She nodded slowly, praying inwardly that Henri would never learn of this. But all she said was, “I forgive you. And if it comes to it, I know Father will also.”
The calm way she expressed this left Jean clearly stunned.
“The real reason why I came to you this day,” she replied, “why both of us are here, is to share with you the message of God’s love for you.”
Gordon said, “We, who have every reason to hate you, come now with a message of peace. As one who was placed in the hangman’s cage by your very hand, I urge you to think on where you are headed.”
Beneath the table Nicole reached over and gripped Gordon’s hand. It felt as though her heart were about to burst, but she forced herself to stay composed. “See this as a moment when you can still choose your final destiny,” she said. “Choose wisely, while you still have the time.”
Chapter 40
Nicole reached up to push back a tendril of hair that had tumbled across her forehead. Her Bible lay open in her lap, but her eyes were closed. She’d read the Scripture passage often enough over the past days to know it by heart. It spoke to her in a new way each time she recited it to herself. It was Gordon who had drawn her attention to these verses in the Gospel of Matthew. She smiled at the thought. Strange that she had felt she must lead him into spiritual truths, and now it was he who was leading her.
She had been familiar with the passage. Both sets of parents had at various times tried to instill the words within her, yet for some reason they had only touched her mind, not her heart. Perhaps she hadn’t needed them in such an intense way before. She needed them now. Had perhaps always needed them but had refused to recognize the fact. She opened her eyes and stared into the distance where a lone driver prodded a team of oxen pulling a cart weighed down with newly mown hay. Nicole could smell the freshness of it even from where she sat on the vinecovered veranda, sheltered from the burn of the afternoon sun.
The words were spoken by Christ himself.
“Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.
“But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;
“That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven.”
In spite of the heaviness of her heart as she thought of the conflict in the world she knew, she smiled to herself. She felt she was finally beginning to grasp the deeper meaning of the verses before her. What a different place the world would be if people lived by the words of the blessed Book.
She sighed. Her world was again headed for war. Was already in deep conflict. There was no peace. No peace.
“Ah.” The one small sound escaped her lips. She laid her head against the high-backed rocker, again closing her eyes against the intensity of her feelings. There could be peace. There was peace. Wonderful, glorious peace within individual hearts. With God’s help and forgiveness she had discovered it for herself, once she had let go of the bitterness and pain of her past. For the first time she felt she truly understood the two sets of parents who had given and sustained her life. They knew the passage. Not just the words but the truth in the words. The God of the words. This was why they had not fallen into bitterness. What was it Pastor Collins had said about the response of different soils to the same rains? Some soil became soft and pliable, other soil hard-packed and resistant. Why had it taken her so long to see this?
Again Nicole thought of the words of the passage. The truth had been there, right before her all the time. God forgives when forgiveness is given. There can be no joy or comfort in an embittered heart. For the follower of the Christ, there was no other choice but forgiveness.
Her smile deepened. She couldn’t describe the relief to her soul to have this peace within, the bitterness now gone through which she had once viewed her world. At first she had felt almost a void. The anger had become such a part of her, to have it taken away had left a vacancy. Yet this was soon filled up as she turned to the pages of Scripture. The change had been beyond her dreams and expectation. Every day she felt the inner quickening. The sky appeared brighter, the birdsongs sounded sweeter. She felt more alive than ever. Even in the midst of the deepest of traumas her inner peace brought her a settledness, stability now. It was a miracle. There was that word again.
The prayer that rose from her heart was one of deepfelt gratitude to a God who understood her far better than she understood herself.
Gordon called on her that evening, a regular occurrence now among the events of the day. Each time she heard his approaching footsteps, her heart felt a tremor of anticipation.
Their greeting was warm but discreet. Within the small Cambridge inn where Nicole resided, curious eyes seemed to be everywhere.
“It has been unseasonably warm today,” Gordon observed as he placed his hat in Nicole’s outstretched hand.
“It is much cooler on the back porch,” she said. “Do you wish for shade?”
“I have no desire to discredit your name—” he began, but Nicole quickly put his uncertainties to rest.
“Two of the household servants are working in the back garden,” she explained.
Gordon nodded, relief in his eyes. “Some mercy from the sun’s blast does sound good.”
“I have drawn some fresh water from the well.”
She watched a moment as Gordon retreated to the porch, heavily screened by ivy, and lowered himself into one of the hickory twig chairs and stretched out his legs. She hurried toward the well.
