by Jody Hedlund
And Susanna?
Her breathing had turned steady, and she’d stopped trembling.
If she made it safely through the night—and he would do his best to make sure she did—she would still have to face the wrath of Lieutenant Wolfe at some point. For surely the man would now know the extent of Susanna’s involvement and wouldn’t rest until he’d made her pay for the trouble she’d caused him.
Ben closed his eyes and tilted his head heavenward. God help him. Help him find a way to keep the women safe.
Chapter
22
A distant shout startled Susanna out of a doze. She blinked her eyes open, only to find herself still in the shadowy cavern under Arnold Tavern. She’d desperately hoped to awaken to the heavy quilts and canopied bed in her chamber at Grandmother Eve’s house.
Instead she was still in the center of a nightmare—a freezing, dangerous, unending nightmare.
She trembled.
A strong arm tightened around her.
Only then did she realize that during her exhaustion, she’d leaned against Ben and laid her head upon his shoulder. He’d not only permitted it, but he’d slipped his arm around her, allowing her to rest more comfortably in the crook of his body.
She lifted her head and found his face only inches away. The flickering candle illuminated the anxiety there.
“Thank you for lending me your shoulder,” she whispered.
He quickly touched his finger to her lips and nodded toward the tunnel and the root cellar.
Another shout was followed by the crashing of glass, possibly the old jars Mr. Arnold had sitting on the shelves.
Even as the warmth of Ben’s finger caressed her lips, the warning in his eyes caused her to stiffen with renewed fear.
Was Lieutenant Wolfe rampaging Arnold Tavern in his search for them?
Across from her, Dotty quaked under her blanket, her wide eyes upon the tunnel, waiting for Lieutenant Wolfe to barge in.
Ben let his hand at Susanna’s lips fall away and grasped her fingers into a tight hold. With his other hand he gripped his musket.
Was that why her fingers weren’t so cold anymore? Had he been holding her hands while she’d slept?
At an angry roar in the root cellar, she flinched.
Ben’s muscles flexed in readiness to spring up and fight.
She closed her eyes and fought against the apprehension that had been her constant companion since the moment she’d run away from Mount Wollaston. All of the previous doubts came crawling back to torment her, making her question her involvement in everything. As if sensing her inner turmoil, Ben’s fingers pressed into hers. She lifted her eyes to his again. And they seemed to reassure her that she was doing the right thing, that she couldn’t let her fears hold her back.
Somewhere deep inside she knew he was right, that throughout the course of history many people had suffered harm and even death in order to bring about changes that were for the common good of man.
But even with that knowledge, fear was a powerful force to overcome.
There were several more muffled shouts. Then all fell quiet.
Susanna started to breathe again.
But Ben shook his head, cautioning them to stay silent and unmoving.
She nodded and allowed herself to sink back against him, reveling too much in the nearness to him that she’d never expected to experience again after their bitter parting earlier in the day at his farm.
The steady pounding of his heart echoed near her ear, and she couldn’t bring herself to remind him of his order to leave him and not to visit him again. She wanted to cling to the peace between them, even if it wasn’t real, even if she would wake up tomorrow and find it had evaporated.
At least for this night, at this moment, she could be his friend again.
They seemed to wait for hours, and Susanna felt herself beginning to get drowsy again, when a scraping at the tunnel jolted her upright.
Ben released her and jumped to his feet.
Without the solidness of his presence next to her, the chill in the air crept under the blanket.
Cautiously Ben neared the tunnel, his musket loaded and ready to fire. The taut determination on his face said he was prepared to defend them to the death.
Susanna shrank against the wall. Could Ben really kill another person or would he only make threats? She prayed they wouldn’t have to find out.
“Ben?” A soft call with an Irish brogue reached them.
The lines in Ben’s forehead smoothed. He lowered his gun and leaned down to squint into the tunnel. “Is the red monkey finally gone?”
“Aye, that he is” came Mr. Arnold’s shaking voice. “But not without tearing apart me tavern from top to bottom.”
“I promise I’ll come back and help you clean it up once I get the women to safety.”
“No matter,” Mr. Arnold said with a hoarse whisper that echoed through the tunnel. “The important thing is that ye are all right.”
“Do you think we’re clear to go?” Ben started back through the tunnel, leaving them in the sputtering light of the stub of the candle.
For several long minutes she and Dotty waited. She strained, trying to decipher the murmured whisperings of Ben and Mr. Arnold.
When Ben returned to the cavern, he had several wrapped bundles and extra blankets.
“We’ll wait here until just before dawn.” He handed Dotty another blanket. “Then we’ll leave. Susanna and I will ride toward Boston and act as a decoy. And Mr. Arnold will row Dotty in one of the small fishing vessels around Crow Point.”
Susanna nodded. “So if the lieutenant is still looking, he’ll see our tracks and follow us north, allowing Dotty time to escape to the south?”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” He kneeled before Dotty. “I wish I could find a way to send you all the way to Plymouth. But Crow Point is as far as you’ll be able to go by sea. After that, you’ll have to find your way to Hingham to the home of Mr. Tipton. He’s a friend of liberty and justice. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll shelter you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ross,” Dotty whispered. “You and Miss Smith have been kind to me. Very kind. I can’t ever thank you for all your help.”
