If she didn’t know better, she’d think the man was a spy for the Loyalists. But it was clear that he was all bluster and smoke. Seeking to make himself look better in her eyes to win her attention. But even if that was all there was to it, he could still be dangerous. Something wasn’t right about Anthony Jameson.
Either the man was a fool, or he would get caught in his duplicity.
And Faith did not want to be anywhere near the man. Ever again.
The ladies soon began to arrive, and after several cups of tea and a lengthy retelling of all that had transpired, Faith was exhausted. Lydia, Claudia, and Mary appeared shocked, but Louise, Ruth, Sally, and Esther all looked afraid. When Faith looked at Lavonia…Well, the only word to describe her friend’s expression would be horrified.
At least Faith knew she wasn’t alone in all this. And that her feelings weren’t an overreaction. But what could she do?
Lavonia set her teacup down and wiped at her skirt. “I cannot begin to tell you how much this disturbs me, Faith. And while I think it is imperative that we all remain calm and sensible about this matter, I do believe that actions need to be taken to protect Faith. And the cause. Mr. Jameson does not seem to be trustworthy on any count.”
The room erupted in chatter as all the ladies began speaking at once. Overwhelming weariness washed over Faith. More than anything she’d ever felt. Why on earth was Anthony Jameson so fixated on her? She didn’t have time for this.
Lavonia jumped from her seat. “Faith, you have gone completely white.”
“I do not feel well all of a sudden. I think I need to lie down.” Faith stood, the room spun, then everything went black.
Matthew snuck into Ben’s house after midnight. Thankfully, Charles—the butler—knew him well and didn’t raise a ruckus. As he made his way up to Ben’s room, he felt bad for having to wake the old man.
“Ben?” Matthew tried to keep his voice to a whisper.
“What?!” Franklin sat straight up in his bed. Blinking rapidly, he reached for the candlestick by his bed and raised it over his head. “Who is there?”
“Put the candle down, Ben. You are not being robbed. It is me. Matthew.” He took off his cloak and hat and slouched into the chair by the bed.
“Good gracious, Matthew. You about scared me to death.” Ben wiped a hand down his face. “Has something happened to William?” A bit of sadness covered his features.
“No. Do not worry, my friend. William is fine. But I find myself in a serious quandary.”
Ben fluffed his pillow behind him and sat up a little straighter. “Go on. How may I help?”
“First, I must warn you, it is about Faith.”
“Your messenger?”
“Yes.”
“Ah. I see.” Ben put on his glasses. “You care for her a great deal, do you not?”
How did he know that? “Yes. That is why I am concerned.”
“For her safety?”
“Yes, but no. If I may continue, please.” Matthew quirked an eyebrow at his mentor.
“Of course. I will remain silent.” Ben closed his mouth and sucked his lips in.
He couldn’t help it, the silly face made him laugh and tension eased from Matthew’s shoulders. “We are scheduled to meet every other day now, and we should have met five nights ago.”
Ben held up a finger. “Excuse me. You need to clarify. Five nights ago, meaning what day exactly? It is the middle of the night you see, and thus we have already begun the day of the tenth.”
Matthew looked to the ceiling. “It would have been the fifth. We were supposed to meet on the fifth.”
“All right. Now that it is clear, you may continue.” Ben waved a hand at him.
“Thank you. How kind.” His mentor might want to smack him for his sarcastic remark, but Matthew was thankful for the keen mind and listening ear. “Faith did not show at our appointed time.”
His friend’s eyebrows raised. “What did you do?”
“I waited for two hours, and she never came. That has never happened before. The rule is that if the other does not come, we still continue to meet at the designated times and places just in case there was some mishap. But now I have missed a meeting, and I am worried about her, and she will most likely worry about me.”
“So exactly why are you here? In Philadelphia?” Ben tried to sit up straighter. “I am not sure I understand the chain of events.”
