Less Than a Gentleman

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  They poled their raft across the river. As they tied off beside the larger barge, Caroline approached them on the pier.

  “Here.” Matthias handed her the shuttered lantern. “Light this from the fire.”

  They set straight to work. Matthias and Jacob pried off the tops of barrels and crates. Just as he suspected, the British were transporting food, muskets, and gunpowder—all items the militia sorely needed.

  A simple robbery would not suffice. The British would know if crates and barrels were suddenly too light. So they planned to exchange the British cargo for their own worthless one.

  The soldiers snored peacefully by the fire while Matthias and his team made the switch. When the raft had taken all the weight it could, they poled it downriver to the gristmill and unloaded the loot.

  Matthias lifted a barrel of gunpowder. “I’ll be right back.” He ran to Jacob’s house, deposited the gunpowder on the back porch, then returned to find Caroline and Jacob still storing the stolen loot in the mill.

  When they were done, they returned to the enemy camp for another load. Once the British barrels and crates were empty, they filled them with counterfeit cargo, then hammered the lids back on.

  “Let’s go.” Matthias helped Caroline onto the raft. She settled on a burlap sack filled with flour. Jacob and Matthias poled the raft downstream.

  They left the light of the campfire behind. A crescent moon hovered over them, partially concealed by wispy clouds. The mill clung to the riverbank, an immense black shadow, its huge wheel groaning as it slowly turned and slapped the water. They passed the load they had left at the mill, planning to come back for it later.

  Caroline opened the shutters of the lantern completely. “It went well, don’t you think?”

  “Yes.” Matthias swatted at a mosquito that buzzed by his ear. “You’re certain this cabin is deserted?”

  “It was a few weeks ago. The partisans had burned the ferry, and the owner claimed he was ruined. He left . . . on our horse with all our belongings.”

  “I see.” Matthias recalled burning the ferry himself.

  “It shouldn’t be far.” Caroline yawned. “We were on foot and not moving very quickly.”

  Soon, the lantern light picked out the remains of the burned ferry. Matthias and Jacob maneuvered the raft to the north riverbank, tied it off, then grabbed some items to carry to the cabin. Caroline accompanied them, carrying the lantern.

  “Wait here.” Matthias dropped his sack outside the door and pulled the knife from his belt. He pushed the door open and peered inside. Empty. Almost. Four golden eyes stared down at him from a shelf. He set the lantern on a table. “We have a few uninvited guests.”

  “There they are.” Caroline pointed. “Raccoons. The rascals will get into the food.” Stifling another yawn, she located a broom. “I’ll try to shoo them away.”

  The men returned to the raft. Matthias came back with an armload of muskets.

  “They’re gone!” Caroline announced with a smile. “I chased them out the back door.” Her smile faded as she stumbled back and steadied herself by leaning on the broom.

  “Are you all right?” Matthias deposited the weapons on the floor.

  She rubbed her brow. “I feel a little . . . tired.”

  “I knew it.” Matthias grabbed her just as the broomstick clattered onto the floor. “You drank some rum, didn’t you?”

  “I . . . didn’t mean to . . .” Her head rolled against his shoulder. Her body went limp.

  “Damn.” He lifted her in his arms.

  Jacob strode in with two buckets full of gunpowder. “What happened?”

  “She’s out.” Matthias carried her to the narrow bed in the corner. “We’ll have to take her with us when we go back for the second load.” He adjusted her skirt to cover her ankles. “I’m not leaving her alone in this condition. She cannot protect herself.”

  Jacob set the buckets down. “Why don’t you tell her the truth?”

  “I wish I could, but I’m a wanted man. ’Tis safer for her not to know who I am.”

  “I was referring to your feelings.”

  Matthias crooked a finger in his neck cloth to loosen it. “She knows that I care about her. Come, we have a job to finish.”

  Jacob followed him out the door. “If you care about her, then you should tell her the truth.”

