He eyed her. “What, exactly?”
“I have fed the rebels information, and I all but handed you the location of one of their camps. It is not my fault you found nothing but cold ash and horse waste. I want you to give me what I have always wanted.”
Layton settled back and smiled. “If I’m impressed by what you have for me, I will make the arrangements as soon as I leave here. Though, in the middle of a war, I cannot guarantee you a pleasant voyage, madam.”
“I assure you, none of this has been pleasant, sir.” Lydia walked to the doorway. “And this time I want our agreement in writing. I believe there is stationery and ink in Charles’s desk, and our conversation involves him.”
The major’s eyes widened with interest, and he followed her into the office. She placed the paper and quill before him and waited. Hopefully the focus on what she wanted from him would keep him from doubting what she told him next.
He wrote what she asked but left the bottom unsigned. “Now, tell me what you know and I’ll add my signature.”
Lydia made him wait, studying the agreement instead. “Very well. It seems a certain relative of mine has been misleading about his loyalties and will soon be able to lead you straight to that sly fox that has been eluding you the past year.” She paused, letting the major ingest the information. “Tomorrow night. Reid said he would rendezvous with Mr. Selby and take him to Colonel Marion for a meeting.”
Major Layton’s gaze threatened to light her on fire, but she could see his mind working, no doubt wondering if such an opportunity were actual. “Where?”
A very good question. “Somewhere near Shepherd’s Ferry, but I do not have an exact location. You will have to follow Mr. Selby.”
Please, let this work. She just needed Major Layton to leave Charles alone long enough for him to get away. If all went well, he could send for Maggie and Ester later.
A trill of excitement passed through her. Her plan would work, and as long as the major took his men and the Queen’s Rangers with him to Shepherd’s Ferry, Daniel would have no difficulty coming for her.
“You seem pleased with yourself, Miss Reynolds,” Layton said.
“Should I not be? If all goes well, we shall both have everything we want.”
He nodded and then signed the agreement. “Perhaps I misjudged you after all.” He dropped the quill back to the desk and made a bow. “I will see about your passage, though it may require you to travel to Charles Town.”
“Hardly an inconvenience.” Lydia stood and followed the major from the room. There would be little time to freshen up before dinner. Charles had told her there would be company for their Christmas feast.
The major paused, eyes on Charles as he led Ester across the threshold.
Charles looked from Lydia to the British officer and back again, silent questions ridging his forehead.
Major Layton gave a nod, and then stepped aside so Lydia could properly greet their guest—the soon-to-be mistress of the estate.
“I’m so glad you could come, Miss Hilliard.” Lydia took her hand and prayed Ester would have the frame of mind to remain silent about their earlier exchange.
“She is no longer Miss Hilliard.” Charles placed Ester’s hand back on his arm. “As of this morning, she is Mrs. Selby.” He seemed to study Lydia for a reaction.
She smiled, this one much easier to muster than the one she had given the Major. “This morning?”
Ester nodded. “I am sorry I kept it from you.”
Lydia’s eyes misted and she blinked to keep them clear. A secret wedding. That explained the closed parlor door at the Hilliards. Had they not even trusted their servants to be present? She wanted nothing more than to embrace Ester—and Charles, for that matter—and tell them how pleased she was for them. And Maggie. Ester would be the mother the child needed so badly. A mother who would love and cherish her.
But Major Layton continued to watch.
Lydia stiffened both her spine and her smile. “No matter. I must excuse myself to prepare for dinner, but shall return shortly.” She turned, giving Layton a slight nod as she moved past. God, please help us.
~*~
“What are you grinning about?”
Daniel reined his horse in, too pleased to be put off by Colonel Horry’s tone. “You’re a little closer to Georgetown than I left you.”
Horry shrugged. “Been playing with the Queen’s Rangers. A bashful group if I’ve ever seen one.”
“I wondered what had them running scared. Though, with a dozen more men than them, perhaps it’s understandable.”
“You saw them, then?”
