The Traitor's Club: Caleb

by Landon, Laura

  Caleb was at a loss. The only action he wanted to take was completely unacceptable. And yet . . .

  He wrapped his arm around Eleanor’s shoulders and brought her close. She didn’t pull away but leaned into him. He kept one arm around her while he rested his other hand atop hers over the babe. And he let her cry.

  The carriage pulled beneath the broad portico of Southern Oaks, and Caleb leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Stay here. I’ll take the children inside and come back for you.”

  Carruthers stood close by as Caleb lifted the children out. “Have someone come for the children, then send Jenny down. Lady Eleanor needs her.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Caleb took the children inside, then returned for Eleanor. He lifted her from the carriage and ushered her into the house. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her knees trembled with each step she took. Caleb led her to a chair in one of the receiving rooms, then stood at her side until Jenny came.

  Eleanor slowly rose to her feet and held out the bundle for Jenny to take. “Her name is Ruth,” she said as tears ran down her face.

  “Ah, poor wee little Ruth. Poor little angel,” Jenny said, then turned and left the room.

  Eleanor watched until the door closed behind Jenny, then she turned to face Caleb. “This isn’t the first babe who didn’t survive,” she said softly, lowering her gaze. “You would think it wouldn’t destroy me so, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to losing one of them.”

  “I hope not,” he answered.

  She lifted her head to look at him, and fresh tears streamed down her face.

  In that instant, the distance between them seemed grievously wrong. His feet carried him toward her as if they had a will of their own. He tried to keep from reaching out to her, but his arms sought her as if he would perish if he couldn’t hold her. He tried to keep from pulling her into his arms, but the attraction he felt toward her was too powerful to resist.

  He held her as if she were meant to be in his arms. As if sheltering her was what he was meant to do.

  As if she felt the same, she clung to him and held tight.

  Caleb chastised himself for taking her wholly into his heart. But he had.

  And now, nothing would ever be the same.

  Chapter 7

  Eleanor lay awake all night wondering over the cause of her sleeplessness. Holding another lifeless babe in her arms had brought back a painful time in her life. Was that it? Or was it that being held by Captain Caleb Parker had brought to life feelings she’d thought were long dead?

  She thought it might be both.

  She rebuked herself for what she’d allowed the night before. She couldn’t open herself to the emotions that being held in a man’s arms stirred. She could never allow a man to care for her. Or allow herself to care for any man ever again. Especially a man like Caleb Parker. She saw the way he responded to the children. And in that regard she could offer him nothing. Especially the one thing every man expected from his wife—an heir. Someone to carry his name into the future.

  Eleanor gave up on sleep and rose from her bed. She had work that needed to be done, plus this was the first of the month, and Cook would have baskets ready for her to deliver to the tenant farmers. Southern Oaks couldn’t survive without the products raised and harvested by the farmers who lived on the estate. They raised the cattle, sheep, and hogs that provided the meat the children ate. They raised the crops and ran the dairy that added income for Southern Oaks. Barley was raised and sold to a local brewery. The money it brought in provided clothing and shoes for the children.

  The list of products and profits the tenant farmers provided was endless. And necessary. Fifty tiny hearts depended on it. Thrived because of it. The least Eleanor could do was to provide the tenants with baskets of jams and baked goods and a bit of coin as a thank you. Then, too, her monthly visits gave her the opportunity to see if the houses the tenant farmers and their families lived in needed repair, without them having to humble themselves and ask.

  Eleanor dressed and made her way down the stairs. Her breadbasket tour of the estate would allow her to avoid running into Captain Parker. She needed as much time as possible to recover from the emotions he had caused to come to life in the dark of a sorrowful night.

  Eleanor stepped into the breakfast room and locked gazes with the last man she wanted to see so early in the morning. His eyes were rife with compassion as he rose to greet her.

  “Good morning, Captain Parker,” she stammered, annoyed at her momentary loss of grip.

  He bowed formally. “Good morning, my lady.”

  She swept to the breakfront, which was laden with steaming food, and drew a few random items onto her plate.

  “Have you already eaten?”

  “No, my lady. I wanted to wait until I could speak with you.”

  Eleanor took her place at the table and tried to pretend that she didn’t know what he might wish to speak with her about.

  Her cheeks warmed. “Then please, join me.”

  A servant brought out another cup and saucer while the captain filled a plate. When he returned to the table, Eleanor dismissed the staff so that she and the captain were alone.

  “I owe you an apology, my lady,” he said. “I overstepped my bounds last night.”

  Eleanor looked into the captain’s handsome face. She remembered his strong arms wrapped around her and the heat of his body as he had held her. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “You displayed an honorable show of compassion. I am the one who should offer an apology. I seldom show such a lack of composure.”

  “Then we will forget the incident, and I give you my word that another such incident will never happen again.”

  “You have my word the matter is forgotten.”

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  She and the captain ate in silence until Carruthers entered the room.

  “The baskets are prepared, my lady,” he said from the doorway, “and so is the carriage. I’ll see that the supplies are loaded so you can leave whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thank you, Carruthers.”

