by Mary Davis
“I know a lot of people, both gentlemen and ladies alike, who would not have been able to figure that number so quickly in their heads.”
“It wasn’t a difficult equation.”
“But still, you didn’t hesitate or seem to have to think about it.”
It really was nothing to be impressed over. She could solve more complex equations in her head. “So then, you think me a silly young lady.”
“Never silly. You, milady, are an enigma.”
“An enigma?”
“That means you are—”
“I know what enigma means.” He must think her a simpleton.
He chuckled. “You lean more toward being mysterious rather than difficult to understand.”
She liked being mysterious.
“But I also find you enchanting and delightfully fascinating.”
She liked the sound of those words. A delightfully fascinating young lady who enchanted.
“On the outside, you may appear ordinary, but on the inside, you are extraordinary, full of wit and charm and intelligence.”
But did he think she was pretty?
He tapped one of the books. “Read a poem aloud.”
“Am I your servant?”
“I would never think of you in such a manner. I find pleasure in your accent.”
“My accent? I don’t have an accent. You, sir, are the one with an accent.”
“And to me I have no accent. It is all in the ear of the listener.”
She held the book out to him. “I read last time. It’s your turn to flaunt your accent.”
“Very well, milady.” He took the volume and opened it, flipping through the pages until he stopped on a particularly long poem. “Prepare to be amazed at the flaunting of my accent.”
She closed her eyes and listened to the smooth timbre of his voice, the way he pronounced each word, syllable and letter.
When he finished, she said, “That was beautiful.”
He handed over the book. “Your turn.”
“I need to get back.”
“As should I.”
* * *
Charles had been pleasantly surprised she’d come. He had been right suspecting she was avoiding him. But his visit to her seemed to have cured that.
He was glad he’d brought the books. They would give her reason to keep coming. With all of Melissa’s books, Rachel would need to return for years to read them. But not if her father found her a husband.
That didn’t sit well with Charles. He knew the pressure good-intentioned parents could place on their children to marry. He had always accepted marriage as a way of life for himself. Something to put off as long as possible, but in the end, inevitable. He would marry someone to please his parents even if he didn’t love that person.
But for Rachel, he didn’t like the idea one bit.
He watched her walk back through the woods until he couldn’t see her any longer.
“So, she’s the girl you are risking your career and social standing for.”
Charles spun around to face his brother. “Brantley?”
“That was a sweet little interlude, but is she really worth losing everything?”
He did not want to have this discussion. He knew what his brother would say. He’d already given himself all the lectures. All the reasons he should stay away from her. But he’d failed in the execution of those intentions. So he changed the subject. “I’m sorry for the comment about Melissa and her books.”
“No need to apologize. It’s true. You should stay single as long as you can.”
“Why do you think I volunteered for duty on this island? No one for Mother to match me up with.”
“What about this girl?”
“She is just a friend.” Truly, she could be nothing more.
“One does not risk everything for a young lady who is just a friend.”
Chapter 9
Waiting until the English soldiers had gone inside for their afternoon tea, Rachel scurried down the hill and stood inside the fancy garden. She had hoped there would still be a flower or two left she couldn’t see from above, but late November offered no blooms. The garden looked sad and lonely and cold. She shivered.
“Miss?” a voice said behind her.
She spun around to see two soldiers standing at the gate.
“You don’t belong here. You’ll have to come with us.”
Could she outrun them and get up the hill before they captured her? She doubted it.
The soldier who had spoken for the pair motioned with his hand. “Come along. No one is going to hurt you.”
She stared at him.
He entered the garden and came up to her but didn’t touch her. “This way.”
She mutely obeyed.
They took her inside the building she had been in before. One soldier waited with her outside an office that was not Charles’s while the other knocked and then entered when commanded.
She could hear him speak.
“Sir, we have captured an American spy in camp.”
Spy? She swallowed her urge to laugh. The thought that she was a spy was ridiculous, but this was a serious matter, being in English Camp uninvited.
“A spy? What need do the Americans have to spy on us? Bring him in.” The voice sounded like Charles’s but wasn’t.
“Um, sir...”
“Just do it.”
The order was snapped so sharply that the soldier outside with her straightened. She did, too.
The soldier came out and escorted her into the office. The officer behind the desk sat with his hands steepled and a stern look upon his face. But as soon as he saw her, his eyes widened, and he stood. “This is but a girl.”
“Yes, sir. She was snooping around the formal garden.”
The officer who looked and sounded a lot like Charles, who must be his brother, turned to her. “What is your name?”
“Rachel Thompson.”
“Please have a seat, Miss Thompson.”
She planted her feet. “I’ll stand.”
