"McKinley," she gasped.
She didn't look like the type any of the McKinley men would choose for companionship, but Jeremiah guessed that if anyone knew her, it would have to be Jason. He stood in the doorway, blocking her way in.
"Mist'r Jase ain't here."
Eileen shook her head, struggling to breathe evenly. "No, no, this is about Jason. The British. He's been taken. I must see his father."
"This way." Quickly, Jeremiah led her to Morgan.
They interrupted a lecture as they walked quickly into the study. Morgan had given several since the British had left the previous day. Aaron had endured them all wordlessly. He knew there was no reasoning with his father, no explaining his methods, so Aaron had ceased to even try.
Morgan looked up as Jeremiah entered the room, the girl trailing behind him. He was surprised that Jeremiah would allow someone of her caliber into the house without first consulting him.
"Well?" he demanded.
In the face of his displeasure, Eileen momentarily lost the use of her tongue. "She has a message about Mast'r Jase," Jeremiah explained.
Both sets of eyes turned toward the girl. "Speak up. What is it?" Morgan studied her carefully. "Has he gotten you into the family way?" he demanded bluntly.
Eileen shook her head. "Would that it were that simple, sir. They've got him."
"Who's got him?" Morgan's shaggy brows narrowed as he looked at the girl.
"The British. The soldiers overran the docks at midnight and caught him." She saw the color drain from the older man's face as he and his son exchanged looks. "They took Jason prisoner."
Aaron stepped forward, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, fixing her in place lest she suddenly wanted to flee. "Who sent you?"
She hesitated only a moment. Sam didn't like his name bandied about. But they wouldn't believe her unless she told them. "Sam. He seen them." She licked her lips. They felt so parched. "He heard one of the soldiers say they were taking him to General Wallace's camp in Norfolk."
"But Wallace was just here," Aaron protested. Had the man been planning this all along? "Are you sure?"
She nodded her head vigorously. "Sure as I'm standing here. Sam heard every word of it."
Morgan turned on Aaron, enraged. "What did you tell them?" he shouted angrily, his face turning red.
Aaron was dumbstruck. How could Morgan think he'd betray his own brother. "Nothing!"
"You were thicker than thieves with them." Guilt racked Morgan. Had he sent his own son to his death? "Where are the pieces of silver you got for selling your brother to them?"
Aaron couldn't take any more. Forgetting the others in the room, he raised his voice to his father and showed fury for the first time. "Now you listen to me, old man. All my life you've done nothing but belittle me. You never saw me as being capable of anything worthwhile. I began to see myself in the image you cast —lazy, slow, and stupid." His fists clenched at his sides, he stifled the urge to hit something. "You never had the decency to think I could lead my own life or make an intelligent decision. You chose my life for me and my wife." He thought of Lucinda, of what she had come to mean to him. "That, fortunately, turned out well, but not because of you! You would never listen to a word I had to say. You didn't even allow me to take charge of my own son's education.
"But God damn you, sir, I would never betray my brother to anyone —to God or the devil —even though you've set us at odds for your own amusement for years."
Morgan raised his hand, ready to strike. "Why you young — "
"Go ahead." Aaron stuck out his chin. "Hit me. Call me all the names you want. You always have, but that won't change a word I've said. Now, no matter what you may think of me, we've got to get to Jason and free him." Aaron turned to the girl. "Are you sure they've taken him to Wallace's camp?"
She nodded her head solemnly. "Oh, yes, sir."
"And that's in Norfolk?" Why would the British want to camp there? Wallace liked what luxuries he could find, and the town was only a shell after the fire.
"Just outside." She looked at him in supplication. "Sam's afraid they'll be hanging him soon. Please hurry."
"Hanging who?"
The others turned to see Krystyna standing in the doorway. She had been drawn by the loud, raised voices thundering through the house. They'd interrupted her lesson with Christopher. She wouldn't have intruded, but Jason's welfare had preyed on her mind night and day. She had been afraid that this had something to do with him. One look at their faces told her she'd been right.
