His thoughts became a jumble of the serious conversations, heated arguments, and intense planning that had been his life for the past few days. Slowly his eyelids became heavier and heavier, and sleep finally overtook him.
Noting his deep, even breathing, Emily glanced across at Jonathon. His head lay forward on his chest and swayed with the motion of the coach. Emily took her silk shawl and folded it into a small pillow. Propping it against the sidewall of the coach by the top of the seat, she gently nudged a groggy Jonathon until his head rested comfortably against it. He stretched his legs out across the coach and fell into a deep sleep.
Nearing Williamsburg, Emily became anxious. Granted, their last visit to the Cosgroves’ had been most pleasant, but the circumstances had been quite different. Jonathon said they were loyalists, so perhaps they would welcome her sympathetic company. She certainly would welcome theirs.
“Jonathon,” she called softly. “Jonathon.”
He was still sleeping soundly, so she carefully rose and crossed to his seat. Swaying with the movement of the carriage, she looked down at his face. How she longed to bend and kiss him awake and be wrapped in his strong arms. She slowly reached out her hand and brushed a lock of hair from his brow. Instantly he jerked up, grabbed his pistol and pointed it at her. She had fallen back into her seat and stared at him with wide, terrified eyes.
“Will you kill me, too?” she whispered, trying to still her trembling.
Fully awake, finally, Jonathon slowly put away his pistol.
“I am sorry, Emily. I was dreaming.”
“Has it been that bad?” she asked.
Jonathon gazed out the window for a moment.
“People should do whatever possible to avoid war,” he said quietly.
They rode in silence through the countryside surrounding Williamsburg.
Chapter 9
The Cosgroves were as warm and welcoming as the first time Jonathon and Emily had stayed as houseguests. Martha fussed over Emily and kept glancing at her trim figure in disappointment. She did not say anything, but Emily was disconcerted by it and realized that if things continued as they were between her and Jonathon, she would have this shapely figure for a long time.
They had a glass of wine before supper and then sat down to a delicious meal of broiled sturgeon, potato balls, and macaroons with cream. Emily began to relax as she realized that conversation would not turn to politics. Even Jonathon seemed more at ease than he had been since his return. He was attentive to Emily, and she responded in kind, remembering his warning as the coach pulled up to the house. “Now remember, Emily, these people know nothing of our — marital difficulties. They are lifelong friends, and I do not want to bring them into this or make them suffer as a result of it. They share your loyalist sympathies, so it is the most comfortable place I can find for you at the moment. Please respect my wishes and act the loving wife.”
Emily was thankful to Jonathon for understanding her need for sympathetic company in these difficult times. She looked across the table at him and smiled. He attempted to hide a look of surprise and smiled back. After dining they played cards, but Martha noticed Jonathon discreetly stifling his yawns and suggested retiring early.
As before, Martha showed them to their room, only this time there was only one room for the two of them. Emily began to protest, but Jonathon silenced her with a look. They bade Martha good night, went into their room, and closed the door.
“Jonathon,” Emily hissed between clenched teeth, “you did not tell me about this!”
Jonathon began to undress nonchalantly. “What did you expect? I told you they were expecting a newly married couple. Of course they would provide only one room.”
“You could have said you snore too loudly — ”
“Or that you do,” he replied lazily.
“Or something,” she snapped.
“So that performance at supper was only for the sake of our hosts?” he asked.
“That is what you asked for, a sweet and loving wife. And that is what I shall be when they are present.” She looked at the four-poster bed, its crisp sheets folded back invitingly. “Oh, this will never work out.”
“Oh, I see endless possibilities,” Jonathon murmured.
“You are impossible,” Emily said turning to look at him. He stood before her naked, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh!” she stamped her foot and turned around.
“Are you coming to bed?” Jonathon asked climbing between the sheets.
Emily began to unfasten her gown as she blew all the candles out except a single one by the bed. Standing in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, she slipped out of her clothes and into her nightgown.
“Do not try to hide that beautiful figure from me, Em, for I have every curve, every detail etched in my mind.”
“Stop it, Jonathon,” she scolded.
Carefully climbing into bed, she lay on her side as close to the edge as she could. Jonathon chuckled in the darkness.
Emily lay awake a long time and listened to his even breathing. When she was sure he was asleep, she finally began to relax and allow her eyes to close and sleep to overtake her.
• • •
In the early morning hours when the birds were just beginning to stir and the sun glowed just beneath the eastern horizon, Emily came awake slowly. She felt warm, safe and secure, as she snuggled into the warmth of Jonathon. Slowly rising to consciousness, she realized she lay against him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. Not wanting to wake him lest he discover her nearness, she gently began to move away. His arm tightened around her.
“Do not leave, Em. It feels so good to have you here again.”
“How long have I been like this?” she asked.
“Most of the night.”
They lay in silence for a while watching the eastern sky lighten to a rosy pink. Jonathon’s hand slowly caressed Emily’s arm. Finally he spoke.
