“I can’t.” Alex halted and gazed at the dirt. He couldn’t let his family down yet again. Couldn’t make another bad decision based on foolish sentiments.
“So you would have me marry that fiend?”
“No.” The thought made Alex’s stomach churn and brought a sour taste to his mouth. “I will not allow that to happen.”
“I don’t see how you can prevent it.” She turned her back to him and her shoulders lowered.
“Trust me, Rose.” Alex reached up to touch her but thought better of it. Truth be told, a plan had formed in his mind even before Mr. Snyder had galloped away.
When she faced him again, her face was dry, and her eyes held the distant look of surrender. She had accepted her fate. He knew she would eventually. He knew because she was wise and strong—not a woman given to flighty, romantic notions. It was one of the things he loved about her. And a quality he wished he possessed more of, for at this moment, if she would but beg him to stay one more time, he doubted he could resist her.
“I shall pray for you, Alex. I’ll pray that you can someday return to your home in England.” Her voice threatened to crack.
“And I shall pray the same for you as well.” He stepped toward her and fingered a strand of silky hair. “I will never forget you, Rose.”
He studied her creamy face, memorizing every detail, the tiny wrinkle on her forehead that told him she was upset, her thin brown eyebrows drawn together in a frown, her high cheeks flushed with emotion, her moist lips. One last kiss. Could he steal one last kiss? He lowered his lips to hers. They tasted of tears and trembled at his touch.
Before she tore away from him and fled into the night.
Alex dashed to the door. Rose’s white skirts billowed in the breeze and seemed to be floating over the ground like an angel as she receded into the darkness.
Then she was gone.
He rubbed his burning eyes. The sooner he left the better. He searched the room for his belongings and remembered Mr. Snyder had stolen them all. He had nothing but the clothes on his back. And those weren’t even his. Blowing out the lantern, he stood at the door and took one last look at the room that had been his private chamber this past week. No four-poster oak bed topped with a silk embroidered coverlet, no mahogany writing desk, or rich velvet curtains, no Persian rug or marble-framed fireplace, but this small dirty room had brought him far more comfort than his elegant bedchamber at home. He closed the door, passed the house—forcing himself not to look at it—then headed toward the dirt road.
Anger simmered within him until it seared his vision and branded his thoughts with purpose. A dark cloud drifted over the moon, stealing the light and casting the dirt road into even deeper shadows. No matter. Alex knew where he was going. Well, almost.
Mr. Snyder may think he has the upper hand in this dangerous game, but Alex would be a pirate’s lackey before he’d allow that snake to marry Rose. A hint of a plan had taken root in his mind even before the slimy toad had finished his threats. It was the exact carrying out of that plan that eluded Alex at the moment.
Despite his promise to himself, he cast one last glance over his shoulder at the Drummond home. Golden light cascaded from the windows, beckoning him back to the only place that had ever felt like home—to the people he’d grown to love. A shadow crossed thev upstairs casement. Rose? He swallowed and fisted his hands.
“Good-bye, my love,” he whispered into the wind.
The clomp of horse’s hooves drew him about to see a lone rider heading his way. Before he had a chance to even consider where he could hide, the man closed in on him, Alex recognized the familiar form of Mr. Drummond. The older man pulled his horse to a stop and peered down at Alex.
“Is that you, Mr. Reed?”
“Yes sir.”
“Sink me, what are you doing out here in the dark?” His horse pranced over the dirt. “Hop on and I’ll give you a ride back home.”
Home. “I can’t go back, Mr. Drummond. Ever.” He owed this man the truth and welcomed the opportunity to thank him for his kindness.
The old man gave him a curious look, then flipped his leg over the saddle and slipped from the horse with more agility than Alex would have expected. “What’s that you say? Of course you can go back.”
Alex shook his head, squinting to see the man’s face in the darkness. A face that had always brought comfort to Alex. But the shadows forbade him a view. “Mr. Drummond, you have been very kind to me, and I thank you for taking me into your home and into your employ. And for gracing me with your friendship.”
“What happened, son?” Mr. Drummond’s voice grew solemn.