  Matthias groaned. Ever since the meeting in the orchard he had managed to maintain a business-like attitude around Caroline. And she had done likewise. “She doesn’t want to be involved with a spy. And she’s right. As long as I’m involved with the war, I shouldn’t court a woman.” He reached the raft. “Take the other end of this crate, will you?”

  “You could do as she suggested and go away. The two of you.” Jacob lifted his side of the crate with a grunt. “And when the war is over, you could come back to live at Loblolly.”

  Matthias trudged alongside Jacob, carrying the other end of the crate. “I’m not sure she could be happy at Loblolly. I’m not sure I could, but then, I don’t have a choice.”

  Jacob gave him a surprised look. “Don’t you want to run the plantation like our father did?”

  “No!” Matthias dropped the crate inside the cabin. “Not like Father. Never like him.”

  Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “You have a problem with our father?”

  “Of course I do. Don’t you? The man owns you.” Matthias stalked toward the raft. He hefted a burlap sack over his shoulder and paced back to the cabin.

  Jacob grabbed a small crate and followed him. “I have good reason to be angry, but why would you resent Father? I used to watch you and Richard playing in the garden. You had the ideal childhood.”

  Matthias dropped the sack on the floor of the cabin. Ideal childhood? He’d been plagued with nightmares and guilt. He’d felt ashamed of his father and grandfather, yet had tried in vain to gain their approval. “My father wanted nothing to do with me. He was happy to send me away for an education. But you, he taught you himself.”

  With a snort, Jacob set down his crate. “You complain? I would have given anything to go to college like you.”

  “I would have given anything if he had loved me. Or at least loved my mother.” Matthias strode out the door toward the raft.

  “I get it,” Jacob said softly. “You’re jealous.”

  “What?” Matthias spun around. “Are you crazed?”

  “You’re jealous because he wanted my mother, not yours. He wanted to be with me, not you.”

  Matthias clenched his fists. How dare the bastard throw that at his face? Jealous? No, he was furious. “Why would I want to spend any time with that sorry excuse of a father? He forced young maids into his bed. They couldn’t refuse him because he owned them. He was a bloody rapist!”

  “Don’t talk about him like that!” Jacob stalked toward him, his hands fisted.

  “He raped them,” Matthias hissed. “He raped your mother.”

  “No!” Jacob grabbed Matt by his shirt and pulled him forward. His eyes blazed with anger as he raised a fist. “He loved my mother. And she loved him. He loved her long before he was ever forced to marry your mother.”

  “You can defend him? He cheated on your mother. He cheated on mine.”

  Jacob’s breathed heavily, his fist trembling in front of Matthias’s face. “Damn you.”

  It suddenly struck Matthias that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t the only son who had suffered from the sins of his father. “Are you going to hit me?”

  Jacob pushed him away. “You can have a slave flogged for striking his master.”

  “I am not your master!”

  “You will be soon enough.”

  Matthias closed his eyes. Why couldn’t his bastard of a father live forever? Loblolly was the last place on earth he wanted to inherit. Bloody hell, Richard was right. He was using the war
as an excuse. It wasn’t the war that was keeping him from moving on with his life. It was his home.

  He opened his eyes and studied the man before him. Tall, strong, determined, intelligent. And loyal. Jacob had cause to hate Father, but he defended him. And Father had loved Jacob more. Father had loved Jacob’s mother more. God help him, Matthias realized the truth. He was jealous.

  He took a deep breath. “As soon as I can, I’ll free you.”

  “What?”

  Matthias bent over to pick up a crate. “You heard me.” He strode to the cabin. Please don’t thank me. It would be humiliating to be thanked for common decency. He plunked the crate down on the floor. When he turned, Jacob was standing in the doorway, his brown eyes glimmering with moisture.

  “Free them all,” he said softly.

  Matthias slipped past him, headed for the raft. “The plantation cannot survive without them.”