“It was never my intent to humiliate you, Em. I still do not understand how I did, but it matters not if I understand, only that you were hurt. I am sorry. Will you forgive me?”
Emily rose up on one elbow and looked down at him. “I am sorry, too, for acting like a child. Please forgive me?”
He looked up at her lovely face, her hair cascading like a curtain to his chest. He saw her tears brimming, and when she blinked, one escaped to run quietly down her cheek. He reached up and brushed it away.
“How we can hurt each other when we love each other so much,” he whispered, as if to himself.
Emily nodded.
He drew her down against him and their lips met softly. Jonathon wrapped his arms around her, and Emily’s arms encircled his neck as he eased her back on the pillows. His mouth moved over hers slowly and his hand reached down to untie her gown. As it opened he slipped it off her shoulders and caressed her silken back. He raised his head and looked into her shining blue eyes. She smiled at him and, sitting up, slipped off her gown. Climbing back under the covers, Emily snuggled against him and pressed her hips against his. He kissed her again, his tongue probing deeply the sweetness of her mouth. She responded eagerly and pulled him closer. His hand slipped to her full, rounded breasts, cupping them, teasing the nipples, and softly tracing their curves. Then his mouth followed down her throat, across her shoulders, down to her velvety soft skin. Emily shivered in delight as his tongue aroused and warmed her with its fire. Her hands rubbed gently through the soft hair on his chest and slowly ran down to tantalize and excite him. Jonathon moved back up to kiss her and she felt the firm manliness of him. He moaned with delight, and their hands explored and touched bringing them both to the edge.
Jonathon rose above her and gently entered her. Emily trembled as she felt him throb within her. They moved together in a rhythm of longing and delight. Finally, Jonathon began to thrust w
ithin her and Emily cried out in ecstasy. She pulled him closer, and her breath sounded in his ear. She clung to him as he nuzzled into her and closed her eyes against the waves of unbearable pleasure. At last they lay spent in each other’s arms. The sun spilled across them in a soft, rosy glow.
Jonathon rolled onto his back and cradled Emily in his arm. She ran a finger across his lips, over his chin, down his throat and rested it on his chest.
“I love you, Jonathon,” she whispered. “I am sorry that I hurt you.”
“These are terrible times, Em. Many people are hurting those they love.” He smoothed her hair. “I love you so, Em.” He held her closer. They lay in the afterglow of passion that only true forgiveness and healing brings. They lay together for a long time.
• • •
Their stay at the Cosgroves’ was enjoyable, and Martha was pleased to note their eagerness to retire in the evenings. James thought she was exaggerating, but she said with a twinkle in her eye, “A woman knows these things.” As he watched them exchange glances one evening, he had to admit that she was right.
They played cards well into the night, and as they were about to retire, they heard a knock at the front door. They were all surprised, for the hour was late. Their servant ushered in Mr. Gates.
“Mr. Gates, how wonderful to see you,” Emily exclaimed as he bent over her hand.
“Good evening, Mrs. Brentwood.”
Jonathon introduced him to the Cosgroves and seemed to note Gates’s agitation. James poured wine for everyone, and they sat down.
“I am afraid I have bad news, Captain,” Mr. Gates began. “The King has declared the colonies to be in a state of rebellion. He has ordered suppression of the resistance.”
The room was hushed as each one attempted to digest this news. Emily clutched Jonathon’s hand. No one spoke for a full minute, the silence broken only by the ominous ticking of the parlor clock. Mr. Gates cleared his throat.
“Shall we sail as scheduled, sir?”
“I will make inquiries tomorrow, Gates. I shall be out to the ship by afternoon.”
Mr. Gates rose. “Aye, sir. I am sorry to bring such terrible news to you.” He bowed and left.
• • •
Emily had been quiet after Mr. Gates left, and she was quiet still as she brushed her hair before the mirror. The pink gown she wore fell in delicate folds around her, enhancing her curves and gracefully floating around her as she moved. Jonathon stood behind her and bent to place a kiss on the back of her neck.
“Jonathon,” she said. The tone of her voice made him stop. He looked up at her reflection in the mirror and saw the confusion and anger in her eyes.
“Yes, love?”
“Will you continue to sail for the colonies?”
“Yes, love.”
She turned around in the chair and looked up at him. “Please do not,” she pleaded.
“I must, Em.”
“Then you will fight against the King, against England?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered softly.
“Jonathon, please — ”
“Emily, do you not understand what we have endured here? Parliament does not even consider us Britons anymore.”
“Nor do you!” she cried.
Jonathon was stunned as the realization hit him. “No, I suppose I do not.”
“Jonathon, what if it were reversed? What if you were forced to leave your lifelong home and sail across an ocean to England? And once there, what if everyone around you spoke of Virginia in the most derogatory ways and of Virginians as the enemy? What would you do? England is my home — ”
“No, Emily, not anymore!” he shouted.
“Always, until a year ago, Jonathon. It was all I ever knew. I want to go back.”