Matthew leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “She did not show up on Friday—the fifth. Then the next morning, the sixth, I met with the group of Loyalists—William’s group—and they gave me a new task. Since I have a history with George Washington, they have asked me to attempt to come and get into his good graces and attend the Continental Congress or at least get them information about it. In essence, they want me to spy.”
“Oh, gracious.” Ben slumped. “That is very ambitious of them, thinking you could attend the Congress. That is, of course, since you are a Loyalist—er, pretending to be a Loyalist.” He shook his head as if to clear it.
“Exactly. They had a carriage ready for me immediately, and I have been traveling here ever since. Of course then I missed our scheduled meeting on the seventh—Sunday—and missed last night’s meeting as well. Faith will most certainly think that something horrible has happened to me. That is, if she is all right and something horrible has not happened to her!”
“Lower your voice, Matthew. No need to alert the neighbors.” The older man straightened up in the bed again and smoothed the covers. “I understand your concern. First, for Faith. And then for this position you are in. You are in essence a spy being asked to now act as a spy for the side you are spying on. It’s confusing just to wrap my mind around it.”
“What should I do? I mean, somehow I have to get word to Faith, but how should I do it without anyone finding out?”
“I have an idea.” Ben smiled. “I have this friend. You could say she is a middle-aged widow—or at least she was. Perhaps she could have her daughter write Faith a letter?”
Matthew shook his head. “Dogood? Really, Ben?” He had read all of Ben’s letters to the paper that he wrote under the name of Silence Dogood—the middle-aged widow.
“Well, it was just an idea. You have to admit it worked before.”
“But I doubt Faith will even know anything about those letters. So she will have no reason to recognize the name.”
“Humph. Well, that just goes to show how old I am.” Ben shrugged his shoulders.
Matthew snapped his fingers. “But you are a brilliant old man. You have just given me an idea. I am going to need you to go see someone very special.”
“Anything for you, my boy.” Ben rubbed his hands together.
Wednesday, May 17, 1775
Boston
Faith paced in her parlor. After seven days bedridden from some horrific illness the doctor wanted to call influenza, she was beside herself. Forever thankful that it wasn’t the dreaded smallpox, she’d still prayed in earnest about her plight.
She’d missed four designated meetings with Matthew. As soon as she was strong enough, she went to meet him, but now he’d missed two. But did he think that something had happened to her and so he hadn’t tried for a while? How could she contact him and let him know that she was all right?
They were supposed to meet again later that evening, and she began to wonder if he would be there. What if something horrible had happened to him? What could she do?
The more she thought about him, the more she realized that she was more concerned about the man than the mission. Dare she call it love?
Putting a hand to her chest, she drew a deep breath. It’d been so long since she’d felt romantic love. She’d been so young when she fell in love with Joseph. Their courtship was full of dances, fancy parties, and festive occasions. He sent her gifts and flowers and showered her with compliments. They’d never even had a fight—which was quite miraculous since Faith knew she was far too opinionated. But they’d ne
ver had a chance to argue since their week-old marriage ended with his death. He’d been sent back to battle the day after their wedding.
The memories were lovely. Much like a fairy tale.
But life wasn’t a fairy tale. This she knew all too well. Loss had been a large portion of her life—thank the good Lord it had made her stronger.
Matthew’s face came to mind again. Oh, Matthew.
What had happened to him? Wracking her brain, she wondered how to contact him. Should she get a message to George? Mr. Lewis? Or would that compromise the mission at hand? No. She couldn’t be so careless. Both of those men had too much at stake as well.
A knock at the front door stopped her pacing. If it was that odious Mr. Jameson again, she would run away. Or throw something at him.
Neither option was befitting her station or her age. Which was sad. The man might benefit from something hitting him in the face.
She put a hand to her forehead. If Matthew knew the thoughts that sometimes went through her head …
Clayton entered the parlor with a lady following behind. “You have a visitor, ma’am. Mrs. Elizabeth Dogood.”