  Jacob followed him. “There might be a way to manage it. I’ve given it a great deal of thought.”

  “I have no choice.” Matthias picked up a sack and trudged toward the cabin. “I made a vow to my grandfather on his deathbed that I would continue his damned legacy.” Matthias dropped the sack on top of a crate. “I’m bloody well trapped. As trapped as any slave.”

  Jacob snorted and plunked down his sack. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

  “You don’t have to feel anything. You’ll be free to go. It will be my problem.” Matthias returned to the raft.

  “I could help. We could come up with an alternative—”

  “I am not freeing them. It would be the death of the plantation. Would you have my mother homeless? Have me break my vow to my grandfather?” He hefted the last sack on his shoulder.

  “Is your vow more important than freedom? I thought you were fighting for freedom.”

  Matthias adjusted the sack on his shoulder. “There’s nothing I can do.” He trudged toward the cabin. Trapped. Trapped in a life he didn’t want by a vow he hadn’t wanted to make. He dropped the sack on the table.

  Jacob stopped beside him. “You’re not what I expected you to be.”

  “Neither are you.” Matthias slid his hands under Caroline and scooped her into his arms. “Let’s go back for the second load.”

  In silence, they returned to the raft. Matthias laid Caroline down on the planks, using his coat to cushion her head. They poled back to the mill.

  “Why don’t you take her to my house?” Jacob suggested as they loaded the raft. “She’d be better off in a bed than being hauled about all night.”

  Matthias shook his head. “I won’t leave her alone.”

  “Then stay with her. I can take this load to the cabin. And I’ll guard it ’til the partisans come tomorrow to pick it up.”

  Matthias swallowed hard. Spend the night alone with her? He’d certainly be able to protect her.

  But who would protect her from him?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Caroline’s eyes slowly focused. Sunlight gleamed off a pile of metal parts heaped on a table. She blinked. Where was she? This didn’t look like her room in the Great House. She breathed in the fresh, clean scent of her pillowcase. It certainly wasn’t the ferryman’s filthy cabin.

  She sat up and quickly lowered her feet to the floor.

  “Aah!” Something jerked beneath her feet.

  “Aah!” She responded with a gasp of her own and leaned back onto the bed, tucking her feet up beside her. She squinted at the moaning man. “Thomas?”

  He lay on the floor beside the bed, his knees drawn up, his face red. A hissing sound emerged from his gritted teeth. “God . . . bless . . . America.”

  “Are you’re injured?”

  “Bloody . . . hell, woman. You stepped on me.”

  “I—” Caroline noted his hands cupping his groin. “I suppose that hurts?”

  The look he gave her indicated she had uttered a gross understatement.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there. Why are you there? Where are we?”

  “Jacob’s house. My bedchamber.” Thomas rolled onto his side. “Dammit. You practically stood on me.”

  “I said I was—” She eyed his hands at his crotch. “Must you touch yourself there? It is very distracting.”

  He moved his hands, glaring at her. “Then you touch me. I want to know if the parts are still working.”

  She scoffed. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”

  “I was protecting you.” He sat up, wincing.

  “And why was I sleeping in your bed?” Caroline grimaced, realizing the sun had been up for some time. “Ginny will be worried sick.”

  “You didn’t tell her about last night’s mission?”

  “No, I thought that was a major point to being a spy—keeping things secret.”

  “You’re right.” He eased to his feet.

  She noted his feet were bare. And so were hers. His shirt was neither buttoned nor tucked in. His hair was loose about his shoulders.

  He picked up his blanket and pillow from the floor and tossed them on the bed. “What will you tell your sister?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to say I . . . spent the night with you.” Warmth spread across her cheeks.

  “That’s probably for the best. ’Tis true, after all, and you’re not a very good liar.”

  Splendid. Ginny would think she was having an affair. “Are my shoes here somewhere?”

  “Underneath the bed. I removed them so you would be more comfortable.”

  She glanced up at him and found him staring at her. “And my stockings?”

