“Then we must give him a chance,” James replied. “Just as he must give us a chance, eh?”
“Yes, I quite agree.”
“Mr. Latrobe, might we impose upon you?” a gray-haired gentleman questioned from behind James.
“I will speak with you later, Mr. Baldwin,” Latrobe said with a bow. “Merry Christmas to you, and my best wishes to your family.”
James was relieved to find several board members drawing Latrobe away for a discussion on some matter of great importance. The reminder of Christmas only made him feel more discouraged than he was before. Family seemed so very far away. His uncle Samuel Baldwin lived not six blocks away, and yet James couldn’t bring himself to even venture that far. No doubt his father would have written his only brother to say that James had turned out to be a terrible failure and disappointment as a son.
Slipping away from the board meeting, James walked out into the chilled Baltimore afternoon. A light dusting of snow covered the ground, and the heavy smell of the sea assaulted his nose. During the two and a half months he’d spent in Baltimore, James had found little to attach himself to. The small boardinghouse in which he’d secured modest accommodations was run by an elderly man who had nothing good to say about anyone. The man’s only daughter had run off the year before with one of the boarders, leaving her father to fend for himself. In turn, the man had a very low opinion of his renters but tolerated them for the sake of the coin it put into his hand each week.
Shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets, James could not abide the longing in his soul. He continued down Pratt Street, making his way deeper into the city. Several hacks slowed as they approached him, but he waved them off, thinking to save as much of his money as possible. Money was not a commodity he had in abundance. And it was money that stood as the foundation to all of his miseries.
Had it truly only been last year that he’d returned from college a happy man? His father had insisted James join him in banking, but the railroad was already in his blood, and for once in this life, James had made a firm stand to pursue his interest. But it had come at a price. His father insisted he marry, and marry wealthy. It seemed the family coffers had run dry, and James was the last hope for replenishing what had been lost on improper investments and unchecked spending.
He thought of Virginia Adams, young, beautiful, and well accomplished. She had been the chosen one. The one his mother saw as fitting perfectly into Washington’s social circles. And to his father she depicted a fleshly representation of financial redemption. The only thing wrong was that James didn’t love her and knew he never would. Not only had he grown weary of her contentious nature, but he saw clearly that she would never abide his work on the railroad, work which would take him away from her precious social circle. These things would have been reason enough, even if he hadn’t fallen in love with her sister.
He could well imagine his father’s rage upon learning that his son had ducked out of the imposed engagement. James had carefully given the task of breaking the engagement to Virginia in order to keep her from shame. But to his parents, he’d honestly put to paper the deepest, most inner longings and turmoil of his heart—well, at least most of them. He’d spoken frankly of believing marriage to be a sacred institution, and as such, he could not go into it feeling as he did toward the woman who was to become his wife. Of course, he’d said nothing to them about Carolina. Why bother, when nothing would come of it anyway?
He turned on Greene Street and headed north, away from the harbor. His father would never understand. Leland Baldwin had taken James into the utmost confidence regarding the family’s shaky financial circumstance, and James’ actions would be perceived as a betrayal of such a trust.
He heard the slowing of yet another hack and turned to wave the carriage on when he heard his name being called from inside.
“Mr. Baldwin! Come join me.” It was Benjamin Latrobe.
The carriage door swung open and Latrobe peered out. “You’ll freeze walking all the way home. Come, let me give you a ride.”
James rubbed his frozen cheeks with his gloved hand. “I believe I will.” He climbed up and took the bench opposite Latrobe.
“Glad to see you’re the sensible kind, Baldwin.”
“Well, it is a bit colder than I’d thought. So where have you come from? I didn’t see you at the board meeting.”
“That’s because I wasn’t there,” Latrobe said with a sly smile. “I’ve been Christmas shopping.”
James felt a pang of regret at having joined up with his friend. No doubt Ben would be full of stories about Christmas and his family’s plans for the holidays. Trying hard not to appear the slightest bit concerned with the matter, James only nodded in acknowledgment.
“Are you headed home to Washington City for Christmas?” Latrobe asked.
