so sure about that, but her eagerness encouraged him. “I’ll be here, and if you, your mother or Elizabeth have need of anything, do not hesitate to ask.”
She didn’t. “Will you come for supper this evening?”
“Supper?”
“Dinner, as you say up north.”
He knew to what she was referring, and although he greatly appreciated the invitation, he wasn’t certain it would be wise to accept. True, he’d just told her he’d do anything to help, but he’d been thinking more along the lines of household repairs, assistance with business transactions.
If Elizabeth isn’t even receiving her closest friends, what makes Trudy think she’d be willing to endure a dinner with me?
“I know what happened between the two of you,” she said.
David dropped her hand immediately and sat back in his chair, wondering just what exactly Trudy knew. Have my feelings for Elizabeth been obvious? Does Elizabeth know, as well? Is that why she was so angry with me?
“I know you convinced Jeremiah to delay the wedding. Despite that, I believe your presence could be a comfort to my sister. She always spoke very highly of you.”
“I don’t believe she thinks very highly of me now.”
Trudy shook her head in protest. “As dreadful as the circumstance are...you acted in her best interest. A baby is more than a keepsake. And in times like these...” Knowing she’d said far too much, she then blushed. “Forgive me. I don’t normally go about discussing such things. It’s just that...well, as I said before...you are family.”
Why did that word cut him and yet console him at the same time? “I am honored that you think of me that way, Trudy. Still...I regret what I did.”
“We all have regrets, David. I regret encouraging her to volunteer for the hospital in the first place. I suppose a body can only take so much suffering. I think her having watched all those other soldiers die makes Jeremiah’s death all the more difficult.”
“I believe you are correct.”
David didn’t know what to say next. He wanted to make Trudy feel better in some way, but he didn’t know how. He wanted to make up for what he had done to Elizabeth but had no idea where to even begin.
“Will you then come?” she asked. “For supper?”
He drew in a breath. He still wasn’t certain it was such a good idea, but he knew he had to do something. He wanted to be there for Trudy’s sake, if nothing else. “What time should I arrive?”
Her face brightened. “Around seven.”
“Seven it is, then.” Though it pleased him that he had made her happy, it was her sister’s smile he most wanted to see.
* * *
Elizabeth heard the front door shut. Wanting to apologize to her mother for not lending whatever assistance she could, she hurried for the staircase. Trudy was in the foyer. She had a happy look on her face, so Elizabeth assumed the silver had brought a good price.
“Did Mother’s meeting go well?” she asked.
The look faded to a more cautious one. “I don’t know. She hasn’t returned yet.”
“I thought I heard the door.”
“You did. It was...David.”
“David?” Elizabeth blinked. “David Wainwright?”
“Yes.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. “What was he doing here?”
Trudy stepped toward the staircase and leaned against the banister. “He has returned to Baltimore. Apparently he’s taken a job with one of the local papers, although he did not say which one.”
Oh, no, Elizabeth thought. That means today’s visit more than likely will not be the last. Why would he come back to Baltimore? He always said that when his enlistment was over he would go back to his job at the Boston Journal.
She pondered for a moment. Perhaps Trudy had misunderstood. Perhaps the Boston paper had sent him here on assignment. If that is the case, then he will not be in town for very long. I can simply avoid him.
Trudy still held the rail. She now looked rather sheepish. “I invited him for supper tonight.”
Panic spread over Elizabeth. “Supper? Oh, Trudy, what were you thinking? I can’t sit across the table and make polite conversation with that man!”
“That man? Beth, he’s family, and I believe he is grieving as deeply as you. Perhaps even more so. He regrets interfering. He told me so himself.”
Indignation tightened Elizabeth’s jaw. He may indeed regret what he has done, but it doesn’t change anything, and it doesn’t make the thought of supper with him any more bearable.
“You could be a help to one another,” Trudy insisted.
“I don’t see how.”
“You could be a comfort to each other. You could also be a comfort to Mother. I know it will do her good to see him.”
Elizabeth seriously doubted she or David could benefit from the presence of each other, but Trudy had a point. Their mother liked him. She always had. When Elizabeth had worked at the hospital, Mother had often visited the wounded men. She would bring fresh bread and flowers to cheer them. While some of the Northern soldiers did not wish to be bothered with the local civilians, David had always treated her mother with courtesy and respect. As a result, she thought very highly of him.
And if she knew how I spoke to him at the funeral, she would be severely disappointed in me. Embarrassment burned her cheeks as she remembered her words. I told him he could not take Jeremiah away. I told him it was all his fault. He must have thought me mad.
She knew she should apologize, and not just for the lunacy of trying to postpone the unavoidable. He was not responsible for his brother’s death.
Even if Jeremiah and I had married when we wished, our marriage would not have held back the inevitable. He still would have been a soldier. He still would have been working in that disease-infested hospital. He still would have taken ill.
Trudy was waiting patiently at the bannister. Her words echoed through Elizabeth’s mind.
He is grieving as deeply as you...perhaps even more so. He regrets what he has done.
She still didn’t like the idea of his company, but she did need to apologize for her behavior at the funeral. And if spending the evening discussing his new job or whatever else he is now involved in will lift Mother’s spirit, I should do my best to comply.
“For Mother’s sake, then,” Elizabeth said.
Trudy offered her a gentle smile. “I’ll help