“It is much cooler here, is it not?” Nicole asked as she poured out two cups of the cold water and set the pitcher on a small wicker table. She handed the cup to Gordon, and their fingers brushed slightly. Nicole dropped her eyes and felt her cheeks warm.
“It is,” Gordon said. “Very much so. I’ve never felt such heat, even when out drilling troops in the midday sun. But we did much of our training in the forested valley down below the fort. Sergeant Jackson is proving to be worth his weight in gold, I don’t mind telling you. We might easily have lost half the men to heatstroke, had John not suggested we train among the trees.”
Nicole’s heart sank at the mention of preparing for battles to come. He must have seen it, for he hurried on, “What has busied your day?”
“Very little. I feel rather useless living such as I do. I did a bit of mending of tunics. And I did go in to market with my basket. There wasn’t much to be found. It is a blessing we have the gardens and the hens.”
She lifted her cup and moved to the chair near Gordon. Both remained silent with their thoughts. At length Gordon broke the silence.
“I came this evening with a heaviness of spirit,” he said slowly, “with a very small but intense hope that will not die.”
Nicole lifted her head and looked into his face.
“You know that I have sought before to share my heart with you. You stopped me then and wisely so. It was not the proper time to speak, just as you said,” he said, his words coming faster now.
Nicole could feel her heart thumping within her chest. She prayed she would remain calm, think clearly.
“What to me was once a mystery—that a maid would turn away the suit of an honorable man simply because he did not hold to faith in the same way she herself did—I now see as justified. I admire you for placing the choice before me. Had I known then the difference between believing that there is a God and believing that I must of necessity throw myself on His mercy, I would have understood your position without question. I must thank you for your stability of faith.”
High compliments, all. But not the words Nicole most desired to hear.
Gordon cleared his throat, switched the position of his booted feet, and continued, “I fear that we have put ourselves in a very delicate position. I am unsure as to what your situation might be in regard to returning to Nova Scotia, but I expect that British shores will no longer bid you welcome. As for me, I know I dar
e not ever present myself to my homeland again. There is no turning back, Nicole. I have given my allegiance to this new land of America. I intend to also give my heart in loyalty. Win or lose the battle that is surely before us, I am now on the side of the colonists, whatever the cost. This will be my home.”
He paused and she nodded silently. “What you say is true,” she said, her voice sounding surprisingly low and steady to her own ears. “There is no turning back. We have cast our lot.”
“That does not trouble you?”
“It troubles me greatly. Good men will die in this war, and wives will lose their husbands. Mothers will lose sons, children their fathers. It makes no sense to me. But we cannot choose the world in which we live. The conflict is already here. We are here. And we have chosen the side we must be on. What can one do but pray and trust our very lives to God? If I never see my parents again—” she paused a moment to collect herself. “Well, I cannot, nor would I ever choose to hide my grief. I will grieve if our country continues to be torn by war. But sailing back to England is not an option for me. This is my country.”
Then an unexpected boldness took hold of Nicole. She raised her head and looked directly into the eyes of the man before her. “And I should grieve even more should this war rend from me one whom I have come to love with all my heart.”
“Do you mean there is hope, and this anguish of heart may yet be stilled?” His voice was barely heard, yet the words were clear.
Tears gathered in her eyes. “There need be no anguish,” she answered, “so long as there is love.”
He reached to take her hand in both of his. “There is love, my darling Nicole. Unspeakable love. I have agonized over my desire to tell you so, but I did not know if I dared to hope, unworthy as I am. I have nothing—absolutely nothing to offer a viscountess.”
She pressed his hands to her face, and he could feel the dampness of her tears. “Do not speak of unworthiness,” she said. “Before God we are both unworthy, yet He saw fit to freely give us His grace. And do not speak of the viscountess. She has served her purpose and is no longer needed. Here we are all equal and beginning anew.” Her smile came from her heart, and she kissed his hand. “And, Gordon,” she continued, “you do have everything to offer. Where there is love, there is everything we truly need.”
Gordon lifted her hand and kissed it in return.
Their eyes met, as though for the first time, as though for all eternity. In that moment, all worries over the past and anxieties over the future were stilled. Here was the shelter of each other. Here, at last, was love.
Authors’ Note
Early that summer, the new British commandant of His Majesty King George III’s Royal Colonial Army ordered a secret evacuation of all Loyalist forces from Boston. Under the cover of night, the entire garrison was removed.
By early July, Boston and its surroundings were firmly in the hands of the American forces, commanded by General George Washington.
The British never returned.
Watch for The Beloved Land.
The Distant Beacon Page 21