From the moment she’d met Matthew, the spark she’d felt had started a new flame of longing in her heart. Granted, they’d only met a couple of times—barely a few minutes each—but there was some sort of connection. Did he feel it too?
Removing her gloved hand from her nose, she realized her mistake and replaced it. She’d have to get more accustomed to the smell before he arrived. It wouldn’t do to stand here with her face covered the whole time they spoke. But then, she’d also arrived quite early. Anxious to see him again, she couldn’t help it.
The barn door creaked, which made the geese in the corner stall raise a ruckus. Should she hide until she knew who it was? She’d never been given instructions on this part—Matthew had always been waiting for her at the arranged meeting sights. Maybe she should at least ease her way into the corner. The shadows would hide her for now. Her heart jumped into a faster rhythm.
“Faith?” Matthew’s whisper floated over to her.
Releasing a sigh of relief, she moved toward his voice. “I am so glad it is you. I realized how unprepared I am for other visitors.”
He moved toward her until she could see his outline in the dim light.
She lowered her hand from her face. “You should probably take the time to instruct me on what I am to do in case I run into someone else.”
“I would be happy to.” He turned, but she couldn’t see what he was doing. “But first, we need a bit more light. Wait here.”
Faith couldn’t see where he went, but she could hear his rustling footsteps on the hay. She lifted her hand again and planned to keep it up by her nose as long as possible. A small circle of orange light headed back toward her.
“Here. I brought a candle with me, in hopes there would still be some embers burning in the fire.”
As he moved closer, she could see the lines of his face, and the deep brown of his eyes. Was it just her imagination, or did they dance with joy when he came near her? The smile that lifted his lips made her hope that he felt something of the same excitement she did.
“That was very smart of you.” She returned his smile and clasped her hands at her waist. With him near, the smell didn’t seem to affect her.
“I must admit that it was in hopes we’d have a few moments to get to know one another better.” The earnest look in his eyes stirred her heart. “Do you have the time to spare?”
“Why yes, of course.” Why did she feel like a young girl all over again? She was thirty-two—closing in on thirty-three—years of age. Goodness, she needed to get a grip on her feelings. They weren’t children. Maybe it would be best to conduct their business first. “Any brilliant advice to me on how to behave if there are other visitors?”
His smile made her stomach do a little flip. “Always remember that you are supposed to be there. Wherever it is. So act as such. If it makes you feel better, think ahead of time about what you would say if questioned. Come up with a valid reason, and then your brain will be able to relax.”
“That is very good advice, thank you.” If she could just keep her heart at a regular rhythm, she was sure she could manage it. But with Matthew so close, that was quite difficult. “I have a message for you.” Reaching through the slit in her skirts she found the pockets hanging from her waist. She’d had Marie take extra precaution and pin them in addition to tying them around her waist so there was no risk of losing them. She pulled out the paper.
Matthew took it and began to read it. “Thank you.” His face shadowed for a moment. “It is as I feared.”
She cocked her head. “Feared? Are things getting worse?”
His face softened at her worried query. “I’m sure you are well aware of all that has been going on.”
“Most of it, yes.”
“All this time, I have been hoping to avoid all-out war, but I fear that was just a whim—reality is so much more harsh than we’d like to admit.” He reached into his coat and brought out a folded paper. “I need you to deliver this message back.”
“Of course.” As she took the message, their fingers touched, and she allowed her hand to linger. Looking into Matthew’s eyes, she saw the heartache he felt. War wasn’t unknown to him—she knew he’d fought battles at the side of George in the French and Indian conflict, she’d received many letters mentioning his bravery and honor—but she wished it could be. Especially now.
As much as everyone behind the Patriot cause wanted their freedom, it would be nice if it could be won without a fight.
“I am sorry for the location of our meeting—the smell is quite overpowering.” He released a slight chuckle. “But I was hoping for some quiet and a little bit of warmth so we could visit.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” Although she could quite do without the stench. She put her hand back to her nose to inhale the lavender scent on her gloves. She’d have to thank Marie with an extra abundance tonight for always putting the sachets in her dresser.
“Would you like to sit for a moment?” He motioned to two bales of hay sitting in the corner. “Allow me.” He took off his cloak and laid it over one of the bales for her. “Now there won’t be any chance of mussing your beautiful gown. Please…sit.”
Faith smiled up at him, admiring his blue coat with elegant, brocade trim. “Thank you.” Taking a seat, she felt bad for him sacrificing his outer cloak. It was still quite chilly in the barn.
“I would love to know more about you, Mrs. Jackson—I mean Faith.” He appeared to be a bit nervous. “I mean…George has told me a lot about you over the years, but I am afraid ‘tis mainly from when you were much younger.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I can well imagine the stories you heard. I was an interesting child. Precocious is the word that George used a lot, along with many others that weren’t quite so complimentary.” She laid her hands in her lap. “Poor George, he had his hands full as my guardian all those years.”
“But he loved every bit of it. I’m sure you know that.” Matthew leaned in an inch closer and cocked an eyebrow.
