by Jody Hedlund
“You’re a beautiful and irresistible woman,” he said, not quite sure why he felt the need to put her at ease, except that suddenly he loathed the thought that he may have hurt her—even if unintentionally.
The rigidness of her stance began to melt.
“And as hard as you are to resist, I must do the best I can.” Even as he spoke, though, his fingers slid down to the bare span of her arm toward her wrist before letting go. “You and I both know there can never be anything between us.”
She didn’t deny him.
And suddenly he wished she would. Why did she have to let her mother dictate her future? And did she really need to put so much weight upon a man’s worldly estate?
If only she had the freedom to marry a poor man. Instead she would likely end up with a pork sausage like Elbridge Quincy, who could give her everything she wanted.
But what could a country lawyer offer her, except himself and his high aspirations for the future?
He shook his head.
Aspirations weren’t enough for a woman like Susanna Smith.
“There can be something between us,” Susanna finally said softly. “I thought we’d agreed to be friends.”
“Friends. Of course.” But the word stuck to the roof of his mouth like day-old hasty pudding.
“You have indeed become a valued friend, and I treasure your honesty and wisdom.”
So was that all he was ever to be to Susanna? A treasured friend? He swallowed the protest, reminding himself that she was right. “I wouldn’t want to overstep the bounds of our friendship and put it in jeopardy because of a kiss.”
“We certainly wouldn’t want that,” she said.
“Exactly.” He had the overwhelming urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until they were both swooning.
Instead he took a step back. “How’s Dotty?” He needed to steer the conversation to safer ground.
“She’s living in the barn loft now. And she’s with child.” Susanna spoke with a rush as if anticipating his disapproval. “It was too cold. She was ill—”
“I understand.” He touched her arm to stop her. “You had no other choice.”
She released a breath. “After the lieutenant’s appearance this week, she’s scared. She’s talked about running farther south, perhaps trying to make it to Plymouth.”
Although a part of him wanted to tell Susanna to let Dotty go, to send her on her way so that Susanna wouldn’t be in any more danger, he knew Dotty would have a hard time surviving the trip. And besides, where would she go? She’d likely be captured there and returned to Mr. Lovelace in Boston.
“We need to find another place to hide her,” he said. “But where?”
“You don’t think Lieutenant Wolfe would come here again, do you?”
“If he’s as good at locating runaways as they say he is, then I suspect he’ll be back.”
She didn’t speak, but through the darkness the heaviness of her fear slithered around him.
“Perhaps it’s best if she comes to Braintree and hides in my father’s barn. I know he won’t object.”
“But if she’s found with you, think of the damage that could do to your reputation.”
“And think of the damage to yours.” In fact, he hated to think of the harm that could come to Susanna as a result of harboring Dotty. Now, after seeing the two murder victims, Ben shuddered whenever he thought of what Lieutenant Wolfe was capable of doing to Susanna should he ever get her alone.
“I’m more afraid of what could happen to my family than to myself.”
Ben feared that his father’s farm wouldn’t be safe enough—not with all the people that came and went on a daily basis, either meeting with him in his law office or to visit his father.
“What about your grandmother Quincy?” he asked. “She was sympathetic to Joe Sewall, even sheltered him before the trial to prevent a lynch mob.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“She told me her grandfather built an underground escape route to protect his family back during the days when the Indians were attacking. And that if anyone came looking for Joe, he’d have a way to avoid capture.”
“Then you think Grandmother Eve might be willing to hide Dotty?”
“I’ll ask her when I return to Braintree on the morrow. If she’s agreeable, I’ll ride out again to Weymouth tomorrow night and take Dotty under cover of darkness to your grandmother’s.”
“Then I’ll warn her to be ready.” Her fingers found his.
“Your grandmother is a kindhearted and brave woman.” He relished the softness of her hand upon his. “I can see now that you take after her.”
A rap at the closet door made him jump, and he knocked his head against the stair again. He muttered under his breath.