Alex shifted his stance, unsure of how much to disclose. “Let’s just say that if I stay, I will endanger your entire family.”
“I’d say you’ve had quite the opposite effect, particularly on Rose.” The dark cloud slipped aside, allowing the moon’s light to seek out Mr. Drummond and bathe him in its creamy glow.
“Believe me, sir, for your own safety and for Rose’s, I must leave.” Alex bowed his head and avoided looking into Mr. Drummond’s brown, caring eyes. “Please extend my thanks and appreciation to your wife.” He turned to leave.
Mr. Drummond grabbed his arm. “Has this anything to do with you being a British naval officer?”
A sudden breeze stole the words away before Alex’s mind could grasp them. He blinked and scratched his head. “You knew?”
“Aye.” Mr. Drummond chuckled.
Alex would have laughed if he weren’t so filled with sorrow. This man he’d once considered to be nothing but a bumbling fool turned out wiser than them all. “How?”
“Ah, shame on me, Mr. Reed, if I don’t know what’s happening beneath my own roof.”
“Why didn’t you have me arrested? Or at least tossed out of your house?”
Mr. Drummond folded his hands over his prominent belly. “You are good for Rose. I’ve never seen her so happy.”
The reminder opened a fresh wound on Alex’s heart. “But I am her enemy—your enemy.”
“Your country, yes. But not you, Mr. Reed. I count myself a good judge of character, and I could tell the first time I met you that you are an honorable man with a kind heart.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t much care for this war, Mr. Reed. But I also don’t judge a man by color, status, money, or nationality.” He tapped a finger on Alex’s chest. “God judges by the heart, and I try to do that as well.”
The man’s words defied everything Alex had been taught his entire life. He stared at the man in wonder. “I am all astonishment, sir.”
Mr. Drummond grinned. “Besides, God told me you and Rose are a good match.”
“I wish that were true.” Alex winced beneath another jab to his heart.
“Why not stay and find out?”
“Upon my honor, I cannot, sir. I have obligations in England to attend to. But, I fear my identity has been discovered and your family threatened.”
“Mr. Snyder, eh?”
Again the man amazed Alex. “He has my service sword with my name engraved upon it.”
Mr. Drummond groaned.
“He threatened to turn in your family as traitors. He forces Rose to marry him,” Alex snapped, his anger rising once again.
“Well, we can’t let that happen, can we?”
Alex shook his head at the man’s confident tone. “She will do it to save you and your wife from the traitor’s noose.”
The elderly man scratched his bearded jaw. Anticipation rose as Alex waited, hoping he would offer an alternative plan. But no wise answer spilled from his lips.
Alex released a heavy sigh and gazed into the dark forest lining the path. Why torture himself? There was no other alternative. Yet even as his thoughts took a dive into despair, the idea planted earlier in his mind sprouted a promising leaf. “Are you acquainted with a Mr. Noah Brenin?”
“That I am.”
“Would you do me the kindness of showing me where he lives?”
Mr. Drummond’s eyes twinkled. “Would I be correct in perceiving, Mr. Reed, that you’ve got some trickery up your sleeve?”
“Aye, that I do, sir, a plan that will keep Rose from being forced to marry that callow nodcock.”
“God always finds a way, Mr. Reed.” Mr. Drummond grabbed his horse’s reins, clipped a buckled shoe into the stirrup, and swung onto her back. “Hop on, Mr. Reed. I’ll take you to Mr. Brenin myself.”
Alex followed Mr. Drummond up the porch stairs of a modest two-story home, capped with a hipped roof. Golden light, along with a child’s laughter and a discordant melody streamed through the open green shudders, barely glazing the tips of a multitude of flowers that must have been brilliant in the daylight.
Mr. Drummond knocked on the door. Each rap tightened the band around Alex’s nerves. Was he mad? Asking help of man he had impressed and enslaved aboard his ship? If Mr. Drummond had not insisted he join Alex on his mission, Alex couldn’t be sure that Noah wouldn’t strike him across the jaw and have him arrested on the spot. How could he blame him?
