Less Than a Gentleman

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  “But armies do it all the time.” Edward gestured to the soldiers on the floor. “And these are armies.”

  “These are toys.” Caroline dropped the soldiers into the tin box. “And they belong to Jane’s son, Matthias.”

  “Aunt Jane said I could have them. I told her I’d be ten years old tomorrow.”

  Caroline winced inwardly. She had no gift for Edward’s birthday. “This is hardly the way to repay her kindness.”

  Virginia struggled to her feet. “When are you burning them, Edward?”

  “He does it at night when you’re asleep.” Charlotte tugged at her yarn, and the ball rolled off her lap onto the floor. She set down her knitting to run after it.

  “How are you starting the fire?” Virginia asked.

  “The tinder wheel,” Edward mumbled.

  Caroline set the tin box of soldiers on the bookcase. “You told me you would light candles so you could read.”

  Having retrieved her ball of yarn, Charlotte proceeded to wind it back up. “He caught his bed on fire once, but the ghost put it out.”

  Edward glowered at her. “Don’t you know when to hush?”

  Caroline strode to Edward’s bed and inspected the pillows. One was scorched. “Where’s your blanket?”

  “In that trunk.” Edward pointed. “It has a black spot.”

  “So you hid it?” Virginia regarded him sadly. “Edward, you could have burned the house down.”

  “No, he won’t.” Charlotte sat on her bed next to her mother. “The ghost will stop him.”

  “He wasn’t a ghost, you bufflehead,” Edward growled.

  “Don’t insult your—” Virginia paled. “There was a man in here? At night?”

  “He was a nice ghost,” Charlotte insisted. “He put out the fire and fussed at Edward. Then he vanished.”

  “He went out the door,” Edward said.

  Charlotte assumed a superior look. “Did you see him?”

  “No.” Edward wrinkled his nose in disgust. “It was dark because he put out the fire.”

  “Enough!” Virginia raised her hands. “Give me the tinder wheel. Now.”

  Edward trudged to his bed, retrieved the item from underneath, then handed it to his mother. “I’m sorry.”

  Caroline noted her sister’s weary expression. Poor Ginny tired so easily these days. And she was growing increasingly worried about her missing husband. At least now, thanks to Haversham, they knew that their father was safe. “Why don’t I take the children outside while you rest?”

  Virginia nodded. “Stay away from Miss Ludlow.”

  “We will.” Caroline ushered the children from the room.

  The sounds of the harpsichord echoed through the house. Agatha was in the front parlor, entertaining Jane once again, so Caroline and the children slipped quietly out the back door. Since Agatha also frequented the garden, Caroline headed to the path along the river.

  The sparkling water and blooming swamp rose comforted her frayed nerves. “No more destroying property, Edward. There is enough destruction in this world without us adding to it.”

  Edward shuffled his feet. “I said I was sorry.”

  “You’ll have to say it again when Jane’s son comes home.”

  Charlotte slipped her hand into Caroline’s. “Do you think he’ll marry Miss Ludlow?”

  “I don’t know.” Caroline enjoyed the feel of the little girl’s hand, so small and delicate. “I suspect he’ll find Miss Ludlow even more distressing than his melted toys.”

  Charlotte giggled.

  Edward raced ahead. “I’m going to hide. I bet you won’t be able to find me.”

  For a moment, Caroline considered the benefits of never finding Edward, then chided herself for mean thoughts. She’d have to ask Dottie to bake something special to mark his tenth birthday.

  Her thoughts returned once again to Haversham. It had been over two weeks since she’d last seen him.

  She chewed her bottom lip, unsure what to think. She was obviously attracted to him. She’d practically thrown herself at him in the pergola. He was a strong and handsome man of wit and intelligence, but that hardly constituted a reason to kiss him. There was something more, something hard to define, but she sensed that he understood her, that he somehow needed her.

  So where was he? Putting out fires in the middle of the night? “Charlotte, this man who was in your room, did he know you and Edward by name?”

