by Betty Bolte
"I'll tell you later. We'll keep it between us."
Understanding dawned in Frank's eyes. In order to truly keep the treasure safe, they would not reveal to Davis or Captain Sullivan the new location. Only the two of them needed to know of its hiding place.
Benjamin paced to the hearth and turned when Davis rose from his chair and followed him across the room to the mantel. "Do not tell anyone we visited you or about this box, agreed?"
"Agreed, surely." Davis tapped the bowl of his pipe against the fireplace stones. "I've said as much to my wife before you arrived, if she wants to live well, that is."
Nodding, Benjamin gripped Davis's shoulder. "You've done the right thing, my good man. 'Tis wise to remove the temptation before your wife's safety is compromised."
Davis slowly refilled his pipe and lit it. Silence settled over the men, the only sound in the room the crackle and hiss of wood burning. Finally Davis peered through the pipe smoke at Benjamin.
"You lads should beware of your lady folk also discovering the box." Davis tightened his lips before allowing a grin to ease their firmness. "Women are curious creatures."
"Aye, they are. Your caution is noted. We must head back now that the winds are dying down." Frank stood and shook hands with Davis.
Benjamin strode to the table and lifted the box. His clothes had barely begun to dry, and now they braved the storm, heading for home again. "We'll need some way to shield this from the rain."
Davis rose and retrieved a small oilcloth sack from a shelf and handed it to Benjamin. "It arrived in this."
Slipping the tiny silver box into the sack, Benjamin's hand tingled again, only more intensely. Startled, he dropped the box the rest of the way in. Examining his hand revealed nothing, yet the tingle persisted.
"Something amiss?" Frank asked.
"No, all's well." Benjamin rubbed his hand against his pant leg.
"Good, because we must make ourselves presentable for dinner at Emily's this evening. After all, Miss Abernathy will be there."
"Aye, so let's go before the weather worsens. I've waited too long to see Miss Amy as it is." Benjamin slipped the little sack with its precious gem inside his coat pocket and followed Frank from the warmth of the mansion.
* * *
Benjamin closed the back door of the living quarters above Captain Sullivan's import shop on East Bay. He descended the exterior stairs, turned the corner and emerged onto the street. The earlier storm left its calling card in the form of clinging sand mixed with mud and puddles large enough to bathe a dog in. Tree limbs and leaves littered the ground near the ancient cypress on the corner. He skirted the worst of the water and slogged his way away from his dry temporary home toward Captain Sullivan's house, where Miss Emily would serve as hostess for the Allhallows dinner. Stars peppered the sky above, ushering the moon from the horizon. Turned out to be a nice night for walking to the party even if the road sucked at his overshoes.
He nodded greetings to the occasional passerby as he passed elegant homes lining the street. He strolled along Bay, glancing at the long wharfs jutting into the water to his right and the clutter of ships in the harbor beyond. Down the street, Captain Sullivan's imposing brick two-story home appeared, its front door open to permit guests to come and go. He took the steps two at a time. Once inside, an abundance of lamp and candlelight greeted him. He followed the sound of voices and laughter from the far end of the hallway. As he neared the arched doorway, a young black woman dressed in a gray servant's gown and white cap entered from the back door carrying a silver platter with matching domed lid. She struggled to close the door behind her.
"Let me." Benjamin quickened his pace.
"Thank you, sir." The woman stepped away and glanced at him. "Dinner is about to be served, Major Hanson."
"My timing is perfect then." Benjamin pushed the door shut and then turned to follow the woman into the dining room.
"Right this way." She led him into the room filled with candlelight and the chatter of twenty or so guests.