“Yes. And there being more of them than of me, I admit they had me ready to run as well.” Daniel looked past the colonel to his men. “You have two companies? Where is Colonel Marion?”
“He rode up toward Indiantown. Why?”
“I’ve spoken with him about returning to New England soon.” He momentarily reined in his smile. “I think it’s time.”
“A shame.” Horry frowned. “We had all sorts of plans for Georgetown in the next few weeks.”
“As much as I have enjoyed riding with you, I think it best I take my wife as far as possible from you crazy swamp runners.” Daniel nudged his horse past.
“Your wife?” Horry twisted in his saddle.
Daniel’s cheeks ached from the force of his grin. “That’s the other reason I need to speak with Colonel Marion. I want his blessing on my wedding.”
Horry laughed out loud. “Isn’t right, Reid, a New Englander coming down to steal one of our belles.”
Daniel slowed the horse long enough to shout back a reply. “When you’re ready for a wife, come up our way and we’ll repay the favor.”
Laughter followed him as he encouraged the mare to quicken her pace. He had a few things to get in order before tomorrow night.
~*~
Her room dark but for a single candle on the nearby dressing table, Lydia sat by her window, listening as a handful of the King’s soldiers had their ears filled with something quite displaced from Christmas cheer.
Charles Selby was missing. Nowhere to be found. He’d gotten away. For now, he was safe.
The shouting downstairs only grew louder, demanding every resident of the house make an appearance. Lydia fortified herself with a breath and a prayer, before she pushed up from her perch and moved to the door.
Ester stepped out at almost the same time from the nursery, Maggie’s cries following her. There had been no time for Charles to take his little family with him. Not yet. He’d slipped away shortly after dinner. As soon as Eli had informed him of the betrayal.
“Stay with the baby,” Lydia whispered, nodding Ester back to the nursery.
“No, the nursemaid is with her.” A sharpness clipped her words. “I shall come see what the major wants.” Her shoulders squared and chin raised, Ester led the way.
Lydia followed with wonder at her friend’s confidence. If only she could manage the same, but an overabundance of “what if’s” buzzed in her head and no answers for any of them. Only fear. She couldn’t help the familiar sensation of dread feeding upon her. But though peace had fled, she clung to hope. Hope in a higher power, that perhaps God maintained control of everything that spiraled out of her grasp, that He was a loving Father as Eli had described him. Her one true refuge.
“Mrs. Selby, Miss Reynolds,” Major Layton bellowed. “Down here now!”
The blush Ester had worn hours earlier as a new bride had faded, but little else suggested distress at her husband’s speedy departure. “Yes, Major?”
“Do you have any knowledge of Mr. Selby’s whereabouts, or who might have aided him? For your own sake, and for his, I suggest you be honest with me, madam.”
“I know nothing.” She maintained the major’s gaze, a nonchalance in her tone. “He did not so much as tell me he planned to depart. And I cannot imagine where he has gone.”
Lydia prayed she was as successful at keeping her face passive.
Major Layton palmed the hilt of his sword as he turned away. “You may return to your chambers, Mrs. Selby. You will be confined to this house under guard until your husband returns. Miss Reynolds, come with me.”
As Ester turned back to the stairs, her eyes narrowed.
Lydia fell back a step under the condemnation that sparked in her friend’s gaze. She had no choice but to let Ester go and trail the major into Charles’s office.
He closed the door behind her and circled to the desk. “Pray tell, how are we supposed to follow Mr. Selby to Marion if he has already stolen away?”
“You still have Shepard’s Ferry.” She held her voice even. “Lay in wait for Sergeant Reid and compel him to lead you.” That would get them away from the town, giving her a chance to meet Daniel.
Major Layton folded his arms, his face lined with a scowl. “Very well. But you will come and provide a familiar face for your rebel. I am sure we can make him much more cooperative with your help.”
28
Daniel pulled the cinch against his horse’s belly and tightened the leather strap before tying off the remaining length. He had thirty-five miles to ride and wanted plenty of time to sneak into Georgetown to meet Lydia. Then they would ride back to Indiantown together to be married. It was hard not to grin like a fool.