“I only regret I couldn’t find a way to prosecute your master, Mr. Lovelace, for all the distress he’s caused you. Although I tried to find other servants who would be willing to testify against him, they were all frightened to speak.”
“They’re afraid of what he would do to them for crossing him. And rightly so. He’s a cruel man. Very cruel.”
Ben released a long sigh. “I should have done more for you, Dotty.”
“Nay. You’ve done more than enough.” Shadows flickered across Dotty’s pretty features, and Susanna couldn’t keep from wondering if the young woman regretted running away. Her life had been nothing but hardship since she’d run. And Susanna doubted it would get any easier in the days to come.
“I’ll still be working to find a case for you, Dotty,” Ben reassured her. “But I must warn you that you won’t have an easy path ahead.” He glanced at her protruding belly.
“I don’t want to go back,” Dotty said, splaying her hand over her stomach. “I’d rather die first.”
Ben nodded.
Susanna suspected she would have given up long ago. But she supposed she couldn’t empathize with the horrors of living under the tyranny of someone who could perpetuate abuse day after day with no recourse.
Perhaps this very situation was beginning to happen between the colonies and Great Britain. They were indeed living under the authority of someone who could perpetuate abuse without recourse.
Would the situation only worsen until they were forced into rebellion—perhaps even war? Would one dangerous situation only lead to another, similar to Dotty’s predicament?
“Try to get some rest,” Ben said gently to Dotty. “Mr. Arnold will alert us when we need to leave.”
Then he straightened, turned toward Susanna, and began to dr
ape the extra blanket across her legs.
She pushed it back at him. “You need it. Please warm yourself.”
He shook his head. “I insist.”
“Then I must insist that you sit next to me and share it.”
In spite of the seriousness of their predicament, a grin tugged his lips. “You need not command me to sit next to you, Susanna. I need no persuasion to have you in my arms.”
When his grin inched higher, she had to admit how much she wanted his body against hers, to sit in the shelter of his hold, to hear the steady thump of his heartbeat and feel the heat of his breath against her cheek.
A moment later, after he’d lit another candle and checked to make sure they were secure, he returned to her.
She smiled up at him and lifted the blanket, indicating he should join her.
But this time, he didn’t smile. Instead he regarded her with a mixture of desire and caution.
He hesitated, and for a moment she almost believed he would walk away from her, that he was remembering all that had transpired between them, and how he’d wanted her out of his life.
Had he not read her letter? If he had, he would have known how sorry she was for hurting him. But perhaps he’d decided not to forgive her again. Perhaps her pride would at last be her downfall and cast him away forever.
She let the blanket fall, and her smile melted away, replaced by emptiness and utter melancholy.
He sighed and lowered himself next to her, being careful not to touch her this time. When he was seated, he leaned his head back against the earthen wall and stared at the dancing flame of the candle across from them.
She knew she had to say something. No matter his resolutions, she had to prove to him she’d meant every word of her letter.
With a brazenness that would have shocked Mother, she clutched Ben’s hand. She wound her smooth fingers through his thick callused ones and took hope when he didn’t pull away.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness for the same mistake a second time in my life,” she said softly, “but I pray you will grant it.”
He placed his other hand over hers, sending more hope skittering through her heart. “I forgive you, Susanna. But if I’m to be completely honest with myself, I cannot lay the blame for what happened entirely at your feet. Since I had considered your wealth and status and the benefits that would come from a union with you, how could I expect you not to consider such things?”
“Even so, I was prideful, and I regret the hurt I caused you.”
“And I regret asking you for something you weren’t ready to give.” He finally turned to look at her, and the intensity of his eyes drew her into him like the tide to the shore. “You asked for nothing more than my friendship. But of course, in my own self-seeking, I thought to have more.”
“I cannot deny that I have thought of more,” she said, glad Mother wasn’t there to be scandalized by her boldness.
“But we’re both invested in the need to improve ourselves with our matches,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her admission. “We have fallen prey to the selfishness of marrying for what our partner can do for us rather than what we can give.”
“I’m guilty, although I wish not to be. ’Twould seem that once again I have let my fears dictate my course of action.” Her thoughts returned to Grandmother Eve’s rushed confession in the tunnel and the admonition that Susanna look past outward qualifications and see into the man’s heart to his character.
“Then perhaps it’s time for both of us to set aside our selfish aspirations and seek to live sacrificially.” He patted her hand. “And because I wish to start, I free you of any obligation to assent to the offer of courtship I placed before your parents.”
For a reason she couldn’t understand, his declaration left a hollow spot in her chest.
“I’d like to accept your request for friendship,” he said. “You’ve offered it to me all along and I haven’t taken it seriously.”