"They've arrested Jason," Morgan told her.
An iciness passed over Krystyna, and for a moment, the room disappeared. But she fought the darkness that threatened to envelop her. Gripping the doorjamb, she asked, "Where is he?"
"Norfolk," Aaron answered. "Wallace has him."
"We have to free him!" It never occurred to her that she wouldn't be allowed to join in the effort.
Aaron could see what she was thinking. It was there, in her eyes. "Krystyna, now please. This is no time to — "
" — argue," she finished. "I believe I am better acquainted with the lieutenant than the rest of you. He owes me a very large favor. Perhaps we can use that to our advantage." She looked from one man to the other, her eyes challenging them to refuse her.
Aaron thought quickly. She was right. "All right, you'll come."
Morgan looked at him in surprise. He wasn't accustomed to being usurped in this fashion. "Aaron, I make — "
"The decisions?" Aaron guessed. He shook his head. "You'll only antagonize them, Father. You'll demand, and we are not in a position to make demands. I can try to reason with them."
"And plead with them?" Morgan scorned.
Aaron's expression froze. "If need be, yes. This is Jason's life we're talking about, not a crop that'll grow back next year if it fails this season." He turned to Krystyna. "How soon can you be ready?"
She didn't even need to consider. "In no more than twenty minutes. I need one of your son's outfits." Within six months, Christopher had grown to be almost as tall as she.
"Certainly, but why?"
She thought of what her father had said not that long ago. "Traveling as a woman can be dangerous and could make me conspicuous. We will have enough to worry about." Quickly, she went to rejoin Christopher.
Aaron reached into his vest pocket and took out a gold coin. He pressed it into Eileen's hand. "Thank you. You've been most kind."
"Oh, thank you, governor." She bobbed her strawberry blond head. "You, too, sir." She nodded at Morgan as she backed out of the room. Turning, she hurried away, afraid that Aaron would change his mind about the money.
"Jeremiah, will you come with me?" Aaron saw that the dark man looked at him quizzically. He had always ordered Jeremiah before, never requested. "You're the ablest man I know, and there'll be need of you."
Jeremiah merely nodded his head. "For Mast'r Jase." His meaning was clear.
Aaron knew he couldn't expect loyalty where none was merited. "Get the fastest horses we have —and a change of clothes for Jason. I don't expect he gave up easily."
The tall man was out of the room before Aaron finished the sentence.
"And since you're giving orders, what of me?" Morgan asked with a trace of sarcasm.
Aaron didn't know whether he had earned his father's censure or admiration. It was too late to care. "You, Father, can stay here — and pray, if you still know how."
"I know how," Morgan said. "One of my prayers has just been answered."
Father and son looked at one another for a long moment. It was the first time Aaron could remember not seeing disappointment in those gray eyes. He'd been wrong. It did matter.
"Well, what are you standing around for?" Morgan gestured toward the door. "Get ready. You've a rescue mission to lead. I don't expect to see you come home without him."
"I won't."
It was a promise Aaron intended to keep.
Krystyna struggled into Christopher's clo
thing, trying to occupy her mind with her preparations. But fear kept ambushing her thoughts. What if they were too late? What if Jason was already . . . ?
No.
She wasn't going to think about that possibility. Jason might be hurt, but if she believed him to be still a prisoner, then he would be.
He had to be.
She stuffed her hair under the tri-cornered hat Christopher had proudly presented to her. Taking a deep breath, she went outside, closing the cabin door behind her.
It was raining, a soft, gentle summer rain. The drops mixed with the ones on her face. She touched her cheek as she fought to keep her emotions and fears in check.
"I love you, Jason," she whispered. "And I shall not lose you."
With the vow on her lips, Krystyna ran for the house.
Chapter Thirty Five
Within the half hour, they were on the road, riding quickly for Norfolk. Aaron was amazed at the way Krystyna rode. When she'd asked to come, he'd had misgivings, had been afraid that she would slow them down. He found he had to ride hard just to keep up with her.