He came around the desk and studied her. He shifted his gaze from her to the soldier. “Bring my brother. Quickly and quietly.”
“Sir, the men have all seen her.”
“Go!”
The soldier scrambled away.
Rachel cleared her throat. “Would you just let me leave? There is no need for all this fuss.”
“I agree with you. But, since you are already here, there is already a fuss.” He pulled a chair closer to her. “Please have a seat.”
She lowered herself onto the front edge of the chair, not sure what he had planned. But she was glad that Charles would be there soon.
The officer sat on the corner of the desk. “What were you looking for in the garden?”
A silly question. “What does one normally look for in a garden? Flowers.”
He arched one eyebrow high on his forehead. “Cheeky, aren’t you?”
“For stating the obvious?”
* * *
At the hurried knock on the open door, Charles looked up from the papers in front of him. Private Somers stood in the doorway. “First Lieutenant Young wants to see you immediately, sir.”
What could Brantley want that was so urgent? Had something happened to Melissa? “Is he at home?”
“No, his office.”
That confused Charles, but he stood and followed the marine.
At the doorway, he stopped and stood at attention. Brantley leaned against the corner of his desk. And at the periphery of his vision, Charles could see that someone sat in a chair. He kept his gaze on his superior officer.
“Come in and close the door.” Brantley motioned toward the pers
on in the chair. “We have a situation here.”
That was all Charles needed in the way of permission. As he shifted to close the door, he glanced at the person but stopped. “Rachel?”
She gave him a bright smile.
Brantley ordered, “Close the door.”
Charles did. “What is she doing here?”
“Apparently, smelling flowers.”
Rachel spoke up. “I wasn’t smelling them.”
The brothers glanced at her and then back at each other.
Charles spoke. “We have to get her out of here before the captain sees her.”
“No. We have to take her to the captain. Too many of the men have seen her. He will learn she was here. Again.”
Charles took a deep breath. “I’ll take her.”
“No, you won’t. I will. It’s best if you aren’t seen with her.”
“Then why did you send for me?”
“I thought you should know she had been here.”
“May I speak with her? Alone?”
“Only for a moment.” Brantley stepped outside but left the door ajar.
Charles knelt in front of Rachel. “What were you thinking, coming down the hill?”
“I wanted to see the flowers before they were all gone. I waited until everyone had moved inside for tea.”
“Evidently not everyone.”
“Evidently. I wasn’t trying to get caught. What will your captain do with me?”
“Talk to you. And get you out of camp as fast as possible.”
Brantley stepped back in. “I need to take her.”
Charles stood and helped Rachel to her feet.
“You look as though I’m going to my execution.”
Charles relaxed his shoulders. “No harm will come to you.”
“Then why do you look so glum?”
“I can’t say the same for me.” He led her out and followed behind his brother.
“You won’t get in trouble on my account, will you? You had nothing to do with me being here.”
“But I did last time.”
“He found out about that?”
“One can hardly keep a secret in such a small camp.”
Brantley stopped at the captain’s closed door. “Wait here.” He knocked.
“Enter.”
Brantley took a deep breath before turning the knob. He left the door open as he disappeared inside.
“What is it?”
“We have a situation, sir,” Brantley said.
Rachel had certainly caused a situation.
“What?”
“It seems an American has wandered into camp.”
“It is unlikely an American found himself here by accident. Bring him in.”
“Sir—”
“I’ll deal with him. Send him in.”
Brantley appeared and gave Charles a look that told him to stay put. He motioned for Rachel to enter. She did.
“What’s this?” Captain Bazalgette barked.
“The American, sir. Her name is Rachel Thompson.”
“Is that your brother outside the door?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lieutenant Young, get in here!”
Charles took a deep breath and stepped into the captain’s office. He stood at attention.
The captain scowled. “Is this the same girl you held here a while back?”
He hadn’t held her. Why did the captain insist on wording it that way? “Yes, sir.”
The captain turned his gaze back on Rachel. “Miss Thompson, are you trying to incite this war?”
She didn’t flinch or cower. “No. Sir.” The sir seemed to be an afterthought. She didn’t have to address the captain as sir. He wasn’t her commanding officer.
“Then what are you doing in my camp?”
“I wanted to look at the flowers in the garden. There are some I haven’t seen before. And I have never seen such a garden. The little rows of bushes around all the beds. But the flowers are all gone for the winter.”
The captain’s eyes widened in surprise, whether from the simplicity and innocence of her answer or her forthrightness. “You would risk war over flowers?”
“I don’t see how flowers could start a war.”
“But a young lady unaccompanied in the opposition’s camp could.”
Rachel shrugged. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Brantley choked on a laugh. Charles also had difficulty containing his mirth.