He paused at the doorway to absorb the scene. A long table stretched across the large room, its surface draped with a golden tablecloth and flanked by an assortment of hardback chairs on either side. The table held a variety of meats and foods, the fancy plates and utensils reflecting the candlelight from the chandelier hanging above. At the far end Captain Sullivan himself seemed in a jolly conversation with his daughter, Emily, to his right. Frank, dressed impeccably in his dark coat and snowy white cravat, occupied the seat beside Emily, with an empty chair to his right. Benjamin rather envied Frank his situation: living under this roof with his lady at her father's invitation. All because the British had commandeered the man's home for their activities. After the troops evacuated, Frank planned to restore the home and live there. Across from Emily, Miss Amy laughed as she listened to the captain's tale, with a dark-haired woman beside her. Perhaps the lady was the newest midwife in town, Samantha McAlester, based on Frank's earlier description of Emily's friend. Next sat Amy's parents, Richard and Lucille Abernathy. He didn't know most of the other guests.
Amy's beauty stopped him in his tracks. Her long dark tresses were pinned up in an elegant bunch of curls surrounding her glowing cheeks and luscious red lips. The rich green gown she wore set off her eyes, which sparkled with amusement. How had he stayed away from her all this time? If it weren't for the pressing needs of the American army and the importance of the intelligence he'd been able to provide, nothing would have prevented him from returning home. Everyone had to make some sacrifice in order to prevail both on the battle field and in the fledgling government. But once peace descended again, then he'd never leave her.
His last mission for General Greene had entailed slipping behind the British lines to the south of Charles Town, down to Chehaw Point, in early August. He'd learned of the British plan to send out more foraging patrols and alerted Greene, who decided to tighten the noose around the British and loyalists within the besieged town. This intelligence, gathered by Benjamin's risky spying tactics, had been readily believed because of earlier scavenging raids by the British to the north in February. The Americans, led by the Swamp Fox, Francis Marion, had thwarted as much of the foraging patrols as they could, but the Britons had managed to move a herd of cattle from Tydiman's Plantation some distance to the north back to Charles Town. Some of that beef may even have found its way to this banquet table, thanks to Frank's efforts on Miss Emily's behalf. Posing as a loyalist did have its perquisites.
Of course, Greene's army provided protection to the restored civil government with John Matthews now serving as South Carolina's governor. The legislature meeting in Jacksonborough on the North Edisto River had already enacted legislation to punish loyalists by banishing them and confiscating their property. At the end of the occupation, loyalists would no longer be tolerated and undercover patriots, like Frank and Benjamin, would be able to live honestly. That day could not arrive soon enough.
Frank spotted him hesitating in the arched doorway and rose, motioning to the empty chair. "Have a seat, my friend. You're just in time."
Benjamin slipped into the chair with a nod to Emily and Captain Sullivan. Frank tapped his knife against his flute of wine where it stood on the table, preparing to make an announcement. He'd hinted earlier he hoped to ask Emily to marry him soon. Was he planning to propose here and now? Frank always did like being the center of attention.
As the room fell silent, Frank set the knife back on the table, then took Emily's hand in his. "I wanted you all as witnesses when I ask this lovely, intelligent woman if she will consent to become my wife. Emily, darling, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"
Emily didn't answer right away, but looked at Amy, who dabbed her eyes, then at the brunette beside her, who smiled. Why did Emily seek approval to answer? Captain Sullivan raised his wine flute and held it aloft, waiting. The other guests followed suit. Anticipation buzzed in the air.
The smile that emerged onto Emily's
face told Benjamin her answer before she spoke. "Yes."
"You've made me so very happy, my dear." Frank took both her hands and helped her to her feet. "I love you so. I'll always be at your side to protect you."
He kissed her, a long, practically indecent affair that made Benjamin grin.
"Now you have to marry him." Benjamin chuckled. "Three cheers to the newly engaged couple."
"Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!" echoed around the room as everyone joined in the celebration.
Amy suddenly rose from her chair and pushed it backward with a scrape. Muttering "excuse me," she fled the room.
Where was she going? Perhaps she didn't feel well and he could be of some assistance. "Excuse me."
Benjamin followed Amy from the crowded room, anxious for her welfare as much as to be with her. And he knew where she most likely had gone. He grinned and hurried to the stairs.
