and he winked at her before he moved toward the trees at the river’s bank.
The soldiers inched around her, one sitting on the stool and the other on the edge of the bed. She thought they would ask questions about a white man cleaning their rooms, but they did not seem to notice anything amiss. Perhaps they were too afraid to ask a question of her, afraid she might bore them with her explanation.
Godspeed
,
Nathan
.
After he delivered his message, she hoped he was well enough to return to his family.
Chapter Eleven
Nathan ducked behind a tree and leaned back against the trunk, gulping in the fresh air. It had only been a short walk to the riverbank, but his foot was throbbing. Thank God for Elisha’s cane—and for Lydia’s sharp wit and calm demeanor as she played along with his scheme. Thank God Major Reed and his men wouldn’t think to look for him here.
Unlike the bright-red coats of the Tories, his stained cotton shirt blended into the willows and underbrush. He sank onto the ground, hidden by the barren branches, and watched Lydia stroll like a gentle lady toward the main house. Her beautiful chestnut hair was hidden behind the hood of her cloak, and she didn’t make the slightest move to look his way.
Part of him wished she would look one last time, a parting glance of sorts, a secret for them to keep. But even a single glance was risky. Anyone watching her might suspect his location if she had.
If only she was on the Patriots’ side—
But she wasn’t, and no amount of wishing would change Lydia or her family’s loyalties. Still, he owed his life to her. Once the Patriots won this war, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.
He glanced out at the wide river that drummed against the banks. If Lydia hadn’t found him, if she hadn’t been willing to risk her reputation and perhaps even her life, he would have died by the river.
Elisha said to walk east to find his boat, but he would wait until dark to retrieve it.
Checking inside his waistcoat, he found the small pouch made of deer hide secured there, the letter safe and dry inside. Then he patted the top of the blanket he’d taken out of the room, his excuse to escape.Wrapped inside the blanket was the package of food that Elisha had provided for him, along with the woolen scarf once worn by Lydia’s brother.
He smiled.
Perhaps one day he could return the blanket and clothing to Lydia.
Lydia’s hands trembled as she tugged on one of the pale-blue gloves that matched her gown, even as Hannah chattered endlessly about which of their new guests she thought handsome and which she’d already determined to be dolts. Until now, Lydia had been too preoccupied to examine any of their guests for their appearance or wit. There was only one man who concerned her, and oddly enough, it wasn’t Seth Hammond.
Two years ago, after the family’s last formal dinner, Seth had stood with her and Father in the privacy of their library, declaring his fervor for freedom. Father had been so angry that he’d struck Seth across the cheek.
Seth tried to explain that he would never have killed the senior Caswell, that not all men on the side of the Patriots believed that those who remained loyal to the Crown should be humiliated. Most of their men simply wanted freedom, not rebellion, and he could not understand why Lord Caswell didn’t demand freedom from tyranny as well. Her father responded that the king should rule their nation just as he himself ruled Caswell Hall.
Then Seth had looked at her, imploring her with his eyes to take a stand. She remembered the moment as if it was hours ago. He’d reached for her hand, but instead of standing with him, she’d stepped away.
Everything changed in that one moment. His eyes no longer invited her to him. Instead, they seemed to dismiss her. He never broke their engagement, not officially, but in that moment, she knew he might never marry her, not unless she became a Patriot. Even then, it might be too
The soldiers inched around her, one sitting on the stool and the other on the edge of the bed. She thought they would ask questions about a white man cleaning their rooms, but they did not seem to notice anything amiss. Perhaps they were too afraid to ask a question of her, afraid she might bore them with her explanation.
Godspeed
,
Nathan
.
After he delivered his message, she hoped he was well enough to return to his family.
Chapter Eleven
Nathan ducked behind a tree and leaned back against the trunk, gulping in the fresh air. It had only been a short walk to the riverbank, but his foot was throbbing. Thank God for Elisha’s cane—and for Lydia’s sharp wit and calm demeanor as she played along with his scheme. Thank God Major Reed and his men wouldn’t think to look for him here.
Unlike the bright-red coats of the Tories, his stained cotton shirt blended into the willows and underbrush. He sank onto the ground, hidden by the barren branches, and watched Lydia stroll like a gentle lady toward the main house. Her beautiful chestnut hair was hidden behind the hood of her cloak, and she didn’t make the slightest move to look his way.
Part of him wished she would look one last time, a parting glance of sorts, a secret for them to keep. But even a single glance was risky. Anyone watching her might suspect his location if she had.
If only she was on the Patriots’ side—
But she wasn’t, and no amount of wishing would change Lydia or her family’s loyalties. Still, he owed his life to her. Once the Patriots won this war, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.
He glanced out at the wide river that drummed against the banks. If Lydia hadn’t found him, if she hadn’t been willing to risk her reputation and perhaps even her life, he would have died by the river.
Elisha said to walk east to find his boat, but he would wait until dark to retrieve it.
Checking inside his waistcoat, he found the small pouch made of deer hide secured there, the letter safe and dry inside. Then he patted the top of the blanket he’d taken out of the room, his excuse to escape.Wrapped inside the blanket was the package of food that Elisha had provided for him, along with the woolen scarf once worn by Lydia’s brother.
He smiled.
Perhaps one day he could return the blanket and clothing to Lydia.
Lydia’s hands trembled as she tugged on one of the pale-blue gloves that matched her gown, even as Hannah chattered endlessly about which of their new guests she thought handsome and which she’d already determined to be dolts. Until now, Lydia had been too preoccupied to examine any of their guests for their appearance or wit. There was only one man who concerned her, and oddly enough, it wasn’t Seth Hammond.
Two years ago, after the family’s last formal dinner, Seth had stood with her and Father in the privacy of their library, declaring his fervor for freedom. Father had been so angry that he’d struck Seth across the cheek.
Seth tried to explain that he would never have killed the senior Caswell, that not all men on the side of the Patriots believed that those who remained loyal to the Crown should be humiliated. Most of their men simply wanted freedom, not rebellion, and he could not understand why Lord Caswell didn’t demand freedom from tyranny as well. Her father responded that the king should rule their nation just as he himself ruled Caswell Hall.
Then Seth had looked at her, imploring her with his eyes to take a stand. She remembered the moment as if it was hours ago. He’d reached for her hand, but instead of standing with him, she’d stepped away.
Everything changed in that one moment. His eyes no longer invited her to him. Instead, they seemed to dismiss her. He never broke their engagement, not officially, but in that moment, she knew he might never marry her, not unless she became a Patriot. Even then, it might be too
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