James shook his head. “No. My parents . . . well, that is to say . . .” he stammered and felt his face flush. His relationship with Ben Latrobe was such that a glib lie did not sit well. “My parents are out of the city for the holidays. They’ve gone south to be with family,” he lied anyway.
“And will you join them?”
“No, I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly be away from Baltimore that long. I want to keep my hand in on the railroad business, and I want very much to be present when McLane makes his appearance.”
“But Christmas is in less than a week and a half. Have you no plans?”
“No, none,” James admitted, then lest Latrobe feel pity for him he added, “I’ll probably busy myself by catching up on my sleep and reading. A very pleasant way to spend some time, if I do say so.”
“I’ll not hear of it!” Benjamin Latrobe declared. “My Ellen would be positively beside herself to learn that her husband had been so inhospitable as to allow a friend to dine alone on Christmas.”
“Honestly,” James said, raising his hand, “I’ll be in good spirits and quite content.”
“I won’t hear of it. You will share Christmas Day with us, and I will not take no for an answer.”
James realized the futility of arguing and nodded consent. “I would be honored.”
“Good. Now, tell me about the meeting. Did they vote McLane in?”
“The vote will take place two days after Christmas.”
“Good. I’m certain of the outcome and anxious for the thing to be done. There’s a great deal of work ahead of us, and now that the Point of Rocks fencing nonsense has been set aside, we can better focus our attention on the incline planes and the surveys west of Harper’s.”
“What exactly happened at Point of Rocks?” James asked. He was familiar with the reference point, which lay several miles east of Harper’s Ferry along the Potomac. He knew of some trouble out there but had not heard details.
“The Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Company had an agreement that the B&O would fence portions along the Point of Rocks area for the purpose of separating the canal and the railroad. They were concerned that the canal horses would become spooked and possibly even jump into the canal at the noisy passing of a steam locomotive.”
“That makes sense,” James said.
“It makes sense, but we had no other recourse. The passage is barely wide enough to accommodate both the canal and railroad. And you know full well it has sparked more than one altercation between the canal workers and those of the B&O.”
“Yes, I have heard.”
“But there was no other logical place to build, and when the agreements were finally ironed out and the B&O allowed to build along the Potomac and beside the canal, the arrangement said that we were to build a high board fence along the entire passage between Point of Rocks and Harper’s Ferry.”
“I suppose the expense would be a hardship—”
“The expense was only a minor consideration,” Latrobe interjected. “To close the passageway off in that manner would make the railroad into a great ditch, and the snow and soil would wash into it from the surrounding hillsides. The tracks would never survive, and the trains would forever be halted and unable to proceed forward without some repair or adjustment being made.”
“I hadn’t imagined.”
“Well, it is resolved now. The canal officials agreed to a compromise. We will only be required to build a few miles of post and rail fencing where the banks are particularly steep. These are areas where a sudden appearance of a locomotive might well turn disastrous for both parties. We’re paying the canal two thousand seven hundred dollars to put the thing into place, and now everyone is happy. It was an answer to prayer.”
“Truly?” James couldn’t believe that he’d asked the question aloud.
Latrobe smiled. “Truly. I firmly believe God is in every detail of the B&O’s development.”
“I suppose that is quite possible,” James answered honestly. “There have been numerous obstacles that have slowed down the progress, but always it seems some minor detail is overlooked. Then when found, the problems seem to work themselves out in one form or another.”
“Exactly. I believe in divine intervention, my dear James. God’s hand is upon the B&O as surely as is ours. Many folks might doubt His interest in mankind’s meager attempts to tame the land, but not I. I know He is with us, and I know He will see it through.”
James wished he could believe as enthusiastically as Ben. He wished that sometime in his life God might have revealed himself to be a guiding force. Now, with so many problems in his life, problems of his own making, James wasn’t sure God would even care to deal with him.
I’ve made a real mess of things, he thought. Without a doubt, I’ve strayed from the master plan.
