ANNAPOLIS
A GOLDEN EVENING WALK
Annapolis
Light hues of pink and orange with twilight’s kiss of red bathed the State House dome as a gentle sea breeze relieved the city of the sweltering heat of the day.
The quartet set out from the Maryland Inn. John Rodgers was resplendent in his dress navy blue tunic with gold piping, white breeches tucked into highly polished black knee boots. His fore-and-aft hat, also navy blue with gold piping, tucked under his arm, and let out a barely audible groan as he tried to tame his untamable black hair.
Minerva giggled as she put her arm through his. “You know there is nothing you can do. You’re always going to look like a crazed pirate.”
“I could shave it.”
“Now, that could be fun.”
He sighed. “You always call my bluff.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when I called your bluff at our little poker game last night.”
“That’s because it never matters who wins what hand. I always get what I want by the end.”
She smacked his hand. “End? We haven’t finished a single game!”
“Of course we did. Just not at the table.”
“See! You are a crazed pirate. My crazed scoundrel.” She locked her arm tightly around his. “Now, kiss me, Mister Buccaneer.”
John smiled, leaned down slightly and gave her a quick, soft kiss.
“Hmph.” Her brow arched mischievously. “If you want to play poker again tonight?”
John chuckled. “Yes?”
“Oh, never mind.” She laid her head on his arm. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He gazed at her and drew in a deep breath. A petite blond with refined grace and bright blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence and kindness. She was stunning tonight. Her elegant silk dress was light blue with a traditional empire waist that was cinched tight just under her bosom and flowed elegantly to her shoes. The only accessory was her gold anchor brooch.
Trailing not too far behind, Jack, also in uniform, felt an elbow nudge his ribs. Susan Decatur slipped her arm through his and leaned against his shoulder. His weight shifted enough to make him press down harder on the cane. It also reminded him of the weight of this event, and the responsibility of escorting Mrs. Stephen Decatur. Every nerve in my body is tingling. Don’t mess this up, Pyle.
She lifted her head and whispered in his ear. “Pay attention, Jack.”
Jack nodded and did as she asked, and kept his eyes fixed forward. Together, the Commodore and Mrs. Rodgers appeared exactly as they should, the senior officer of the United States Navy and his beautiful and equally influential wife. He remembered her visiting President many times, in many places and thought nothing of it. “To what?”
Susan whacked him with the fan she carried. “Density, thy name is Jack Pyle. You can navigate a warship into a harbor. But heavens! Minerva and I have our work cut out for us.”
Jack exhaled. “Apologies, ma’am.”
She whacked him again. Harder this time. “Two new rules! Never break these!”
Her voice softened, and she gave his arm a squeeze. “First, never call me ma’am again unless Stephen is with me. Then, it’s decorum. Got it?”
“Understood.” He swallowed hard to prevent ‘ma’am’ from coming out again.
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Good. Second. Never apologize. It’s a sign of weakness. If you ever think you have slighted a lady, remember jewelry, flowers, books in that order.”
“Jewelry, flowers, books.”
“Very good, Jack. There is hope for you yet.” She nudged him again. “You are definitely walking better. And that cane lends you an air of mystery. Very attractive to a young woman like Penny.”
“Subtlety, thy name is not Susan Decatur.”
“Ha! Good for you, Jack!” She patted his arm and smiled.
They walked silently the rest of the way, and Jack used this time to study the woman he was escorting. When he first saw her come down the stairs back at the Chase House, nearly took his breath away. But he felt the Commodore’s hand on his shoulder and focused on reading her.
A social event is politics, and war is politics by other means. Jack steadied himself, balanced what he saw with what he knew and observed her from a tactical viewpoint. Susan was the wife of one of the nation’s biggest celebrities and drew attention, wanted or not. She prepared herself for a social engagement like her husband prepared, strategically and tactically, for a battle.
Her soft brown hair swept up into an intricate twist and secured in place with an elegant gold comb adorned with a single rose-pink blossom. Most of her dress perfectly matched the blossom in her comb. Short and puffy crimson sleeves lay daringly off her shoulders, melding into a two-inch wide neckline that ran straight along the top of her bosom. Dangling and delicate earrings with rose-pink gemstones caught the light, complementing the vibrancy of her dress.
