Previously: Stanton holds the Lincolns and janitor Gabby captive in the White House basement. Private Adam Christy takes guard duties. After two years of deceit, love and death, the war is over. Stanton forces Adam into a final conspiracy. Duff holds his last cabinet meeting posing as the president.
As Stanton walked out, Duff heard voices in the adjoining bedroom. It was Alethia and Mrs. Keckley.
“I feel strange today,” she was saying to the dressmaker. “When you return next week, I may have lost weight.”
“Oh.”
“That means you’ll need to go back to my old patterns.”
“Of course.”
Duff sensed Alethia wanted to say something else to Mrs. Keckley but did not know how.
“Thank you for being a friend.” She paused. “A friend is one who accepts you for who you are, and not who you seem to be. You understand what I mean, don’t you, Mrs. Keckley.”
“Of course, Miss Lincoln.”
“You’re a very wise person, Mrs. Keckley,” Alethia said. “I’ve been enriched to have known you.”
“You’re much too kind, Miss Lincoln.” Mrs. Keckley added in a whisper, “And may God bless you, whatever happens.”
“Thank you,” Alethia replied, her voice cracking. “And good-bye.”
“Good-bye, miss.”
The door opened and shut, and Duff came around the corner to find Alethia sitting on the bed, her hand gently touching her cheek.
“I heard what you said to Mrs. Keckley. It was nice.”
Alethia turned her nails into her flesh and pulled down. His larger hand covered hers and pulled it away from her cheek, which was already showing a welt.
“Please, don’t. Come with me for a carriage ride. It’ll do us good.”
Nodding woodenly, Alethia, without a word, Duff down the staircase and out the door to the carriage. She brightened, in accordance with the role she played, to wave and smile at pedestrians who called out greetings. Once the carriage passed from downtown to the countryside, Alethia slumped back in her seat, putting her hands to her forehead.
“Alethia,” Duff spoke in a low tone so the driver could not hear, “I know I’ve hurt you deeply, for which I’m terribly sorry, and I understand you cannot forgive me. The worst part is that I have to hurt you again, and you’ll probably hate me even more.” He paused for a response; when none came, Duff continued, “Your friend, Rose Greenhow, is dead.”
“What?” Her eyes filled with tears. Her head snapped toward his face.
“She drowned when her ship sank off the coast of South Carolina. She was returning from London.”
After moments of searching his face, Alethia collapsed against his shoulder, sobbing. He patted her back and began sputtering words of comfort. Alethia stiffened.
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered furiously. “How dare you try to console me?”
“I’m sorry,” Duff replied.
The carriage continued for miles in silence until they had returned to the city, where they again began waving and calling out to the crowd. After dismounting from the carriage, they entered the Executive Mansion and climbed the staircase. Alethia turned abruptly to glare at him.
“We’ve only a couple more hours together. Don’t speak to me again. After tonight, I’ll return to Bladensburg and open my bakery—I hope to be a better person for the lessons I’ve learned here. And you, I don’t care where you go or what you do as long as you never enter my life again.”