The grand ballroom of Gadsby’s Hotel was full to overflowing with swirling, colorful dancers. Overhead, crystal chandeliers lighted the room, and beneath the many pairs of slippered and booted feet the polished wood floors gleamed with mirrorlike reflections. The annual Christmas charity ball was held on behalf of the hospital, and from the look of it, Carolina guessed it to be a tremendous success. For years, her mother had been on the committee with Edith Baldwin in the planning of this grand occasion. It was the party that began the Washington Christmas social season, and it always set the tone for the months to come.
Carolina wished that her mother could have been a part of this year’s celebration. It might have done her some good to busy herself with something other than tending Penny and mourning over the loss of Mary.
“Are you having a good time?” Hampton asked her and pulled her closer to keep in step with the waltz they were dancing.
Carolina found to her surprise that she truly was having fun. “Yes. This is a very pleasant party.”
Hampton smiled, breaking the stern expression he’d worn for most of the evening. Carolina hadn’t made it easy on him at all. From the moment he had first helped to hand her into the carriage, she’d shared hardly more than a noncommittal nod to his conversation. In fact, she’d conversed more with her slave Miriam, who acted as chaperone, than with Hampton.
“You truly are the most beautiful woman here,” he commented against her ear. “That gown is positively stunning.”
“Thank you,” she replied in what she hoped was a pleasant tone. Carolina was rather fond of the gown herself. It was a fashionable creation of ivory satin and burgundy trim. The neckline was modestly high, to her relief, and the sleeves were puffed from shoulder to wrist.
“Did you purchase it here in the city?”
The strains of the music seemed to linger on the air even as the dance came to an end. Carolina quickly stepped away from Hampton, although he refused to release her gloved hand.
She glanced up and, meeting his serious blue eyes, found him quite intent on maintaining contact with her. “You were going to tell me about your lovely dress,” he said, leading her away from the dance floor to one of the refreshment rooms.
“The seamstresses at Oakbridge made the dress,” she answered and tried again to pull away without making a scene.
“Stop it!” he demanded suddenly, tightening his grip. “You’ve put me off all evening, even though I know your father told you to be nice to me.”
Carolina’s head snapped up. “How would you know that unless you were eavesdropping, sir?”
“I make it my business to stay informed. If that means I have to eavesdrop on occasion, then so be it. I think if you will just follow your father’s advice and relax, you’ll enjoy this evening.”
“I am only here,” she said with a nervous glance to see who else might be listening, “because it pleased my father for me to accompany you.” Pausing, she considered her circumstance for a moment, then added, “Mr. Cabot, I still fail to see why you pursue me when I’ve made it clear that we are incompatible.”
He paused at a table laden with food and smiled. “Would you care for refreshments?”
Just then Carolina spied Edith and Leland Baldwin. James’ parents! She couldn’t bear the thought of facing them just now. No doubt there would be many questions about her family, maybe even comments on Carolina’s appearance at the party while still in a state of mourning. And even if Edith deemed not to bring those things up, no doubt there would be conversation about James. Her heart ached within her. She longed to know where James had taken himself off to and how he was faring. She wanted more than anything to hear news of him, but she couldn’t bear the idea of facing Edith Baldwin. “Please, I need some air,” she whispered, not considering how alluring her plea might sound.
“I believe there’s a summer porch available for just such purposes,” Hampton said, taking a quick glance around the room. “Although it surprises me that you should suggest such a thing.”
Carolina felt her cheeks grow hot. “Oh, it has nothing to do with you. Stay here and eat for all I care. I’ll find Miriam.” She finally succeeded at pushing away from him and had started to make her way through the crowded room when he caught up to her.
“Come with me,” he said and easily maneuvered her through the throng of people.
Carolina’s mind raced with excuses for why Hampton should take her home, but none of them seemed feasible or believable. The idea of having to stand in her Christmas finery and make small talk with James’ parents was something Carolina had little desire for. She probably shouldn’t even be in public, since it had scarcely been three months since her sister’s death. And not only was she here, but dressed in ivory instead of black! Her father had reasoned that she was young and deserved to break rules in order to have fun. Even more so, he’d never agreed with decking the house and its occupants in black to honor the memory of those who’d died. Were it not for her mother, Carolina reasoned, they’d probably never wear black at all.