He looked away too soon, shaking his head. “Don’t try anything like that again.” His reprimanding tone returned full-force.
The longing look she’d savored from his gaze just seconds ago disappeared. She chewed on her lip. It was all for the better, she supposed. Eliza intertwined her fingers in her lap as he got up. He motioned for Kitty who came and helped pull the quilt over her.
Kitty winked as she tucked the blanket around Eliza’s legs and waist. Eliza pursed her lips and shot daggers through her widened eyes. Kitty smiled bigger and gathered the pail, towels, and dirty garments, then left the room.
Eliza bit her lip once more and pretended not to notice Thomas still standing by the bed, staring right at her.
Thomas clenched his jaw. How could they have attempted something so incredibly foolish? He wanted to give Eliza the scolding she deserved, to tell her he hadn’t saved her life just to have her start acting rash and putting herself at risk again.
But he couldn’t speak. All thoughts escaped him but the scent of the rose-perfumed soap that had circled him when he’d been only inches from her freshly washed hair and the thought of how feminine she felt in his arms. Her silken locks, all smooth and still wet from its wash, rested around her shoulders in a tight braid. The clean clothes she wore—his clothes—draped over her flawless curves. Her skin had more pink to it now, and if he wasn’t mistaken, that pink color was deepening.
Was she blushing? Her chin was tucked and she focused a great deal of attention on her fingernails. He held back a smile, remembering Nathaniel’s words. Did she really have feelings for him? Shaking his head again, Thomas tried to remember what it was he had been so frustrated about.
Eliza shot him a quick glance before once again studying her fingers. “How did things go in town? Did you get everything you needed from Dr. Smith?” Her satiny voice floated in the air and caressed his weakening walls of resistance.
Thomas took his usual seat by her side and tried to focus on her question. Why did she have to be so innocent, so alluring?
“Nathaniel’s been a God-send. We can’t risk being seen at the market, someone might be able to identify us. Especially after the plight with the sailors. I got some more food supplies. And something else. I’ll be right back.”
The nerves in his stomach swirled like leaves in the wind. He went downstairs to fetch the fair-sized bundle he’d dropped downstairs and bounded back up the steps like a giddy schoolboy. There shouldn’t be any reason for his nervousness. It wasn’t as if it was an inappropriate gift. Not really. Just a token of his gratitude for her patience and forgiveness.
He placed the package on her lap and watched as she fingered the twine with apparent apprehension.
“You needn’t get me anything, Thomas.”
“Oh, it’s nothing really.” Thomas answered, sitting back down to ease the nerves in his legs. “It’s actually for both you and Kitty.”
Eliza’s dark eyes darted between him and the package a few more times before she opened it. Slow and deliberate, she untied the small bow and pushed back the wrapping. Thomas kept his gaze on hers and stamped at the rising anticipation in his chest. What would she think of it? Would she like it?
Her lips parted and she sucked in a tiny breath. Thomas felt light as a thread of silk. That was just the reaction he’d been hoping for.
Her delicate fingers caressed the lavender colored day-dress.
Thomas yearned to see the expression in her eyes, but she didn’t look at him. She continued examining the gift, lifting it higher and smoothing out the wrinkles in the skirt.
Finally, she moved her face toward him. The gratitude in her eyes along with the small smile that pushed at her lips revealed her feelings. Thomas couldn’t retain the wide grin that spread across his face and deep into his heart. The nervous leaves in his stomach blew away with her pleasing reaction.
“You like it?”
She laughed, breathless. “Oh, yes. It’s lovely, thank you.” She looked away and lowered her voice. “But you know it’s far too intimate. How can I accept such a gift?”
He figured she would say as much. “Very easily, Eliza. The only dress you had was ruined. So, as I see it, you have no choice. You have to accept it.”
Eliza peered at him from the corner of her eye and appeared to be pressing away another winsome smile.
