Freedom's Light

by Colleen Coble

  Birch dropped into the chair closest to Hannah. Galen sat opposite him with Lydia beside him. Lydia leaned closer to him than propriety allowed, but Galen stared intently at Hannah and spared not a glance for her sister. Birch felt his hackles rise even more at the gleam in Galen’s eyes when he stared at Hannah.

  “I was on my way to visit you both when I saw your lighthouse being fired upon,” Galen said. “Luckily I was there, for they would surely have destroyed it.”

  “I thought that was our goal,” Birch said. “The last I heard, Howe wanted to take out all the lighthouses.”

  Galen smiled. “Any other lighthouse but this one. I would not let my dear friends suffer in that way. I outranked the commander of the other ship and ordered him away.” He glanced again at Hannah as though to see if she was impressed by his statement of rank.

  Birch didn’t believe the other man for a moment. The way he refused to look a man in the eye did not bode well for his integrity. “A fortuitous happenstance,” he observed dryly.

  “Quite,” Galen said. “How are you, Hannah? It has been over a year since we last met.”

  Hannah blanched, and her hands shook even more. “Fi-fine,” she stuttered. How could Galen be unaware of her agitation? Birch frowned. He would like to throw the man out on his ear.

  Galen seemed to like the effect he had on Hannah, for his grin broadened. “You look much the same, Hannah. Mayhap more beautiful, if that is possible. I have not been home these past nine months myself. How fare your parents?”

  “She would not know,” Lydia put in with a toss of her golden head. “She has not been back to South Carolina since she married John.”

  “Ah yes. John. How is your husband?” A knowing smirk played around Galen’s mouth.

  Hannah bit her lip. “He was hanged several months ago. I am a widow now.”

  Galen’s eyes brightened. “I am sorry to hear these sad tidings.”

  Lydia laid a hand on his arm and pouted. “Enough talk of depressing things. Tell me how the war goes. Are the Yankees ready to surrender yet?”

  “Soon.” Galen inclined his head. “We hear they are nearly out of ammunition, their troops wear rags, and many have no shoes. With winter approaching, many of Washington’s troops will desert and return home.”

  “I think not! You have not yet tested our mettle.” Hannah flushed when they all stared at her.

  Glad she seemed to have recovered her fire, Birch decided to stir it a bit. “Washington seems to be a bit inept at this war game.”

  She banged the teapot onto the table. “We are not beaten yet, and by God’s grace, we will drive the British back across the seas.”

  Galen laughed. “You always were a dreamer, Hannah. It was one of your many charms.”

  “Why are you here, Galen?” Her green eyes had finally lost their haunted look, and anger took its place.

  “To see you and Lydia, of course.”

  “I thank you most kindly for your intervention, but I must tell you that I have not changed my opinion of you since we last met. I must ask you to leave when you have finished your tea.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

  “Hannah!” Lydia gasped. “You must not treat our friend in so cavalier a fashion.”

  “He is not my friend, Lydia. Nor is he yours, if you but knew.”

  Galen glowered, then his face cleared and he laughed. “I always did admire your spirit, Hannah.” He stood and bowed to her. Clapping his tricorn hat back on his head, he stepped closer to her and touched his fingers to Hannah’s chin. “I’ll be back. You can count on that.”

  She flinched as though the touch burned her, but Galen did not release her chin until her eyes met his. Then he smiled and turned away.

  Lydia glared at her sister and hurried to see Galen out. She exited with him, and Hannah let out a long sigh.

  “I think there is some mystery here, Mistress Hannah.” Birch tendered a sad smile.

  She flicked her green gaze over him and shuddered. “I cannot speak of it, Captain.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  “Do you?” She studied him a moment, then turned away to clear the cups and saucers from the table.

  “Lydia seems quite taken with him.”

  Hannah nodded. “It was ever so. I fear for my sister. She rushes headlong into danger and cares not for the consequences.”