Clearing his throat, Mr. Drummond rapped again as a light breeze laden with salt and fish blew in from the harbor only a mile away. Even at this distance, Alex could see the bare masts of a multitude of ships spear into the night like white, ghostly claws above waters churning with anxiety. A sense of unrest and dread settled over the city. Alex could feel it in the air, see it in the faces of those they passed. All due to his countrymen.
The door swung open to a tall, sallow-skinned man whose lips puckered as if he’d just drunk a mug of sour milk. Folds of skin fell over a lavender neckcloth that appeared far too tight but held the only color in an otherwise drab black suit.
“Mr. Drummond and Mr. Reed to see Mr. Brenin, if you please.” Mr. Drummond brushed past the man without an invitation, and the butler’s face soured even further.
“Wait here.” He walked down the hall and entered a parlor on their left, where open double doors flooded the otherwise dim hallway with light and gaiety.
Moments later, the laughter and music fell silent, and the grim man returned. “Follow me.”
When Alex stepped into the room, the joyous sparkle in the eyes of those present faded as each gaze latched upon him. Marianne, Noah’s wife, who sat at the pianoforte, leaped to her feet and covered her mouth with her hand. A glass slipped from Noah’s grip and shattered on the floor, spraying the contents over the wooden planks. A child let out a startled cry, and an elderly woman took the baby in her arms and rose from a floral-printed settee, her worried gaze shifting from Alex to Noah.
Noah stepped over the broken glass, his face tight and his skin flushed. “What are you doing here, Reed?”
Mr. Drummond’s gray eyebrows arched at Alex. “I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with the Brenins.”
Alex cleared his throat. He hadn’t wanted to tell Mr. Drummond for fear he wouldn’t bring him to their home. “Yes, they had the misfortune of being impressed on my ship.”
“Then you know who this man is?” Noah proceeded toward a cabinet against the far wall, flung it open and grabbed a pistol.
“Indeed I do.” Mr. Drummond said. “But before you go shooting him, he is here as a friend to Rose, not an enemy.”
“A friend to …” Noah spun around, pistol in hand.
Marianne stepped out from the pianoforte. “Then we did see you in town the other day?”
Alex nodded in her direction. “Good evening, Miss Denton. I mean Mrs. Brenin, the last time I saw you you were hanging off the stern of my ship.”
“Indeed.” Marianne said with a slight smile.
Noah methodically poured gun powder into the barrel, then rammed the bullet inside with a ramrod. “Mr. Drummond, surely you know that bringing him here endangers my entire family.”
The elderly woman gasped, stumbled and lowered herself and the child back onto the settee.
Mr. Drummond scratched his beard. “That will not happen, I assure you. We only need a moment of your time. Please I beg of you to trust me. Rose’s future is at stake.”
Noah cocked the gun with an ominous click then pointed it at Alex.
Though his insides began to clench, Alex forced a stoic look upon his face. Surely the man wouldn’t shoot him here in front of his family?
Marianne wove around the shattered glass and slid beside her husband. “Mr. Reed was always kind to us, Noah. Hear him out, for Rose’s sake.”
The young boy, who could be no more than one grabbed a wooden doll from the elderly woman’s hand and stuffed the arm in his mouth.
Mr. Drummond faced the woman on the settee. “Mrs. Denton, always a pleasure. You appear in fine health these days,” he said as if there weren’t a gun pointed at Alex.
“Indeed, Reverend Drummond.” The woman, whom Alex assumed to be Marianne’s mother, clutched the child tighter. Veins lined her thin, frail hands, yet her eyes were clear and her voice strong. “There is nothing like a grandchild to keep an old lady around past her time.”
Lowering his pistol, Noah flattened his lips. “What is it you want?”
“May we speak to you alone, Noah?” Mr. Drummond asked. “It is a matter of grave importance.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed. He glanced at his wife who nodded her approval. “Very well.” Still gripping the pistol, he led the men across the hall to another room, closing the doors behind them. Tobacco and wood smoke combined to form the masculine scent of a man’s library. Bookshelves lined the right wall from floor to ceiling. A cold fireplace stood on Alex’s left. Candle sconces hanging intermittently on the fore and aft walls sent flickering light across the sturdy wood furniture. A walnut desk guarded the far wall while various cushioned Windsor chairs were scattered throughout. Whitewashed walls decorated with oil paintings of ships and the sea sat above a wooden chair rail that circled the room like a ship’s bulwark.