  “I think so. He called me Princess. At first, I thought he was Papa, but he said he wasn’t.”

  Caroline recalled Haversham using the name Princess for her niece. “When did this happen? Was it the night before Miss Ludlow fell in the pond?” The night he’d first kissed her?

  Charlotte nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  “Have you seen him since then?”

  “No. He disappeared.”

  Caroline sighed. “I’m afraid he has.” Her greatest fear was that he’d left to join the army. Her heart squeezed, and she shoved the worrisome thoughts away. Haversham was big and strong. He would survive, no matter what he was doing. And he would return. He had to.

  Down the path, she saw the leaves of the sycamore tree tremble in the sun. A branch dipped slightly. No doubt, a long-legged bird had come to roost.

  She stopped before a slender young river birch, not much taller than herself. With her hands on her hips, she glared at its leafy canopy. “Edward, I know you’re in there. Come down this instant.”

  Charlotte grinned. “Edward’s not there. That tree is too small.”

  “Hmm.” Caroline scanned the surroundings and located an anthill at the base of a pine tree. “There you are, Edward. Come out of that hole this instant.”

  Charlotte burst into giggles.

  Edward dropped from the sycamore tree. “Here I am!”

  “Oh, my!” Caroline gasped. “I would have never guessed.”

  Edward laughed and ran down the path. “I’m going to hide again.”

  “Me too.” Charlotte dashed after him.

  Smiling, Caroline ambled after them. The game continued until they reached the gristmill. The children skipped down to the riverbank to observe the waterwheel.

  “Careful,” Caroline warned them. “Don’t get too close.”

  “Can we go inside the mill?” Edward asked.

  Caroline looked about. About fifty yards back from the river, a cabin rested on a hill in the shade of old oak trees. Flowerbeds surrounded the whitewashed walls. The sun glinted off the glass windows.

  “Maybe the miller lives there. We’ll ask him.” Caroline approached the house. She knocked, but no one answered.

  “Godsookers.”

  She heard Edward’s voice on the side of the house. She joined him there and stopped short.

  The hill provided an overlook to the south, where fields of indigo stretched far into the distance. A dusty path led down the hill to a row of shabby wooden cabins.

  “Who lives there?” Charlotte asked.

  “The slaves, I suppose.” Caroline lifted her hand to her brow to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare. In the distance, she spotted men and women working in the fields.

  “Can I help you?” a man’s voice asked from behind.

  Caroline spun about. For a moment, spots of light danced before her eyes from having peered into the sun. The man seemed familiar. Her heart beat faster. “Haversham?”

  “No, I’m Jacob. I apologize for taking so long to answer the door. May I help you?”

  As her sight cleared, Caroline realized her mistake. At first glance, this man’s height and bearing were almost identical to Haversham’s, but he possessed a darker complexion and brown eyes.

  “I’m sorry if we disturbed you. I’m Caroline Munro.” When she extended her hand, the man hesitated a moment before taking it. “Th
is is Charlotte and—”

  “Edward.” Jacob smiled. “I’ve heard all about you from Dottie. Would you like something to drink? Some cider?”

  “Thank you.” Caroline followed him with the children. “We were admiring your house. Do you live alone here?”

  “Yes.” He opened the front door and motioned for them to enter. “My mother died about six months ago.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Caroline walked into a sunny parlor. The plastered walls had been painted light yellow. White curtains adorned the windows. The mirror over the hearth had a hairline crack down the middle.

  “I like your house.” Charlotte wiggled onto a plain wooden settee.

  “Thank you.” Jacob retrieved four pewter mugs from a cupboard and set them on a pinewood table. “My mother used to cook here, but now I go to the kitchen and eat with Dottie.”

  Caroline suspected he still grieved for his mother and was lonesome living by himself. “We’ve been enjoying Dottie’s cooking, too.” She sat next to her niece on the wooden settee. “Unfortunately, we’ve made more work for her and Betsy. I help when I can, but Dottie tries to shoo me away.”