* * *
The moon hung above the Charles Town harbor as Amy stood alone at the piazza rail, hands clenched to control their trembling. The storm had washed away the dust and the city lay glimmering beneath the moonlight. St. Michael's steeple, now strangely silent as a result of the British confiscating the beloved bells and shipping them to London as booty, stood out against the night sky. The other dinner guests were inside the three-story house, light from the windows casting shadows across the porch floor boards. Benjamin was back. Her heart raced as though she'd run from the Allhallows Eve festivities, which a lady never would do. She had merely strode from the room as quickly as possible when the opportunity arose.
Like a ghost drifting into the moonlight, Ben had suddenly appeared in the dining room. His presence set her heart to beating so frantically her senses spun. No fanfare, just strolled into her cousin's dinner party as though he'd never walked away three years earlier, without even a word of good-bye, from the burgeoning relationship Amy thought she shared with him.
A bat swept behind her, the sound of its wings beating a whisper in her hair as it skimmed past. A gasp escaped despite her determination to be silent and invisible. She had fled to the relative privacy of the upper piazza to rein in her emotions. She gripped the lacy handkerchief tucked in the bodice of her gown, a lifeline to her composure. Benjamin served in the continental army, though she only knew that from Frank's comments. What did Benjamin's sudden return mean? Surely he did not expect to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and continue as though nothing had changed between them. Grasping the bit of lace tighter, her heart ached at the thought of him leaving again, hurting her again. She could not allow that to occur. When he'd left, her innocent dreams shattered along with her heart. She released a breath slowly, her sigh mingling with night air.
"Amy?"
She froze at the deep voice calling her. Benjamin's voice saying her name held the power to melt her will. Had he heard her sigh, guessed at her attempt to shield her heart? Her pulse raced wildly at the thought of his discovering her, alone, here where they'd last said good night so many years before. He had touched his lips to hers, a sweet kiss chock-full of promises, her hopes for a future with him filling her entire being. She closed her eyes, the rich tenor of his voice evoking haunting memories. Memories she'd tried to forget once she'd vowed a mere month ago, along with Emily and their friend Samantha, to remain single in lieu of marrying. Emily had, not surprisingly, changed her mind about keeping her vow with Frank's declaration of love, but Amy held firm in her conviction to protect herself against the pain left behind after love deserted her. A flurry of reasons for her choice flitted through her mind as the sound of his leather boots on the porch boards drew nearer. Why must he follow her out here where she had fled to escape his notice?
"Miss Amy?"
She wouldn't turn around; perhaps he'd miss her standing in the shadows of the vines clinging to the trellis. The sea's scent, normally calming, choked her when she drew a long breath, trying to soothe her bruised yet racing heart. The lace at her throat quivered with each throb of her pulse. She thought she'd banished the agony to distant memory, yet his presence rekindled all the old hurt and desire. Her palms grew damp as she held still, calming her breathing to avoid making a sound. She willed him to pass by, leave her in peace. Gripping the rail tighter, she gazed at the view of the British ships tugging at their anchors in the harbor, the image blurring as her senses attuned to him looking for her.
"Miss Amy." His footsteps approached, confident beats across the creaking wooden floor. "I found you."
There was nothing for it but to acknowledge his presence. Her mother would filet her like a fresh-caught fish if she knew Amy had been discourteous. But so many times the devilish little imp living inside her would act out, and she could not be taught to behave as a young lady should. No, her inner tomboy racing around, mischievous and curious, landed her in more trouble than anything else.
Pivoting, she looked up into Benjamin's deep blue eyes, illuminated by the bright moonlight, and saw the hint of question mixed with his barely suppressed laughter. She sucked in a breath at the impact of seeing him so close, and let it out slowly. "Hello, Major Benjamin."
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Amy." Taking her hand, he held it for the space of three heartbeats before lightly kissing it. "Are you well? Or am I intruding?"
Tiny tremors reverberated up her arm before she slipped her hand free from his grasp. Fiddlesticks. He knew well he intruded, but he didn't care, of that she could be sure. Anger seeped into her veins, refreshing her memory of the pain that hit her when she discovered he'd left. The spreading warmth of her anger bolstered her resolve. Her heart had best slow down and behave itself.