  When the butler was gone, Captain Parker focused on her. “Is my lady traveling?”

  “Not traveling, Captain. I’m only taking foodstuffs to the tenant farmers, as I do the first of every month.”

  “Who is accompanying you?”

  Eleanor smiled. “No one, Captain. I enjoy driving by myself, and since I’m not leaving Southern Oaks, I don’t see the need to take anyone with me.”

  “That was before Virgil Blackboot became a threat.” The captain wore a frown that quite clearly expressed the fullness of his disapproval. “I will accompany you,” he said. “I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

  “Surely you don’t think—”

  “I will be ready when you are,” he repeated, then turned to the door.

  Eleanor watched his retreating back and knew that today would not be a day where she could forget the effect of the captain’s nearness. If anything, it would take all her self-control to ensure there wasn’t a repeat of what had happened last night.

  . . .

  Damn!

  That had to be the smallest pony cart he’d ever seen.

  Caleb had been certain that if he could only avoid Eleanor for the next few days, the desire he felt for her would lessen. But how could that happen when he had to sit next to her in the narrow pony cart?

  “How many tenant farmers will you visit today?” he asked when they were on their way. It was a struggle to keep his voice from sounding strangled, because with each rhythmic sway of the cart her hip and shoulder nudged into him, despite her iron grip on the bench.

  “Six. We’ll make a circle through Southern Oaks and drop off a basket of goods at each house. The first farm is ahead to your right.”

  What Caleb saw was a well-kept home with a man and woman in front. The man looked to be repairing a fence, and the woman tending a garden.

  “My lady,” the couple
greeted when Caleb stopped the cart in front of their door.

  “Elma. Ralph,” Lady Eleanor greeted.

  Two strapping young men who could almost be mistaken for twins stepped out from behind the house. They’d obviously been working on something strenuous, and wiped their brows with cloths they stuck back in their pockets.

  “My lady,” they greeted with winning smiles.

  “Tom. Jeremy. How is the new shed coming?”

  “We’re making progress. We’ll have the roof on before winter.”

  “That’s wonderful. It will be good to have someplace to put the new piglets so they don’t have to battle the weather.”

  “Yes,” the one who looked to be the older of the two brothers answered. “And the sows will appreciate being inside, too.”

  Lady Eleanor nodded, then turned to Caleb. “I’d like you to meet Captain Parker. He’s been helping out at Southern Oaks.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” Elma bobbed.

  Instead of speaking, Ralph Watkins stepped forward and saluted. “Sergeant Watkins, Captain. It’s an honor to see you again.”

  Caleb returned the sergeant’s salute, then smiled when he recognized the man. “It’s a pleasure to see you, Sergeant. Especially under safer conditions.”

  “Safe ye say? Wi’ them two wieldin’ hammers like they do?” Watkins laughed at his own joke. “But sir, now you’re here I have to ask about Lieutenant Danvers. Did he survive the trip home?”

  Caleb smiled. “I’m glad to say he did, Watkins. He married nearly a year ago, and he and his wife are expecting their first child.”

  “Oh, glory!” the sergeant said with a grin on his face. “I can’t tell you how often I thought of him. And said a prayer.”

  “He’ll appreciate hearing that.”

  Ralph Watkins turned to Lady Eleanor, and Caleb was afraid the sergeant was going to comment on one of the missions Caleb or one of the other spies in his clandestine group had carried out. He opened his mouth to stop him from saying anything complimentary. But not in time.

  “The captain here saved more lives than nearly any officer in the war. He’s a true hero, he is.”

  Caleb shook his head. “No more a hero than every other soldier who risked his life every day of the war.”

  “Why don’t I believe that?” Lady Eleanor said. There was a strange expression on her face that Caleb didn’t want to spend time evaluating.

  “Because the captain here is humble.”

  Ralph Watkins’ words hung in the air long after Lady Eleanor changed the subject. She’d seen Caleb’s discomfort, and she’d eased it. But once she had gifted the Watkins family with a basket and a few coins and they’d moved their pony cart on down the lane toward the next farm, she brought the moment full circle.

  “I’m sorry that made you so uncomfortable,” Lady Eleanor said when they were well away.

  “I can live with uncomfortable,” he said quietly. “It’s the greater sacrifices that stop me cold.” Caleb said. “The men who returned without arms, or legs, or sight. And the thousands who never made it home. Those are the real heroes. I don’t deserve to be honored when I gave so much less.”

  “You’re a very humble man, Captain. I find that most admirable.”

  “Now, ma’am—”

  Lady Eleanor lifted her hands in surrender, seeming to sense they’d breached the limit of his willingness to engage in this particular topic.

  Caleb turned his head, and his gaze caught hers. His heart shifted inside him. There was no denying the emotion she stirred. For a moment his eyes dropped to her mouth. Her lovely lips parted as if she were on the breath of saying more, but didn’t. Instead, she quickly lowered her gaze, and he knew she’d seen his need of a kiss, and she felt the same.

  They traveled in relative silence to the other tenants, and she delivered the baskets she’d brought with her. Each time before they moved on Caleb watched the Countess of Grattling hand the woman of the household a pouch that contained coins. If one thing was sure, it’s that there was no limit to Lady Eleanor’s generosity.