  Jacob handed mugs of cider to her and Charlotte. “She knows you’re guests.”

  “Yes,” Caroline conceded, “but we weren’t exactly invited.”

  “So I hear.” Jacob smiled as he sat next to Edward at the table.

  “Are you in charge of the mill?” Caroline asked.

  “Yes. I’ve been in charge of most everything at the plantation since last April.” Jacob pointed at the pile of paperwork on the drop-leaf desk.

  “Can we go inside the mill?” Edward asked him.

  “I have some work to finish, but if you come in a few days, I’ll take you on a tour.”

  “Thank you.” Edward gulped down some cider.

  “The mill has some interesting mechanical devices inside,” Jacob continued. “My father and I installed them.”

  “Really?” Edward leaned forward. “How do they work?”

  “I’ll show you later.” Jacob sipped from his mug. “Father and I have always shared an interest in scientific properties and mechanical engineering. We built the armillary sphere in the garden.”

  “You mean the metal contraption at the end of the reflecting pool?” Caroline asked.

  “Yes.” Jacob nodded. “We spent hours working on all sorts of projects. Now he’s . . . gone.”

  “I’m so sorry.” His father must have passed away, too, Caroline thought. Jacob was an interesting man. Of mixed race, yet well educated. Friendly, but apparently lonely. And quite busy from the looks of his desk.

  She rose and set her empty cup on the table. “We should let you resume your work, but we’ll come again. Thank you for the invitation. And the cider.”

  “It was good to meet you.” Jacob stood. “I’ll walk you back.”

  Halfway to the Great House, they discovered Jane Thomas scurrying toward them.

  “There you are, Caroline. I’ve been looking all over for you. Oh.” Jane glanced at Jacob, then quickly away. “I—I didn’t realize you knew each other.”

  “We just met.” Caroline noted the frightened glint in Jane’s eyes. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes.” Jane motioned toward the river. “They’re back. They’re docking at the pier right now.”

  “Who is back?” Jacob asked.

  “Agatha is delighted they have returned.” Jane clenched her hands together. “I should have never invited her here. She is increasingly hard to bear. She knows only two pieces of music, and she plays them over and over.”

  “You can hide in the nursery with us,” Charlotte suggested.

  Jane laughed nervously. “I may do that.” She led them toward the pier. “I was afraid this would happen. The captain mentioned before that he was impressed with the house and its location.”

  They rounded the bend, and the pier came into view. The children gasped. Jacob cursed softly.

  Two large barges had docked at the pier. British soldiers unloaded crates and horses.

  “They’re moving in?” Caroline whispered.

  Jane nodded. “Will you come with me to greet them?”

  “No!” Charlotte seized Caroline’s skirt. “Don’t let them come! They’re bad men!”

  The fear on the little girl’s face pierced Caroline’s heart. Her first instinct was to take the children and run. But Jane was afraid, too. She couldn’t repay Jane’s hospitality by leaving her alone to face the British. And she couldn’t expect Virginia to travel during her last weeks of pregnancy. There was no choice but to stay.

  “I’ll come with you,” Caroline told Jane, then she knelt in front of the children. “Listen to me. We will have to be brave. Remember to be courteous at all times, and you must never mention that your father or grandfather are fighting with the Continentals. Never. Do you understand?”

  They nodded.

  “Edward, take your sister through the trees to the back of the house. Then go to the kitchen and tell Dottie what has happened. Stay there ’til I come for you.”

  “I’ll take them,” Jacob offered. “They’ll be safe with me.”

  “Thank you.” Caroline watched Jacob lead the children through the trees that bordered the front lawn. “He’s a nice man. I’m glad he’s here.”

  Jane sighed. “We all have our crosses to bear.”

  An odd thing to say, Caroline thought, though Jane might be referring to the redcoats who were taking over her house. “We’ll have to pray they won’t stay very long.”

  “Oh, no.” Jane pressed a hand to her chest. “What if my son returns now? This is terrible.”