“Reid!” The holler came from the small frame house where Colonel Marion and his officers discussed their plans. The plantation owner had been generous to let the troops camp on his property.
Daniel headed in that direction, curious. He had already taken leave of Marion. Unless there was a message or something they wanted him to deliver to Georgetown.
The Colonel met him outside. “Sergeant…” Marion frowned. “Daniel…there’s something you need to know before you go.” He took the reins from Daniel and handed them off to one of his men. “Come inside.”
Daniel stepped into the low-lit room, his eyes needing a moment to adjust.
A group of Marion’s officers stood in a cluster.
One man sat at the table, refilling a glass with water. Charles Selby. He looked at Daniel, eyes widening, then pushed to his feet and extended his hand. “Good to see you again, Reid. And thank you for passing that letter on to Colonel Marion. I wanted him to be aware of who I was and my allegiances in case I needed help. It has proved most fortuitous, though premature.”
“What happened?”
“Major Layton found out about the Americus and my plans for the Zephyr. I did not even have time to bring my family. If one of my slaves had not warned me, I would probably be joining those prisoners aboard my own ship.”
Daniel nodded, steadying himself against the edge of the table. Lydia was in danger. He couldn’t delay. “Do you know who betrayed you? I thought only Captain Hues and a handful of the crew knew.”
Charles sank back into his chair. He took the tricorn hat from his head and lowered it to the table with a thunk. The glass vibrated. “One other person. I hoped, prayed, and begged for her silence, but my late wife’s sister, Lydia Reynolds, is thoroughly loyal to the crown and obsessed with the idea of returning to England. She has been bargaining with Major Layton for months now, feeding him information.”
“A spy?” Daniel couldn’t muster more than a whisper as the tiny nagging voice he’d been trying so hard to bury with his doubts about Lydia rose with a shout.
“As I understand from snatches of conversations I’ve overheard, she found some Patriot and deceived him into believing she shared his loyalties. The poor fool. Though I guess I was an equal fool.”
Daniel’s teeth began to ache. He wanted to protest that it couldn’t be, that Lydia was a Patriot, and she loved him. But the truth of Charles’s words only gave context to every conversation they’d had, her constant questioning and digging. No. It couldn’t be. She was planning to marry him. Yet this wasn’t the first time he’d been wrong about a woman’s affections. If he had been honest with himself from the start, he probably would have seen through Lydia’s pretenses, but he’d wanted to believe her. He could no longer refute reality. “Fool indeed.”
Marion came behind him and braced his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Daniel.”
For some reason the words didn’t help him breath any easier. If Lydia had been working with the British, then the information she’d given him about Allston’s Plantation had been inaccurate. Bait. And he’d taken it and led Gabe to his death. Daniel shoved away from the table and plowed through the door. The crisp, late December air did nothing to cool him as he stalked to where his horse had been tied to the top rail of a fence.
Someone jogged up behind him. “You were the one?” Charles questioned. “I suppose I should have guessed as much when we found you that night in Georgetown, and I had my suspicions, but—”
“Yes. I was the fool. More so than you can imagine.” Daniel tugged at the stirrup. “Not that I gave her anything. Not much, leastwise. I had suspicions from time to time. I didn’t give her information that mattered.” He froze. “Until yesterday. I told her about you. This is all my fault.”
His fist balled. Heat coursed through him, hazing his thoughts.
He’d ride to Georgetown as he’d planned. He’d find Lydia and…and he wasn’t sure what he would do, but he had to do something. He hadn’t felt so angry, so betrayed since…Rachel. When he’d rounded up a mob and almost seen an innocent man hanged. Daniel suddenly felt rather cold. He wiped his palms down his face. His vision swam. He wasn’t that man anymore. Lord, help me.
Charles’s voice penetrated his consciousness. “She already knew about the ship and about my plans. I am sure she was just biding her time, waiting until the information served her best.”