Thomas pointed at the light-green dress that still lay in the package. “That one’s for Kitty. And there are two . . . two nightgowns for you both as well. And, well, all the other things you will need.” His face burned and he cleared his throat.
Eliza’s countenance brightened. She must have noticed his obvious embarrassment.
“Thomas, you’ve done too much. How will we ever repay you?”
“Well, I wish I could say I picked it out myself.” He moved his chair closer to the bed. “I had bought you and Kitty some fabric when I came to town the day that . . . the day you were attacked, but I dropped it along the way in my hurry to, well, anyway . . .” He stopped, and searched for another way to explain it. “I gave Nathaniel some money and asked him to pick up some dresses. I’m not sure how they’ll fit, so I had Nathaniel purchase what things you’d need to take them in.”
“They’re simply perfect.” She smoothed the dress again, stroking the fabric, then turned to him. Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her face down as if she might lecture him. “We will repay you, Thomas. Once we get home—after this madness has ended, this ridiculous search for all of us—I promise to make it up to you.”
He leaned forward. “I don’t want anything from you, Eliza. I take full responsibility. And I won’t argue with you about it.”
She sighed and for several silent seconds looked at the wall in front of her. “No. ‘Tis all Father’s doing. We’ve been over this before.” She remained motionless, only blinking her eyes.
He looked down at his hands and massaged his palms as he worked out what to say.
Lord, how can I help her see that Robert did what he thought was best? How can I help her see the importance of our cause?
As he stared downward, his gaze slipped to the worn copy of Cicero resting on the small stool. It was the book he’d been reading while he kept vigil at her side those many days on end. A book Robert had given to him.
He picked it up. “Have you read this?”
She studied the tired, leather-bound copy of The Republic and The Laws.
A curious spark rested in her question-filled eyes. He wiggled the book, hoping she would take it.
“You’re reading Cicero?” She laughed and took the book in her slender fingers. “I didn’t know you’re a scholar.”
Thomas grinned and relaxed in his chair. “I’m not. But your father was.”
“Yes, he was.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her answer.
Thomas pinned his eyes on her. “I knew nothing about politics when I joined the Sons of Liberty. All I knew was that I didn’t like the oppressive nature of the British government.” He stopped for a moment, remembering the many happy times he and Robert had talked hour after hour. The man was like a father to him—a real and loving father. “About a year ago, he gave me that book.”
He nodded toward the worn article in her hands. Eliza’s mouth formed a small O and her eyes widened. Then the sadness returned and she shook her head with tiny movements, her delicate eyebrows dipping down. “Why would he tell you all these things? Why would he open his heart and his beliefs to you and never tell me anything about what he truly believed?”
Her eyes glistened and Thomas’s gut pricked. He knew Robert loved his daughters and wanted only the best for them, but how could he make her see it?
He leaned forward in his seat. “I believe that he must have taught you more than you think he did. He didn’t always feel this way. He came to the truth of things a little at a time, like we all do. Since he was known and loved by the British he had to keep up his appearances, even after he inwardly renounced all for which they
stood.”
Eliza tightened her full lips into a long thin line. “I still don’t know why he couldn’t tell me. I’m his daughter.”
Thomas expelled an exasperated breath and cupped his hand over his mouth. He hadn’t wanted to make her upset. “Why don’t you read this book while you stay in bed.” He emphasized the last bit with a touch of teasing hoping to get her to smile. “Your father treasured this book. You may understand more about him and about what he believed in—and why he did what he did—after you’ve read it. When you come to understand the truth of it, Eliza, the truth will make you free.”
Eliza jerked up at Thomas’s words. That was what Father had said.
Her heart beat like the pounding of an Indian drum and the hairs on her arms pointed straight up. She wanted to know more. Truly. She wanted to believe her father hadn’t kept his secret for lack of faith in her.
But Samuel had said a woman had no place in politics. And maybe that’s what her father had thought as well. Maybe that’s why he’d never told her, along with wanting to keep her safe.