A tingle raced up Faith’s spine. “I do. I never had any siblings, and George was better than any big brother I could have imagined.”
“He’s an exemplary man. Someone I look up to.”
“I’m sure. I have never met a better man, other than my father, of course.”
“I would have loved to have known your father. George looked up to him as well.” Matthew leaned closer and put his elbows on his knees. “Would you tell me more about your parents?”
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. It had been a long time since she’d spoken of them. “Would you mind if I asked you to wait for another time? I find myself quite unprepared for the emotion at the moment.” As she peered into his eyes, she saw concern that she’d never seen in a man’s eyes before. Other than George’s.
“Of course. My apologies for bringing up such a delicate matter.”
It was her turn to lay a hand over his. “No need to apologize. One day I’d love to share with you about them. But I probably need to prepare myself for it.” She gave him a small smile. “Would you like to tell me about your family?”
“There’s not much to tell. My parents died of the small pox when I was surveying with George for Lord Fairfax. I have an older sister who is married and lives in Plymouth. She has two children whom I love to dote on.”
“My family is from Plymouth originally. How fascinating.” Faith had been longing to take a trip there and see her family’s history.
“Ah, yes. My sister—Amelia—told me she knew of some Lyttons. Years ago when I was sharing stories from George. When did your family come to Plymouth?” His genuine eagerness to learn of her family made her heart soar.
“They were passengers on the Mayflower and the Speedwell.” She hadn’t told the story in far too long. Almost giddy with the joy of sharing it with someone, she sat up a little straighter and couldn’t help the huge smile.
“You don’t say. Fascinating. So they weren’t married when they came ove
r?”
She shook her head. “In fact, they’d never met. My father told me it was a story passed down through the generations how my great-great-great-grandfather was one of the Strangers while my great-great-great-grandmother was one of the Saints. They started off on separate vessels, and then when the Speedwell could no longer make the journey, they spent the voyage to America together on the Mayflower. Mary Elizabeth Chapman started a journal on that trip, and it’s been passed down for all these generations.”
“So I take it you’ve read it?” Matthew inched closer again, his eyes alight with curiosity.
“I have. And even better than that, ‘tis one of my most prized possessions.”
“Am I to assume that they fell in love on the trip? I’ve heard that was one of the worst voyages in history.”
Faith couldn’t help but laugh. “I dare say.” She shook her head. “From the details in her journal, ‘tis amazing to me that any of them survived the trip. But yes, they fell in love during the trip over, and then she stuck by his side when he was accused of being a spy. Mary Elizabeth told everyone that William Lytton was too honorable a man to be a spy.” The memory made her so proud of her ancestry. Why hadn’t she gone to Plymouth before now?
The smile fell from Matthew’s face. He opened his mouth and then shut it. His expression clouded, and he stood to his feet and paced away from her. “I suppose you think that being a spy is not an honorable thing.” His voice was soft and sad.
His words struck her heart like someone had hit her in the chest. “Oh, Matthew. That is not at all what I meant.” She stood as well and walked over to him. When would she ever learn to think things through before she spoke? “Don’t you see? We’re both spies. But this is a different situation. This is to aid our fellow man. William was accused of being a spy in a way that would hurt the people he loved.”
He turned and looked down at her. “I am not sure you understand how difficult it is for me to pretend to be someone I am not. I know this is for the greater good, but it feels like I’m lying all the time.”
Faith had struggled with the same feelings when she’d first been asked to carry the messages. “You know, I have had quite a few doubts myself, and I haven’t been at this as long as you. Matthew, what you’re doing is a very honorable thing. Your goal is to save as many lives as you can, and to keep them from the shedding of innocent blood. We are fighting for freedom.”
“I know that. I do.” He reached out and took her hands. “I’m sorry.” Releasing her hands, he stepped back. “That was inappropriate of me. I just didn’t realize how much it meant to me—what you thought. That is…what your opinion of me is …” He lifted a hand to his forehead. “I’m sorry. I am making a mess of things.”
Faith led him back to the hay bales and sat down. “The way I see it, we are like the spies in the Old Testament. Joshua and Caleb in the book of Numbers. They had to spy out the land. And then there was Rahab, the woman who lied on their behalf to save their lives. She knew they were from the Lord. I am not saying that ‘tis right to lie, but sometimes what is required of us is more difficult than we could ever imagine and will put us in situations that we never would have guessed.”
Matthew nodded. “I haven’t doubted for a moment that what I was called to do was the right thing. But hearing your voice there a moment ago…I realized how much it did matter to me—at least it mattered what you thought of me.” He shook his head and laughed. “Let’s get back to your family, I’d love to hear the rest of the story.”
She understood all too well what Matthew was saying. Even though they’d only known each other a short while, she cared deeply about the opinion he held of her. But it would be much better to stay on safer topics. Her heart was already inclined to think too much of Matthew. “Well, he was a carpenter, and they stayed and helped build Plymouth and had twelve children and forty-two grandchildren. My great-grandfather was one of those grandchildren.”
“How fascinating. Do you stay in touch with much of your family?”