Captain Bazalgette glared briefly at the two of them, then focused back on Rachel. “You expect me to believe you came here simply to look at flowers and won’t tell anyone that you’ve been here?”
“Why should I tell anyone? I didn’t last time. You know about last time.”
“Yes, young lady, I do. How do I know that you didn’t intentionally get caught and American soldiers are just waiting to accuse us of misdeeds, giving them a reason to attack?”
“I didn’t get caught on purpose. I waited until everyone went inside for tea. Well, I guess everyone hadn’t gone in, after all.”
Charles could tell that the captain didn’t think Rachel was up to anything treacherous.
“I could lock you up for trespassing.”
She squared her shoulders. “I don’t think that would keep the peace.”
Was his commanding officer trying to scare Rachel? It wasn’t working. Either that or Rachel was hiding her fear. He didn’t think so. Rachel knew the captain didn’t want things to get out of hand.
“I’m going to let you go—this time. I don’t ever want to see you back in my camp. If I catch you here again, I will throw you in my brig. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Charles could almost hear Rachel’s following thought that she would make sure not to get caught next time. He couldn’t imagine Rachel staying away.
“I’ll have a wagon hitched and an escort take you home.”
“You can’t do that. I need to leave now. I’ve been away too long as it is. I can find my own way. If your soldiers go anywhere near my home, my papa will get this war riled up.” Rachel turned and gave Charles a pleading look.
He wasn’t sure what he could say. Speaking at all would upset his superior, but he didn’t want Rachel to feel abandoned by him. “Sir?” he asked in a firm voice.
“Not a word from you.”
At least Rachel would know he’d tried.
Captain Bazalgette glowered down at Rachel.
Charles watched his commanding officer as his expression made a minute shift in understanding. He, too, realized that if Rachel’s father found out she was here, this could all end very badly. Or rather begin badly and get worse.
“You won’t ever return?” the captain asked.
“No, sir.”
“My officers will escort you part of the way.”
“But—”
“No arguments. Go, before I change my mind.” The captain motioned for Charles and his brother to see her off the premises.
“Thank you.” Rachel turned and walked out with them.
Once outside, Charles said, “I’ll see her the rest of the way.”
“No. The captain ordered both of us, so I’m going, too.”
Rachel led them up the hill. At the top, she tried to dismiss them, but Charles wouldn’t let her. He needed to see her most of the way home and did.
Not too close to her house, Rachel said, “You should both turn back now.”
Charles nodded to Brantley.
“I’ll wait over there for you.” Brantley walked off.
Charles stood in front of Rachel. “You can’t ever come back down into the camp.”
“I know.�
� She held out her hands. “They stopped shaking.”
“Your hands were shaking?”
“I thought your captain was going to put me in jail.”
He smiled. “You could have fooled me. You called his bluff.”
“Well, I didn’t think he really wanted to start the war up. And you said he would let me go.”
Rachel was so refreshing.
He bowed. “Goodbye, Rachel. ‘Parting is such sweet sorrow.’” He left her there and met up with his brother.
Brantley nudged him with his shoulder. “I can see why she fascinates you. I thought she might start giving the captain orders.”
She was a special young lady.
* * *
Charles crouched in some thick underbrush near Rachel’s home. Her brother and three little sisters were in the yard, but Rachel wasn’t around. And she was the one he’d hoped to catch a glimpse of.
Lindley looked straight at him, but he doubted the boy could actually see him. Then the boy meandered off around the house. Soon he could hear the boy coming through the woods. He moved to a different location. When Lindley thrust his stick sword at the bush he’d been hiding in, Charles came up behind him and used his own stick to poke his arm. “Put your hands up.”
Lindley spun around. “How did you know I was coming?”
“You looked suspicious when you left the yard, and then you made noise coming through the trees.”
Lindley slumped his shoulders in defeat.
“Now tell me how you knew I was here? I was sure you couldn’t see me.”
He tipped his head back and pointed up.
The boy wasn’t saying that God had told him, was he? Charles looked up.
In the large fir tree nearby, Rachel waved to him.
He wanted to call up to her but didn’t dare inform the rest of the household that he was present, so he turned to Lindley. “How long has she been up there?”
Lindley shrugged. “It’s an easy tree to climb. The branches start low and go all the way up.”
He noticed that Rachel was almost down. “You always climb trees in dresses?”
“Only when strange men are sneaking up to our home.” She turned to Lindley. “Go back to the house.”
“I want to stay here with the leftenant.”
Just then a woman called out to them.
Rachel gripped Lindley’s shoulder. “That’s our mother. We both have to go.” She pierced Charles with a glare. “You need to go, as well.”