  The front door slammed, and Lydia rushed through the room and up the stairs. Her face was scarlet from weeping. She glared at her sister as she passed, then the bedroom door upstairs slammed shut and the sound of bitter weeping echoed down the steps.

  Birch exchanged a long look with Hannah. He didn’t envy her the task of dealing with Lydia. That girl would bring nothing but trouble to Hannah.

  CHAPTER 8

  Lydia threw her cloak around her shoulders and tiptoed out of the house. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mouth was dry from the storm of weeping she’d given into earlier. Her hopelessness was over now, and she would change the course of her own fate. If Hannah caught her, all would be lost. Tonight was her only chance to make Galen see that she was the one for him, not her sister. The warm gazes he cast over Hannah had burned Lydia like gall.

  As for Hannah, how could she treat him in such a fashion? Galen was a hero. He faced danger every day to safeguard the colonial ties with England. And he had saved the lighthouse! Surely that should account for something to Hannah. But it hadn’t seemed to soften her attitude at all. She’d seemed almost frightened of him until she turned like a rabid dog and practically bit him.

  Lydia just didn’t understand her sister. And she probably never would. England was their heritage. Their allegiance should be to them. Just as Galen’s should be to her. Lydia was the only one who could ever love him as he deserved to be loved.

  Galen had said he would be at the Lion’s Paw tonight before rowing back to his ship in the morning. Lydia set out along the path to town at a brisk pace. The moonlight illuminated the pathway, but the night sounds around her were unsettling. She’d never been out so late before. What if she met soldiers or thieves? She wished she could have hitched the mare to the buggy, but she didn’t dare make more noise. Hannah would be up several times cleaning the lighthouse lanterns and trimming the wicks. And Birch was a light sleeper.

  The fear dissipated as she thought of her quest, and she smiled. Galen would be surprised to see her. She hadn’t had a chance to tell him of her activities on behalf of England. Did he know Major Montgomery? She would have to ask him.

  Her quick pace ate up the distance to town, and she was on the outskirts of the village within half an hour. The lights still spilled from the windows of the Lion’s Paw, and she heard guffaws and voices raised in merriment from the open doorway. She hoped Galen had not retired for the night. It would be embarrassing to have to awaken him. But she was determined to see him, no matter what.

  Lydia patted her hair to make sure it hadn’t come loose in her walk and straightened her shoulders. Her mother had always told her the way she carried herself would determine how others treated her. Act confident and in charge, and people would defer to her. Her head high, she walked through the front door of the Lion’s Paw.

  The place was full, even though it must be nearly midnight. Smoke and the yeasty odor of beer hung in the air. Several men at the table in the corner peered intently at the cards in their hands while another group joked with two of the serving maids on the other side of the room. Two men at the nearest table stared at her, then one made a comment to the other, and they both burst into rude laughter. She blushed with mortification. She hadn’t thought about others seeing her here.

  She raised her nose in the air and ignored their leers. A broad-shouldered man in the back corner let out a chuckle, and she turned at the familiar sound. She felt faint at the sight of Galen with a woman in his lap. The woman’s coarse laughter, naked shoulders, and nearly naked bosom told her occupation.

  Lydia gritted her teeth and march
ed to the table. She had expected better of him. But she comforted herself with the thought that he had no idea she would welcome his attentions. That she would sacrifice her reputation for him. He would soon send the wench on her way when he knew she was here to offer her love and devotion to him.

  “Give us a kiss, Mattie,” Galen said coaxingly.

  “Lieutenant, you have stolen more kisses now than ya deserve. I’ll have to see some copper before ya get anything more.” The woman laughed again.

  Lydia winced at the piercing quality of the woman’s voice and glared at her. Galen need not lower himself to consort with a woman like that. She cleared her throat, and the woman saw her.

  Eyes narrowed, she snaked a plump arm around Galen’s neck and stared at Lydia. “I was here first. Find your own bloke.”

  Galen’s head swiveled at the exchange. He gave Lydia a slow smile. “Run along, Mattie.” He shoved her off his lap and stood.