“I still shouldn’t have said anything. I was so sure…” That she loved him? That she would marry him? Lydia had played her part well.
“I’m sorry,” Charles mumbled. He turned back to the house. “I know how it feels.”
Daniel leaned into his horse’s shoulder. The less the other man knew about how strong he’d allowed his feelings for Lydia Reynolds to grow, the better. If only he could trust everyone else in camp to keep it a secret. Not likely.
The retreating footsteps paused. Charles stood, again facing him. “I am attempting to convince Colonel Marion to help me remove my wife and daughter from Georgetown. It might help if he knew I already had a man willing to assist.”
With the possibility of seeing Lydia again? When Daniel needed to get on this horse and point it north? He dropped his head forward with a nod. “You can tell him I’ll go.”
~*~
Darkness settled over them, all silently waiting.
Lydia sat stiff on her mount despite the fact that nobody would come. No one but a couple dozen or so of the Queen’s Rangers and Major Layton. Daniel would be far from here. And safe. All that mattered.
“We’ve been patrolling the area for hours,” the major grumbled after a time. “Selby has probably already found Marion’s camp and your rebel friend. Coming out here was a waste of time.”
But no lives were lost. She had distracted Layton enough for Charles to get away. Even if she couldn’t.
The major shot her a glare and gave the order to return to town. It was easy to look as disappointed as he did. All Lydia had to do was think of what this night could have meant. Had Daniel even come for her? Did he wait there still? Or had word of Charles’s betrayal already reached his ears? Did Charles suspect her of informing the British? Was that what he would tell Daniel? Questions continued to ignite in her mind, one after another.
The troops made their way back to the grand house. It seemed a hollow shell of a building now.
Taking leave of a livid British major, Lydia climbed the stairs. She peeked in the nursery first. Ester sat in the rocking chair next to Maggie’s crib, her head back, eyes closed. Lydia’s eyes watered. It was too easy to picture her dear sister in that very spot, watching over her own child. But Margaret was dead. Father was dead. Mother and little David and
Martin were dead. Only Lydia had survived.
In her chambers, Lydia waited until silence embraced the house. Then she stole down the back stairs through the kitchen to collect the old hooded cloak from where she had stashed it. She cracked the door open and listened.
A guard was posted at the front of the house and two more patrolled the perimeter. Their footsteps led away.
Darting across the yard, Lydia didn’t breathe until she’d plunged into the deep shadows of the surrounding hedges. She glanced back. No one appeared to have seen her.
With her skirts lifted enough to allow her to run, Lydia stayed off the open streets and hastened toward the docks to the storehouses. She was out of breath by the time she circled around to the front of the one where she had promised to meet Daniel. She laid her hand against the corner while she fought to fill her lungs. The shadows remained still.
Daniel had either given up waiting or never come at all.
Leaning against the wall, Lydia sank to the ground, hugging herself against the wintery air. She could only imagine how it would be in New England this time of year. Snow piled high. Icicles hanging from the roofs. How would life have been in a small cabin in the wilderness? One room. Maybe more.
Daniel would have seen to it that they had plenty of firewood, and a blazing fire would have kept their home warm no matter how cold the wind blew in New York. And they would have been together. Building a life. A family. Everything she had begun to hope for again.
Hope.
Lydia closed her eyes as a shiver passed through her. Hope had been a foreign concept for well over a year and she could continue to get along without it if she had to. In all but one thing. She hoped Daniel found his way home safely…even if she wasn’t at his side.
29
The odor of horse sweat saturated each breath as they slowed their mounts and directed them off the road. They rode several yards into the forests, then stopped and waited. The sound of hooves gradually grew and a company of green-clad rangers trotted past.
Daniel glanced to Charles and the moisture beading on his brow. Two and a half weeks of waiting to return for his family had been torture, and Daniel could well understand it. The last thing they needed was the British alerted to their presence and their wait prolonged.
The Patriot and the Loyalist Page 19