“Then what’s he doing fighting for the Confederacy?”
“There are plenty of intelligent men fighting for the South,” Eden insisted as she straightened her shoulders proudly. She was badly disappointed he had not responded to her compliment in kind. She tried her best to be as charming a companion as possible for him, but as usual Raven appeared to be taking great delight in shattering the playfulness of their mood with an insulting question.
“Robert E. Lee is definitely a genius, I’ll concede that. The Union doesn’t have a general who can even come close to his brilliance. It’s a tragedy he doesn’t have a cause worthy of his talents.”
Incensed by that comment, Eden’s tone grew hostile. “Our cause is just. The North and South had become too different to remain together.”
“Wasn’t diversity the Union’s strength?”
“Well, yes, I suppose it was until the Federal government began serving only the interests of the people in the Northern states.?
? When Raven’s response was no more than a skeptically arched brow, Eden became more specific, “In my father’s case, his ships carried cotton to the mills in New England, but they took only one quarter of all the cotton the Southern plantations produced. The rest was shipped to European mills. That’s how my parents met. My father was in London on business.”
“I’ll bet it was love at first sight,” Raven guessed with more than a trace of sarcasm.
“Yes, as a matter of fact it was, but you’re just trying to distract me from making my point,” Eden scolded. “The problem was that while the European mills paid excellent prices for cotton, the planters couldn’t get goods in return without paying tariffs of ten to thirty percent when they returned home. That expense made it difficult, if not impossible, to make a fair profit. The tariffs were designed to protect the commerce in the North from European competition, while it was the Southerners who were forced to pay them. That just wasn’t fair.”
Enjoying the bright sparkle their argument had brought to Eden’s eyes, Raven decided to pursue it. He took a sip of brandy before he replied. “Weren’t tariffs a minor issue?”
“Not to the Southerners who made their living in cotton it wasn’t! Besides, my father agreed with those who believed the Southern states had the constitutional right to secede if they chose to do so.”
“Yes, I heard that argument fairly often.” Raven frowned slightly, obviously not convinced by it.
“There was the matter of land in the West too,” Eden suddenly thought to add. “We wanted to see more land made available. Cotton depletes the soil, and plantations needed new land to remain in business. The Northern states opposed western expansion. They wanted the population concentrated on the East Coast so there would always be plenty of buyers for their goods. You see, the interests of the North and South were no longer compatible. The break between them was inevitable.”
“What you’re citing were minor issues, Eden, and you know it. It was the dispute over slavery that ripped America in two and I can’t believe any sane person can see any morality in one man owning another.”
“Only a small minority of Southerners owned slaves.” Eden swirled the blackberry brandy in her snifter with a nervous twist, but did not sample any. “Many of those owned only one or two. My family has never owned a single slave, by the way. Despite the fact the majority of men were not slave holders, they answered the call to serve the Confederacy in great numbers.”
“They’ve been dying in great numbers too.” Raven finished the last of his brandy and set the snifter aside. “The South had neither the manpower nor the heavy industry to sustain a war effort. It was unconscionable to risk so much when there was no hope the Confederacy could win.”
“That’s simply not true!” Eden protested. “We’ve won many a battle.”
“Yes, because Lee is a military genius, but eventually even he will run out of troops and supplies. When we were in London, there were many who said the South’s loss at Gettysburg in July will prove to be the turning point of the war. Losing Vicksburg at the same time was a terrible blow. Not only weapons were being sent from Mexico through the port at Vicksburg, but food from the West as well. The War is as good as lost, Eden, you might as well face that fact now.”
How Raven could be so coolly logical when they were discussing something of such great importance Eden failed to understand, but she was not about to agree with him. “Have you ever cared enough about anything to fight for it?” she asked instead, too committed to the South’s cause to care that he would surely be insulted by her insinuation that he cared for nothing but himself.
Caught off guard by the vicious intent of her question, Raven’s expression gave away his initial shock. He had certainly waged an aggressive campaign to win her consent for their marriage, but wisely did not remind her of that. That there had once been a time when he had had to fight simply to survive was not a story he cared to relate either. He would have argued with her all night about the War, but he had no interest in talking about himself. Rising to his feet, he started for the door.