  “Was that the last stop?” Caleb asked when they were back on the lane.

  “There’s one more, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Follow this path, then.” She pointed to a lightly traveled path that led through a copse of trees. When they reached the edge, the trees opened to reveal a beautiful meadow on the edge of which stood a chapel. It had obviously been there for several generations, for the trees had grown over the small church to completely shade it.

  “You may wait here,” she said. “I’ll go on by myself.”

  Caleb jumped from the cart and helped her to the ground. When she was on her feet, she walked to the back of the cart and removed a bouquet of flowers.

  She carried them around the side of the chapel and lifted the latch to a wrought iron gate that let her enter a small cemetery.

  Caleb watched as she made her way to the far corner of the fenced plot and stood for several moments. Then, she slowly knelt to place the flowers on a well-tended grave.

  Caleb felt certain it must be her husband who was buried there.

  Seeing her there speaking quietly crystallized the answers to several questions for Caleb. The man buried beneath her flowers was surely the reason she’d refused to step back into Society. The man buried there was surely the reason she had found it impossible to give her heart to another man. She’d obviously loved Lord Grattling so much that it was unthinkable for her to love anyone else.

  Caleb would be wise to remember that.

  Chapter 8

  Nightfall found Caleb crossing the play yard on his rounds. For two days he’d been feeling rather crafty—and if he were honest with himself, rather bleak—at having eluded the presence of the beautiful Countess of Grattling. They passed one another, of course, but always at a distance, with a cheerful wave and shouted greeting. She hadn’t required his presence, but they were in constant contact by way of the messages that flew back and forth between them via the service staff. It felt rather ingenious, and it spared him the dilemma of having to keep his attraction to her in check.

  The children called out to him, too. He could scarcely make his way across the grounds without being hailed by a dozen tykes. They wanted him to throw the ball because he could throw it farther than anyone else. Or they needed him to reach a toy because it was stuck in a tree. If Lady Eleanor happened to be present, at least those times held less risk because they weren’t alone. The children were with them. Between them.

  What was most dangerous were the times she found it impossible to sleep and would roam the garden.

  He didn’t want to imagine the reason for her sleeplessness for fear it was memories of her husband. After seeing her bent shoulders and bowed head when she placed the flowers on his grave, Caleb knew how much his death had affected her.

  “Another sleepless night?” he asked when he caught her movement out of the corner of his eye as she walked through the moonlit garden.

  She turned at the sound of his voice. “Not exactly. I was about to retire when Jenny came for me. The lass we rescued this week was having a time of it. She missed her mum, and Jenny thought I might be helpful.”

  “And were you?”

  She smiled. “I’ve had a great deal of practice at calming overwrought children. In time, the lass fell asleep. But by that time, sleep was far from anything I could manage.”

  Caleb smiled.

  “Would you mind if I accompanied you on your rounds?”

  “Of course not,” Caleb lied. It was a beautiful night, and he’d thought of her far too much to now be in her company. He adjusted his pace to hers as they walked from one post to the next. But he didn’t hold out his arm or take her hand. He knew how he would react to her touch.

  “Have the men had any trouble?” she asked after they left the spot that Willie guarded.

  “Not trouble, exactly. One of the men thought he saw someone trying to a
pproach the manor house, but on investigation, it was a young deer.” Caleb didn’t tell her that they did, however, find fresh tracks that indicated someone had been there.

  They stepped around the reflecting pool and strolled to the area that Jamie guarded. Caleb had been impressed with Jamie from the first. He would have made an excellent agent for the government had he served in the war. He was extremely observant and caught things that most of the other guards didn’t catch.

  “Good evening, Jamie,” he greeted when they approached the lad.

  Jamie spun around as if they’d taken him by surprise. The expression on Jamie’s face told Caleb something was wrong, and Caleb wished Eleanor wasn’t with him.

  “What is it?”

  “Something’s out there,” Jamie said. “Behind that grove of trees. Could just be an animal, but . . .” He paused to listen. “I don’t think so.”

  Caleb looked to where he pointed. “Stay with Jamie, my lady. I think I’ll take a look.”

  “Perhaps we should go for more men?” she said.

  “We can’t risk having other areas go unguarded for what might be an animal foraging for a midnight meal.”

  She nodded. “I suppose not. You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” he said, then turned to look over his shoulder. “You know what to do, right?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jamie answered.

  Caleb kept to the shadows as he made his way toward the copse of trees. That’s when he heard the sound Jamie had described. He went from tree to tree until he could get a clear look at what was making the sound. It was a man.

  The stranger was crouched on the ground, filling a bag with dry leaves and brush. The rhythmic drag of his hand across the littered ground was the sound that had alerted Jamie. When he saw the paraphernalia the man had placed on a nearby tree stump, it didn’t take Caleb long to realize what the man intended. He watched as the man slowly stuffed the brush into the tops of bottles. Caleb didn’t doubt the bottles were filled with alcohol or some sort of flammable liquid and would be placed around Southern Oaks. Then lit.