“Shh,” she whispered.
They both stood silent and unmoving.
But someone on the other side rapped at the door again.
Susanna made a move as if to open it, but Ben squeezed her hand, hoping she’d heed his caution. If they didn’t respond, perhaps the interloper would move away without detecting them.
“Miss Susie” came a muted voice through the wood. “Miss Susie, I know you’re in there.”
This time, Susanna broke away from him and swung open the door.
There stood one of the Smith slaves, a tall, spry woman who’d been running nonstop all evening from one task to the next. Sweat darkened the band of her turban that crisscrossed her forehead.
“What is it, Phoebe?” Susanna asked.
The woman’s eyes darted around the empty hallway before she turned back to Susanna. “There’s a soldier at the back door. He’s asking for you.”
Chapter
15
“Soldier?” Ben asked at the same time as Susanna.
“He says he’s got a message for you, Miss Susie. And that it’s urgent.”
Upon hearing the news, Susanna dashed past the slave and down the hallway toward the back of the house.
Ben raced after her. “Let me handle it, Susanna. Please.”
But her steps slapped only faster. As she entered the kitchen, she stopped short at the sight of the young attendant that normally rode with Lieutenant Wolfe. He wore a long dark cloak that covered his red uniform, and he’d pulled his cocked hat low, hiding his face.
“Miss Smith,” he said to Susanna. But at the sight of Ben behind her, the sergeant pulled back.
“What is it, Sergeant?” She glanced around the large kitchen as if she expected Lieutenant Wolfe to spring out from behind one of the mounds of food left from the wedding feast or the piles of crusty kettles that needed scrubbing.
“I have a private message for you, Miss Smith.” The sergeant glanced at Ben and then at the slave woman who’d returned to her worktable and was already scraping one of the kettles.
“They’re trustworthy,” Susanna said.
His freckled face was pale. And though his eyes flashed with worry, they contained a kindness Ben had not often noticed among the king’s soldiers.
The sergeant seemed to be debating whether to stay or leave.
“Benjamin Ross is my friend. You have nothing to fear from him.”
Sergeant Frazel finally nodded and then spoke in low tones to Susanna. “Lieutenant Wolfe has obtained a writ of assistance today. He’s planning a surprise visit on the morrow with the claim that your father is involved in the illegal smuggling and that therefore he has the right to search the premises.”
“Why would you have reason to warn us, Sergeant?” Susanna said with a casualness Ben wanted to applaud. “Surely you know we aren’t involved in any smuggling here.”
Ben had been afraid she’d give away Dotty’s presence all too easily. Even if the young man seemed kind, Ben had never met a British regular who could be trusted.
The soldier glanced at his tall leather boots, red creeping up his cheeks. “I have the feeling you’ll want to find a way to hide the young woman in the barn just a little better.”<
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Susanna’s face paled and she steadied herself on the edge of the worktable.
Ben moved next to her and resisted the urge to slip his arm around her waist. “We don’t know what young woman you’re speaking of—”
Sergeant Frazel’s clearly anguished expression silenced Ben. “The lieutenant is vicious. I beg you to heed my warning before it’s too late.” One look into the soldier’s eyes told of unspeakable horrors the man had witnessed, of sins committed, of crimes that would happen again if he didn’t break his silence. “Please use all caution and make haste.”
Ben nodded. “We will.”
“I can’t stay.” The soldier pulled his damp cloak closer. “The lieutenant would whip me if he learned I was here, and then hang me.”
“You’ve been very courageous to come warn us,” Susanna replied. “Thank you, Sergeant. I’ll pray God rewards you for your sacrifice tonight.”
The soldier tipped his hat back down and then spun away. He opened the door soundlessly and disappeared into the dark night. The spattering of sleet that had begun to fall earlier when some of the older guests had made their departure had turned into a steady cold drizzle.