  “We must hope for the best.” Caroline studied the redcoats in the distance. “Now that I think about it, if there are officers living here, they might know a great deal. And there could be quite a few messages that pass through the house on the way to Cornwallis.”

  “What are you saying?” Jane gave her a horrified look. “Are you suggesting we spy on them?”

  Caroline swallowed hard. She’d merely been thinking out loud, but her thoughts were definitely leading her toward espionage. Did she dare?

  Jane grabbed her arm. “You mustn’t. ’Tis far too dangerous.”

  Caroline recognized Captain Hickman amongst the soldiers. He would make a likely target. “With a little flirtation, I might learn something important.”

  Jane shook her head. “You’re frightening me.”

  She was frightening herself. Caroline steeled her nerves. She could do this. Her sister had been successful as a spy in Boston. Haversham had said there were patriot soldiers in the area. Any useful information she gleaned could be passed on to them. “Don’t worry, Jane. I’ll be careful.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Matthias knew something was wrong the minute he rode into the stable. It was highly doubtful the new horses had arrived at Loblolly on their own.

  He sprinted from the stable to the side of the kitchen, then peeked in the kitchen window. Only Dottie was inside. He edged to the corner of the building, his back pressed against the brick wall.

  There was just enough moonlight to see the British foot soldier on patrol. Matthias waited for him to round the corner of the Great House, then he dashed into the kitchen and rolled a barrel against the door.

  “How many redcoats are there?” he asked as he wolfed down a bowl of stew.

  “Six.” Dottie poured him a mug of ale. “Captain Hickman and five soldiers. Three of them will be leaving in the morning.”

  “But the captain is staying?” Matthias ripped a biscuit in two. “For how long?”

  “Could be a long time.” With a sigh, Dottie sat across from him. “I considered putting something in the food as a welcoming present, but I didn’t want to make the ladies ill, too.”

  Matthias snort
ed. “Have a care with your potions. We don’t want them angry with my mother. How is she doing?”

  “She’s nervous. Thank goodness she’s already hidden most of the silver. Her greatest fear is that you’ll show up. She wants you to stay away from the Great House.”

  Matthias munched on half the biscuit as he considered. The servants’ passageway would be safe enough, but hardly a decent place to sleep. “I could stay on the third floor.”

  “No. The foot soldiers are rooming there.”

  “Damn.” The redcoats were too bloody close to Caroline. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it.” Dottie propped her feet up on a neighboring chair. “The soldiers come in every now and then for a nip of rum. The safest place for you is with your brother.”

  Matthias tossed the last of his biscuit onto his plate. “I don’t have a brother.”

  “Your half brother, then.”

  “I’ll sleep in the henhouse if I have to.”

  “Why are you so stubborn? Jacob is a good man. You should get to know him.”

  Ignoring her, Matthias stood and stretched. “I need to bathe. Did you wash those clothes I left here before?”

  “Yes.” Dottie scowled at him. “They’re in the cupboard in the bathing room.”

  Aware that Dottie was continuing to glower at him, he carried water to the tub in the small adjoining room.

  Dottie paced to her private room. “Why bother to bathe if you plan to sleep in a henhouse?” she muttered, then shut her door with more force than necessary.

  As Matthias washed, he weighed the dangers of seeing Caroline. First he’d have to make it past the redcoats on the third floor. Then he’d have to deal with her sharp teeth. Would she be angry that he’d stayed away for so long?

  Dressed in clean clothes, he located an oil lamp and lit it from the kitchen hearth. The lamplight would be too noticeable outside, so he draped a towel over it. He rolled the barrel away from the door, waited for the guard to pass by the kitchen, then dashed to the Great House.

  The doors were not barred, probably so the guards could come and go. He slipped through the servants’ door, passed through the dining room, then entered the storeroom. When he removed the towel from the lamp, the flame leapt to life. China and crystal gleamed on the shelves, but gaps remained where his mother had once displayed her silver.