Clasping her hands together to quell the slight tremble before his keen regard noted it, she faced him. Although he towered above her, his shoulders obscuring the stars behind him, the cloth of his coat hinting at the muscles beneath, he would not intimidate her. She would not allow emotion to play a role in her future. Men. Always pushing in and insinuating themselves into other people's business, whether wanted there or not. And usually with some ulterior motive in mind they hid quite well.
Her sister Evelyn's bruised eye, a relic from a purported trip down the root-cellar steps, flashed in her mind. It was bad enough marriage meant a woman's loss of individual identity as well as property, but then enduring beatings by an abusive husband went beyond the pale. Not by her, at any rate. Mayhap now Evelyn advanced toward her time to deliver Walter's child, he'd restrict his abuse to verbal admonitions so no more bruises marred her sister's beautiful face.
Amy straightened her spine, claiming every bit of her five feet three inches. Not all men showed their true nature. She searched Benjamin's expression, looking for telltale clues of deceit or possessiveness, but his quirked eyebrow and half smile revealed only interest and confidence. "Welcome back. Have you been in town long?"
"No. A few days." Half bowing, he grinned, causing the cleft of his chin to deepen. His queue calmed luxurious waves of ebony, silky strands of hair she remembered well.
"I thought I'd seen you at church." She inwardly cringed at the half-truth. Oh, she'd more than seen him. His dark-chocolate voice had greeted the traitorous loyalist rector on his way into the sanctuary. Then she'd sensed him drawing nearer as she faced forward in the pinewood pew. Felt the weight of his gaze last Sunday morning as he took his seat in front of her and chatted with Frank. Emily's decision to marry despite her earlier vow seemed inevitable from Amy's perspective. Indeed, Amy suspected Emily had made the vow as a way to trick herself into believing she didn't want to marry anyone, especially Frank, when in fact nothing was further from the truth. The two went together like the sun and sky.
"Yes, I saw you, but I had the impression you were busy." Benjamin smiled, his teeth vying with the moon in lighting up the cool fall sky. "How have you fared during my absence?"
"Fine, thank you." What more could she say? She, the renowned storyteller, couldn't describe the depth of her suffering when he'd first left, and how it irked when she'd hoped
for a simple note from him, to know he lived. Frank informed her that Benjamin worked behind enemy lines, and her imagination had spun visions of the inherent dangers of spying. Slipping in and out of town, prisons, and God only knew what else, like a wraith. Never knowing whom he could trust with his life. At one time she had thought she could love him, before her sister's disagreeable experiences brought home to her the reality of married life. Add to that the dangers of childbirth for a man one could not love? No, she would take her chances as an unmarried woman. "And you?"
His smile widened. "I've been fine as well. Thank you for asking."
Damnation. Now he obviously thought she cared about him. Honestly, he sure held himself above all others. Well, she'd see about that. "Do not mention it. It's nothing. Why have you left the party?"
"I thought perhaps you were unwell. Since that is not the case, then perchance you'll allow me to remain. I've missed seeing you. It's been too long since we had chance to speak together." He reached out calmly and wrapped a dark curl around his finger as he studied her expression. "I wager that you'll be needed soon to tell your little ghost stories, but spare me a moment. Please?" He repeated the twining of the dark coppery strands around his index finger.
How dare he not only belittle her stories but also presume to touch her? Amy stepped back, pulling her hair from his grasp. Spiders of anger crawled through her at the too-familiar touch, a touch so charged with desire it reminded her of how she once longed for him. A touch that ignited a passion she'd never known prior. Then he had vanished. He apparently expected to pick up where he'd left off. She had learned to ignore the familiar warmth smoldering within when he crossed her mind, the heat of which now threatened her composure. She no longer needed a man to complete her. Or to take away her possessions and leave her subjugated to his will and dependent on his purse.
"By your leave, I should go inside. Excuse me." She lifted her chin, darting a last glance at him as she strode past, leaving both the man and the prickly encounter behind.