Susanna closed the door behind him, then leaned against it and shuddered. “I’d desperately hoped he hadn’t seen her on that day he searched the barn, but he must have noticed more than we realized.”
“It’s a good thing he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here tonight with his warning.” Phoebe crossed to the hearth to the pot of cider bubbling over the low flames and giving off the spiciness of cloves and nutmeg. “God’s watching out for you, Miss Susie. That’s for sure.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Ben moved to the window and peered outside. He’d hoped to avoid any further involvement with Lieutenant Wolfe. He hadn’t wanted to bring any more attention to himself for fear of causing more danger for the others of the Caucus Club. But with each passing day, his entanglement with the lieutenant seemed to be growing.
“What should we do, Ben?” Susanna asked.
“We’re moving Dotty to your grandmother’s tonight. And I’m moving you too.” Ben’s body tightened at the thought of Susanna being anywhere near the lieutenant when he came to the house in the morning and discovered that Dotty was gone. They couldn’t wait to go to Mount Wollaston until tomorrow. They’d leave tonight. Now.
Susanna didn’t argue. She only hugged her arms, failing to stifle another shudder.
“The rain’s coming down hard.” Phoebe paused in stirring the cider. “It’ll provide good cover for leaving. No one else will be out to see or hear you.”
Ben hesitated. He didn’t relish the thought of making Susanna or Dotty ride in the icy rain. But what other choice did he have?
Susanna straightened her shoulders. “Phoebe’s right. Besides, no one would suspect anything if I left tonight. Everyone’s busy. And if anyone asks where I went, you can tell them I went to Grandmother Eve’s. In fact, I’ll tell Mother I’m going to Mount Wollaston so there will be more room for the other guests.”
“Don’t you worry,” Phoebe said, “I’ll cover for you.”
If Phoebe’s words were meant to reassure Susanna, they did the opposite. Doubt crowded away the confidence that had been on her face.
“Let’s go.” Ben started toward the door that would lead him back to the hallway and his cloak. “I’ll sneak out first and saddle your horse. Meet me in the barn.”
She didn’t move.
“Remember,” he said, “you’re standing up for the rights of a person made in the image of God. She shouldn’t be denied counsel and a fair trial. No one should be.”
“Yes, though I’ve put so many lives in danger . . .”
“Sometimes doing what’s right is dangerous, even life-threatening.”
If they didn’t stand against injustice and tyranny now, they’d only leave the problems for future generations. He was convinced, like so many others in the Caucus Club, that it was merely a matter of time before they would need to fight against Great Britain for freedom.
Her dark eyes seemed to draw courage from him. He nodded. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
Although he wouldn’t admit it to her, he knew very well he would never let anything happen to her. He’d lay down his life for her.
His gut wrenched with a sudden surge of protectiveness. And he had to spin away from her perceptiveness before she saw the truth in his eyes. The truth he’d been trying to deny these past weeks. A truth he finally had to face . . .
He was falling in love with Susanna Smith.
Susanna’s fingers had turned to ice. She wasn’t sure if she was holding the reins anymore. She couldn’t see anything either, not past the ice on her eyelashes and the ice-crusted hair hanging in her face. She was glad her mare was smart enough to follow Ben’s lead.
Through the cloudy night and the steady drizzle of the freezing rain, she fought to stay in her sidesaddle. The only thought that kept her from allowing herself to slide off was that she had to get Dotty away from her home and her family before it was too late.
The young woman sat behind her, clinging to her, pressing her face into Susanna’s back. She had to see Dotty safely to Mount Wollaston. Tonight. The girl’s life depended upon it.
“We’re almost there,” Ben called over his shoulder. In the howling wind, his voice was faint.
He’d taken them on an irregular route, off the main roads, with the hope they wouldn’t cross paths with any other travelers. They couldn’t chance anyone seeing them.
But Susanna also knew Ben was trying to cover their tracks as best he could. If Lieutenant Wolfe suspected she’d left to hide Dotty, they didn’t want him attempting to follow them to Mount Wollaston.