Her perfume was her social weapon of choice. Sweet floral notes of jasmine announced her elegance and femininity, while an earthy undertone of musk simultaneously hinted at a romantic sensuality and masked a palpable danger coiled like an over-tightened spring, a trap reserved for anyone foolhardy enough to challenge her.
Jack was proud that her husband trusted him to escort his wife. His responsibility was to stay by her side the entire night, to remain in the background, and to allow her to shine uneclipsed. Susan gave him a playful nudge, which he returned with a confident smile and nudge of his own.
As the Paca House soon came into full view, the brick sidewalk expanded from the edge of the street toward the foot of the brick staircase. Flanking the two-story mansion, lower pavilions and connecting hyphens created a sprawling, five-part Georgian masterpiece under steep slate roofs. Faint wisps of joyful music spilled onto the street and mixed with the soft buzz of multiple conversations.
Immaculately uniformed Maryland militiamen stood posted at the bustling entrance to the mansion and in strategic locations throughout the grounds. Ostensibly there for crowd control, their real purpose was to represent Maryland’s military commitment to the state and country.
“Commodore?”
“Jack?”
“Is there an outer perimeter somewhere out of sight?”
“What are you talking about, son?”
Jack nodded toward the militiamen and shrugged.
The Commodore and his wife both stopped. Minerva shot a fiendish smile at her husband. “Be careful how you answer him.”
“Oh, right.” The Commodore grinned. “This is your first time in Annapolis. I’ve been here many times professionally and personally.”
“Sir?”
Everybody but Jack laughed. Another lesson!
Rodgers cleared his throat and addressed Jack. “Professionally, under orders from the Navy. Personally, under orders from my wife.” He sidestepped just in time to avoid a sharp elbow to his ribs.
“Oh.” Jack shook his head and shrugged. “So, where’s the crowd, sir?”
“This is Annapolis, Jack. Everybody who is anybody has visited this place at least once and many several times. Heavens. Washington himself loved this place, especially the horse races. Even while he was president, he invented reasons to come here. Add in continuous visits by Adams, Jefferson, nearly every signer of the Declaration.”
“But one man always commanded the rapt attention of every place he visited, Dr. Benjamin Franklin. He was the one man even jaded politicians would fawn over. He came here frequently, including right before he and his delegation set out to negotiate the Treaty of Paris. By the way, Annapolis was the national capital then, and, of course, hosted the deliberation and ratification of the treaty here at the State House. Oh, and the Maryland Inn hosted many, some say most, of the informal discussions.”
“I still don’t get it. There should be guards all over this place.”
Rodgers nodded. “The townspeople here just became used to all of those celebrity visitors long ago and simply concentrated on their businesses and their jobs.” He shrugged. “That helped them to make more money, too.”
“So, they really don’t need the militiamen?”
“The militiamen are here to add prestige to a significant social event. Remember, a social event is politics with dinner and music.”
“Ah. I see. Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome. Now enjoy yourself.” Rodgers grinned and nodded toward Susan. “And keep that one out of trouble.”
“Hmph! I’ll have you know, Mister Commodore, that I will be on my best behavior tonight. So there.” Susan stuck out her tongue, then turned away.
Rodgers couldn’t help himself and burst out laughing. “Good luck, Jack. You’re going to need it.”
“No, he won’t.” Minerva tugged on her husband’s arm. “Anne Chase is in charge of the dinner. Susan and I will help her.”
Susan smiled at Jack. “That is true. You’re off the hook, Mister Pyle.” Her eyes quickly filled with mischief. “At least for a while.”
Jack simply shook his head. “Commodore?”
“Yes, Mister Pyle?” Rodgers looked his midshipman in the eye.
“I dare say I’ve learned more than a dozen lessons today.” Jack let out a low whistle.
Rodgers winked. “We’re just getting started.”
Susan yanked on Jack’s arm and chimed in. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”
Jack bit his lip. Lord have mercy!