The dark clouds had multiplied, blanketing the sky in somberness. Then the gentle summer rain had given way to a heavy shower, and they were all soaked to the skin. But there was no time to find shelter and wait it out. Minutes might mean the difference between life and death for Jason.
The rain had finally stopped, and the first light of day was upon them when Aaron broke the silence. "My brother's a lucky man," he said to Krystyna.
She blinked, unsure that she had even heard the words. "I do not understand." A cough was welling up in her chest. Her clothes, wet and clammy, clung uncomfortably to her skin.
"I'm not quite the fool everyone thinks I am," Aaron answered. "I do observe things." And he had seen the way Jason looked at Krystyna.
Despite the situation and the ache in her bones, Krystyna smiled. "I have never thought you a fool, Aaron. Only, perhaps, a little confused."
Aaron laughed. There was no arguing that point.
The forest outside of Norfolk gave way to a grove. The trail to the outskirts of the town was marked with mud. They saw the wagons first, the homes of the camp followers, the mistresses and laundresses of the soldiers. Theirs was a way of life marked by poverty and hard times, with just enough gaiety in it to see the women through from one scrap of happiness to the next.
As they rode past the wagons, Krystyna could feel more than one set of curious eyes peering out, watching their progress.
Her nerves felt taut.
Most of the townspeople had fled before the invading army at Christmastime. Now the British were headquartered in the buildings that had remained unscathed by the ensuing fires. There were signs of several divisions camped in the area.
A girl, not more than fifteen, walked by slowly, swaying her hips in a deliberate invitation to any soldier who had the time and the money to buy a little affection, a few hours of lovemaking.
"Excuse me," Aaron called to her.
The girl turned and looked at him expectantly before she approached. She placed her small hand on Aaron's thigh and gazed up at him with eyes that had long lost their luster. "What can I do for you, sir?"
She could be my daughter, Aaron thought, pity mingling with disgust. "Can you tell me where I might find Lieutenant St. John Lawrence? He'd be with General Wallace."
The girl withdrew her hand, her annoyance showing as she pulled her dirty pink shawl tighter around her shoulders. "I don't have time to keep track of all of them." She began to step away when the shining gold coin in Aaron's hand caught her attention. A knowing smile curved her lips. "Well, why didn't you put it that way in the first place?" she cried, snatching the coin from him. She bit down on it, winced, and then grinned, satisfied.
"There," she pointed to a long, squat building that had served until recently as the town council's meeting house. "He'd be in there, like as not. Wallace stays there, he does."
She scurried off quickly, holding her prize in a tight-fisted hand.
"I had better go in first. Alone." Krystyna stared at the building. "Perhaps if I could talk to John in private . . ."
She didn't finish, but Aaron guessed at her meaning. "All right. We'll try that first. Be careful."
"Always." Krystyna dismounted and handed her reins to Jeremiah.
Her heart hammered in her ears as she approached the building. Would John listen to her? Or would he expose her and perhaps have her imprisoned as well? It occurred to her that she didn't know him very well and had nothing to go on but instinct. The same instinct that had prompted her to save him in the first place.
"I would like to see Lieutenant Lawrence," she told the soldier posted at the door. The man looked at her coldly. "I have a message for him from a lady friend of his."
The skeptical look remained. "I'll take it." The soldier put out his hand.
She shook her head. "It is not written. I was told that it was for his ears only."
They stood, at an impasse for a moment. But then the soldier relented. He didn't want to incur the lieutenant's wrath. Lawrence seemed amiable enough, but you never knew with officers.
"Lift your cape and turn about," the soldier ordered. "I want to make sure you're not hiding something dangerous on your person."
Krystyna did as she was told, slowly turning about, her heart pounding in her throat. Finally, the soldier waved her on, indicating Sin-Jin's door.
She knocked twice before there was an answer: "Come in."