Their course had turned rocky and steep during the final climb up the hill to her grandmother’s home.
A jolt from the horse’s slow trod sent shards of pain up Susanna’s frozen arms, and suddenly she found herself slipping. She tried to grip the reins, the saddle, anything, but she couldn’t make her fingers work.
With a cry she slipped farther.
Dotty grasped her tighter, but the mare stumbled over another slick rock. And Susanna lost her hold on the beast completely.
She plummeted into the darkness. The icy branches of the brush snagged her full skirt and cloak and slowed her descent. Even so, her body landed against the hard earth with a thud that pounded the breath from her lungs and sent agonizing pain through her back.
She could hear Dotty call out to Ben, but she couldn’t get her own voice to work past the tightness in her chest. The leafless canopy of brittle branches overhead provided no shelter from the elements as the freezing rain pelted her face. Yet her lips and cheeks were too numb to feel the sting.
“Susanna!” The wind carried the panic in Ben’s tone.
She couldn’t muster enough strength to respond.
“Susanna.” Ben had dismounted, and he scrambled down the slope until he reached her. His shaking hands seized her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know,” she managed.
His face hovered above hers. Although she couldn’t see the features, the short burst of his breath testified to his worry. His trembling fingers moved to her face, sweeping the frozen strands of hair back.
“I pushed you exceedingly hard,” he said hoarsely.
“No—”
“I’m sorry, Susanna.” He slid his arms underneath her, cradled her, and brought her against his chest.
“It’s not your fault.” She knew she ought to protest his hold, but the heat of his body and the closeness of his embrace were much too comforting.
He struggled to stand, his muscles hardening and straining as he unbent his body.
“You can’t possibly carry me.” But even as she spoke, she bit back a cry at the pain shooting through her hip and leg.
“We don’t have far to go.”
She wound her arms around his neck and clung
to him.
“Ride ahead!” He shouted instructions to Dotty, who had managed to stay atop the horse. Then he started up the incline, sliding on the damp leaves and tripping over the rocks.
With each step his breathing grew more ragged.
“I’ll try to walk.” She squirmed against him.
“I won’t let you down,” he panted. And even though he slipped and stumbled the rest of the distance up the hill, his hold on her remained constant. When he finally arrived at the top, he stopped for a moment and dragged in a deep breath.
A light glimmered in the distance.
Dizziness washed over Susanna, and she wanted to keel over and release the contents of her stomach.
“We’re almost there,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her temple.
The gentleness soothed her. She wanted to tell him not to pull away, to go on pressing kisses against her skin forever.
But he started forward again, stumbling toward a flickering light in the distance. In a matter of moments, voices surrounded them. Her grandmother’s worried face hovered near. But at Ben’s whispered instructions about Dotty she disappeared.
“I’ll carry her up,” Ben insisted when one of Grandmother Eve’s servants attempted to help him. “Tell me where to take her.”
He followed the servant inside the house. The warmth enveloped her, along with the familiar scents of her grandfather’s pipe tobacco and her grandmother’s bayberry candles. Ben’s footsteps clattered on the stairway and through the hallway as he tramped behind the servant to the second-floor bedchamber.
When he lowered Susanna to the feather mattress, she cried out at the burning agony in her back. He kneeled beside the large canopied bed, tugged off his gloves, and tossed aside his hat.
In the low lamplight, the crevices in his forehead were deep. He’d long past taken off the queue wig he’d worn at the wedding, and now his sandy-brown hair plastered his damp cheeks.
She wanted to lift her stiff fingers and smooth away the strands and the wrinkles and tell him not to worry. But her fingers shook, and her body trembled from the cold and the pain.
The servant bustled around the bed, laying out towels, a second coverlet, and a night shift. “I must be getting the young miss out of her wet things.” Another servant heated a warming pan over the fire in the small hearth.