Dogood? That was odd. Where had she heard that name before? And why did Clayton pronounce it in such a way? “Good afternoon, Mrs. Dogood.”
“Good afternoon.” The lady curtsied.
Clayton gave Faith an interesting look over the visiting lady’s head before he backed out of the room and pulled the door closed.
“Mrs. Jackson.” The woman walked up very close to Faith and then looked around. “There is no one else in here?”
Faith narrowed her eyes. “No.”
“So it is safe to speak?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head. What was this lady about?
“I am Matthew’s sister.”
Faith gasped and grabbed the woman’s hands. “Oh, praise the Lord above.”
“And my name is not Dogood, but that is the name I traveled under, and I was told I must keep up my ruse.”
Faith nodded. “So Matthew is well?”
Elizabeth—or whatever her name was—nodded and smiled. A smile very similar to her brother’s. “Yes. Quite. But it is a long story to tell. He is extremely worried about you.”
Faith let out a heavy sigh and put a hand to her chest. “I had a horrible illness for the length of a week. And I missed …” Wait. Could she trust this woman? What if it was a trick? She clamped her mouth closed and stepped back.
Her guest nodded. “I understand. Perhaps this will explain.” She pulled a letter out of her pocket.
Faith took it and opened the seal. The handwriting wasn’t familiar. But the code within the letter was. After she read through it twice—making sure that she understood and didn’t miss anything—she hugged her visitor. “My apologies.”
“There is nothing to apologize for, Mrs. Jackson.” She looked weary.
“Goodness, yes, there is. You must be dead on your feet. Let me get you some refreshment.” Faith pointed to a chair. “Please have a seat. I will ring for Sylvia.”
After her guest had been seated, Faith rang the bell. Clayton appeared immediately. “We would like some tea, please. And perhaps some sandwiches and teacakes? Let Sylvia know we have a guest.”
“Of course, ma’am.” He closed the door again.
“Now please, tell me all about Matthew.” Faith scooted her chair closer.
“I cannot say much, but he is fine. He is in Philadelphia at the Continental Congress meetings.”
That puzzled Faith. “I am sure I do not understand. Those are …”
Mrs. Dogood nodded. “Yes, they are Patriot—Colonial meetings.” She leaned in and looked around again. She motioned for Faith to get closer and whispered, “You see the Loyalists sent him on a mission to spy on the Congress.”
Faith raised her eyebrows and began to laugh. The irony of the situation.
“I may not be able to speak much about Matthew’s current condition or work, but I can tell you all about him from a sister’s point of view.” She raised an eyebrow and gave Faith a smirk.
“Now that sounds very interesting indeed. Can you stay awhile?”
“I would love to. I hear my brother is quite fond of you, Mrs. Jackson.”
Faith felt a blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. “Truly?” She cleared her throat. “And please, call me Faith.”
“Then you must call me Amelia. That’s my real name, and I hope that we will know each other for a long, long time. Because my brother is quite taken with you.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Matthew’s sister was a delight. Once Faith discovered that her name was actually Amelia, she realized it fit the sweet woman perfectly. Small in stature—especially in comparison to the broad shoulders and exceptional height of Matthew—but with the same coloring as her brother.
“Do I need to call you Elizabeth in front of Clayton?”
“Yes, please.” Amelia took a sip of her tea. “That way if any of the staff talk with others, they can say that your visitor was Elizabeth Dogood.”
Faith narrowed her eyes again as she lifted her own cup to her lips. Where had she heard that name? After a long sip of tea, she was still puzzled. “Why does the name Dogood sound oddly familiar?”
Amelia laughed. Setting down her cup and saucer, she leaned in again. “You really do not know?”
Shaking her head, Faith smiled.
“Benjamin Franklin wrote letters to be published in his brother’s paper decades ago since his brother would not allow him to write anything. He used the name ‘Silence Dogood’ and stated that she was a middle-aged widow.” Amelia chuckled. “In some circles they still receive quite the chain of gossip.”