She nodded, unable to formulate a response. Confusion wound through her, the same confusion that had been simmering inside her over the past several weeks. The more she was with Ben and the more she came to know him, the more she wanted from him.
“I shall do my best to honor your request of friendship.” The warmth in Ben’s eyes reached out to caress her. “You’re intelligent, easy to converse with, and compassionate—all traits I highly value in a friend. In fact, I have found very few men equal to you, Susanna.”
His praise stirred the ache inside her, filling the hollowness with a mixture of sweetness and sorrow.
“I guess what I’m trying to say,” he continued at a whisper, “is that I’d be a fool to do anything to jeopardize our friendship.”
And she’d be a fool to do likewise. For now, she would need to put aside her confusing thoughts about Ben and find gratefulness in his willingness to renew their friendship.
“You’re a good man, Benjamin Ross,” she said softly. “In fact, you’re a better man than most.”
“Better than Elbridge?” Even though his voice was light, there was something in his gaze that demanded to know where her relationship with him stood.
“I have nothing in my heart for him but the utmost scorn. He’s the one who betrayed Dotty’s whereabouts to the lieutenant.”
“I should have deduced he was sneaking around and putting the clues together.”
“He met with the lieutenant privately and arranged to bring Dotty to your home so they could implicate you in sheltering her.”
“I’m not surprised. I’ve made enemies of them both.”
She hated to think what could have happened if Elbridge had succeeded in implicating Ben for harboring Dotty. Since Lieutenant Wolfe already suspected Ben’s involvement in the smuggling activities, he’d likely take any opportunity he could to arrest and prosecute Ben.
“I believe Elbridge also thought he’d protect me,” she said, “if he could shift the blame to you.”
“Get rid of me and save you at the same time. I guess he’s smarter than I realized.”
“Regardless of how smart he’s proven himself to be”—she tried to infuse her tone with a lightness she didn’t feel—“I’ve realized today he’s clearly not the man for me.”
“Then perhaps something good has come out of all this after all,” Ben responded with the wry humor she was growing to love.
She tried to smile. But she knew if she lived through the night, she would have to explain everything to Mother. And that thought was enough to squelch any mirth.
Susanna believed Mother and Father were wise and only wanted what was best for her. They truly did want her to have a prosperous and happy future. But their idea of what constituted happiness was growing further at odds with hers.
Even if she could use all her wiles of persuasion and logic to gain Mother’s agreement to stop pursuing Elbridge, what would she gain from it?
Mother would only seek after some other gentleman of means. And Susanna would be stuck again . . .
Unless she broke free.
If she could be brave enough to free Dotty, surely she could be brave enough to free herself.
Chapter
23
They left through the smugglers’ tunnel at the first hint of dawn. Faint sunlight streaked the sky and the calm waters of the bay. The winter storm had finally blown itself out to sea and had left a crisp, bright day in its wake.
Ben rode next to Susanna on horses they borrowed from Mr. Arnold. After the sleepless night, she’d proven herself much stronger than Ben expected.
But finally after riding the fourteen miles north to Boston, she’d sagged in her saddle like a soggy gown out of the washing tub. When they rode into the city, she could hardly hold her head up or cling to the sidesaddle.
“Hang on, Susanna,” he said, leading her horse by the reins.
If he was exhausted, he could only imagine how bone weary she was.
They hadn’t seen any trace of Lieutenant Wolfe, even after
stopping several times to warm their frozen limbs at wayside taverns. Their tracks in the freshly fallen snow—at least three inches of powder—would surely make it easy for the lieutenant to follow them if he’d wanted to.
But over the course of the day, the glances over their shoulders had only shown an empty road. Ben hoped the lieutenant had finally given up his need to find Dotty, that he’d just let her go. And he prayed Mr. Arnold had safely stowed the young woman in the bottom of the fishing vessel after they’d left, that nothing had gone wrong in rowing her to Crow Point.
Ben’s frozen feet slipped in the dirty gray slush that formed puddles on the cobbled street. He caught himself and filled his lungs with the crisp air that hinted of the sea. Now that they were away from the market and the wharves, blessed silence had replaced the calls of peddlers, the clatter of carriages, and the clamor of the farmers come to sell plucked turkeys, pumpkins, and cheese.
Ahead the looming mansions of Boston’s richest merchants rose up to tower over the waterfront city.
They were almost there.
The Cranch home, while not as imposing as some of the mansions of the Boston elite, was still an enormous brick structure that rivaled the Quincy mansion on Mount Wollaston.
Even if the day had been long and the travel wearisome, his heart was content for having conversed for hours with Susanna about The Odyssey and other books they’d both read. With each passing mile, his admiration for her brilliance had grown. When she’d shared her frustration once again at having been denied the same quality of education as her younger brother, he could finally begin to understand why. Her mind was no less capable than that of a man. Why should she be forbidden an education simply because of her gender?
He’d been able to understand why her dame school meant so much to her, that she was wanting to do her part in giving women a chance at bettering their minds and lives.
“Ben?” Susanna’s voice was groggy, and she began to slip from the saddle.