  The woman landed on her backside on the dirty floor and screeched at him. She swore and then scrambled to her feet and stomped off with an angry glare at Lydia.

  He glanced at his two companions, both dressed in British uniforms. “Excuse me, gentlemen. The lady and I need to have some privacy.”

  The men leered at Lydia as they stood. “You have all the good fortune, Galen. Have fun.” The tall, thin man closest to Galen clapped him on the back, then they both sauntered away.

  Lydia shuddered at their lewd glances but refused to let any of her discomfort show on her face. Galen must not know she was fearful or uncertain about the course of action she’d chosen this night. She would stake her claim tonight, and Galen would be hers forevermore.

  “Sit.” He indicated the recently vacated chair closest to him.

  She waited until he realized she expected him to pull out the chair. With a wry grin, he pulled it out and seated her at the table. The room seemed over warm, and she fidgeted in her chair. Licking her lips nervously, she waited for him to be seated. She’d carefully rehearsed what she wanted to say and just wanted to get it said before she lost her nerve.

  He sat in his chair and lit a cheroot. “What are you doing here, Lydia? Does Hannah know where you are?”

  “What do you think?” She smiled so her dimples would show, and the admiration on his face deepened. Relieved at his response, she leaned forward and slid her hand across the table.

  He raised an eyebrow but closed his fingers around hers. His smile widened. “I think you snuck out of the house, and if Hannah finds out you have come to a tavern, she will take a switch to you.” He shook his head. “I have never met a woman with more courage than this, Lydia. It must be something very important to bring you down a dark road at midnight.”

  Lydia’s heart thrilled at his words. He admired her courage. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “It was very important,” she said softly. “And for your ears alone.”

  Galen glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Can you tell me here?”

  She took her courage in both hands. “Can we go somewhere more private? I have news for Major Montgomery.” That should pique his interest enough to take her to his room.

  His eyes narrowed. “Montgomery?”

  “He enlisted my help, and I have information he should know.” She glanced around the room again. It would never do for them to be overheard. If word got back to Hannah, her sister would ship her home at once. Coming here was bad enough. If it became known she was a spy, she could hang, in spite of her sex.

  He stared at her with a brow raised. “I have a room for the night.”

  Though her mouth was dry, she managed to get the words out. “I think it would be best to discuss this matter there.”

  He said nothing for a long moment, but a slow smile tilted his lips. Then his chair scraped on the floor, and he stood and offered her his arm.

  What was she doing? She should run for the door as fast as she was able, but instead she smiled up at Galen and took his arm. As he escorted her down the dingy hallway to the bedchamber, her heart hammered in her ears so loudly she would not have been able to hear him if he spoke.

  His accommodations consisted of a tiny room not much larger than a closet with a cracked bowl and pitcher on a table near the door and a small bed with linen that looked none too clean. She looked around and took off her cloak.

  Galen’s gaze skimmed her figure, and admiration glowed in his eyes. Good. She would make him forget all about Hannah. She would be a good wife to him. She’d always known they belonged together. She knew him better than anyone. She’d studied everything about him. Back home, she had pestered his younger sisters with questions, practiced making all his favorite foods, and cultivated ties with his cousins and friends.

  “What is this about Major Montgomery?” Galen crossed his arms over his chest.

  She lifted her head and smiled into his eyes. “Hugh enlisted my aid in keeping an eye on the lighthouse and Hannah.”

  His eyes dilated at the use of the major’s first name. Was that jealousy burning in his gaze?

  He stared at her. “You are spying for the British? What joke is this?”

  “No joke, Galen. I have important information for Hugh. Can you carry it to him?”

  A grudging admiration crept into his eyes, and he nodded. “Even now, he marches the men toward New York. Tell me your information, and I will make sure he hears it directly from me.”