It didn’t make sense. “I am still confused, I am afraid. What does that have to do with Matthew?”
“Ben has been close to Matthew for many years. Matthew looks up to him like a father figure—a mentor.”
Faith blinked. What was she missing?
“Ben is the one who sent me.” Amelia looked puzzled. “Benjamin Franklin. Have you never read any of his writing?”
“Oh my! Goodness, that explains it. I was wondering how on earth Matthew had gotten word to you. Well, Benjamin Franklin…the Benjamin Franklin. Of course, my father loved Poor Richard’s Almanack and…um…whatever that magazine was that he wrote for the plantations.” She took a deep breath. “I just had no idea that Matthew was close to him. My apologies. I had not put the pieces of the puzzle together.”
“Ben is eager to meet you, my dear.”
She put a hand to her throat and raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Indeed. He said that whoever has caught Matthew’s attention must be very special.”
Dare she hope that Matthew cared for her as much as she did him? The hope that had begun to grow in her heart now blossomed into a great swell.
“I do not mean to embarrass you. But I do want you to know that I am very pleased with his choice.” Amelia patted Faith’s hand.
The feelings that rolled through her were new and exciting. What she wouldn’t give to be able to see Matthew today. But she had to wait. Neither one of them was safe to declare anything until this horrible conflict was over. “Did he say when Matthew will return? When I should look to meet with him again?” Three messages were waiting to be delivered. She never knew how they got there or who brought them, but they showed up in her sewing basket by the fire, waiting to be coded and delivered. When she’d taken on the job, one of the rules was not to ask questions. While it was a bit eerie at times to think of someone coming into her home to deliver the messages, she knew it was for the cause.
Faith was the only one allowed to code the messages sent to Matthew. There were plenty of other missives that the other ladies coded. But they were all notes going to known Patriots. Not a Patriot spy posing as a Loyalist. She knew that her job was the most dangerous, but that never made her want to quit.
“On the twenty-fifth of this month.”
Only eight more days. Faith could wait that long, now that she knew Matthew was all right.
Amelia invited her to Plymouth and said she would love to help Faith connect with her family. Then she shared some comical stories of Matthew from their childhood.
All too soon, Amelia stood. “I am afraid, it is time I bid you farewell. It is a good distance back to Plymouth, and my driver will be anxious to get back tonight. It takes awhile to cross the barricade outside the city. But I have special papers to give them.” She winked. “Good to have friends in high places.”
Faith stood and walked her new friend to the door where Clayton waited. “I hope to see you soon…Elizabeth.”
“And I you.”
The Continental Congress had discussed more than George had anticipated. But that’s what had to be done since the British forced the Colonies’ hand. As he sat in his uniform in the back of the room, he thought ahead to what was to come. It would probably be some time before he would be able to return to Mount Vernon. That dealt a harsh blow to his heart, but it was what had to be done. The path before them would be harsh. Up against the strongest army and navy in the world.
But it had to be born. On the shoulders of farmers and carpenters and every man, woman, and child who loved this land and called it home. The Colonies weren’t made for the monarchy. They were built on the quest for freedom. Granted the Separatists who’d come on the Mayflower simply wanted religious freedom, but didn’t freedom cover it all? Freedom to all for worship, work, and trade. What they needed was a good form of government. That was for the people. Made up by the people. Not a king or a queen or prince who’d only ever known a life of ease. Regular, ordinary, hardworking people.
His thoughts turned to Martha. Strong and capable, she would handle things at the farm, along with his servants. He would miss her greatly, for certainly this conflict would keep him away, but she knew that. She supported him, and a husband couldn’t ask for anything more.
Then there was Faith. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find her out on the battlefield beside him. And she could probably win the war too. He shook his head and smiled. It was already dangerous enough that she was carrying messages in Boston when the British troops had control. But deep down, he knew she could handle herself.
The Patriot Bride Page 12