She swallowed timorously at the question on her tongue. “I heard a woman has no place in politics.”
Thomas grinned. “Politics is for everyone.” He tilted his head. “Who told you that? Certainly not your father?”
“Oh, no. Samuel did.”
“Who’s Samuel?”
Eliza released a heavy sigh, raising and lowering her shoulders. “He’s the one who proposed to me. I asked him once about all of this and he told me it wasn’t my place. He’s a captain in the British Army and he feels very strongly about these things.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and tightened the white ribbon at the end. “He is a very determined man, so I didn’t argue with him on that point. But I knew I couldn’t accept him until I had more time to come to terms with all of this. And study it out, as Father told me to do.”
Thomas’s face went white. “What is his last name?”
Eliza raised her brows at his pointed question. The terrified look in his handsome face made her grip her braid. “Who? Samuel?”
He stilled and stared at her, his voice a hoarse whisper. “What was his last name?”
“Samuel’s just an old family friend. I’ve known him for years—”
“Tell me, Eliza.” Thomas rose slowly, with a darkness behind his gaze that turned his eyes into a terrible stormy blue. His fingers curled when he asked again. “What is Samuel’s last name?”
“Martin. His last name is Martin.”
Chapter Fourteen
Thomas didn’t stop, didn’t look back. He walked straight through the cold to Nathaniel’s home. If he didn’t talk to someone he would explode.
Darkness settled on the trees and houses around him, amplifying the heaviness he now carried. If he thought his load was oppressive before, it now crushed him.
The situation was a thousand times worse than he’d imagined. Samuel was not merely looking for him, he was looking for the woman he loved, the woman he hoped to marry. Samuel would no doubt kill him if he found where she was. He wouldn’t even have time to explain he’d done it to protect her—from him!
A violent revolt brewed in his stomach. He shoved his fingers through his hair and growled as he contemplated this disaster. Not to mention how the thought of that man and Eliza being married made his lungs burn. Thank goodness she hadn’t given him an answer yet. And he hoped when she did, the answer would be no.
He stomped across the soggy ground, splattering mud as he went. Samuel Martin. What a rat. Did she have any idea about him? Did she know what he was really like and what he had done? She couldn’t possibly know or she wouldn’t esteem the vile man as she did. The question burned in his skull. Should he tell her? Would she even believe him? He reached Nathaniel’s darkened house and settled on a conclusion. It was best not to say anything to Eliza. At least not now. Maybe never.
Thomas pounded on Nathaniel’s door harder than usual. When it didn’t open instantly, he pounded again.
Finally the door flew open. Nathaniel’s initial look of concern intensified when he saw who waited on his stoop. “Thomas, what’s wrong? I thought you were going to break the door down.” His banyan hung open revealing his rumpled nightshirt and a pair of breeches he’d obviously just pulled on.
Thomas didn’t wait to be asked in. He pushed past his friend and walked straight into the main room. Nathaniel closed the door and followed him with the candle.
“Please, come right in. And don’t worry about the mud on your boots, I’ll clean it up.”
Consumed by every terrible scenario, Thomas could only glare at his friend’s attempt at being jocular.
“Are you going to tell me what’s got you so riled? Or would you prefer to simply continue glaring at me while I try and guess your distress?” Nathaniel set the candle down on his oak desk and went to the large stone fireplace. “Did Eliza not care for the gifts?”
Thomas paced for another moment, clenching and relaxing his fists, breathing deeply through his nose. How could he form the words? They were too odious to speak.
After stoking the fire, Nathaniel leaned against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Out with it.”
Using an army’s worth of fortitude, Thomas forced his legs to stop moving and glared at the floor, speaking through gritted teeth. “It’s Samuel.”
“Samuel? What are you talking about? Who is Samuel—the Samuel?”