  “I removed them so you would be more comfortable.”

  “Then . . . you must have untied the garters?” On her thighs. Her face blazed hotter.

  “They were too tight. I wanted to make you—”

  “More comfortable?” she finished his sentence.

  “Yes.”

  Thank goodness she hadn’t worn panniers or he would have continued his quest for comfort up to her waist. Was it her imagination or was the blue in his eyes more intense than usual? “And the laces on my gown?”

  “I loosened them so you could breathe easier.”

  “I see. How thoughtful of you.”

  “It was the least I could do.” He shrugged one shoulder. “The point may be moot, since we don’t intend to use the equipment, but in case you’re interested—” He leaned toward her.

  “Yes?”

  “My male parts are still working. Perfectly.”

  “Oh.” Caroline sat still, stunned for a moment, then jumped to her feet. “Well, I should be going now.” She located her shoes with her stockings tucked neatly inside. “Is Jacob here?”

  “No. He stayed at the ferryman’s cabin to guard the supplies.”

  “Oh.” So she was alone with Thomas and his perfectly working male parts. She unrolled a stocking and motioned to the door by tilting her head. “Do you mind?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You need help?”

  “No, I want you to leave.”

  “Oh.” He grabbed his shoes and stockings and padded to the door.

  Caroline noticed the weapons by the door. “Are these crossbows?”

  “Yes, mechanical ones that Jacob designed.” Thomas paused at the door. “If you need me, I’ll be close by.” He exited, shutting the door behind him.

  She dashed to the chamber pot in the corner, then quickly pulled on her stockings and shoes. But what about her laces? She couldn’t go back to the Great House with the laces to her gown loose. As much as she hated to admit it, she would need Thomas’s help.

  She slipped into the parlor just as he entered the back door with a pitcher.

  “I brought you some water.” He poured it into a crockery bowl.

  “Thank you.” She washed her f
ace and hands while he put on his stockings. “Could you . . . lace up my gown for me?”

  “Of course.” He circled behind her.

  He tugged at the laces, and she clutched the edge of the table to keep from stumbling. Every touch of his fingers melted her resolve to avoid further involvement with him. How could she work alongside him when all her senses yearned for him?

  His fingers grazed her spine as he tied a bow. “There, you’re done.”

  No, she was undone. She eased away from him. “I need to go. Good night. I mean, good morning.”

  “I’ll walk with you.” He jammed his feet into his shoes. “I want to see if the supply barge has gone.”

  “All right.” She wandered toward the door. “I—I don’t remember very much from last night. I was trying not to swallow any of the rum, but I suppose I did.”

  “Aye.” Thomas tied his hair back with a ribbon. “You passed out at the ferryman’s cabin. We brought you back here.” He strode toward her, pulling on his coat.

  They strolled along the river path. Clouds gathered thick overhead, blocking out the sun. A breeze rippled the surface of the river. She wondered if it was going to rain.

  “Do you wish me to bring you a meal at noon?”

  He smiled. “Thank you, but no. I need to meet up with the partisans to tell them where to pick up the supplies we stole. Jacob will be stuck there until they do.”

  “I’m glad you’re his friend. He seems so lonesome.”

  Thomas’s smile faded. “We have much in common. Caroline, if you ever need your father, you can find him at Snow’s Island, where Lynches River joins the Great Pee Dee.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  “This way.” Thomas led her to the grove of loblolly pines. Situated on a knoll, the pines offered them cover and an excellent view of the river and front lawn.

  He pulled down a low branch and peered through a window of fragrant short needles. “The barge is gone.”

  “Good. Then they never noticed anything was amiss.” She scanned the ground, looking for Edward’s hiding place.

  “What are you looking for?” Thomas asked.

  “Our musket and horn of gunpowder.” She brushed a pile of needles aside ’til her fingers grazed the cold metal of the barrel. “ ’Tis still here, in case you ever need one.”