Placing his pistol atop his desk, Noah crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, what is this about?”
Mr. Drummond took a seat and deferred the question to Alex, who after taking a deep breath, spent the next few minutes explaining how he had come to be on the Drummond farm and the ultimatum Mr. Snyder had issued to him and Rose earlier in the evening.
Gripping the edge of his desk, Noah stared at the cross-stitched rug by his boots. “Egad man, what were you thinking staying with the Drummonds so long?”
Alex walked to the fireplace, placed his boot atop the marble hearth and gazed at dark coals. “I should have left as soon as I could walk. I intended to leave last night, but—”
“I enlisted his help to rebuild the Myers’ house.” Mr. Drummond coughed.
Noah glanced up. “You don’t say? Unheard of. A British officer cleaning up the mess he made.” Sarcasm stung in his voice.
Alex grimaced. “I felt obliged.” Then he snapped his eyes to Mr. Drummond as the realization struck him. “As you knew I would.”
Mr. Drummond shrugged. “I had to think of some way to keep you here.”
“To keep him here?” Noah’s face scrunched. “Are you daft, Reverend?”
“Perhaps.” Mr. Drummond smiled and patted the pockets of his waistcoat as if searching for something. “He’s good for Rose.”
Alex turned his back to the mantel and crossed his arms over his chest. “In truth, I was having difficulty leaving anyway.” Would he sound foolish if he shared his feelings for Rose with Noah?
Noah’s blue eyes turned to ice. “I would think you’d be anxious to return to your ship and continue terrorizing innocent farmers.”
Alex flinched beneath the blow. “If you must know, I have no desire to do either.”
“Why not stay, become an American?” Noah asked. “Then Snyder’s threats would be empty.”
Alex hung his head. Oh how he wanted to. With everything in him. But he couldn’t. Hadn’t he already made enough mistakes by following the leading of his heart? “I can’t.”
Noah snorted.
Mr. Drummond qu
it his unsuccessful search and stood. His gaze shifted between Alex and Noah, finally landing on Noah. “Mr. Reed only wishes to help Rose.”
Moving to the fireplace, Noah eyed Alex. A wood-encased clock perched upon the mantel marked Alex’s future with an eerie tick-tock, tick-tock. “You love her?”
Alex said nothing.
“Yet you’ll leave her.” Noah’s voice spiked with disdain. “For what? Title, fortune? Ah, don’t want to step down off your British pedestal, become a common American, eh?”
Alex met his gaze. “That’s not the reason.”
Mr. Drummond stepped toward Noah. “Will you help us, Mr. Brenin?”
“What else can you do now but leave?” Noah said. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”
Alex shook his head. “I can’t. Not until I make things right. Not until I fix it so Rose will not be forced to marry that insolent ninny on my account.”
“I don’t see how you can prevent it.” Noah huffed.
Alex lengthened his stance, feeling his resolve strengthen.” He leaned toward Noah. “I have a plan, but I need your help.”
Noah lifted one brow. “A plan?”
“Yes. To break into Snyder’s home and steal back my sword.”
CHAPTER 20
Rose pried open her swollen eyelids to see nothing but the scratchy underside of her quilt. Sunlight filtering through the fabric twisted the threads into chaotic patterns. She traced them with her eyes until dizziness overtook her. From the top, the quilt’s multicolored strands formed a beautiful pattern. But underneath they appeared disorderly and without purpose—just like her life. Birds outside her window chirped a traitorous, joyful melody. How could any creature be happy when Rose was steeped in such overwhelming sorrow?
Alex was gone.
Forever.
Why hadn’t the world stopped spinning? Why did the sun keep rising? Something besides her broken heart should mark the passage of such an honorable man.
Her chamber door squeaked open. “Rose, dear.” Aunt Muira’s tone sounded heavy, muffled. Smells of fresh biscuits and coffee from downstairs penetrated Rose’s quilt and caused her stomach to rumble. She pressed a hand to her belly—as traitorous as the birds and the sun.
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