Sin-Jin was busy staring at a poorly drawn map, trying to visualize their next campaign. Campaign. What a strange word to use for the slaughter of one's fellow man, he thought.
He hardly looked up as the door closed, but felt eyes upon him. When there was only silence, he glanced up. His mouth dropped open slightly as he recognized her.
"Krystyna." Was she really here, or was he just imagining her? But if he were, she wouldn't be in boy's clothing. He rose to his feet. Amused, he lifted her hat and watched her hair tumble down. "What are you doing here?" And then he remembered. Jason. "Oh yes, you've come about the prisoner."
"Then he's alive?" She offered up silent words of thanksgiving before Sin-Jin answered. Sweet Jesu, they weren't too late.
He heard the relief in her voice and envied his prisoner. "Quite. He's beaten two of the guards while trying to escape last night."
Concern etched her face. "Is he hurt?"
"Yes. One of the men shot him when he was captured at the docks. But it was a clean hit, and the physician dressed it. Don't worry, we're not barbarians." Or are we? he wondered. Despite all our polite words and precise rules.
She chose her words carefully. "You once said you owed me a life. I have come to collect that."
Sin-Jin came around the desk. "No," he corrected. "I once said I owed you my life and that it is yours forever if you so choose." He took her hands in his and studied her closely. "How much does this American mean to you?"
She raised her head slightly. "He rescued me once." The words weren't the ones he expected to hear. "I owe him as you owe me."
"Your words are purposely vague." He smiled into her eyes. "But I see through you." He let go of her hands, but still allowed himself to drink in the sweet fragrance that clung to her. "Tell me, what are you prepared to do to save him?"
She hadn't expected this from him. "Anything I have to," she answered, her eyes never wavering from his.
Sin-Jin smiled. "Will you allow me to take you to my bed?"
"Yes."
He laughed at the expression on her face. "It wouldn't be that odious, I promise you."
Her anger rose, a sharp prick against her conscience. She had begun to think of him as a friend. She'd been wrong. "It is not that. I just do not make a practice of getting my way by…”
Sin-Jin shook his head, stopping her words. "I know." He sighed. "And more the fool I for not pressing you to keep your word. But I will not take you this way, in exchange for another man's life."
"T
hen you will not help?" Her heart sank, even as her mind raced, seeking another way.
"I didn't say that. Your Jason is not a desperate criminal, although I believe two of my men might think so. He is, for the Crown, an example to be used to frighten the rest of the Colonists into trading only with us. Jason is really rather unimportant. Except to you." He sat on the desk, his eyes on her face. What he wouldn't give to have her feel that way about him. "I shall see what I can do about setting your man free, although God knows it might get me killed if they find out." He leaned forward, taking her hands again. "Tell me, would it be equally odious to you if you kissed me?"
"None of it would have been odious," she answered softly.
His lips lightly touched hers. He savored what was offered, keeping his desire in check. Her kiss was sweeter, richer than Savannah's. There was no hunger here, no demand. He cursed Jason from the bottom of his soul.
"Well." He drew a breath as he released her. "I shall do what I can." Sin-Jin thought for a moment, then smiled. "It is a fortunate thing that most soldiers earn so little money. They can be easily bought." He walked her to the door, an arm around her shoulders, his voice low. "I want you to keep a fast horse waiting near the prison —that storehouse right behind the general store across the street," he clarified when she looked at him blankly. "Be there after eleven tonight."
"Well?" Aaron stepped forward when Krystyna came around the side of the building by which he and Jeremiah had been waiting for the better part of an hour.
She took his hand. "He will help us. We are to have a horse waiting tonight near that building." She pointed out the storehouse.
Aaron smiled grimly, nodding his head. He hoped the lieutenant could be trusted and that they weren't walking into a trap.
Chapter Thirty Six
The air remained damp and hot as the hours stretched to midnight and then passed. The tension of the three waiting behind the general store was thick and palpable. Each approaching footstep brought fear and anticipation.
But Jason didn't-come.
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