Thomas could tell his friend tried to make light of it, but that only reddened his anger. He hit his fist on the mantel. “Nathaniel this is no time to be trivial. Eliza just informed me that Samuel Martin—the very same man who blackmailed me—is the man who proposed to her.” He wiped his hand across his face and looked up at the ceiling, before letting his arms drop heavy at his sides. “She says she’s known him for years. You know what this means, don’t you?”
Nathaniel’s expression dropped. He exhaled deeply then closed and opened his eyes again while his voice remained low. “He’ll be frantically looking for her, as well as you. Did you tell her about him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t. Not right now. I need to sort this out first.”
Another rapping on the door shot through the silence of the room.
“Who could that be?” Thomas asked, irritated.
“I don’t know. But in case you haven’t heard, I am a doctor, so I do get people coming to my home at all hours of the day and night.”
The pounding continued and this time a muted voice behind the door ripped through the air.
“Doctor Smith, this is Captain Samuel Martin. I must speak with you on a very urgent matter. I order you to open this door immediately!”
Thomas’s blood evaporated in his veins. Impossible.
Nathaniel’s face turned pale and his jaw flopped open. “What?” he whispered.
The knocking pounded with the same rhythm of Thomas’s beating heart. Neither of them spoke. Nathaniel motioned wildly for Thomas to stand flush with the end of his large bookcase on the side facing away from the door. Thomas slid his large body in the almost too tiny space between the bookcase and the wall and held his breath. He hoped his shoulder wasn’t visible. The bookcase was deep, but possibly not deep enough.
The pounding escalated, and so did Samuel’s demands. Thomas could hear Nathaniel’s casual sounding footsteps as he walked across the room. As the light of the candle followed him toward the door, Thomas was shrouded in black.
The door creaked open. Thomas closed his eyes and didn’t stop praying, his hands pressed firmly at his sides. The thudding of his pulse rang with such force he feared it echoed clear as cannon fire.
“What took you so long?” From the loud jangle of swords and the sound of stomping boots that entered the house, it was apparent Samuel was not traveling alone and every parcel of air vanished from Thomas’s lungs.
“Forgive me, Captain. How may I be of help to you?” Nathaniel’s voice remain
ed even. The door latched shut.
“I am searching for two woman. Eliza Campbell and her younger sister Katherine. I have reason to believe they have been kidnapped and brought this way. A source tells me that a young woman was stabbed near Sandwich in the past several weeks and I’m afraid she might have been the victim. Being that you’re the nearest physician, I reasoned you might know something about it.” Samuel’s voice grew more intense the longer he spoke.
Thomas practiced breathing in and out as he waited for Nathaniel to answer. How in heaven’s name had Samuel learned all of that? He clenched his teeth. Hearing Eliza’s name come out of Samuel’s mouth made Thomas’s stomach roll.
“This is imperative, Doctor,” Samuel boomed. “I need to know now! I believe she might have been brought here. Did you treat her?”
Nathaniel stayed quiet for another moment, making Thomas’s extremities go numb. His throat seized and needles of panic pierced him from head to foot. Say no, please say no!
“Yes, I did.”
Thomas bit his cheek and stared at the black ceiling above him. Nathaniel, what have you done?
“When? Did she live? Is she still in town? I’m desperate to find her.” The consuming worry in Samuel’s voice gave testament to his feelings for Eliza. Thomas swallowed another lump of anger that lodged in his throat. Eliza was far too angelic to be tangled up with such a man.
The rustling of boots, the rattling of swords, and the hard breathing of the men grew louder. Thomas tried to inch closer to the wall but there wasn’t any way for him to fit any more snug than he already did. If Samuel came much closer . . .
“Go on, Doctor!”
“Yes, I treated her not long after it happened.”
Samuel muttered a curse. “And?”
“She did live, for a few hours. Undoubtedly you know how grave stomach wounds can be. It’s almost impossible to survive such trauma.”
So Fair a Lady (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 1) Page 14