“Excuse me please, I need to speak with Randy one last time before we retire.” Eden was amazed by how quickly Raven had lost interest in their conversation when she had put him on the defensive. He was very good when he was on the attack, but he used the same defense time and again: retreat. If only she could think of a way to use that insight against him when they played Captain’s Mistress. Hoping she would find a means to do that, she got up and began to get ready for bed, but she was not at all satisfied with the way her latest encounter with her maddeningly aloof husband had ended. Losing a battle or two did not mean the South had lost the War and she remained infuriated for a good long while that Raven held such a repugnant opinion.
With constant efforts to be polite, Raven and Eden managed to pass the remainder of the first two weeks of the voyage without another confrontation or bout of tears over the War, or any of their other differences. Neither took any pride in the placid nature of their relationship, however. It seemed to each like an uneasy truce that would inevitably end in a renewed round of hostilities. While neither wished that to happen, the fear that it soon would filled them both with an unshakable sense of dread.
Raven could not allay the uncomfortable premonition that the next words to pass his lips would insult Eden so badly she would never speak to him again. As a result, he had become even more close-mouthed than was his custom. It was only when they made love that he felt free to express himself, and even then he dared not put his feelings in words.
As for Eden, she had expected the pleasure their lovemaking brought to make them close. She had sought to dissolve whatever remained of Raven’s distrust with the passion he was always so quick to display, but she had no evidence that her efforts were having any success. From their initial meeting she and Alex had been comfortable in each other’s company, but with Raven not even the briefest conversation ran smoothly.
Now he seemed so reluctant to speak she made little effort to draw him out. While he was pleasant, if quiet, his smiles were too quick, as though forced. Whenever they were up on deck, he would keep her close, but his touch was possessive rather than affectionate. When darkness fell and they shared his bunk, Raven lulled her to sleep with loving so intense it left her too weak to crave more. But she would awake the next morning still feeling lost and alone and again be engulfed in a sense of hopelessness. She had begun to consider the possibility that Raven was simply incapable of sharing anything of himself with a woman, but she also thought that perhaps she was just not the right one. Because she was still in love with Alex, she knew she had no right to question Raven’s feelings, and kept her painful doubts to herself.
As for the crew, the chill in their glances had grown no less icy. In fact, there were several men whose expressions could be described as contemptuous whenever she came into view. Eden had never done anything to deserve such blatant disrespect, and grew increasingly unnerved by it. At the same time, she did not want to trouble Raven by complaining that his men lacked the proper warmth. Instead, she concentrated on the sea’s sparkle, or Raven’s infrequent comments, and did not let the crew guess that she had even noticed their disdain, much less been deeply hurt by it.
Randy MacDermott stood with his back braced against the port rail. Eden and Raven were at the opposite rail, but although he had a few minutes of free time that morning, he was not tempted to join them. As he saw it, Raven was unlikely to ever forgive him for speaking his mind about his bride, and Randy had seen nothing in Eden’s behavior that had inspired him to change his opinion of her. The lovely Lady Clairbourne seemed perfectly content to be Raven’s wife, but he could not forget Alex so easily. A year of mourning had not been an intolerable burden for any widow he had ever met. That Eden had been unable to survive more than a week without a man in her bed disgusted him each time he looked her way. She was undeniably a beauty, and carried herself with the grace of a lady, but as he saw it, she was without a shred of vi
rtue.
Out of the corner of his eye, the pensive mate caught sight of Max and Samuel swabbing the deck. They were casting sly glances at Eden, and whispering between bursts of hushed laughter that left little doubt as to the object of their humor. That the men shared his low opinion of Raven’s wife did not surprise him, but Randy would not tolerate such an impudent display. He had just taken a step toward the mischievous pair when Raven suddenly turned toward him and waved. In response, Randy had to change his direction, and Raven moved across the deck to meet him half way.
The rowdy sailors were behind Raven now, but Randy still had a clear view of them. He saw Max kick over his bucket, deliberately sending several gallons of dirty water sloshing over the hem of Eden’s full-skirted gown and thoroughly soaking her shoes.