A wave of sadness washed over her. “My mother tried to correspond with as many as she could, and sadly, after she died, I was too young to keep up with all of them. A lot of my parents’ books were burned in the fire that killed them, and so I don’t have addresses or even names.”
“We can fix that. My sister knows a few of them—or at least she did—and I am certain with a little effort, we could reconnect you with your family.”
“Really? You wouldn’t mind asking her?”
“Not at all. It sounds like great fun. An adventure to find your family.” Matthew smiled and took her hand. “It will be something joyous in the midst of this madness.”
“I would love that.” She put a hand to her chest. The thought of reconnecting with her family—even in these tumultuous times—gave her heart a little jolt. And all because this man cared.
She studied him for a minute and just smiled back at him. Here was a man that didn’t seem to care one whit about her money or her inheritance, but cared about her. He wanted to know about her. And her family. What a nice gentleman. “You have given me something to look forward to, Mr. Weber.”
“ ‘Tis Matthew, remember?” He stood and bowed. “And I think it’s you who has given me something to look forward to.”
The look in his eyes stirred something deep inside. It was way too early for her to be feeling anything of the sort. Wasn’t it? Trying to diffuse the charged air between them, Faith laughed, “I think we’ve already broken one of the rules.”
His brow furrowed and he sat down again. “Whatever do you mean?”
“One of the rules they gave me about delivering messages.”
One eyebrow shot up. “Oh, pray tell. What is this rule?”
“Keep the drop-offs short.”
Matthew laughed. “Well, yes, I am guessing we have broken that one.” He stood and reached for her hand. “And I hope we break it again. Until next time, Mrs. Jackson.” He kissed her glove-covered knuckles, and it sent a shiver up her spine.
She stood and hoped the dim light covered the blush she felt creep up her cheeks. Picking up his cloak, she brushed it off and handed it to him. How tortuous to see him leave when she longed to spend more time with him.
With his greatcoat back around his shoulders, he turned as if to say something else, but instead he reached for her hand again and then squeezed.
Faith wished she could hold on to his hand, but that would be quite forward so she released it and gave him a smile.
He blew out the candle and slipped into the night.
“Yes…until next time.” She whispered the words and hoped there would be another message very soon.
Anthony looked around his office and tapped his fingers on his desk. Things were not progressing like he’d hoped. His recent visit to Governor Gage revealed a flaw in the British thinking. Gage was unsympathetic to the Patriot cause and the independence movement. He may have made great strides in diplomacy, but the one thing he should be paying more attention to would end up being his demise. Of that, Anthony was certain.
As of the moment, he wasn’t sure which side would win. But one thing he was certain of. He would be on the winning side. He would make sure of it. Whichever that may be. The British had a massive amount of soldiers and supplies at their aid. But the Patriots were tired of the way things were. They were restless and prepared to do whatever it took.
Understanding both sides was the only way to stay ahead of the game. For now, it behooved him to play the part to the British ruling class, and behind the scenes, he would find out all he could from the Patriot movement. He would get what he wanted. No matter how it played out, he would be the victor.
According to Governor Gage, the British were planning an attack on the rebellion’s arms. Maybe he could use that information to get him into the good graces of those in leadership with the Patriots. He knew those silly women’s meetings that Faith hosted were not just to make clothes for the poor. Maybe if he showed his own c
oncern, he could convince her they were on the same side and should work together. If she truly was a Patriot. He’d have to investigate this further.
He just needed her attention. Once he gained that, he was certain he could convince her that theirs would be an advantageous marriage.
His masculinity and stunning clothes would certainly draw her inquisitive eye. She was smart and would know what was good for her.
Indeed—Anthony Jameson was the best for her.
It wouldn’t take much time and then she’d be begging him to marry her.
And then her fortune would be his.
Monday, March 6, 1775
Faith sat in the red tapestry chair that was always her chosen spot in the parlor when she was alone. She’d read her Bible many times sitting in this very chair and had spent uncountable hours kneeling beside it in prayer. But most of the time for her meetings with the women, she liked to lead the meetings from the middle of the group. Today she needed the comfort of her favorite chair.
Lavonia entered the room in a lovely gown of silvery-blue that accented her white hair in a very becoming manner. The woman always had such style. She raised an eyebrow at Faith as Clayton announced her. “My dear, I can tell that something is amiss this evening.” Her eyebrow almost met her hairline it raised so high with questions.
“Oh my …” Lydia gasped when she entered the room. “To what do we owe this change?” She tucked a curl of her brown hair under her lace day cap.
The other ladies made similar comments, and it made Faith wonder if she had been so habitual that she became predictable. That wasn’t her. At least it hadn’t been. What had happened to her?
When the ladies were all seated and offered refreshment, Faith nodded to Clayton, and he closed the parlor doors behind him.
“I would like to do our reading today a little differently. Psalm 136 has really touched me. The end of each phrase is the same—like an answer to a difficult question, the answer will always be the same. His mercy endureth for ever. So as I read, let us all join in saying, ‘His mercy endureth for ever.’ “
The Patriot Bride Page 7