  “Tell him the village plans to throw up an earthen dam as soon as they can muster enough men. If he intends to destroy the lighthouse, he must move quickly.” She smiled. “Perhaps you had best not tell him that you drove off a ship trying to do just that. There’s also a man in the village, Abraham Nettles, who is betraying all of you with information to the colonists. He appears to be a Tory, but he’s not.”

  His cheeks reddened. “You would betray your sister?”

  There was no condemnation in his tone, just curiosity and a touch of respect. Still, his use of the word betray stung a bit. She turned away and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hugh has assured me she shall not be hurt. I wish she would see the error of her folly in supporting the revolution, but she persists in her loyalty to the traitors.”

  “I cannot think where she got those views, unless from her husband. She has always seemed an amenable lady. Now she is much too independent.” He frowned and stepped closer to Lydia. “She even performs a man’s job at the lighthouse.” The lines of disapproval deepened around his mouth.

  She thrilled at the anger in his voice. Even now, he had seen the error of holding Hannah in too great an esteem. Maybe this would be easier than she had first suspected. “I didn’t know John well, but I do not think theirs was a love match. Still, Massachusetts is a hotbed of independency, and my sister is too easily swayed.” She dropped her gaze at the lie.

  He wrapped one of her curls around his finger. “I think that is not the real reason you are here, sweet Lydia. That message could have been conveyed to one of my men. Hannah’s lighthouse is not of great import.” His warm fingers touched her chin and raised her gaze to meet his.

  Her heart hammered in her throat and an inner voice screamed for her to leave before it was too late, but she pushed it away. She wouldn’t go back without what she’d come for. She smiled and took his hand. “What do you think, Galen?”

  Moments later his lips met hers, and she had all she wanted within her grasp.

  Hours later that voice of conscience had been totally silenced. Sitting beside Galen as the buggy jounced over the potholes, she felt a sense of accomplishment. He was hers now. She had given him everything—everything important. He would never yearn after Hannah again. The moon had set, and dawn would be here soon. She was new, reborn as the woman Galen loved.

  Galen kissed her one last time and helped her down from the buggy. The lighthouse still beamed, but the house was dark. Maybe she would escape detection yet. She had feared Hannah would be awake and demand to know where she had been.

  Clinging to Galen
, she wound her fingers through his rough blond hair. “When will I see you again?” She couldn’t bear to let him go. She could smell his hair pomade on her skin, in her pores. She was part of him, and he was part of her, just as it was meant to be. Would Hannah see the difference in her?

  He held her close. “I will be in touch, sweet Lydia. But I’ll write when I get to New York. I might be moving from place to place, but I will send for you soon. In the meantime, you must watch Hannah and report any news to Major Montgomery.”

  She bit her lip and forced back the tears. Galen admired courage not weakness. “As you say, Galen.”

  He kissed her again. “Tell no one of our love, Lydia, not even Major Montgomery. He is a hard man, and if needed, you can use your beauty to convince him to show favor to me. If he knows of our love, he might not be so amenable.”

  She swelled with pride that he showed his vulnerability to her. He needed her. It was a heady thought. She kissed him lingeringly, then he thrust her away. Tears filled her eyes at his abrupt movement, but she understood. He was moved himself and thought he might show a womanly emotion.

  “You must depart, or we will be discovered.”

  Lydia nodded and sniffed back her tears. “Take my love with you, Galen. I shall pray for you daily.” She buried the sense of shame the thought of God brought to her. God would understand the necessity of giving herself to Galen. He would understand her great love for him. Society may frown on what she had done, but surely God would understand.

  He vaulted back into the seat of the buggy. “Good morrow, my sweet. I must be off. We weigh anchor at dawn.” A smile tilted the corners of his lips, and he touched his cocked hat and flicked the whip over the horse’s head.

  She watched him go with burning eyes, then turned and slipped into the house.

  Galen gathered his cloak about him, but it did little to ward off the spray from the waves. Planting his feet against the rolling of the sea, he gazed back toward Gurnet Point. The lights from the towers still shone. Was Hannah in one of the light towers looking out toward him?