at all. I was a poor orphan educated by the kindness of distant relatives. I became a teacher because I had to. When I met Mr. Ward, I thought my chance at love had passed. I was more than a decade on the shelf. When that ended, I had no interest in finding anyone else. Once was rare and strange enough.”
    “But you told me — ”
    Rising to her feet, Margaret said, “The situations are not the same: you are nineteen and I am thirty-seven. Romantic love is a young woman’s dream, Rebecca. I no longer find it appealing.”
    The girl smiled. “I, however, saw the way he looked at you.” From inside the assembly room, the bright tones of the band tuning up floated to them. “Come now, let’s return.”
    At the door, they encountered Theo. Rebecca curtseyed slightly and said, “Mr. Ward, I deliver your partner.”
    Theo looked Margaret straight in the eye and replied, “I thank you,” offering her his hand. When she took it, she shuddered, despite the two layers of cloth between them. If he felt it, nothing in his expression betrayed anything but calmness and confidence.
    He led her to the floor as if it hadn’t been two years since they had last danced. Those months, and what had caused them, were impossible to forget, however.
    When his arm encircled her waist, she looked past his shoulder, training her eyes on the bunting that iced the room. His smell, like spice and linen, hadn’t changed. She felt weak and hot all over.
    The band struck up a lilting waltz, and they joined the other couples in spinning through the space. Her body followed his cues in an intimate, disconcerting manner. He was a powerful and graceful dancer, as he had ever been. Margaret felt bereft by her body’s answer to his call even years later.
    Finally, in the deep, rumbly baritone that she remembered so well, he spoke, “There’s a good assembly present this evening.”
    “Indeed.”
    “Are those some of your students?”
    “Yes.”
    A pause followed her reply. This was going to be a long dance.
    When Theo made no motion to fill the silence, Margaret asked at last, “How does your mother fare?”
    “Well. She’s been in good health of late and has become involved with the Ladies’ Aid Society. It turns out that she too enjoys ’causes.’” That was a jab at his mother, who had always mocked and belittled his interests in reform.
    “And how are things with your practice?”
    “As they ever were.”
    “I’m always surprised when the slates of candidates are announced to never see your name on a ticket, Mr. Ward.” She could feel his shoulder tense beneath his jacket. She shifted her gaze and looked into his dark blue eyes. They were harsh and