Silence fell between them. Jonathon turned away and walked to the window. He leaned a forearm against the frame and stared out at the blackness.
“Please, Jonathon. I asked if you would continue to sail for the colonies, and you said you must. To you it is patriotism; to me it is treason. Just as you must sail, I must return to England. I must,” she finished.
“You think I am a traitor?” he demanded.
“Yes!” she sobbed.
Jonathon’s eyes blazed into hers. “Then allow me to remove myself from your company.” He grabbed his coat and slammed his tricorn on his head.
“I sail tomorrow. I do not know when I shall return,” he stated as he opened the door. He turned to look at her then slammed the door behind himself.
Emily sank down to the bed and stared ahead at nothing, drained and angry. Life had been tumultuous over the last year and she did not know how much more she could bear. She climbed into the empty bed, strangely cold in the August night, and longed for the warmth of Jonathon’s arms. Jonathon’s treasonous arms.
• • •
The next day Emily received a curt note in Jonathon’s neat handwriting:
Emily,
Set sail today. Will return in a fortnight.
Jonathon
On reading it, she crumpled the note into a ball and threw it into the cold hearth as she swallowed down the lump in her throat.
She and Jonathon were to visit Andrew today at William and Mary College. They had seen him quite often since arriving in Williamsburg, and Emily realized how much she had missed him at Brentwood Manor. She decided to ask Martha to accompany her there, for she could not bear to stay in the house all day long. She went to find her friend.
Martha saw at once that something was amiss with Emily.
“What is it, dear?” she asked.
“I just received word that Jonathon is sailing today. He will be gone a fortnight,” she replied.
Martha would have accepted that as the entire answer if she had not heard Jonathon slam out the door last night and seen Emily’s tired and drawn face this morning.
“It must be terribly difficult for you both,” she said gently, urging Emily to confide in her.
“Yes, it is.”
Martha was disappointed that the girl said no more.
“Martha, would you accompany me to visit Andrew today?” she asked.
“Oh, that sounds lovely. Let me fetch my bonnet.”
The air crackled with tense excitement as they drove along Duke of Gloucester Street to the school. People were reading posters about the King’s declaration and talking animatedly in groups and pairs in front of the shops. Murmurs and cautious looks filled the streets as mistrust lodged deep within people’s hearts and began to take root, dividing the loyalties of lifelong friends.
Emily was oblivious to the atmosphere, for her mind was filled with confusion and anger. She would return to England as soon as possible for she could not remain in these seditious colonies.
The carriage halted before the stately Wren Building where Andrew had been waiting for them as previously arranged. He hurried over to help the ladies alight.
“Have you heard the news of the King’s declaration?” he asked excitedly.
“Yes, Andrew, and we have much to discuss,” Emily replied.
They strolled to a bench beneath a shady oak tree and sat down.
“I have decided that we will return to England,” Emily stated. Andrew and Martha looked at her in surprise.
“What does Jonathon say to that?” Andrew asked.
“Jonathon and I are on opposite sides in this issue, Drew. I believe he will agree to take us there. I have already told him of my desire to return, and you, naturally, will too.”
“I will not.”
Emily stared at her brother in stunned silence. She began to speak as if to a child.
“Andrew, you do understand what is occurring, do you not? The King has said that the colonies are in a state of rebellion. Th
at their actions are treasonous.”
“Emily, do not treat me like a child. I understand perfectly what is going on. The colonies want their independence. I believe they should have it. Britain has not been fair at all in her treatment of Virginia, nor of any of the other colonies. Many of my friends here are carrying a heavy burden of debt to London creditors; some were forced to discontinue their studies for lack of funds. Some are in danger of losing their lands and homes. Britain has strangled trade and dealt in mercantilism. These are a proud people, Em. This is an exciting time, and I intend to be part of it.”
“Then you will fight for the colonies?” she gasped.
“I shall fight for no one. I shall observe, I shall learn. But I shall cheer for them, yes.”
“Andrew, I cannot believe this of you.”
He took his sister’s hand in his.
“This is a troubling time, Em, but an exciting one. If you feel you must return to England, so be it. But Jonathon and I must do what we believe, also.”
• • •
Emily was shaken by her visit with Andrew. It was inconceivable that he could support a cause that was, to her, so wrong. She took comfort in the sympathy that James and Martha Cosgrove showed her. They agreed with her assessment of the situation and had decided to join her on her voyage to England.
Leaving the colonies couldn’t happen soon enough for Emily. Tension mounted throughout the fall. Although Virginia did not see the battles that were waging in the northern colonies, Lord Dunmore was increasingly infuriating the local patriots. He ordered printing presses to be confiscated and in October ordered the seizure of all ships off Hampton and the burning of the town. The militia drove the British off, but tempers were flaring and loyalists and patriots were squaring off to fight.
Emily was preoccupied with concern for Jonathon. He was to have returned from his trip a month ago and she had heard nothing from him. The news of the attack on Hampton frightened her, and she feared for his safety.
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